#stab him in the eye 13 times

[mabel-angelo]

Bill is plotting something with Calypso and Ford! I think he’s gonna ruin their date. Be careful

what?

no. ohhh no no no no and NO. that freaky cheese face CANNOT do anything! he cant. like, literally! cant! i mean, he can CRY ABOUT IT like some jealous cingy ex, but thats it. and his misery brings me joy! juuust like ill enjoy having reason to MESS UP HIS ENTIRE MONTH if he tries ANYTHING cuz he is NOT! ALLOWED! TO! RUIN! THIS! CUTENESS!!!

[duckysprouts]

can i have teenage dirtbag dick grayson hcs pls?? my parents are getting divorced i want to relate to him

in high school, dick was… interesting

1. he went to a prestigious private school with uniforms and never wore it properly. sometimes he would wear his gymnastics jacket over the summer dress shirt to hide the bruises and bandages that would peek through when he sweats. other times he would lie and say it was a sports accident

2. always red eyes. could have been weed, insomnia, or his daily breakdown in the bathroom

3. literally never shows up on time and comes up with increasingly wild excuses for why. still the top of the class

4. dyed his hair and wore jewellery even tho it was against code. they still let him keep it cause he was captain of the mathletes team and they couldn’t afford to lose him to win nationals

5. carries a pot and portable stove in his bag so he can make hangover ramen in class

6. hands always had bandages and sports tape

7. they made him get rid of his sneakers and wear dress shoes, so he started wearing weird socks instead. the worst was when he wore the grippy socks he stole from the mental health center

8. would pick up jason from book club and scare the shit out of everyone

9. got into fights a LOT. bruce sent a lot of gift baskets to the rich parents of the kids. but he secretly thought dick was in the right so all the gifts consisted of things he knew the family hated or were allergic to

10. regulated inconsistently between “energetic popular guy who is witty and fun to be around” and “dead inside” many times throughout the day

11. once borrowed a wax pen thinking it was a vape and was SO high for a geology exam that he resorted to licking the rock samples to identify them. he got a 98% on it, 2% off for spelling his name wrong

12. once stabbed himself with an epipen to stay awake long enough to study, nearly pissed himself

13. set the back of his hair on fire during patrol in sophomore year and had a reverse mullet for a few months (see picture)

[persevereforahappyending]

No Man's Land |3|

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Sam can’t help but be drawn to the cute stranger from her gym, even if everything about them makes them the perfect suspect, just when Ghostface has returned.

Warnings: Fighting, Stabbing, Attempted Murder

Word Count: 2.6k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

Sam tossed and turned in her bed. She had been trying to fall asleep since she got back from her therapy session. She sat up in her bed, running a hand through her hair. She glanced out the window, watching the raindrops slide down the glass. A light rain had started right after she got home, it just now seemed to be stopping a couple hours later.

She slid out of bed, stretching her arms and legs. She walked over to the window and checked that it was locked, even though she had done so before she got into bed, just like she did every night. She pushed off the windowsill and made her way out of her room. She didn’t hear any talking or the TV playing, which told her everyone else had finally gone to sleep.

She passed Tara’s room first, making sure to stop and check on her sister. She gently opened the door, making sure to go slow enough that it wouldn’t creak. Tara always rolled her eyes when she caught Sam checking in on her, but unless they were in the middle of arguing Tara didn’t seem to say anything about it, Sam thought Tara might have actually appreciated this part of her overprotectiveness. When Sam peeked her head around the door, she saw Tara sprawled out on her bed, peacefully sleeping, one of her arms was half hanging off the bed. Sam couldn’t help but smile at the sight, she was glad her sister could still sleep even with the potential of Ghostface out there again.

Sam gently closed the door as she stepped back into the hall. She hated the door being closed but it was the one thing she compromised on with Tara. She knew if she made Tara keep her door open all the time, she would be crossing the line, and her paranoia would truly be taking over their lives.

As she crossed through the kitchen she peeked her head into the living room. Chad was clutching half his blanket tight against his chest as he was reclined back in the recliner. He occasionally shifted, adjusting himself in the chair and gripping the blanket tighter. Sam shook her head at the sight, somethings never changed, Chad used to do the exact same thing when Sam would babysit him, and he’d pass out on the couch or chair while everyone watched a movie.

Sam silently chuckled at the sight of Mindy and Anika sprawled out on the couch. Anika was cuddled into Mindy’s side, her arms wrapped around Mindy’s waist. Mindy had her right arm wrapped around Anika, holding her close, while her other arm was stretched across the couch, hanging off the side, and her head was thrown back, her mouth half opened as she not so quietly snored.

Sam moved back into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator only to see it bare. It had been a second since they had done any grocery shopping and with the twins constantly coming over, they were running out of food much quicker than they’d normally would. She let the door gently close and when she was glancing around the kitchen her eyes landed on the pizza box still sitting on the dining table. She shrugged and flipped open the lid, seeing exactly one slice left. She quietly laughed to herself, it was better than she was expecting if she was being honest, with Chad around there was hardly ever leftovers. She grabbed the slice and took a bite, enjoying the taste of cold pizza.

Once she finished her pizza she paced back and forth a bit, trying to calm her mind. She hadn’t stopped thinking about Ghostface possibly being out there, about what detective Bailey said about the two students that were killed. If they were planning on trying to kill her and Tara but they died instead, that meant someone really wanted to kill them their self. Sam wasn’t sure who she could have possible pissed off enough to want to murder her. Then she remembered she didn’t have to do anything, her existence was enough to make her ex want to pretend to fall in love with her and then try and kill her, all because her dad was Billy Loomis.

Sam ran a hand through her hair, she tried to shake off the excess energy she had from all the anxiety. “Fuck it,” she whispered. She didn’t think as she grabbed her gym bag and filled her water bottle.

She made sure to scribble a note in case Tara or any of the others woke up. She did a quick once over of the apartment before walking out the door, her gym back slung over her shoulder. She triple checked the locks before she made her way down the stairs. She knew it was stupid to go off on her own, in the middle of the night no less, but there was only one thing that she knew for sure calmed her. Working out in the middle of the night always seemed to help her de-stress more than anything. She kept telling herself she would only be gone an hour as she began the walk to the gym.

Sam looked both ways as she crossed the parking lot, it was three in the morning and there was no one in sight. Sam still couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, she wanted to right it off as her paranoia getting to her, but she couldn’t help but wonder if Ghostface was truly back. She kept replaying checking on Tara and the twins and locking the apartment in her mind. They were all together, they were all safe, she locked the door, she triple checked that it was locked, but she wasn’t there. If anything happened, she wasn’t there.

She knew she shouldn’t have left them home alone, especially not with Ghostface most likely back but she needed to calm her nerves. She couldn’t stand being in that apartment and not moving. She just kept telling herself that Ghostface usually has a plan and Sam highly doubted that plan involved attacking everyone at the apartment when Sam wasn’t there, that didn’t seem like Ghostface.

Sam swiped her card and waited to hear the little buzz before flinging the door open. As soon as she stepped into the entryway the lights started to kick on. Sam wasn’t sure if they were emergency lights or what but after regular gym hours only a few lights turned on and it was always when the person was in that area of the gym.

Sam looked around the room, besides where she was standing the only lights that were on were the ones that were always on around the perimeter of the room. Even though she didn’t see any cars in the parking lot she knew that didn’t necessarily mean the gym would be empty. She didn’t see any sign of life though. Even though being in an empty gym alone always put her on edge, she was happy for the alone time. She was sure if anyone else was in the gym at the moment she wouldn’t be able to take her eyes off them, assuming they were there to stalk and kill her.

Sam sighed as she walked over to the treadmills. She dropped her bag on the bench next to the treadmill and took out her water bottle. She plopped her water bottle into the cupholder on the machine and began changing the settings. She started slowly walking as the machine got going, popping her earbuds in before it got too fast. Just like before she started off with a light jog, she just needed to work out for an hour or so, exhaust herself enough so she could fall asleep.

She had just started to relax and lose herself in a song when she caught movement of a black cloak out of the side of her eyes. Sam jumped to the side, balancing herself on the right side of the treadmill just as a knife slashed against the controls of the machine. Sam’s eyes went wide as she stepped back off the machine, Ghostface stood before her, tilting his head back and forth as he held the knife at his side.

“Fuck,” she whispered. She knew this was a bad idea, she should have never left the apartment, she knew better than to go off on her own. Ghostface being here at least meant Tara and the others were most likely safe.

Sam walked backwards, weaving her way between the other workout machines. Her eyes never left Ghostface as she slowly followed, getting ever so close with each step. She knew it was only a matter of time before Ghostface ran at her, luckily the one thing she had on Ghostface was that she knew the gym like the back of her hand. Sometimes being paranoid paid off, she scoped out the layout of the gym, memorizing where everything was and where all the exits were the first day she ever stepped foot in the building.

Ghostface suddenly stopped in their tracks making Sam suck in a breath. She could practically see the smile behind the mask. She didn’t need to turn around to know exactly what was behind her. The far-right wall was all brick, lined with weights, the only places for Sam to go was either rush Ghostface and dodge his knife or take her chances by running to the right because on her left was more gym equipment and the windows to the front of the gym.

Sam continued to back up until her back bumped against the weight rack. She steeled her expression. Ghostface slowly stomped forward, his movements calculated but clearly not thinking she was a threat. Sam stared straight into the dark abyss that was the eyes of the mask, her hand felt around behind her until she finally gripped the handle of one of the weights.

As soon as Ghostface raised his knife Sam tightened her grip on the weight and swung it around with all her might. The weight smashed against Ghostface’s hand, sending the knife clattering to the floor. She didn’t hesitate to take off to the right, not bothering to go for the knife. She just needed to get away and get back to Tara.

Sam ran through the gym, the lights clicking on behind her as she passed under them, running too fast for most of them to catch up to her. She jumped over one of the benches but didn’t slow down. She slid when she made a sharp left turn, aiming for the front door.

Ghostface slid in front of her right, making her come to a hard stop before she crashed into him. He didn’t hesitate this time to slash his knife at her, making her lean back, watching as the blade just barely missed her.

Ghostface stalked forward, slashing his knife and making Sam back up once again. She clenched her jaw and glared at the mask figure; he was blocking the front door. She glanced to her left, seeing the glow of the red exit sign in the far corner. She had never gone out that way before, if the door opened it set off an alarm, but she knew it spilled out into an alley. She didn’t really want to end up in a dark alley in New York with Ghostface chasing her, but it seemed to be her best bet.

Sam made a dash for the door, but Ghostface jumped over one of the benches putting himself between her and the door again. She raised her arm when he swung his knife, slashing her forearm this time. Ghostface moved to slash her again, but she stepped back, tripping over a weight someone had left out.

She brought her other hand to her arm, trying to stop the bleeding as best as she could. She backed up until she hit the bench behind her. She could only watch as Ghostface stood tall above her. There was another flash of movement out of the corner of her eye, and something slammed into Ghostface, sending them stumbling back.

Sam couldn’t help the way her mouth fell open at seeing you standing tall, you were the only thing between Sam and Ghostface. Sam could only look up at you, you had seemingly come out of nowhere. She caught the light from the showers out of the corner of her eye, that must have been where you had come from, you had to have been at the gym before Sam ever got there.

You stepped forward, tilting your head as you looked at Ghostface. Your back was to her, but Sam couldn’t see any fear in the way you carried yourself. Ghostface stumbled backwards as you continued forward. Sam had never seen Ghostface intimidated by someone without any weapon.

Ghostface finally seemed to figure themselves out as they gripped the knife tighter and began slashing wildly at you. You leaned from side to side, effortlessly dodging each slash as if you had all the time in the world. You just kept moving forward, forcing Ghostface to walk back, getting further and further away from Sam.

Ghostface stabbed the knife at your right side, making you jump to the left to dodge it. He then stabbed at your other side, but you grabbed the punching bag and blocked the knife. As soon as Ghostface ripped the knife out of the punching bag sand began spilling out of it. You didn’t wait to shove the punching bag, making it smack right into Ghostface’s chest.

Ghostface nearly lost their footing, Sam was surprised the hit hadn’t sent them to the ground. They brought their free hand to their chest, definitely having the wind knocked out of them, they’d surely have a major bruise in the morning. Ghostface tried to shake off the hit though and swung his knife again.

You caught his wrist midair, giving it a hard twist, making him lose grip of the knife. You reached out with your other hand, catching the knife before it could hit the floor then released your attacker’s wrist. You spun the handle around in your hand before you began swinging it at Ghostface.

Each slash of the knife held power, each slash with the intent to kill. You didn’t hesitate to swing the knife; it was as if you had done this before. Sam was sure you could quickly close the distance and end Ghostface, but you were almost playing with him. Ghostface continued to scramble back until the back of their foot caught a mat and sent them to the ground.

You stood above Ghostface, tilting your head as you looked down at them. Sam held her breath as she waited to see what your next move would be. You flipped the knife in your hands, you looked quite comfortable with a knife, almost as if holding it were natural.

You raised the knife but before you could bring it down onto Ghostface another one came out of the shadows, stabbing you in the side. You collapsed to your knees, but you didn’t drop the knife, you swung your arm, slashing the second Ghostface on the leg. The second Ghostface didn’t attack again, they ran forward, helping the first one up and the two rushed out the exit, setting off the alarm.

You finally dropped the knife, falling back to the ground. Sam scrambled to you, pulling out her phone and dialing 911 as she kneeled down by your side. “It’s okay,” she whispered, pressing her hands to your wound. She tried to stop the bleeding as best as she could as she waited for help to arrive. She didn’t understand why you’d help, why you’d risk your safety for her.

Taglist: @thatshyboy1998 @artrizzler19

[arc-misadventures]

A Hero's Rewards?

"Beep... Beep... Beep..."

Jaune recognized that sound.

"Beep... Beep... Beep..."

The monotonous tone of a heart rate monitor.

Well that was a good thing to hear; It meant that, Jaune wasn't dead.

"Beep... Beep... Beep..."

But, it was bad news nonetheless.

"Beep... Beep... Beep..."

Jaune hated that damn beeping sound!

Jaune pushed the nuisance aside... He was alive, and he was awake. Now he needed to get up. He didn't want to stay 'asleep' on this bed, seemingly dead to the world. He wasn't buried yet!

~~~

Jaune opened his eyes, they felt heavy. He licked his fingers as he cleaned the gunk from his eyes. He blinked his eyes before shaking his head, banishing the weariness away.

Jaune looked at his left arm, noticing the, IV in it. Looking upward to see a the IV bag, and the infernal heartrate monitor beeping along. Jaune pressed a button on the side gurney, raising his bed upward from the waist, putting him in a more comfortable, sitting position.

Jaune turned his neck from side to side, letting out a pleasured groan as he heard a series satisfying clicks from his neck, letting the tension in his body fade away.

Jaune turned to the side, and looked at more of the buttons on the panel next to him, and pressed the, 'help' button, and waited.

He looked around his room, as he waited for the doctor, or a nurse, whoever it was that would come. Jaune noticed that he was in a small room; there was no windows, so he expected he was probably kept in the room in the medical wing in, Atlas Academy. To keep him safe no doubt due to his rank as a, Specialists.

The time on the clock read: 13:29 hundred hours. Jaune now knew the time he was, but now the question was: What day was it?

~~~

The door opened, and Jaune saw a man with silver streaks in his hair wearing a white coat, and deep blue scrubs enter the room, and behind him a woman with with warm brown hair in light blue scrubs also came in. The man looked at him, and his rather blank expression opened into a wide smile as he approached him.

: Mr. Arc, my name is, Dr. Dusan, and this here is, Nurse Haizea.

Haizea: Hello, Mr. Arc.

Jaune: Hello.

Dr. Dusan: I must say I am most happy to see that you are awake. We were quite worried you would take a while to wake up because of the poison in your veins. If you had been injected by that scorpion faunas's poison when you were in a more relaxed state of minf, and body, you would have been relatively fine. However, because you're adrenaline was spiked from the fight, the poison managed to circulate through your blood stream faster than we would have liked.

Jaune: Was I in any risk of dying?

Dr. Dusan: No, you weren't in any risk. Luckily, you were brought here to the, Atlas Academy medical wing quite quickly, so we managed to administer you some antivenom rather quickly. Not to mention your impressive aura reserves help heal the puncture wound, and slow down the poison as well.

Jaune: My aura fought off the poison?

Dr. Dusan: To an extent: You're aura managed to slow down the poison, buying you time. But, a persons aura is not capable of curing poisons once they've entered your blood stream.

Jaune: Ahh, that makes sense: Aura is more of a barrier ones applies to ones self after all.

Jaune reached up with his left arm, and scratched the back of his head. This was an action that made him pause, and look at his shoulder.

Jaune: I was stabbed in my left shoulder... shouldn't my arm be in a sling, or something?

Dr. Dusan: Normally yes, but by the time you arrived the wound in you shoulder was already closing because of you aura. Hell, I reckon there's not even a scar on you by now.

Jaune pulled down the neck of his medical gown to look at his shoulder, looking for a puncture wound.

Jaune: I'll be damned... there isn't one...?

Dr. Dusan: The marvelous of, Aura.

Dr. Dusan smiled as he walked over to, Jaune, while, Nurse Hiazea pulled a cart with even more instruments on it.

Dr. Dusan: Now that we have you awake we'd like to run several tests, just to make sure you're doing alright. Any questions?

Jaune: Only two: How long was I out, and when can I get out?

Dr. Dusan laughed as he grabbed a light, and shinned it into his eyes.

Dr. Dusan: Well, you've been out for a day, and a half

Jaune: A day, and a half?! Damn... His poison did a number on me...

Dr. Dursan: Well, that was just your body telling you it needed time to recover. Alright, watch my finger, Mr. Arc.

Jaune kept his eyes on the doctors finger as he ran through several more tests before he made a happy grunt as he walked away from, Jaune.

Dr. Dursan: You're looking quite healthy, Mr. Arc. You should be able to leave sometime tomorrow. We're just going to keep you here overnight just in case. In the meantime... Nurse Haizea?

Haizea: Yes, Doctor?

Dr. Dursan: Can you take a blood sample? I think it's best we make sure to check, and see if all the poison is out of his system.

Haizea: I'll take it to the lab as soon as I take a sample, Doctor.

Dr. Dursan: Thank you. Well then, call us if you need us, Mr. Arc.

Jaune: Will do doctor.

Dr. Dursan waved goodbye as, Nurse Haizea pushed a stool over, and her cart, and sat down putting on some gloves before placing a rubber band around his arm.

Jaune: Uhh... Nurse Haizea?

Haizea: Haizea is just fine.

Jaune: Okay. Haizea, did... did anyone come to see me while I was out?

Haizea: Oh, yes! The entirety of the, Specialist team came to check on you, several times actually.

Jaune: Really?

Haizea: Oh yes! I even saw, General Ironwood come by to check up on you with, Specialist Winter Schnee!

Jaune: Really? W-Was there anyone else...?

Haizea: Mmmm... Oh! I heard, Robyn Hill came by to check up on you as well. That was a surprise.

Jaune: Well that's a surprise... Anyone else?

Haizea: Mmm... Nope. That's everyone.

Jaune: I see...

Haizea was about to break open a needle, but stopped as she heard his disappointed tone.

Haizea: Was there... Was there someone you were hoping to see?

Jaune: ...

Jaune: No... No I wasn't...

~~~

Clover: Jaune! You're awake!

Jaune stopped lookin at his scroll as he saw, Clover, and the rest of the, Specialist's members enter his room.

Jaune: Hi, Clover, hey guys. What brings you here?

Marrow: Here to check out on you, Mr. Hero!

Jaune: Hero? I don't think killing someone, even a monster like, Tyrian makes me a hero.

Elm: True, but he's talking about how you saved, Robyn Hill.

Marrow: Yeah! You came in like a knight in shining armour, and saved the poor damsel in distress!

Jaune just stared at, Marrow as he seemingly swayed side to side with a goofy grin on his face.

Jaune: Is he... Is he drunk?

Elm: A little... We were at the officers club celebrating your victory when we got the call that you were awake.

Jaune: And, how many did he drink?

Vine: One.

Harriet: Man's a total light weight.

Jaune: Evidently.

The group shared a small laugh at, Marrow's poor expense.

Jaune: So... did I miss anything when I blacked out?

Clover: Not much. After we got your emergency call, we rushed to get there, but you already killed, Tyrian. But, you were poisoned so we called for a medevac to get you here. After that, it was nothing, but a simple clean up job.

Vine: We secured the area, and allowed the medical staff to take his body away.

Elm: A few of them got hurt by touching his poison by accident. But, why was his tail a prosthetic?

Jaune: Ahh... I met him in the southern parts of, Mistral a year ago. When he was there, Ruby Rose cut off his tail. Somehow he got a prosthetic tail, we should check in on that. Someone was skilled enough in bio-mechanics to make him a stinger. It's only a question of what else they could do.

Clover: Hmm... Yeah we better take a look into that.

Vine: His scroll is being hacked as we talk. Once that is done, we'll get plenty of information to find out who made it.

Jaune: We can only hope so...

~~~

Ironwood: Ahh, Mr. Arc it's nice to see you doing so well.

Jaune: General?!

Jaune was in the midst of his meal as he pushed his tray on a table to his side, whipping his mouth of any crumps left there. The General walked into his room, pulling a chair next to, Jaune's bed as, Penny pulled up behind him.

Ironwood: At ease, Mr. Arc.

Jaune rested in his gurney as he the general took a seat next to him.

Ironwood: How are you feeling, Mr. Arc?

Jaune: I'm feeling fine, Sir. A little restless honestly.

Ironwood: Ha, I understand that... I always felt restless whenever I was stuck in a hospital too. Now then... About you killing, Tyrian Callows... Tell me what happened.

Jaune had assumed that this wasn't a social call, but that he wanted to hear a report on how, Jaune dealt with, Tyrian Callows.

Jaune: I was on the walls of, Mantle, inspecting how the construction of the fortifications were coming along.

Ironwood: And, how are they coming along?

Jaune: Certain sections of the wall are ahead of schedule, while others are just on schedule. I hypothesize that if we place the ones who finish ahead of schedule on the other sections of the wall, we could be finished the whole wall by at least a week at the earliest. Allowing the, Engineer Corp to resume work on your, Secret Project.

Ironwood: My, 'secret project?'

Jaune gave, Ironwood a confused look as he gave him one in turn. The pair shared a confused look for a moment before a sudden realization dawned on, Jaune's face.

Jaune: Ahh yes... I refer the, CCTS Project as, 'Ironwoods Secret Project,' or anything else that sounds similar to that. I've been doing that so no one knows what we are up to. I've ordered the various, Engineer Corp officers to refer to it as such to keep it a secret.

Ironwood: Ahh... Clever. I should have made a note of that to my other officers myself. Well done, Specialist Arc. Now, please continue.

Jaune: Thank you, Sir. While I was reading a report on progress of section, Gamma 7, I noticed a dip in the work during one day. Apparently, members of, Robyn Hill's supporters came to the wall, and caused a disruption.

Ironwood: What did they do?

Jaune: They just pestered the workers, demanding to know why it took you so long to order the reconstruction of the wall.

Ironwood: Because we were busy with the, CCTS Amity Project.

Jaune: I know that, Sir, and you know that. But, they, everyone else cannot know about it. My run in with, Tyrian Callows was an example enough of why it needs to be kept secret. Who knows what could have happened if, Salem learns of it before it is completed. Sir, we must keep a tight lip about it.

Jaune had started to become suspicious about, General Ironwood's attitude when it came to the, CCTS Amity Project. As he feared, and as he had warned others, General Ironwood had become obsessed about the completion of it. And, Jaune knew he had an itchy trigger finger, and someone needs to take his gun away from him before he started shooting.

Ironwood, stared at, Jaune until he leaned back in his seat as he nodded his head in a reluctant agreement.

Ironwood: You're right, we need to keep a tight lid on this... Continue, Specialist Arc.

Jaune: Yes, Sir. After I learned this, I learned about a rally, Robyn Hill was holding, so I decided to go there, and make sure nothing happened. While I was there I was accosted by, Robyn Hill, and she demanded to know why I was there.

Jaune: I explained that I was there to keep the peace. That I didn't want to hear about another incident like the one that happened at the wall the other day. She was the one who told me why her supporters were there. She also made it evident that it was her supporters that that dispersed the crowd, and sent them home. Besides being put slightly behind schedule because of their delay, no other incident has occurred.

Jaune was telling the truth, is was a bit of a lie since it didn't happen in that order, but it did happen. Ironwood seemingly bought it, as he nodded his head for him to continue.

Jaune: As I said, I decided to stay at her rally to keep a close eye on things to make sure nothing happened. And, while, Robyn was giving her speech, I saw a suspicious individual making there way towards the stage. He had a similar profile of a person I've seen before. So, I made my way to cut them off, and when I got in front of them...

Ironwood: You found, Tyrian Callows.

Jaune: I found, Tyrian Callows. Yes, Sir.

Ironwood: Qrow informed me of your interaction with him in, Mistral. He told me his niece, Ruby Rose cut off his stinger.

Jaune: Part of it yes.

Ironwood: And, someone replaced his stinger with a biomechanical tail... One strong enough to pierce your armour plating... We must look into this; Only a few people in all of, Atlas are capable of building biomechanical limbs... but, to make a scorpions stinger...? This a most disturbing development.

Jaune: I agree whole heartedly, Sir. An investigation must be launched into, Tyrians prosthetic stinger, at once.

Ironwood: And, it will be done. Penny?

Penny: Yes, General Ironwood?

Ironwood: Send a word to the engineer division, and your father. Tell them to start investigating that prosthetic tail, at once.

Penny: At once, Sir!

Penny saluted the, General as she seemed to send a message using her internal components to her father, and Engineer Corp. Jaune didn't like this unknown factor; Atlas was a city of technology, and science, and if Salem had a capable enough individual to make a prosthetic tail for a scorpion faunas, then what else were they capable of?

Jaune: After I intercepted him, we engaged in combat; I was stalling for time so the civilians could escape. Luckily they started running the moment I drew my blade, and tried to kill him. While we were fighting I saw him break away from me, and attack, Robyn Hill.

Ironwood: So, Robyn Hill was his intended target then.

Jaune: It would appear so. While, Tyrian was fighting, Robyn. I noticed his hand was glowing this dark purple, and, Robyn's side was glowing a faint lilac. I realized that it was, Robyn's aura, and Tyrian's semblance was to make holes in peoples aura so he could land a fatal blow.

Ironwood: You noticed all of that with just a single glance?

Jaune: I'm a analytical strategist, Sir. I often have to make, and notice several things within the space of a single breath.

Ironwood: I see, continue.

Jaune: Well, to keep him away from her I threw my sword at him. I know it was a dumb thing to do, but I needed to make him keep his distance from her. But, at the cost of making this opening, he jumped me, pinned me to the ground, and stabbed me with his stinger.

Jaune: I remember crying out in pain as the poison in his stinger made my shoulder burn. But, after that, ho got off of me, and tackled, Robyn hill to the ground, and he was about to kill her. We he did that, I suddenly got a massive surge of energy, probably by an adrenaline rush. But, I rushed over, grabbed, Tyrian from behind, and I...

Jaune: And, I snapped his neck...

Ironwood: And, what happened after you killed, Tyrian.

Jaune: I... I don't remember last thing I remember is throwing, Tyrian's body to the side, I think I said something... and, then... nothing...

Ironwood: Well, based on the report we got from, Robyn Hill, she said you fainted shortly after killing him.

Jaune: From the poison no doubt.

Ironwood nodded his head as he made to stand, putting the chair back in it's place.

Ironwood: Well, your account correlates with what, Robyn Hill said. Well, then... Did you get all of that, Penny?

Penny: Yes, sir! I have already uploaded this conversation to the central computer.

Ironwood: Good, very good. Well, we have much to talk about later about this incident, but for now; Rest, and heal up.

Jaune: Will do sir.

Ironwood: I will see you later, Mr. Arc.

Jaune: Sir.

Penny: See you later, Jaune!

Jaune: Bye, Penny.

Jaune waved goodbye to, Penny who left with a wide smile on her face. But, as the door closed, he knew she would be the only one of them who would come to see him. The rest, wouldn't know, nor care.

~~~

Winter: H-Hey, Jaune...

Jaune's focus on the video on his scroll was cut short as he saw, Winter Schnee poke her head through the door to his room.

Jaune: Winter? Please, please come in.

Winter: T-Thank you...

Jaune was a little confused; He could see a faint blush on, Winter's face, he'd seen, Winter blush before, and he thought she looked absolutely adorable when she was blushing. But, was she acting shy, and nervous towards him, or was there something else that was causing her to blush?

Jaune: Are...? Are you okay? You seem nervous.

Winter: Is there a problem with that?

Jaune: Kinda... I've always seen you as someone with complete control over your emotions. To see you nervous about something is just... weird...

Winter: Ahh well... I...

Winter walked over to his bed, and took a seat at the end as she nervously brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Winter: Are you okay... Jaune?

Jaune gave, Winter a cautionary once over; her nervousness was infectious. But, the blush across her face was most certainly quite captivating to gaze upon.

Jaune: I'm okay. A little drossy, but otherwise I'm fine.

Winter: But, you got stabbed by, Tyrian's stinger! You got injected with his poison! And, you're just fine?!

Jaune: I am. I activated my semblance when he stabbed me, I super charged it so it slowed down the poison, and close the wound. See, there's not even a scar...?!

As a testament to her skills as a, Huntresses, Winter moved closer to him, without him even noticing her move, and grabbed his face within her hands.

Winter: Jaune... This is serious! You got stabbed, you were poisoned, you could have died! Why are you not taking this serious?!

Jaune: Winter...

Jaune: I know I got stabbed, and that I was poisoned. I remember the burning sensation in my shoulder when the poison flooded my views. I remember the fear filling my soul as I thought I would die by that physco's hands. But, I refused to die there, and I refused to let that thing be the one that ends my life! So, I'm sorry if it seems like I'm making light of what happened to me, Winter. But, I'm a, Huntsman... It is my duty to fight, and if needs be die for the innocent. Be that civilians, my fellow, Specialist, or you, Winter.

Jaune looked into, Winter's eyes as tears started to fall down her angelic face.

Winter: Y-You would die for me...?

Jaune: No... I would live for you, Winter.

Jaune thought it was a cheesy line, but it was the truth, he would die to protect her, but he knew that would make her sad. And, after seeing, Winter cry for the first time, and he didn't want to see those tears fall down her face once again.

But, as, Jaune thought of this he noticed the smile spread across her face. He was about to comment about her smile, but the unexpected happened.

Winter pulled his face to hers, and kissed him. Jaune could feel her warm lips clash with his own. It was a kiss of passion, desire, and warmth. A kiss someone who had been holding it in gave their lover. And, as their kiss broke, they were left gasping for air.

Jaune looked at her radiant face, a smile that radiated the nights sky with it's radiance. Her eyes, sparkled with starlight as she lovingly stared at him. And, the blush that exploded across her face was oh so cute.

Winter: Oh, I?! I-I-I?! U-U-Uhhhh?!

Jaune: Winter...? Are you...

Winter: Oh what is that? General Ironwood is calling for me! I gotta go! Bye, Jaune.

Within the blink of the eye, Winter was gone. Leaving, Jaune behind in a dazed, and confused state. As he tried to gather his thoughts he came to a simple question.

What's with all the woman in his life grabbing him by the face, and kissing him? He wasn't that dense anymore, right...?

~~~

"Nock, nock nock."

Jaune: Hmm? Come in.

: Hi, Jaune.

Jaune R-Robyn?! W-What are you doing here?

Jaune was enjoying his supper, relatively; it was hospital food after all, nothing to write home about. Jaune didn't expect to have visitors during supper, much less, Robyn Hill. Jaune whipped his mouth with a napkin, and placed the tray on the table to his right.

Robyn: Why am I here? Oh, well... I'm here to check up on my savior.

Jaune: Savior? Oh come on, I was just doing my job, no need to look at me like that.

Robyn: Oh, why not...? Can't a girl see the literal white knight who saved her from a vile monster as her savior~?

Robyn started walking towards, Jaune's bed. A noticeable sway was to be found in her hips, and the lint of a sultry tone in her voice.

Jaune: Uhh...? I wear white armour... I'm a knight... I did save a girl from a vile monster...

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Okay, you can call me your savior, but not like... Not like that...

Robyn: Oh come on, Jaune...

Robyn then slid on his bed, her butt resting against his hip.

Robyn: Can't a girl have her fun?

Jaune: That depends, are you being serious with me, or is that a mask I'm looking at?

Robyn's warm smile faltered before a weary smile took it's place. She looked away from him as he hand found his, and tightly grasped it.

Robyn: Jaune... Who... who was that person...?

Jaune: ...

Jaune looked at her before he looked away, his mind searching for an answer that she would find satisfactory, whilst keeping things secret.

Jaune: His name was, Tyrian Callows. A psychotic scorpion faunas who wanted you dead.

Robyn: But, why?

Jaune: Your death, Robyn... it would sow division, and chaos between the people of, Mantle, and Atlas.

Robyn: But... who would want me dead?

Jaune: I can't tell you that.

Robyn: W-Why not?!

Jaune: I can't tell you.

Robyn: Why won't you?

Jaune: I can't tell you, Robyn.

Robyn: Why won't you tell me?!

Robyn grabbed him by his shirt's collar, screaming at his face all the while she was crying.

Jaune looked at, Robyn's face, watching at the tears fell down her caramel skin. Jaune looked into her eyes, watching as they quivered before him as her tears continued to cascaded down her face. And, Jaune came to the realization that this wasn't about, Robyn's desire for the truth. No, this was for something else entirely.

Jaune: Ahh... you're scared, aren't you, Robyn

Robyn's eyes widened in shock as, Jaune struck the nail on the head with a hammer. She let go of his shirt, she was about to get off his bed, but, Jaune kept her in place as he cupped her cheek with his hand.

Jaune: Hey, look at me...

A reding blush crept across, Robyn's face as she bashfully tried to keep eye contact with, Jaune.

Jaune: There are things I cannot tell you when it comes to, Tyrian. Many things I will not tell you for your own good, Robyn. But, I promise you this, I will protect you from those things.

Robyn looked away from, Jaune, the blush on her face deepening as he spoke those sweet words to her.

Jaune: You said I was your white knight when I saved you. Well, let me be that white knight for you, let me protect you from the monsters in the world. And, I promise you, Robyn, I will keep the monsters at bay.

As, Jaune finished talking, Robyn had whipped away her tears as she smile warmly at, Jaune.

Robyn: Do you promise to, Jaune?

Jaune: I give you an, Arc's word, Robyn.

Robyn: An, Arc's word? what is that?

Jaune: Simple: An, Arc gives their word to you, and an, Arc never breaks their word.

Robyn, laughed at that. the smile on her face growing ever more radiant.

Robyn: That's cheesy.

Jaune: It does, but it made you laugh.

Robyn: That it did...

Robyn reached into her coat, and pulled out a small flat box, and handed it to, Jaune.

Jaune: What's this?

Jaune opened the box, and found a silver badge; It was shaped much like, Robyn's pendant, but instead of a robin with it's wings in the air, it was a falcon.

Robyn: A-A lady's favour...

Jaune: A lady's favour?

Robyn: Y-Yeah... I read about lady's giving their knights tokens... of favour.. and what not... I-I saw this as a good thank you for... for saving me...

Jaune: Ahh... so I am you're knight then, aren't I... My lady?

Jaune shot, Robyn a teasing smirk, a smirk that fell as she looked at him misty eyed. Jaune was going to ask him what was wrong, when she suddenly grabbed his face, and kissed him.

Jaune could feel the warmth, the passion, and desire from, Robyn's lips as she deepened the kiss. They stayed lip locked until, Robyn ended the kiss. A radiant smile that could light up the nights sky came from her blushing face.

Robyn: I will hold you to that, my valiant knight.

Jaune: I uhh...?

Robyn kissed his cheek as she got up, and made her way to leave.

Robyn: I hope to see you later in, Mantle, Jaune. There's a lot of people who wish to thank you.

Jaune: Oh... o-okay...

Robyn: I'll see you later, Jaune~!

Jaune: Bye...

Jaune watched as, Robyn left. His fingers running across his lips, stunned that he had been kissed twice in the same day, by two different woman?!

His mind ran wild trying to comprehend what had just happen, but his concertation was broken as he heard laughter from his left. As he looked over to see red sitting on a counter.

Pyrrha: Oh~? Things are getting interesting, aren't they, Jaune~!

Jaune: O-O-Okay! I knew, Winter had a crush on me! But, I had no idea, Robyn liked me too! You can not hold that against me!

Jaune had expected many thing to happen when he came to, Atlas. Killing one of, Salem's minions was something he had hopped to happen.

But, to have two separate woman kiss him, and proclaim their love to him, in the same day!

Well, who exactly could have expected that?

[tending-the-hearth]

thinking about how canonically the pevensie siblings are 13, 12, 10, and 8 in "the lion, the witch, and the wardrobe"

thinking about how lucy needed a stool to be able to get up onto her throne, how peter's sword is a little too large for him, how susan's bow is a little too difficult for her to pull back, how edmund's shield nearly covers his entire body.

thinking about the pevensie siblings and their first few months in narnia, getting to know their new people, and half the narnians sitting there horrified because WHAT have these literal babies been through to give them such traumatized, old eyes, and the other half of the narnians are preparing to adopt them, no it doesn't matter that they're the rules, they're children who are being put in charge of too many things, and if peter looks at the old man council long enough he's going to cry, so someone needs to give him paternal support while aslan is off doing Lion Jesus Stuff™️ and whoops oreius is being nice and encouraging and now he's adopted his kings and queens they're his kids now he doesn't make the rules.

just the narnians and the pevensies being thrown into it together, and just as the pevensies will do anything to protect their new kingdom, the narnians will do anything to protect their rules, because let's be honest, these children have no sense of self-preservation, and are far too overprotective of each other and their people to take into account their own safety, so a lot of battles it's just one of the pevensie siblings running headfirst into danger with oreius running after them because his kids are feral and don't know proper royalty manners and won't threatening old kings from different countries because they're being assholes and the last time one of them tried undermining the queens susan called him a self-righteous asshole and lucy tried to stab him SOMEONE help him corral his children please

[avocado-writing]

Kinktober #13

13. Pregnancy // Aftercare // Roleplay (Wade Wilson x Reader)

“Mr Wilson? I’m ready to see you now.”

You don’t know how he talked you into this. It’s so porno-trope ridiculous. But here you are, dressed in the tight latex of a naughty nurse’s uniform, eyes wide and lips pouted as you lean on your wooden doorframe pretending it’s the entrance to an examination room.

To be fair Wade looks ecstatic. He puts down the copy of Men’s Health he’s been reading onto the coffee table - did he buy a load of magazines for this roleplay? - and stands up. From the moment he laid eyes on you all laced up in costume, he’s been rocking a semi.

It’s kinda flattering that after all this time together you can still have such an effect.

He follows you into the room and hops on the bed, affecting the posture of a sick man, cupping his groin like he’s sprained himself. You suppress an eye roll and take a seat in the ‘cuck chair’ (Wade’s name, not yours).

“What seems to be the problem, Mr Wilson?”

“Well nurse, it’s kinda embarrassing…”

Oh, okay, you’re doing a little bit of humiliation too. You can roll with that.

“I’m a medical professional Mr Wilson, please, it won’t be anything I haven’t heard before.”

He sighs long and hard before looking at you dead in the eyes.

“My penis is broken, nurse.”

You have to bite back a laugh and force yourself to stay in character. 

“Your penis… is broken.”

“I know, it’s terrible. Feels like my manhood has been ripped from me, and not even in a literal sense so I could grow a new one. It’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to anyone… I just can’t get hard any more, nurse. I don’t know what to do.”

You go to grab the box of latex gloves the two of you invested in for wound-cleaning and make a show of snapping one on in front of him, before the other accidentally falls to the floor.

“Oops! Aren’t I clumsy…” you sigh, bending over at the waist so the uniform rides up and he can see you’re not wearing any panties. You think you hear him whisper a prayer to an avocado but you can’t be sure. “Anyway, I’ll need to do an examination, Mr Wilson. Can you remove your sweatpants? Underwear too, please.”

He’s never obeyed a command so quickly. It’s kinda cute. When stripped you can tell he’s definitely half-hard, cock bobbing in interest when you inspect him.

“Well it seems like you’re responding pretty well so far… let me try a digital examination…”

You wrap your fingers around him and begin to pump, smiling to yourself as he hardens in your hand. Wade throws his head back and bites his lip, a very pretty sight, breathing laboured and ragged.

“How is this, Mr Wilson?”

“Pre…pretty good, nurse. Seems like you have magic hands. Think I’m not quite cured yet though…”

“Oh, that’s alright, I have an oral technique which helps in cases like these.”

You swallow him down to the hilt with one motion and Wade almost has to stab himself with baby knife so he doesn’t come in your mouth right there and then. Fixing him with a wicked look you start bobbing up and down his length, getting him covered in your spit in just the way he likes. His hand snakes round to the back of your head desperately.

“Nurse - gah - is it against your hippocratic oath if I ask you to bite me, or are we all systems go there?”

Coming off of his dick with a wet pop you go for his thigh teeth-first, sinking them into where the flesh of his leg circles to his asscheek. That’s enough. Wade chokes and comes all over your uniform, and you’re glad the latex is easily wiped clean.

As he falls back in the bed you scribble something on a piece of paper and tuck it in the pocket of his sweatpants. Wade looks up at you from the mattress.

“What’s that?”

“Prescription for a round of cowgirl, to be administered later this evening.”

He lights up like the Fourth of July. 

[azsazz]

Dead by Dawn (Part 17)

Azriel x Cassian x Reader

Summary: Zombie!AU: It’s been a while since the end of the world.

Warnings: Blood, gore, injury, graphic depictions of violence, poly!relationship, slow burn, undead, death,

Word Count: 3058

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16)

Notes: heyyyy what do you know, i found it in me to get this part out. im proud.

_________________________________________

Day 195 Part 3

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

You never been one to throw caution to the wind, but with what sits before you, the urge is strong.

Animals were one of the first things to go when disease swept across the world, which is why it’s so difficult not to pick up the juicy chicken breast that’s steaming on the plate in front of you, and completely ravage it.

Your mouth waters at the sight. There are greens, too. A blend of spinach and vegetables cooked to perfection in animal fat. It’s the first real meal you’ve seen in…fuck you don’t even know how long it’s been since you’ve seen real meat like this, nor food that wasn’t expired and from a can.

The only thing keeping your restraint in place is your companions' determination. The sprinkle of common sense that hasn’t fizzled into a ravenous beast at the scent of your meal is easy to overlook, but Azriel’s menacing presence beside you isn’t. His back is ramrod straight in his own seat, and the food doesn’t seem to be affecting him in the slightest. He’s undeterred by their taunts. Instead, his woody eyes drink in your surroundings for the umpteenth time, as if there might be a hint as to what’s really going on here. 

On your other side, you’re flanked by Cassian, who does look like he’s struggling to keep himself from sinking his teeth into the juicy thigh on his plate, however little it might be. It’s more than he’s had to eat in days, months, and he wants it so fucking badly.

In fact, no one’s touching their food, which is a red flag of itself, but your head is swimming at the smells, your stomach a mess of knots that loosen at the idea of food, and tighten at the thought of where your best friend could be.

You’re also a little afraid, if you’re being honest, of getting sick should you eat something this…real after having gone so long without.

Nesta watches you from across the table with a piercing stare. There’s a malice you’ve become accustomed to being fed in the little time you’ve known her. You understand that she’s worried for her sister, out there with little protection, but you’re worried too. You feel as if Feyre is your sister as well. You’ve been winning your own little war against the undead for too long to remember.

At her side is who you can only decern to be her lover, Eris. You ponder their relationship, what you saw in the woods. Perhaps they’re nothing more than companions, but with the way the auburn-haired man keeps stealing glances at her, worry etched in his brow, you know there must be more.

The chair beside Eris is filled with a near clone of him. They have twin eyes and looks of caution on their fox-shaped faces. The unnamed man wears his hair long down his back, a single braid hangs down the side of his face. It’s not a nice one, practiced, but messy, like whoever put it there was distracted more often than not during styling. The only differentiator is the color of their skin, because even the shape of their eyes and their stature is eerily similar. It’s clear that they are nothing like their scumbag of a father, and the thought of Beron alone makes you shiver in your seat.

There’s an empty seat beside him, and you can’t help the stab of guilt you feel at the sight of it. You don’t know if they’ve lost someone important to their little unit they have going on here, or if there’s a reason for the unoccupied seat.

Cassian’s stomach growls loudly, breaking the terse silence. 

“Everything is safe to eat, I can assure you,” Eris mentions after clearing his throat. Nesta shoots him a look that could make even a zombie cower, but he must be used to it because he takes the betraying look with grace, gently settling a palm onto her lap.

Nesta doesn’t shove it away like you expect her to. Instead, her lips go razor thin. The pair stare at each other so intensely that you feel like you’re intruding on something monumental.

Eventually, Nesta breaks. With a sharp inhalation, she turns her gaze to you. She doesn’t look happy, but at least she doesn’t look like she wants to reach across the table and maul you for losing her sister.

“Eat,” she all but demands. She cringes, grits her teeth, and adds like the words are truly poison in her mouth, “Please.”

“You’ll excuse us if we don’t trust you,” Azriel replies curtly. Your eyes soften as they land on him, even if his gaze is trained on your hosts. Weeks ago, he’d been wary of you, and now he’s here protecting you from the outsiders that are holding you captive.

You’ve never been so thankful for him, and you remind yourself to thank him for it later.

“Don’t eat, then.” Nesta shrugs as if his words don’t bother her in the slightest. Your whereabouts of Feyre seem to have caught her off guard because right now she is the perfect poise of excellence. Her nature could give any queen a run for their crown.

She’s the first one to dig into her meal. She uses the cutlery as if they’re weapons, tearing into the meat with a force that has you praying to any higher being that Feyre and Rhys are on their way to you, because you do not want to be on the other end of Nesta’s knife.

Your eyes flicker back down to your plate, to the shiny silverware placed on either side of your plate. Hell, you’re not even sure you remember how to use them anymore, with how long you’ve had to make do on the road.

“Please, eat,” Eris counters with a stern look that doesn’t affect Nesta in the slightest. Eris motions to his brother and they both pick up their forks, as if trying to show you everything is okay.

“I don’t trust the animals, either,” Azriel responds.

“How about the vegetables, then?” Eris offers, and you think you catch a glint of pleading in his amber eyes. You think he’s trying to keep things civil and calm for Nesta’s sake. You’re sure she’s worried to pieces about her littlest sister out there when the sun is so close to hiding away for another night of hell. “The animals are perfectly healthy, though I assure you the food will not go to waste if you don’t eat it.”

“How are they safe?” Cassian questions, grimacing down at the meat. You know that he out of everyone in your little group needs it the most. You’ve seen his protruding ribs only yesterday, and with him being the biggest in your group, he needs the nutrients more than anyone.

A sudden urge of protectiveness washes over you. You want him safe and healthy, want both him and Azriel safe and happy, and you wish more than anything that you could give it to them.

Only time will tell.

Eris gives a very diplomatic response. “My family has owned this land for generations,” he starts, and you don’t like to think of how he is Beron’s son. It makes all of the desperation to eat, subside. “We have been raising and breeding our own meat and dairy for just as long. They have never showed signs of disease, but perhaps it’s because they live a life unknowing of what goes on in this world.” You’re not following, but Eris continues before your confusion causes you to blurt out questions.

“My brother—Lucien,” he nods toward his brother beside him. “Takes care of them. When our father first heard the mumblings of a pandemic so devastating, the world as we knew it would never be the same, he built a bunker of sorts, where we continue to monitor and raise our animals to this day.”

“That was about the only smart thing he ever did,” Lucien mumbles, looking green at the mention of his father.

You get the feeling.

Azriel says, “Yeah, we’ve had the unfortunate displeasure of meeting the bastard.”

Lucien’s utensils fall to the table with a clang that startles you in your seat. He looks sick to his stomach, his ying-yang eyes drawn down to his plate in shame. His shoulders are stiff and he’s gone so still you think he might be comatose, turning into a zombie right in front of your very eyes.

“You’ve met him?” Lucien asks, and he sounds like a little boy, reliving a trauma so ghastly that it’s altered his brain chemistry.

“Met him, killed him,” Azriel shrugs as if it was no big feat. Your stomach roils at the memory and you must look paler than normal because Cassian’s placing a. warm hand over yours in comfort. Azriel’s brashness isn’t new to you, but the reminder is too fresh. You try to focus on your hand in Cassian’s, offering him a weak smile.

The tension in the air seems to disperse with Azriel’s words. You’re pretty sure you see Lucien’s shoulders physically drop in relief, like he feels the same way you do about his father. Eris sits in his seat, stunned, but he doesn’t look upset about the news, he looks more disappointed, like he missed out on being the one to kill the crazy cannibal.

“Well, I think this calls for the good wine,” Nesta says, and you swear you see the corners of her mouth threaten to tug into a satisfied smirk.

She glances at you from across the table, and you pick up your fork.

You hope that this is the first of many things that you will agree with her on.

There is little conversation while you eat. Azriel’s brows are drawn in tight, and his mouth is set in a hard line. He keeps glancing over at you with a scolding heat in his eyes, but there’s a sliver of worry that makes you ache, like he thinks you might keel over from the chicken.

If you do, you’re not even sure you’ll be mad. It’s good fucking chicken.

You try to savor it, to eat slowly so that your body doesn’t reject the first real meal you’ve had in forever, but you can hardly control yourself. You feel like a rabid animal, hungry enough to gnaw your own arm off. You wonder if this is what the zombies outside feel like, an insatiable hunger, or if they’re so mindless they don’t feel anything at all.

You reckon you have only minutes before the food makes its reappearance, but you can’t find it in yourself to care when you slide your silverware onto your empty plate, trying to deter yourself from leaning forward and licking it clean.

Cassian has no such reservations.

“How long has it been since you’ve tried to contact my sister?” Nesta asks when the three of you have finished. Even Azriel couldn’t help but clear his plate, though he did take the longest of the three of you, more than mindful of your captors.

It makes your heart swell that he has kept an eye out for you and Cassian.

Azriel and Cassian share a look over your head, debating how much to indulge. But this is Feyre’s sister, and they want to find her and Rhys just as much, so they relent.

“We tried getting through to them this afternoon, before we ran into you,” Cassian explains. “They were too far out of range.”

“Call them again,” she demands, and Eris opens his mouth to protest but Nesta is clearly done with niceties. “No,” she snaps at the man beside her. “We have given them a place to stay and a warm meal. It’s time for them to do something in return.”

You don’t mention how you didn’t have a choice but to be here, and that they wouldn’t have had to give up their food if you were still wandering out in the woods, but your stomach is too full to argue that point.

Cassian tugs the walkie-talkie from his pocket and switches it on. The static is loud, and you all wait in anticipation until the signal calms a bit before he clicks the button on the side and makes the call. “Rhys? Feyre? Are you out there?”

It’s like waiting for a cure as the six of you listen to the channel. Nothing comes through, and Cassian calls again, to no avail.

“We’ll keep trying,” he says, a determined look in his eye. You’re pretty sure that’s the only thing keeping Nesta in her seat, because she looks like she will reach across the table and stab you with her knife.

Movement in the corner of your eye makes you flinch. Cassian’s arm reaches out to block you and Azriel’s already halfway out of his seat, ready to tear you away from the threat that stumbles into the doorway.

The threat comes in the form of what must be Feyre’s other sister, Elain. She looks ghastly, skin as white as sheet, and as well-fed as Eris’ claims them to be, she’s all skin and bones. Her brown eyes are dull and sunken, purple-rimmed as if she hasn’t had a peaceful night of sleep in years. Her blonde-brown hair sits limp on her head, knotted at the back, as if she’s been drained of all of the health in her life.

She looks like a zombie.

Nesta jumps from her chair at the same time Lucien does, the both of them rushing for Elain. Lucien gets to her first, catching her just as her knees give out and scooping her into his arms. Her head lolls against his chest as if the effort to keep it upright is a burden too much, but her dazed gaze sharpens when it lands on you.

You’re frozen in your seat. You have no words for what you’re seeing, the sickly girl who looks closer to death than a zombie. Your heart pounds a thousand miles a minute in your chest, and your fingers are white-knuckled with confusion and fear where they’re wrapped around Cassian’s forearm.

Elain’s brown eyes widen in a way that looks unnatural for her once beautiful face. Her cracked lips form husky words that are so ominous it has the hair on your body standing on end.

“Twin ravens are coming, one white and one black. One has an injured wing.”

Lucien hushes her softly, murmuring to her as he removes her from the room. “Shh, Elain. Let’s get you back to bed, petal. You shouldn’t be expending so much energy until you’re feeling better.”

Guilt stabs you a thousand times over as he takes her away. It doesn’t take long for you to connect the dots with what you’ve seen. How sickly she looks, the faraway look and ramblings that don’t make sense.

“When did it happen?” You blurt, eyes darting from a stoney-faced Nesta to a grimacing Eris to the door Lucien and Elain disappeared through. You don’t like the feeling that overcomes you, the one that wants you to get the fuck out of here as quickly as possible.

Something isn’t right here.

“It’s late,” Nesta states, looking between the three of you like she’s deciding how she’s going to kill each of you. You suppose she might, if she feels any sort of threat to her sister. For now, she needs you alive, if only to help find her other sister. She won’t dump any of you out yet, unless you can’t prove your worth.

Not unless Feyre is dead.

Azriel tucks you carefully behind him, more than aware of the threat before you. You can tell that he’s just as confused as you are. There’s a tightness to his shoulders that you don’t like, an edge to the strain of his body that screams danger.

His mouth opens to speak, but he’s cut off by the sudden voice that comes over the walkie-talkie.

“Cassian? Azriel? Do you copy?” Rhys’ panicked voice sounds through the machine. More than one emotion threatens to consume you, relief and worry. The full meal in your belly swarms like crashing waves, and you might just throw up after all.

Cassian, Azriel, and Nesta all lunge for the radio. Eris gets his hand around Nesta’s bicep and pulls her away, much to her reluctance. She claws against him but he’s only keeping her away from the three of you, still very much a threat.

Not that you’d be of any assistance should either party try to attack. You’ve collapsed in the closest chair.

“Rhys?” Cassian calls back, just as frantic. His terrified hazel eyes are locked with Azriel’s, and it’s all the black-haired boy can do to console Cassian with a reassuring hand to his shoulder. “Can you hear me? Where the fuck are you?”

It wouldn’t mean much to Nesta, who’s given up her struggling to listen into what’s happening, but to Cassian, you know the touch means everything.

Anticipation skyrockets throughout the room, bringing the temperature up to boiling as you await his response. Each second feels like an eternity, and you’re sure the vein throbbing on Nesta’s forehead is about to explode when Rhysand finally responds.

It sounds like he’s running. You pray that’s not a groan of the undead you hear in the background. “Fuck,” he curses in such a hopeless way that makes your heart drop to the floor. Whatever he’s about to say, it’s not going to be good. “I need you to come find us. I don’t know where the fuck we are, but we need help.”

Azriel rips the walkie-talkie from Cassian’s hand, ready to take the lead. He pockets one of the knives at the table and you can’t even muster the energy to joke about how a butterknife won’t be the best weapon against a horde of zombies because you’re more than ready to follow him into the fray, sans weapons, if all to save your friends.

“Where are you, Rhys? I need landmarks.”

 “Az,” Rhys breathes, but he doesn’t sound relieved. In fact, he sounds spent, and there’s no sign of Feyre on the other line. “We need help. Badly. Feyre’s been bitten.”

And hey, your dinner does make its reappearance after all.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

DBD Taglist: @writingsbychlo @kemillyfreitas @5moremin @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @waggel36  @bionic-donut @queserasera @applepie02  @azrielsbabyg  @arcadianmoonlight  @pradaxstyles  @illyrian-dreamerdreamer @reiincarnatiion  @fuckthatfeeling  @shadowsingersmate24 @poppyalice2001  @fallmyriad  @sstrohma  @tcris2020 @jeannineee  @21stcenturytaegi @ochiolism @secretly-here @harrystylesfan2686 @i-am-infinite @lees-chaotic-brain @eternallyelvish @lilah-asteria @randombibitch @st4r-girl-official @nanisearchinginnerpeace (i hope you see this idk if this tag worked 😭)

IDK if any of these tags are going to work but someone plz lmk 💙

[annebd]

winter warmers, day 13: free use. 600 words.

Max doesn’t want to talk about it. He doesn’t like having to say what he likes and doesn’t like. He likes everything. He loves everything when it’s with Daniel. He doesn’t want to sit in the living room with their clothes on and not touch each other and look each other in the eye and say all the words.

Daniel says that consent is important and that there are safe words and boundaries and that they need to be on the same page about these things in case either of them ever goes too far.

Max knows that Daniel would never go too far. He doesn’t need a safe word because he knows Daniel will stop if he says stop. But he won’t say stop. He doesn’t have any boundaries where Daniel is concerned. He doesn’t need them. He consents to everything, always.

As far as Max cares, he is Daniel’s to do with as he pleases. That’s what he likes. What he loves. What he wants. His body is his own, but it’s also Daniel’s. And Daniel’s is Max’s, too, but not the same.

Max likes when Daniel sits next to him on the couch while he’s playing FIFA and tugs the leg of Max’s shorts open so that he can play with the soft skin of Max’s balls. He likes when Daniel teases his foreskin until he starts to harden and the head of his cock starts to poke out, a little wet. He likes when Daniel swipes his finger through the wetness and paints it onto Max’s bottom lip and lets it sit there for a moment before he licks it off. He likes it when he wins the match and cheers with his team on voice chat but has to keep very quiet when he starts the next match because Daniel has swallowed him down to the root and is going to make him come.

Max loves when he’s in the kitchen, waiting for his tomato soup to warm in the microwave, and Daniel takes the spoon out of his hand and spins him around to bend him over the counter. He loves when Daniel pulls his shorts down and nudges his legs open and pulls his cheeks apart to lick at his hole with the broad flat of his tongue. He loves when his knees start to go weak so Daniel has to hold him up with one arm while his fingers dig into his cheek and his tongue stabs into his hole. He loves when he comes so hard that he cries out and Daniel helps him pull his shorts back on and kisses him on his shoulder and rewarms his tomato soup in the microwave.

Max wants Daniel to do more. He wants him to come over when Max is on his at-home sim and grab Max by the hair to turn his head to the side. He wants Daniel to press his cock against Max’s mouth and not let him suck it yet, just to feel the weight of it on his lips. He wants Daniel to say “good boy” when he opens his mouth wide and lets Daniel thrust slowly in and out, and a drop of spit and pre-come slides out. He wants Daniel to angle him so perfectly that he can keep going on the sim, finish the lap, set a representative lap time, while Daniel shudders and comes down his throat.

But Daniel says that he won’t do those things until they talk about them.

So Max sits. And he looks Daniel in the eye. And he talks.

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [13] - Cupcakes

A.N: Here’s the new chapter my loves! ❤️ Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: There are many ways to plan a wedding.

Word Count: 2500

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Violence, stabbing, death, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

Apparently, the fact that you had been in a car chase with bullets flying around last night didn’t change the fact that you had to go cake tasting the next morning.

Even if you were in desperate need of some sleep.

Bucky had brought you back into the honeymoon suit last night and put around twenty bodyguards in the hallway before leaving, and even if you wanted to go with him to question the captives, you were way too tired to do so. Since he was nowhere to be found in the suit after you woke up, you figured he had gone to his apartment instead of here after he was done. You heaved a sigh as you filled your cup with coffee, then walked to sit down on the couch and pulled your phone up to check the schedule for the day. Taking a sip of your coffee, you sent a quick text to Becca, and looked over your shoulder when you heard the door open.

Bucky offered you a small smile as he stepped into the hotel suit, and you tilted your head.

“Hey,” you said. “I was wondering where you were.”

“Hey,” he rasped out, exhaustion laced in his tone and you frowned slightly.

“Why do you look like you haven’t slept last night?”  

Bucky shook his head, making his way to the coffee pot before grabbing a cup from the cabinet.

“Because I haven’t—” He stopped talking when he looked down at the red fingertip stains on the white porcelain cup he was holding, then cursed under his breath and went to wash his hands in the sink. You took a better look at him, now noticing the blood on his clothes and pulled back slightly.

“Bucky?”

“Not my blood,” he said. “I was uh—we were questioning the guys.”

“The whole night?”

“Mm hm,” he said, wiping his hands with a paper towel before grabbing another cup to pour himself some coffee. You leaned back to the kitchen island, cradling your cup in your palms.

“You should get some rest.”

“No time for that,” he said, taking a huge sip of his coffee. “I’m gonna take a quick shower and go to work. How do you feel? Could you get some sleep last night?”

“Are you trying to divert the subject?”

“Yeah, is it working?”

“No,” you deadpanned. “You need to sleep.”

“Sleep is for the weak,” he joked, making you roll your eyes at him.

“Bucky.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said. “Don’t worry about me.”

“I don’t,” you said quickly. “I don’t worry about you as a principle. It’s just that if you get sick because you haven’t slept or whatever, we’ll have to postpone the wedding and I know you haven’t met our wedding planner but she is not the type of person you cross.”

“Noted,” Bucky said. “Do you have any plans today?”

“I’m going cake tasting with Becca,” you said. “So did the guys say anything?”

“One of them will, eventually,” Bucky said. “We’re being very convincing.”

You hummed.  “Do you have a preference?”

“In weapons?”

You blinked a couple of times.

“In cakes,” you said. “Flavor wise.”

“Ah,” he said. “Sorry, my mind is still at the warehouse. Anything but banana.”

“Very helpful,” you muttered. “You don’t have a favorite flavor in cakes?”

“Not really, I’m good with all of them—” he started but his phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out, then his eyes skimmed the lines before he let out a groan.

“What?” you asked and he rubbed at his eyes.

“I forgot I had a meeting with Stark,” he said and cleared his throat. “Great, okay. So doing wedding stuff today then?”

“Yeah I gotta take a shower and get ready, but I can wait. You’re the one who looks like a horror movie killer.”

He grinned. “You know, if you ever wanted to save water…”

“You’re about to pass out from exhaustion and you can still make sex jokes?” you asked with your brows raised and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I have my priorities,” he said. “So if you—”

“That will never happen,” you pointed out. “Go.”

He held up his hands.

“Okay, okay…” he said as he climbed the stairs and you shook your head slightly when you heard the bathroom door close.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered, taking another sip of your coffee. “Can’t believe I’m marrying him.”

                                             *

When you planned this cake tasting with Becca, you were sure it would be fun for you but safe to say, Becca’s mood wasn’t the best after last night. When you first talked about it, you had said Leila could join as well but since she wasn’t here, you could only guess they had a big talk last night, after the car chase incident.

“So,” you said as you sat down and grabbed the nearest cupcake, then read the label that informed you that it was walnut and carrot. “How have you been?”

“Fine,” Becca said, turning the cupcake in her hand and you pressed your lips together.

“How is Leila after last night?”

“Uh, she went to work,” Becca said, still staring at her cupcake. “And hasn’t texted me yet so I wouldn’t know.”

“Did she say anything last night?” you asked as you bit down on the cupcake, then shook your head and put it aside while Becca heaved a sigh.

“Yeah we talked.”

“And?”

“She says—I mean obviously she was terrified but she kept saying it wasn’t my fault.”

You hummed. “But you don’t believe her.”

“Well she has been in zero car chases with bullets flying around before she met me, so…” Becca trailed off and you reached out to hold her hand.

“Becca…”

“She’s going to leave me,” Becca said and cleared her throat. “You know what, she should leave me. That’s the right choice there.”

“Becca!”

“I never thought I’d say this, but maybe mom was right.”

You rolled your eyes. “I love Winnifred, but I wouldn’t take her advice on romance.”

“No no,” Becca said. “She kept saying this life is no fit for civilians, and she’s right.”

“You’re not even officially in the business,” you told her. “I mean I can see why being with a civilian would put them in danger if you’re one of the bosses, but you’re not. You don’t even want to be.”

“It doesn’t matter though,” Becca insisted. “I put my girlfriend in danger—”

“HYDRA put your girlfriend in danger,” you said. “And everyone is fine except those guys. I don’t know where Bucky took them but—”

“The usual warehouse.”

“Ah,” you said. “Well apparently he questioned them all night last night, so I can assure you that we’re taking revenge.”

“My girlfriend’s safety is more important to me than revenge,” she said and you pulled back slightly.

“Right,” you said. “No I know. But they’re never going to hurt anyone else, I assure you. And Leila is safe.”

She pursed her lips together and shut her eyes before squeezing at your hand.

“Sorry if that came out snappy.”

“No I get it,” you said. “Trust me.”

“It’s just…” she muttered and swallowed thickly. “Is this going to be the rest of my life? Always looking over my shoulder and worrying I might get someone killed?”

“Of course not,” you said in a rush. “No way. We had truce so far and it never happened before right? It’s just until we get rid of these assholes that we need to be extra careful, that’s all. After that, it will all be fine.”

She scoffed a small laugh.

“You sound like Bucky.”

“That might be the worst thing you ever said to me throughout our friendship,” you deadpanned and she let out a giggle.

“He looked pretty worried last night.”

“I mean I’d say so, you’re his little sister—”

“No no, for you,” she said. “We had a talk when he took me and Leila home.”

You pulled your brows together and shook your head.

“No way, Bucky doesn’t worry about me,” you said. “Why would he?”

Becca blinked a couple of times, and opened her mouth then closed it again to lean her fist on her lips, as if trying to control herself.

“Because we’re picking cakes for your wedding right now?”

“Oh yeah but that’s the only reason,” you said. “If I get killed, he will have to do business with Ian and he won’t do it so… It’s in his self-interest rather than my wellbeing.”

“I can’t believe I used to accuse Bucky of being oblivious.”

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” she said. “Okay so, my relationship issues aside, let’s pick the perfect cake for you and my brother’s wedding that is completely pragmatical on both sides, nothing more.”

You nodded fervently, then turned to look at the table.

“Not the bananas though, apparently he doesn’t like banana flavor in cakes.”

Becca raised her brows and tried to bite back a smile.

“Right. Uh huh.”

“Anyways,” you said and grabbed the next cupcake. “Let’s do a pragmatical cake tasting then.”

                                                        *

By the time you were done with everything you were supposed to do, it was already evening. You and Becca had picked two cakes but you couldn’t be sure so you had asked the bakery to give you a box of them so that you could get Bucky’s opinion as well.

Even though the idea of making his slice banana flavored just to mess with him was tempting, you were going to play nice.

Well, as nice as you could.

You pulled over in front of the warehouse and left the car with your bodyguards following you. Bucky’s men rushed around as soon as they saw you walking there with the small bag thrown over your arm, and one of them opened the door to no doubt let Bucky know. You smiled at the men by the door.

“May I?”

“Of—of course ma’am,” one of them said, opening the door for you and you stepped inside to see Bucky approaching the door.

“Charm?”

“Hi there,” you said looking around the warehouse. You had been here a couple of times while you were still the heir, and it looked as huge as you remembered. You could see the tied up figured on the chair far away in the room as the familiar scent of blood hit your nostrils, and you scrunched up your face before turning to Bucky’s men. “Could you leave us please?”

They turned to look at Bucky who nodded, so they all left one by one, leaving you with him and the tied figure that almost looked unconscious. Bucky went to the table to grab a towel so that he could wipe his bloodied hands.

“What are you doing here?”

“Wedding stuff,” you said, putting the bag on the table to open the small cardboard box. “I’m supposed to let them know tonight about which flavor we picked, and I figured I wouldn’t have the time if you decide to spend the whole night here again.”

“Okay but—”

“Also what kind of a question is that? We’re getting married and I can’t visit you at work, asshole?”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Here,” you cut him off by pushing a piece of cupcake into his mouth before he could say anything else and he pulled his brows together as he chewed on it, obviously deciding that arguing with you was useless.

“This is amazing,” he said. “What is this?”

“Lemon coconut,” you said as you tore a piece of the other cupcake in the box while he nodded.

“We can go with this one—”

“No so fast buddy, try this too,” you said, pushing the piece of the other cupcake into his mouth again and he chewed on it, deep in thought.

“And this?”

“Chocolate blueberry.”

“Fuck, this is a hard decision.”

“I know right?” you asked while the guy tied to the chair let out a whine. “I’m more leaning towards lemon coconut but…”

“Yeah no, chocolate blueberry is delicious too—why don’t we have two cakes?”

“Because the cake is symbolical Bucky!” you whispered while the guy let out another groan. “This marriage is going to require us to take some decisions about business together, how are we going to do that if we can’t decide on—shut it asshole!”

Bucky looked over his shoulder at the guy. “Yeah prick, we’re having a conversation here.”

“Fuck you,” the guy managed to wheeze out and Bucky shook his head slightly.

“You’d think he’d be more cooperative since I killed the other guy in front of him.”

You hummed, picking at the cupcake. “We are killing him too right?”

“Obviously, he put you and Becca in danger.”

“He also made Becca upset!” you said. “You know how I feel when people make Becca upset.”

Bucky popped the piece of cupcake into his mouth, then nodded his head.

“Lemon coconut it is,” he said. “Can I go back to beating the fuck out of him now?”

“Yeah don’t let me stop you,” you said and grabbed another cupcake from the box to follow him to the guy.

It was quite obvious that Bucky had broken every single bone in his face considering how he looked. Blood was dripping from his nose and mouth, his breaths were leaving his bloodied lips in pained groans but he still managed to look up at you while you leaned sideways to the column close to you, nibbling on the cupcake.

“Oh isn’t this the princess?” he said with great difficulty but let out a groan when Bucky grabbed his throat to squeeze it.

“I didn’t say you could look at her,” Bucky said calmly and you grinned.

“Hi there,” you said, chewing on the cupcake. “You seemed more confident while you were chasing me with a car, huh?”

The guy let out a choked noise and Bucky tilted his head, then pulled his hand back so that he could breathe again.

“You fucking bitch…” the guy started but he didn’t get to finish his sentence when Bucky punched him in the stomach, knocking the breath out of his lungs. He coughed while Bucky shook his head slightly.

“He just doesn’t learn,” he told you and you shrugged your shoulders.

“They never do,” you said, turning to the guy. “That was very rude by the way. Someone should teach you some manners.”

The guy scoffed and spat out blood.

“Maybe someone should teach you, you spoiled slut—”

He didn’t get to say anything else when Bucky pulled out his knife and rammed it right into his kneecap, making him let out a howl of pain.

“Maybe,” you said, your voice completely calm. “It’s not going to be you who teaches me anything though.”

He tried to catch his breath while you popped the rest of the cupcake into your mouth, then tilted your head.

“Bucky?”

He looked over his shoulder. “Yes sweetheart?”

“Make him do it again.”

Bucky shot you a grin and twisted the knife, the guy’s scream echoing through the warehouse again.

Chapter 14

[honeyxbee]

The Taste of Fear

Feitan x fem!reader

Day 13 ― Sadism TW: NSFW, noncon, graphic violence, cutting/stabbing, kidnapping, captive reader, blood, sadism, restraints, implied torture, sexual torture, overstimulation, threats of starvation, humiliation words: 1010

You're going to die.

It's an uncomfortable realization you have upon waking up in a freezing basement, your body securely bound to a wooden chair. You don't even have to see your captors; you already know.

You're going to die.

The sound of a heavy door swinging open breaks the silence of the room, your eyes immediately landing on the man who just walked in. He's not very big ― it wouldn't typically be intimidating, but the cold look in his eyes sends an involuntary shiver down your spine. The knife in his hand doesn't help.

"Pretty girl awake," he says almost casually as he approaches you, his eyes scanning your body. "What's name?"

Perhaps a part of you knew this was going to happen, eventually. Your boss warned you before you agreed to this assignment. That hunting down the Phantom Troupe was most likely a death sentence. You waved off his words, then. You were confident in yourself, sure that you'd be the one to finally make these awful people pay for all the people they've hurt.

You don't feel so confident right now. You keep your mouth clamped shut, afraid that any attempt to speak would just end in sobs. You try to look braver than you feel. You maintain eye contact with him and hope he doesn't notice how badly you're trembling.

He snickers, and you immediately know that he does. "Ah..brave girl, huh?" he muses as he approaches you, crouching in front of you. He slowly trails the tip of the knife down your cheek, making you shiver. "No speak? Brave, terrified girl won't say name?" He pauses for a moment to give you time to answer, but when your lips remain clamped shut, he sighs.

"We begin now."

You barely have time to register his words before the knife is digging into your thigh. A small gasp of pain escapes your lips, your body instinctively trying to jerk away, but your binds keep you firmly in place. "What's wrong, girl?" Feitan snickers, pushing the knife deeper into your skin. "Not having fun?"

You grit your teeth, doing everything in your power not to give him the satisfaction of watching you cry out in pain. "F-Fuck you," you manage to force out, making his eyes glimmer in amusement.

"Ah, you funny girl. Very brave.." he muses as he tugs the knife away. You suck in a deep breath, and then he forces the blade into your other thigh, making you scream out. "..though not so smart." You whimper in pain when he pulls the knife out of your skin, and he seems to only get more excited when he notices your body is already beginning to heal itself. "Girl knows nen?"

He wipes off his bloody knife on your clothes and takes a step back, slowly beginning to pace. You can only watch him warily as his eyes never leave your face. "If girl knows nen...need change tactics," he mutters as he gives you one last glance before walking out, leaving you alone in the basement once again. Something tells you this new tactic is going to be much worse.

He visits you every day for the next week. He doesn't say anything, doesn't hurt you again ― he drags a chair over, sits in front of you and just..stares. It doesn't make any sense, you think. You don't understand why he hasn't killed you. But you keep the question to yourself, figuring it's better not to ask. When he visits on the eighth day with an almost pleasant expression, you immediately feel uneasy, though you're not sure why at first.

You figure out why soon enough.

"This more effective for girl," Feitan says aloud as he sits across from you, watching your body desperately writhe against the vibrator he's been holding against your clit for the last hour and a half. His hand is already soaked from how much you've cum, the quiet buzzing of the vibrator lost in between your cries and the obscene wetness.

"Please, no more," you sob out. It just hurts; the pleasure has long faded into the throbbing pain of your clit being rubbed raw and swollen by the toy. But he's given you no sign that he's going to stop anytime soon, and it's obvious he has no plans to based on the subtle excitement in his eyes and the evident hard-on in his jeans.

No, he's enjoying this.

"Fascinating. Girl is so wet," he comments as he presses two of his long fingers against your twitching cunt, studying just how quickly his fingers are drenched. "Is enjoying this."

You shake your head in protest. You want to scream that you're not enjoying this at all. To beg him to just stop, that you'll tell him anything he wants to know. But it's hard to form words right now. Another broken sob escapes your lips as an orgasm washes over you for the umpteenth time.

Feitan just watches as you cum, not letting off on the vibrator. "You are. Girl's clit is sensitive..girl making a mess," he snickers. You've never been more humiliated in your life, yet you have no choice but to endure your body failing you over and over again.

Feitan is quiet for a few seconds before speaking again. "I bring someone else here later. Need torture them, so I bring girl upstairs to room. If girl fights me, no food for another week."

It's strange that such words can bring you both hope and dread.

Hope, because the threat is him continuing to starve you, which means he does plan on feeding you sometime soon. That's good, at least, you remind yourself. He hasn't fed you since he brought you here; you're starving.

Yet the fear of what's to come doesn't fade; if anything, it only grows. Because it means he plans on keeping you alive for a while longer; that this isn't close to ending, after all. He doesn't intend on killing you anytime soon.

A part of you is afraid he never will.

[flowerandblood]

The Lost Haven (13/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, unprotected sex content, kind of hate sex too, oral sex, fingering, smut, the angst, drug dealing, violence, uncomfortable conversations, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn't let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father's mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra's husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin's brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

He didn't know why he had taken her to Heavenly Beach that day. When he thought about it afterwards, it was clear to him that it was sheer madness, the danger he had put her in by how afraid he was.

He was terrified of what his people thought of him, terrified of how they would look at him after he had shot his own brother and fled, after Aegon had suggested that he had raped their niece, after he had declared to everyone that they were actually in a relationship.

For some reason, her words about how once they appeared there together the reasons for gossip would also end calmed him down, although not for long: as soon as they stepped inside the club he regretted his decision.

Everyone's eyes were on them, or rather on her, seeing her as his toy, his whore, his momentary entertainment, his deviation that he had given vent to. With the touch of his hand on her back and shoulders he tried to remind her of his presence, he knew, however, that he had dragged her down and that there was no turning back now.

Once they sat down, once his men looked at her, he understood what he had actually done: he had exposed her, shown her to the world as something that belonged to him, his whim, a stab in the back for Daemon.

They didn't know what she knew, didn't know him as a child, that boy she played with by the sea.

He never laughed or smiled in their presence, never let anyone touch him, and the women he fucked had the same value to him as his car or a packet of cigarettes.

That is why he knew that the sight of his niece sinking into sleep from fatigue, snuggled up against his chest, was to them merely a sign of his childish excess, as if he had stolen a precious jewel from someone's collection and was now bragging about the very fact that he possessed it.

Taking a drag on his cigarette, staring dully ahead, involuntarily stroking her back with his free hand, listening to what Cole was saying to him, he wasn't sure what was better.

As long as they didn't know how deep his feelings were, they couldn't consider her as a weapon they would be able to use against him.

On the other hand, he couldn't allow them to treat her like one of the many women he fucked in the dirty toilet between one meeting and the next; he couldn't allow them to disrespect her, or worse, mock her behind her back.

To his frustration, Floris kept staring at him, fiddling with her necklace in an apparent attempt to draw his attention to her breasts: he regretted letting her suck him off once when she found him alone in one of the private rooms, regretted that for that simple relief a few months ago he now had to feel disgusted with himself, guessing that she thought his niece was as much his lover as she was.

Bullshit.

When at last everything was settled and he ordered everyone to leave them alone, he could look at her, her calm face plunged into sleep. He shook her lightly and combed her hair with his fingers, her eyelids lifting lazily, looking up at him dreamily.

"– we'll sleep here in my office and drive back to the hotel in the morning – okay? –" He whispered, feeling that when he spoke to her he was a different person.

As if he had a split personality.

His girlfriend nodded like a small child and he took her in his arms, grabbing her under her buttocks and letting her wrap her arms around his neck, walking with her down the back of the club towards the corridor where the staff rooms and his office were.

He locked them in there, wanting to make sure no one got in, and laid her down on the couch. He watched her delicate figure in thoughtfulness as he pulled his leather jacket off his shoulders, turned off the light and covered their bodies with the material, cuddling into her from behind, his hands enclosed on her breasts.

He loved how plump and soft they were under his fingers.

"– sleep – you're safe with me –" He whispered in her ear and felt her hands clamp down on his arms, holding him close, her voice like a sigh.

"– you're my Hades – and I'm your Persephone – that's how I see us –"

He froze, shocked by her words, while at the same time feeling himself grow hot: he couldn't believe how perfect a metaphor this was for their relationship.

Like him, Hades had abducted his niece, his brother's daughter, and imprisoned her in his World of the Dead.

Like him, Hades gave his wife a new name.

Rhaenys.

"– Persephone –"

He fell asleep rather quickly, tired both mentally and physically, however his dreams did not allow him to experience much rest: he dreamt that he had kidnapped her from her mother and descended with her into a dark basement, locking her in, despite her cries and despair turning the lock, thinking she would be safe with him.

He opened his eyes, terrified, when the alarm clock on his phone woke him – he rose from his seat with her, finding the switch from the lamp in complete darkness, and ran his hand over his face, thinking that he had to find a way for her not to be his hostage or prisoner.

He wanted her to be with him and he wanted her to be safe, but not at the expense of her freedom.

But how was he supposed to accomplish that?

That he didn't know.

"– I need to get a coffee at some station –" He muttered once they were in the car, starting the engine, feeling himself falling asleep in his seat. His girlfriend agreed with him and they were both silent most of the way, immersed in their thoughts.

He wondered what could be a way out of this difficult situation, proof that he didn't care about the influence he could wield over Daemon thanks to her or about making her his slave, only that she was his friend, the confidante of his secrets, his weaknesses and his worries.

And suddenly it dawned on him.

A state wedding was out of the question, because incest was illegal, but he remembered well in history situations where religious marriages had taken place between couples like them among the aristocracy in order to secure the family's fortune, they had, however, to obtain a dispensation for it.

What if they had succeeded in doing so?

If they could marry in church, be husband and wife before God?

This thought excited him so much that he felt he didn't need any more coffee, he decided, however, that he had an excellent idea where he could ask her opinion on the subject.

All he needed was an object with which to seal their decision if her answer to his fucked-up plan turned out to be positive.

Among the lollipops and sweets standing right next to the cash register, he spotted the candy bracelets that had been very popular when they were young children. He decided it might not be a ring, but it was always something, and he had no other alternative anyway.

He thought that she, of all people in the world, would appreciate his creative ingenuity.

"– look how many lollipops you have, a whole lot to choose from – I'll buy you some if you want –" He murmured, embracing her from behind, placing a soft, warm kiss on her cheek. His niece smiled broadly, snuggling into his body with a fondness from which he grew hot.

"– strawberry –" She said, and he smiled under his breath, glancing at the cashier who was waiting for them to place their order.

"– I'll have coffee, tea, two sandwiches, this strawberry lollipop and this candy bracelet –"

As they continued on their way he followed the signs to the location of the property he had inherited from his father: the notary had given him the keys to it, and although at first he felt like just throwing them out of the window, now he was glad he kept them in his trouser pocket.

"– where are we going? – you need to turn back –" Her mumbling snapped him out of his reverie, and when he glanced at her he saw that she was pale and terrified, looking at him with big eyes exactly as she had when she had woken up in his room.

She was afraid that he had deceived her again, that he would hurt her again.

He felt pain and shame at the thought, so he shook his head quickly and grasped her hand in his, wanting to reassure her.

"– no – no, baby, easy – we'll go back to the hotel, but later – there's one place I want to visit on the way – nothing bad, I promise –" He said, squeezing her fingers in his, and she didn't say another word to him, tense until she spotted the sea shoreline.

When they got out of the car he simply watched as she moved ahead of him, pulling off her shoes to sink her feet into the sand. He felt a tightness in his throat seeing her silhouette against the rising sun, thinking with regret that he had lost so many years in which he had dreamed of this moment, of them explaining everything to each other, of them talking calmly, of them being supportive of each other again.

He realised that because of her, and only because of her, that part of him from eight years ago had been preserved in his heart, the little boy locked in one of the white shells she had collected then, his hopeless attempt to prove to himself that he would see her again one day.

He moved behind her lazily, feeling the tears burning under his eyelids, the crisp sea breeze filling his lungs wonderfully – he tilted his head back, feeling strangely calm and free at the thought of what he wanted to do.

He was no longer pretending, either to himself or to her.

The way his arms embraced her from behind, the way his nose sank into her soft cheek, looking ahead at the infinite horizon, seemed so startlingly natural to him that it was even painful, the realisation that for years he had been running from this, from her, from what they could have.

"– in my fantasies, I always imagined that I would take you here again – that I would be standing with you, as I am now, watching the sun rise –" He said, smiling, letting a single tear of sadness run down his cheek, a sign of how tired and scared he was, how two parts of him were breaking him in half, unable to form one whole.

How can one destroy and create at the same time?

How can you create a healthy, happy, peaceful relationship in an environment where everything is toxic, where everyone is unhappy, where there is perpetual tension and anticipation of the next blow?

"– have you often thought about what we have lost here? –" He heard her soft, quiet voice and swallowed hard, returning his thoughts to her again, to the loud sound of the waves and the squeaking of the seagulls over their heads.

Did he often think of that?

His figure huddled in his bed, the pain in his skull after surgery so excruciating that he could only lie down and cry. The thought that he would have to wear an artificial eye, that he would have a scar on his face, that he would be disgusting made him feel like dying. He longed for her to be by his side, his friend who would know what to say, or not say anything at all but hug him, lock him in the warm embrace of her arms, letting him calm down.

His head lowered as he walked down the corridor of his school, feeling the stares of others on him, his desire to disappear, to blend into the background, to not exist. He thought that if she had been by his side, if she had chatted him up as usual, comforted him with her cheerful laughter, if she had distracted him, maybe he would have felt better, at least for a moment.

His naked body as he lay on the couch in one of the staff rooms after telling the girl he'd just banged to get the fuck out of his club, tears running down his face one after another even though his lips were clamped into a thin line. She had similar hair, similar eyes, similar figure, but her voice was different, her smell was different, her touch was different, so frustratingly foreign, unwanted, disgusting.

He looked down at her hands, his thumb running over her wrist along her scar that reminded him every day of what he had done to her.

To his friend.

"– relentlessly - it was like torture – thinking of hundreds of scenarios – what would have happened if I hadn't been your uncle, if my father hadn't been submerged in all that shit, if I hadn't lost an eye then, if Rhaenyra hadn't taken you away from there that day –" He said with a grief so deep that he felt a sting in his stomach, as if someone had stuck the tip of a knife there.

She looked at him, in her eyes everything he had always wanted: tenderness, care, comfort, affection. He leaned in and kissed her forehead, her wonderful, familiar scent filling his lungs, causing his heart to beat harder in his chest in delight.

"– I took you from your mother – I forced you to sink into the darkness with me –" He whispered, not knowing how to apologise to her for what he had indirectly forced her to do, what he had condemned her to by not being able to forget her.

"– it was my choice this time –" She said calmly, and he froze, looking at her in disbelief.

There was not a shadow of regret, shame, pain, sadness in her voice and gaze.

It suddenly occurred to him that the reason he loved her so much was that she was always able to understand him, to see behind the curtain of his words their meaning, his hidden signals that he could not otherwise make out.

He never had to pretend to be anyone in front of her, because there was no need for it: he knew that she would never humiliate him or make him sad just to hurt him.

She was full of values he cherished.

She made it so that while he was a monster he never stopped being human.

"– I want to be the father of your children – I want us to be a family – to have a home – a future –" He said in a trembling voice and knelt down slowly feeling his heart pounding like mad, thinking with fear that she would call him stupid and irresponsible, that she would refuse having every right to do so.

"– Aemond, what are you –" She uttered, but he interrupted her, afraid of what she wanted to say.

His intentions were pure, driven only by his desire that they could be together forever.

"– I want it, Rhaenys – fuck, I've always wanted it – I don't give a shit about this country, about the law, about morality, about good manners, about how and why we're related –" He mouthed with difficulty, feeling himself whooping, tears of desperation and fear welled up in his eyelids.

He felt small, he felt pathetic, he felt vulnerable, but he knew that she would never use that to harm him, that he could be that way with her, that she was his refuge, his haven.

"– but if I pay the right people, if we get a dispensation, we can have a religious marriage, the one in the church – I don't give a damn if I have to bribe the Pope himself and all the cardinals in the Vatican, I don't care how long it takes – please –" He gasped, clasping his fingers around her waist, snuggling his face into her belly, afraid to look into her eyes, afraid of what he would see there, like a child wanting to escape the consequences of his act if it turned out that she wasn't ready for it.

After all, they had only been together a month after eight years of separation.

What did they know about each other?

Could she really understand what kind of life she would face at his side?

"– yes –"

He looked at her feeling a powerful shiver pass down his spine, his mouth wide open in a heavy breath.

Yes.

No questions, no conditions, no assumptions.

Yes.

"– do you mean it? –" He muttered, shocked, and she nodded, her cheeks red with shame.

"– we've completely lost our minds –" She mumbled, and he stood up quickly, feeling euphoria and joy begin to bubble through his veins, reaching into the pocket of his leather jacket.

She laughed warmly, watching as he clumsily placed a bracelet consisting of coloured candies on her wrist.

"– what? – they didn't have rings – I had a difficult task –" He muttered, pulling her close, her body bumping against his.

Her sweet face was full of hope and desire, tenderness and trust, everything he had so longed to see since he had seen her then, on that pier.

What happened next, the time spent in his house, the lazy, sticky sex in his bed, the exact one they had slept in together when they were children seemed to him to be just a dream.

He was sure he was about to wake up, to receive a phone call from his grandfather telling him that another person had not paid on time and should be admonished.

However, neither Rhaenyra's intervention, nor later his mother's, nor their family's displeasure in general, changed the fact that they had moved in together.

For exactly this reason, he doubled all security: his men guarded his flat day and night, even more so when he had to go out to do his business and she was left alone.

As he suspected, the usual thing of moving out was not free from drama: he and his niece had to go to her family home to get her things, because Daemon would not give permission for his men to go inside.

"So I'll go in there, Dad. I'll take book by book, and they'll be waiting here."

Daemon looked at her with rage, followed by Jace, Luke and Rhaenyra trying to reason with her daughter.

"What are you doing? Have you both completely lost your minds?" She asked in despair, but it seemed to him that neither he nor his niece was any longer impressed.

"These are my things. After all, I'm alive, I'm fine. I'm tired, I just want it all to be over now."

When her things were finally moved to his flat, as he had promised, his existing gym became her room, to which only she had a key: he wanted her to feel that she had a place to escape to when she didn't want to be with him, knowing that he wouldn't invade her space.

He hoped it would never come to that, but he wanted her to feel that she had an alternative, that being with him didn't mean living the way he would expect of her at the same time.

To his astonishment, their life when it was just the two of them was surprisingly peaceful.

They didn't argue – not like he was used to – her requests or opinions opposing him didn't provoke his aggression, because she was never aggressive towards him either.

He had always admired in her this combination of empathy and assertiveness, the simultaneous ability to understand him and to be mindful of her own needs and demands, which he tried to meet.

According to their agreement, in his absence she could go out wherever she wanted, but she had to be driven and brought back by his bodyguard: he wanted to be sure that no one would try to harm her or kidnap her to bargain with him.

Exactly as he had done when they wanted to teach Daemon a lesson.

She could only go out alone on walks with Vhagar – his dog quickly got used to her presence and became protective of her, so he knew that if anyone came near his fiancée, he would probably lose an arm or a leg.

However, nothing frightened him more than calls from her.

He always felt a rush of adrenaline and fear then, convinced that something had happened.

"What is it?" He asked as soon as he stepped out into the corridor, her quiet, slightly sleepy voice answering him on the other side a moment later.

"I woke up and you weren't in bed."

He swallowed hard, thinking with regret that he just didn't want to wake her.

There was nothing more difficult for him than to get out of her warm, safe embrace at night after a phone call that something had happened, that things needed to be explained to someone again, by persuasion or violence.

"I know. I'm sorry, baby. I didn't want to wake you up. I have to stay here for at least another hour."

"Why?"

He closed his eyes, on the one hand feeling impatient, on the other knowing perfectly well that he would go mad if he were in her place.

He had promised to tell her everything.

"I have a problem with one man. We are clarifying things, but he is…reluctant. He has taken a lot of money from me, but he has not given me what I need. I have to go. One more hour and I'll be back, I promise." He whispered, feeling a squeeze in his heart at the thought that it was no answer, that it sounded awful and pathetic, that she shouldn't have to hear it.

And yet.

"Oh. Okay." She muttered, and for some reason he felt tears under his eyelids and hung up, wondering what he was really condemning her to.

It wasn't until the blade of his pocket knife was pressed against his eye that the man by whom he had to leave his fiancée in a cold bed regained his sanity and told them where he kept the goods.

His men went there and indeed, the bags stuffed to the brim with cocaine satisfied his needs, at least for a while.

He could go home.

When he went inside he saw that the television was on in the living room: he took a few steps inside, terrified, and breathed out only when he saw her figure plunged into a deep sleep, lying on the sofa with the remote control in her hand, her eyes closed, her lips slightly parted in a quiet breath.

She was waiting for him.

She waited for him to return.

He glanced at his watch and closed his eyelids, seeing that he had not kept his word.

Although he had promised it would take him an hour, it took him three.

He sighed quietly, pulling off his shoes, putting them on the floor so as not to make any noise, and walked over to her: Vhagar lying by the couch only purred something and flicked her tail at the sight of him, sleeping on, he, however, leaned over his girl's figure, gently taking her in his arms, heading with her to their bedroom.

She shuddered and looked up at him with big eyes, terrified that someone had touched her, his lips placing a quick, apologetic, warm kiss on her forehead.

"– easy – it's just me, little one –" He whispered tenderly, looking into her eyes, laying down on the bed with her.

"– you promised –" She mumbled regretfully.

His eyebrows arched in pain at her words, his broad hand stroking her soft, warm cheek.

"– I know, baby – I know – I'm here now –"

Although he knew he should just embrace her and let her sleep, something in him wouldn't let him do that: his hands pulled his Tshirt, one of the many she liked to sleep in, from her body. She grunted in displeasure, tired and sleepy, when he did the same with her panties and his own clothes, leaning over her, completely naked.

His lips placed a soft kiss on her sternum, sliding down between her breasts, to her belly and lower abdomen, down to the soft skin of her silken womanhood. She sighed and shuddered as he took her hips in his hands and spread her legs apart, letting his face sink into her soft, warm folds, smelling of shower gel and her own arousal.

"– ah –" She gasped, writhing in front of him as the tip of his tongue ran over her hard, swollen bud, and then again and again, his thumb finding her throbbing entrance, already moist and eager, merely teasing her.

"– shhh –" He hushed her, moving his face lower, clinging with his lips to her dripping slit, kissing her as if he were kissing her lips, sliding a piece of his tongue into her once in a while, barely taunting her with small, cat-like licks, each time rubbing the sweet spot inside her fleshy muscles.

"– Aemond –" She sighed, throwing her head back, her hips beginning to roll back and forth, her fingers clenching in his short hair, always, always wanting more.

"– sleep – sleep, my sweetest –" He whispered, sliding his tongue deeper and deeper between her hot, clenching walls, digging his fingers into the soft skin of her buttocks, sinking his whole face into her weeping cunt.

Her breath became heavy and hitched, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her wetness running down his chin as he defiantly, confidently and aggressively licked her with the loud clicks of his own saliva, building her way to pleasure.

"– a-ah – uncle – mghmmm – more, more, more –" She begged so sweetly, so innocently, so sincerely, that he quickened his pace, pressing his thumb against her swollen, hot clit, letting her reach her peak on his face. She cried out loudly as if he had caused her pain when she came hard, whimpering and wailing, rubbing her hips against his nose and lips.

He stood up, wiping his face and chin with his palm, rising up on his elbow, forcing her thighs to spread wider with the motion of his knee.

She moaned with exertion as the thick, throbbing head of his cock, pulsing with desire, pushed against her oversensitive entrance, still twitching from her orgasm, now even more delicate, and he forced his way deep into her slick pussy with one brutal thrust.

Tears flowed down her beautiful red face as he imposed a fast, aggressive pace on her at once, their hips all sticky with her moisture, pounding against each other with loud, perverted slaps.

"– what a fucking mess you are – and then your uncle always has to clean up after you – your cunt is leaking like a tap –" He exhaled, looking her straight in the face, fucking her in the most straightforward way he could imagine, opening her up with sharp, sure pushes of his hips.

He clamped one of his hands on her breasts, seeing them bounce before his eyes, her eyebrows arched in indecision, from her puffy lips parted wide as usual came the sweetest sounds his ears had ever heard.

"– mghm – A-Aemond – God – please, yes, right here –" She babbled, no doubt already thinking more with her convulsively twitching cunt than with her mind, her tight walls clenching around his hard erection, making him feel the familiar squeeze in his testicles, indicating that his release was about to come.

"– it's okay – it's okay, baby – you will cum for your uncle now, hm? – yes, thaaat's it – that's my girl – fuck –" He breathed out as her little pussy gave him another few squeezes, from which he simply came, moaning and panting loudly along with her, their naked bodies hot and sweaty from the exertion.

His body fell on top of hers and they continued like that for a while, focusing on the way their bodies pulsed against each other, the way they felt each other.

The way they were one.

"This is my safest place on earth. My haven. Right. Here." He whispered in her ear, rolling his hips so that he sank his half-soft manhood deeper into her.

She sighed at his words, embracing him tenderly, as was her custom stroking his hair and back as if he were a small child.

He loved her for doing this.

He loved her for knowing he needed it, even though he never told her about it.

"When you are not there, I feel emptiness. I'm only complete when you're inside me." She hummed, and he felt his manhood pulsate hard inside her at her words.

"Stop it if you want to go to sleep. Don't provoke me." He threatened and she giggled, placing a kiss on his temple, making him smile himself.

This, their nights together, their tender embrace was the peak of his dreams.

He could survive and endure anything knowing that at the end of the day he would fall asleep in her arms between her plump, sweet breasts.

Until one day his grandfather appeared on their doorstep.

When he opened the door and saw him, at first he didn't know how to act and remained silent, petrified.

"Who's that?" He heard her soft voice and heard her look out into the corridor, her sigh of dismay letting him know she was thinking the same thing as him.

His grandfather was smiling.

"I come in peace. To talk." He said softly, and he swallowed hard, looking at her over his shoulder.

He could see in the expression on her face that she was terrified, but he decided he preferred to find out what his grandfather was up to in order to be ready for what might come.

"Give us a minute. All right?" He asked, and she pressed her lips together. She nodded and went to her room without another word, closing the door behind her.

He sighed heavily and let him in, stepping deeper into the flat, his grandfather moving behind him with a light, unhurried step.

"I see there's been a little rearranging here. I'm impressed that you haven't gotten bored with your little toy yet. Are you playing house now?" Otto asked casually, casting him a look full of curiosity from above his raised eyebrows.

He looked at him indifferently, pouring himself a glass of water and remained silent, recognising that he would not be provoked.

"Tell me what you're coming with or leave. We were just about to make dinner." He said coldly, taking a loud sip from his glass.

He should have offered him something to drink out of sheer politeness, but decided he didn't give a shit.

They measured each other's eyes for a moment, and after a while Otto sighed, sitting down on the couch, spreading himself out comfortably.

"I want you to come back. On your terms. After your… argument, Aegon wishes to step back, to return to his old duties. Naturally, you will take his place. We are family, Aemond." He said, and he looked at him with a grin, feeling a wild satisfaction at the thought that exactly what he thought had happened.

The roles had changed.

Now it was he who had come to beg him like a dog.

He knew his grandfather needed him to stand up to Daemon, but he didn't know if the advantage over him would be to his liking since he was to marry his daughter.

Escalation was not welcomed by her, and he could not complain about how much he earned or the places that sustained him and his men.

He was frugal and invested his money properly, refurbishing venues, hiring marketers, buying the best goods, attracting people with the thickest wallets to his clubs.

"I watched from the sidelines what you were doing." Continued his grandfather, seeing that he had no intention of answering his appeal. "And I'm impressed. I still think the Larys case was a mistake, but I understand you: I was young and in love too. I treated you inappropriately, it's true, but enough of this insulting. If we join forces, we will conquer the whole city. We…"

"No."

Otto blinked and laughed, as if something in his words amused him.

"No, what? You despise money and influence?" He sneered.

"I have enough of them. I'm not complaining about my standard of living. On the contrary. I am content." He said with emphasis on the last sentence, drinking his water to the end, setting the glass down on the table top with a loud clink. "Is that all?"

"Is it because of her? Can't you see that she's protecting Daemon, that she'll do anything to keep you from being a threat to him? It's obvious, because she's his daughter, never mind that not a biological one. She's weakening you, and your people can see that and will use it against you." He said coldly, making him clench his jaw with rage.

"I advise you now to watch your words and what you say next." He said slowly, looking him straight in the eye.

Otto shook his head and laughed.

"You are a fool. Men like you or me can have wives and whores, but they can't love them, because that's how we make living targets out of these people."

"You didn't love my grandmother?" He growled, furious at his hypocrisy, knowing that he had never bonded with any other woman after her death, spending his life reminiscing about her.

His grandfather fell silent for a moment, something changed in his gaze.

"I did. I saw her one day in a café and thought she would be my wife. I was younger than you then. She ran away from me for a long time, but I was patient and full of sincere affection. And she finally gave in to me. Five years after our marriage, she overdosed on sleeping pills. I didn't notice when she stopped coping with what I was doing. She was always cheerful around me, but I didn't know what happened to her when I was away at night. When she woke up in an empty bed."

He stared at him dully, feeling his heart pounding in his chest like mad, his hands lying on the tabletop clenched into fists, cold sweat running down his back.

Five years after we were married, she overdosed on sleeping pills.

I didn't notice when she stopped coping.

His grandfather grinned with satisfaction seeing the look on his face.

"Do you think I'm saying all this to annoy you? That I don't desire your happiness? That I don't understand that you love and want to be loved? You are my grandson. Let her go while it's not too late. I know that…"

"No." He said, but it seemed to him that it wasn't his mind that made the word leave his mouth, but his subconscious, a little boy from eight years ago who was terrified of what he was hearing. "I tried. I can't. It's too late. Don't come here again."

"You should spare her that and learn from the mistakes of people older than yourself. It's easy to mistake selfishness for love, even more so when we love ourselves the most." Said Otto getting up from the couch but froze when he heard his voice.

"I don't love myself. I abhor myself." He said dispassionately.

His grandfather looked at him for a moment longer, then turned and headed towards the entrance door.

"We shall see."

As soon as he left, he felt a sudden surge of desire to drink alcohol, so he grabbed a bottle of whisky standing in one of the cupboards, pouring it into a glass for himself with his hand shaking with nerves.

I didn't notice when she stopped coping.

I didn't know what happened to her when I was away at night.

When she woke up in an empty bed.

He drank the entire contents in quick, deep sips and set the glass down on the countertop, trying to calm himself down.

He wasn't like him.

He shuddered as he heard the sound of the door opening again and her footsteps, after a moment feeling her presence behind his back.

"What did he want?" She asked, her tone of voice betraying that she was frustrated and at the same time horrified by his grandfather's visit.

The fact that he was trying to regain the influence he had over him.

"That I should come back. I didn't agree." He replied matter-of-factly, pouring whiskey into his glass once more, watching with blank eyes as it filled with golden liquid.

"Aemond. What happened?" She mumbled, stepping closer to him and touched his shoulder, making him tense all over.

"Are you deaf?" He asked coldly, looking at her in a way that made her eyes grow big.

He swallowed hard, feeling a sting in his heart seeing the way her eyebrows arched in pain.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the countertop when he heard her footsteps, that she had locked herself in her room, letting him know that she didn't want to see him.

He ran his hand over his face, feeling remorseful, thinking that he needed to rest and calm down after what he had heard, that once everything was settled in his head he would go to her and apologise to her for those unpleasant words.

He took a nap on the couch, not wanting to go to bed where he knew she wouldn't be. He was only awakened by the squirming of Vhagar, who poked him with her wet nose, apparently wanting to go for a walk to take care of her needs.

When he got up and glanced at his watch he saw that he had slept for two hours, but he did not feel rested at all – on the contrary, he was even more frustrated, sad and lonely.

He thought he would apologise to her, explain everything, take a walk with her and Vhagar and spend the evening watching some history TV programme.

He went to the door of her room and knocked quietly, but heard no movement on the other side.

"– baby, I'm sorry – he brought me out of balance and I took it out on you – I shouldn't have done that – it's a hard subject for me – will you join me and Vhagar for a walk? –" He asked loud enough for her to hear him.

For a long moment he got no reply and was frightened that perhaps something had happened.

Five years after we were married, she overdosed on sleeping pills.

"– I'm reading a book – I'd rather stay home –" He heard her calm voice devoid of any emotion and swallowed hard, looking down at his fingers in embarrassment.

He felt a twinge in his stomach, feeling that she had rejected him, that she was punishing him, that she didn't want him.

"– okay – we'll be back soon –" He said, but she didn't answer him again.

He hoped she would eventually leave the room on her own: when they returned with Vhagar he made dinner – her favourite casserole – and then went to ask her if she would eat with him.

"– no, thank you – I'm not hungry –"

He stood outside her door feeling his heart pounding like mad in panic.

"– are you angry with me? –"

Silence.

"– shall we watch something on TV? – I'll stroke your head afterwards before bed, just the way you like it – I'm sorry –" He mumbled out like a small child, feeling his whole body tremble in fear.

Silence.

"– I think I'd rather spend the evening here – if that's okay –" He heard her quiet, breaking voice and closed his eyes, pressing his lips together, the stinging tears under his eyelids seemed to burn him.

"– oh – okay – I'll be next door if you need me –"

She, however, did not come out to him, he was called instead by Criston Cole, who said that there had been an unpleasant incident at one of his clubs.

"Come as soon as possible. Lannister's men shot and killed a police officer who was working with us. He was our assurance that the cops wouldn't interfere with deals that are happening in two weeks. It's getting dangerous. We need to talk things through."

He hung up and hid his face in his hands, thinking that every time he thought he had it all under control, that he was holding his life together, it all fell apart in his fingers like dust.

He got up from the couch, grabbing his leather jacket and put on his shoes, glancing towards the door of her room.

"I have to go out. I don't know when I'll be back." He said aloud and flinched as he heard movement on the other side, her footsteps and then the sound of the lock being turned.

She looked out at him from behind the door with eyes red from tears, a look of horror on her face from which he felt a squeeze in his throat.

"– why? –" She asked in a breaking voice and he swallowed with difficulty, feeling the need to embrace her, to stay with her, to stroke her hair and her back, to kiss her soft face whispering to her how much he loved her.

"– the policeman who was helping us was shot – Tyland is taking revenge for what I did to him – the consequences of my actions are slowly reaching me –" He muttered, looking at her dully, feeling strangely small and weak, tired, as if he was about to fall to his knees.

"Take me with you." She whispered, looking into his eyes in a way that made him feel hot in his chest, her gaze warm and full of feeling that made him want to cry.

I didn't notice when she stopped coping.

"No. I can't. I won't make the same mistake again. The more they are aware that you are not my temporary whim, the more danger I put you in."

"Then treat me like your whore in front of them."

He looked at her with big eyes, feeling the discomfort in his stomach at her words, the cold sweat on his back.

"What did you say?" He asked, unsure if she knew what had just left her lips.

She, however, seemed strangely calm and sure, which made him feel even worse.

"Treat me as if you're bored with me. As if you hold me close just because I am Daemon's daughter. Be cold and chilly. You can hit me if you want."

"What?" He asked in pain, feeling like something was about to explode inside him. "Do you want me to do it so you can find the strength to leave me? Reassure yourself of how fucked up I am?"

"I don't want to stay here alone, wondering if you're still alive. The fear I feel then no lamp can light up." She mouthed, tears one by one rolling down her red cheeks.

He felt torn and his heart was breaking: he knew that the matter was urgent and that he should already be on his way, but on the other hand, how could he leave her like this, terrified and broken for so many hours, deaf to her pleas and needs?

What was he supposed to do?

Take her with him, continue to expose her, subject her to perpetual judgement and criticism?

Leave her, make her withdraw into herself, sink into her fear and make her his prisoner?

"– I don't know, baby – God, I have to go – I –"

"– give me five minutes –" She said and disappeared behind the door, opening her wardrobe, and he just stood there, wondering if he should leave or not, lock her up, understand that if she was going to be safe, he had to do certain things against her will.

The golden cage.

Not even a second had passed from his thoughts when he opened the front door and stepped out, closing it quickly with a lock he knew she hadn't yet made a key for, and which couldn't be opened from the inside.

He swallowed hard, feeling tears of shame under his eyelids as he heard her run to the door, her fists pounding on it on the other side, her squeal full of despair.

"– NO – NO, NO, NO, AEMOND, DON'T LEAVE ME ALONE – TAKE ME WITH YOU, PLEASE, DON'T LEAVE ME –"

He clenched his eyelids and ran down the stairs, feeling the hot tears of despair one by one run down his cheeks, the echo of her crying spreading around making him feel like dying.

He couldn't take her there.

He couldn't put her at risk.

He had no choice.

He felt himself shaking all over as he got into the car, not knowing what state he would find her in when he returned or what would happen to them next.

How was he supposed to keep her safe and free at the same time?

He closed his eyes, firing up the engine and set off ahead, not daring to look at the windows for fear he would see her weeping face there.

He drove amidst the lights and darkness of the city in complete silence, thinking that, contrary to what he thought, he was a monster, some deformed creature, a black, viscous mass, but not human.

He finally reached one of the restaurants where he met his people when the situation was out of control. Above the dining area were hotel rooms that also belonged to them, and in one of them they were all already waiting for him.

He swallowed hard when, crossing the threshold of the room, he spotted Alys spread out comfortably on a couch among several men and other women.

"How are things with the police?" He asked hesitantly, glancing at Criston, sitting down in the empty armchair opposite them.

"They're furious. They don't care who did it: they know it's the mafia and they're going to try to fuck everyone up. The deals are over. The cop is dead, so all hell is going to break loose." Said Harrold Wrestling, one of his father's most trusted men.

He pressed his lips together at his words, sighing heavily, and ran his hand over his face.

"Keep the goods safe for the next few months and don't sell them. Prepare the proper contracts, everything has to be clean. If the Inland Revenue comes with an inspection, they are not to find even one inaccuracy in the papers. Do you understand?" He asked roughly, meeting Cole's gaze.

"What about the takeover of the goods that was supposed to take place in two weeks' time? How will it pass customs inspection now? That policeman was supposed to make sure his men were on shift then." Said Criston watching as he lit a cigarette and took a drag, letting the smoke out through his nose after a moment.

"Get in touch with them. Tell the truth – they have to wait, they have to reschedule. I don't think it would suit them for our police to take an interest in their business." He said lowly, trying to look anywhere but at Alys, feeling her gaze on him.

He knew she would want to torment him, to ask him about her, about what she was like, how desperate he must have been to announce to all that she was his.

Her crying, her fists pounding on the door.

Please, don't leave me alone.

He swallowed hard, only realising after a moment that Borros Baratheon had said something to him.

"…we have only the remnants of our supplies. We can barely hold out for a week. How…"

"Am I not making myself clear? I said: no drug dealing as long as the police keep an eye on us. Nothing. You'll make it up to yourselves later." He hissed, frustrated, slapping his finger on his cigarette, causing the ash from it to fall into someone's empty whiskey glass.

"Do you know what a huge financial loss this will be for us, boy?" He asked enraged.

"We have to wait it out like a storm. The Lannisters want us to react impulsively and get scared. We must show strength and composure. Prepare for what's coming. If they want to arrest someone, let them. No standing up, no shooting, no violence. We have our lawyers, our accountants and most importantly, we have the money." He said, amazed to find that he was confident in what he was doing, feeling no fear or uncertainty.

"What about Tyland? Will you leave his provocation unanswered?" Alys asked, looking into his eyes, her bright irises seeming to sparkle uneasily, something in her gaze from which he felt discomfort.

"I'll take care of him myself." He replied coolly, looking away, feeling that she was able to read his thoughts, all his doubts and what he was experiencing within himself.

"Your last warning didn't work on him. On the contrary, he declared war on you. How do you respond to that?" Alys didn't let up, not lowering her gaze for a moment, the grin on her lips told him what she was doing.

She was teasing him.

She was trying to corner him, to force him to show his niece who he really was.

A monster.

"An eye for an eye." He said, complete silence all around him. "Is everything clear? If the police turn up at the premises you manage, don't panic. Prepare so that even if they take your laptops or phones they won't find anything on them. Make no mistake. You have my complete financial and legal support. I will get you out of any shit, but stick to the plan. Do you understand?"

The men and women around him nodded their heads.

"That's it." He said dispassionately and stood up, leaving the room filled with utter silence.

Did they believe he would succeed or did they regret their decision?

The fact that they had betrayed his grandfather.

He had to prove to them that he was strong.

That he would not allow himself to be manipulated.

When he walked into his flat at last, it was completely dark and silent. He swallowed hard when he heard Vhagar's steps coming out of her room to greet him and realised that his niece had left the door open.

He could step inside.

He quietly pulled off his shoes and jacket, walking in that direction, stroking the soft fur of his dog along the way – when he looked inside, he saw her silhouette lying on her bed, her eyes open, staring at him, large and sad, her eyelids and cheeks swollen from tears.

He felt, above all, shame, but also a strong need for her to understand that he had no choice and that he could not have acted differently.

He moved slowly towards her, after a moment being already at her bedside – when he leaned down to touch her, to stroke her cheek and kiss her, she raised herself on her elbow and pushed him away.

"– no –" She blurted out, fury and regret in her words and her gaze, her brow wrinkled in anger.

She gasped when, instead of complying with her request, he climbed onto the bed, placing his knees on either side of her body, her hands tried to push him away, but he grabbed her wrists, pressing her back against the mattress.

"– no – no, get off me – I hate you – I hate you –" She panted, breathing hard, tears one by one running down the side of her face onto the pillow under her head.

His erection swelled and ached as he pressed it between her thighs, rocking his hips back and forth, and she cried out, trying in some subconscious reflex not to open her legs to him.

One of his hands grasped her wrists and lifted them safely above her head, while the other cupped her cheeks, forcing her to look at him.

"– no –" She breathed out before he clung to her in a hot, wet kiss full of his saliva. He hissed and pulled away a little, simultaneously furious and aroused when she dug her teeth into his lower lip, the bitter taste of blood melting on his tongue.

He repeated the attempt, this time literally eating her lips with his own, feeling the wonderful pain in his cock, in his mouth, in his heart, wanting to experience the satisfaction that only she could give him. Her body, though writhing and quivering in despair yielded to him as his free hand slid down her hips, finding the space between her thighs.

She shuddered as his fingers began to wander tentatively over the material of her panties, a grimace of satisfaction flashed across his face as he felt that it was soaked through. She drew in a loud breath when, encouraged by this discovery, he pushed it aside and sank his fingertips into her silky, soft cunt.

"– you are leaking –" He murmured with delight into her throat, feeling her stop resisting him, and when his hand let go of her wrists, she immediately threw her arms around his neck.

"– you left me –" She mewled into my mouth, their lips petting and teasing each other, the tips of their tongues coming out to meet each other with lazy, lewd licks.

"– I'm back – I'm here, baby – you can let go now –" He whispered, slowly but surely penetrating her tight, throbbing slit with his finger, feeling that his manhood was about to explode in his trousers, ready to possess her, to fuck her, to make love to her.

She threw her head back with a girlish, sweet moan, exactly the way he loved it, involuntarily bucking her hips to the rhythm of his hand, her breath shaky and hitched, full of desire.

"– God, n-no –"

"– being with me, you won't know freedom – I'm not in a position to choose between that and your safety – if that's what you want, I'll let you leave – but make love to me one last time –" He whispered, joining his first finger with his second, pumping and hitting her sweet spot each time, his palm all sticky from her wetness dripping down her thighs, her muscles swollen and yawning with heat.

Her lips parted in shock at his words, the heavy tears that ran down his cheeks one by one began to drip down her face. Her fingers slipped into his hair and their lips came out against each other at the same time, catching each other in a helpless, pathetic, passionate kiss full of their sighs and their tongues, his hands sliding down to the belt of his trousers, undoing it quickly.

"– I love you – I love you, I love you, I love you –" He panted, releasing his swollen, hard erection, watching as she quickly slid her panties off her legs, with the tips of her fingers directing the fat head of his cock, leaking from his precum, into her little hole.

He opened her wide with an almost animalistic groan, thrusting into her almost immediately as if tomorrow would never come. He watched her face flooded with tears, her eyebrows twisted in a grimace of pain and pleasure, running his thumb over her cheek and lower lip, sinking into her warm, familiar flesh, feeling at peace, at home.

He sighed when she drew him close, when she clamped her fingers around his neck and forced their foreheads to press together – he seemed to smile at this gesture before they kissed again, at once like a pair of children and lovers, seeking comfort in the wonderful softness of their lips.

The pace of his hips was slow and lazy, the loud clicks of her pussy each time he sank into her fleshy core sent them into a state of ecstasy, drawing purrs and gasps of delight from their throats.

His free hand stroked her cheek, while the other slid lower, between her thighs, finding her small, swollen clit after a moment. She moaned and shuddered as if a bolt of lightning had passed through her, her hungry walls clenching against his cock aching with desire, forcing him to open her up for himself with surer, sharper pumps.

"– yes –" She whimpered into his mouth, answered by his hoarse groan, her legs crossed over his back, allowing him to finally sink into her completely, become one with her, pounding into her slick pussy with the sticky splats of their hips.

"– f-fuck, baby – oh, God, yes –" He panted into her mouth, again and again sliding his tongue deep between her teeth, all the way down her throat, in some natural, primitive reflex as a man wanting to fill her with all of himself, leaving her no room for anyone else.

A wonderful heat rippled through his lower abdomen, the tension in his testicles and in his throbbing length showing that he was nearing his fulfilment.

He breathed out loud when he heard her cry as her small, leaking cunt began to clench and pulsate against his hard manhood. When his wonderful release came at last he clamped his eyelids shut, panting hard, letting her spasming cunt suck his seed deep inside her.

He lay on top of her with his eyes closed, their arms embracing each other involuntarily, lingering in the stillness, focusing only on the quivering of their bodies, on how intimate and private the experience was, him, deep inside her.

"– my sweet baby girl – my little sunshine –" He whispered, and she swallowed hard, her cheeks hot and wet from her sweat and tears. He pressed his lips into a thin line, letting his tears join hers, letting his breath become heavy and hitched as well, their hands trailing over their bodies trying to give them comfort.

"– my grandfather – what he told me –" He whispered in her ear and she froze. "– he said that you wouldn't be able to bear this life, just like my grandmother – that you would commit suicide too – and I don't want to live in a world where you won't be there, even if you are no longer by my side –"

He cried out of helplessness, huddling in her silhouette like a small, frightened boy, because he felt lost and alone, because all he wanted was to love and be loved, because he was doing everything to make their lives good, but it wasn't enough.

He only calmed down when her gentle hand began to stroke his hair and his back, when her cheek pressed against the top of his head.

Neither of them said anything else.

He was afraid of what she might do, of the fact that she might really leave him, so his fingers clenched tighter on her body, pressing her against him, wanting only for her to stay in his embrace.

They spent the night on the bed in her room, cramped and less comfortable than the one in his bedroom, but there was something about it that reminded him of their childhood. He embraced her from behind, burying his face in the crook of her neck, placing his hands on her waist, feeling her fingers entwine with his.

And then the morning came.

When he woke up, the first thought that came to his mind was that he was cold and feeling anxious. He only understood why he felt this way when he opened his eyes and realised that she was not beside him.

He pulled himself up from his seat, feeling his heart in his throat, despair and panic guiding his steps.

Her things were still there, but she wasn't.

She couldn't take them if she wanted to escape and not wake him.

He sat on the couch in the living room, leaned over and burst out sobbing like a little boy, clenching his fingers in his hair, the pain he felt in his chest and stomach like he was having a heart attack. He drew in air with difficulty and clenched his eyes shut, whooping with his own tears.

She left.

[itstheghostofmypast]

16.51

University Student P.Seonghwa x (F)Reader

Summary: Sometimes, you just need a sugar boost and some Lego sets to make your day a bit brighter - oh, don't forget the main ingredient, Park Seonghwa.

Genre: Fluff

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.1K

Est.Read Time: 5 min

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @illusionnet

A/N: For my hardworking girlboss- @edenesth (a late bday present of sorts).

With a heavy sigh, she placed her bag on the bench before slumping down beside it. Whoever said university was fun deserved a special place in hell. Two years in, and she still had to sit on a patch of grass surrounded by her friends, all looking up at the camera with smiles that would put toothpaste ads to shame. Not to mention the endless hours of back-to-back classes, followed by the nonsensical amount of assignments and projects given to them, all made her wonder what exactly was this all for? She was not birthed to become a slave of capitalism, a slave of the system- she was but a mere butterfly, all too willing to flutter around in an endless field of opportunities, skipping from one soft petal to another, tasting the sweet essence of a blissful and youthful life.

Or she could get a rubber-clad four walled white room, at least she'd be able to pass off being delusional as a crazy person, rather than someone claiming she was so depressed she had begun day dreaming in classes. Her fingers twitched at the thought of how a few juniors caught her crying in a bathroom stall today, though they were far from cruel, their consoling words just made her feel worse- maybe she really wasn't cut out for all of this. This hectic schedule, this hectic lifestyle, these expectations.

She was so invested in falling down her pit of misery and despair that she didn't notice someone pick up her back, replacing it with their own presence, nor did she notice the way he was now staring at her, for a good long while too. Her attention was grabbed by a sharp ice-coldness that spread across her numbing cheek causing her to jerk away as she gasped, cupping her cold, wet cheek, turning to glare at whoever was foolish enough to mess with her- oh.

“You know…one bad presentation doesn't define you…wasn't even that bad.”

The rumble of his hushed voice had her senses tingle, perhaps his ASMR hobby was actually well worth it, though he was still an idiot because even a dead man could see how bad her presentation was today. She tilted her head to glare at him, but once again, her view was obstructed by a condensed plastic cup filled with some kind neon green beverage - he was probably trying out those horribly weekly juices again.

“You weren't even paying attention today,” with a soft mumble she sat back straight, her legs spread out in front of her, head leaning against the uncomfortable back of the bench, staring up at the pastel adorned sky, could this day take any longer to end? Closing her eyes, she continued, “And also, you're lucky the lecturer didn't catch you. How many times have I told you not to show up in my class? Especially if it's not your majo-ack!” she choked at the sudden intrusion, something stabbing the back of her throat before disappearing as quickly as it had come.

“Shit- sorry! Why'd you open your mouth!?” He gasped, pulling back the drink, trying to not laugh at how comical it was- yes, he felt bad because he hurt her, but it was ironic how his romantic gesture just had him blowing around.

Swatting his hand away she glared at him, at his hideously good-looking face, at his stupid boba eyes, and his hair -at this point she wanted him to trim it because he was serving more looks that needed, especially with so many people eying him. With a huff, she crossed her arms over her chest and turned to face him, “Exactly why are you here, Park Seonghwa!?”

“Me?” He pointed to himself with the cup in hand, before bringing the plastic straw to his pouty lips, taking a sip and humming, “I came to cheer up my butterfly, got her a treat too, but instead almost killed her.” With that, he 'carefully’ pressed the straw against her lips, this time being cautious not to stab her again this time. His smile deepened at the way she took a sip, watching the way her eyes twinkle at the taste, or perhaps the rush of sugar that she oh so desperately needed after the horrid day. He let her hold the cup, busy drinking away, his hand now reaching up to her face, gently caressing her cheek with his knuckles before his finger tucked the few loose strands behind her ear, “I'm sorry today didn't work out as planned.”

Placing the empty cup between them she sighed, facing him with a small smile, thankful to have someone like him, to have someone like him take care of her, be there for her, smile at her, pull her up when she was down I the dumps, have her try new things- like this Kiwi and Pineapple juice. He may have been a bit thick skulled sometimes, sometimes his inner nerd would win as hed demand they build random lego sets in the middle of the night, or he'd force her to watch him play Animal Crossing- but one thing for was for sure, reaching forward she placed her hand on his, giving it a light squeeze.

“It's alright…I'm glad you were there, it made me feel better.”

At that, he tugged her closer, pulling her into his warm embrace, giggling when he felt her sigh into his neck, gripping his shirt as if she was afraid he'd disappear. Truthfully, even during the whole mess of her presentation, the only reason she had kept going was because he was there, smiling at her, silently rooting for her, encouraging her to go on- then instantly hiding when her lecturer turned around to look at whom she was staring at, her handsome, caring, loving clown.

“I'm glad it did because I missed a test today, so at least I know it was for nothing.” He hummed, chin atop her head, enjoying the moment -

“YOU WHAT!?” Shoving him away, she glared at him wide-eyed, a test!? He skipped a test to be there!? She wasn't sure if she were to find this romantic or just stupid-

“Oh my, would you look at the time!” Standing up, he grabbed her bag, slinging it over his shoulder, grabbing the empty cup before gripping her wrist with his free hand and pulling her up, “Let us go, fairy princess!! Time to build your castle lego set! SO WE CAN HAVE OUR HAPPILY EVER AFTER FOREVER!” He declared ragging her along ignoring her complain about him not taking his academics seriously- who cared about a stupid test, he'd make up for it with extra work, all Park Seonghwa could think of all day, was her, because if he was sure about anything about his anxious, doubtful, self-conscious existence, was that she was his reason of being.

Taglist: @edenesth @skteezcursed @mlysalt @the-kpop-simp @spooo00oky @bunnyluvr25 @s-h-y-a @ateezswonderland

[persevereforahappyending]

No Man's Land |11|

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Sam can’t help but be drawn to the cute stranger from her gym, even if everything about them makes them the perfect suspect, just when Ghostface has returned.

Warnings: Talks of injuries, talks of killing, talks of attack

Word Count: 2.7k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

You sat on a bed in the ambulance as you got stitched up, again. For the second time, in one day, you had to have your wound from the previous day restitched, then on top of that you needed the wound on your leg stitched. For once you got lucky and the cut on your arm didn’t go deep enough for stitches, the medic just cleaned it and wrapped it.

Much to Sam’s displeasure you refused to go to the hospital, again. You were fine though, you had a slight limp at the moment but once you got used to the pain, you’d be fine, you just needed to walk it off. Besides, you couldn’t waste time going to the hospital, it would take too long and two attacks in a day meant Ghostface could do it again. You weren’t about to leave Sam and her friends alone just to get properly patched up.

You hopped out of the ambulance with a groan, clenching your jaw as you tried not to focus on the pain that radiated throughout your leg. You walked off, trying not to flinch with each step. You looked down, pulling at your shirt as you took in the new blood stain from your torn stitches, which wasn’t nearly as bad as the blood on your pants from that stab wound. If people didn’t know you had literally just been attacked, they’d probably assumed you committed a murder.

“Survived to tell the tale again,” Kirby said, approaching you just like last time. “Seems Ghostface got some hits in,” she tilted her head, gesturing at the bandage on your arm.

You held up your arm, giving the bandage a look, then scoffed. “Cheap shots,” you said with an eye roll.

Kirby gave a knowing hum. “That’s how he does things.”

“I’m learning that,” you mumbled.

You would be prepared next time. The first time, you didn’t have anything, but you caught him off guard, until the second one appeared. The second time you were caught off guard, forced to run into a territory filled with civilians, you won that one, but you didn’t finish the job. And now the third time, you were once again caught off guard, without weapons, your only priority had been to make sure the others got away, taking Ghostface out was your second priority. The fourth time would be different, you would make sure of it. The next time you went up against Ghostface would be the last, for every single one of them.

“You got everyone out,” Kirby said, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“Not everyone,” you whispered. You looked across the way where you saw the coroner wheeling Quinn’s body out on the stretcher. A sheet was covering her face, but you knew she was under there. Bailey looked distraught as they stopped next to him, allowing him to say goodbye one last time.

You narrowed your eyes, Bailey was crying over his dead daughter, there was nothing out of the ordinary, it was the reaction anyone would expect from a father. Bailey had been the first on the scene this time, by several minutes before anyone else, as if he was already on his way there. There was a chance that was the case, he could have been coming by to see his daughter or update everyone on the case. There was something tugging at the back of your mind though, telling you not to take it at face value, Bailey was the last to arrive after the bodega attack, but the first on the scene to the apartment, which happened to be when his daughter was murdered.

You furrowed your brow; you and the girls had gone back to the apartment right after the attack. The only person who had left the apartment was Ethan, you knew the twins wouldn’t let some random stranger into the apartment, besides Quinn’s hookup, who was found dead in the bathtub. That meant Ghostface had to either have been in the apartment the whole time, which was improbable, there was no way he could have stayed hidden for so long. The other option was that he got in another way, possibly through one of the windows, which meant he had to climb up the fire escape. Your eyes tracked the fire escape from the ground up to where you knew Sam’s apartment was. The ladder wasn’t pushed down but the dumpster was close enough that if Ghostface jumped up on it he could have pulled himself up onto the ladder. It still should have made enough noise for someone to notice, but no one did, not until the phone call came in.

“I should get to work,” Kirby said. You nodded and watched her walk off towards the crime scene.

You looked around the area, seeing Chad with Mindy as she got patched up in the back of another ambulance. A medic checked out Anika right outside the ambulance, but you knew the worst Anika probably had was a concussion from being slammed into the wall. Sam and Tara weren’t too far from the ambulance as they talked to an officer. You noticed Danny standing off to the side by the gate and decided to walk over to him.

“Hey,” you said, giving him a nod.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, nodding at your arm.

“It’s nothing,” you waved it off.

“Almost bleeding out it my apartment doesn’t seem like nothing.”

You chuckled, you couldn’t help but nod. The cut on your arm and the tearing of your stitches really was nothing. The real issue was the stab wound on your leg, the knife had gone deep and was bleeding quite a bit before the medics got to you. Honestly, if you didn’t get help when you did you would have most definitely bled out, not that you were going to mention that to Sam or anyone else, but it was definitely something you should have gone to the hospital for.

“I just wanted to thank you,” you said. “That ladder stunt was crazy,” you smiled, shaking your head. “But it was fucking brilliant man.”

Danny chuckled and scratched the back of his neck like he was embarrassed. “Me? What about you?” he gestured at you. “Jumping from the middle of the ladder? Now, that,” he pointed at you. “That is fucking insane.”

You couldn’t argue with him there. That was one of the craziest stunts you had ever done, and you had jumped out of planes and helicopters before, though you always had a parachute. You were bleeding out, the ladder was unstable, if you had missed, if you didn’t fall to your death, you probably would have broken most of the bones in your body.

“Do you need a change of clothes?” Danny’s question caught you off guard. “I got some you could borrow since you look…” he gestured at all of you. You looked down at your bloody self, you wouldn’t be able to go back to your house and change again.

“Thanks,” you said. “But I got some in my car,” you pointed to your vehicle down the street. “But can I change in your apartment?” Danny nodded.

You made your way over to your car, fighting through the pain that shot through your leg at every step. You opened the back door and unzipped the duffle bag you kept back there; you made sure to always have a change of clothes and anything else you would need in your car. You grabbed your spare plain black t-shirt and black cargo pants. You were sure you’d look rather intimidating walking around in all black, but you needed to be ready for a fight.

You followed Danny up to his apartment, grimacing at the pool of blood on his hard wood floor. You would have to make sure to pay to get that cleaned up, you knew how hard blood was to get out of things. The cops had walked the apartment when they first arrived but because the attack didn’t happen there, they finished up after a few minutes and made their way over to the actual crime scene.

You made your way into Danny’s bathroom to quickly changed. You pulled off your bloodied shirt and had to do a double take when you caught site of yourself in the mirror. You were in great shape, spending most of your time training, when you weren’t deployed, but your body had been through a lot. The stab wound on your side and the cut down your arm was nothing compared to the rest of you. Even the wound on your leg didn’t seem like much. Your body was litter with scars from knife and gun shot wounds, all the times you almost died. You subconsciously brought a hand to the tattoo over your heart, it was the insignia of army special forces, with the initials of your teammates throughout. As your finger brushed over the tattoo you could feel the scar underneath, the bullet that should have killed you.

You shook your head, pushing the memories down as far as they would go. You couldn’t be thinking about that, Sam needed you at your best, you couldn’t let your own trauma get in the way of that. You gripped the sink until your knuckles turned white and kept your eyes pinched shut until you had completely pushed everything away. When you looked up again, you recognized the soldier in the mirror, the one that would do whatever it took to make sure the mission succeeded and right now the mission was saving Sam and her friends. You quickly threw on the clean clothes and made your way back down to the others.

“You fuck with my family, you die,” Bailey said just as you walked out of the apartment.

You furrowed your brow as he talked to Sam. You knew he was upset; it was natural for a father to want revenge on his daughter. However, it hadn’t even been an hour since Quinn was killed, it didn’t make sense for him to be so cold and logically already.

You made your way over to Sam and Tara’s side just as Gale Weathers walked up. “I’m glad you’re okay,” Gale said.

“Don’t even start,” Sam snapped.

“I’m not here for that.” Her gaze flicked to you; you could tell she still wanted to ask you questions but she didn’t.

“Bullshit.”

“Truly,” Gale tried again. “Off the record,” she rolled her eyes. “I found something you’ll all want to see.”

Gale didn’t say what she wanted to show everyone, she just said it was connected to Ghostface. Sam and Tara began gathering the others, you couldn’t help but furrow your brow when Ethan appeared. Chad kept flicking a glare at him, you weren’t sure what happened while you were changing but if Chad was suspicious of Ethan, then whatever happened certainly couldn’t have been bad. Once everyone was gathered you all made your way to the location Gale sent.

You stood close to Sam as everyone gathered at the front of an alleyway, as Gale explained the two kids from Tara’s class who were killed rented the building. It was broad daylight, making an attack unlikely but not impossible. Attacking someone during the day was a risk, higher probability of being seen, but it was unexpected, it was a way to catch the target off guard.

Gale and Kirby argued over how Gale found the place. You knew Gale was a good reporter and reporters had the habit of finding things they shouldn’t, but the fact that Kirby didn’t know the place existed was concerning, considering she was in the FBI and specialized in Ghostface cases. You glanced over everyone else, Chad stood next to Ethan, who had his hands shoved in his pockets, looking uncomfortable and out of place as usual. Mindy had her arm wrapped around Anika, whispering something in her ear. Anika hadn’t said a word since the attack, she just had a distant look in her eyes as her entire body shook. You had seen that look plenty of times, in soldiers after their first fight, in survivors after an attack, it wasn’t easy to get past, but everyone did eventually, with time.

You followed the group down the alley, with Gale leading the way. Gale swiped a card, unlocking a large metal door at the end of the alley. The door led down a dimly lit hallway, the dated red wallpaper was peeling, revealing the stained drywall underneath. You looked down, there was a thin dark red carpet to match the wall, though you could feel how sticky it was every time you lifted your foot. You came to a stop, furrowing your brow as Gale swung open a door and stepped into a metal cage of some sort, before swiping the card again and opening another metal door.

“What is this place?” Mindy asked.

“Just wait,” Gale said, before disappearing. She walked off to the side, a second later there was a loud click that echoed throughout the room, and then all the lights came on.

You couldn’t help the way your mouth fell open, it was some sort of old movie theater. “It’s a shrine,” Gale said as she rejoined the group. You looked around, seeing she had flipped the breaker.

“Holy shit,” Mindy whispered.

The theater was filled with display cases, all of them full of stuff you assumed was from previous Ghostface attacks. It even seemed that whoever created the shrine dressed up mannequins in the actual clothes from the killers and victims, at least that’s what you gathered from the bloodstains on the clothes in question. All the displays led straight to the stage, and in center stage was a set of nine Ghostface costumes, each of them in their own special display case.

You walked through the displays, your eyes scanning over all the information. You had heard bits and pieces from the news over the years, but you never knew it was anything like this. Whoever these new people were, they clearly had done their research, they seemed to have planned everything quite thoroughly. Everything from all previous Ghostface attacks was in one room, that definitely wasn’t a coincidence, you knew something bigger was at play, everything was too easy.

Kirby said she had been investigating the two college kids, they were stupid enough to get on Kirby’s radar before they ever even killed someone. Yet, this place was apparently theirs and hidden so well even Kirby couldn’t find it. On top of that, even if they were rich kids, there seemed to be too much evidence, there was no way they got everything by simply bribing cops.

You stopped at one of the displays, there were sketches of Sam and Tara. You figured it must have been from the attack last year. In the display was also crime scene photos, and photos of Tara. You flicked your eyes to Tara as she made her way up the stage towards her sister, just based on the photos she had endured one hell of an attack. Your eyes then fell on a picture of some guy, smiling at the camera, the nameplate at the bottom read ‘Richie Kirsch’ Sam’s ex-boyfriend. You wrinkled your nose at the picture, you didn’t know the full story, didn’t know anything about the guy, but you didn’t like him from a simple photo.

“So, what,” Chad said. “Someone killed these guys and took over?” you made your way up to the center of the stage where everyone else had already gathered.

“If this were a normal Stab movie,” Mindy said. “This would be the killers lair.”

“But this isn’t a normal Stab movie,” Kirby said.

This wasn’t a movie at all. You might not have been used to this whole thing, but you didn’t get all the movie references. This wasn’t a movie, even if some psycho was inspired by a movie, this was real life, real people died, and Ghostface was just a normal guy behind a mask. You wouldn’t deny that the place certainly looked like a lair, they were definitely right about that part. The idea that two kids created the whole space, only to end up dead and have someone else take up the Ghostface mantle and know about this room just didn’t seem plausible. All your senses were telling you to take nothing at face value, that there was something deeper going on.

Taglist: @thatshyboy1998 @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @acutenobody @godamnityess

@luvwanda @rqizzu @riyaexee @bella423 @rayisaknight

@assgradiangod @canyonyodeler

[little-forest-goblin]

Forget-me-nots

(In this Five x lila never happened. They only sibling bonded in that damned subway. also in this they didnt cease to exist and become marigolds they ended up going into a different timeline with none of there powers even existing)

Synopsis: After the cleanse everyone had ended up forgetting who they were in the messed up timelines and lived normal lives. But what happens when you remember your husband that doesn’t quite remember you.

———————————————————————

———————————————————————

Well this is an interesting turn of events.

You always did feel like something was off. Like something was missing but now knowing you were right is quite freaky to say the least. As a kid you wondered why you had strange dreams. dreams of another life. When you were a kid you’d lay down in your little bed tucked in cozy and snug and look out the window at the stars and moon until you would sleep and then the odd dreams would start. You would always ask your mom about it but she would tell you that its your imagination and that its just dreams and nothing to worry about but every night its like you were in another world. You began to look forward to these dreams brushing your teeth and hopping into bed as quick as possible. There was one thing that kept you coming back. Him. The boy in your dreams. As you grew up he grew up with you in the dreams. You and him got closer in the dreams. When you were younger you found it odd that his name was a five hargreeves. like the number five. you asked him about it but he never did give a straight answer. Either way you and him had your fun pissing off the father in your dreams, reginald. You hated that man even though he was just in your dreams. You hated how he treated vanya(viktor) but you were powerless against his cruel gaze and sharp words.

Around when you turned 13 your dreams took a turn. You and five had crushes on each other and were together all the time. One day in your dreams at the dinner table everyone was eating and doing their own things. Reginald was at the head listening to the record, luther and allison where giving eachother goo goo eyes, klaus was probably rolling a joint under the table, vanya(viktor) ate quietly trying to avoid any scrutiny from reginald, diego was also silently eating and ben was casually reading. Suddenly five took his knife and stabbed it into the table. reginald looked at him “Number 5?” he said in that monotonous tone of disinterest and mild annoyance. “I have a question.” Reginald looked back down at his food “Knowledge is a admirable goal, but you know the tules no talking during mealtimes. You are interrupting Herr carlson” Five looked over at you and you gave him a look basically telling to ‘please tread lightly we both know how father is’ five smiled softly at you before looking back over at reginald with annoyance “I want to time travel” reginald shook his head softly using that damned tone “No” five was quick to answer “But im ready” he pushed out of his chair slowly making a light wood on tile scrape “I’ve been practicing my spatial jumps, just like you said” to prove it he demonstrated said spatial jumps by appearing next to reginald at the head of the table “See?” reginald sighed and picked up his glass “A spatial jump is trivial when compared to the unknowns of time travel one is like sliding along the ice, the other is akin to descending blindly into the depths of the freezing water and reappearing as an acorn.” you silently looked and saw vanya(viktor) silently shaking her head telling him that its not a good idea to continue with this. you must’ve missed some of the conversation cause soon five over to you taking your hand and walking outside pushing open the gate and walking down the street. you were a little shook “Five, what are you doing?” you asked with concern. he didnt look at you and kept walking straight ahead. “We are going to time travel.” you were gonna protest saying what if reginald might be right which he of course countered saying that reginald was mean old bastard and that he doesnt know what he is talking about. You finally agreed and nervously but excitedly jumped with him. you were amazed by the things you saw. you looked around at what is the city but in a different time with a big smile. you laughed as you jumped again and he smiled at you with a small blush tinging his cheeks that you didn’t notice considering you were looking around eventually they jumped into the winter time. you gave a small yelp at the suddenness of the cold and laughed with him as he chuckled at your yelp and then you humped again and were plunged into a hellish landscape. the world destroyed. Fires that burned and raged on. Buildings crumpled and destroyed. dust and smoke lay thick in the air. “F-Five! what happened?! whats going on?!” you panicked and looked to him. he looked just as confused and worried as you “I-I dont know! hold on im getting us back home!” he tried to use his time traveling powers but it just didnt work his hands glowed blue ans crackled to life but it just wouldn’t work. you and him panicked and you and him ran back to what was once the academy. there you saw it crumpled and you saw him fall to his knee’s in shock and distraught. you came over to him and held him even though you were shaking and panicking yourself you tried to help him the best you could.

From that day on your dreams had changed significantly. Every night your dreams felt like years. you and him trapped in that apocalyptic hell surviving on what you can whether its bugs and rotten food. sickness and weariness. you both had each other and thats all that you needed. You and him grew closer in the dreams. Eventually when you were both around the age of 18 you and him officially dated. You and him together and your love uniting you two to be a surviving duo. Though you wished the situation was different but you are glad you could do it with him. you both even made a good friend named dolores. God she was great funny and had a kind heart and had sass to her. Eventually when you where both in your mid twenties you and him had been dating for 6 or 7 years you and him married. He had made matching wedding rings he had made for the metal scrap. it was beautiful and you said yes immediately. You and him were now Mr and Mrs hargreeves. Dolores was the biggest supporter of this happening. Now you wish you could say the dreams didn’t affect you in the waking world but oh they did. You felt wrong every time you had a boyfriend or girlfriend cause you felt like a married woman and hell you even caught yourself saying ‘me and my husband’ a few times which threw people off and you’d have to correct yourself apologizing and making up any excuse that fit. Either way you felt dirty and disloyal for dating so you stayed single and waited till night to be by your husband again.

Eventually at a certain point in the dreams you and him grew old and eventually the handler came along recruiting you and him into the commission to be assassins. He never stopped writing in that journal of his to help you and him leave this and go back home. Eventually you and him did it and got home and to summarize that apocalypse after apocalypse after apocalypse until you and him were older and he worked for the CIA and lila and diego and all that. Until one day everything clicked in place after a certain dream of being in the cleanse and letting the universe reset and it felt like your life now and the dreams collided into one being merging into you until you woke with a start with a remembrance of everything. Holy shit those aren’t dreams those are real. That was your life. Its like realization hit you like a truck. No wonder you never dreamed of anything else. No wonder you had trouble getting in relationships. No wonder something felt missing but felt right when in the dream.

For a while you fell into this depression missing your husband and missing being with and around him. Missing the small things and missing the shared moments whether it was comfortable silence. One day you were out getting coffee at a coffee shop cause you just needed something to wake you up before heading to work. you walked out the shop and accidentally bumped into someone. You paused and turned to them “Oh my god im so sorry!” the man turned to you and you felt goosebumps down your legs and spine. It was five your beloved husband. You stared in shock and he looked at you and fixed his suit “Its alright. I should’ve been more careful.” He seemed to avoid your eye as he fixed his suit not looking at you at all until he walked away without giving a glance. you stared dumbfounded as he walked and turned the corner. You stood for a moment considering following him but your rational thought told you thats a bad idea cause you’ll look like a creep but eventually the desperation got to you and you followed after him making sure to try and stay hidden. God you felt like a creep but you just needed to know.

Eventually you found he lived in an apartment building a few blocks from your own. why you never saw him? you don’t know. Either way when you got home you tried to figure out a way for him to maybe recognize you. Did he remember you? Did he also have what he thought were dreams? You thought for days until you got an idea and you rushed grabbing your purse and keys and headed out to your car.

~Fives POV~

Its been a few days. A few days and that strange woman wont leave my head. Its been tearing me apart. Who was she? why does she seem familiar? When she bumped me why did my skin tingle and alight like a fireplace having a lit match thrown in. For days now i’ve been sitting and pondering about her but i’ve tried in vain to make her leave my head. I’ve tried to distract myself to no avail. Its a Saturday afternoon and its oddly peaceful. Im making my normal cup of coffee though i should drink water. I can hear her in my head telling me to drink water instead of so much coffee all the time. I smile softly looking back at the dreams. I look at my ring finger seeing the ring i made in my dreams. I couldn’t bare to part with it i had to make it. I wanted her to be real and put that ring on her finger all over again but in the waking world. Suddenly a knock at the door interrupt my thoughts. I groan and went to the door. Who is here at this time of day? i look through the peephole seeing no one. odd. i open the chain lock and look around seeing nobody until i look to the floor and there laid a bouquet. Not just any bouquet its full of scorpion grasses or more commonly known as forget me nots. where did i read or learn about this? i have no clue. wait where did i learn this? I look at there blue color and then suddenly there’s a throb in my head and i remember something in my dreams. Forget me nots… the untouched field…his proposal…

With shaking hands i picked up the bouquet and looked at it gently feeling one of the petals. I remember that day like it was yesterday.

~in the “dream”~

The sun beat down on you and him. Thankfully there was a light breeze and they had gotten to a more rural area. countryside if you will. the years they spent here cause the plants to come back but in full force growing over things and vining up walls and over bricks and glass. You and him carefully were searching the ruins of the house careful for glass and rust. Five called to you “Careful for any glass, love!” you chuckled and looked to him as he searched under some bricks of what used to be a kitchen portion of the small farmhouse “You act as if we haven’t been doing this since we were 13.” he gave a lopsided smile and stood up from his crouched position “Yes but i also remember you distinctly cutting your arm on some collapsed metal rafting after i told you to be careful for them.” you looked at him in amused disbelief “That was one time! one time! You still hold that over my head?!” you laughed in amusement and incredulously. he put his hands in his pocket and walked closer to you “Not holding over your head, love, just watching out for my clumsy girl and no its been multiple times now.” he stopped infront of you with a smug but loving look. You were about to protest but opted to stay quiet and continue you and his search for sustenance all while grumbling about how yo it not all THAT clumsy. He laughed amused by your silence “What was that love?” you looked to him and narrowed your eyes playfully “Shouldn’t you be helping me out here?” he chuckled and went over to the kitchen to search cabinets. After some time of you searching with no avail you stood dusting your gloved hands off and looked around till you looked out a broken window to behind the house seeing a field. you curiously went to the unhinged door and stepped through to find a flower field. A field of forget me nots. You took in the beauty. it’s been a while since you saw beauty such as this in a dead end world. You smiled walking of the old porch and into the middle of the field and laid down in the middle of it smiling closing your eyes and sighing. Meanwhile five had found some food in a cabinet and thank god for it being unopened canned food and not twinkies. he shudders when he thinks of that. he calls to you “Babe! i found some food. We even got some canned pie filling. i call dibs on…” he trails off when he doesnt hear you answer. he turned his head and walked to the once was the living room. “Babe?” he looked around till he saw your figure laid in the field. he smiled and went out the back door and went to you standing over you. “enjoying yourself, love?” you opened your eyes looking up at him smiling and nodded. he chuckled and looked around at the peace and serenity of the moment. he looked back to you and decided now was the tight time. “Babe, i wanna ask you something.” you furrowed your brows a little and sat up “What is it baby? something wrong?” he chuckled and smiled and watched as you stood “No nothing wrong infact better then ever.” he took your hand kissing the top of it then bringing your hand over his heart. “My love, you have been the best thing to happen to me. Before dating, before getting stuck in the apocalypse and before things went to shit. I love you and always will. You have been the best thing to happen to me.” your eyes went a little wide as he lowered to own knee “Five…” he smiled up at her pulling out the ring that was to fit her finger “Y/N L/N will you be my wife?” you smiled and tears fell down he cheeks and she nodded “Yes!” she leaped on him in a hug laughing he felt relief flood him like a tidal wave. he hugged you back tightly till he pulled back and took your hand sliding the ring on your fingers and kissing you to seal the deal.

~End of “Dream”~

He was wide eyed shocked as dreams collided with reality and realization hit his face “Oh my god….”

~Your POV~

you where hiding as you watched him from the door. a little stalkerish? yes. then again thats your husband and it seems as though he is remembering. You smiled as everything went according to plan now all you had to do was walk out and reveal yourself but sadly your shoe laces had come undone and you fell out in the open with a ‘Umph’ you groaned and sat back up “Ow son of a bi-“ you then remembered and looked to five who was looking at you with shock and love and desperation. “babe…its you…Y/N” you looked to him nervously swallowed and nodded “Five?” you and him felt whole again seeing eachother but the desperation to be closer pulled you in and you ran into his arms as fast as you had fallen. You peppered his face in kisses “Oh i never thought i’d see you again! I thought i’d be destined to be alone.” he chuckled and held you close then captured your lips in a tender kiss till he pulled back and laid his forehead on his. his hands on either of your cheeks. “I cant tell you how much i missed you.” She smiled and held his own face between her hands. “I love you five” he smiled and kissed you again pulling back softly “I love you too”. Everything my felt right again. Whole. Complete. You had your husband back and he had his wife back. For the rest of the day both you and him where wrapped up in each others arms. embraced. Catching up with whats been going on and laid down in bed kissing and cuddling. Everything was as it should be.

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Hey y’all i hope you guys liked this story! Im not to good at writing but I’m trying my best. I hope you enjoyed and hope you have a good day ❤️

P.S sorry for any grammatical errors

[a-leg-without-fear]

You Can Sleep Here Tonight🪻

my baby.... i love van helsing SO MUCH!!!! this movie is honestly top 10 for me

Ship: Gabriel Van Helsing x f!Reader

Rating: 13+

Wordcount: 1.2k

Warnings: violence, use of acid, monsters, stabbing, blood, bit of flirting

Series: Leg's Tuna Tober

Black quills soared over Gabriel's head as he barely dodged the onslaught. Barb after barb whistling through the air just past his left shoulder. A rough grunt coughed up his throat as he stood from the cobblestones.

He was met by the long arc of claws slashing at his chest. Arms with three, long talons hooked at the ends whirled at Gabriel. The hunter backed away on light feet. Snarls from his foe echoed around the brick alley Van Helsing had found himself in.

Lean muscles along his thigh stretched when he planted a strong kick to the chupacabra's abdomen. Its reptilian skin offered little to no rebound, its hide as thick as tanned leather. Large, black, soulless eyes reflected Gabriel's harrowed expression back at him. Three elongated teeth dripped slobber onto his boot.

A slash at Gabriel's foot made him pull away. He made a mental note to thoroughly scrub his boots later. The brick wall dug into the material of his coat as he backed up from the chupacabra. His mind raced with thousands of ways to advance this fight, to come out victorious.

The chupacabra crouching in preparation to charge dashed any swirling thoughts from Gabriel's mind. He watched, anticipation burning under his skin, as the creature readied itself to launch. One moment, two, then it leaped.

Gabriel rolled out of the path of the monster. Stones scraped along the leathers he'd adorned himself with. His head snapped up, long hair falling away from his face in strands of chestnut, as he watched the chupacabra. The creature collided with the bricks in a loud thud. Barely audible crunches crackling along the strong bones running through its body.

It fell to the ground in a heap of leathery skin and black quills. Van Helsing scrambled to his feet, gloved hands digging into his coat pockets. He backed a healthy distance away.

Finally. His fist produced a glass vial from one of his lapel pockets. Palm sized, glass clouded, filled with a viscous grey liquid. The cork plugged into the neck was primed to pop off with the slightest touch.

"Look out!" Gabriel heard you shout from the mouth of the alley. He looked up just in time to see the chupacabra reorient itself towards him, fangs dripping onto the stones. Its claws dug deep gouges into the ground as it galloped towards the hunter on all fours.

Van Helsing reared back, vial grasped in his large hand, before he flung it at the monster. The glass sailed through the air in a short arc, moonlight glinting off the projectile.

Glass shattered against the chupacabra's broad chest. The impact was immediately met with a sickening sizzle as the liquid burned into the creature's hide. Smoke poured from the rapidly growing hole in its thick skin. Yellow, stringy flesh emerged from beneath the leathery hide.

The monster howled as it collapsed to the ground. Ear-piercing shrieks and loud bellows shot from its toothy maw. Its clawed appendages thrashed around in agony.

"The stake! Now!" Gabriel exclaimed in your direction. Silver flashed as you scooped the stake off the ground, the metal rod clutched in your shaking hands.

He snatched it out of the air after you lobbed it in Gabriel's general direction. The hunter approached the monster, looming over the flailing beast like a jagged mountain over a desolate valley.

Flesh squelched when the stake was jabbed into the chupacabra's chest. One last shriek erupted from the creature's mouth, the silver finding its mark in the monster's heart, before it went deathly still. Its hide continued to hiss in the quiet, night air.

For the first time since the fight had started, Gabriel allowed himself to breathe. Acrid smoke rising from the chupacabra's body burrowed into his sinuses. He winced, standing from the creature's body and pulling his mask down before the smell got a foothold in the fabric.

"Th-Thank you," you stammered from across the alley. The hem of your dress was in tatters, thanks to the now dead creature at Van Helsing's feet, and a slash through the bodice left bits of your chest exposed. Trembling arms clutched at the torn fabric to keep it in place.

"Are you alright?" Gabriel asked, stepping around the carcass in your direction. His drying boots clipped along the cobblestones. He stopped short of where the alley ended and you stood, just beyond the entrance. Passing coaches and glowing streetlamps painted the world behind you in picturesque strokes.

"I'm fine, thanks to you. What was that thing?" you questioned. The tremor had abandoned your voice, leaving a strong timbre in its place. You peered over Gabriel's shoulder at the still-smoking body.

The hunter smirked, stepping back on his heel, "A chupacabra. Unfortunately common in these parts," he began. He pivoted to face the creature in question. He felt your stare as he walked back to his quarry, "Got reports of drained livestock and missing children in this area. So, the Church sent me to handle it. This was the last one in the nest I found a few days ago. Managed to slip away before I could kill it."

You watched with wide eyes as Van Helsing yanked the stake from the chupacabra's disintegrating body, "You do this often?"

"More often than I'd like," he replied easily. Liquid flesh sloughed off the silver when he shook the stake. Splashes of off-yellow covered the stones in a disgusting splotch of sizzling meat. The hunter remained unphased by the abhorrent display.

"What was in that vial you threw?" you asked, continuing your interrogation. Gabriel sighed as he stood, turning back around to face you.

"A mixture of boiled chupacabra quills and holy water. Only that combination is enough to burn away its thick hide. Then, one quick stab with some silver, and it's dead. Satisfied?" he explained with annoyance dripping from his tone.

You blew a sigh at a strand of hair covering your face, "I suppose I am, Mr.Monster-Hunter. You got a name?"

"Van Helsing," Gabriel answered. He tucked the stake back amongst the copious pockets lining the inside of his coat. The silver slid into place along three other stakes of similar size.

"Well, Van Helsing. Do you have somewhere to stay tonight?"

His hazel eyes widened as they met yours, "What?"

"Seeings as you just saved my life, I figure that I at least owe you a meal and a comfortable bed," you explained, shrugging.

"That's really not necessary," Gabriel said with a grunt, trying to brush past you. A push of your hand on his chest kept him in place.

"I owe you my life. Please, let me at least try to return the favor?" you pleaded. He couldn't help but feel entranced at your kind expression. Wide eyes glistening in the moonlight, plump lips beckoning him closer, soft hand pressed against the skin above his heart.

The hunter let a genuine smile tug at his lips. What harm could come from a meal? He hadn't eaten anything hot in several days. Just foraged roots and berries he'd managed to find as he tracked the chupacabras. He deserved a break, a reward for his service to the Church.

"Alright," he relented, voice barely louder than a murmur. A grin wisped across your face like a summer breeze.

"Perfect! Follow me, Mr.Van Helsing."

i want to kiss his silly face and tell him i love him

taglist: @just-a-nightdreamer @venomqueen2002 @c1eepypas1a @www-interludeshadow-com

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[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet Cute - Law's Story - 14

Source for pic

The Great Pretender 14 🔞

Word Count: 4413

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Law is a soft dom; you have bratty tendencies (not all the time); voice kink; praise kink; cursing; very suggestive behaviour and innuendo from the start; sexual tension; teasing; so much flirting; romance; slow-burn; fluff; slight angst; mature audiences (though explicit NSFW moments will be properly tagged on the chapter); possessive Law; protective Law; soft Law; teasing Law; manipulative Doflamingo; inappropriate Doflamingo; fake relationship trope; only one-bed trope; reader has some anxiety issues; reader is a control freak and perfectionist; modern day AU; Mention of ex mentally abusive relationship;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Law (your father's doctor) start to build a flirty friendship because of your father’s procedure. So much so that when he’s invited to Baby 5’s wedding (his cousin), he asks you to be his date. His uncle Doflamingo - who is filthy rich - is very adamant on finding a suitable wife for him. Seeing as he wants to avoid that, he asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for the weekend.

Notes: There's a bit of NSFW at the end of the chapter (what can I say, Law can't keep his hands to himself!) Seems like Doffy and Ichiji are intent on messing with Law and reader's mind... what do you think?

|Masterlist| | |Chapter 13🔞| | |Chapter 15|

“You may now kiss the bride.” Loud cheers follow the officiant’s words as Sai dips his head to kiss Baby 5. It's strange how you've only just met Baby 5, and now you're tearing up at seeing how happy she looks. 

Dabbing a bit of moisture from the corner of your eye with your knuckle, you turn towards the chairs and lock eyes with Law again. He seems pretty bored with the service, but when he senses your gaze land on him, his eyes soften, filling with warmth. 

Trafalgar Law is incapable of smiling at the end of his cousin's wedding, but one look from you makes the ice melt? What did you do to deserve him?

As the bride and groom walk away from the altar, guests start to rise, ready to meet the couple and congratulate them. Law approaches you with a smile, reaching for your hand. “I missed you.” His voice rings low and inviting, and you immediately blush when his hand slides up your arm and cups your cheek. 

“I was right here, in front of you.”

“But I wasn't touching you.” You giggle and lean into his touch, resting your hands against his chest and letting out a prolonged sigh. “Let me guess, Vinsmoke was an inappropriate bastard?” Law's tone turns from warm to icy in the blink of an eye. 

“Just his usual manipulative crap. But I handled him.” You smirk, tilting your head innocently. “I told him that if he touched me, I’d stab him with the cake knife. It was rather effective.”

Law laughs, a hint of pride in his eyes, then kisses your lips softly. “That’s my girl.” You nearly melt in his embrace before sharing another kiss and finally exit the tent to celebrate the newlyweds. 

You and Law stand a bit apart from the rest of the guests, secluded in your own bubble as he wraps his arms around you from behind. “You know,” he begins, “I can’t wait to take you home.”

“What do you mean? Like, to the room?” You snicker and turn your head to gaze at him. “Because I’m not against sneaking out for a little bit.” You say sultrily, leaning in to give him a small peck.

“Not what I meant, sweetheart, but an interesting proposition.” You chuckle as he bites your lip playfully. “I mean, really get home. Start our ‘something real’ in the real world. Away from… all this.”

You nod at his words, your heart warming a little more in your chest now that he’s actually said you’ll have something serious.

“But it’s not so bad here, is it? I mean, besides your uncle, we’re together in a very romantic setting, if I might add.”

He’s about to answer, a slight furrow of his brow indicating he’s going to share something that’s bothering him, when Baby 5 interrupts you both, calling your name. “I’ve been calling you for photos for a while! All the bridal party is gathering, and you’re the only one missing.” The bride grabs your hand, pulling you along while you hesitate.

“Oh, I don’t think it feels right, Baby 5. I mean, I’m just a fill-in, I don’t want your wedding photos to be ruined.” You try, a dry smile playing on your lips. 

“Nonsense! You're already part of my day, come on, now!” Law releases you from his embrace with a reassuring smile. 

“I'll be here if you need me.” He adds. 

“Law, come on, she's just taking pictures. What will she need you for? In case the boogeyman shows up?” Baby 5 snorts, but Law grunts. 

“He's already here…” He mumbles, but the bride is already halfway to the fountain where the pictures are being taken. 

With a look back at Law and a longing sigh, you fall into place near the other bridesmaids as the photographer starts choreographing the wedding party for some candid shots. Everything is working out well until Ichiji takes advantage of the opportunity created by the photographer’s mixing up the party, and stands by your side. 

“Here we are again, Doll. Are you still mad at me?” He's using that honeyed tone he used when he missed an important anniversary, had to reschedule a date, or, really, whenever he disappointed you. Your heart starts hammering against your chest in that familiar dance as anxiety takes over your senses.

“I never stopped. Now leave me alone.” You can’t help the shakiness in your voice, but you still deliver the words. You try to move away, but the photographer yells, ‘Perfect, now smile!’ So you stay still for the shot, feeling Ichiji's fingers creep around your waist. “Don't touch me!” You mutter, fists trembling as you try to maintain a happy smile. 

Click. ‘Another pose, everyone!’

You move to the other side, but peace doesn't last as Ichiji ends up next to you again. “Can't bygones be bygones? I already said I was sorry for cheating. It's just… nobody compares to you, Doll.” ‘Smiles! Big smiles!’ He leans close to your ear, his hot breath making you shiver in discomfort as you bite the inside of your cheek for grounding. “No one gives me as much joy to break as you.”

Click.

You turn, facing him with fire in your eyes, ignoring the way your heart tries to leap out of your chest. “I'm not the same naive girl I was, Ichiji. I refuse to fall for your manipulations. You are nothing to me now.”

‘Oh, someone's not smiling. Let's give it another shot!’

You seethe, gritting your teeth and forcing a smile, trying to ignore Ichiji's hand searching for yours, sweat dampening your forehead.

“I'm nothing to you now? But I used to be your everything. You can't let go of that so easily.”

‘Much better! Come on, now, mix it up again, goofy poses and we'll be done.’

“You seem like the one who can't let go, Ichiji. You were a mistake, and I've learned my lesson. Leave. Me. Alone.” This time, you stand well away from him. Sugar, already a bit tipsy, swings her arms around you for support, and you lean on her for a fun candid shot. Ichiji stays away. 

Thankfully. 

-*-

“Here, Nephew, I thought you might need a mimosa to help you through this.” Law sighs, his eyes never leaving you as you stand in perfect alignment with the other bridesmaids, a beautiful smile on your face. 

Accepting the drink from Doffy, he takes a sip and grimaces. “There's no orange juice in this mimosa, Uncle.”

Doflamingo chuckles and shrugs innocently. “Oops.” Law doesn't feel like engaging with him anymore, but he can't leave this spot. Vinsmoke seems to be following you around the set, and he's about one more smirk from the redhead away from marching down there. 

“Curious, isn't it, Nephew?” Law doesn't fall for the trap, though he knows very well that not asking won't stop his uncle from talking. “The way she keeps getting angry at him… look at all that… fire.”

Law takes another sip of his orange-free mimosa - champagne - a big one this time, clenching his fist against his leg and trying his hardest to ignore his uncle. 

“I'm happy you trust her, but I don't. I know her kind. She was with Vinsmoke before, and we all know how… likeable he is. So it can't have been for his personality, come on.” Doffy's chuckle turns dark and ominous. 

“Thank you for worrying, but we're fine.” Law's teeth clack together as he sets his jaw, trying to keep himself from grunting. He can feel you're distressed, but you can hold your own. You wouldn't want him to disrupt the wedding. 

“Yes, fine… for now. But look at them, Law, really look at them.” Vinsmoke’s hand is on your waist, and you didn't swat him away, he's leaning toward your ear, whispering something, and the fire in your eyes burns with such intensity he can almost feel the heat from this distance. You don't want him near you, though you’re trying your hardest not to disrupt the photoshoot. 

“Sure, Uncle. All I see is hatred.”

Doflamingo moves to stand directly in Law’s line of sight, making sure Law listens to what he has to say. “Exactly. When you stop caring, you become indifferent, cold, calloused. When you still care, it means you still feel. Hatred is just one small step away from passion.” Doffy takes a long gulp of his ‘mimosa’ and laughs, his eyes glinting as Law finds it harder and harder to shield his own emotions. “And, you know, Law… they both burn with the same intensity.”

-*-

“Thank God, that's over.” You mutter as you approach Law with a smile. “Hey.” His smile seems a bit more strained, but he doesn't shy away from your hug. “Missed me?”

Law chuckles, but a harsh line still remains between his brows, and this time, there's nothing stopping you from smoothing it with your fingertips. 

“What's wrong?” Law's deep sigh is a bit disconcerting, like he's carrying a weight you're not privy to. “You can tell me everything, you know? This trust thing, it's a two-way street…” Your tone seems light, but the intensity in your gaze proves your sincerity. 

“Doffy's been messing with my mind.” A groan vibrates against your neck when he buries his head against it. “Sometimes it's just hard to believe how lucky I am.” He trails a few kisses up your neck, along your jawline and stops a breath away from your lips. “How lucky I was to meet you.”

Threading your fingers through his hair, you close the distance between your mouths. Law pulls you by the waist against him in a consuming kiss. It's passionate, it's intense, it's mind-blowing. Like everything else with Law. When you pull away, he still chases your lips to steal one more touch. 

“We're both lucky, then. Because I'm the happiest I've ever been.” Law's gaze finally softens, and that annoying dip of his forehead disappears. “Please don't let any of your uncle’s words get into your head.”

Law nods, parting the hug and pulling you by the hand towards where the other guests are. “I won't.”

“Promise?” You plant your feet, not budging when he pulls you, so he can look you in the eyes. “You know he has an agenda, Law. He brought my freaking ex into this. He'll try to break us apart, I can feel it.”

“Sweetheart, there's nothing in this world that can take you away from me, got it?” Law gives you a reassuring smile along with a caress on your cheek, but none of it eases the weight in your chest or the feeling of foreboding in his words. 

-*-

The reception is in full swing now. Speeches have been recited, along with plenty of toasts. Food - and drinks - are flowing freely and everyone seems a bit tipsy and cheerful. 

“Can I have a dance with the lady?” A hand hovers in front of your face, and you smile widely. 

“Careful,” Law speaks to you in a hushed tone, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Cora has two left feet.” You smile at the indignant look on Cora’s face as you take his hand in yours.

“I resent that, Law. When it comes to dancing, I’m very graceful. It’s with everything else that I’m a little bit clumsy.” The two men share a warm smile before Law’s uncle ushers you onto the dance floor, leaving him to stare at you both, which only lasts a couple of seconds as someone approaches him.

“Trafalgar, may I have a word with you?”

Law sighs and closes his eyes as if gathering patience. “Vinsmoke. What do you want?”

“To clear the air between us. It seems a bit… stifling.” Ichiji laughs, taking a sip of his champagne.

“Consider it cleared, then. Thank you for the chat.” Law turns to leave, but Ichiji ignores his attempt to exit and continues speaking. 

“I remember things about her that you most likely haven’t learned yet.” The smirk he shows Law is lecherous, but Law merely clenches his jaw in response. “How she likes to be touched, her scent… the exquisite way she tastes. Unforgettable.”

His words sting. Law doesn’t want to imagine you with anyone else, let alone this creep. But he knows you were intimate with him, obviously, and he also knows Ichiji will thrive if he gets a rise out of him. So Law takes a deep, steadying breath, sipping his drink and watching you glide gracefully in Cora’s arms, a deep smile upon your lips. 

“I had four years with her. I know every shiver, every tremble, every gasp and mewl by heart. It’s not something that can be easily unlearned.” He taunts, his smirk growing wider. 

Law’s throat constricts, and he swallows hard to force out his words. “Interestingly enough, she forgot you just fine.” Law is not going to stoop as low as Ichiji is stooping. But he could remind the jerk that you told him you’d never felt the same way you do for Law towards anyone else. And that includes this bastard. But he doesn’t need to share that knowledge, as long as Law knows it, he’s perfectly fine. “It’s actually impressive, Vinsmoke, that you spent four years with her and still managed to let her slip between your fingers.” Law shrugs nonchalantly. “I guess I should thank you, though. For being an asshole. That way, she saw right through you.”

Ichiji’s smirk falters as he takes a small step back. “Just face it, Trafalgar, you’ll never have what I had with her.”

Law smirks, letting out a cold, detached laugh. “Thank God for that. Why would I want a failed, toxic relationship when I have something so much better?”

That worked well enough to wipe the stupid smirk off his face. “This is not over yet.” Ichiji mumbles.

“Oh, but it is, Vismoke.” This time, it’s Law who leans closer to Ichiji, his taller frame casting an ominous shadow over the redhead. “I’ll say this once, leave her alone or you’ll find out just how protective I can be of what’s mine.” Law’s voice is cold and dangerous, and Ichiji clenches his jaw in response.

Realising he can’t rile Law up, he retreats, mumbling curses under his breath as Law finally relaxes his stiff posture and refocuses his gaze on you. Between Doffy’s manipulations and Ichiji’s devious words, Law begins to think they may have joined forces to disrupt his and your peace. 

-*-

“You really are a great dancer, Cora, you weren’t lying.” You tease the older man with a smile, and he laughs back at you.

“Thank you, thank you.” He sends you for a twirl to emphasise what a great dancer he is, pulling another heartfelt laugh from you. When you’re back in his arms, his smile is still in place. “Truly, thank you.” He nods towards where Law stands and sighs. “It’s been years since I’ve seen him this happy. I’ve seen him at his best and his worst… he’s been through a lot, but just seeing how at ease he is by your side…” Cora’s hand squeezes yours and he lets the rest of the sentence unsaid.

You see Ichiji next to Law, and your stomach churns. “It’s mutual, actually. I’ve been at my worst for a few years… and with Law…” Your smile lights up your whole face. “It’s all so simple with him, familiar even. Like we always knew each other and were just waiting to meet again.” 

Your deep, enamoured sigh makes Cora beam as well. “It’s a wonderful feeling, seeing him this unguarded. We went through some dark times when his parents and sister passed, it was tough on all of us. But as he grew up, he seemed to return to the ease he had as a child. And then…”

Cora inhales deeply, a flicker of pain crossing through his eyes, as if he’s not quite sure whether he should be the one to speak of Law’s heartaches.

“Monet?”

Cora’s nod is almost imperceptible. “It wasn’t just that she abandoned him, I think he would’ve gotten through that. It was the betrayal. She broke his trust. And back then, he placed his trust much more easily than he does now. Doffy thought he was teaching a tough-love lesson to Law, and he did. Except that lesson took its toll and Law stopped trusting people altogether. He built his walls so high it was impossible for anyone to scale them. Even me…”

Your hand grips Cora’s shoulder tighter. You can sense that he must have resented Doflamingo and what he did as well. 

“I honestly thought he would never let anyone get close to him again.” A sad smile plays on Cora’s lips as he looks at you. “Eventually, he let me in again, and some of his walls crumbled, but never long enough for another relationship to blossom. I’m so grateful to you, I truly am.”

For a second, your heart clenches. You and Law have both lied to this wonderful man. He doesn’t know that you started this with a fake relationship. But you’re not faking anything now, so you can’t feel guilty about that, right?

And there’s no way you’ll ever break the trust Law has placed in you. You did the same for him as well: you opened up, baring all your insecurities and shame, and he took you in with open arms and zero judgement. You’re both helping each other heal. 

“Law deserves to be happy. To feel like he can trust and be trusted again. I want to be that person for him.” You can’t help the way your eyes shine as you speak these words, they sound like a vow, a promise, and you know that’s what they truly are.

“I think you already are.” Cora laughs and spins you one last time before the song ends, and he takes you back to Law. 

Law’s forehead is sporting that annoying dip again, and you know his conversation with Ichiji must not have been a pleasant one. 

“Here she is, Law. Safe and sound, no squished toes or sprained ankles.” You laugh alongside Cora, and even Law lets out a chuckle. “Have fun, you two.” Cora waves and retreats back to the party, stumbling over a chair and dragging down a plate of dessert with him. “I’m fine!” He exclaims as Law sighs and you giggle.

“Hi.” He murmurs as he places his hands on your waist and pulls you in for a small peck. “Want to get out of here?” Law’s lips curve into a mischievous smirk that has you chewing your lower lip in anticipation.

“We can’t. It’s too soon.” But heat is already gathering in your core as Law’s hands roam your sides.

“We’ll come back.” The whisper in your ear is sultry and makes promises you know he intends to keep. 

“Ten minutes…” You exclaim, already losing a battle you never intended to win anyway.

“Half an hour, at least.” He groans in your ear, hands tightening on your hips.

“Fifteen minutes?” You gasp when his lips kiss your neck. “Okay, half an hour.”

“You’re easily convinced…” A chuckle escapes your lips as you let him take your hand and guide you into the house. You both pass a few guests on the way but try to look as inconspicuous as ever as you navigate the ground floor. Law pulls you to a dimly lit hallway and opens a tiny door, it’s a small closet with some of the guests’ jackets and purses. 

With one last check of the hallway, he pulls you in and presses you against the wall, his body instantly pinning yours as his lips devour yours with unbridled hunger. His hands tease and grope your nipples and sides, roaming with intent, making you shiver and tremble under his devotion. 

“Couldn't make it to the room?” You whisper between bated breaths, and he chuckles, his lips pressed against your neck.

“Sweetheart, if I took you to our room, we wouldn’t return to the party tonight. And my cousin will be very disappointed if we’re not here for the slicing of the cake.” Law’s fingers curl the fabric of your dress, pulling it up and settling on your thighs. As his fingers catch on the lace of your panties, he groans, and you sigh. Law immediately catches your mouth in his, his other hand tangles your hair, and he tugs softly to deepen the kiss. The fire burning between your legs feels like molten lava coursing through your veins.

“Law…” You mumble when he breaks the kiss to nibble at your jawline.

“Sweetheart, you’re going to have to be very quiet. Because no one can see us here, but they can hear us.” His lips trail a path down your neck and over your collarbone. One of his hands returns to tease your nipple while the other plays with the hem of your panties. “Can you do that?”

“Depends.” You let out a breathy whisper. 

“On what?”

“On what you plan on doing to me.” Then you have to bite your lip to stifle a mewl as Law’s finger plunges inside your slit, finding you already dripping wet. He groans into your ear, his body pressed against yours only adds stimulation to the ungodly things his fingers are doing inside you. 

“Oh, I have very mischievous plans for you.” A small whimper escapes your lips as he circles your clit with his thumb. “Don’t make a sound, sweetheart.”

But that’s easier said than done. He eases another finger inside, but his rhythm is insanely slow. He circles your clit in tortuous motions, and just as pleasure is mounting up, the smallest of mewls leaves your lips and he stops, mouth hovering over yours. “Not a sound.” You move your hips against his hand in a silent plea for more, for him to finish what he started, and he returns his ministrations. Slowly, languorously, lazily. He’s driving you insane.

“More, Law, please.” You mumble, feeling your legs already trembling and the intense coil of desire ready to snap. 

“If you want more, you need to take it in silence.” His fingers flick your nipple, and you stifle another moan while you nod vigorously. “Eyes on me, sweetheart. If I’m not going to hear you scream, I need to see you fall apart.”

His fingers plunge deeper and faster, the pressure on your clit maddening as your breaths come in shallow, nearly silent gasps. Focusing your eyes on his, you can see the amber in them shining as he takes you in. Your legs tremble relentlessly, and you know you won’t be able to stay silent, not when the pleasure is overwhelming you, crashing with waves of bliss. So Law takes your lips in his and rides your orgasm with you in a shattering kiss, muffling your moans and swallowing your screams. 

When he pulls back and removes his fingers, you’re panting, small beads of sweat dampening your skin as Law smirks at you. “That’s my good girl.” His hand tilts your chin upwards so you meet his gaze again. “Think you can keep that up?” His tone hides a dare, and you don’t quite get what he means until he starts unbuckling his belt, his hand reaching into his pocket for a condom. 

A slight flush creeps into your cheeks as you nod. “I can be quiet.” He grins, getting ready and aligning himself with your entry while a hand wraps under your thigh, elevating it to create an angle. 

“Not a sound, sweetheart.” His whisper against your ear sends a shiver down your spine, anticipation making you tingle as you grasp his shoulders for purchase. His other hand holds your hip steady as he pushes himself inside you, slowly, inch by inch. Your head falls back in abandon as you trap an earth-shattering moan behind closed lips. “You take me so well, you feel so good.”

Law’s grip is firm and possessive as he thrusts with intent. He doesn’t want to keep you on edge this time, he knows there’s every chance of both of you getting caught, so he’s searching to fulfil your pleasure and his with effectiveness. “You’re clenching me so hard, sweetheart. Are you close again?”

You try to answer him, but a whimper comes out instead, and he groans. “I love that you can’t help but make noises for me.” Law’s control is also slipping, he clenches his jaw, brow furrowed tightly as his thrusts become relentless. “Almost there?”

A nod is your answer as your nails dig into his chest, gripping the lapels and trying to ground you on firm reality. “Fuck.” Law lets out just as a wanton moan begins to crescendo on your lips. He silences you with another kiss as the both of you swallow each other’s broken noises, ones you can’t seem to keep quiet as you fall apart and pleasure overwhelms you, overriding all sense of decorum. 

The tremors of the aftershock still course through you, making you shiver as Law pulls back, breathless and grinning at you. “You did so well, sweetheart.” He kisses you and caresses your cheek with his thumb as he composes his pants and helps you straighten your dress and hair. 

You open your mouth and instantly close it. Almost. It was just there. Three words. I love you. You almost said it.

“That was incredible, Law.” These words are safer. These words don’t bring uncertainty or disappointment if he doesn’t feel the same. So you stick with them. “Do you think anyone noticed our absence?” You’re still trying to catch your breath as your emotions rage war inside you.

“In the middle of so many guests? Maybe just my uncle…” You cringe, Doffy is the last person you want to have noticed you slip away. “I’ll go ahead and head to the bathroom, we’ll meet up at the reception, how about that?” You nod, you’re composed enough, Law helped you. The only thing that might give you away is the slight flush of your cheeks or the silly grin you can’t seem to erase. Law kisses your nose in an affectionate manner and opens the closet door. “See you soon.”

You wait another minute while untangling your hair and, with a deep inhale, you exit the closet, heading down the hall towards the garden. 

“Cariño, having fun?”

Shit.

Tag List:@rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @rainbow2312 @alexturnersgirl

|Chapter 15|