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bakuvantea · 3 years ago

Note

HEY BESTIE I HOPE YOUR HAVING AN AMAZING DAY

CAN I GET SOME GENERAL HEADCANONS WITH SUNG JIN-WOO WITH A FEMALE S/O

FEEL FREE TO IGNORE BUT REMEMBER TO TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF

>:)

general relationship headcanons of sung jin-woo with his beloved s/o

- warnings: none! just a tad bit of nsfw implications

- audience: I made this gender neutral, i do hope that’s okay!!

- a/n: hello >:) anonnn (may i call u that? lmao-) here’s your request love!! thank you for your kind words <33 stay heathy, stay hydrated, and always rest up okay? hope you have an amazing day ahead too!!

also idk who jacob is-

-•-

: pre-awakened jin-woo (before entering the carthenon temple)

> he was always cautious, he didn't want [you] to hear the whispers going around about how you could've chosen someone better, about how you could've loved someone that was not him. thus, he was very shy and timid, always on edge when he feels the piercing stares from his batchmates -most especially when you try to initiate physical contact with him in your school or in public, you'd see him uncomfortable and so you'd immediately stop (because you respect him, ily). behind closed doors though he would always go above and beyond in pleasing you and making you feel loved, although he always doubts himself so you always make sure to give him praises and assure him that he is the one you love (not that jerk jacob from the class next door).

> he always wears spare hair ties or hair pins around his wrists in case you forget or lose yours. in fact when its weekends -and when he's not out infiltrating dungeons and positively offering his life on a silver platter- he always tries to study new hairdos and hairstyles so he can have more variations and choices when he ties or pins your hair for you. he'd always kiss the top of your head after and you'd feel his smile as he nuzzles your hair, smelling your shampoo. since his hair is also long, you'd also return the favor and tie his hair for him. his favorite would have to be the classic apple look with a pointy lock of hair erect in the middle -he really looks like a shih tzu, adorable-

> he.blushes.so.easily !!! he is very weak to praises and your lil kisses that pepper his face. you can see him glow and you even see his smile evidently becoming wider despite him shying away from you, looking downwards to avoid your loving gaze.

> he may be sht but he is also very playful towards you, teasing you and throwing pillows at you when you’re in his room, what a baby.

> often during dates he'd always need to leave early because he really needs to earn money and g to the dungeons. although you try to offer him some of your savings or your help during the dungeon raids, he'd always reject your offer, thinking of how it may burden you or the dungeon raids may possibly hurt you. you don't listen to him though, you give some of your savings to his sister when you cross paths in your school, and you'd always register after him in raids or call up someone you know to have you join in.

"(name) why are you here?!"

"angel face, i can handle myself just fine. it's my choice to help you and whether you like it or not, i've also been called for this raid. come love, we're going in."

> you'd always take his blue hoodie and wear it. he gets so shy when you smell it.

he gets frantic when you take his hoodie and start sniffing it, exclaiming; "stop! i smell weird."

you raise an eyebrow at him, "woo, you smell fine. i like it."

he tries to stutter a remark but was silenced by your smile.

> you always try to visit his mother with him and his sister, jinah. you always talk to their mother out loud and you'd see jinah smile gently at you and jin-woo trying to stop sniffles from escaping his lips by biting them and covering his face with his hoodie.

jinah: u simp

jin-woo: shut it

> he loved cuddles! but he really likes kissing your cheeks. he loves how soft they are and he loves feeling your cheeks move when you smile or laugh at his cute antics.

> he loves you so so dear

: post-awakened jin-woo (after the events of the carthenon temple)

> oh, dear it's the monarch-

> you weren't with him when he raided the "d-rank" dungeon that then turned out to be,, well pretty much a bloodbath, so you were very worried when you heard word of the news. you and jinah basically ran to the hospital and when you caught sight of him you almost fell down from relief and pure shock in seeing the state he's in. well, not long after though suddenly he's all buff and you were really trying to make sense of what's happening.

you: hello there good sir, what in the name of fck are you doing in my boyfriend’s room all sweaty and half-naked😀

jin-woo: (name) it’s me

you: haha yes, sir ‘it’s me’ that’s a pretty weird name but i don't judge, anyways my baby boy is not here uhm haha please get out of my boyfriend’s room

jin-woo: (name) it’s really me!

you: no sir, my woo radiates baby energy, you on the other hand radiates big dilf energy, haha i do not like what i am sensing so please for the life of me leave-

(jinah had to convince you that it is indeed jin-woo, you had her stop you from trying to hold his tiddies)

> you were very happy in seeing how confident he’s become, and you were even more proud with how he still says so humble despite his new accomplishments and title.

> it was obvious that he has become distant with others and have set a boundary between him and other hunters, you accept that part of him though since you know just how much he has gone through. he may act aloof towards others but he’s still very playful and comfortable with you.

> you have also noticed another thing though, he has become a bit possessive or much protective over you and jinah. he’d always have you bring a shadow with you to guard you when he can’t be with you. also, when someone stares at you for far too long, he’d step in and go, “hey there pal” and oh gosh was that enough to get the guy running (pretty damn hot)

> you still visit his mom with him, he doesn’t cry now though.

> when he trains, you’d insist on lying down below him when he does push-ups. you’d kiss him every time he swoops down and you’d hear him laugh which then makes you giggle as you hold his cheeks between your hands

> jinah is sick of the two you, always screaming about how on earth did her brother get an s/o before her, the audacity!

> his shadows adore you, of they’d always try to impress you or get head pats when you tell jin-woo to summon them for you. you live them to bits and always thanks them for a job well done in helping jin-woo with his raids. on the first time you accompanied him for a raid -you had to bribe him with more cuddles- and you were shocked with how his sweet adorable shadows turned a full 180, becoming ruthless towards the enemies. quite a show you’d say. after though, they’re back to flocking over you, even dismissing jin-woo lmao

jin-woo, watching you give each shadows head pats: i hate it here

you: get in line then

> it may be due to his newly acquired talents and his current mental and physical prowess but he has become more perceptive towards you. he can always read you and know just what your mood is and he always tries to make you feel better by giving his whole attention to you.

> of but of course, since dear jin-woo has become quite the looker, you also notice how girls flock over to him. and especially miss hae-in (she’s very sweet yes, but hey that’s your man so like—). the moment you discovered that she left her guild to join jin-woo’s, and then confessed (well basically she did) to your man, well you were upset but really who could blame her? instead of taking your frustrations out on her and your boyfriend, you decided to just talk it out with jin-woo and ask him about how it went. the two of you cleared it out and you got kisses and maybe even more after that ;))

> you and jin-ho are menaces to society when you are together, he hates how endearing and annoying you two can be. i mean, does he really hate it? nope, he absolutely loves seeing you two interact, although his head always throbs when you two start screaming to britney, gaga, and doja.

> a tease, he has become the master of being a tease, you hate it and love it at the same time. he’d trail kisses down your neck to your thighs and leave some marks then he’d suddenly walk away while asking you what take-out you want. rude, that’s what he is. ofc he always finished what he starts tho oop-

> he always randomly bites you now, you don’t know why but it’s really cute when he starts nibbling so you let him be.

> so extra when he tells you that he loves you. he professes it in such weird but adorable ways. one time he had printed out ‘i love you so much’ on a big-ass tarpaulin and had his shadows hold it for him while he’s kneeling down smoldering at you. you hate him so much (you don’t-). or that one time he bought a bouquet basket and had a ring tied to one of the flowers, you had to take the bouquet apart since the damn ring fell to the very bottom.

> sometimes when he gets back to the agency after his dungeon raids you and jin-ho would see him all grumpy and you immediately know that either he wasn’t able to make the enemy his soldier or his coat got ruined.

jin-woo: *sad noises*

jin-ho: that’s okay, you can kill and slaughter the others and take their souls next time

you: jin-ho couldn’t you have worded that better-

over-all, he’s the bestest boyfriend, such a sweet and handsome pretty boy much strong and reliable we love him<333

-•-

- a/n: i can add more to this if you’d like!! just hit me up again lmao it’s too long now so-

#sung jin woo x reader #sung jin woo #solo leveling #solo leveling x reader #manhwa #jin woo #jinwoo #sung jinwoo #winamikobabbles #sung jinwoo x reader

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sparetimeimagines · 4 years ago

Text

They Surprise You Flowers | Haikyu!! Scenarios

Tags; Fluff, Soft Boys, Flowers

We need some fluff, I write a lot of angst and smut 😅🤷🏽‍♀️

Masterlist

Ushijima Wakatoshi

The door to the front of the office chimes, however you’re too busy to notice the commotion up front. Patients have flooded the office, with each and every room filled. Whispers around the clinic say “tall man with flowers” and “so handsome, I’m not surprised he’s taken”

But who’s the lucky girl he’s waiting on?

Ushijima waits by a window, holding a bouquet of wildflowers staring outside into his own oblivion.

“Did you hear about the guy up front?” Your friend stops by dropping a clipboard into the wall as you shake your head.

“A guy?” You raise a brow. “Nah I’ve been in the room with the crazy hypochondriac.”

“Yeah, he has flowers. Waiting on someone.”

You had to see who it was.

Having your coworker cover the rooms, you peak around the corner at the front, revealing a very familiar face.

“Toshi.” You smile walking past the front desk with the receptionist eyeing you with envy.

The tall, broad shouldered athlete turns away from the window. His smoldering, intimidating gaze softens when he sees you, scrubs scraping as you meet him. He immediately hands you the flowers, embracing your body in his, immediately making you feel small in the best way possible.

Eyes pierce your back as the handsome man watches you lovingly.

“I have missed you. We just got back.”

Toshi’s team was traveling with volleyball and those long days couldn’t have ended sooner. “You’re so beautiful.” He hugs you once more, kissing the top of your hair. “You smell good.”

“Thank you, Toshi.” A blush creeps along your cheeks.

The intimidating man hovers over you.

“I wanted to see you before I went home.” You notice the tired look in his eyes mixed along the love he holds for you. “I know you’re busy, however I’ll see you later.” The ends of his lips curl upward, gravitating closer to yours. “Does that sound fair?” He presses his lips on to yours, those you’ve been missing for so long.

“Fair enough.”

As he leaves, you return back to your desk with the bouquet of flowers and bragging rights for life.

“How did you bag someone like that?” Your coworker gasps and you shrug.

“He chose me.”

Tsukishima Kei

Your kids had Valentine’s boxes each and everyone decorated for your party. The girls wore their pretty pink and red dresses while the boys thought it was gross, but still had the coolest boxes for their valentines.

Heartshaped cookies and sweets in individually wrapped baggies spread on each desk, the room was ready for celebration. You observe the children running in glee around the classroom from behind your desk. You decided to wear a soft pink dress in leu of the holiday.

There’s a knock at the door, but nothing unexpected, your class was beginning to get a little rowdy, so maybe this was your warning.

You stand from your desk about to tend the door when it opens on its own.

In walks a bouquet of red roses with a card in the flowers. Large hands holding them catch your attention, leading to the blond who’s blushing baldy to match the bouquet.

“Kei.” A large smile spreads your lips generously. “What are you doing here?”

“What? Am I not allowed to see you? Are you gonna kick me out?” He teases handing you the flowers.

“Aww Kei, they’re so pretty! You shouldn’t have.” You cover your both and he attempts to pull them back.

“Find them. Give them back.”

“No! Stop Kei.” You stick your tongue out smelling the flowers.

“That’s what I thought.” He smirks looking at the kids. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Baby.”

“Happy Valentine’s. Does this mean I’m bringing supper?”

He smirks down on to you, a smug nod confirming your plans.

“Ms. Ln, is this your boyfriend?” One of the girls from your class asks and immediately Tsuki blushes.

“Yes mam it is.”

“Will you two get married and have a big fairy tale wedding?” Another chimes in and now you’re caught tongue tide.

“That’s right. She’s going to look very pretty and wear a big princess dress.” Kei reply catches you off guard, He loving your surprised reaction. The girl squeals and runs along to her friends as you turn to the blond.

“Kei, don’t tease my kids like that.”

“What?” He chuckles. “I wasn’t teasing, Babe.”

“What? So you’re saying you want to see me in a wedding dress?” You ask your boyfriend who throws his hands into his pockets looking off to the door.

“Possibly.”

“Mmhmm, sure Kei.” You shake your head and He kisses your cheek.

“Don’t forget dinner.” He winks walking out the door leaving you stunned.

Kageyama Tobio

You were used to the schedule by now. Wake up, go to your first job, a regular boring 8-5 job where you did paperwork and typed on a computer until clocking out. Then from 6-10 you served tables at the local cafe down from where you lived. With Kageyama being gone for months at a time playing volleyball, you had to stay busy. You needed to stay busy. You couldn’t bare the thought of missing him more than you had to.

Some girls were used to it, letting their significant other be gone for long periods of time. But not you.

Staying busy had your mind busy and that’s what you needed.

Plates balanced on your arms as you brought them to your table, you checked the drinks of another before going back into the kitchen for refills as another order comes up. The night had been so busy you hadn’t had to check your phone nonetheless catch your breath.

“Yn there’s people at the door.” Your manager calls you and immediately you book it to the front, seeing a man holding a bouquet of flowers looking out the door.

“Hey, how many will it be today?” Your basic routine came out of your mouth like usual and you begin to notice the man turning around looks oddly familiar.

“Err... just one, I’m looking for my girlfriend.” His naturally angry looking face softens as he sees you.

Forgetting about the menus, you crash into his body embracing him with the tightest of hugs.

“Oh my gosh! I- I’ve missed you so much.” You can’t help but sob into his chest, even if he is taken back by you.

Tobio stands there stiff as his hand gradually begins strumming along your back.

“When did you get back?” You release him as he hands you the bouquet of sunflowers. “Aww Tobio, thank you.”

He watches your face light up a tiny smirk at the ends growing.

“An hour ago. I had to shower.”

You rise to your tippy toes and kiss his lips.

“I wouldn’t of minded.”

“I would.”

He blushes his right hand coming up behind his neck.

You admire his appearance feeling your heart race.

“I had to see my beautiful girl.” He mumbles. “I missed you.”

You were used to his quiet nature, but today it hit you a little different, closer to when you first started to admire him. To you, he was perfect.

“So will it be one?” You grab a menu and he nods.

“Only if I can have that pretty girl.” He points past you and you smack him with a menu. “Fine fine... you will do.”

Akaashi Keiji

The sound of buzzing and groans echoed throughout the building as clients kept you busy. The shop has been extra busy lately. A special ran for the month with 15% off tattoos as long as they were from the artist’s books. You advertised around town and social media, bringing in a lot of business.

Your portfolio laid open across the table in your shop, and for a moment it finally felt like you were vacant.

The door chimes in the front as you were sanitizing your station.

“I’ll be up in a minute. Check out our portfolios.” You call, wiping down the bed from your last client.

Your parter left to grab lunch for the two of you leaving you alone in the shop.

Coming back up, you notice a bouquet of delicate peony’s in a vase on your counter and a dark headed man looking through your portfolio.

“I’m sorry sir, you have to be eighteen or have your parent’s permission.” You tease, your hands grabbing the portfolio.

“I’m sure we can strike a deal.”

Akaashi closes the book and leans in to kiss you. His hands slide around your waist as he embraces you.

“What’s this for?” You hum smelling a flower. He smiles shrugging, peppering your exposed skin in kisses.

“I just missed you. Is that so hard to believe?”

“No...” you smile turning back to him. “They’re beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you are.” He winks.

“Keiji... don’t tease.” You smack his chest causing him to chuckle.

“I’m not.”

You two relocate to the couch, you kicking your feet up in his lap.

“How much longer to have here?” He asks even though you know he knows the answer.

“A few hours.”

“Damn.” He frowns opening your portfolio to a certain page in particular. “I like this one.”

“That one right here?” He points to a grey scaled tattoo.

“Oh yeah? Maybe you should let me tattoo you.”

“Tattoo me?”

“Yeah! Just your knuckle. Look we can get matching ones. Please.”

“Flowers? In exchange for a tattoo? Sounds like it’s my lucky day.” He smirks cupping your face.

“Oh my gosh, really? You’ll let me?”

“Pretty girl, I’ll let you do anything to me.”

“Hey now, don’t push your luck, Keiji. Nothing’s for free.”

“Well.” He starts. “I’ll pay you back later, little girl.” He kisses your lips once more and you lead him into the back.

“I believe something can be arranged.”

#haikyu!! fluff #haikyuu fluff #akaashi keiji fluff #tsukishima Kei fluff #Kageyama fluff #ushijima fluff #haikyuu scenarios

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starker-eternity · 4 years ago

Text

Taken

A little fic Drabble surrounding an idea that won’t get out of my head...

Warnings: Starker, societally accepted kidnapping, ABO

*****

Pepper Potts knocked on the ornate mahogany doors that protected her boss’ private office, waiting for permission to enter before pushing open said door. As she strode to the desk where her boss sat, she noticed his attention was focused intensely on the holographic and touch screen surface of his desk. Several windows were open and he was switching amongst them with sharp waves of his hand.

Pepper came to a stop right before his desk and waited for Tony Stark, genius and billionaire philanthropist, to acknowledge her presence. As she waited, she took note that the Alpha was lingering on an image of a young man with a mop of chestnut curls. She couldn’t clearly see the picture from her angle and she knew better than to let her attention linger. If it was a matter that concerned her, she’d know it soon enough.

“Ah, Ms. Potts, right on time.”

Pepper nodded her head once, a professional smile on her face. “Of course, Mr. Stark. You needed to see me? What can I do for you today?”

Tony traced one finger down the digitally imaged cheek of the young man’s face before his gaze snapped up to look at his Beta assistant. Piercing dark eyes held her gaze as a smirk spread across his face. “We need to plan a party. A celebration, in fact!”

Pepper raised one eyebrow even as she opened her tablet to start taking notes. “What kind of party, sir? Small or large guest list? Time frame?” She was not prepared for his answers.

“Large party I think. Invite the elite of society. And it needs to be as soon as possible... this weekend.”

Pepper was startled and it showed on her face. “This weekend? It’s Thursday, Mr. Stark. That’s not a lot of notice. Venues alone will take time to be vetted and booked -.”

Tony cut Pepper off with an impatient slash of his hand through the air. “I don’t have the luxury of time, Ms. Potts. He’s legal now and I need to act before someone else does. The party is only a courtesy to let society know I’ve made my claim.”

Pepper’s eyes narrowed as she asked, “Exactly what kind of party is this, Mr. Stark?”

Tony’s face broke out in a smug smirk. “Why Ms. Potts, it’s a wedding party. I’m getting married, now that my chosen Omega has come of age.”

****

Peter finished setting his text books neatly on the provided shelf above the desk and took a step back. As he looked around the single dorm room, he gave a small pleased sigh. A typical dorm room for an Omega, it was more like a small studio apartment as it had its own bathroom and small kitchen space. All meant to give unclaimed Omegas a safe haven for their quarterly heats, away from their Alpha and Beta classmates. Claimed Omegas either lived with their mates and commuted to and from campus, or if both were students then they lived in the provided campus housing suites.

Peter flopped down on his bed, attention turned to the television that was blaring some news story. The commentator was one of those reporters with a bubbling personality, enthusiastically reporting on some societal event.

“And I’m here live, at Stark Towers, where the party of the decade is happening! As you can see, everyone who is anyone is here to celebrate one of the world’s wealthiest Alphas bidding a fond farewell to his bachelorhood!”

The bubbling reporter turned to observe the crowd before her eyes widened in surprise. “And here he is! The Alpha of the hour himself! Tony Stark, how does it feel to be celebrating your pending nuptials?”

The man in question turned to the reporter, his eyes covered in a pair of red tinted shades, a smoldering grin on his lips. As he removed his shades, he answered, “It’s great to see so many people celebrating with me. Really, it is!”

The reporter gave him another blinding smile even as she shot another question at him. “And the question on everyone’s mind - who is the lucky bride or groom? Are they even aware of their impending wedding?”

Tony smirk grew wider as something dark flashed through his eyes. “Well to answer that question, I’d have to say no. In one of the only few times in my life, I’ll be following in my father’s footsteps and kidnapping my groom. So I’m afraid you’ll have to wait with everyone else for an identity reveal, my dear.”

As the reporter tried to weasel more details out of the billionaire Alpha, Peter angrily turned off the television. Grabbing his pillow, he hugged it closely to himself, sulking at life. Tony Stark was a major icon of the world and one of Peter’s secret role models. Peter never would have believed he supported what he had just revealed. Personally, he was disgusted at what Tony Stark had just casually admitted.

Spouse kidnapping.

A disgusting, archaic tradition where the dominant partner, usually an Alpha, kidnapped their spouse to be. First, the dominant partner had to announce to the public their intentions to kidnap their bride or groom. After the public announcement, he or she had 48 hours to actually kidnap their chosen. Once taken, the kidnapper had one week to secure the union, usually by successfully mating with the victim.

There weren’t very many unsuccessful kidnappings throughout history, most victims giving in to society’s view of normal behavior. Sometimes there was outrage, but usually quieted down by the kidnapper later through gifts. In these modern times, most of the victims knew their abductor beforehand, so it wasn’t really a surprise.

Peter objected to the practice in theory. No one he knew personally had been the subject of an unwilling spousal kidnapping. His Uncle Ben had courted his Aunt May and had proposed to her. He then had a mock kidnapping to satisfy societal norms. Peter wasn’t sure how his parents’ union was, but he had been told it was mutual.

If Peter’s future spouse wanted to have a mock kidnapping, he supposed he’d go along with it. However, if he was kidnapped by a complete stranger? Peter shuddered to even think of it. Maybe Tony Stark’s groom to be knew about all of this and the couple was just portraying the societal expectation that being a celebrity entailed.

A notification coming through his phone distracted him from his stormy thoughts. Unlocking the device, he read a text from his best friend Ned, asking if he wanted to grab some dinner. Sending a confirmation back, Peter resolutely shifted all thoughts about Tony Stark and his situation out of his mind.

After all, what did any of it have to do with him?

*****

Tony looked at his extraction team with a shrewd eye. Every single member had been hand picked for this operation. He wasn’t leaving anything to chance.

He turned to his best friend, James Rhodes. “Honey bear, everything’s set up at the Compound for my week of isolation with my groom?”

He received a nod of affirmation so Tony turned his attention to Steve Rogers. “All right, Captain. You have the details - this needs to go smoothly. I don’t want a single bruise on my mate.”

The blond man rolled his eyes even as he said, “We know, Tony. We’ve only gone over this a million times.”

“Then once more for luck,” came the sharp demand.

“Fine. Clint will be on high, keeping an eye on the target and anyone in the surrounding area, notifying the group when the target is alone. Natasha will be tailing the target from behind. Thor and I will be lying in wait to ambush the target. And Happy will be driving the car, ready to transport the target to the Compound. So the target won’t be spooked, Tony will be waiting in the car. He might have seen the earlier declaration and seeing Tony may cause him to bolt.”

“And Sam will be driving the other car that’ll take us all back to the Tower, where we will wait for the news your groom has accepted your suit,” finished Rhodey.

Sam shook his head as he spoke up, “Man, I don’t know about all of this. Wouldn’t it be easier just to talk to the boy?”

Tony glared at man even as he gritted out, “No, I can’t take the risk. His Aunt prevented me from interacting with him when he was underage.”

“Well, you are much older than he is, Tony.”

The Alpha ignored the comment from the only female in the room. “And now that he is of age, I can’t take the risk someone else might snap him up. I knew he was meant to be mine the first time I saw him years ago. I will not be denied my mate any longer!”

��Okay, okay Tony. Calm down, man! It’s not us you have to convince anyway.”

“That part I’m not worried about,” joked the billionaire.

Natasha rolled her eyes and then looked to the group. “All right, everyone try to keep a low profile. The paparazzi are literally foaming at the mouth because it’s been 24 hours since Tony’s declaration and they haven’t seen movement. They know his time limit like we do. Tony, is your body double ready to occupy the media?”

“Yup, he’s all ready out there leading them in the opposite direction of where we’re going.”

“Good. Then let’s go.”

*****

They came out of nowhere.

Peter had been walking back to his campus dorm from the dining hall, after parting ways with Ned and MJ. The Omega dorms were on the opposite side of campus from the other student dorms and he’d waved off Ned’s offer to walk him to his dorm. In hindsight, he should have taken Ned up on the offer, but at the time he was thinking that there was no need for Ned to have to walk the campus and back.

As he walked along, he noticed that the campus was pretty empty. He didn’t think too much on it though as school wasn’t officially starting for another week or so, and the students were sure to be flooding in over the week. As he was crossing through a parking lot of one of the class buildings, a strong voice called out to him.

“Excuse me, son, but do you happen to have the time?”

Peter stopped to look toward the voice and saw a rather intimidating blond Alpha standing there. Although his hands were nonchalantly tucked into his jeans pockets, he still radiated strength and authority.

Nervously shuffling his feet, some inner sense telling him to keep his distance, Peter glanced at his phone and answered, “Um, it’s almost 8pm.”

The blond man gave him an earnest grin and said, “Thanks son. Thor?”

Just then Peter felt two strong arms clamp around his upper body, keeping his arms pinned to the side. As he gasped and looked over his shoulder, he saw his assailant was another blond man. Peter tried to struggle against the hold, but the other man rushed in and grabbed his legs, lifting his body completely off the ground.

Peter let loose with a yell, even as he futilely attempted to wiggle out of their hold. He barely heard the screeching of tires as a car pulled up beside the three, the door being flung open. Hands grabbed for him as the other two men pushed him into the waiting vehicle.

Peter was shoved into the backseat of a luxury car, the door slamming shut as soon as his feet were clear. He was thrown off balance against the seat as the car peeled away with a screech of tires. As soon as he managed to right himself, he tried to open the door to possibly escape the moving vehicle, but the door wouldn’t open.

Peter pounded on the window, yelling, “Let me out!”

That’s when he felt the prick in his neck.

Whipping around, one of his hands going to his neck automatically, he was just in time to see a man capping a syringe. He gaped at the man, even as his blurring vision recognized him.

“Tony Stark?!”

The man in question gave him a large smile and reached a hand out to card some of Peter’s curls away from his sweaty forehead. He ignored Peter’s flinch backwards as the young man tried to plaster himself against the car door, out of Tony’s reach.

“That’s right, sweetheart. You can call me Tony.”

Peter’s vision swam and the inside of the car began to spin. He realized he was losing consciousness as black spots appeared in his vision and he felt his eyes close. As Peter’s body fell forward, he was caught by a strong pair of arms and held in a loose embrace.

Peter felt his body being moved into a more comfortable position, hands carding through his hair. As he fell asleep, the last thing he heard was, “Sweet dreams, love. When you wake up, we’ll have much to talk about.”

*****

Maybe a part two later.

#starker fanfic #starker #au #fic drabble #abo

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wicked-game-black-butler · 4 years ago

Note

Fic questions, 2 for wicked game

Question from this post

What’s your favorite part of this fic?

Oh my! I don’t think you realize how difficult of a question this is, lol. I have so many favorite parts, so if you’ll allow me, there are a few that I’d like to mention.

1. I always love it when Sarah tells Sebastian off. Two of my favorites are:

I had been a fool to push him this far.

"Now you will listen and you will listen well," he began, his voice a low, menacing rumble as he brought his face close enough to mine that the warm waves of his breath washed over my face as he continued, "If I have not made it clear in the past, you owe me a great debt for where you are right now. If it were not for me, you would still be in a wheelchair, or worse, murdered by those men who I have protected you from. My master would not have offered you a position as a maid had I not suggested it. You would not be gaining such attention by the Queen if I had not agreed to train you. So, yes, I will train you as long and hard as I feel is necessary, because you owe it to me," he paused, his eyes searching mine.

While he had been speaking, tears had begun to unwillingly spill from my eyes in response to the painful hold he had on my jaw and how cutting his words were, wetting his pristinely white gloves. I had come to realize the night of the ball just how possessive Sebastian had felt towards me, but I had not seen any indication that he felt it to this degree until now. So was that it…he felt he could do these things…he could demand my upmost obedience, touch me and play with my heart as he pleased, even push me to the brink of breaking me physically because he felt he owned me? My heart clenched as the piercing dagger of the truth thrust deep inside. The man who stood before me, the one who I had come to admire, who I considered a dear friend, who had, in fact, done so much for me to the point that I had started to believe he loved me and that I had begun to love in return, was no better a man than the likes of Mr. Woodley. If anything, he was worse.

He gave my cheeks a slight squeeze, snapping my attention back to the present before he continued, "It is infuriating enough that I am saddled with an insolent cur as a master and servants who could not survive if I did not constantly fix their idiotic mistakes, do not give me reason to add you to my list of grievances. However, if you cannot accept my standards, then leave and do not make me waste any more of my time."

As the last venomous word passed his lips, the bridle on my anger snapped. Without thinking, I jerked my knee up to strike his groin, just as he had taught me, causing him to crumble to the ground.

"Accept your standards?!" I spat, my fists clenching with rage as I glowered down at his wheezing form, "How could I accept such absurd standards?" I paused briefly, crouching next to him as I took a fistful of his hair in my hand, pulling back so that he was forced to look at me, knowing I would not have much more time before he recovered from my blow, "If I have not made it clear in the past, you, nor any other man for that matter, owns me. I am Sarah Anne Wakefield and I am a woman of my own possession and I will not be guilted or bribed into being anything other than what I am, a free woman. Now if you cannot accept that, sir, then you are no better than men like my father or the Mr. Woodley who you have come to despise so much."

Chapter 17- Valentine’s Day Misfortune

And

“How long was I out?”

While I waited for his answer, I traced a hand along my skull to search for the source of the incessant pulsation. A whimper sounded from my throat when my fingers brushed against something tender, sticky, and warm.

“Not long. But long enough for me to kill the rest of the crew.” Sebastian answered, gently pulling my hand away.

His eyes widened, and I turned, ignoring the screaming objection of my head, to see what was causing his alarm- the dripping crimson that coated my fingers and stained the cuff of my shirt.

“This has gone on long enough. We are returning to the townhouse.”

“No!” I objected, jerking my arm from his grasp when he made to scoop me up in his arms.

My eyes pricked with tears, Sebastian’s fingers painfully gripping my chin.

His hot, angry breath fanned against my cheeks as he seethed, “That was not a matter of debate. The mission was successful. So we’re returning to the townhouse because your wounds need proper attention. We can interrogate Edward and Lord Willoughby tomorrow.”

“No!” I insisted, despite his answering, exasperated growl, “We have to be the first ones to talk to them. We can’t risk the Infinitas silencing them before we can find out more about Father.”

Fire smoldered in his eyes, nostrils flaring, but I refused to back down. My own determined, unflinching gaze answered his instead.

“Very well.” he spat, “If you insist.”

Without warning, he tugged me forward to press me against his torso. I shoved my hands against his chest and screamed in objection, but he did not budge.

Something warm and wet swiped over the wound on the back of my head once, then twice. My cries ceased and I blinked, mind suddenly clearer as the fog lifted, the throbbing of my wound inexplicably gone as well.

It was only then that Sebastian released his hold on me, allowing me to rest against the mast and steady myself.

“Better?” he asked, cocking his brow mockingly before extending an assisting hand toward me.

I scowled at the tattered, blood-stained glove. There was no chance I would reveal that, while my head was in a far better state, the rest of my body still felt as if I had been run over by a coach. Instead, I rose to my feet- ignoring the pain that shot up my thigh- brushing against his outstretched hand as I did so.

Sebastian’s gaze narrowed while he watched me dust off my pants and give my waistcoat a swift tug.

“In polite society, such assistance is typically answered with some form of gratitude.”

I grimaced, a jolt of pain shooting up my arm as the palm of my hand smacked into Sebastian’s cheek. It was well worth it, though.

His head snapped back, but before he shot off a reply, I grabbed his tie and tugged it to bring our gazes to the same level, my tone even, but no less threatening, “If you touch me like that again without my consent, I’ll break that perfect nose of yours. Got it?”

Chapter 26- The Sea Sprite

2. The Bread Making Scene

Silence fell between us, charged and tense, as we fell into a natural rhythm. Press and pull. Back and forth. My mind clouded over as the rich cinnamon of Sebastian’s scent wafted around me, overpowering the tang of yeast, and I slowly lost awareness of all else save our undulating movements and the hunger it awakened within me. My heartbeat thundered in my ears, the thrill of treading into the unknown silencing any warning from my more rational thoughts. What we were indulging in was illicit...dangerous.

“That’s it.” Sebastian’s voice praised, his voice no more than a gravelly whisper, the air becoming thick and heady as he gave a shuddering breath, “Feel how the mound is becoming firm beneath your fingers.”

A soft gasp escaped my lips, my eyes widening when, as we pressed forward on the the dough once more, an unmistakable hardness pressed against my lower back. Was Sebastian...? As the sound passed my lips, his grip on my hands tightened, almost painfully so, our fingers burrowing deep into the resisting dough. My thoughts whirred sluggishly as we pressed forward once more, torn between propriety and debauchery.

Yielding to such desire was forbidden. If Ciel happened to venture down and discover us, he could give us our notice immediately and he would not be in the wrong, our current behavior dishonorable among those who considered themselves part of polite society. I could demand he cease his salacious behavior. I could storm out in righteous indignation. I could finally put our depraved game to an end and save myself.

However, as his arousal pressed against me, a darker part of my thoughts reminded me that what Sebastian had awoken in me was something that, in spite of the risk, had been one of the most liberating and genuine experiences of my life. Any other pleasure paled in the wake of the carnal force of how it felt to desire him and be desired by him in return. To hold such power over someone who was otherwise so poised, every movement calculated...to see, to feel that composure crumble, giving into insatiable hunger was intoxicating.

Chapter 24- His Butler: Domestic

3. When Sarah finally admits her feelings for Sebastian

My gaze searched his as his honeyed words hung in the air. My heartbeat thundered in my ears, my breaths short and shallow, while my thoughts warred in cacophonous chaos. I should deny it. I should refuse such an offer and return to my quarters. But for what, to delay desire another day? I had reached the pinnacle of release from fantasies of the butler enough to know I could not deny that I wanted him in the most primal, gut-wrenching way possible. And I had experienced the sting of longing for his return and delight in his company enough to know that I loved him.

No, the only way I would ever be safe from Sebastian would be to leave and I should. Despite the danger, I should advertise for a different post under a new master, a new butler-one who could not ignite my body with a mere look.

However, I knew deep down that such a solution would be temporary at best. The connection Sebastian and I shared was something that transcended reason. No matter the time, no matter the space that separated us, I knew unequivocally that chance, fate, God, whatever name humanity assigned the ruling forces of the universe, would lead us together. I was drawn to him, his presence alone magnetic, drawing me to him with the intensity of a collapsar. And I was tired of fighting.

I took a deep breath, trailing my fingers up his torso, relishing as he tensed under my touch. Sebastian’s hurried breath mingled with mine, his eyes sparking with voracious hunger as I snaked my hand around the back of his neck. My eyes closed as I pulled his face to mine, my lips brushing against his as I breathed, with finality and conviction…

“Yes.”

As Sebastian’s lips captured mine, a fleeting hesitation whispered in my mind. Loving Sebastian was dangerous. My desire uncontrollable and consuming. It was like a fire, unquenchable, an ever present threat, for such a heat could devour and destroy as much as it could comfort and please. However, my thoughts whispered in answer as he shoved me against the ledge, our teeth clicking from our fervor, our hands tangling in the other’s hair, such a threat did not frighten me.

I wanted to burn.

Chapter 24- His Butler: Domestic

At the risk of this post being too long already, I’ll stop there, even though I have so many more I could list (like the interactions with the other servants, Nina, Ciel, Menowin, and Madame Red).

Just out of curiosity, what are some of your favorite moments from Wicked Game? I’m always curious to see what catches readers’ attention. (And that question is open to everyone, if you’d like to answer ^_^)

Thank you again for submitting this ask. I love gushing about this story. It’s my literary baby, so I enjoy talking about it every opportunity I can. Take care, darling!

#fanfiction #asks #asks open #wicked game #kuroshitsuji #black butler

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jawritter · 5 years ago

Text

Burn

**Warnings** SMUUTTTT!! LOL. Unprotected Sex. Oral Sex, male and female receiving. Language. Daddy Kink. I think that’s it.

A/N: All mistakes are mine! Please don’t copy my stuff!! Cross-posted on Wattpad! This is just a little Jensen Ackles one shot for you guys! Hope you enjoy it! As always feedback is appreciated!!

Word Count: 2398

Pairing: Jensen Ackles X Reader

Want more? Check out my Masterlist!

***********MASTERLIST*************

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Even from across the room, his piercing green eyes could penetrate through impenetrable steel.

You watched with battered breath as his gaze slowly moved over you, from your heels, all the way to your eyes. A fire burning just under the surface that you knew all too well. A low smolder, like hot coal glowing as the wind brushes by it, sparking higher and higher with each passing breeze.

This kind of burning was more effective than a roaring fire because it lasts longer, burns slower, devouring its way from the inside out; licking at it until there isn’t anything left. Until everything was permanently shifted and altered to its every whim.

His tongue rolled across his plump bottom lip as he tilted his head ever so slightly to the right, drawing his teeth across the pink flesh in the wake of his tongue.

A visible shiver went ripped through your body before you could hide it. You bit the inside of your check hard to stifle the moan that threatened to make its way past your lips in the crowded room you were standing in.

Jensen’s eyes never left yours as he brought his scotch he’d been sipping on up to his lips. The perfect crystal resting smoothly against the soft pillows you so badly wanted to drag your teeth over as he poured the remainder of the amber liquid down his throat in one smooth pull.

You shifted on your feet, eyes locked with his as he placed his glass on the table next to him, and started to stalk toward you in almost a predatory strut. His solid black ensemble hugged his thick body in all the right places and seemed to make the man literally drip sex. A smirk on his lips, his sinful tongue resting at the edge of his perfectly white teeth, teasing you, giving you just enough of a peak to drive you crazy.

By the time he made it across the room to you, you were putty in his hands and he knew it. He knew the effect he had on you, and he loved it.

His strong calloused hand reached out and took the wine glass from your hand, placing it on the table next to you before he reached around you he places a hand on your lower back. Your tight, black cocktail dress did very little to stop the heat radiating off of your body at his close proximity, and the pantie melting smirk he gave you told you he could see right through your attempt at a cool exterior.

“You look gorgeous tonight, sweetheart,” he leaned down to whisper in your ear. His hot breath left a trail of fire under the surface of your rapidly overheating skin, stoking the deep burn that was low in your belly.

“But I think it’s about time to see what that dress looks like on the floor,” his voice growled with the promise of what was to come when you got home, and you couldn’t almost taste your desire on your own tongue as his eyes roamed your body like a predator, eyeing his prey.

Your heart was pounding so hard in your ears you were almost sure he could hear it, even over the chatter of the crowded room.

“Yes, sir,” you breathe out in a whisper that was so damn close to a moan you were surprised people didn’t turn around and stare at you.

Jensen smirked down at you, eye crinkles becoming more prominent in his deep gaze.

“Good girl,” he husked in your ear again, making you shiver in his hold.

His smell was intoxicating, wrapping around you, and making your sense blur, all rationality and morals quickly flying right out of the window, and fuck you loved it.

Jensen led you out of the room and down to the lobby where the valet brought his car around, his strong hand never left the small of your back as he guided your way down the steps to the passenger side of the car, waiting until you were seated before closing the door, and strutting around the car to the driver’s side.

This was not the first encounter between Jensen and yourself, it had happened many times before, and you were powerless to resist him. Not that you ever wanted to.

He was your drug. You were addicted to him. No matter how much you tried to justify it, no matter how much you tried to deny it, you were hooked, he had you, and you didn’t even want to get away or get clean.

You liked the disease.

You were no sooner through the door of your apartment before Jensen was on you, shoving your back against the wall, his large, thick, muscular, yet lean frame towering over you and caging you in. Hands were on your hips as his lips attacked yours, claiming your mouth with his own. His tongue glided over yours with ease, dancing together like they’d done so many times before.

You could still taste the scotch on his breath, mingled with the spearmint gum he was chewing as he pulled your lower lips between his teeth, nibbling at you lightly as he pulled away and sending shock waves through your body like only he could.

By the time you parted you both were panting.

Jensen grabbed your hand in his, leading you through the dark apartment, not bothering to turn any lights on. He didn’t need them, he had been here enough he knew where his destination was.

He pulled you harshly through the bedroom door, and you didn’t even have time to close it properly before he was on you again, strong, calloused hands roaming your body, his warm lips leaving little wet kisses all the way down from the shell of your ear to your pulse points where your shoulder meets your throat.

Slick quickly began to cover the thin black thong you had adorned for tonight’s occasion. Every time he was with you this way, it was like he was brand new. You never got tired of exploring his skin, tracing every little freckle with the tip of your tongue, his bare chest on display for you, his bowtie, suit, and shirt long forgotten on the floor...

Sliding your way down his body you get on your knees in front of him, running your hands up his thick bowed legs you make your way up to his belts, finally freeing him from the confines of those damn slacks that drive you crazy, revealing those tight boxers that are nothing to hide the prominent bulge tenting the thin fabric there.

You run your flat palm up his thick erection, and he shutters against the door he was leaning on. You never get tired of hearing his sharp intake of breath when you tease him. True to his form Jensen is impatient, and you knew he wouldn’t let you tease him for very long.

Reaching down himself he slides his boxers down, kicking them away as they reach his ankles.

“Don’t tease me, baby, you know Daddy doesn’t like a tease.” he husked down at you, pumping his thick length a few times before lining the swollen, red, leaking tip up with your lips.

You took him all in one swift swallow of your lips, nose to his hilt, surprising even him, hollowing your checks out to give him a little more room, and flattening your tongue against the thick vein that ran under his throbbing shaft.

Jensen’s hand slids its way through your hair, wrapping it around his large hand, guiding your mouth over him as he rocked his hips into you, the tangy taste of precum tart on your tongue, but fuck you love it.

Slick coats your thighs more as you watched his face as he uses you to pleasure himself. His head was thrown back against the door, his strong jaw clenched tight, eyes slammed shut, those adorable eye crinkles you loved so much showing to you even in a dark room, his chest heaving heavily as he fucked himself into your waiting mouth, pulling almost all the way out before shoving his way back in; making you gage a little around the tip of him every time he hit the back of your throat.

Tears were streaming down your face, but you didn’t mind, not even a little.

Soon his hips started to falter, and he jumped away from you with a hiss falling from his perfect lips. He smirks down at you, shaking his head as he helps you to your feet before backing you to the bed behind you, not stopping until the back of your legs hit the bed frame, and you fall to your back.

“You’re a little too damn good at that, baby girl. Almost ended this before it even got started.”

His eyes raked over you like you were his last damn meal, his hands slipping down your side, pulling the zipper of your dress with him, ripping it from your body as soon as he had the zipper free. Your uncovered breast springing free, and a primal growl left Jensen’s lips, one you had heard so many times but it still seems to ruin you every time.

Backing your way up against the headboard, Jensen crawls his way above you as you move, his leaking tip grazing your thighs as your back meets the cold wood of the headboard of the bed, his mouth sealing around your overly sensitive nipples; it was almost enough to send you over the edge right there.

Little moans falling from your lips as his tongue swirled around each nipple before sucking at them slightly, pulling them between his teeth, and letting them go with a pop. Your back arched into him, your head was spinning, your core throbbing and clenching around nothing as he slid your thong down your legs with his teeth.

His green eyes, full of mischief, never leaving yours as he dropped the thong on the side of the bed.

You couldn’t take any more of his teasing, you had been wound up for too long, he’d been away for too long, and you wanted more than anything just to feel him inside of you.

You were squirming underneath him as he ran his hands up the back of your thighs, moving your legs apart, exposing you to him. He smirked that damn smirk that was enough to kill you, watching your destress.

“Please Daddy,” you finally beg him, the smirk turning into a full-on grin.

His tongue reaches out and licks a small, rough circle over your swollen clit before he answers you.

“Please what sweetheart?”

He was enjoying himself, and you knew you were in for it.

“What is it you want Daddy to do?”

Your sentence was cut off with a breathy moan as his mouth sealed around your throbbing clit, sucking and eating at you like a man starved, growling against your sensitive skin, creating a whole new sensation altogether.

Your orgasm took you by surprise as your body arched off of the bed on its own, pure hot bliss spreading through your body from your aching center outward, taking your breath away from you and blurring your vision around the edges.

Jensen slowed his ministrations only enough so that he wouldn’t hurt you, working you through your high, not stopping until you went limp underneath him. Aftershocks were still rocking through your body as he crawled his way up you, licking his lips like he’d won a prize, a proud smirk gracing his handsome face.

Brushing your hair out of your face, giving you a moment to recover, he kissed your lips softly, the taste of you still lingering on his tongue as he deepened the kiss. Your head is still spinning a little, but he doesn’t stop until you’re a panting mess underneath him again.

“You were saying?” he asked with a smirk, his lips are only inches above yours, his hot breath fanning over your skin.

“Daddy, please! I need you,” you whimper at him, squirming under him, feeling his red, swollen length now nudging at your dripping entrance.

Without warning he slammed his hips into yours, sliding home in one smooth thrust, and knocking the wind clean out of your lungs as your pussy violently convulsed around him.

He only gave you a moment to adjust before he was pounding into you at a punishing pace. His thick length dragging deliciously against your pulsing walls. His tip hitting that secret spot way down inside of you that only he seemed to be able to reach. The coil in your stomach began to tighten again at a rapid rate, and you were almost delirious with pleasure.

His hands roamed your skin as he pounded you into the mattress, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

There it was again.

That wind that ignited the embers inside of you, taking them from a deem glow, to a steadily eating, purging, burning fire.

Eating away at your soul.

Maring you, making sure you knew you were his, and only his.

Taking away all the pain and the imperfections.

Scorching heat pooling where your bodies were connected, the coil winding tighter and tighter until it was almost unbearable, your end was close and he knew it.

“That’s it, sweetheart, I want to see you come undone around me,” his voice was strained, and deep, sending a fresh wave of fire under your skin, burning you alive.

“Come on baby, cum for Daddy one more time,” he said, his words just a whisper in your ear, his pace never faltering.

That’s all it took.

The coil deep down inside of you snapped, leaving a string of his name mixed with a mess of incoherent sounds as the earth-shattering orgasm consumed you.

Fire fell over your whole body, that little ember hat started at the party turned into a roar of passion now dieing down slightly as you came down from high, turning into a slow, perfect burn.

Jensen worked you through it the best that he could, his own pace faltering as your body put a vise grip around his, pounding deep into you two more times before burning himself deep inside of you, spilling all he had to give you, his body quaking as he emptied himself to you.

This was it.

This was as close as you were sure you’d ever get to heaven.

No words were spoken when it was all over. Jensen cleaned you both off with a warm cloth he’d retrieved from the bathroom before crawling back into bed, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tight to his chest.

That ember burning low in your belly, the one that started in his eyes all those years ago, that sparked in you, and still hasn’t gone out, it probably never will. It was an eternal flame, burning brighter even after it all goes dark. Your light when you think you have none. Your peace, your warmth, burning into your very soul.

“Love is like a friendship caught on fire. In the beginning a flame, very pretty, often hot and fierce, but still only light and flickering. As love grows older, our hearts mature and our love becomes as coals, deep-burning, and unquenchable.”

— Bruce Lee

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Tag List:

@deanwanddamons @imabitch4jensen @rvgrsbrns @bi-danvers0

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bbrandy2002 · 5 years ago

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The Fall of Cordonia

Chapter Two-Let Mercy Come

Book: The Royal Heir

Summary: More characters fall victim to the attack. Liam makes an uncertain decision. Bradshaw's plan for Riley begins. Leo makes a grand entrance.

A/N: This is dark and may be difficult to read, so just a heads up. Due to the subject matter, this will not be a long series. Thanks for pre-reading @burnsoslow and tossing around ideas @sirbeepsalot

Warning: Character deaths mentioned. Gun violence and profanity.

Characters belong to Pixelberry.

Let me know if you want removed from tags:

@khakie4 @jemrmax2love @princess-geek @rainbowsinthestorm @annekebbphotography @ao719 @carabeth @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @lodberg @romanticatheart-posts @duchessemersynwalker @cordoniansqueen @burnsoslow @riseandshinelittleblossom @kimmiedoo5 @innerpostmentality @sirbeepsalot @emceesynonymroll @janezillow @cordoniantrash @jovialyouthmusic @dcbbw @moonlightgem7 @lovemychoices @mallorycortez @angi15h @hopefulmoonobject @gardeningourmet

With white flashes of fluorescent and the nauseating smells of burnt flesh and antiseptic, Drake suddenly became aware of his surroundings and bleak reality. He is pushed past rows of stretchers, lining the corridor of the hospital, each carrying victims of a senseless attack...the dead, the dying and the damned. He was thrust briskly against a wall, to now take his place amongst them.

As the frenzied hands of medical staff ripped at his shirt and inspected his wounds, he could hardly feel any pain as the sound of sorrow incapacitates his senses. Drake attempts to reach up and cover his ears, to deafen the sting of the anguish that lavished the air, only to have them pushed back down at his side.

If the horror of his environment weren't harsh enough, thoughts of Maxwell dying overcame him, as the dried blood on his face had been mixed with the fresh blood of his friend. Then there was Riley, what had become of her fate after being seized by crazed soldiers, all too exhilerated by her capture. Would they kill her...torture her...violate her? He wallows in speculation while a large part of him wishes the needle that was injecting pain medicine into his veins would pierce his heart, at least it would end his torment.

While waiting with dozens of other souls in a triage area, Drake catches a glimpse of Bertrand, wandering without aim, shell shock etched across his disconcerted face, as he continues his trek. Drake attempts to let out a hallowed call, fearing now for the welfare of his sister and nephew.

Bertrand is brought out of his daze after he hears Drake's pleas and he turns quickly, hopeful its a doctor with news of Savannah's surgery.

Panicked, Bertrand explains with much sorrow, that Savannah was shot at the Valtorian estate, while he and Hakim were riding the nearby nature trails the Queen had recently opened. Bartie was with a nanny, visiting the menagerie and he had yet to hear from them. All decorum was lost, as his eyes frantically beg the door to open, revealing a very much alive and unharmed toddler, he curses loudly with each disappointment.

With hands gripped firmly to the railing of Drake's stretcher, Bertrand struggles to remain on his feet; he wants to collapse, but, can't let go of hope, not yet. He suddenly senses an absence, someone was gone from his life, and an unsettled feeling causes him to become frantic.

"Where's Maxwell?".

The same hot tears that formed after the destruction, found themselves covering Drake's eyes again. He swallows hard, willing himself to succumb to the medication and take him away to a dreamland, one where he doesn't have to break such heartbreaking news.

Bertrand's eyes search Drake's, he could see it, he could feel it, and he knew where his brother was. With his head bobbing, barely able to hold itself up, "Please Drake....tell me Maxwell is okay?"

Drake closes his eyes tightly and shakes his head, fuck, "I'm so sorry Bertrand...Maxwell... is gone".

Bertand tilts his head back, staring blankly, taking deep, painful breaths....

"Maxwell, hit the brakes!", shouted a 10 year old Bertrand, as his 5 year old, little brother, went skidding across concrete on his bicycle. Maxwell had begged their father to teach him how to ride for months, but, finally gave up after hearing, yet again, he didn't have time. Bertrand, who hated the outdoors, watched in amusement from his bedroom window, as his brother, made an attempt to teach himself.

He made his way down the staircase and out the front door to the long and winding driveway that led to their home.

"Bubby...I can teach you to ride if you want".

Maxwell's eyes beamed, he loved it when his big brother spent time with him.

After hitting the pavement, Bertrand checked on and kissed his "boo boo", just like their mother did. He helped him get back up and encouraged him to try it one more time, while he held on to the handle bars to steady the bike.

Slowly he took off, Bertrand guiding him along, then faster....faster...release. Maxwell rides off by himself, laugher filling the air, the wind blowing through his brown locks, sweeping in all directions.

"I'm doing it Bertrand....look at me".

With a large smile, Bertrand jumped with his hands above his head, celebrating along with his brother, "I see you Max...I told you it was easy".

He watched Maxwell peddle down the driveway, swerving to miss rocks and loose sticks. When he finished, he hopped off his bike, letting it fall to the ground and ran to Bertrand. Maxwell grabbed his older brother and attempted to lift him up to share his happiness and victory. Bertrand chuckled, "I don't think you can do that bubby".

"Thank you Bertrand, you're the best brother ever!", he exclaimed excitedly, while hugging him around the waist.

"You're the best brother too, Max".

The air surrounding Bertrand turned ice cold as his heart literally broke into a million pieces. He whispers somberly to himself, "My bub... is gone?".

Drake gave him a sympathetic nod, as a tired and worn doctor approaches, wearing his fraught emotions on his sleeve, "Duke Beaumont".

Due to the number of victims waiting for surgery, the doctor shared the news of Savannah's death openly, rather than opt for a quieter location. Just as soon as the words were spoken, the doctor hurriedly rushes back to the operating theater to attend to the next, of his many patients.

Drake tries to bolt up, however, the effects of his medicated state was hitting him like a ton of bricks, he was woozy and heavy. Making every effort to yell for his sister, his voice was muffled and unclear. What the fuck is going on...what the fuck.

Bertrand collapses to his knees with a hard thud, no longer having the will or strength to live.

************

After several hours of anxiety induced waiting, the two guards that had been sent by Bastien to check the safety of the palace grounds, finally return to the bunker.

They shared the grim news of the status of Palace staff, however, the occupation of the city by Auvernal appeared to be retracted.

Bastien led Liam through the tunnels, secret passages, and finally through a wall book shelf that opened into Liam's office.

The stench of death was overwhelming as it mixed with the smoke of nearby fires. Liam covered his nose with his hand, shocked by the appearance of his pillaged study. He glanced over the room with purpose as he walked around it, taking in the damage, before running to the entryway, to check on the body that laid still on the floor.

He knelt down beside the blonde haired woman, littered with holes throughout her slender physique, and slowly pushed her over onto her back, "Madeleine?"

Rubbing his hands over his face, she was his first taste of the brutality that awaits him outside his confines. His thoughts were swirling with trepidation, he was the King of this country and the weight of this dilemna fell squarely on his shoulders. He stood to peak out the window behind his desk, the crunch of glass under his shoes following him. Liam pushes aside the broken blinds and can't believe the sight of his once beautiful country in desolation. Smolder and ash, painted the once pristine view of the sea and sirens blared in all directions.

Bastien instantly began trying to re-establish communication, he wasn't certain what Liam's plans were at this point, however, outside assistance was needed promptly. Within minutes, he is able to tap into the palace's backup cell and internet generators, "Your Majesty, we are connected again".

Liam has never considered taking a life, he never felt it was necessary or needed. How can he punish innocent people for the actions of one man.....

******

"King Bradshaw, I apologize for interrupting your breakfast, but, the Cordonian Queen is settled in her room", a servant exclaimed.

Bradshaw wiped the corner of his mouth, remaining composed, "Very well, see that nurses attend to her injuries and I will pay our guest a visit following my meal.......oh, and make sure the video feed is ready".

"Yes, sir".

******

Liam had a decision to make, he knew he didn't have the manpower to do it with though. He paced the room, feeling powerless and weak. On the floor, were shattered photos, that of his wedding, his son, his late mother, he bends down and wipes away the broken glass and dirty bootprints that left their symbol on each one.

Across the room, laid Madeleine, still hanging onto an eery death stare, as Bastien covered her with the throw from Liam's sofa.

He leaned on his desk, sweating profusely and feeling the grime in the air penetrate his flesh. Anger could not cloud his judgement, but, damn if he didn't want revenge.

A King's guard knocks loudly on the doorframe of Liam's study, the door still held open by the late Countess. He bows, "Your Majesty", he says slightly out of breath.

"What is it Paul?"

The guardsman steps to the side, as another guard, holding a woman in his arms enters.

Liam's eyes widen with astonishment and disgust as her face falls to the side, revealing her identity. He nearly loses his mind as he begins running both hands through his matted, disheveled hair.

"Bastien....get the Italian Prime Minister on the phone...".

******

Bradshaw had finished his breakfast and was eager to check in on Riley, still hopeful that Liam would contact him soon, now positive he survived the attack.

A flustered guard walks into the dining room, bowing before Bradshaw, "Your Majesty, Leo Rhys is insistent that he meet with you,now....shall I kill him or let him in?".

King Bradshaw burst into laughter, quite amused by this surprise, "Absolutely not....I would love to hear from this...has been...please send him in at once".

Bradshaw hustles to the dining room safe, opening it and pulling out a silver .50 caliber hand gun. He holds it up before him, twisting it in his hands, admiring its power and lethal prowess.

The door bursts open with vigor and Leo searches the room, his eyes landing on the small statured man with the blood of his countrymen on his hands.

"Mother Fucker!!!", Leo yells and then lunges forward with vengence.

Bradshaw aims the gun in his direction and pulls the trigger, releasing a powerful burst of energy that thrust Leo to the floor. "You were saying?".

******

Liam turns to Bastien, uncertain of his decision, but, now completely obsessed with retalliation. With Queen Isabella and their young children in Paris, he felt this was the time to strike.

"Italian bombers are en route to Auvernal....its time for payback", Liam says with waning optimism.

"What about civilians, sir?", Bastien asked with concern.

"I've asked that only military installations be the target, as well as, a special surprise for Bradshaw", he pauses for a moment, "...he and his palace are about to be obliterated".

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real-sotenbori-hours · 5 years ago

Text

As You Like - Majima Goro x Fem reader ~ smut

Summary: After a busy night at Sunshine, Majima makes the grave mistake of kicking back at one of the tables for a sec... and you decide this is the perfect time to physically demonstrate how much you love this fucking dude.

You’re alone in the back room, having just changed, packing up your stuff. Youda-san knocks twice and cheerfully informs you that he’s locking up, heading out, and thank you for your excellent work tonight. You laugh and thank him right back, zipping up your bag and pushing the chair back into the vanity.

You swing the door open, switch off the light in the back room and shut it, assuming it’s just you in this now dimly lit place of splendor and excitement. Something about being alone in a building typically packed with beautiful women, big spending men and an energy of excess turns you on for some undefinable reason.

Looks like you’re all alone... and you can’t shake your arousal. You’re tempted to do something about this rush that’s running up and between your legs... something exhilarating, a secret you’ll keep with yourself, something that’ll put a hell of a smirk on your face the next night you work, and then some. You start scanning the room for the booth that most strikes this filthy fancy within you.

All alone.

Darkness surrounds you, teasingly. Total darkness but two of the globe table lights sleepily lit at the far front of the room.

You slowly saunter towards the stage, surveying the two booths subtly inviting you to indulge yourself.

The veil of obscurity spurs you on. You scan the room, noticing a figure sprawled out in the corner.

You assumed you were alone, and you were wrong.

The muted, faint sound of relaxed breathing draws you close and as your eyes adjust, you can finally make out the identity of this tired silhouette.

His hair barely brushing the back of the booth, you catch the warm glow of the globe light, illuminating the gorgeous face of your boss, Majima fucking Goro. Each of his arms extended along the top of the cushioned support as his legs hung wide open, allowing him to stretch out completely.

The heat pools between your eager thighs at the mere thought of taking advantage of this stunning god of a man. In your schoolgirl mind, any woman in his mere presence had to be helplessly enamored with him. How could you not be? You’re certain you’ve hid your desperate adoration well, thinking it best to never act above your respective station... but there he is, napping peacefully after a big, booming evening... and now you couldn’t care less, all you wanted was to drop to your knees before him.

So you do.

You crawl underneath the table, trying to stifle a giggle at your mischieviousness. On your knees, you slide between his, slowly running your hands up the inside of his legs. Euphoric with desire, you watch his face as you sink your fingertips into his thighs, breathing slowly, seductively. He twitches, releasing a quiet moan. His lap tightens and you gleefully watch as a stiffness makes itself apparent. You rake your nails along the stretches of his inner thighs, coaxing his arousal to grow. It does. Feeling brazen, you delicately pull on the overlap of his belt, prying it free from the pin. Just as you’d had it almost undone, his eye flies open, spearing you with a look of alarm... and curiosity.

Your face erupted, burning... what’d you expect? To hide your panicking fear of rejection, you lean back, sitting on your heels and tilt your head, pursing your lips.

He sighs, and those stupidly kissable lips part ever so slightly. “Well, well, well... Y/N-chan, what on Earth do ya think yer doin’ down there?”

Lust courses through your veins like a fucking drug. You cackle and reach for the back of your neck, unsnapping the top of your dress and letting it drop freely to your waist, exposing your breasts. His eye widens. “H-h-oly...” You reach for your nipples and start slowly tweaking them. He places his hand on his lap and palms himself. “Y/N-chan, I never thought you’d had the balls...”

You lick your lips, tossing your head back, “Why, whatever do you mean, Majima-san... the balls with which to demonstrate my tireless devotion?” You leave one hand on your breast and move the other down your side, slinking it up your dress, between your thighs, working slowly...

His breath hitches.

“Devotion, eh... ta lil’ ol’ me? Y/N-chan, I’m impressed that ya took initiative... I like that.” He keeps rubbing himself, slowly. Breathing, slowly. Smirking. You try to laugh but it all feels too good. You start to shudder and he sits up, sensing that you’re close.

He kicks his leg out, knocking the table over in one fell swoop and drops to his knees before you, grabbing your hand from between your thighs and running his tongue up and along your pruning fingers, his eye blown wide with desire, piercing into yours. You whimper. With his free hand, he grasps the nape of your neck and yanks you toward him, crashing his mouth onto yours, prying your lips apart, slipping his tongue in.

You pull him in by his collar and deepen the kiss, losing all consciousness of everything but the electric current rushing through you. He pulls away and leans into your ear, “Hey, come a lil’ closer. I have been dyin’ to find out just how good that body feels, flush against mine...” An involuntary moan escapes you at his smoldering words as he continues to grip your neck with one hand, bringing your lips together while pushing you against the booth, steadying himself with the other. “Mmmm... fuck, Y/N-chan... I’ve barely even touched ya and yer drivin’ me crazy...”

His admission goads you as you slip your hands beneath his jacket, pulling him free. He undoes his tie with one hand and pulls it straight from his collar, snapping it with both hands and grinning. “Lie back, Y/N-chan. Ya caught me off guard. Now it’s my turn. Close yer eyes.” You do as instructed, exhaling deeply.

He runs his lips along your cheek to the shell of your ear as he wraps that soft, black, silky strip of decorum around your eyes, fastening it behind your head, dazing you with a faint whiff of his cologne. He rolls his bottom lip up the other side of your neck to your earlobe and chuckles, “Since ya think yer in charge, I’m gonna have ta remind ya where ya stand.”

“Yes, sir. You’re right.” You whimper. He gets more tantalizing by the minute. For fuck’s sake, if he brushes your cunt even haphazardly, you’re going to come like a fucking fountain.

He runs a long finger over your blindfold, pressing down on the bridge of your nose. “You been entertainin’ some less than professional thoughts about me, Y/N-chan?” He strokes your jawbone.

“Yes, sir. I have. I touch myself to them all the time.”

Once again, his breath hitches.

He wraps his hand around your throat, squeezing, biting your bottom lip, hissing, “That so? And what am I doin’? Markin’ yer soft, tasty skin, showin’ every man in sight who yer thinkin’ of? Feastin’ on ya like the goddamn delicacy that you are? Poundin’ into ya over n’ over?”

“Mmmm, fuck...” You tilt your head, searching for his mouth... lazily bringing a hand to your lap, under your dress...

“Ne, Y/N-chan. You’ve lost yer privileges fer now. Sit on yer hands. I’m gonna use ‘em later.” You obey. He gropes your breasts, pinching your nipples until you moan, leaning in to take your mouth again. “Majima-san, please...” you whisper, “I wanna wrap my arms around you, feel you...I need you closer...” He fists your hair, yanking your head back over the seat of the booth and licks from your clavicle up to your chin. “I don’t think so, babygirl. A lesson’s a lesson. A good boss makes sure his girl knows her place.”

He kisses you deeper, more intimately than before, holding your face with both hands.

“Goddamn... I just can’t get enough of ya, Y/N-chan...” You suck in a deep breath, frustrated, bucking your hips, desperate for friction, “Majima, please, I can’t take it anymore, I need your touch... please...”

He clicks his tongue and sits back on his heels, taking in the sight of you: ablush, tits out, begging with each panting breath for a fucking MODICUM of lasting physical contact. Every time he pulls away, you’re left burning. Your desire swells on the verge of combustion. You can’t fucking take it. He laughs and leans forward, placing a hand on each of your knees.

This fantasy that you’ve teased and touched yourself to for months... finally coming to fruition... you can’t help but tremble. You sigh, voice dripping with want, “Majima-san...”

Gripping each knee, he rips them apart, wider than they naturally go. Your dress slinks up over your hips. You moan as he moves quickly, pinning you to the booth. He pecks your lips and grabs your chin. “Ne, Y/N-chan. You can call me Goro.” You bite your lip as he slowly, painfully rakes his fingertips up your thighs, gripping your hips and curling his fingers beneath the band of your panties.

Hungrily, you rock your hips against his hands, begging him to remove the pesky fabric separating your starving cunt from delicious contact. He pulls them down one side at a time, one inch at a time. You groan. “Goro, take them off. I can’t fucking wait any longer...”

He growls and smacks the side of your bare ass with an open palm. “I fuckin’ love me an impassioned woman...” He rolls them over your thighs and down, you lift your legs and he peels them further, past your knees, along your calves and off. The cool air hits the dripping mess radiating from your core, your scent sending shivers through Majima like a gust of cold wind and dry heat at the same damn time. He snarls. “So this is how ya smell when yer cravin’ me, babe?”

You smirk. “I always smell like this.”

He moans a trail of airy kisses along your inner thighs, kneading with his fingertips. “Yer divine. I can’t wait to taste from the source.” You squeak as he grabs your ass and lifts your lower body up, dangling your legs from his shoulders, leaving you guessing in complete darkness. You take in a deep breath and just as you release it, you’re granted the tip of his warm, wet tongue sliding up your folds, poking at your swollen bud.

“Fuck, Goro-kun! Fuck, it feels so fucking good, baby...”

He grips you harder, pulling his face deeper into you, lapping you up, praising you. He adds two fingers into you, stretching you, finding you ridiculously tight, moaning into you, wanting to work you up more and more and then hear you beg, more and more. Your fingers dig into the carpet, your entire body trembling while your thighs vibrate violently, toes curling hard enough to cramp your calves, you bleat, “Goro, baby, I’m gonna fuckin’ explode, you’re so fucking good, I-I can’t—-”

He rips the blindfold from your eyes, beaming into them as he watched your release break over you: screaming, not giving a fuck if anyone outside in the alley can hear you... and watching you not give a fuck, coming so hard that nothing else mattered... generously releasing yourself all over him...

He continues, slowly sucking your clit; sucking your obsession, your lust, your pining, your hopeless infatuation that you thought would go forever unanswered, right out of your womanhood, dripping down his irresistible mouth as he licked it all up, savoring every drop, groaning, thirsty for more.

You whimper, unable to speak, shaking, slowly floating back down to Earth like the last leaf of Fall.

You lie there, lethargic, a puddle of bliss. Majima reaches for his belt, not breaking eye contact. “Yo, Y/N-chan...”

You sit up to smooth the skirt of your dress, preparing to redress yourself, assuming he had somewhere to be, assuming this amazing evening was over.

“...Where in the hell do ya think yer goin’?” He hissed, “Take two fingers, I wanna watch ya fuck yer pretty self while I lose the rest of my threads...” without a second’s hesitation you instantly slip two fingers into yourself, working slowly, staring right into him, inviting him to take complete ownership, moaning softly, glistening all over again...

He glares, “...And now a third. Good girl.”

Finishing what you started, he pulls his belt completely apart, making quick work of his pants and remaining undergarments. He lunges forward, ripping your dress off of you in one smooth motion, tossing it over his shoulder aggressively in the opposite direction. Feral.

“You think fer one second that after just a slice of that ravishing body, I’m not gonna want the whole damn thing?” He strokes himself once, twice, and immediately stands at full, glorious girthy attention.

He kneels before you, placing each hand on your thighs, lowering his face just above your lap, pausing for a moment, as if to pray. Peppering your thighs and stomach with kisses and bites, he works his way up. Pulling your hand free, he sucks your fingers and replaces them with his own, groaning. He then takes a nipple into his mouth, kissing it, and then wraps a hand around your nape once again and a jolt of humidity and wetness zaps right to your cunt, coating his fingers, forcing a sweet, faint whine from his intoxicating lips.

He punctuates it, feverishly taking your lips again, tongues and teeth intermingling in the most carnal, desirous, all-encompassing kiss possible. It was perfect. He’s fucking perfect. You return the sentiment, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, wrapping both hands around this neck, pulling his mouth further into yours because it was all too much and not nearly enough, and all you wanted was to exist within this moment alone. You wanted to melt into the heat of your bodies and remain.

He pinched your chin between his index and thumb, bit it lightly and tilted your head down, meeting your eyes. “Watch me give you everything, Y/N-chan... I’m gonna get you off all over again...”

Your eyes roll back before you can catch them, shivering, “Give me all ya got, Goro-kun... make me yours.”

He brings his lips back to yours again and slips his tongue back into your mouth as if breathing heat directly into you. He pulls away abruptly, with a suck.

“That’s a good girl,” he moans as he rubs the tip of his throbbing cock in slow, deliberate circles at your entrance, allowing his eye to roll involuntarily for just a second as he spears you with his gaze. “Eyes on me, Y/N-chan....”

You’re weakening by the minute. He’s so fucking devastatingly sexy, appealing in every sense of the word... if you could overdose on him, you would.

He hooks an arm around your back, pressing his hand into your shoulder while the other holds you open, wider still... he breathes in sharply and slips just his head into you, glaring right into you, smirking. “God, ya look so fuckin’ good, achin’ for me...”

You cried, “More, Goro-kun...”

He chuckles darkly and slams into you, now grabbing under each of your knees, pushing them up to your chest and further apart, further seating himself within you as deeply as fucking possible.

He leans in again and captivates your mouth, pulling back, rearing and thrusting back into you fully, groaning as he feels you grip him like a warm, wet vise. He breaks your kiss and digs his teeth into your neck. “Mmmmm, Y/N-chan... yer so warm... I knew ya would be... god damn, why’d ya have to take so long to come to me?”

Your breath catches in your chest at the mere thought of him regarding you in any way sexually prior to this brazen night.

“Ohhh, Goro-kun, I love knowing that you think of me... uhhh...but wh-uhhh-why didn’t you—-”

He grasps a fistful of your hair and yanks your head back again, exposing your neck to his lips. He presses into you again and moans, “Because, Y/N-chan... I love that ya came to me on yer own. Yer so confident and sexy... yet totally unassumin’... it’s intoxicatin’...” he licks up your neck again and bites down, harder than before, somehow finding the spot that tases your entire body.

You fucking convulse. He sucks your neck mercilessly, now withdrawing and slamming into you viciously, over and over, setting a punishing pace for waiting so long to take what you want.

You plant each hand on his shoulders and push him down, provoking him to pound into you harder, faster... wanting to get fucked raw enough to bleed.

He growls and leans into you again and you grab his face, nipping at his pillowy bottom lip, sucking, inhaling him... pushing him away. You grab his face again with both hands and tilt your forehead against his. “Goro, take a seat. I want to go back to the start of this. I want to make ya feel good.”

A stunned look peeled across his face, “Baby, you do... but hey, I can’t wait ta see what ya got planned...”

He stands, pulling you to your feet as you turn on your ankle and push him into the booth. You giggle and drop to your knees, once again spreading his apart, ghosting up his inner thighs, relishing everything.

You slink your tongue out along his shaft, taking every inch of him into your mouth, little by little. His legs tighten beneath you as he slips his fingers through your hair, twisting. “Mmmm, Y/N-chan... kimochi-ii...”

You look up at him with your lips hugging the tip of his cock. You lick it and sigh, “Keep talking like that and I’ll finish you off right here, right now, Goro-chan...”

He runs a finger along your face and shudders as your mouth keeps working every bit of magic, pulling him closer to the edge. “Y/N-chan, yer incredible...”

You’re starting to ache, wanting to ride him to the blissful end, unable to shake the urge. You stand before him, taking your fingertips to your mouth and bringing them back between your thighs. His eye widens further.

As you return your hand to yourself while continuing to take his every inch deeper and deeper into your mouth, you feel the tell-tale twitch of pre-release begin to rumble from his core. You immediately rise to your feet while digging your nails into his thighs, gradually letting every last inch of him slide past the flat of your tongue on your way up.

He watches you unblinkingly, musing, “Y/N-chan, yer a fuckin’ goddess...”

You grab his shoulder as he instinctively grips your hip, hopping onto his lap, placing your wet heat just against him, leaning in to reunite your lips as you guide his tip to your sweet, weeping slit. You sigh, deepening the kiss as you impale yourself on him, both of you groaning at the complete sensation.

You lean back, gripping just above his knees as you gyrate slowly, watching him fight the urge to roll his head back against the seat. He fans his fingers along your sides, tightly grasping you as he meets your motions with a starved twitch in his hips.

“Y/N-chan, ya know just what yer doin’...” You smirk, rubbing your nipples again as he watches you ride him, a look of admiration on his face. He grabs your neck and pumps into you harshly, stilling you for a moment to let you know just how incredible you feel.

Just as your ever flexing thighs begin to seize, he wraps both of his hands around your neck, sealing your lips together as he stands, still within you, slamming you onto the seat as he latches his mouth at the crook of your neck, reclaiming you with a voracious rhythm.

He sucks a violent kiss from you as he pulls away growling just beneath your ear. “God damn, I’m about ta fill ya up.”

You fill your fingers with the smooth locks of his hair, yanking him in more closely than possible as you whisper, “I want every drop. Leave me dripping.”

He stifles a moan, sinking his teeth so deeply into your shoulder, you feel your skin ripping beneath his teeth. He pounds two, three more strokes into you before pinning you by your shoulders, filling you completely while still sucking your neck.

He rolls onto his side, pulling you on top of him and cradling your face against his chest, twirling your hair, sighing contently.

“Y’know, I’ve thought aboutchya, alone, many times. The thing about you is I could daydream about gettin’ ya all to myself and no matter how wild my ideas of ya are, I still knew all along that the reality of havin’ ya would be ten times better than my darkest fantasies...”

God, what a sexy thing to say. But suddenly the reality of everything that just transpired between the two of you comes bubbling to the surface. You try not to grow too defensive, but in order to protect your expectations and thus your tender heart, you bristle ever so slightly.

“I assumed you had a woman, or a number of them and/or I figured that all the girls here probably vie for your attentions and that you’re plenty satiated... I don’t know...”

“Wrong, Y/N-chan. I got no one at home and all a’ the other girls are like younger siblings to me... like if our parents had me an’ then a litter a’ Trust-Me babies a decade later, ya know? They’re my lil’ sisters, I look out for ‘em and at the end of the day, we all make a comfortable livin’. There ain’t nothin’ like that from my side of things... until you came along.”

Your face burns and you find yourself more grateful for the dim lighting now than ever.

“Mmmm... Well, you hid it well. It never occurred to me.”

“And how would it? I knew you’d come around, so I sat back and watched, on the edge a’ my seat.”

“Was I so obvious?”

“Nah, but I could feel it whenever I was near ya. And I’d catch ya starin’... And I knew if I made a move on ya, I wouldn’t be rebuffed... but it was too fun watchin’ ya all hot n’ bothered all the time.”

Frustration aside, you can’t help but laugh. “That’s what I love about ya, Goro-kun. I wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

You bring yourself closer to him as he meets you, kissing your lips softly, urgently, subtly letting you know that you matter to him.

He takes in a deep breath and sighs, long and pained. “Y/N-chan, you could be the death a’ me.”

“I’m not like that. I’d be so good to you, Goro... but I understand if you think we shouldn’t do this.” You wilt, knowing it’s a very real complication, forcing yourself to be an adult and accept it... and wanting to crumble. You always know better, but you act on impulse anyway. It’s part of your charm even if you’re the one paying the price in the end.

“Ne, that’s not at all what I’m sayin’. I just know now I won’t be able ta keep my hands off of ya!”

You giggle, a wave of relief washes over you as you peck his lips again, pulling away to kiss the tip of his nose, his cheekbones and his forehead. He sits up, reciprocating your affections as he begins gathering his clothes.

“Wanna get somethin’ ta eat? I’m famished.”

“I would.” You smile, slipping back into your dress.

He slides his arms back into his shirt, loosely tucking it into his pants. “Whatever ya want. I did wanna ask ya to dinner anyway so hey, now’s the perfect time.” He chuckles, pulling his pants up, fixing his belt.

“You’re the best, Goro-chan.” You giggle, putting your shoes on, realizing you still haven’t located the last of your effects.

“Ready, Y/N-chan? I got just the place.” He beams, heading for the door.

“Hmm, just a sec... I believe I’m missing something...”

He smirks so slyly, you feel a balmy rush between your legs as you slowly stride towards him.

He cocks his head to the side playfully, hooking his index finger into his pocket, pulling barely an inch of lace into view from its deep confines. “Uh-uh, these are mine... and everything on ‘em.” He leans against the door, motioning for you to walk before him.

You grin, grabbing his hips, cupping him and and breathing against the nape of his neck. “I’ll take care of dessert, then.”

He squeezes your waist, brushing the tip of his tongue along your bottom lip, escorting you out the door.

***

This was my first Majific, wrote it a few months ago while grinding out the cabaret missions in Y0. Glad I finally got around to tweaking it for upload 😏💦 taking requests if ya got em! ARIGATŌGOZAIMASU

Tagging some Yakibabes~

@lonelyselfship 💗💗 @crimsonflowersheaven @a-kiss-from-loki @ohmyfuckinggoro @glitteringroseangel 💗💗

#majima goro #ryu ga gotoku #goro majima #ryu ga gotoku 0 #yakuza fanfic #yakuza fanfiction #majima goro smut #yakuza #yakuza kiwami #goro majima x you #majima goro x you #majima goro x reader #goro majima x reader

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funeral-clown · 6 years ago

Text

for cassie-bird, happy birthday

here is your promised present, bro

many happy returns

He had seemed so friendly at first. Sliding into the bar stool next to him, smile open and a little shy, offering to buy him a drink, Cisco had been stunned. It had seemed almost too good to be true. And if the man’s grin got sharper as the night went on, well, Cisco didn’t believe in looking gift horses in the mouth.

Perhaps he should have looked a little closer at this mouth.

“What’s your name?”, he gasped out, breath puffing hot against the cool lips of the man who had him pressed against the alley wall, finally letting him up to breathe.

His eyes were slits, so he did not see the sardonic grin accompanying the offered “Hunter. Call me Hunter.”

He never got the chance later to ask if it was a joke or just a bitterly ironic twist of fate. The next thing he knew he could feel a wet pressure against his throat, suckling softly.

“Try not to leave any marks.”

Hunter laughed.

“I can’t promise that.”

There was a sharp, piercing pain. Hunter held him hard enough to bruise and gulped down greedy warm mouthfuls of salty hot blood. Cisco was still half hard and grinding weakly against him when he died.

He wasn’t prepared for when he woke up.

They were both held down in front of a crowd of others. Hunter had told him about the council, said they were blind old windbags. Cisco didn’t know what to believe, he’d only been undead a week. All he knew was that Hunter was crazy, even for a vampire, and that every strand of DNA in his body loved him.

Hunter was struggling, fighting, swearing, for all the world looking like a caged mountain lion. Cisco was docile. Quiet. He stared straight forward, cowered slightly, as he would have before a priest back when he could still enter a church.

“Hunter Zolomon,” intoned the man the stood before them, looking down in the crowded room, “You are guilty of turning a human without approval.”

“Fuck approval,” Hunter spat, “And fuck you, Thawne. He’s mine, I smelled him, I courted him, I bit him, i turned him. My childe, mine, and you can’t make me give him up.”

“We could make you stake him yourself. You’re unstable and unsuitable, Zolomon. We all remember what happened with your last childe. This is the last time you break the rules.”

Cisco flinched as the man turned to regard him.

“Look at him, Zolomon. He’s starving. You can’t even feed him properly.”

A low growl built in his mentor’s throat.

“He’s young. Stubborn. He’ll learn.”

“Maybe. But not from you.”

The sudden burning that went through him was unlike any other pain Cisco had ever experienced in his life. A howling wail built up in his throat as his sire, his maker, was reduced to smoldering ash.

Thawne signaled for him to be released.

“Your origins are not your fault. Your sire was insane. He would have destroyed you. You can’t stay in Central City. You’re not welcome here.”

“But-”

“Childe.”.

Cisco quaked in his skin.

“We will take you to Star City. What you become from there is up to you. One day you may be able to return. When your family and friends are all gone. But for now, go. Leave this place. You are banished. You will be gone by sunrise, or you will join your pathetic sire.”

Grief and rage swirled within Cisco like a storm. Throat clenched like a vice, he nodded once and was released. He fled without a glance behind.

“Sir, should we not have killed the fledgling? There’s no telling how it will turn out.”

Eobard hummed consideringly.

“No, but I would very much like to observe.”

Oliver Queen was not the most long tempered of men.

For a werewolf, however, he had a pretty cool head.

“Mom,” he snapped into the phone, “For the last time, I can’t make it up to the cabin this weekend. I’m going to be busy.”

“But Ollie, dear, it’s a full m-” “I KNOW it’s a full moon, mom, I’m just telling you that between work and more work everything’s too hectic to leave right now.”

“Fine.”

Her pout was audible.

“Look, I have to call you back, ok? Ok. Yeah, love you too, mom. Okay. OK, bye.”

With a sigh he ended the call and leaned back on the roof top. His mother may not understand, but the city was his territory, and someone had to defend it. Someone had to protect his turf from hunters and monsters alike. Even if it did get lonely without having pack around sometimes.

A shrill cry split the night, and Ollie was on his feet in an instant, tracking down the scream.

“Please,” he heard, “please don’t come near me, I’m begging you,” and Oliver sped faster toward the muffled sobs.

“Please,” he was almost there now, “Please, I don’t want to hurt you.”

A strange request from a victim.

He flitted down to land softly on the fire escape in an alley in an older part of town. He peered through the gloom at the two figures below.

“Kid, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“Just leave me alone!”

The smaller, distressed one was pressing himself away from the taller man in the suit.

“I just asked your hourly, y’don’t have to get all pissy-”

The smaller man snarled, baring impressive fangs. Huh. Vampire. In Star City. Something hokey was going on.

“Hey,” Oliver lets his voice reverberate through the alley in a low growl, “Fuck off.”

The man fucked off.

Ollie dropped down beside the fledge.

“What the fuck are you doing in my city?”

“What?”

Oliver blinked.

“Star City is mine. Marked and defended. Everyone knows that.”

“Dude did you, like, pee on all the buildings? Is that why the city smells like piss?”

He shoved the stranger against the wall.

“Where’s your sire, pipsqueak? They decide you’re not worth it and throw you to the wolves?”

He let his fangs lengthen as he spoke. The man didn’t even flinch.

“He’s dead. The council sent me here to starve to death.”

“Because they knew I wouldn’t let you kill on my turf.”

“No,” he said, annoyed, “Because I won’t kill, period. It’s wrong.”

Oliver’s brow furrowed. He killed when necessary. He accepted that part of himself. Everyone did. This runt was going to get himself killed.

“What’s your name, whelp?”

“Cisco. And you’d be Lon Cheney?”

Oliver grinned.

“Sometimes. Mostly I go by Oliver. Come with me.”

“What?”

“It’ll be sunrise soon, and you’re an orphan. It just so happens I’m a do-gooder. I’ve got a nice cave, perfect for a bat like you.”

“The last time I trusted a hot, mysterious stranger, I got turned into a vampire.”

“Well that can’t happen twice.”

Cisco shrugged warily. After a second he nodded.

To his surprise, Hot Snarly Wolf Guy had been talking about an actual literal cave. Stereotypes, much?

“You realize this isn’t Lost Boys, right?”

Oliver laughed.

“Just wanted you to feel at home. I figure you’ll be staying with me until we can figure out what to do with you.”

Cisco frowned. He lost one crazy hot guy to get taken in by another.

“Yeah, well, don’t expect me to stay for long.”

Oliver shrugged.

“Your choice. You don’t mind if I do my morning work out, do you?”

Cisco shook his head, eyes suddenly transfixed on Oliver’s shirt as it was tugged up, over, and off his torso.

“Cool. I usually start with the salmon ladder.”

Cisco could stand to hang around for a few days. Maybe.

#olisco #for cas!#it's one of our aus!#oh and hunter is there too but he dead. eo is also there for a sec

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agalmactrl · 5 years ago

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@lytiphile - liked for a starter

An unpleasant evening it was shaping up to be indeed for the butler. An estranged reuniting with kin, shaping up to be more trouble than what it was worth. The suggestion between two brothers, the timing of travel overseas leaving the eldest positioned conveniently where Terence would be flying a week later; a charming hub in the Naples, one lively trip, now burdened with an initial bump in the road. A convenient bother, one the butler would have avoided if pride were not such a troublesome thing. Why retreat from his brother? Why go out of his way to evade a man of such cowardice?

Such a thought was the reoccurring assurance that the butler had carried since the beginning of the evening, tense energy forming into smoldering frustration the longer Terence was made to share the man's space. It felt closer to communicating with a stranger, an enemy than with blood, and it hadn't taken long for either of the men to retreat to opposite ends of the nightly establishment: as far away as possible -- an utter failure.

The bar was an unusual place for the butler to wander, his fiery thoughts smoothing over from rustic simplicity of the space, as well as its jarring contrast to that tacky casino on the other end. Eyes narrowed to the thought of the current patron it harbored.

Seating at the rather crowded booth was selected, a rather irritable motion to pull the chair out resulting in an abrupt bump with one of the patrons with their back turned. The piercing shatter of a delicate glass would immediately catch his attention, the humiliating incident gaining little more than a grit of the teeth. How unlike him to be so careless. Blame would immediately be assigned to his earlier source of annoyance, the notion enough for the younger D'Arby to regain a mild image of composure for the fair-haired man when his head would turn.

"... My deepest apologies, sir. I am simply not myself tonight-"

A curt bow of the head would be passed in his modest gesture of pardon, a stray hand reaching out across the bar to pluck a handful from the established pile of napkins before returning to the pricey spill to begin soaking it up. An attempt to build eye contact was made, hazel hues steady with their conviction.

"Please, allow me to buy you another."

#lytiphile #.Are you ready? - [ ic. ]#04. - MULTIPLAYER [ verse indeterminate ]

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guestbusters-blog1 · 7 years ago

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Chapter One: Life As It Is

I'll be honest. My life pretty much sucked.

Maybe it was because I had asthma, or the fact that I was just born small, but no matter the reason, I still remained an easy target for bullies to torment. Not that I ever complained back to them, of course. If I did, I'd be in much more trouble than I already was.

Often, I thought about standing up for myself. To face the bullies, or to confront my father who completely avoided me, and tell them all what I really thought. I sure had a lot of things to say. But the moment I reached my school, or saw my father's sour expression when he saw me, my courage immediately vanished. I couldn't change the way things were. That was just life as it was.

And, soon, I learned to live with it.

Sure, some days were more painful than others, and sure I often grew irritated with my surroundings, but I kept going. My mother was the reason why, actually. She'd whisper encouraging words into my ear as she checked up on me at night, when it seemed that no one else cared, she'd always be there just to listen, and she would always stick up for me when my father's language was too harsh.

Oh, my father… Stoick Vast Haddock, Mayor of the quaint little town of Berk. He had only been given the job a few years back, but that was all it took for him to forget that I existed. I missed my father a lot these days, with the bullying going on at school and whatnot. He used to set aside some of his time to talk to me, or spend a day fishing at the pond when I was down. He used to. Now, I barely ever seem to see him, and when I do, we usually just share a quick "hello" and "goodbye", but he'd never even look me in the eye.

Mom always said we'd spend more time together in the future; she promised that, if I wait only a little longer, his schedule would die down.

But it never did.

In addition to family problems, I had school problems as well. No surprise there. It wasn't that I was failing my classes. No, not at all. It just had to do with the other students. And the bullies.

First, there was the giant boy, Simon, who absolutely despised me- but everyone called him Snotlout because of a rather disgusting incident from the year before. He was the worst out of all of the other bullies, never ceasing to make fun of something I did, or cause me to trip on my way to the next class. And to top it all off, he was also my cousin, with a father that had serious anger issues teaching gym class at my school. How I was related to such people, I still had no idea.

Then there were the prankster twins, Remy (Ruff) and Tom (Tuff). Whenever anyone saw a loose guinea pig in the hallway, or a science test tube exploded confetti, the twins were always behind it. Unfortunately, they had taken a liking of using me as their "experimenter", and I often came home with my hair smoldering with smoke, or wearing a sign that said KICK ME! on the back.

There were other bullies as well: Alvin, Dagur, Savage, and a few others. They never seemed to tire of humiliating me throughout the years.

Next was Fishlegs. Now, he wasn't exactly a bully, but he did hang out with the group. He never personally said something offensive to me, yet it hurt to know that he would always just stand there and watch me getting beat up without helping.

Finally, there was Amanda Hofferson- but she preferred everyone to call her Astrid, due to her love of asteroids. She was a breathtakingly beautiful girl, with a stunning blonde braid and shimmering blue eyes that would captivate anyone. But I wouldn't want to get on her bad side any day. She was the toughest girl in the whole school, and I knew she wouldn't hesitate to punch or kick somebody if she felt the need. I had had a crush on Astrid ever since I first laid eyes on her, and I still dreamed of her noticing me and giving me one of her rare smiles. But how could that ever happen? I didn't even think she knew my name.

Still. Underneath all my… well… myself, I had some interesting qualities. First off, I could draw. I could sketch, paint, doodle away for hours without a care in the world. And my art wasn't bad at all. My mother keeps on saying my art is one of the most prettiest things she's ever seen- but then again, she's my mother. What else could I expect her to say? I was also pretty smart for my age, and excelled in math, science, and languages. I don't believe I've ever gotten below an A for a grade.

Now that all these introductions are done, you're probably wondering who I am, why I'm here, and wondering just what kind of story I have to share.

Well, I'll answer for you.

My name is Hiccup Haddock, and despite what everyone else believes, I'm more than I seem to be.

I let out a tired sigh as I entered the school building. Almost automatically, I hunched over, trying to keep as invisible as I could. I wasn't in the mood for bullying today. I had had to stay up late the night before studying for a math test, and I would be too tired to try to fight back against the bullies.

Well, not that I would win, anyway.

I made it to my homeroom on time, which just happened to be math class itself. I exhaled in relief when no one tripped me in the hall. Maybe today wouldn't be that bad.

After finding my seat, I tossed my backpack on the floor and dug out my math book. The room was almost full by now, but my teacher, Mr. Ryker, still waited with obvious impatience. I frowned. I had never liked him, as he was always trying to prove me wrong or get me in some sort of trouble. And it just so happened that his younger brother, Mr. Viggo Grimborn was the principal of the whole school. That meant if I got in trouble in math class, I'd get in trouble with the principal too.

Mr. Ryker gave the clock an annoyed glare, like he wanted it to speed up. There was still one more minute before the bell rang, and he wasn't happy that he still had to wait. Finally, the steady stream of students died down, which meant everyone had taken a seat. The room was full- except, there was still one place empty.

I felt myself blushing when I realized just whose desk it was. It was hers.

"Sorry I'm late, Mr. Grimborn," I heard her say as she entered the classroom. "My dog, Stormfly, got sick last night, and my mom had to take her to the vet before dropping me off here."

My head turned in her direction, and I could feel my bright green eyes widen with awe. Astrid Hofferson was standing right there. I tried to seem relaxed, but that was impossible. Astrid is right there. Ten feet away from me. Living. Breathing. Being her beautiful self…

Mr. Ryker snapped me out of my trance with a sharp comeback to Astrid. "See that it does not happen again, Amanda."

"Astrid," Astrid corrected, shifting her backpack on her shoulder.

My math teacher rolled his eyes. "In my class, we go by our birth names. We don't go by nicknames of such."

"But what about Hiccup?" Astrid pointed out. "He has a nickname."

I froze. Astrid had said my name. She knew I existed… that I was in the same room as her…that I was someone worthy enough to know the name of... heat rushed to my cheeks. "Um, actually, it's not a nickname," I said, surprising Astrid by speaking. I doubted she'd ever even heard me talk before. "I was given the name Hiccup at birth."

Astrid blinked, studying me. I was acutely aware of her dazzling blue eyes piercing into my soul. "Really?"

All I could do was nod. She was talking to me.

"Please take a seat, Ms. Hofferson," Mr. Ryker quipped, shutting the door. "We're already late enough as it is."

Astrid nodded. "Of course, sir." She made her way through the sea of desks until she reached her own, which was on the other side of the room. I tried to make eye contact in case she wanted to acknowledge me, but she was too busy getting out her books to notice. Besides, Snotlout was in the way- and that was when he noticed I was sitting right next to him.

Snotlout glared over at me, his fists tightening on his math book. Just the way his sneer was twisted made me shiver. "You don't stand a chance with Astrid, Hiccup," he hissed, keeping his eyes on Mr. Ryker in case he would be called out. "Face it, Useless. No one likes you. And certainly not Astrid."

Oh? And she'd prefer you more? I wanted to say back, but I held my tongue. Arguing with Snotlout would only get me a sure black eye later on, and I didn't wish for that. Still, the words hurt, so I forced myself to drop my gaze and stare down at my desk, silent. I heard Snotlout snicker in triumph from beside me; my heart sunk. Yet another battle lost...

Sighing, I looked up at Mr. Ryker, not at all eager to learn the things I already knew.

As I said before, life sucked.

But it wouldn't be until later on I would realize just how much.

------

Total of 5 chapters so far... please fave, follow, and review if you can! :D I’m aiming for 80 follows by chapter 6. Have a great day! :)

#thepurplewriter333 #fanfictionhttyd #fanfiction #httydfanfictionthepurplewriter333 #httydfanfiction #howtotrainyourdragonfanfiction #more than i seem #more than i seem by thepurplewriter333 #httyd #howtotrainyourdragon

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txemrn · 4 years ago

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A little TRR/TRH action... a little TNA/QB Thanksgiving...

Whatcha' got cookin' this week, ladies? @sarahx206 @lem-20 @anjanettexcordonia @ao719 @shannonsaid @lucy-268 @lifeaskim @pixie88 @bebepac @texaskitten30 and whoever else wants to share! Let’s see ‘em! ❤

Title: TBD, TRR/TRH One-shot (I almost--ALMOST--feel guilty posting this because things aren’t always what they seem; a little 🍋-y)

A sudden waft of jasmine and amber teases through the air. Her two slender arms endearingly blanket over his shoulders as she nuzzles into the light stubble of his cheek. Her petal pink pout hovers over his skin, the inviting heat of her breath igniting his senses.

He relaxes into her, her teeth grazing the delicate skin of his neck before nibbling on his ear. Liam's fingers entangle with her lustrous raven waves, his eyes lolling with the stroke of her tongue.

"My Queen," He softly moans under his breath.

Riley fervently traces her mouth across his strong jawline before resting on his hungry supple lips, taunting them open with her wet, plump pout.

As he reaches around to claim what is his, she playfully retreats from his grasp. He jests with an exasperated sigh as his crystal blue eyes smolder with desire. She giggles seductively, biting her coy smile as she drapes her body between his lap and the desk.

She dons a sheer black robe with hand-stitched Chantilly lace applique that barely covers her hardened pink nipples to her blossoming breasts. But, his favorite part of this negligee is what she cannot keep hidden; rather it boasts a part of her that is very much a part of him, the result of their love as husband and wife while also furthering the stability and power of the crown: her fully-extended expectant belly.

"Riley, my love," he whispers cupping his hands gingerly on her soft rosy cheeks as he presses his lips to hers. His hands find their way to the curves of her bare ass as he hungers for more with his wandering tongue.

Riley rakes her fingers through his blond curls, exhaling soft moans with each caress of his hands. Her tongue glides rhythmically with his as her other hand wanders to the growing girth in his slacks.

**********

Always...Forever... TNA/QB mini Thanksgiving series (working title, based off of my TNA series ‘Once...Always...’)

"I'm so glad we're doing this."

Exhaling a slow breath of satisfaction, Brynn Schuyler-Dalton lounges back onto her plush gray sectional. Crawling into his strong arms, she rests her head on his shoulder, her hand casually caressing on his broad chest.

"Me too." His voice is husky, but endearingly melodic as he tightens his grip around her shoulders. He grabs the remote controller. "Ready?"

"Mhmm," she nuzzles deeper into his embrace, pulling a chenille afghan over their intertwined legs. "Wick me."

He chuckles, raising an eyebrow at her as their gazes meet. "Do you have to refer to watching John Wick as being 'wick'-ed?"

She offers a goofy smile, nodding her head eagerly.

"Oh really?" He jests, removing his arm from around her. Brynn's eyes brighten wildly with curiosity as he faces her, biting his lip.

"Are you sure about that?" He casually lays his weight on top of her body, pressing his nose into her neck. She giggles wildly, naturally draping her arms and legs around his body.

"Are you sure you don't want to change your answer?" She licks her lips, running her fingers through his auburn waves as he gently suckles on her ear.

"Mm-mm," she silently moans into his touch.

But, the hunger in her eyes quickly drains into terror as he purposefully reaches down, grabbing her ticklish thigh.

"No, sir." She warns. "Don't. You. Dare."

He looks into her eyes. "Don't what?" He gently grips, sending a shock of excitement through her nerves.

"Stop!" She grabs his hand amusingly, pleading with her dark blue eyes.

"Stop what?" He jokes, smiling with a devilish grin on his face. "Oh! You mean this?"

"No-no-no! Don't you--" she suddenly squeals with laughter as he squeezes playfully and furiously around her knee. "Ian!" she screams as she kicks her legs . "I can't!" she gasps for air in between laughs. "Stop it! Please?"

Laughing to himself, he let's go; he gathers her in his arms, straddling her on his lap.

"I hate you," she poorly hides a smile, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"That's a shame," he presses his lips to hers, tangling his fingers into her brilliant almond waves. "Because I'm so in love with you." They snicker into another lingering peck together.

The soft candlelight dazzles the gold flecks in his smoldering hazel eyes as they pierce with desire into hers. His humble smile elicits a comfort, giving her a firm sense of security; his accompanying dimples blankets her with unspeakable joy, teaching her to laugh again. She yearns for the soft padding of his fingertips across her delicate skin, a touch that makes her feel treasured, makes her feel wanted. Again.

It's been over two years since Brynn found her husband, Sam Dalton, having an affair with their daughter's nanny...

... and then she met him.

**********

FYI To my sweet friends who follow my series “Boughs & Mockingbirds” and/or “Caroline”: they are in the works as well, but they are very draft-y/concept map-y. AKA Not share-able at this point. lol

***********

#wip wednesday #wip #the royal heir #the nanny affair #queen b

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hayffiebird · 7 years ago

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Taste of Strawberries, Chap. 9 (part one)

Hayffie Post-Mockingjay Multi-chapter, Rated M Chapter 9 A rain of tears

Part one “It’s so fucking cold here we should ask for a raise.” Clydas sucked greedily on his cigarette. What was left of it. He blew out some smoke and looked at the ramshackle houses around them. “Place is dead. Nothing ever happens.” They were supposed to patrol but the icy night air kept them by the burn barrel. The helmets lay tossed at their feet and the fire danced over their young faces.

“We should have us a girl,” Titan grinned, revealing his two front teeth that overlapped. His parents had named him Titan but he didn’t live up to it. He was scrawny, rat like with a head that seemed undersized, poking up from the peacekeeper’s uniform. “That’d be nice wouldn’t it? A girl. Hehe, we could have us two girls! So we wouldn't have to wait in line!” “Yeah, keep dreamin’.” “What? Cray does it. I've seen them coming to his door!” “Cray’s second in command! Shit, you really wanna dip your wick and see what you catch?” He stamped his boots against the ground to try and get some life back in to his toes.

Titan rubbed his nose surly. “Well, sorry I like it better when girls keep it warm for me,” he said, even though Clydas knew and everyone in their squad knew the only thing keeping Titan's genitals warm was his own right hand. “I have to pee,” he muttered. Clydas flung the butt of his cigarette into the flames while Titan left the fire for the backside of a nearby house. The iron maiden and all her peacekeepers got to feast on whole roasted pigs and goats and wild boars with dark ale to wash it down with. And here they were, freezing their nuts off. Who knew when this stupid district would win again? If ever. By Spring they’d be back to the same old food packages shipped in from District 10 and 11, weighed and counted to the last grain of rice. You’d think the Capitol would be more generous to the ones who protected their country. “Pointless,” he muttered. “Pointless.” A cry pierced the stillness and it was so sharp and unexpected Clydas jumped. “What the hell?” “No! No!!” He fumbled to get his flashlight out, both alarmed and eager that something finally happened. “Hello?” He aimed the torch beam in the direction of the sound. “Anybody there?” “Clydas!” He whipped around just in time to see Titan stumble back into the light. “I got one, Clydas! I got one!” The ends of his belt clinked and dangled as he dragged with him a dark-haired woman. “She's out after the bell, Clydas! It’d be her own fault, right? We can do what we want with her!” “You’re insane.” Clydas couldn’t help but grin. “We have to report her.” “Oh, come on!” Clydas crossed his arms over his chest, taking a proper look at the girl. There was something familiar about her but he couldn’t remember where he’d seen her before. Probably a reaping. How old could she be? 18? Her lip were busted, red and swollen. “Someone’s already been at her, it looks to me”, he said. “Someone punched you, little darling?” “Didn’t you hear the bell?” Titan shook her and her pony tail down her back flipped back and forth. She stared at nothing, her face a mask. Just stood there and let it happen. The two boys grinned at each other. Had they been smarter maybe they’d noticed that behind it there was something else, smoldering. “If you gotta have one you could at least have picked someone pretty,” Clydas said. “This one’s all bones. Go hair like a horse tail.” “She’s warm,” Titan cackled. Still gloveless on one hand from earlier he dug his dirty fingernails into her cheeks. “Let’s have a feel, eh?” Faster than a fox trap snapping shut, the girl jammed her teeth into his hand. Titan howled, jumping up and down. The girl dashed for freedom. Clydas caught her in the flight and almost snapped her skinny arms off when he locked them behind her back. “She bit me! She bit me!” “What's all this noise?” They turned as another peacekeeper appeared. The visor on his helmet was pulled back, a pair off well-known mud-brown eyes looking between the two of them. “She tried to get away, Peacekeeper Cray sir,” Clydas said, his mouth agape. “We caught her, sir.” “She bit me!”

Blood colored the ground at Titan’s feet. In a heartbeat Cray’s baton was in his hand and at her face. “You try something like that again, girl and you’ll end up with no teeth left”, he said. “Who are you? What’s your name?” The girl didn’t say a word. The only sound to be heard was the crackling fire and Titan’s sobs. He cradled his hand and snot dripped from his nose. Cray gave him a look of utter disgust. He tore the hand cuffs from Titan’s belt. “Quit the weeping!” he said and shoved them into his hands. “Do something right for a change and throw her in one of the hunger cells.” Neither Titan nor Clydas lay another hand on the girl. All they wanted was to be rid of her. That was clear to anyone peering through the shutters when they took Helena away. Of course Titan and Clydas didn’t know that was her name. They wouldn’t know for many years. Without a word they brought her to the Justice building. The monstrous structure which towered higher than any other. The frozen ground crunched under their boots as they pulled her to the door on the backside. Clydas had to put his heels in to make it open on creaking and wailing hinges. Inside was only darkness. Like looking into a passage to hell. Clydas turned on a switch, revealing the steps that took you to the dungeons. The further down they went, the colder it got. Broken spider webs hung from the one working bulb by the bottom of the steps, illuminating the rows of cells. Helena stumbled over a metal grate when they pushed her inside. The cell was completely bare. No bed, no toilet, not even a window. Clydas locked, uncuffed her through the iron bars and Titan slammed his baton against the metal, cursing at her now that he was safely on the other side. “Lets go,” Clydas muttered and they disappeared up the steps. They switched off the light with a bang, leaving her in a cold, complete, paralyzing darkness. Her teeth clattered. She lowered herself onto the ground, using her hands as guidance. She felt the metal grate and scooted away from it. She waited for her eyes to adjust. To make out forms and shapes. There was nothing. With slow movements she tied her loosened hair back in its usual ponytail and clasped her arms around her knees. Did they get away? Did they get home safely? Not ten minutes passed before someone turned the key again and the dungeons bathed in light. She knew who it was before she saw him. Peacekeeper Cray had taken off his helmet. The naked lightbulb flickered over his features when he came down to her. He was in his mid-thirties but his hairline was already receding. With a completely round face, ruddy cheeks and constantly wet lips he looked like a large overgrown baby. “Be glad it’s me, girl,” he said. “If the Head Peacekeeper knew you bit the idiot she’d have you whipped in the square. Or put you in the iron maiden. You know she enjoys that.” He wet his already wet lips and rested his gloved hand against the iron bars, tapping something against it. “It’s cold down here even in mid-summer”, he said. “We don’t get to use these cells often enough. Sometimes we forget we have someone down here. Until a few weeks later when we have to collect the body. What the rats left behind anyway.” He clanked his fingers against the metal once more. Helena realized it was a coin. “You don’t have to be here,” he said. “I’m generous, girl. Just say the words and I’ll let you out. I could use someone to warm my bed tonight.” Helena looked away, her face like cut in stone. “Or maybe,” he said, “I’ll just come in and take one for free.” He paused, as if to let the reality of his threat sink in. Then his lips curved into a smile. “But why all the trouble?” He put the coin back in his pocket. “You stay here and enjoy yourself. I’ve got plenty of takers.” Helena stared up at him, right into his mud-brown eyes and all at once it wasn’t Cray she saw. It was Sophie. “Can you hear them, Helena?” her voice whispered in her memory. “Do you hear them? Do you hear the stars?” “If you change your mind, you know where I live,” Cray said. “If you get out.” Rot in hell. She wished it so badly it was strange he didn’t hear her. Cray disappeared and darkness consumed her once more. Rot in hell. xXx The 12 hour shift was finally over. Dom relished those first breaths of clear night air when he and all the other coal miners walked out the big doors. Glenn was by his side like he had for the past four years. Ever since they turned 18 they’d walked these black cinder streets together. They were all like a trail of black ghosts and light spilled out on the snow covered ground around the Seam as people dissapeared inside to their waiting families or their waiting beds. On a normal day they’d talk but tonight Dom’s thoughts were elsewhere. “See ya tomorrow,” Glenn said once they’d reached his house. Dom was exhausted. He barely even manage a nod goodnight to his old friend and his wife when she appeared in the doorway. “Dom,” she said, before he’d go on. “Helena’s back.” When they got news of Helena’s imprisonment he’d wanted to go talk with the Head Peacekeeper and Cray and the others and he wasn’t the only one. But Harold said no. There was nothing they could do but wait and see. If they tried anything it would only make it worse for her. The lights were on in Helena’s house, he saw from afar but he’d come almost all the way up to her door before he heard voices. ”It’s none of our business,” Harold said. “You should never have gone up there!” Helena answered back. Words he couldn’t make out. ”Because it’s already too late!” her father said. “You’ll stay away from them, Helena!” “Pa, please just…” but she cut herself off mid-sentence when she saw Dom through the window. Harold gave him a hard stare and disappeared out of sight. The next moment she appeared at the door. “Hey,” he said. “Hi.” She kept her hand on the handle to keep the wind from slamming the door shut. And, maybe, to keep him outside. “I just wanted to see how you were,” Dom said. “Ask if there’s anything I can do.” “I can’t really talk right now,” Helena said. He watched her bruised lip with concern. “Please, just... just go.” “Will I see you on Sunday?” “I don’t know. Please, Dom.” She tried to close the door and he took a step back. “I’m sorry, Helena,” he said. “I’m so sorry.” Two days passed. The snow began to stick, for the first time that year. In less than a week it would have buried the whole district. The wind rattled the trees around the Meadow. It had been their favourite meeting place ever since he started courting her. Somewhere where they could be alone.

Of course, he didn’t know if she’d come at all today but he didn’t mind waiting if it meant he could see her again, if only for a moment. He crossed his arms over his chest, warming his hands in his armpits. He was a large man. Broad-shouldered. With his sharp jawline and swelling arms he could have come off scary or intimidating if it wasn’t for his eyes. They betrayed his gentle soul. “You sure you weren’t switched at birth?” Glenn often joked about his light hair and his eyes that were more bluer than they were gray, “Handsome bastard.” “My grandma was merchant, bright head,” Dom answered back and they both laughed. An hour passed. A light snow began to fall and he’d just accepted that she wouldn’t come, when he saw her. Helena always looked like an old person when she walked. A hard life had lined her face even though she was still young. Thin and bird-like she came towards him, wrapped in her old, gray shawl. Her dark hair and olive skin stood out against all the white. She didn’t believe him when he said she was beautiful so he didn’t say it but it didn’t make it any less true. They sat back against their old, frozen log. He pulled off his jacket. It was so threadbare it didn’t make much difference but he put it around her shoulders. He saw she had a package with her, wrapped in used brown paper. “This is for you,” she said. “I finished them last night.” It was the pair of mittens she’d once promised him. They perfectly matched his eyes. Dom smiled and put them on. Thick and warm and functional. Like those mittens she sold on market days along with socks and underclothes and other garments. That’s where he first started to really notice her. When she wouldn’t cave to the will of a peacekeeper when he tried to beat down the price of a pair of fur lined long underwear pants. “Thank you,” he said. And that’s when he saw there was something else in her hands. His mother’s old wedding band. The ring he gave her when he proposed. He looked up at her. “Did Harold...,” he began. The old man had given them his blessing but if he’d changed his mind this could very well be the last he ever saw of her. Her father’s opinion meant a great deal to her. But Helena shook her head. She looked so tired and down-hearted. “I care about you, Dom. More than you know, even if maybe it doesn’t always seem like it, but...” “Is it because of Sophie?” Like everybody else in Twelve he’d heard rumors of that night. Her silence was enough for him to know he was right. “What if we have children,” she said. “What if it's your son or daughter’s name they'll call out at the reaping?” “It won’t be,” said Dom with a heat behind it that she seldom heard in his voice. “I won’t allow it. Not if I’ll so have to work myself to death in the mines.” Helena didn’t respond. She was no fool and neither was he. They both knew that at the end of the day it was out of their control. Dom hesitated and then he said, “We don’t have to have any. If that’s what you want. It could be just us. I know I don’t have much to offer. But I would love you. I’d never do anything to hurt you. We could build a home together.” xXx And they were married. On the first warm Spring day they all gathered at Helena’s for a quiet dinner before they walked across the Seam to Dom’s house where she would now live, as Mrs. Abernathy. Pa placed a scratchy kiss on her cheek. The first time he’d ever done so. He was a short man, Harold, especially next to his daughter. Thin as a hung up suit with white hair and wearing the same clothes Helena’s mother had once made for their wedding day. He’ll be all alone now. The thought pinched her heart. He’d still live in their old house where she grew up but she wouldn’t be there anymore to take care of him. “You’re a good girl”, he muttered. “You’ll do fine.” “Thank you, pa,” Helena mumbled. She took her husband’s hand and as the others sang District 12’s wedding song she stepped over the threshold to her new home. Dom had promised he'd never hurt her but it hurt when he put it in her. She knew what men looked like between their legs but this was something different. And when she watched it, in tangles of dark curly hair, she couldn’t see how it would even fit inside her. It hurt. But pain wasn't something Helena was unfamiliar with and there was something else there too. A tenderness she did not expect. Dom was all muscles. He was lean and hard and golden in the light from their first fire. He looked like he could crush you like a bug but his kisses were soft and tender. “I wish I could stay here with you,” he said the following morning when he had to be back in the mine, newly-wed or not. Glenn and some other crew mates already waited outside. Dom pulled on his mittens and kissed her. “I'll see you tonight,” he said before he left. She heard their voices disappear down the path. Against her will she pictured Dom, packed tightly together with the other coal miners as the elevator creaked deeper and deeper into the earth. And they wouldn’t be released from the mine until their daily coal quota had been achieved. “The Abernathys are made out of strong stuff,” her father used to say. People loved to share tales about them. They were poor but everyone respected them. And they’d mined coal for generations.

“Only thing I know I'm good at,” Dom said. He always joked about his job. Perhaps he had to, to be able to stand going there every day. “I couldn't sew in a button to save my life.” Ma had been an amazing seamstress. When other children Helena’s age were out playing on the Meadow or by the school Violet taught her young daughter how to sew. It wasn’t always easy for a small child but if she whined her mother always said the same thing, “You’ll learn it now, so you never have to work in the ground.” She’d always be grateful to her for that. Most of her mother’s clients had been merchants, people who could afford textiles and have their clothes sewn from scratch, and after she died Helena inherited some of those families when she got older. People in the Seam had to make do with what they had. When your childen outgrew their clothes it was handed over to a younger sibling. Kids running around in their father’s old shirts were a more common sight than not. If something broke you mended it but still, when the need for new garments was unavoidable Helena was mostly the one they went to. Dom’s house, “Our house,” she had to remind herself, didn’t look much different from the one where she's lived all her days. Especially now when ma’s old loom stood in the corner. It was the same creaking floors. The same thin walls where cold air seeped in through the cracks. The wooden sofa bed that pa had made them for a wedding gift had also been carried into the kitchen along with the rest of her few possessions. In the weeks that followed she made rag rugs with the help of ma’s loom. She scrubbed the floors, cleaned the windows, washed the cabinets until they shone. She washed some old pots and when summer came she grew new potted plants with the flowers Dom dug up for her. When he got home in the evening after those endless shifts, black with coal dust, Helena washed the long hours from him, relaxed the aching muscles in his body. His lips tasted of soot when they kissed. They grew closer together and within their four walls existed peace and happiness. As much peace and happiness you could find in a place like Twelve. When her period was late she thought nothing of it. Not at first. She’d accepted the risk when she married Dom but her period had always been irregular. Secretly, when the first year came to a close, she’d thought, hoped maybe, that she wasn’t able to have children. Dom wanted the baby. Even though he shared the same fears and worries a she did, as every parent in the districts did, he wanted a family. Had probably always wanted one. So when he gathered her close in bed and touched her belly she didn’t pull away. But long after he’d fallen asleep Helena lay awake, wondering if she’d even make a good mother at all. And when she closed her eyes all she saw was Sophie. Her small form under the blanket. Her eyes like black pools as she fought the sleep syrup. And how she’d gasped, like a fish out of water. “Don’t let them take me, nana. Don’t let the bad men take me!”

Sophie, who died anyway. When her water broke Dom wasn’t home. And even if he’d known there was no way for him to get to her before his shift ended.

She thought the pain would kill her. Rip her open and it would be the end of it. Old Mrs. Hawthorne later told her she heard her, on her way into town.

Sae was with her. She always came when the women in the Seam gave birth. She saw her through the hours and when the sun set she pulled the baby from her body.

Someone must have told Dom what was going on. He barged into the house just as Sae wrapped the baby in a blanket. Out of breath from running half across the district and with eyes so white in his black face he stood next to Helena when Sae placed the little boy in her arms.

It was the first time Helena saw him cry. It was strange. This new little person in their lives. So small and wilful with pink, round cheeks and tiny hands that would tear out a fistful of your hair if you didn’t watch out. He was always hungry and he kicked and screamed angrily if he didn’t immediately get what he wanted. When she put him to her chest he latched on with such intensity you'd think he was afraid someone would take it away from him. But after a while he always came to a rest and looked up at Helena with his round, gray eyes, at peace with his world. Yes, they were Seam gray but in every other respect he looked just like Dom. He had his nose, his chin, the same smile, the same disarray of dirty blonde hair. They named him Haymitch. to be continued… Author’s note: I know Taste of Strawberries hasn’t been updated in a crazy long time. Sorry about that. I’ve had a crippling writer’s block. This chapter has by far been the hardest for me. I chose to split it in parts both because it’s so damn long and so you’ll know that the story isn’t abandoned even if it may have seemed like it. The wait for part two won’t be as long.

#hayffie #effie trinket #haymitch abernathy #haymitch's childhood #taste of strawberries fanfic #chapter 9 #part one #hunger games #postmockingjay #multi chapter #fanfiction #ellie's writing

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