#this is a person that had chin hair length at the start of this mission

[marvelobsessed134]

I’m not that innocent

A/n: Set around the events of Iron Man 2. Instead for Natasha spying on Tony, you will take her place. (Love Nat tho don’t get me wrong). This has been sitting in my drafts for *ehem* about 500 years but here it is :)

Warnings: smut, blowjobs, getting caught (not sexually), degradation, reader goes by a undercover name for a short amount of time, reader doesn’t get to cum lol, and I think that’s it let me know if I forgot anything.

Summary: Tony catches onto your act

This mission was simple enough. Go undercover as Tony Stark’s assistant to collect information on him for Nick Fury. Originally your friend Natasha was supposed to go on this mission but unfortunately she got sick with the flu so Fury asked you to take over.

You were nervous since Tony is a powerful CEO, literally Iron Man, and he’s mega hot. But you knew you had to set aside your personal feelings to successfully get this mission done. The CEO was obviously flirty with you, and you couldn’t help but be a little flustered. Everything was going according to plan until one day.

You were caught bent over in his office, looking through one of his file drawers when you heard a door open, close and lock. A grunt filled the room. You quickly looked up to see non other than your target. Standing there like a deer in the headlights, you just stared back at the older (and albeit larger) man.

“What do you think you’re doing Missy?” Tony asked as he slowly started to stalk towards you. “Just looking for these files that Pepper wanted.” You tried to easily make up a lie.

“That’s interesting because Pepper left early today.” Ah, shit. You are so cooked.

“Oh! Um, sorry must’ve slipped my mind um-“

“What were you doing sifting through my private files?”

Quick, Y/n, say something! Your mind shouted at you. But really, what excuse were you supposed to use now? Especially since he called your bullshit on your first one. Without even having to say anything, Tony spoke up, “I have a feeling you’re not really an assistant. You work for SHIELD is that right?” Okay, how the fuck did he get that spot on?

It must’ve been written all over your face because he said, “Yeah, I’ve had an inkling for awhile. I bet your name isn’t really Holly Brooks. What’s your real one?”

You were too scared and stunned to speak and so the raven haired man lifted your chin with his index finger and said in a lower tone, “I said, what is your real name?”

You gulped, “Y/n. Y/n L/n.”

“That name suits you far better than Holly does. And because you’re so pretty, I’ll let you out of this office and I can forget you ever did anything.” You looked at him with a surprised but hopeful expression.

“But you’re gonna have to earn it, sweetheart.”

“Earn it? How?” You had an idea of what this “earning” would entail and it made your panties damp.

“I think you know what I want.” He said cockily before pushing the file drawer closed and walking to his desk chair before sitting down in a leaning position. “Get on your knees pretty girl.” You were quick to obey, getting on your knees as you looked at him with doe eyes.

“You gonna undo my pants or what? Are too much of a dumb spy to not know how to suck cock?” His degrading words sent you spiraling and you let out a quiet, “Sorry sir.” Before buckling his belt and pulling his pants and boxers down allowing his large cock to spring free. Your eyes widened at the size and the tip already leaking of precum. You did wear a revealing outfit today, a white blouse with the first three buttons undone to show your black lacy bra, and a shirt black pencil skirt with just your matching panties under it. Maybe you were waiting for this moment…

You took his cock in your hand and began to jerk him off before taking the tip in your mouth and sinking down his length. “Oh fuck.” Tony hissed as you began to suck him off, bobbing your head up and down and jerking off whatever you couldn’t fit in your mouth. The older man gripped your hair roughly and started to control your movements, using your mouth as his own personal fleshlight.

“Such a slut, you like this don’t you? I know you’ve been waiting for this moment ever since I saw you staring at me a couple times with those fuck me eyes.” He groaned out, enjoying the way tears filled your eyes as you helplessly sat there on your knees being used by him.

“Who knew you were such a good cocksucker? I’m gonna have to keep you around.” His words made your brain short circuit and encouraged you to lick him and help him get to his finish while he was using your mouth.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum. You better take it all or I swear to god-“ The CEO cut himself off when he released his seed into your mouth and down your throat, you swallowed it all and he pulled you off his dick, leaning your head back to look at you. Your mascara was messed up, your face was wet from tears, and your eyes were blissed out.

“Such a pretty girl. Could’ve treated you real nice, taken you out to dinner before I take you home and destroy that little cunt. Too bad you have to be a whore.” His tone was so condescending and somehow that made it better.

“Get up.” Tony commanded and let go of your hair. You stood up and watched him rise as well, taking his blazer jacket off and loosening his tie before unbuttoning his shirt and fully getting rid of his pants. He grabbed you and pushed you against the side of his desk, kissing you hungrily. You kissed him back, hands wandering his sculpted body like it was the best thing you’ve ever put your hands on.

The raven haired man ripped your white shirt open and roughly pulled the cups of your bra down to expose your breasts, letting them pop out effortlessly. He tweaked and played with your nipples, spitting on them, sucking them, making you moan and squeal in the overwhelming sensation.

Then he pulled your skirt up roughly, and cupped your clothed core, “So fucking wet. Just from sucking my dick? Or was it being naughty and getting caught doing something you shouldn’t have been doing? Which is it?”

“Both.” You answered obediently and honestly.

“Fucking slut.” He huffed before ripping your panties off which caused you to gasp but you didn’t have a chance to open your mouth when he turned you around and bent you over as if you were nothing.

He slapped your ass once, twice, three times before lining up his cock to your dripping entrance. As he gripped your hips he slowly pushed in making the two of you moan. Oh god, you thought to yourself, his employees can probably hear this. They think you’re just another one of his conquests. In way, you are.

“Oh fuck! So fucking tight!” Tony growled as he began to thrust and fuck into you faster and harder slapping your ass occasionally. “Such a bad girl, thinking you can tease me all day, make me hard in meetings, just to try and fucking spy on me,” he scoffs, as if the whole situation was pathetic, “but now I have my cock deep your pussy so, at least one of us is winning.” He continued to fuck you senseless, your hands gripping the edge of the desk. You couldn’t hide your moans and cries as the CEO repeatedly hit your g spot.

“Oh god! I’m gonna cum!” You cried.

“Yeah? Do you think you deserve it? After all you did?” Tony grunted.

“Yes! Please let me cum! I’ve been such a good girl so far!” Your cries and pleads were pathetic. You were pathetic, Tony thought. And god was he having the time of his life.

He felt himself getting closer and closer to edge and said, “Yeah, I don’t think so.” And pulled out of you before shooting his cum on your ass.

You whined at the loss of contact and orgasm making him laugh and say, “If you want to cum, you have to let me take you out to dinner. And get rid of any files you might have stolen from me digital and physical copies.

[giamee]

𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔!

ཐི♡ཋྀ featuring -> blade, gepard

ཐི♡ཋྀ contains -> mentions of depression/low mood, more blade bias teehee

ཐི♡ཋྀ gia's notes -> i kinda based these off of my own experiences with depression, so hopefully it's at least a little relatable. i tried not to romanticise it too much. also disclaimer i am fully aware that the stuff i talk about in here isn't a cure-all for depression, but i did focus on a less severe characterisation of it in this. hope that's ok anon

ཐི♡ཋྀ request -> anon: hi!!! really loved your roommate thing for har, literally makes me smile may i request blade or/and gerard with reader who got depression? even if you don’t like the idea it’s fine, hope you have great time <3

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ BLADE

-hm ok to be honest blade seems rather emotionally repressed

-so it may take a while for him to pick up on signs of you starting to get into a depressive episode

-he’s busy with being a  stellaron hunter, and he isn’t exactly the most frequent texter, but he’ll still notice a change in your texting style as the time between your replies increases while the length of them keeps getting shorter

-maybe you were busy? even though it may sting a little to see his last message still unanswered as he’s holed up somewhere on another planet, he still can’t help but worry for you, though he may not outwardly admit it

-and that spurs him on to finish elio’s mission for him even quicker so he can get back home to you

-when he returns, he may be a bit confused due to your seeming apathy

-he had missed you, and he didn’t want to be the one to cave and say it out loud

-but at your mustered smile and hollow sounding greeting, that’s when things start to click and blade may realise what’s going on

-personally i feel like blade’s love language is acts of service/physical touch

-and man’s just come back from a mission

-he’s dirty, he’s hungry, and he’s tired

-so he decides to deal with those issues with you in that exact order

-cue him running a bath and then convincing you to get in with him on the ground of him “getting lonely” without anyone there, making you crack a little smile at his antics

-the warmth of the water and his solid chest against your back is a soothing sensation, and neither of you voice how tender his touches are as he lathers your hair, fingers carefully detangling any knots as he rests his weight against you

-it’s a peaceful affair, and you can feel yourself begin to warm, with the weight that you previously weren’t even aware of beginning to lift off of your chest as you filled the silence of the bathroom with some hushed conversation with blade

-he asks you how your day was, listening to your hesitant recollection with his chin is tucked over your shoulder, his arms encircling you as he listens to your voice and hums occasionally, basking in your presence

-when the water begins to run cold, blade’s offering you his clothes to change into, leading you by the hand to your shared bedroom, and it’s touching to see just how much care he puts into your wellbeing when it’s him who’s just come back from a dangerous mission

-up next is finding something to eat

-the uncharacteristically soft behaviour of blade is continued as he rummages around the fridge, cursing under his breath when he realises that he'll have to make a shopping list

-he still manages to find enough ingredients to make some sort of meal, and though he's not a cook by any means, it's definitely edible and the distant growl of your stomach suggests that maybe you were feeling hungry after all

-you're leaning against one of the counters, watching your boyfriend's back in quiet awe as he continues to cook, the simple black cotton of his shirt stretching across his broad shoulders practically inviting you to wrap your arms around him

-you've never been one to resist such an offer, and you find yourself shyly walking up to him, letting the side of your face rest against his spine

-blade almost immediately relaxes into your embrace, continuing his ministrations while you mumble a muffled "thank you" into the fabric covering his back

-you don't need to clarify what you're thankful for, and blade has always been one to speak more through his actuons than words

-he pauses for a second, turning to flick your forehead gently

-"don't get all soft on me now"

-you feel your eyes well up with appreciation for your boyfriend, squeezing him a little tighter to yourself as he turns back around, feeling his hand do the same to yours where it rests on his stomach

-"yeah, yeah. now let's eat, hmm?"

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ GEPARD

-another emotionally repressed king 😍

-i feel like in terms of noticing that something's up with you he would be worse than blade

-mr landau is a bit of a workaholic, and he's guilty of using it as a coping mechanism when he can feel himself start to slip

-he will run off of denial and caffeine and just force himself to keep working, resulting in a general lack of awareness in spotting when he or others are struggling

-so really, the dots that he should connect with how you've been acting recently take a little longer than they should be

-he's mentioning to serval how you seem to be the polar opposite of him recently, acting a lot more withdrawn and apathetic in general

-and serval is just blinking at him and wondering how dense her younger brother can be

-reprimands him and tells him that this is a conversation he should be having with you, and not her

-and with a little guidance, gepard is sat in front of you and asking if anything's wrong and if so what he can do to help

-and initially, you're not really sure yourself

-you know that you don't feel the same as usual, but you tend to just go with the motions and wait it out

-and gepard furrows his brows when he hears this

-poor guy has no idea how to handle this without direction

-so he does some research and makes some notes on ways he can help you because he loves you

-and next thing you know his late working hours and overtime have turned into getting home before the sun goes down

-resulting in him having enough energy to do something with you and spend some quality time together, whether that be a date night in or just cooking a meal together

-and funnily enough, gepard notices not only a slight improvement in your overall mood, but in his as well

-with all those tips and tricks of maintaining a routine, he was glad to see your shared efforts come into fruition

-he almost felt his heart combust when you told him that being around him makes you feel better

-man is whipped he will walk the ends of the earth just to see you happy

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 IF YOU LIKED THIS, TRY: fade into you!

honkai star rail masterlist ૮ • ﻌ - ა

[crybaby-bkg]

sᴄᴏʀɴᴇᴅ | ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴇʟᴠᴇ

Bakugou x f!reader Warnings/Tags: bit of PDA, beginnings of a panic attack, unresolved sexual tension, brief violence in the end. Word Count: 6.8k Minors/blank/ageless blogs DNI!

Main Masterlist AO3

“So, let me get this straight,” Vanity says around the food in her mouth before swallowing loudly, making you chuckle. “Number four hero, Dynamight, not only moved you into his apartment, asked you out to become your boyfriend, but he’s also making it public by taking you to the annual hero gala?” 

The silence stretches on in the quietness of the warehouse, both of you looking at each other over the bowl of noodles you share. You pretend to be thinking, scratching your head a little before humming. 

“Yeah, that sounds about right.” You shrug faux nonchalantly, before a huge grin breaks your face. “This whole thing is…wild to me.” You whisper though, voice suddenly small as everything starts to sink in. Just about a year ago, you had made it your mission to take Dynamight down for some sexist comment he made. And now you’re comfy cozy with each other, sharing kisses and falling asleep together on the couch. 

“Yeah, I would’ve never imagined this for you, but, I’m happy. You look happy.” Vanity tells you with a small smile, her eye casted low before she looks up to take all of you in. There seems to be some kind of glow on your skin, the air around you lighter and softer, something she doesn’t think she’s ever seen before. 

“I’m jealous,” Vanity states plainly, before she swallows thickly again, looking around the room. You reach out to grab her hand, feel how it shakes in your grip before you squeeze her, a concerned look passing over your face. 

“Really? What for?” You ask her, head tilted to the side. She places her chopsticks down, gathers both of your hands, and it breaks your heart the way her chin wobbles ever so slightly. 

“Of the fact that you can trust men again.” She whispers, voice shaking with every syllable. 

“It’s not all men,” you interject but she shakes her head quickly at you, her hair falling in front of her eyepatch. 

“Yeah, I know, but its one. And its one that has so much status and power in the world, and yet he’s actually not a piece of shit.” You both laugh softly at that, you giving her an unsure face that says, ‘really?’  before you two laugh again. The room falls silent, sounds of distant bustling sliding up from the downstairs area of other vigilantes moving about. 

“I’m jealous that you can work through your issues, that you can progress in a relationship, and that I just can’t seem to get it right.” Vanity says after a while, squeezing your hand tight in hers as her eye starts to water. You want to hold her close, like how she’s always held you whenever you struggled, but she keeps you at arms length for the time being. 

“I want to build that trust again, but one of them took my fuckin’ eye, ‘Dusa.” Vanity snarls out, her mouth trembling, her teeth grit, her cheeks muddled with quick dropping tears. You feel your own jaw clench, get a flash of that scared and broken and bloody girl on your doorstep, crying for help, calling you her savior. It makes your chest tighten, as you shrug away a tear quickly when it falls.

“How can I work through my own shit when all of my resentment is built up, ready to explode straight from my fuckin’ empty socket?” She asks you, head bowing when a sob tremors through her body. You hang your head with her, tears steadily leaking into your lap, into the bowl shared between you. Ever since you met Vanity, she had never shown any interest in men, but that didn’t surprise you, given her past. But you would’ve never guessed that you finally finding a man that’s actually trustworthy and a better person than you believed them to be, would rake up these kind of feelings. 

“I’m sorry.” You mumble out, feeling her pain course throughout your own body. You understand her, her troubles, her past, her trauma. You were captured, yes, but she was maimed. Mutilated beyond repair. What could you do in a moment like this? How could you even have a moment like this, knowing what she’s been through? How selfish could you be to share the happiness you’re experiencing, the growth, knowing that she is still trapped in this warehouse to escape the demons that lurk outside, ready to pluck out the other eye? 

“Please don’t apologize.” She tells you through a hiccup, using your hand that she’s still holding to wipe away her tears. “You shouldn’t not share your joy with me because of my own issues. It just makes me wish I was as strong as you to work through them.” She finally looks up to give you a lopsided smile, squeezing your hand in hers. Your lip wobbles as you shake your head at her. 

“I’m not strong though,” you whisper, clenching your eyes shut tight before you force them back open. “I kept my gun on me the first two months of staying there. I had a panic attack every time I had to leave my room because I thought he would attack me. 

“I still fight with myself every time I want to further the relationship because I’m scared; I think I’m undeserving; because I think he might take advantage of me, even though my mind knows he won’t.” Your voice is shaky, tears escaping, as you hold onto Vanity so tight, afraid that if you let go, she might somehow float away. 

“But my body is weak.” You admit, and she nods in understanding at that. “It remembers the pain that I’ve gone through, even though I’ve tried time and time to forget it.” You whisper. You think back to recently when Katsuki hugged you from behind and kissed your neck, and how it made you panic and push him away, the confused and hurt look on his face. You hadn’t meant to respond back like that, but your body holds onto all of the times your captor had done you the same way before he would drain you of your quirk. 

“I’m not strong, but I am working through it day by day, and he helps me in any way that he can.” You murmur, head bowed as you bite at your lip until you taste copper. You think back on how Bakugou bounced back from the confusion, how he apologized, how he comforted you when you became frustrated with yourself, how he now makes a little noise before coming up behind you as to not startle you. You’ve started to accept back hugs a little easier, now. 

“You just have to work through it.” You promise Vanity, giving her a pointed look before you pull her into you. She falls into your embrace, squeezing you tight as she inhales deeply. Her exhale is shaky, but her words are firm. 

“I will.” She nods once, her hair tickling your chin. You two stay there for a while, ignoring the passersby in the hallway who duck away to give you two privacy. After a few moments, does an idea strike you, and you whisper into her hair, 

“When you think you’re starting to get a little better, I know a certain redhead hero I could introduce you to.” You singsong, laughing loudly when Vanity pulls away quickly, holding you by your shoulders as she gives you a serious look. 

“If it’s the hunky unbreakable one, I wouldn’t be entirely opposed.” She tells you with a nod, making you laugh even harder. She joins you, both of you holding onto each other before falling over onto the floor together, just barely avoiding the noodles. 

You two lay there for a while, giggling, making your little inside jokes none are privy to, and you like it that way. You love the new life you’re starting for yourself, but you miss this more than anything. You just want Vanity to be there with you, to become better, to heal. It’s the only thing you’ll ever wish for in life. 

…

The night of the gala comes up quicker than you had anticipated it. You had been working as a hero for about ten weeks now, still never giving the press your hero name since Katsuki and Deku had convinced you to wait to drop it at the gala. 

It would be a big sort of thing, that you’re not only coming out officially as a hero, but as Dynamight’s girlfriend. You weren’t too big of a fan of the girlfriend thing being such a big deal since you were your own person first, but you could understand why it would be big news. Dynamight hasn’t been seen publicly with a partner in six years, so everyone would expectedly make a big hoopla about it. 

So, with all this pressure falling onto your shoulders, nervous isn’t even the fucking word for how you’re feeling. You had taken the day off from hero training, driven by Katsuki to some hotel just a few blocks away from where the gala would be taking place. He had told you that you would be getting ready there, because they had an official hair and makeup artist to help you, specifically. 

What you would be wearing was previously designed by Eddie a few weeks ago. Bakugou had already picked out his outfit; a silk ash gray button up paired with black slacks. But you wanted something a little flashier than that, just barely. Something to push you a little out of your comfort zone (just barely!) because you wanted your official first outing to be memorable. But—

“My chest is out.” You whisper as you sit in the makeup chair, hair already dolled up, as they bring your dress out to showcase it on a rolling coat rack. Your stomach sinks and cramps, your hands suddenly getting clammy, and you fight the urge to wipe the quickly beading sweat from your upper lip. 

“Why is my chest out? This wasn’t the original design I agreed to. Where’s Eddie?” Your voice is going a mile a minute, shaking as you take in the dress that was almost—so close—to being perfect. You look over to Bakugou who’s buttoning up his shirt, eyebrows pinched in confusion. 

“He dropped the dress off and left right back out. This isn’t what you wanted?” He asks, head cocked in confusion as he rushes over to stand beside you. His eyebrows raise in surprise at the pretty sight but—but this isn’t what you wanted. 

“No,” you snap at him, quickly standing from the makeup artist’s chair, flittering around the room in search of your phone. “No, I wanted this design but higher up on the neck. My chest is supposed to be covered.” You whisper frantically, feeling your skin get hot at the thought of what could happen—the media sees your tattoo, puts the pieces together, condemns you before your hero career can even take off from the ground. You’d be exposed to everyone, and all of those who were connected to you would go down with you. 

How would the media react knowing that Dynamight is dating a former vigilante? One who so many people had deemed as a nuisance, as a villain, as someone who should slink back into the shadows of where they came from? You would ruin him and Yuu and Deku alike, knowing that they put their careers on the line for you, under the condition that you never reveal your past. 

What the fuck are you gonna do? Will Katsuki kick you out if you fuck up his career? Will you become homeless, loveless? What the fuck? 

“Don’t worry, I got you.” Katsuki says, suddenly standing in front of you. He holds your upper arms gently, his head ducked down so that you’ll finally look up at him. When you do, your eyes are frantic, full of tears, as the endless amount of possibilities of how you could screw up everyone around you comes crashing down onto you, the weight of your shoulders sagging. 

You don’t get to utter a word before Katsuki flitters off, pulling the makeup artist with him into a conjoined room. He’s already on the phone by the time he closes the door, voice hushed as you go back to stand in front of the almost perfect dress. 

Eddie, you think to yourself as you wrap your arms around your body tightly, what happened? What happened to the perfection you promised you would make me? How could you get so close and yet fall so far?

The dress is damn near everything you asked for. It’s a midnight black with blue tints when the lights hit it, covered from head to toe in sparking gems. There’s a slit up to your knee on either side, the back curving down just beneath your shoulder blades. The chest is supposed to be a halter top, similar to your hero outfit but instead, it dips down low so your cleavage can be exposed. How could something so close to perfection, wind up so short? 

Everything else is right—the earrings, the necklace, the rings, the shawl, the shoes. You were so confident about tonight, so sure that you would finally feel comfortable in wearing what you wanted to wear without gross men leering at you and trying to touch you in public. But now, you’re not even sure if you can still attend. Disappointment gnaws at your flesh, as you sink back into the makeup chair, letting a few tears fall freely. No need to worry about fucking up your makeup since you’ll probably have to return home earlier than expected. 

You’re about to stand to go to the bathroom, when the conjoining door suddenly opens. Bakugou emerges with the makeup artist, and you can see him tucking some papers into a nearby drawer before the makeup artist returns to her station. She starts picking around a few things, mumbling to herself all the while. You glance at her before looking back to Katsuki, hopping out of the chair as you walk over to him briskly. 

“What did you do?” You whisper-shout to him, afraid of what answer you may receive. But he only twists his mouth a few times, looking down his nose at you before folding his arms over his chest. 

“Made the makeup artist sign a NDA.” He answers after a few beats, gaze falling away from you before he looks up through his lashes. Your eyebrows downturn in confusion though, glancing back at the artist who now stands ready with a smile on her face. 

“For what?” You ask, turning back to him. Katsuki places a gentle hand on your shoulder, covered by the baby blue robe the hotel had gifted you when you arrived. He watches your face as he slowly starts to pull the robe down your shoulder, your eyes widening in confusion, face burning at the thought of what he might be trying to do in front of the few people still in the room. 

“So she can cover your chest and not spill what she saw to the media.” Katsuki whispers, eyes falling to your chest when the edge of crimson ink comes into sight. Your throat tightens at that, in surprise, mouth falling open although no words come tumbling out.  

“Your identity is safe, okay? We’ll talk to Eddie about his fuck up tomorrow.” Katsuki promises you, pulling the shoulder of your robe back up. You blink up at him, unsure of what to say about what he’s done for you. 

He…helped you, when he saw the panicked look on your face. Didn’t respond back in anger when you snapped at him, but instead found a solution that would calm your nerves. What could you say to him for something so small and yet so life changing?

“Thank you so much.” You whisper to him, pulling him down by the front of his shirt for a kiss, something soft and sweet and airy. You rest against his mouth, eyebrows scrunching up lightly, a confession dying to fall from your lips,

“I…” love you, you finish in your head, but your words die out when Bakugou’s assistant barges into the room. 

“Twenty-five more minutes until we have to leave, guys!” He calls out, smiling at the two of you when you both take a step away from each other, shy. When he ducks back out, you and Bakugou share a look, one that says a thousand words, even though he can’t seem to form his lips around the right thing. When he seems to have swallowed down everything wrong, he opens his mouth, but the makeup artist is beside you, whisking you away. 

“We’re gonna cover that tattoo, alright? It shouldn’t budge at all tonight.” She tells you with a grin, steering you back to the makeup chair to touch up what you messed up on your face first. She’s gentle in her ministrations, despite the many times she has to tell you to look up or down because you keep looking at Katsuki. He’s leaning against the wall, watching you get everything done since he finished getting dressed already himself. 

“Could you remove this for me?” The makeup artist asks, her voice quiet as she stands in front of you. You look back over to her, confused, before you realize what she’s referring to. 

“Uh, yeah,” you whisper, glancing back over to Katsuki, who’s suddenly so very interested in his phone, despite how his cheeks are a muddled red. It’s not like he hasn’t seen them before, you think to yourself. 

But you shrug off your robe until it fall in your lap, your strapless bra being pushed down a little so the artist can have full access to your chest. She works quietly as she blends the makeup into your skin, the products cold and the brushes soft. She powders you down after what feels like hours of repetitive movements, fine tuning everything until she steps back with a smile on her face. 

“Here,” she says as she hands you a mirror. The sight almost unnerves you, as you think back on—reminded so cruelly of—the person you used to be when your chest was still empty. On one hand; your identity is still hidden, you keep everyone around you safe, your chest a blank canvas, a sight you haven’t seen in so long. But, on the other hand; you feel naked, stripped of who you are, of what you became, of what made you you. You know its for the greater good, but at what cost? 

“It looks great. Thank you.” You say robotically, nodding your head to the artist. She smiles at you before bowing her head, going to pack up her stuff as Bakugou’s assistant peeks back in. 

“Ten more minutes!” He announces. That makes you spring into action though, waving goodbye to the artists’ that leave you to get changed, as you take your dress down from its hanger. It’s only you and Bakugou left in the hotel room, and the air becomes charged when the door closes for the final time. 

“Need a hand?” He asks you, already plucking the dress from your hands as you fully undo your robe. You stand in front of him in only your undergarments, suddenly feeling just a bit too vulnerable in front of the handsome hero. 

“Of course I do.” You tell him, gesturing for him to unzip the dress. He only smiles though, lending his bulky shoulders when you need some stability to step into the pretty dress, hiking it up your hips for you. When the thin spaghetti straps sit on your skin, does he stand back, but not too far, never. He’s chest to chest with you, and he smells better than you could have ever imagined; something soft like fresh sheets and folded laundry with a hint of icy mint. Your lids lower as you take him in, as he does the same to you. 

“You want me to zip you up?” Katsuki asks softly, hands finding your hips. You nod to him once, gasping when he turns your body for you, his hips slotted against your backside. You say nothing to the poking at your lower back, looking over your shoulder at him as he ever so slowly zips your dress up, hands palming your hip all the while, his fingers gentle where they creep up your spine. 

Without a word, Katsuki leans down to press the softest kiss to your neck, your jaw tilting to allow him more access. He presses you back against him, the feeling of his hardness making you gasp, knees suddenly getting weaker than you think they’ve ever been. 

He holds you close to him, your breathing getting heavy when his hands start to inch around to the front of the dress, sliding down to hook inside the slit. His palm glides over the inside of your thighs, the other reaching around to cup you gently through the fabric, petting you with thick fingertips. 

“When we get home.” You tell him in a sigh, taking everything in you to pull away from him. When you turn around, Katsuki is grinning, wiping a hand down his face as the other rests on his hip. You try to ignore the obvious bulge in his pants, face burning, as you turn to pick up your shoes. 

“Help me with these, and don’t make it horny.” You tell him, trying to hold as much authority in your voice that you can, but its shaky at best. Bakugou outright laughs at that, shameless, and kneels down in front of you to buckle up your low heels. He can’t help but press a feather soft kiss to the outside of your knee when he finishes. 

After that, everything goes smoothly. You’re rushed out to the car by his assistant, driven over to the museum where the gala is being hosted, and presented onto the red carpet. It’s all nerve wrecking, the way everyone turns to you all because of who you’re with. But you don’t let it deter you, holding your head as high as you can, smiling softly at the cameras and the people who call for your attention. 

Bakugou holds you close to him the whole time, ignoring those who try to wave you off to get a picture of him alone. When they start to pester too much, he only snarls at them before directing you a little further down to get away from those shit heads. His hand is planted firmly around your hip, and it becomes an anchor when the bright flashes of light start to become too much. 

When the pictures are over with, do you move into the pit of people doing interviews just off the red carpet. They keep trying to overlook you for Bakugou, but he has none of it, keeping you plastered to his side with a warm hand firmly holding onto your own. Finally, does an interviewer turn his attention to you, microphone shoved into your face as you duck back a little with a frown. 

“May I say what a beautiful dress you’re wearing tonight!” The interviewer says, grinning at you. You nod your head back, barely able to get your thanks out before he’s cutting you off with a question. 

“And who might you be, accompanying the awesome Dynamight tonight?” He asks before his eyes widen in recognition, his grin somehow getting even bigger. “Are you the unnamed hero that’s been on the field lately?” 

Bakugou squeezes your hand tight in his, and you glance up to him. He sends you a wink of recognition, making you think back on the conversation you had with him and Mrs. Kubo before, on how to do this media shit. It was a little daunting, knowing that if you said the wrong thing during your first official impression, that the rest of your career could go to shit before you’re even named. So you look back to the interviewer with a sure smile, nodding once more. 

“Yes, I am.” You say simply, not giving out any unasked for information. That garners the attention of other interviewers almost instantaneously, people suddenly flocking over in your direction with their mics pointed to your face. But you keep your eyes on the original interviewer with a calm gaze. 

“And what is your name? The media has been dying to know!” He exclaims. 

“I go by Firebird.” You state, smile brightening as more shouts for your attention start to trickle in. Bakugou shoulders some people away when they get too close, and you squeeze his hand in thanks. It’s overwhelming, a little, with so many people looking at you, trying to talk to you, get to know every single thing about you, all the while being so goddamn close. Bakugou must be able to sense it though, as he squeezes your hand once more before he starts pulling you away from everybody. 

“Oi, leave my girlfriend the fuck alone now. Answered enough of ya shitty questions.” He announces, and that only makes the crowd go crazier. Questions of what your quirk is starts trickling in, how long have you two been together, is marriage in the near future. You can’t help the deep breath that you suck in, reaching over to pinch at his flank when he carves a path for the both of you to get through the hoard of interviewers and paparazzi. 

You two keep walking until you finally enter where the actual gala is being held, the spacious room filled with paintings surprisingly a lot quieter than it was outside. You walk a few feet in, slowing down as you both look around for some familiar faces. 

“You just had to announce that I was taken, you shit head.” You mumble lowly, only for the two of you to hear. Katsuki grins at that, pulling you away into a secluded corner, as he wraps you in his arms tightly until your back arches under his hold. 

“Didn’t want those damn vultures or any other idiot to think that they ever had a chance with ya.” He mutters against your lips, kissing you and kissing you, your lipstick be damned. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling away only when you hear voices getting closer. 

“Are you kidding me?!” Kirishima calls out, exasperated, garnering the looks from other heroes in the room. “I had to find out from the paps that you’re officially dating?” 

Bakugou fixes him with a confused look, standing tall as he keeps you pressed against him. You laugh at Kiri’s antics though, the way he pulls at his hair, Bakugou’s other friends coming up to join the confusion party. 

“Thought you knew we were together.” Bakugou grunts out with a roll of his eyes. 

“I had a feeling, but you never told me personally! Bro, I’m feeling really betrayed right now. By you too!” Kirishima points an accusatory finger at you next, and you faux gasp with a hand to your chest. 

“I figured he would tell you!” You say, nodding over to Bakugou who frowns at you both. When everyone looks to him for an explanation, his face burns, and he turns away from his friends with a huff. 

“Gonna go find our damn seats.” He mutters, shrugging off the congratulatory pats he receives from everybody he passes. You all find the table you’re supposed to sitting at, chatting and waiting until the gala’s main portion begins. 

As the night goes on, you find yourself more bored than you had anticipated. It felt like a mixture of a fashion show, a charity, and an award ceremony, a place for high status people to come together and mingle without the presence of fans needing their attention. You didn’t feel as though you belonged much, but you stayed near familiar faces, and found yourself enjoying their company. 

“Is that makeup on your chest, to cover…?” Deku asks during one of the dull moments, leaning over beside you in his chair to whisper to you. You stiffen in your seat before you remember just how much he’s helped you, how he’s looked out for you since you were introduced to the idea of becoming a hero. So you nod, once, glancing down to your chest accentuated by the sparkly material of the dress. 

“Yeah. The power of makeup is fuckin’ crazy.” You whisper back, to which Deku nods. He falls quiet before he leans in again. 

“Are you thinking about getting it removed, perhaps? Or covered?” The question makes your head feel stuffy suddenly, body quickly becoming warm as you think about the severity, the weight of what he implies. 

Do you want to always hide behind makeup? Or would you rather just erase a piece of yourself forever? Don’t you want to tear away your flesh from its bone, just so the space can be pure again? Don’t you want to be pure again? Don’t you want to kill the Red Medusa, leave her bloody and broken, just like those men had promised to do to you? Just like those men would have done to you if they were only a bit faster?

“Dynamight is our hero of the year with the most captures and saves this year!” The announcer says proudly on the mic, the bright light shining on them on the stage now moving over to Bakugou who sits beside you. The crowd cheers, the cameras flash, and you know you’re supposed to do something beside him but—but you feel numb. You’re thrown off by the question Deku dropped into your lap, the severity of your identity finally falling into place. 

You’d never truly fit in their world. You’d never truly be a hero if you always kept a piece of your former self on you at all times. You could either stay the survivor that protected everyone who needed saving, or you become the hero that left everything that ever made you and rise from the ashes as someone new. You’re not sure if that sounds as appealing anymore. 

The announcer gets on the mic once more to announce a brief intermission before they start serving some food and a few more annual statistics. Without a word, do you stand from your chair, squeezing Katsuki’s shoulder when he looks to you in confusion before heading off into the crowd. You can hear him angrily asking Deku a question, but you don’t stick around to hear it. 

You weave your way through the crowd until you find yourself in an almost empty room, filled with statues and artwork alike. You forgot that this was held at a gallery, and it almost feels mocking when the first statue that you see is of the most famous, never forgotten hero. 

“What am I to you?” You ask the statue quietly as you wrap your arms around yourself. The marble looks heavy, as does the world that All Might holds on his shoulders. He grins though, muscles and veins bulging, but the statue is sturdy, never buckles under any weight. 

How could you be a hero with a past like yours? With a past that you’re still willing to fall back to if everything somehow comes crashing down? With a past that you’re forever tied to, and yet forced to pretend you’re ashamed of, forced to forget it all? How could you ever be a hero—ever believe that you could be a hero, when your heart only knows of the people you should be helping, rules be damned? 

“You’re a traitor, for one.” A voice calls out from behind the statue. You wipe your eyes quickly, unaware of the tears that had gathered there, cursing when you realize that you messed up your makeup. You blink away your spotty vision, eyebrows screwing down when you’re faced with someone you haven’t seen in so long. 

“The hell are you doing here?” You whisper, hurrying over to the vigilante that would sometimes stay with you and Vanity when she needed help. There were only a couple that would regularly stay, about four or five, and she was one of them. The last time you had seen her was a simple glimpse in the hallway the day you told Vanity that you were considering becoming a hero. She hadn’t said anything to you that day, but she was always quiet. 

Her name was Mercy, and she never shared much about herself, besides the fact that she wanted to be apart of your cause and kick some misogynistic ass with you. You didn’t understand why she was here, especially if she knew you would be here under a new name. 

“Did you sneak in here, or something? You could get caught.” You whisper-shout to her, grabbing onto her wrist to pull her away from the prying eyes that glance over at the two of you. 

But she snatches away from you, makes you straighten your back in surprise, a sinking feeling settling deep into your gut. She doesn’t look happy to see you, and she always has a smile whenever you run into each other. Something’s not right—it wasn’t right that day she saw you in the warehouse, your appearances there getting slimmer and slimmer as the days go on, and its still not right now, either. 

“Really?” She asks loud and dramatically, grin suddenly flipping onto her face like a switch, startles you. “I thought all of us vigilantes were now accepted in the hero world.” She shouts, arms spreading out around her form, and that for sure gathers everyones attention in the room. You freeze, your body suddenly feeling icy cold like you’ve been dipped into a half frozen lake. Your hands lock into fists at your sides, your chest trembling with every heavy breath as you try not to watch the heroes and paparazzi alike start to filter in the room. 

“What are you doing, Mercy?” You whisper to her, eyes stuck on the almost manic look in her eye, but you can see something deeper, hiding in the depths that she never wanted to reveal to you all. She shrugs, walking around the statue, hands behind her back as she tilts her head to rest on her shoulders as the people watch on in confusion. 

“Oh, nothing.” She singsongs, resting against the statue when she circles around to you again, only closer this time until she stands a few feet in front of you. “Just letting everyone know that their favorite new hero isn’t a hero at all. That she’s a fucking traitor who left all of us for fucking dead so that she can sit at the big boys’ table.”

Her smile falls with every word, her lips peeling back in a snarl, her jaws snapping, spit flying from her mouth. But you don’t move, body frozen in shock as everything unfolds in front of all the people who were finally starting to respect you, the people who were finally starting to learn who you were. 

You can feel the tears pinpricking at your eyes in anger, in frustration, in hopelessness. If you physically stopped her, then that would only make everything worse, would make her words bring suspicion to the forefront. It would ruin Katsuki’s reputation and everyone around you who talked with you because they must’ve known, must’ve been hiding the secret that someone who doesn’t belong has been hiding amongst them all. But you can’t let her keep going—not only for your sake, but for the people you were starting to care about, too. 

“Mercy, shut the fuck up.” You snap at her, voice low, gaze captured by Bakugou and his friends who suddenly run into the room. But they all still, confused on what’s going down, unknowingly entering the best part of the show for the night. 

“Why shut up?” She asks, stepping closer to you until her shoes—dirty and torn and falling apart—touch yours—clean and new and sparkly, redeemed. “Don’t you want everyone to know who you are?” She smiles so wide that you can see the creases of her smile lines pinching, her eyes being swallowed by the apples of her cheeks. Her own tears start welling up as she pulls you into a hug, one that you don’t return, arms hanging limply at your sides. 

“Oh, what is it—Firebird?” She whispers only for you to hear before she pulls back, holding you by the upper arms, shouting for all to hear, “Last time I checked, you were running rampant in the streets as the Red Medusa.” 

The room instantly falls into murmurs, shocked gasps, and worried chatters. The camera lights are still flashing, people are starting to record, some heroes walk out in anger. You can see them turning to Bakugou with confused and hurt faces, questions being thrown at him and his friends alike for sitting and congregating with you. But you only have eyes for Mercy, whose tears now run steadily down her grinning cheeks, her arms thrown out as your fists ball up beside you. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” You ask her once more, bottom lip wobbling in anger, in hopelessness, in betrayal. “Who put you up to this?” 

“Nobody.” She shrugs. “But I thought the people should know what kind of past you keep trying to hide. That you’re a fucking fake, and that you never cared about anyone but yourself. You’re only chasing dick hoping it’ll make you a different person, but it won’t, sweetheart.” Mercy laughs humorlessly at that, and the words make you cringe, make you entire body tremor in anger. 

She knows how much you hate being called sweetheart due to past trauma, and yet here she is, poking the bear, picking and picking until you snap. But you don’t—stand there with your teeth clenched, heavy breaths making your entire body rattle, eyes pinpricking with tears. When she doesn’t get the response she wants, she steps to you closely, poking a finger in your chest. 

“I’m just doing what you’re too fucking stupid and weak to do yourself!” She screams at you, her voice hoarse, the veins in her neck throbbing. You hadn’t seen it before, but she reaches back to pick up a glass of water that she had sat on the statue beforehand, throws the contents of it at you. 

You gasp and shield you face, but most of it misses you and it instead lands below your neck. Before you can stop her, Mercy scratches you across the chest, digging up the makeup as she slides sharp nails across your skin. Not only to make you bleed, but enough to reveal the crimson hidden underneath. 

The room falls silent as you stand there, pretty dress soaked and your vulnerabilities open like a gaping wound. Your stomach heaves at the realization, bile creeping up your throat as you finally take a look around the room. It feels like everything is spinning, as you take in the faces who look to your chest with disgust, with anger, with fury covering their faces. At the paps who smile and take picture after picture. At the statues who stare down their noses in disdain at you. At Katsuki who stands frozen in shock, mouth slightly hung open. At Mercy who smiles wobbly at you as she holds her arms open for another hug, looking for it to be receptive this time. 

Without thinking, you reel your arm back and punch her square in the nose. She doesn’t expect it for some reason, and stumbles back into the statue, making it wobble in place. The room goes into an uproar at that, and when everyone dives in to save it from falling over, do you make your grand escape. 

“You can’t keep running from the truth, Medusa! Your past will never let you! I’ll never let you!” Mercy’s voice is the only one you can pick out from the chaos, and it echoes as you run through the corridors of the museum. 

You can hear Bakugou calling your name, but you ignore him, running and running until you finally meet the cold outside air. The interviewers and paparazzi are still out there, and they look to you in confusion before they focus on your chest. The frenzy starts again, everyone gasping when Bakugou comes busting out through the doors. 

But you take off again, the tears burning your eyes as everything sets in. Your legs carry you quicker and quicker as you lose Bakugou in the streets who keeps calling after you, twisting and turning, until you find the path to make it back to the warehouse—to home. 

This was never meant for you. You don’t know why you even tried to become something that you were never meant to be in the first place. You should’ve stayed hidden in the shadows, where you belong. Nobody like you should ever think that they’re more than their past, that they can change and control their own future. It’s all just bullshit. Always has been, and it always will be. 

chapter thirteen

please do not repost or rec on tik tok!

tag list: @endlessfreaky @iamaconfusedpan @blueshome

[immoralimmortals]

A Song With Ten Names

Chapter 9: This December

Chapter 1 ☆ Next chapter

Summary of chapter: It's hard to play the entire piano, end to end 88 keys, with just one set of hands. It's impossible to go through life totally alone, no matter how well you convince yourself otherwise. Itachi, Kisame, and the traveler discuss the little things that set her world apart from that of the shinobi.

Author's Note: The song for this chapter is This December by Ricky Montgomery, lyrics not entirely in order.

CONTENT WARNING: the overall warning for the fic is especially prevalent in this chapter. Allusions to suicide, suicidal behavior and ideation, self harm.

I also now have a playlist with each song in order of appearance :)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It's just a little bit, it's just a little bit

Lonely in this home

It's always colder on your own

My darlin', I

I let the season change my mind

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Kisame keeps an arm’s length about as well as the traveler can ignore how a full size piano could be taken back to the mansion with just a scroll and a puff of smoke. That is to say: it was, for certain, a noble attempt. She’s watching him now, bumblebees idling by as he re-sides the brick wall in humid summer air. Ivy pushes forth from its cracks, poison and otherwise alike, so he had rolled his eyes and pretended like he wasn’t going to be the one working on this chore anyways, having no allergy. As if Itachi would sully his pretty hands.

In this time together, the princess’s knight hasn’t been so bold as to ask...why? He knows she’s lonely. Damn, so is he! But she was told, right? That her first set of bouncers weren’t the exception but the rule for the rest of ‘em. It’ll be her fault, he excuses himself, if anything amiss were to threaten that lovely little neck of hers. He’s still stuck on the stage of denial where it’d just be for the mission if he did- and he should- make the offender pay dearly, direly, desperately.

The woman contemplates, too, but at a different pace, eyelids low and sleepy under the blanket of midday humidity. Contradictions are smothering: guilt for feeling guilty. But she’s an adult, and prolonging the sensation makes her weary. Best she can do is do her best, and in this case, it means to think about other things until that part of her psyche settles down. Ironically, this shift causes another part of her mind ramp up— a rather metaphysical sort about this predicament she finds herself in. Kisame, of course, is a part of it, but he is not the whole: she is unhappy about her happiness. Sadness can survive even in summer air.

Under the shade of the back porch awning, deep in a trance, it takes her a second to recognize a second shadow has layered over her, just a bit darker where she sits.

“Mm…? Oh. Thank you.” A cup of tea passes between the Uchiha’s hand to hers, ceramic hot to the touch, but not too hot as to burn in your grasp. It’s an uncanny skill he has, this perfect steep; a personality like his would be well suited for a cafe, she muses. Steam raises as the cup tilts at her lips, a mist collecting on her rose-pink lenses that sit on top of her head; they aren’t the best at being sunglasses, but they’re cute, and that’s a good enough reason to still have them. Slowly, knowing her as jumpy, the gentleman raises a finger and pokes the object, just enough that she can feel it start to part her hair.

“I haven’t seen these before.”

Despite his efforts, she blushes a little; memory of Kakuzu’s confusion over them have made her a touch bashful. “Glasses. Use them to read.” She points to the sky with a finger of her tea-holding hand, the other cupping her chin while its elbow leans on her knee. “Help with the sun.” There’s only the slightest shift— tilt of his head— as he contemplates the usefulness of tinted reading glasses.

...Strange girl, indeed. His own brew perfectly balanced above his lap, Itachi sits on the stoop beside his ward, his partner’s work and grunts as much of a buzz in the background as the bees in long-untamed rose bushes that line the property. Thoughtfully, he allows a relaxing pause before he prods the traveler further:

“Do many have such glasses where you come from?”

Lazily, a “mm-mm” negative-toned hum and shake of the head answer him. It’s like she’s sucked dry of energy. “Clear or black tinted, just like here. Bought ‘em because they made me happy.”

He takes in the details of her, lax in a noonday breeze. Rosettes— tiny and pink— adorn her white dress in vertical rows, frocked with thin, blue lines that match the powder tone of the sweater she’s tied around her waist. Certainly not attire she chose to travel in, the sort of ground to cover between here and Hoshigakure. This is merely one reason among many that she is not of Hoshigakure, of course, a fact so obvious he sees no point in berating the matter when he can get right to the heart:

“What brought you all this way from the stars, Miss Takara?”

He won’t be able to tell, but she isn’t nearly as eager as she used to be, back at the bar with her job and patrons. “I just… I don’t know... It wasn’t worth it anymore, I guess.” She shrugs, the weight of the matter much lighter upon her shoulders than it should be thanks to many, many hours of reflection. “I just wanted to be done with it all, end it the way I wanted to. On my own terms, you know? As much as I could.”

The man tilts his head even further, closer, as if proximity will assist their connection, and he answers softly. Her own words are tinged with a poison, regardless of her relaxed attitude. “...You speak of severance of an utmost degree…” His gaze is kind. It understands. “It must have been difficult.” But her eyes just look through the trees. For as warm as the cold man is, so is the warm woman being cold in turn.

“Just seemed like the logical thing. That’s all.”

“Miss Takara…” She’s just an inch away, both as he leans in and as he pulls the curtain of her mind away. “...What in particular pushed you so—?”

“Can we talk about something else?!”

It’s the first she’s ever demanded anything of them, let alone in such a tone. The woman bares her teeth and pinches her brow. The change stands out enough to warrant Kisame look over his shoulder in concern. The calm of lazy days is broken, in pieces in her fists. As such, the woman is abruptly too seen.

“I—oh…" Immediately, as if on command, she becomes as small as before. "Sorry. That was out of place. Sorry.” Itachi masks his surprise well, dipping his head in acceptance of her behavior.

“It’s understandable.” And it's no lie. Such emotional affairs...difficult to unwrap without tearing a layer or two. But still, she’s too unsettled to continue this dance around speaking her destruction, and she picks herself up from the steps of the porch.

“Excuse me—”

The cup of tea is set behind in her stead, dappling light washing over and away until she’s walked back into her home. The knight watches in silence, up until the very last bit of her is out of sight. He frowns at his fellow Akatsuki. “Are you going to—?” He won’t admit it’s too good to be true, living like this, and so it’s a relief when Itachi shakes his head. The easy way of the Sharingan is not a necessary one, to accomplish the mission. Persuasion will remain as talk.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

I wanna see you with your head wide open

Empty in the ground, gone without a sound

Just another white elm growing at the end of town

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Only in my

No...that’s not right.

Her wrists raise again to press the keys:

Only in my dar

Hm. No. No! This shouldn’t be so difficult. Her silhouette is framed by the wall of the newly dubbed “piano room”, walls blackened with indoor shade while the outside glows with color. Itachi takes it in before stepping further towards the musician, the fuchsia of her glasses becoming clearer as the branches outside fade into bright, blinding light of the sun with his changing position. She doesn’t flinch, she doesn’t look. The music simply continues:

On

…Or it is trying to.

“What’s wrong?” the raven inquires from the doorway, interloping for his real concern. His eyes need not look at the piano. “Is it not tuned?”

“No…” the woman hums, unhappily. “It’s fine. It’s… It’s me. It’s the song.” There’s such a sharp frustration in her voice that was never present before, in this past week of daydreaming together, playing house. “I’m used to it sounding more full.”

Itachi blinks. “What’s missing?”

“Instruments that don’t exist.”

A rather blunt answer for how the woman typically presents herself, now a bit of a rose like her garden rather than a shrinking violet. Well-versed with thorns, the man draws closer behind the piano bench. As he does, he notes how this woman looks as if she was made to exist in this room, now that it’s been properly attended to; floors rustic but comfortable, a soft shade of brown wood that match her boots; a seat with a blanket and pillow neatly set atop, embroidery flourishing the edges of fabrics; the birds sing hardly some feet away as they do their best to peer inside, past antique curtains and old glass; a kitschy clock with tick tick ticks as a reliable metronome. Her fingers decide to go on their own, lyrics now wayward as she pins her thoughts too sharply onto black and white. Itachi, as always, listens, but he receives more than he anticipated.

It shouldn’t be so easy to catch an Akatsuki off guard.

“You are all...incredible.” Villains live on her tongue with such love. Could anyone but of another world treasure them? But that word has more meaning, here, than just to compliment. She refuses to look up. “You have wonderful abilities. Magic.” The performer has hardly seen anything of this place, but it’s more than enough to witness a man sink into the ground and a piano evaporate in a cloud just to arrive here in the middle of nowhere. She’s eager for more, but she is afraid— afraid, for obvious reasons, reasons like the magician’s red eyes.

“Why?” This question is so rehearsed that there’s no need to focus upon it, no need to stop playing idle music. “Why me? What makes me so special?”

Itachi answers simply. “You know why, Miss Takara.” But she shakes her head to this.

“Kind of. But. I don’t! Not why I’m here. Not what I’m useful for. Itachi, I-- I didn’t come here on purpose. I just woke up. And it had happened.” He furrows his brow, every so minutely.

“No explanation whatsoever…?” It’s hard to believe not even a clue in the laws of her dimension, what can and cannot make sense. “Do you not have higher powers, where you were? Chakra?” Another shake.

“I don’t even know what chakra is! What I had was just...reality.” The word is wistful under her breath. “I don’t know how else to explain it.”

“Perhaps you can try," her confidant offers.

And perhaps that's a wrong move of his in this chess game of feelings and semantics, as now she’s fallen mute. Her hands stray from the piano. They fold on her lap. He’s right behind her, now, but she still won’t shift to see him. A phrase repeats in her head, one of the voices that’s resided like an itchy scar for years, that she’s pushed away into the crowd of the village bar, or the traffic at rush hour, or the meaningless chatter of a TV screen. Those sounds are not here to pacify the voice, to rescue her away. She has no place to hide from it now, as she wonders what color Itachi looks at her with:

What have you done today to deserve your eyes?

“And what if it’s worthless to you?” The voice objects to her worth, to how she can see what's so good about living when she contributes so little. It's a question that logically brings another next, sorrow heavy in the space between them. “What then?”

He pauses, but unlike hers it is done in precision. The performer has her own answer that she wants to hear, and he knows another cannot become until this has its say.

“Itachi... Zetsu told me something." It's hushed, it's vile, it stings the way she speaks of him. It's like how you speak of a disease. "I’ve heard you’ve done something terrible. I’ve heard that you killed people.” It is true, and yet he must pretend he is unbothered, merely allowing she continue her interrogation. “Why not torture me? Hypnotize me again? Get it over with and go back to your lives?”

...

She waits. She waits and waits and waits like each tick of the clock above her head is slowly poisoning her air. There’s nothing she can do about fate; just make it quick. But Itachi sees her as his mirror, aware of what is behind the glass of their window, light shining bright enough to blind. He knows the tactic, the reflection of questions back without answering his.

“Why are you so eager to suffer?"

“Because...—” A justification so quick breaks so easily, and so does her voice, the answer so obvious. “Because…” But can she say it? She can’t catch her breath. As the truth is spoken, it nearly chokes.

“It’s...too good to be true.” She whispers something a sin to even acknowledge. “I still need to wake up."

No more flowery words or vague analogies.

"I still need to die.”

Without her conscious say, the woman's own hands have been fidgeting and rubbing so hard they might become raw, her fingernails pinching at her cuticles to tear skin away shred by shred. Maybe if the woman keeps pulling, she’ll unravel, and this will all be done. Crying shouldn't be so hard, but she’s already shed so many teardrops for her own sake. In the time they're needed most, they do not come. Surely, this is proof that dying would be of no regret. The crow looks with sad eyes, so hurt that he's expected to see her as a vulture does carrion.

“Takara-san…” So this is what she keeps inside. Burning intensity, ice-cold flame, feels intimately familiar. Who would he be to ignore such a plea? A black cloak shuffles like crow feathers around the unoccupied side of the bench and fills her lonely space. Because he knows this suffering so well, so too is there knowledge that this isn’t the core of her being but the veneer, the protection of something precious that you want left alone, lest a glass shatter so fine it becomes diamond dust. “You don’t deserve that.” A hand with a crimson plaque gently grasps her own, pulling bleeding fingers away from their small self-destruction. The player allows it, though her hissing mind does not cease. Please don’t waste your time on pitying me. Her blood will dry on his skin.

“It isn’t about deserving it. I told you. It just...made sense to do.”

He’s getting an idea, now, of how she ended up this way, so frayed and delicate and yet so wide open to whatever comes. It’s the kind of person you are when you meet the end. The raven weaves his fingers between those of the ghost. The muscles in hers tremble with effort, as they refuse to melt into his as they craves to.

“What if you can make it worthwhile?” he proposes. “Is there nothing to enjoy? You told me you liked the rain. That dragonflies shimmer so beautifully in the sun. ...And what of us? Do you not enjoy Kisame? Perhaps even me?” A bold addition, considering his reputation, but it finally makes her flinch. The queen has been captured, a move that paid off. At first her mouth grimaces, but slowly, surely, it’s a bitter smile.

“...The guilt card…” her voice quivers, the tiniest touch of gratitude amid playful seething. “That’s what we call this back home…”

With no worthy reason not to, just for him, she gives in. She lets him hold his hand, soft flesh giving way under his. A killer can comfort she who perhaps is the next prey. The wolf and the lamb need not carry on tradition, not just yet.

“Please promise me something.”

“...Anything.” She’ll never know the weight his vow holds.

“When it’s all about to end...tell me. Whenever that becomes the plan. I have no reason to fuss over it. I don’t have anything to lose.”

But you guys.

He already spoke his seal, his dedication, and so Itachi finds it unnecessary to taint the moment with a mere verbal confirmation. Her smile becomes more genuine, and gratefully, she rubs his knuckles with her thumb. Eyes close again, this time with a closer semblance of peace, and a blind hand raises by its wrist once more. It isn’t trying yet for the melody; she merely...appreciates the notes. She lets them resonate deep in her, its echo up her bent arm and into her heart. The player studies them individually and by their own merit rather than failure to replicate a certain song, returning to the basics of what makes a sound pleasant to the ear.

With two silhouettes side by side, layered into one person with two heads in the dark, maybe there’s a new version of what “complete” means. A rendition. A remastering. A rearrangement. How can one note mean so much? To seep such emotion into cold-hearted murderers...a talent, indeed.

The next step in healing is to try move on.

“Itachi,” she repeats, about to outdo herself. “What do you like?” She beats him to the cop-out: “Besides time with me.”

While a question he’s gotten sarcastically once or twice in the past few years, it has never been one with an answer. You either know him well enough to not need ask, or you do not. And with his own mission, it leaves few worth the time to see firsthand. However...her happiness, however brief, is part of this journey now. To indulge her is to unlock his secrets. It is a risk worth taking, and so he closes the gap until he’s right up to her side and can whisper innocent things from terrible lips.

“My brother,” he begins with the most obvious, the sun his planet revolves around. He hears her murmur of surprise. “I left him when he was small. But everything I do...I do for him.” He’s never...seemed happy before. Placid, yes, perhaps even content but...happiness is what this is. She can hear the smile just underneath his collar. “When he said my name...nothing surpassed that joy. He loved playtime with his big brother. He wanted his shadow to be just as long as mine, if only to keep me safe. He loved being where he didn’t belong, just to stay beside me. ” And Itachi regrets that he cannot do the same.

Itachi’s happiness stings.

The rose leans into him more, and the Uchiha welcomes the intimacy that scratches him with her gentle touch.

“He sounds...incredible,” she repeats, though different in meaning. A cracked eye sees his free hand raise, and a finger that has sent many to hell tries to join her in heaven with a single, harmonic voice.

Ding…

It joins her perfectly, something deep from her on one end and bright from him upon the other.

“He is. He always will be.”

And that’s enough. She needs to return the favor, thinks the crow: “And what of you? What do you like?” With the question, her finger inches just a little closer to his, just a little higher in tone.

“I…” Dumb things make her heart race, as ever. Her cheeks tinge the color of her glasses. “It’s the first thing on my mind, is all. Just the first. That I miss from home. Don’t laugh.” The woman knows he will not, and yet fear necessitates this verbal ritual, this disclaimer. She knows how he would answer, that any little thing that keeps her alive is worthwhile.

“I like...cotton candy. I like how puffy it is.” She pushes back shame for not praising things of grander value to the universe, as her own existence is so very small, and its buds deserve to be nurtured by the only one who can garden for it. “I like that it’s soft. That it can be pink. Or blue. Or yellow. It’s always so pretty. It’s like a cloud from your dreams.”

Itachi’s hushed voice betrays wonder. “...I’ve never heard of such a thing.” His receptiveness puts heavy shoulders a little more at ease, setting her burden a little more upon the ground.

“It isn’t...a sophisticated taste. It’s just sugar. But it’s whipped so, so fast...that it’s like silk. It’s like spiderwebs. And then as soon as it’s in your mouth...it melts so fast that it’s gone.” She holds back an ironic comment on how this could be like other forms of joyousness, but that’d be rude to him.

“I like…” She purposefully selects something alongside her grievances with an infinitely connected world. “...Pictures of cats. Where I come from, it’s so easy to share things. To show things. And so much of it was dedicated to just showing how silly or happy or cute your cat was.” Her smile widens, sweet as the sugar clouds he can only imagine. “I love cats.” Love. That’s progress in his purview; he didn’t even have to press for such emotion. “Do you like cats?” All of a sudden, she’s looking at him, and her eyes are as bright as the morning they searched for the piano standing in front of the pair. “I like all of them, but I really like orange cats.”

And suddenly, something clicks.

He sees it now. A part of her, deep inside, is so very, very small. She sheltered it so much from the suffering in her skin and bones that this piece of her soul will never quite grow all the way up. The magician takes her question very, very seriously.

“...The brown ones. With soft tones and darker points.”

“Siamese!”

And then it happens. She laughs. She laughs unhindered and out loud and without guilt. Itachi sees something familiar, and he remembers that this is what it means to be alive. This is what peace can be...

...Is, before him, for him, now.

This is how the rest of a lazy summer day passes by. Much to the ease of Kisame's mind, he finds the woman enraptured in joy and stories and so many- many- flutters of excited hands. Part of him is so goddamn relieved he didn’t fuck up so badly that rainy night prior that he sucked all the hope out of her precious bleeding heart… But also part of him didn’t know she had this kind of energy in her, that this kind of behavior was beaten out of her with no return. So after brief surprise, it returns to grateful ease. What is it with Itachi and women…?

...No, it isn’t worth framing like this so simply, Kisame surmises, seeing the way black eyes soften with her reflection in them. So even Uchiha can feel love...

Tentatively, with the guide of a red-ringed hand, the traveler gets some help passing barefoot past the road of coals and thorns and on the way to some sort of freedom, as much as can be found in a situation with no choices. The new man is greeted warmly as he enters.

“What’s all this about?” Kisame joins in, pulling up the chair to join one old friend and one new. Bashfully, the woman releases her grasp from Itachi’s— the hold unseen by the swordsman in the first place— and presses her reddened fingertips together. “I’ve been thinking about things that cheer me up. What do you like?” she invites so quickly it takes him off guard.

The taller man looks up to his partner and either receives the permission he is seeking or does not in those dark eyes. With hesitation, as if he could make her cry with just a word, Kisame engages the childish quandary, putting his true, bandaged favorite that's normally strapped to his back in temporary second place.

“Well…” he begins with a scratch of his chin, worried it won’t be up to par with whatever preceded him, “...I quite like seafood.”

“Seafood?!”

At first he’s afraid, she’s so much louder than he’s ever heard her, but those are stars in her eyes as she jumps up.

“I love seafood!”

With slow acceptance, the blue man raises a brow and one side of his mouth. “...Is that so…?” She nods, eagerly, and so it’s impossible to hold back a chuckle. “Then we’ll make a date of it, princess.”

“Oh my gosh!” Two fists pump the air, the woman’s expression as determined as one can be over fish. “Yes! Next time! Next time we’re out!” She turns to Itachi, just a notch quieter. “...Next time we’re out?” As if he’d do anything else, he pauses before giving his own quiet nod. “Yes!”

The shadows change shape over the hours, and the three silhouettes are now in color with it so dark outside. Normally such a figure in triple-headed shape alone would be more akin to a hydra, what with 2/3 being some of the most feared men in all of humankind, but the third makes their picture mean something else entirely. Unknown, what other analogy there could be for something with three faces, but it is remarkably more sweet.

“—And you can use it to watch videos!”

“Hm? Videos?”

“Like movies! Wait, do you have movies? Films?”

“Of course we have films, we aren’t cavemen!” Though Kisame doesn’t know her movies have sound and color.

“Okay, so it’s like a film, but it’s shorter— no, it can be as long. Or longer! But it’s usually pretty short. And you can say whatever you want in them, or do whatever you want!”

“Sounds trite.”

“It is! It was awesome. I liked one channel who talked about his farm—”

“Channel?”

“Yeah, where you would post your videos!”

“Post? Hold on, princess, I thought this wasn’t a physical place. How can you post on anything that’s not, say...a billboard? A pole?”

“That’s just the word for it, Kisame, I didn’t pick it!”

“How unusual…”

Itachi watches the two banter as she tries to paint them a picture, a mere sketch in the corner of a massive masterpiece that is an entirely separate manner of existence. For someone who hated it so much, these details still make her bubble with glee, grin like it’ll all be just fine. But then it grows late, and as the moon rises, so does the dreamer’s hand to suppress a yawn. Kisame offers her a hand, though she takes before understanding his purpose.

“We’ve kept the songbird up for so long that she lost her voice!” he teases, and even though she comprehends this tone, she still shakes her head in refusal.

“No, I haven’t lost it yet. Just one last thing. One more—”

It doesn’t have to be perfect. It doesn’t have to be complete. But it can be something else.

“Itachi?”

The dying man returns her gaze. She does not flinch at his coal-black eyes.

“Help me with something?” Even as she requests, her hand is already taking his again, and an angel guides two fingers to make one chord on the piano, pressing for him in multiple lengths.

Dmmmm… Dm. Dm. D-d-dm.

“Just like that,” she explains. “Every so often, when it feels right. That’ll be a big help for this song.”

Having slumped onto the floor somewhere in the past couple subjects, she outstretches her fingers for Kisame’s hand again, signifying she’s ready finally for his aid, and she’s lifted off the ground. Once the wrinkles upon the lap of her dress are pressed off, the woman returns one again at the bench, Itachi having not moved from it. Their sides touch again. He’s numb to the thorns. The scent of rose is intoxicating, dizzying in its contrarian, painful innocence, and he notes to be wary of it in the long times to come.

“I’m going to sing for you guys.” Confident as the statement is, the next one makes it waiver: “...If that’s okay.” But she knows it’s okay, so she does not wait. An inhale winds up her nose and an exhale shoves out fear clinging to her throat. Two wrists raise and press the keys, once they pulled down her lenses so she can view her situation with rose-tinted glasses. Unspoken questions ruminate, fuel the engine of her soul:

Can we be friends?

But what if it doesn’t last?

Does it matter?

So she sings:

Only in my darkest moments can I see the light

I think I'm prone to getting blinded when it's bright

She sighs melodically, to her new rhythm, as she tries to describe to them what it’s like to want to hurt, to ache, to die, when things are getting better.

Well, this December, I'll remember

Want you to see it when I do

Oh, oh, oh

God knows I do

Suffering makes you doubt joy, joy makes you doubt that you’ve suffered. Both are veracity of being alive, and yet so easily they can be swayed to the benefit of the negative. Guilt for allowing yourself happiness: it’s something these men know, too. They need little explanation. The passiveness, as if existence is merely erosion of the self instead of the building of your mountain, your accumulation of many, great, little things. It's a form of self-harm. Itachi is perfect in his role; he knows just when to add in his given chord and give her strength.

I'm alright if you're alright

I'm okay if you're okay

It's this state, in this state I'm living in

It's just a little bit, it's just a bit

Maybe, this December, I'll remember

Want you to see it when I do

Oh, oh, oh

God knows I do

The ghost will ride joy out as long as it lasts. Maybe someday, Itachi will see how cotton candy compares to dango. Kisame tries in vain not to have this moment change him forever, for the better. Heaven doesn’t need to pass away just yet. And then as the song fades and it’s time to retire for the evening, single words between the three make each other a promise:

Goodnight.

Goodnight.

Goodnight.

We will all still wake up for each other in the morning.

[angelsleepinggurl]

𝐒𝟏:𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝟒 | 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐓: 𝘕𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘪 𝘒𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

First days suck. All of them. None were better than the others and none were significantly worse, they just sucked.

That's probably why you were such a jittery mess when you entered the office this morning. You couldn't seem to keep a smile still on your face as you focused on looking confident to freaking out because you tripped. When you opened the double doors, you pulled the push doors and apologised. As if the situation wasn't embarrassing enough, an employee walked past you and pushed the door themself before giving you a snobbish look.

God.

Your first mission, was to find Nanami so he could give you a walk-through on your job, though your memory skills weren't top-notch this morning, meaning you had to ask the people at the reception. Usually, that wouldn't have been so bad, but seeming that you were blessed with bad luck you were scared that you would have a voice crack or spit all over them.

"Excuse me?" You ask, trying hard to keep your voice steady, "Do you know where Nanami's office is?" You ask them. A young woman with chin-length jet-black hair and highlighted curtain bangs smiles up at you.

"Yeah, you just have to go to the top floor and walk all the way to the end of the corridor-"

"Weren't you here yesterday?" A young man instead, asks. He has light green eyes and messy blonde hair with dark roots.

Crikey. What's going on with all the blondes here?

"Y-Yea I was, for an interview."

"So you got the job?" he asks, only to get replied to sassily by his coworker.

"Of course she did dimwit, why else would she be here?" the man rolls his eyes and huffs before the woman looks back up at you. "Don't mind him, he's Darios." You nod, slightly overwhelmed by all of the additional information.

Darios mumbles, "I can introduce myself you know?" The woman rolls her eyes yet again.

"I'm Annalise." she introduces.

"Y/N."

"You know-"

Before Annalise can even finish her sentence Darios interrupts her, "You know she has to go to Nanami's office for an important, urgent reason, She doesn't have time for your chit-chat." Annalise opens her mouth to argue back but instead sighs.

"Sorry about that I'll let you go Y/N." Annalise sighs turning to face you as you laugh at her joke.

"Thank you and bye." You say before walking towards the elevator. Once you reached the top floor, you vaguely recognize the nerve-wracking corridor except this time the lights were on. Remembering Annalise's words you walk to the end of the corridor and are once again face to face with the obscured glass door and knock. After a couple of seconds of silence, you hear faint footsteps getting louder as the person gets closer. The door swings open, revealing your new boss; Kento Nanami. up, but your eyes don't meet his as he walks away from the door an iPad in his hand which he seems to be intensely staring at.

"Good morning." You greet, in hopes of starting up a conversation of some sort, but Nanami just nods motioning for you to enter your room.

Geez.

You let yourself shut the door behind you before taking a good look at the ridiculously spacious office. All the walls are standard white, with no texture or decoration. A tall window wall with golden framing. A large white printer and fax machine in a corner, humming away, filling the silence. You turn around and notice a plain clock also white gold lining. To your left, you see three doors, one with another obscured glass window door and gold lining, and the other two are plain white doors.

Wonder what could be in there?

You remember yourself, that there is someone else in the room with you and look back at your boss, who simultaneously looks up at you.

"Morning Y/N, you're awfully early should we get going?" He asks setting his iPad down on a corner of the business table, you open your mouth to say something but shut it instead. Nanami sees your coat and scarf folded up in your arms and your purse tangled in between your fingers. Nanami realizes that he hasn't really said much to you and just left you alone for a good 10 minutes. " Oh I'm sorry for making you wait so long, here let me take your stuff."

"Oh no, It's fine really, I can just put it down myself." Nanami stops walking towards you and stops in his tracks.

"In that case, place it on that coat rack over there." You briskly walk over to the coat rack as you neatly arrange your coat, and scarf and place your purse on your shoulder instead of your hand.

"Let's go."

As you walk out of the office, your boss explains, "As my personal assistant you're going to have to memorise my rough routine, schedule meetings, take notes, answer calls, send emails on my behalf as well as organizing events too .In summary, you'll always have a lot to do but I am sure you're capable of handling it." Nanami hands you a clipboard, which has a few sheets of paper attached to it, you flick through the papers skimming the information as you try to catch up with Nanami's brisk pace. Soon you feel the cold wind hit you and the papers in your hand, you look up and see a large garage that stretches out.

"Why are we here?" You ask him, looking at all of the reserved car parking signs.

"I need to take you through my day before you can memorise it. Don't I?" He stops in front of a car so luxurious and expensive-looking that you couldn't believe it was right in front of you. You couldn't believe you were seeing it. Nanami reaches into his pocket a pulls out a slick car key which unlocks the car in front of you.

At this point, you had to restrict your screams of complete shock to not freak out your boss. You had so many questions like-

"Yes this is my car, and you get to sit in it." Nanami says, nonchalantly answering your question whilst opening your door for you, and although you didn't say anything the look of pure excitement was still plastered all over your face Everything about this car was so perfect, it looked too good to be true, you were kinda scared to put on your seat belt in case you broke something.

Exiting the freeway, you find yourself amidst a labyrinth of streets. Tall buildings loom overhead, casting shadows on the road. Billboards and neon signs compete for your attention, advertising everything from the latest technology to local businesses. Pedestrians hustle along the sidewalks, immersed in their own worlds, while cyclists weave through traffic in dedicated bike lanes. Cafes spill out onto the sidewalk, and people are sipping coffee, chatting, or browsing in quaint shops.

You look back at him only to see him already looking at you telling you that you arrived at your first of many destinations. 

Today was going to be a long day.

𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫…

[evvy96]

Syphon - Kaldur’ahm x Reader

y/n= your name s/h/n= superhero name e/c= eye colour h/c=  hair colour h/l= hair length s/c=skin colour

“Okay team, we have a hostage situation. Somewhere near Atlantis is a submarine holding an unknown villain and only one hostage. She’s a prodigy of Queen Mera, studying sorcery. Her powers are unlike anything we’ve ever experienced before, which is the reason we believe she has been taken. We don’t know her name, but she could be in great danger.” Nightwing turned towards the team as he finished the debrief. Robin turned away from his brother, formulating a plan as he spoke. “Okay guys. This will need to be a basic team assignment. Because I’m not familiar with the ocean or its floor map, Aqualad, you will lead this mission.” With a nod, the basic team; Robin, Aqualad, Impulse (no one is ready to call his Kid Flash yet, the pain of losing Wally is still too fresh), Miss Martian, Superboy and Artemis; Kaldur explained the plan.

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

Everyone in position? Kaldur called through the telepathic link. Everyone was in their camouflage swim gear, surrounding a submarine that took the form of a large Shark. He received a chorus of acknowledgement from the surrounding team mates, followed by another voice, Robin’s. Any news from (y/n)? She might be able to tell us who was taken, her being a student of Queen Mera and all. Unfortunately not. He responded. I believe she is too deep into her new studies to contact us at this present time. We will visit her when we are finished here.

-

They had no trouble breaking in to the sub, or taking down the guards throughout the deceivingly many hallways, however, there lay a few surprises awaiting them the moment they broke through the control room doors. “Black Manta?! I thought we locked you away?” Impulse exclaimed. Kaldur’s father turned to face the intruders, a wicked grin adorning his face. “Ah, the Young Justice League. I was wondering when you would show up to help your friend. I daresay she was starting to lose hope you would even show up. Isn’t that right, dear one?” The villain stepped aside to reveal a young girl wrapped in chains and held to the floor on her knees. Her (h/l) (h/c) hair hung limply around her face, greasy and slightly matted, signifying she had been there much longer than they had first anticipated. The League stopped dead in their tracks as their eyes landed on her, a shocked gasp escaping the girls and Aqualad. “(S/H/N)!”

Her (e/c) eyes lifted at the mention of her name, the usually vibrant colour dulled and none of the hope they would normally hold. “Kal-A-Aqualad? Miss M? I-is it really you? Are you actually here?” Manta chortled, crossing over to her and lifting her chin with his finger, and filling Aqualad with rage. “Oh it’s them sweetheart. They get to stand there and watch as your magical aura is completely drained from your body and stored for the Light’s personal use.” A pulse swept through the room, sticking the team to the floor as (s/h/n) started to struggle against her chains, though too weak to cause much damage. Manta activated the syphon directed at (y/n), causing her to emit a scream of pain. The team struggled in their places, trying to get free and put a stop to the ray draining (y/n)’s life force.

Aqualad began to feel helpless. He watched as the girl he had fallen in love with get the life sucked out of her, and felt the underlying rage he had held since before Wally’s death surge to the surface. With a battle-like cry, he summoned the water that surrounded the submarine, breaking through the air chamber and surging through the hallways to his hands, the streams curing up around his arms and legs and lifting him off the floor. He charged towards his father, slamming him away from the controls and shorting out the panel. The syphon switched off and (y/n) slumped in her place, the chains preventing her from falling to the floor.

Aqualad ran to her aid as the rest of the team restrained Black Manta. Her bonds broke away with a slash of his water bearers, and she fainted into his arms. Kaldur cradled her as if she were made of porcelain, brushing her hair away from her face to reveal her pale (s/c) skin. Her cheeks had hollowed out, and the underneath of her eyes resembled a ditch that had been just shoveled out, the deep dark grey frightening Kaldur almost as much as seeing her in his father’s clutches. “I am so sorry (y/n). I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you sooner; that you had to suffer for so long. But do not worry. I will never let them get to you again. I swear on my life… my angel.” He placed a gentle kiss to her forehead, a small hum emitting from the unconscious girl in his arms.

“Ha! You think The Light will just give up all that power? They’ll try again, and when they do, they’ll make sure you don’t even live to watch her suffer. She will belong to The Light, mark my words!” Black Manta called as he was escorted to the Bio-Ship, his evil cackle echoing in the now almost empty Control Room. Kaldur’ahm lifted (y/n) into his arms, carrying her Bridal Style as he made his way to the Bio-Ship himself, refusing to release her until they has arrived back in Poseidonis and personally placed her on one of the infirmary beds to be tended to.

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

A bright white light engulfed (y’n)’s sight as her, somehow heavy, eyelids lifted, causing her to blink multiple times and a groan to escape her lips. When she had adjusted to the light, she surveyed her surroundings, determining that she was in an infirmary and that she was very, very sore. She tilted her head to one side to find the Young Justice League surrounding her bed, each of them seated in a chair with their heads down. At her groan, Superboy’s head had snapped up, his face lighting up as he saw the now conscious (y/n). “(Y/n)! You’re awake!” He exclaimed, catching the attention of everyone else, their heads also snapping up and to observe their teammate. Their relief was vocalized almost in chorus as they embraced her gently one by one, careful not to hurt her should they suffer the wrath of the nurses, or worse yet, Kaldur’ahm. (Y/n) smiled at her friends, happy to see them all, her memories of the recent events slowly returning to her. “Guys, it really was you. I wasn’t dreaming? Oh, thank the Gods! I’ve missed you all so much.” She looked around at everyone, her smile faltering as she noticed an absence. “Where’s Kaldur? Is he okay?” “He’s fine (y/n). We just sent him to eat and freshen up. He’s rarely left your side since we got here. Refused to leave before you woke up. Boy is he gonna be mad that you woke as soon as he left.” Robin explained, sending the Atlantean a message through his wrist communicator.

The team of friends spoke for a while longer before Kaldur came speeding into the room, the infirmary doors slamming open as he rushed to (y/n)’s bed, his breathing heavy as he set his eyes upon her figure. “(Y/n).” She smiled at her friend, “Hello Kaldur’ahm.” The two exchanged an awkward staring contest, prompting the rest of the team to silently take their leave, allowing them some privacy in (y/n)’s private room. “I…. I am glad you are alright. I was almost too late to save you. I’m sorry you had to go through that.” “It’s alright Kaldur’ahm. I’m here now and that is all that matters. Thank you for saving me. Robin was telling me you barely left my side since you brought me here. Is that true?” She could have sworn a blush creeped up onto the young Atlantean’s face as he stuttered out an affirmation, causing her to smile. “That is very sweet of you; you didn’t have to do that. The team told me I’ve been unconscious for around 10 days, I hate to think you’ve been merely sitting here waiting for me to wake up. I’m sorry I put you through that. This may sound strange, but I used to think about seeing you by my side when I was injured, and I for you. I had quite the crush on you when we were younger, but I never did anything about it because I saw how happy you were with Tula before we left to join Young Justice.”

Kaldur’s eyes widened as she confessed her old crush, not aware her crush had not disappeared over the years, yet gotten stronger. “Well, actually (y/n), I have a small confession of my own. You see, the reason I spent so much time with Tula is because I was trying to get over you. I liked you quite a lot when we were younger also, but I believed you had feelings for Garth, since you spent so much time with him.” A small silence fell between them as they pondered what the other had said. Had they really wasted all those years staring at each other discreetly, when they could have had the beautiful relationship they had each only dreamed of?

“(Y/n), I love you.” Kaldur suddenly burst out, walking to her side and taking one of her hands in both of his. “When I saw you chained down and in the hands of my father, I became so frightened. I thought I would lose you, and when I couldn’t move, when I had to watch as he drained the life out of you, I thought I would die myself. So when I managed to rescue you, I promised myself I would confess my feelings to you, no matter what your response would be. I understand if you do not reciprocate-” He was cut off as (y/n) pulled him forward, their lips colliding in a sweet kiss that felt as though the world around them had erupted into an explosion of colour.

When they separated, (y/n) smiled softly, gently caressing Kaldur’s cheek with her thumb. “Kaldur, I have loved you since the day we started our sorcery classes together and you accidentally knocked me down with an accidental water whip.” He smiled, leaning in to kiss her again, only to be interrupted by their friends coming back in to the room and sounding their “aw’s” and wolf whistles, from the girls and boys respectively. “Good for you, man.” Bart congratulated his friend, giving him a pat on the back. “We’ve been waiting for you two to get together since (y/n) first joined the team. You two were so obvious it was painful. How did you guys not notice that the other was head over heels for you?” he laughed, everyone else joining when (y/n) buried her head into Kaldur’s arm to hide her blush and embarrassment. Kaldur looked down at her, a smile permanently fixed on his face. Things were going to get better now, he could feel it. With (y/n) by his side as more than his friend, finally, he knew it could only get better.

[mistydeyes]

Hey, I love your writing! Would it be possible to get a MWII pair up? :)

I’m 5‘2, fairly skinny and with blond hair at chin length and brown eyes. I may be short but my personality is definitely not, I’m pretty outgoing and a people person but also need time to recharge alone. I love reading and journaling and right now my hyperfixation is everything occult like Tarot or astrology. I’m a Pisces who loves to cook and be creative and I renovate my place all the time with little DIY projects. People tell me I’m pretty funny with my rather dry humour but I’m also a good listener. Not really interested in small talk I wanna know what makes people tick.

Really curious what you’re thoughts are gonna be! Keep up the great writing ❤️

Johnny "Soap" Mactavish

a/n ahh thank you so much for requesting and your sweet comments! hope you enjoy :)

How you met: Civilian An objective from Laswell had led Soap and Ghost into the busy Saturday morning streets. What initially started as a simple "snatch and grab mission" had gone completely south. Now, both men were hurriedly navigating through an art and flea market to capture their target. "You got eyes on them, Lt?" Soap spoke through hurried breaths as he pushed civilians out of the way and tried to keep up. "He's going South," Ghost responded and Soap changed his trajectory. Unfortunately, the new change of direction led them to a denser area filled with small booth and artisans selling their craft items. Soap eventually caught up to the man and dived into him, crashing them both into a table. You put your hand to your mouth in shock as you. saw your merchandise spew across the floor. What made it worse was that this was your first time ever running a booth like this and months of work were gone. "Oh my god," is all you managed to say as the two men got up. Soap handcuffed the swearing assailant as Ghost finally caught up. "Sorry," the Scotsman whispered as he picked up a few items. You were still in shock and could feel a few tears begin to prick as you looked around at the destroyed area. Before Soap could apologize again, Ghost decided to put him to work. "I'll get him to Laswell, you help them clean and pay whatever we broke."

A peek into your relationship: "What are you doin?" your boyfriend, Johnny, asked as you leaned over your living room table and a stack of new tarot cards. This was your latest fixation and it hadn't taken you long to get a hang of it. "Just reading my future," you said as you examined the way the cards were facing and their meaning. He immediately sat down across from you with an excited smile on his face. "Read mine!" he exclaimed and you lightly laughed before shuffling the deck for him. "Alright so this is a 4 card spread for love and relationships," you said, watching him take a card and place them down. You started with the first card and noticed it was the hermit. "What does that mean?" he questioned and you flipped through the book before reading. "Your person is one who resembles 'The Hermit'' you began and he intently listened, "they are uniquely in touch with creative outlets and expression. They are gifted with such clarity as to not depend on others to achieve their vision and are able to express themselves in various ways." As you finished, you could hear him burst out in laughter. You joined in with the contagious chuckles until you asked what was going on. "I think these cards are just you trying to say you're the one for me," he flirted and you couldn't help but laugh harder in response. "Yeah try again, Mactavish, I'm pretty sure I hated you for a long time after we met."

[catcucumber-salad]

IMMORTAL HEART Season 1: The Executor

Chapter 3.

The hallways of Sector Zero were nearly empty at this time of night, nightguards and the graveyard shift being the only people walking around like disembodied ghosts in the low lighting. A woman in black and turquoise Mandalorian armor walked out of an elevator. She had her helmet off held at her side as she walked down the hallways aimlessly. These walks were comforting to her better than the great unknown she was being trained for, the unknown she’d refuse to die for, and might die for anyway.

Xera ran a hand through her chin length silver hair as she yawned, it almost 0400 and she hadn’t slept a wink. She brushed off her exhaustion and kept walking, figuring she’d just chug down a gallon of caf at early meal. She passed a few scientists exiting the main laboratory chattering something about a new subject.

Huh, must have been that crate dripping with blood they brought in last night, she thought as she passed the laboratories.

Xera spent the downcycles just walking aimlessly in the facility lately, and she wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep. She still remembered when her bunkmate was redesignated a SS- unit. She was sent into the super sublevels and was never seen again. Not long after, the files started popping up on the facility computers… video footage of the new experiments.

It seemed the entire facility had died with how quiet it had gotten since then, everyone dreading redesignation even more than they already had. The graphic carnage that was freely accessible to all of them, of their friends being injected with an unnamed serum and then the entire gruesome process of mutation which inevitably killed the victims in less than half an hour, was definitely a means of control from the lead scientist, a Kaminoan named Aldwa Ztarr.

Ztarr was a sadistic dark empath who used her power and her twin lackeys to keep everyone in line. No one called her Ma’am or Doctor as she rather forcefully demanded to be called “Mother”. One could only dream of why she demanded such. Xera had heard that before she started Sector Zero she was a mother to a force sensitive Kaminoan child, that her daughter was ripped from her arms and murdered, the act driving Aldwa to madness. Another rumor was that Aldwa was so self-centered, she saw herself a goddess, hard not since she also possessed strange unnatural abilities.

Early meal finally arrived as Xera entered the mess hall. She was given a grayish goop on a tray with some rehydrated fruit and bread that looked like a moldy dish sponge. Xera grabbed two cups of caf from the dispenser and went to sit down, by herself as always. She ate slowly, so as not to choke on the truly vile substances given to them as a poor excuse for food and she drank the caf which had the aroma of radioactive battery acid. Vaguely, Xera wondered if Tipoca City had some better food options back in it’s heyday.

After finishing early meal, Xera dumped what remained of her food that she honestly couldn’t stomach down and left the mess hall with her other mug of caf. She walked down the halls, Helmet under one arm and caf mug in the other hand as she passed more and more people as the facility woke up.

She was walking again, but this time it was not without purpose. The door to Aldwa Ztarr’s personal office looked just any of the other ones around the facility, except it just had that feeling around it. She drank the last of her awful caf and threw away the cup before taking a deep breath. Xera pressed the buzzer and awaited permission to enter. After a moment, the door unlocked and slid to the side, allowing her to walk in. “ST-01, I would say good morning, if mornings actually existed this far below” Aldwa spoke, an odd attempt at humor as she looked up from the datapad in her hands.

“Mother,” Xera bit out, bowing her head.

“I have an assignment for you,” Aldwa spoke, “it seems like your persistent requests to be sent out on field missions weren’t fruitless after all.”

Xera felt like an overloaded datapad whose processes just froze up. True, she had been bothering Aldwa for years about getting sent off world, not because she wanted to be useful, but because she wanted to escape the awful underground facility, not like she’d be able to hide from Aldwa or him anyways… “I’m afraid I don’t understand” Xera spoke, not raising her head.

“Soon we will have a success in the Executioner Project, a one in a million SS- unit” Aldwa spoke and Xera felt her gut twist at the cursed designation, “I want you to become familiar with the outside galaxy, you will begin researching as much as you can as soon as you leave this office, and when you leave this planet I want you to volunteer to become a bounty hunter.”

“A bounty hunter?” Xera questioned, “why not move within the shadows? And why me?”

“Because Bounty Hunting has you picking up all kinds of intel, and I chose you specifically for your… interests.” Aldwa spoke, gesturing to the Mandalorian style helmet under Xera’s arm. “Mandalorians are a dangerous people, you will immediately be welcomed into the fold and your combat and killing skills are unquestionable. They will accept you as a Mandalorian without a second thought.”

Xera hummed, that made sense. Deep down she was grateful that Aldwa had taken notice of her interests and abilities and reacted positively, that usually meant better treatment, and possibly a promotion. “I will begin as soon as I can Mother” she spoke and the Kaminoan smiled.

“Very well, you are dismissed.”

Xera was relieved to exit the office and as soon as the door closed behind her, she walked a little faster until she reached the elevators. She stepped inside and pressed a button that lead to the barracks level. Once there, she walked out and headed straight for her living quarters.

The quarters on Sector Zero weren’t as stark and bare as the ones on Tipoca city. Aldwa actually gave them freedom to decorate as they saw fit, so, taking advantage of the lighter rules, Xera had decorated her place with paintings of a forest and green fairylights. She sat down on the edge of her bed as she plucked up her charging datapad and began hacking her way into the Holonet and went straight to the search engine and pulled up several news articles.

“They may be biased and mostly comprised of political garbage, but it’s not a bad place to start…” Xera muttered as she began to read.

---

@aesira-of-orion

@locitapurplepink

@chaioticcoffee

@clownery-and-fuckery

@superciput

@emerie-karr

@zaya-mo

@general-ida-raven

[newtonsheffield]

Thank you for through the wire! It was beautiful, undeniably one of my favourite fics of yours. The angst was just done to perfection. It was brilliant thank you!!!

Also if you ever feel up to it, more Neddy fluff is always welcome!! I adored him announcing Kate’s pregnancy to Anthony? Could we see him meeting Miles maybe???

I'm glad everyone is enjoying the pay off from all the angst.

I might write a longer piece on this but I think there's something really beautiful in the fact that Anthony went to Kate with no expectation that she would take him back. He went to talk to her because he knew that Kate deserved to know that what they had together meant something. That she wasn't the reason they weren't together. She didn't ask too much, or push too far. The problem was his inability to be ask for the support she had asked for.

And There's something even more beautiful in Kate not being ashamed of the way she felt for Anthony, even if he didn't love her. And she can choose to take her closure, or love Anthony with both eyes open.

And they choose one another. Again and again they choose one another and the life they have together.

"Mummy! Cookie time!" Edmund's tiny voice echoed through the kitchen, his tiny slippers scuffing across the floor as she scrambled towards her, wrapping his arms tightly around her legs as she stood, sliding the cookies they'd baked earlier, him standing on a little stool in front of her, onto a cooling rack, smiling down at her son.

"Neddy, sweetheart, I told you they're too hot now. In five minutes you can have one." Kate hummed, ruffling his hair with a chuckle. So much like Anthony.

Edmund sighed, "Can Newtie have one?"

"Newton can't have chocolate, but he can have some of the special ones we made for him." Newton had appeared, as though out of thin air at the mention of his name, nudging at Edmund's hand with his nose until it rested between his ears, his tail wagging happily.

"Will you tell me when it's time?"

Kate hummed, bending to pick him up, settling him against her hip with a kiss to his head, her chest tightening happily as he melted against her, his tiny face pressed against her neck. "Of course I will, you did such a good job today."

Edmund had insisted on coming with her to work today, the smallest of her camera bags dwarfing him completely as they'd walked onto the set, all thoughts of being any real help to her abandoned as soon as he'd seen his Aunt in hair and makeup and the catering trolley, but he had looked awfully sweet, longing lovingly at a slice of chocolate cake that had just been delivered, the reflector he was holding dipping into the shot several times, bonking Daphne on the head.

"Can I touch my brother?"

Kate's heart clenched at his tiny voice, muffled against her, nodding softly. "Let's sit on the couch huh?"

They made their way back through the living room, settling on the sofa so he was lying the length of her, Newton on her legs, never far away from Edmund, as though he'd taken it as his personal mission to protect him.

Edmund had been so excited from the minute he'd found out, even now when the swell of her stomach had barely started to show, he sprinted around telling everyone, sighing to Gregory's new girlfriend Lucy who was still looking around nervously, not quite sure what to do in the unfamiliar environment when a two year old scrambled onto your lap.

"Neddy, buddy, can you ask before you climb on people?" Anthony had sighed, casting Lucy an apologetic look.

"Oh it's fine, he's very sweet." Lucy had hummed, and then Edmund had made his true intentions known.

"My Mummy's making a new baby!"

Lucy had gasped excitedly. "Edmund you must be so excited!"

"You can call me Neddy." He'd sighed, "Edmund was my grampa my papa's papa. Uncle greggy's too. He was really special to my papa. I'm named after two Grampas. But everyone calls me Neddy."

Kate's heart had fluttered at his explanation, the question ignored as he settled his chin on Lucy's shoulder.

"That's very special, Neddy." She hummed, glancing around the room a little aware of all the eyes on her on. "My real name is Lucinda but I don't like that very much so everyone calls me Lucy."

Edmund had nodded, his hand darting out, curling around the ends of Lucy's hair, "I like Lucy better too. You're very pretty, I think."

"Steady on there Neddy Teddy." Gregory had chuckled kissing his nephew's head.

"I'm excited to be a big brother." Edmund had said suddenly, high fiving Gregory. "You asked before. I wanna be a good big brother. Like my papa."

Kate's heart had clenched again when Anthony's hand had tightened on her waist, watching their son with a slightly awed expression as though he couldn't believe he existed.

"My Papa is Uncle Greggy's big brother."

Lucy had nodded very seriously, "And you want to be just like your papa?"

"Yeah! He's so cool!" Edmund had crowed! "Look how tall he is! He said one day I'll be as big as him."

"Well I'm sure you will, Neddy."

"Are you going to make a baby for Uncle Greggy?"

The entire room had stopped, a slightly awed guffaw bursting from Hyacinth's lips as Kate let out a stunned gasp, darting forward.

"Lucy, I am so sorry. Neddy, sweetheart, you can't ask ladies when they're going to have babies. It's not something we can ask."

Lucy, barely twenty, looked more than a little mortified as she cleared her throat, "That's okay, Kate. Um- Neddy, not right now."

Edmund had sighed, "Sorry. Uncle Greggy is my favourite, I want him to have a baby. so I can have a new cousin. Like Jem."

"Christ he really is Anthony and Kate's isn't he?" Benedict had chuckled, "No punches pulled there."

Kate had cleared her throat as Gregory had roared, plucking him off Lucy's lap with a Come on trouble. "I'm so sorry, my sister had a baby in December and with the new baby he thinks everyone's... I'm sorry he's just excited."

But Lucy had shaken her head, smiling gently, "No, don't be, he's very sweet. You're very lucky."

And Didn't Kate know it. If there was one thing she was thankful for when she thought about everything she and Anthony had fought for it was that they'd never take each other for granted, never take their family for granted.

Edmund hummed, his hand pressed against the swell of her stomach. "Mummy! It moved!"

She'd felt the tiny kicks before, just as she had with Edmund, but this felt so different, to share this with him, his tiny face smiling excitedly at her.

"They did move. You used to do that too."

Edmund gasped, "Did I?!"

Kate nodded, brushing his hair back from his eyes, "Me and papa used to stay up all night and feel you move, we were so excited to see you."

"And now I'm here. You get to see me all the time." He looked so much like Anthony, his little brow furrowing, yoda slippers kicking in the air.

"Yeah I get to see you all the time."

"Do you think the baby will want to play with me?" Neddy sighed, pressing his ear to her stomach.

"Mmm he won't be able to for a little while sweetheart but after that, of course."

Edmund sighed dramatically, his chin resting on her stomach "I can wait." And then, "Is it cookie time yet?"

Kate had thought it might fade, his excitement, but he only got more and more excited. And finally it was time.

Kate was still exhausted, her heart clenching as Anthony sat beside her on the bed, tears in his eyes as he looked at their new son. Miles Anthony Bridgerton

"He is so beautiful." Anthony said gently, his voice choked, "Kate, I'm so lucky to have you and the boys. I love you so much."

She'd nodded against him, tears in her own eyes, "I love you too. So much."

The door had swung open with no fanfare, Edmund scrambling inside dragging a slightly harried looking Mary behind him.

"Where's the baby?!"

"He's right here, Sprout." Anthony said, gesturing him over. "But Neddy, you have to be real gentle, because Mummy's very tired and Miles is very small."

"Miles?! Is that him?!" He was craning his little neck up at Anthony's arms, standing on his toes before scrambling onto the bed. his eyes casting over Kate in concern. "Mummy, are you okay?"

Kate leaned forward, brushing her lips against his hair. "I'm great, are you ready to hold your brother?"

Edmund nodded gently, brow furrowing seriously as Kate showed him how to hold his arms, "Papa, can I? I'll be really gentle."

Edmund took a shuddering breath as Anthony placed Miles in his arms, practically vibrating with excitement. "I'm gonna take good care of you. I can teach you how to play fetch with Newtie, and how to help Mummy at work, and make cookies."

Kate couldn't stop the tears rolling down her cheeks as she watched her sons together, his voice so excited when he spun towards Mary.

"GrammaMary! Come look at my new baby! He's nearly as cool as Uncle Greggy!"

[lavender-lucifer]

tags/warnings -18 plus content!, dubcon, smut, thigh fucking, toxic behaviors, dark content, swearing, reader has a vag and wears a skirt, reader is called slut (once) , mammon is mean, possessiveness

wc- ~1.1k (bro I lost my mind)

okay but what about bully!mammon who we all know takes a weird interest in you the second you arrive to the Devildom. like yeah, he's annoyed he has to babysit you but you're kind of interesting and he hasn't gotten to interact with humans in a long time so he throws caution to the wind.

bully!mammon who has to follow you everywhere because,"yer gonna get hurt and then I'll get in trouble." and at first you're like sure, whatever but that thought changes quickly when he starts moving into your room and invading your personally space. he does it because you're just so easy to rile up yelping out a, "mammon! get out!" when he walks in on you changing, eyes lingering on your naked figure much too long than he should have. it's not his fault he hasn't had this much fun in centuries.

when you're at RAD walking to your next class bully!mammon corners you by your locker, body caging you in leaving you with no chance of escape. he loves to see you squirm under his gaze and watch your face flush with colour.

"do I make you nervous?" he's teasing you. basking in your innocence as he tucks a piece of hair behind you ear. you can feel his breath tickle your skin sending shivers down your spine and your thighs to clench together. he brings a finger to trail across your jawline before he cups your chin and licks your cheek. he feeds off your embarrassment and leaves with a chuckle, leaving you alone in the hall. he knows he has you in his clutches now.

bully!mammon who starts spreading some outlandish rumors about you in order to keep you for himself. he lives with you after all so what demon would think he's lying? there's an evil twinkle in his eye when he catches you trying to talk to some lesser demons before they shun you, leaving you standing all alone in their wake. all he can focus on is your pouty lips being wrapped around his cock.

"they being mean to you, babe?" he asks in a condescending tone, arm thrown over your shoulder, forcing you into his side. he smells like rosewood and smoke. you can't help the droop of your shoulders, maybe you don't belong here. and that's when he sees the glassiness in your eyes. tears. it fuels his need to break you. he wants to be the reason you cry with mascara splotches under your lashes and lip gloss smeared over your mouth. he makes its his mission, to be the one who wrecks you.

bully!mammon who waits for the right moment to dig his nails into you. he's been wearing you down bit by bit, pinching your thigh that peeks out from your skimpy uniform, taking your notebooks during class and poking fun at your non-existent social circle. and when you've finally had enough with his antics you make a break out of class, rushing into the corridor. mammon follows you, grabbing your hand and spinning you around to face him. finally.

"what now?" you try to sound intimidating but the way you're sniffling does little to convince him.

"yer a cry baby. ya know that?" he just needs to push a little further. you bite your lip trying to contain thee tears that are threatening to escape.

"'m not." you mumble, looking down at the ground. mammon pushes the two of you into a supply closet nearby.

"mammon!"

he's pressed up against you, hands settling on your hips. it's dark but you can make out the sinister smile he has. it almost looks like he's going to eat you alive.

"always fuckin' crying'. every time I look at ya. gonna have to give ya somethin' else to cry about soon." he pushes his hips against yours and your breath hitches. you feel his hardened length on your thigh and you become dazed.

"mammon-"

you're cut off with a kiss. it's rough, teeth clashing against each other. he pinches your hip making you gasp and give him the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. he easily win the battle for dominance, your hands go into his hair and tug. mammon bites on your bottom lip in response and you whimper.

"be gentle," you plead and mammon scoffs.

"cry baby. being mean get's you all hot and bothered though, doesn't it?"

you go to hide your face in his shoulder but he stops you, gripping your chin between his thumb and forefinger. his eyes bore holes into yours. you realize you are the prey, naive and unsuspecting and he is the predatory. it's too late, he's already made him move.

"gonna be a big girl and use your words?" he tilts his head smirks, taking in the sight as his other hand makes its way under your skirt, feather light touches on the front of your panties.

"mammon," you whine and pout, thrusting your hips into his hand. the friction isn't even a fraction of what you need as you feel arousal drip onto your panties.

"mammon," he mocks, causing your frown to deepen. god, he is going to ruin you.

"asked ya a question, babe."

"yes! like it when you're mean to me. mammon, please!" your begging sounds like a symphony in his ears.

"fuck. hold yer skirt up, yeah?" your shaky fingers hold the hem of your skirt and flip it up. you hear the zip of his pants being undone and feel your legs being nudged apart. you gasp when you feel mammons cock being slotted between your plush thighs, rubbing against your slit through your panties but it's not enough. mammon groans, your soft, warm skin feels like heaven.

"but-," you sob. you're so turned on it hurts, you can feel your clit throb as it begs for attention.

"don't drop that fuckin' skirt. gonna let me use you how I want." he groans and his thrusts speed up. pre-cum dribbles out from his tip and slicks up against your thighs. when his sticky tip rubs against your bud in passing you let out a breathy moan. mammon grips your hips, forcing your body to move to his thrusts. you look like exquisite. head tossed back, biting on your lip with your eyes screwed shut. you plead for mammon to touch you where you need it most.

"such a slut hm? sound so pretty when you beg." he feels himself coming closer to the edge, the tight hold you have on him mixed with the heat of your skin makes him dizzy.

"f-fuck. gonna come, baby," he moans. quickly he slips his cock out from your thighs and pulls the front of your panties down before he starts stroking his cock. in mere moments he cums and you feel warmth shoot out onto your skin and settle into the flimsy lace of your panties. mammon moves his lips to your neck and you whimper. He sucks on the flesh as he continues riding out his high, making sure every drop makes its way onto your pussy and underwear. the heat of his seed doesn't help the ache you feel in your core, even when you try to lift your hips to meet his. you're met with the elastic of your panties snapping onto your skin and mammon brings his fingers to cup your cunt making you whine.

"you're mine now." he grits his teeth.

"no one gets this pussy but me, okay?"

all you can do is nod.

[ninjakitty2988]

Chapter 9 you are my sunshine

Lots of fluff some anguish and some lewd!

Mitsuri Kanroji walks into demon slayer HQ with a box of wagashi and some other things she purchased from different stalls that caught her eye. She takes off her sandals and walks towards her sleeping quarters, She spots Kyojuro Rengoku outside his sleeping quarters. "ohh Rengoku, how is y/n is she still in the infirmary? I got her some wagashi and I kinda got carried away with the stalls". Rengoku smiles and laughs "I see well I am glad you had a great time, y/n is doing ok she's not in the infirmary and she will be allowed to to walk tomorrow". Mitsuri looks puzzled " so where is she then? Is she in her room, oh I go and knock on her door". Kyojuro stops her "wait she's not in her room she's..in mine for tonight I umm taking care of her she be alone in the infirmary so I am gonna keep her company, it was Kocho's idea and me and y/n made a mutual agreement that it was to be so".

Mitsuri gets thrilled "ohh Rengoku that's great! Is she asleep?" Kyojuro shakes his head "she's just getting undressed in her yukata". Mitsuri smiles sweetly " I will just wait here if that's ok?" Kyojuro nods "of course Kanroji it's no trouble at all".

You in the meantime look around Kyojuro's sleeping quarters. You find your favourite yukata and begin to slowly undress. You strip down to your underwear and grimace at your thigh pressing your lips together making a thin line. You ponder, hoping you will be able to walk tomorrow morning without Kyojuro picking you up. You don't want to keep burdening him with such silly tasks,he has better things to do than to be your personal chauffeur. You knew that he didn't mind but you just felt like you're holding him back he could have been training in the dojo or going on a mission. You start to feel extremely guilty, and tears threaten to form in your eyes. You take in a deep breath to hold back the tears from developing. You pull the fabric of your yukata over your body and wrap it around comfortably enough to sleep in and then grab a hold of the obi belt and neatly tie it around you.

You pull the tie out of your hair letting the hair length fall down freely. You take a moment to look in the mirror to see if you're decent enough for Kyojuro to come back in. You shout enough for Kyojuro to hear "I am done changing." He opens the door and smiles but his face expression changes worryingly "y/n what's wrong are you ok? Why are you upset?" Mitsuri pokes her head around the corner and immediately rushes to your side. "What's wrong y/n are you in pain?" You shake your head and look down at the floor "I am sorry Kyojuro you have to take care of me, you could have been training or going on a mission".

He walks into his sleeping quarters, closes the door and his face softens. "You're very important to me my dear Y/n I couldn't abandon you". He walks towards you slowly grabbing your chin to lift it up so you have no choice but to meet his golden flame eyes. He cups your cheeks and wipes the tears with his thumb softly and embraces you with a hug he waves Mitsuri to come and join in she immediately wastes no time to give you a hug. She speaks softly "he really does mean it y/n, he really does want to take care. I am sorry it took so long to get you some wagashi, I hope it cheers you up". Mitsuri hands over the wagashi. It was wrapped in pretty pink paper with a sakura pattern. You take the wagashi and open the wrapped box carefully.

You almost lose your balance but Kyojuro catches you in time just before you fall over and he grabs a hold of you up and he sits you down on his lap innocently. "Careful y/n." You blush intensively holding the box of wagashi firmly in your hand. Mitsuri looks ecstatic on how cute you look sitting on his lap. You blink rapidly for a few seconds, distract yourself and open the box of wagashi. You see all the beautiful pastel colours that are hand decorated in the shape of flowers. You smile sweetly with the box on your knee "oh Mitsuri Kanroji they all look so beautiful, the chrysanthemum sakura and the wisteria they all look amazing, Thankyou Kanroji this is very thoughtful I must share them with you tomorrow evening and you too Kyojuro if that's ok?"

Mitsuri looks delighted "yes of course I look forward to it after my training. I am going to go to sleep now so I will see you tomorrow evening y/n." Mitsuri walks out of Kyojuro's room, closing the door quietly leaving the two of you alone while still sitting on his lap. You close the box, place it on the floor and make an attempt to get off his lap but fails. He stops you from getting up by wrapping an arm around your waist! "Nope you're not getting up on your own like that let me help you!" You nervously swallow you stutter "oh ah ... alright" Kyojuro shifts slightly then picks you up, gently sets you down on his futon.

He walks across his sleeping quarters, and opens his draws he pulls out his navy blue plain yukata and a thin black obi belt. He takes off his haroi and folds it nearly away. He unties the small ponytail out of his flame-like hair. He starts to unbutton the top of his uniform and you look away quickly "I should be outside your quarters when you're unchanging, you did when I was changing." He turns around with the buttons of the shirts undone, you look up quickly and catch a glimpse of his toned body and his pectorals. You mentally gasp, you haven't seen his body this chiselled ever! He blinks "You don't have to leave the room." He takes off his sleeves and you see his muscular arms. You think, he must do alot of training and working out to get to this physique! "I-umm will close and cover my eyes then." He smiles and closes his eyes "very well then."

You close your eyes and cover your face, he continues to get undressed but you can hear him getting undressed. The metal on the white belt comes off with a rattling noise and then the friction sound of him pulling off his trousers. You can hear the zipper on his trousers and you can not stop your heart from pounding in your chest. You vision some lewd thoughts that flow through your mind you mentaly scold yourself! His trousers drop to the floor and you part your mouth ever so slightly. You know he's only wearing his fundoshi and you swallow nervously. Is he doing this on purpose to grab my attention in that particular way or is he doing this innocently just getting undressed? You're very uncertain and too ashamed to ask so you don't question him about it. You can hear the fabric of his yukata slip on his arms and wraps around his toned body loosely around his chest. He ties the thin obi belt tight enough for it not to come undone. He leans down to your ear and a lock of his fiery hair sightly tickles your kneck, kyojuro whispers in your ear "you can open your eyes now". now!"

[kimetsu-no-imagines]

submission request

its ur bf write me rengoku porn rn before i kiss you in electrical- u know what i want 😩 ——————————————————————————- a/n : !!!!!! anything for u babe!!!!! a request from my bf,,,,,,,how special,,,,especially when haven’t written on here in forever,,,,,, warnings ; mugen train spoilers!!!!!!!!!! s o m a n y!!!!!! mentions of rengoku/akaza fight, alternate universe where rengoku lives it’s what we all want anyway, pre-established relationship/rengoku is your husband, breeding/pregnancy kink, rengoku living and dying (figuratively) between your legs, “dirty” talk but rengoku is such a loving man i don’t think it should even be called that here, uhhhh body worship but with his eyes? its very vague but it is there, boy just loves you okay, also none of this is proof read or anything if that matters word count ; 2,728

I’m Home

When you first hear about it, of course, like his fellow pillars, you’re terrified-thankful, naturally, that your husband at least hasn’t died, but the crow sent to inform you of the events of his mission, of his injuries, doesn’t exactly try to sugar coat anything, not even for you, his spouse.

Skull fractures from dodging the punch that would have smashed his eye completely, broken ribs from dodging yet another hit that, if he hadn’t moved back fast enough, would have gone through him and killed him-the details were gruesome, they were bone-chilling, it wasn’t as if you or anyone particularly enjoyed hearing about it, but one thing was for certain-you were relieved not to have lost him to this, to have lost anyone. Tanjiro and the others were so strong, so hard-working, and they were so young, with so much to live for-you couldn’t imagine how you’d feel if anything had happened to them, either.

There’s so much about it that pains you-not being able to have your husband home with you after he’d already been so busy with this mission and the ones before it, knowing how injured he was and how long it’d take him to recover at the Butterfly Estate, it was all… Torture. Not that you couldn’t go see him, of course-but Shinobu urged you to stay home and relax, you wouldn’t want to see him in the state that he was in, she promised you that much. Her crow did come by to personally update you on his condition every day or so, though-that was at least some amount of relief.

… Or, it would have been. You hadn’t seen any crow come by in a week or so, to the day-and yes, you kept track, because of course you did, you were an anxious wreck, and it’d already been months of your husband steadily recovering, or so you thought. Had he died from his injuries? Did something happen to the estate, were more people hurt? … Well. You supposed that was a silly thought, she lived so close to the Master’s own residence-no demon could get close enough to hurt them, with all the wisteria around both places.

You were so used to having your husband around to calm you when you thought about the worst things, like this-your heart hurt with anxiety and worry. What could you do but stand outside by the door, every day, for hours, just waiting for some sign, of a crow, of Shinobu herself, of anything?

It was another day that had gone by just like that-your feet and legs ached from keeping yourself up for so long, dried tear trails staining the sides of your face-you knew it was silly of you, you knew you should have tried to be at least a little stronger, for him if no one else, but… You just couldn’t help it. You hated this. You just wanted your husband back.

A dejected sigh leaves you as you watch the sun set for just one more moment before turning to go back inside, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes again-maybe tomorrow you’ll go up to Shinobu’s estate yourself. You couldn’t stand this for another–

“Hahaha! Now isn’t this strange! You’re running away from me!”

Your heart stops, and you freeze in place. What?

You feel him before you can turn to see him-chest pressed against your back, though soon you’re spun around and pulled up into a crushing hug anyway, and it’s all you can do to immediately start sobbing into your husband’s brightly-colored hair as you’re held.

“… Hello, my sweet,”  His voice is no longer booming and jovial like it was a moment ago, but soft, gentle and meant only for you, as he squeezes you to him-you want to worry about the injuries he was supposed to be recovering from still, but you don’t want this to end, either. You suppose, he must have just been coming around the corner and through the gate when you turned to go inside-not that it mattered, all that did matter was that he was… Here, holding you.

“You must have missed me terribly!” All hearty, he laughs with you again, even if all you can do is cry in his arms while he rubs soothingly at your back, “But of course I missed you terribly too! I tried many times to sneak out and come home to you, but Shinobu or one of the other girls always caught me-”

You missed his voice dearly, you did-and you were still crying, but you couldn’t help but lean up and kiss him. It was something you usually did to quiet him, for sure, but right now you just… Needed him. And he didn’t seem to mind, hands happily and readily sliding down to hoist you up into his arms, never breaking from you as he carried you into your home.

“… Such a beautiful shouldn’t have quite so many tears upon it, you know,”He mumbles gently against your lips, and you sniffle as you finally reach up to start wiping at them, “I-I just missed you so much, Kyojuro, I was so scared-you were almost-you could have-”

“But I didn’t, and I won’t.” He interrupts you sweetly, but firmly nonetheless, shaking his head at you, “I am fine. I am healed, my love. I am still here to fulfill my duties-and I always will be. That includes my duties to you as your husband.”

“I…” It doesn’t feel like you should believe it-after what you’d heard of his battle, knowing he’d even just encountered an Upper Moon demon, this felt too good to be real or true, and yet… There’s such certainty and finality blazing in his eyes as he stares at you, all you can do is nod.

“… Alright.”

———————————————–

… Really, all you had intended to do this evening, now that you had your husband home with you, was cook him his favorite meal and go to sleep with him, in his arms, for the first time in who knew how long, at this point. Truthfully, that had been your only goal. You wanted him to rest, no matter how many times he told you just how fully recovered he was through the mouthfuls of sweet potato you so lovingly prepared for him-and yet… And yet…

Well, you suppose you simply didn’t account for him wanting… Dessert.

“It’s been so long,” The words are mumbled around you, your flesh, as he greedily, really voraciously eats and licks you up from between your legs-you’d already known him to be feral when presented with the sweet treat only you could provide him with, but this was something else entirely, “-it’s been too long, my love, don’t you understand how very hungry I am?”

You don’t, but by no means are you going to let that stop either of you. You missed his mouth just as much as he missed your taste.

“K-Kyojuro-Kyojuro, I’m-Kyo–”

… He’s never been one to tease or deny you. And yet just as you’re about to cum, so close to the edge you could have tasted it yourself, he’s pulling away from you. His lips and chin and… Well, his face, in general, are so shiny with you-you easily forget your frustration and get lost in the blissful look in his eyes as he cleans himself with his tongue. “While you certainly are the most delicious thing in this world, my sweet,” He crawls up the length of your body so quickly, so desperate to smash his lips to your own, “-as I’ve told you, it’s been far too long. I want to feel you cum around my cock this evening. But I’m sure you have no complaint either way?” Any other day, you’d want to hit him, to get that cheeky look off of his face, but… You also can’t say you don’t want that. Maybe you really don’t have any complaints either way. “… You’re awful,” You huff up at him, but you nod, “… But alright.” … And yet he stays still. It would be so easy-you’re properly soaked, and the pair of you are completely naked, and yet your infuriating husband is just… Sitting there, hovering over you with a smile on his face. It’s a soft, loving smile-but you’ve known him so long, you don’t miss the mischief in his eyes. “… Can I not admire you, my beautiful spouse? Even for a moment, after I’ve been gone from you for so very long?” It’s not a crime for him to stare at you so adoringly-really, you’d love it if you weren’t as damn horny as you were. But... It has been a long time. He’s teasing, but as much as that’s true, you know he’s being earnest, too-his eyes flicker all over your form so carefully, meticulously re-memorizing every tiny detail about you. “... Even more beautiful then before I left you, dear one,” The way he murmurs it, so absently, it’s almost more like he’s saying it to himself, but his eyes raised to bore back into yours after a minute-clearly, he wants you to hear every word of what he’s saying, absent or not. “... Would you like to know something I thought about while I was away?” His love renders you breathless, speechless-it’s all you can do to nod up at him. “During the brief hours of respite I would get, I would think to myself... What would it be like to come back to you, our home... How would it feel, the joy of it all... And then, another thought had started to occur to me,” A sharp gasp tears through you as you feel a few fingers suddenly and swiftly beginning their work at stretching you out-sneaky man, he’d distracted you from his hands with his voice, and even then, he kept talking like he hadn’t done anything, “... What would it be like if I could come home to the sight of you all swollen and glowing with our child...?” Those words rob you of whatever meager amount of breath you had managed to regain. With your child...? “... Oh, my love, you squeezed my fingers so nicely just now,” He marvels at the sight, the feeling of you, worrying his lip between his teeth-you’re so pretty like this, is what he wants to say, but his mind is suddenly consumed by the thought he’d put into both your heads a moment ago. You, glowing with the product of your love in your stomach. You don’t fail to notice the twitching of his cock where it hangs all hard between his legs. “Do you like the sound of that, then...? Do you want to carry my children, our children, my dear one? I’ll give it to you if you just say the word-after all, what poor excuse of a husband would I be if I didn’t?” His fingers move in and out of you faster, frantic and eager to prepare you for him, now, as he almost rambles on like that-his words set your body, your insides, on fire. You do want it, you realize-it’s not something you’d given much thought to before, but here, like this, right now after spending so much time worrying about losing him? You really do want nothing more. “P-p-please, please Kyojuro, I want-please give me your children, I want it, I want you, please make me pregnant, my husband, please-” It’s not meant to egg him on, truly it isn’t-you just can’t help but beg with how badly you want it yourself. But that doesn’t mean you don’t delight in the way he seems to snap, just the slightest bit, above you, quickly removing his fingers from you to replace them with his cock-what you’d been waiting for since he laid you down in bed earlier. That felt like an eternity ago right now, though. The stretch isn’t an uncomfortable one, with the care he’d still taken to prepare you-you missed it, if anything, you missed him. And it’s clear that he feels the same-he’s gone so tense above you, arms trembling on either side of you with the restraint it takes not to move. Somehow, he still manages to keep up that bright smile of his, too. “Do tell me when I can move, my love. This is a bit unbearable with how lovely you feel!” ... As hazy as your mind was with pleasure, you couldn’t help but giggle. Even now, your husband was so... Endearing. So cute. Your bring your hands up to hold his face as you nod your head eagerly, over and over, “Please, Kyojuro-please, I want it,” You can see that he wants to worry about you, wants to ask you again to make sure-but he can’t, his body betrays him, his hips instantly slotting themselves against your own, pulling back only to quickly bring themselves back down, his cock pressing and rubbing against every bit of your insides as it moves in and out of you, over and over and over, so fast-and your husband hardly even breaks a sweat. ... His being a demon slayer, and a pillar, at that, had its perks, you supposed. His stamina was one of them. But he seemed to already be losing his composure, too, with just how long it’d been since you’d gotten to be so close. “This-this is embarrassing, haha-I feel like I could burst at any moment already-just-just thinking about how-utterly perfect you’d look, ah-” His hips stutter, and he stills for a second, to keep his own pleasure at bay for a moment-though he makes up for it with the hand that shoots down to rub and stroke at what his cock isn’t already touching, “-goodness gracious-how perfect you’d look, pregnant, my love-” As if you aren’t ready to burst, yourself. Did he suddenly forget about denying you mere minutes ago...? “M-my husband-my husband, Kyojuro, please, m-me too, just go ahead, please-please give me your child, give it to me, please-” “You’re really as difficult as you are beautiful!” The very wind is knocked out of you as you find your legs suddenly on either side of your head, as he fucks into you with a very renewed, fittingly fiery sense of vigor and passion, grunting freely every time he feels you wrap around him again and again, “I truly did want to take my time with you this evening, my sweet-how irresistible you are like this-I’ll have to savor you another time-” This position, the wildness in his eyes, the feeling and the sight of him-yes, the sight of him, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t see the bulge appearing and disappearing from your stomach-fucking into you desperately, all of it is far too much for you, far too overwhelming, but of course he revels above you in the way you clamp down on him and make a sudden, abrupt mess all over the pair of you, not to mention the futon underneath you. “So beautiful-so beautiful like this, my love-I-just the sight of you, you’re going to make me-goodness-” He leans over you and folds you in half even further, nose brushing against your neck, “I-I’m going to-I’m going to give it to you now, alright? I swear it, my love, my dear one, I’ll-I’ll get you pregnant, I promise, I promise, I--” It’s so intense, he almost roars as it washes over him, as he fills you up so completely it leaks out of you, with how long its been since either of you had any form of... Release. Your legs are released, and they flop numbly down against the plush futon beneath you-your husband can barely keep himself up, but he at least tries to be careful as he collapses against you, chuckling so happily against your shoulder while you can hardly keep your eyes open, let alone say anything. You wish you had the sense what was apparently so... Funny, right now. “... I love you, _____.” The biggest wave of tranquility falls over you, hearing those words. You can’t quite say much of anything still, but he knows-he sees it in your eyes when he looks up at your face. You love him too. Right now, that’s all he needs. “I really am so happy to be home, dear one.”

[bokugaos]

blessed is the man.

characters: konoha, bokuto

length: 2.3k

tw — incest, alcohol, aphrodisiacs, voyeurism, oral (m. receiving), nipple play, lactation

summary: konoha slips something in your sake and things don’t go as planned, however it looks more than either of you can handle.

Working for the Bokuto family is not all bad. They pay well. Coming from old money means they are rather influential as they have roots in most businesses and fields, guaranteeing that they stay in the top 5% of the country. Any illegal activities they do are actually rather negligible.

Most of the dirty work is still handled by the head of the clan and his son, leaving his grandchildren out of the misery of the business world domination. The two eldest granddaughters have been following the exact footsteps as they have come of age, each in charge of a different branch of the oligarchy.

The title of the future successor would eventually fall on the only grandson, who is actually a great authoritative figure when given the right moment and opportunity, granted, if there are no distractions around. One would argue that as the youngest of the family, you’re the one most neglected, unbound by any responsibilities and most family matters.

The empire’s grandchildren are a feat to be ogled—though that one is not necessarily described by the person who introduced Konoha to the job. Rather, it is a quiet perk that he comes to realize as soon as he steps foot in the estate, catching eyes full of you walking along the hallway with your kimono restricting wide movements, and he follows your shadow as you move rather eloquently under the moonlight.

He goes back to the same wing the following night, and the night after that, and after, but he doesn’t get to see you. Instead, what he has been getting is the sight of the grandson drunkenly stumbling in after a night in town, clothes hanging off of him sticky with spilled alcohol.

Bokuto is easy, open with affection, most often drunk and not caring as long as he gets to have fun with his friends or his bodyguards. Konoha doesn’t understand how the assigned right hand of his, Akaashi, he remembers his name, puts up with the young master. But Bokuto is actually bearable, he supposes, he is just ridiculously energetic and bubbly and up to anything that even remotely promises to take him away from handling his actual duties as the future heir.

His little sister, on the other hand…

Konoha can tell that you are just as slutty, but just more stingy about it. Under the second eldest daughter’s provision, your older sister who quite naturally drinks sake every night just because it’s her hobby—routine, as she calls it—you get drunk, too, but in the confines of your room where your kimono will slip deeper and deeper off your shoulders until it is hanging off of you sloppily and showing off the curves of your tits.

Sometimes you’ll stumble your way out into the gardens where you will lie in the wet grass, legs spread and giving anybody walking past a nice view of your luscious thighs because of course the youngest in the Bokuto empire is a raging slut that does not make a habit out of wearing underwear.

But—you’re as oblivious about those tender, smooth skin as you are about everything else in your goddamn life.

It is your own fault, really, what is happening to you. You’re forcing their hands on the issue—if only you had been more forthcoming with spreading your legs, and the staff wouldn’t have had to resort to such dire measures…

Only that’s not true. Not really. Of course they could have just let the issue lie and watch you come out of hiding; waiting until you’re in a drunken stupor so they can creep out and jerk off on you; maybe drape you around their shoulders like some perverse hunting trophy, showing your tight little ass off to a camera and spreading your cheeks wide so they can take pictures of the cunt you’re so stingy with.

The truth of the matter is, though, that Konoha doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want you to be a lewd little fuck doll, head lolling and drooling onto your own tits. He wants you aware and needy, begging for his cock and whining for his cum, crying in despair when you’ve can’t have either of them because he’ll deny you as fucking long as he can before he’ll fuck your cunt loose and sloppy.

It’s absolutely, hilariously easy to do. He gets the substance on his errand out into the city, buying them from a seedy mechanic in between jobs of collecting extortion money and fixing spare parts.

Then he mixes them into the order of sake, preferring to make sure you will be too drunk to care about any taste that might be skewered by the added dose of a chemical cocktail.

Lucky for him, you’re actually drinking alone tonight, no patronizing older sister in sight. So he, finally, brings the bottle to you, already sitting with your legs spread wide, kimono rucked up on your thighs.

And then—he just has to wait for it to hit your bloodstream. For you to get squirmy and short of breath, hips fucking helplessly into the air and nipples hard and escaping from the heavy folds of your kimono.

He waits for you to get hot and needy, to call for someone to alleviate the heat surging in your little body, and then he will descend upon you like a vulture, urging your thighs apart and fucking you until your pretty cunt is a sloppy, gaping hole—

You do get restless. Your shoulders are trembling, and your nipples plump up into fat little nubs that beg for some sharp teeth to bite and pull at them—but when you start to sing, drunkenly crawling around the tatami mats of your floor on all fours, crying like a cat in heat, you do not call for a servant to alleviate your need.

You call for your brother.

And Bokuto Koutarou, dutiful now as Konoha has never quite seen elsewhere, comes running. He watches, dismayed, horrified and horny, as your brother takes the situation in and just… has at it.

In his eyes, you can’t be more than drunk; his slut of a sister that calls for a fuck once the alcohol has finally reached a threshold that makes your inhibitions slip like the heavy fabric of your kimono slides down your shoulders. He doesn’t know about the thing Konoha has slipped you; doesn’t know that the latter has primed you to spread your legs for him so he can pull you on his cock and make you piss yourself with how good you think you’re getting it.

So in Bokuto’s mind, he has to simply be a deviant that takes advantage of his drunk little sister—and Konoha wonders if that is even worse than what he has been planning to do to you.

“Imouto,” Bokuto croons, hands hovering over your naked shoulders as you become aware of your visitor and turn around, glassy eyes fixing on him with desperate intensity. “What’s wrong? Why are you calling for me?”

There’s a sweaty sheen crawling up down from your hairline and up from your collar, making you feel so stuffy that you can’t keep your eyes open fully—but Bokuto doesn’t seem to mind. He doesn’t even seem to take notice, because he has a goal; a mission—and that is to get in his little sister’s cunt, free and unhindered, no inhibition.

You are uncoordinated, but fuelled with hot, needy determination, you manage to grab at his pants and drag them down his thighs. Bokuto’s cock is nice and plump already, and fills easily enough as you croon at it, lipping sloppily at the shaft while leaning your head against his thigh.

It looks like the two of you have done this a million times. Bokuto’s hand falls into your hair, idly stroking through it and untangling the little tie from the ends so he can muss it properly. There is no hesitation; no awkwardness. Just Bokuto tilting his hips forward a little and using his grip on your hair to guide your mouth along his rapidly fattening cock.

Bokuto is using you like a whore he’s paid for the night. He tightens his grip in your hair, pulling you away far enough that he can start to pop just the tip of his cock between your plump lips, then pull it away from you again after just a few desperate suckles and uncoordinated lashes of your slippery tongue.

“Damn… you’re drooling so much today.” He whispers when he sees the steady drip down your chin. You just stare at him, looking brain dead and horny, whining when you paw the folds of your kimono aside and show him your pussy shyly, hoping he’d do something about how incredibly wet it has become.

It’s only then that Bokuto starts to pause and question the situation. Crooning at you and pushing you to lie on you back; asking you if you’re not feeling well, but also not stopping to touch you, gently slapping at your cheek to make you open your eyes and stare at him blearily as his other hand travels down and gropes your tits.

Apparently the young master has some standards that involve his hopelessly drunk play things not being absolutely comatose as he fucks them. You are gurgling breathlessly, mindlessly arching your tits into his hand, your hips grinding up happily from where the folds of your kimono are parted, dripping steadily and stickily.

Bokuto has taken to caging you between his knees, holding your jaw in a tight grip to make sure you keep staring at him while he pinches your nipples mean enough to make you cry out even in your drunken, aphrodisiac stupor.

He feels something warm and wet hit his chest, and he looks down in confusion, mouth dropping open on a soft, mesmerized ‘o’ as he sees the quite literally milky liquid slide down his pecs where it hit him. His eyes travel to his hand, thumb and forefinger still pinched around your swollen nipple.

Your wet swollen nipple.

“What the fuck, are you...?” Bokuto’s voice breaks, higher and a little panicked. He lets go of your jaw with his other hand, grabbing at your tits and squeezing until you’re whining and squirming. Milking you. Losing his goddamn mind as liquid starts rolling from your ripe teats as you sob and artlessly fuck the air.

“Niichan, please..!” Voice trembling, you defeatedly move one of your hands over his, placed over your swollen nipple, the area puffy and supple under his fingers.

Konoha wanted to curse; Bokuto’s hands grabbing at your tits were a big obstruction to his view enough, and now your hand just adds to his frustration. He watches closely as Bokuto pinches your nubs and you moan, open mouthed and filthy, your head tipping back as milk squirts onto his hand. The sweet scent intensifies and you shudder at the feel of warm liquid trickling down his arm.

Not even pausing to think about it, Bokuto brings his arm up to his face and licks the milk off, an acute sweetness exploding in his mouth. A choked grunt distracts him from his reverie and he looks up to meet your unfocused stare. It sounds very distant, yet very .. present at the same time.

Silently catching his breath, Konoha alternates between staring cautiously at Bokuto, and sending contemplating peeks at your swollen breasts. But it seems that the young master is equally as distracted by the puffy, shiny nipple right in his face. A single bead of white is gathering and it is so tempting, Konoha wants to cry from frustration.

The arousal is so potent and thick in the air, he can almost taste it in the back of his throat. He’s not sure what Bokuto wants to do to you, but with the way his cock is already so rigidly twitching, the outcome seems guaranteed.

Bokuto drags his tongue through the sticky mess on your chest, taking his time to circle your swollen nipples, his gaze steady on your face. Keening desperately, you thrust a hand into his hair and tug him closer. He wraps his lips around the raised peak, flicking the tip of his tongue over the sensitive flesh. More warm sweetness bursts into his mouth, judging by the way you cry out and start whimpering even louder.

Konoha nearly slams his fist to the door but settles with a string of curses beneath his breath, of how he’s supposed to be kneeling there, taking your nipples in his mouth, tasting the sweet milk your body is so eagerly offering.

Not that both Bokuto and you seem capable of noticing anything else right now. Your face is contorted in bliss, mouth open on a nearly endless moan and your hips keep stuttering against his knee—the one he’s using to keep your thighs apart—craving for more friction.

It only takes a minute of the combined sensation on your nipples, one being sucked so thoroughly, circled and flicked with his warm tongue, and the other being teased endlessly by Bokuto’s tireless fingers for you to arch up, screaming, body straining as you come hard under him, wetting his thighs with your slick.

Amazed, Bokuto shoves his already wet hand down to your pussy. He looks like he is floating, the euphoric taste of your sweet milk combined with the nectar from your cunt hitting his taste buds.

Konoha just has to sit and stare from the gap between the sliding doors, mouths softly gaping, cock hard at the knowledge that the chemicals he has mixed into your sake must have induced it; proving that he can quite make your body do more, just like how he’s made you lactate like a cow.

And Bokuto just laps it all up as if he has any right to it.

Life is so unfair sometimes. 

[badassbuchanan]

Nothing’s Changed

Request: Can you please write more Bucky smut?? I love your writing!!! ❤️

Plot: Bucky’s back. And just like every other time he returns, he goes straight to Y/N. And just like every other time he returns, he brings the past back with him.

Warnings: smut and angst; soft!bucky, oral (male receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, swearing.

A/N: I’m sorry for messing with your hearts like this xo

Bucky was back from his latest mission. Y/N knew exactly what that meant. Which is why she’d booked the hotel. If her friends found out that she was seeing him, they’d never let it go. Not after what happened.

“Y/N.” He breathed out her name as the door opened, she looked even more stunning than the last time they were together, which seemed impossible to Bucky. To him, she was perfect.

“Hi, B.” She smiled up at him, her eyes glistening like diamonds. Bucky’s heart felt like it was beating out of his chest. For a moment, the whole world stopped. As they stood there, looking at each other, it was like they were seeing each other for the first time. Like nothing else mattered. Like they could take on the world together. And they tried, once upon a time. And it broke them. “Oh, sorry. Come in.”

They both let out a little chuckle as she stepped aside to let him in. She could feel her love for him flooding through her veins, feeling the need to reach out and hold his metal hand. But she quickly remembered what they’d agreed to. In order to make this work. In order to keep one other in their lives. In order to keep their hearts from getting broken.

“So, how have you been?” He asked softly, glancing around the room. He noticed the bed was still made neatly. She hadn’t been here long. Otherwise she would’ve jumped onto it by now. She would’ve gotten excited about the small details like the chocolate on the pillow, or the view. She would’ve definitely jumped on the bed by now. She’d started using a new shampoo, it didn’t smell the same as the one she was using the last time they were together. He wondered if it had anything to do with the new highlights running through her hair.

“Shut up, Bucky.” She breathed out with a chuckle, taking control as she stepped towards him and pulled his lips down onto hers as he turns back around. His eyebrows raised in surprise as the familiar feeling of her makes his head spin. It felt like home in a world where he felt so lost.

Bucky’s hands ran down her sides until they reach her hips, pulling them against his body. Y/N leaned back from the kiss, admiring his perfect face for a second, he hadn’t changed a bit. She leaned back in, Bucky taking the lead this time as he pushes her back against the wall behind her.

Bucky felt his cock twitch in his pants as she let out a little moan. Her hand coming up to cup his cheek, feeling his rough stubble against her delicate palm. She was drunk in his love. Blind to anything else. She was addicted to him like a drug. To the way he made her feel. No one else had ever come close.

“Need you.” She whimpered as Bucky pulled away from the kiss, breathlessly admiring her with his lips parted slightly. He let his metal hand wander under the shirt she was wearing, the feeling of her bare skin against his cold touch made her squeal.

Bucky felt her hands wander down to his pants, making quick work of undoing them. She moved her hand inside, squeezing his hardening cock over his boxers.

He let out a groan, his cock throbbing under her touch as he cupped Y/N’s boobs, pleasantly surprised to find she wasn’t wearing a bra. Both of his hands tugged at her perky nipples, causing Y/N’s pussy to soak her panties in arousal.

She whimpered against his lips, biting on his bottom one softly as Bucky’s tongue flicked out against hers. Y/N sucked on it softly, her breathing getting shakier as things intensified.

“You’re so beautiful.” He grunted, leaning back to watch her face whither in pleasure as her small hand squeezes his cock.

Y/N arched her back off the wall, gazing up into Bucky’s eyes as she nudges her fingers inside his boxers, ticklishly touching up and down his bare cock.

“Can I suck your cock, Buck?” She asked innocently, squeezing her palm around him as he groans in pleasure.

“Yeah, you can suck it, doll.” He replied in a husky voice, his breathing shaky too as he positioned his palms flat against the wall in front of him, either side of her head.

He watched as she dropped to her knees, her immediate reaction of licking his tip told Bucky that she was extremely horny.

She wrapped her lips around him, getting him soaked with her tongue. Bucky gasped at the feeling of his cock in her mouth.

“So big,” She licked a strip all the way down to his balls, a string of saliva dripping from her chin. “You’re gunna stretch my tight pussy.”

With that, she engulfed his length fully in her mouth. She moaned around him, sending vibrations to his base as he bucked his hips forward into her mouth.

“Fuck.” Bucky grunted, eyebrows furrowed as he concentrated on not cumming. His palms pushed against the wall, watching as her nose hit his base.

She swallowed around him, relaxing her throat to allow him more access. Her eyes squeezed shut, her boobs bouncing with every bob of her head.

Bucky stepped closer to the wall, forcing himself down her throat as she felt the back of her head hit the wall lightly. She whimpered in pleasure, she loved when Bucky got rough with her when he was horny.

Bucky looked down, eyebrows furrowed at the beautiful sight of Y/N down on her knees for him. It was at that exact moment she decided to open her eyes, to look up at her ex. They both felt a wave of pleasure take over them as they caught each other’s eye.

“Oh, fuck.” Bucky’s sudden realisation that he was cumming took him by surprise, overwhelmed by the euphoric feeling. His eyes squeezed shut as he let his warm liquid travel down her eager throat.

She hummed around him, swallowing every last drop as her fingers dug into his thick thighs. He was the only person that she’d ever sucked off. She adored it. But she’d never felt the same connection with anyone else.

“That was quick.” She raised her eyebrow cheekily, standing back up between him and the wall.

“Your mouth feels like fucking heaven,” Bucky grunted, still in his post-orgasm bliss as he cups her chin with his metal hand, squeezing slightly. “Have been practicing?”

He knew the question is inappropriate. He had no right to know what she got up to when he wasn’t around. But he wanted to know and he thought it was a subtle enough way for her not to react by slapping his chest and kicking him out.

“Only with you.” She replied innocently, leaning up to peck his lips softly, leaving him wanting more. Her reply left Bucky’s stomach full of butterflies. He was still so in love with her.

She didn’t let them dwindle in the romantic moment for too long, just in case he got any ideas. She unbuttoned the shirt he wore, licking her lips as his bare chest came in to view.

She’d always loved Bucky’s chest. The fused metal and flesh that lived on it, how safe she felt when she’d laid her head upon it every night. She craved it.

Bucky watched her, his cock still hanging out of his pants as he moved his hands around to her ass. He pulled her body flush on to his, sliding his hands inside her jeans to squeeze her ass.

His lips moved to her neck when she’d finally unbuttoned the entirety of his shirt. Her hands ran over his abs, his chest, his shoulders. Any bare skin she could get her hands on.

His cold, metal fingers skilfully nudged their way between her spread ass cheeks, feeling her arousal dripping out of her, soaking her panties.

Bucky pulled his hand out, moving it to quickly unbutton her jeans as he kissed his way down her neck. She whimpered softly as she gripped onto his shoulder tightly, one of her small hands moving to play with his hair.

Bucky pulled the stiff denim material down her legs, which she helped with by kicking them off the rest of the way.

She stood in front of him, covered only in the tiny g-string that she’d worn to drive him crazy. He felt his cock getting hard again, the sight of her driving him crazy as they stopped for a second to admire each other.

“Take it off, B.” She demanded sweetly, stepping forward before pushing her bare chest against his, helping him remove the shirt that now hung loosely on his shoulders.

“Should I take this off too?” He raised his eyebrow, looking down at her as his fingers rubbed gently across the front of her panties.

“Yeah.” She whimpered, sensitive and needy for attention. Bucky listened to her desperation, hooking his thumb into the waist band of her panties. He tugged them down her legs before letting them drop to the floor.

“C’mere gorgeous.” Bucky mumbled, pecking her lips over and over as he wrapped his arms around her, gripping the back of her thighs with his hands. He lifted her up, she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist. She kissed him back as he carried her over to the bed, leaving his pants and boxers on the floor.

Her back hit the soft mattress, Bucky on top of her less than a second later. She smiled dotingly up at him, Bucky hovering above her as she felt his metal hand move down her stomach, lower and lower until his cold finger nudged between her folds.

“Bucky.” She gasped in surprise, holding on to his neck as he smirked down at her, pushing his bionic finger inside as he watched her squirm.

She whimpered, her hips bucking as she clenched around him. Bucky leaned forward to peck her lips softly. She kissed him back, flattening the soles of her feet against the bed as she bent her knees. Bucky nestled safely between them.

“You want another one?” He mumbled against her lips, his flesh hand gripping the bedsheet next to her head.

“Mmh.” she nodded encouragingly into the kiss, biting on his bottom lip softly before their tongues start to play.

Bucky pushed another metal digit inside of her, feeling it stretch her walls to fit him. Y/N couldn’t ignore the burning pit in her stomach, her need for more of him growing with every second.

He moved his fingers in and out, fucking her with his hand. He let his thumb nudge against her clit, the action caused waves of pleasure to shoot through her body.

She moaned into his mouth, tugging on his hair as she gets off on his fingers. Her free hand travelled between them to where his cock was hitting her stomach, feeling how hard he was again.

“Need your cock, Buck.” She whined in desperation, causing Bucky to pull back from the kiss. He removed his fingers from her hole, rubbing her slick onto his aching length.

“S’gunna hurt, princess.” He warned her sweetly, knowing that she hadn’t taken his cock in so long. “You know that, yeah?”

“You know I can take it.” She reminded him softly, adjusting her hips to nudge his tip with her pussy. He did know that she could take it. And fuck, did she take it well.

Bucky nodded, lining his tip up with her entrance as he watched her face, eagerly waiting to feel him inside her. He didn’t wait a moment longer, pushing his cock all the way into her tight pussy. Bucky’s eyes rolled in pleasure at hearing the little whimpers that escaped her lips as she adjusted to his size.

“Shit.” She whimpered breathlessly, she’d almost forgotten just how big he felt inside of her. It was like she could feel him in her stomach.

Bucky felt her nails digging in to his shoulders as he tried with all his strength not to start moving. He didn’t want to hurt her.

He gritted his teeth, his jaw clenched as his head began to spin. “Fuck.” He grunted, feeling his instincts take over as he started pulling out, only to shove himself all the way back in.

She moaned loudly, her back arching has Bucky’s pace picked up. Sounds of their skin slapping together filled the room, turning both of them on even more.

Bucky’s hips rocked harshly, fucking as deep into her as he could. She felt like velvet around him, welcoming him in and rubbing against his length from every angle.

She moaned like a pornstar under him. The sound drove him crazy as he fucked into her a little harder now that she’d adjusted to his size. It was like he was trying to fuck the love into her.

His mouth hung open, his eyebrows furrowed as Bucky dropped to his elbows, their bodies rubbing against each other. She wrapped her legs around his waist tightly, giving him a new angle to fuck her from.

“Bucky.” She cried out in pleasure, his cock twitching inside of her as she squeezed her legs around him, forcing him to stay inside of her.

“Hold it.” He knew she was close, her climax growing closer with every second. Bucky’s movements were limited, her legs keeping him so deep inside of her. He loved the way he could send vibrations to her clit with his short thrusts, helping her chase her high.

Her hands moved to his lower back, digging her fingers into him as she scratched his soft skin, encouraging him to keep going.

“Need your cum, Buck.” She begged, feeling herself almost at breaking point, she couldn’t hold it anymore, it felt too good.

Bucky dropped his face to her neck as he bit down harshly on her delicate skin. Overwhelming pleasure took hold of him as Y/N clenched around him one last time.

She tugged on his hair, looking deep into his eyes as they both came in unison. Moans escaped their lips as their orgasms took over, watching how much pleasure one another were feeling. Neither of them wanted the moment to end.

—

Bucky laid there watching Y/N across the room, his chiseled, naked body only slightly hidden by the crisp white bedsheets. He wanted to enjoy the satisfaction he felt. How loved he felt. He wanted to enjoy the view of watching her naked figure disappear into the ensuite.

But he couldn’t. Because he knew that right now, she was beating herself up inside her beautiful mind. That she was reminding herself to never let it happen again, too well knowing that she couldn’t escape him. He knew this, because he felt like he couldn’t escape her either. The only difference was that she’d tried.

He laid there silently, his metal arm resting behind his head on the pillow, deep in thought as the shower started running. His mind trailed back to the day they first met. He’d remembered so vividly how gorgeous she’d looked in the sunlight. Her beauty shone so bight, she was unlike anything he’d ever seen before, he could’ve easily mistaken her for an angel.

He remembered the day she’d agreed to be his girlfriend, and every day after that. He remembered big events like the first time they had sex, when they went on a spontaneous road trip, when she met his friends, when he accompanied her to her brother’s wedding, their first dance, their first date. He also remembered the little things, like the way she smelled, that she always carried a hair tie on her wrist, their matching pyjamas, the selfies, the videos, the late night movie dates.

But with those memories came the ones of her crying, the newspaper articles of him as the winter soldier which planted countless doubts of himself in his mind, the separation anxiety she felt with him on long and dangerous missions, the lonely nights, the broken promises, but worst of all, the break up.

Bucky sighed, closing his eyes tightly as he tried to take his mind off of the heartache.

She came back into the room silently, a towel wrapped tightly around her body. She glanced over at Bucky, he looked like some kind of greek god. She had to leave before there was any sort of conversation. Before he tried to keep her longer.

“Y/N.” He called out in his morning voice, croaky and huskier than usual. She stopped where she was, half way across the room, trying to find where her clothes lie scattered. She knew what was coming, and her heart sunk.

Every bloody time, Barnes. She thought to herself. “Yeah?” She answered sweetly, keeping the mood light as she continued walking over to where her jeans were.

“Can we talk?” He asked cautiously, knowing what mind set she was in right now. He had to be careful about how he went about this. One wrong move and she’d be gone. God knows how long for this time.

“About what?” She asked, playing dumb. Bucky adjusted himself to sit up against the headboard, watching her move around the room to avoid his eye contact.

“About us.” He answered slightly more bluntly this time, his flesh hand playing with the sheet nervously.

“There is no us, B. There’s this.” She gestured to the both of them and then the bed. “But there’s no us. Not anymore. You know that.” She stopped in her tracks as she spoke, trying her best to keep it together.

“We were an us once.” He muttered under his breath, watching as her face drops. Finally. Just like that, he wasn’t putting on a front anymore.

“Yeah, a long time ago. But a lot has changed since then.” She responded weakly, shuffling on the spot as she wiggled her jeans back up her legs.

Bucky sighed, biting the inside of his lip. “I still love you.” He spoke as he watched her pull her shirt back over her head.

She shook her head rapidly, pulling her hair out from inside the collar of her top. She felt the tears well up in her eyes at his words. She could’ve kissed him. Melted against him. But she couldn’t. Her heart couldn’t take going through that kind of heartbreak again. “It’s not enough.”

Bucky sat forward, shuffling to the edge of the bed as he looked up at her, directly in front of him now. “I know we grew apart but-”

“Grew apart?” She screwed her face up, feeling her heart race in anger at his words. “Bucky you left me.”

“You knew that I’d have to go on missions. It’s my job as an Avenger.” He frowned in confusion as he grabbed his boxers from the floor, putting them back on his body. They broke up because of his career? She knew he’d come back to her eventually.

“I know.” She frowned back at him, angry that he’d think so low of her. “I supported you, Bucky. I knew it would be hard without you for so long, but I also knew that being an Avenger was what you wanted. So I stood by you. I supported you every step of the way. And how did you repay me, Buck? By not speaking to me for 6 months when you were gone! Not even so much as a text for your girlfriend who you left behind. But you had time to take Natasha on a few dates didn’t you? You had time to go out for drinks with your co-workers. You even had time for stupid press conferences that you hate so much. You had time for everything, but me.”

Bucky’s heart sunk as he hung his head in shame. The room fell silent, only Y/N’s shallowing breathing could be heard. She’d never actually confronted him about all the things he did. 

There was nothing he could say. Everything she said was right except for the part about him going on dates with Natasha, they weren't dates, but Y/N wouldn’t believe him. Bucky was naive and he thought the good times they had would make up for anything he did when he wasn’t around. He lost track of time. He lost control. And in doing so, he lost the love of his life.

He gripped the edge of the bed tightly, desperately trying to think of how he could get her back. But he’d broken her heart. Which had left him broken. He felt so lost without her.

“Fuck, Bucky. You do this every time.” Y/N sobbed, feeling a tear escape her eye as she looked to the ceiling, desperately trying to stop it rolling down her cheek as she made a quick bolt towards the door.

She’d promised herself she’d never be vulnerable in front of him again. They could fuck but that was all. That way they still got the closeness and affection from each other that they so desperately craved. But she’d never have to let him back into her heart. She’d never give herself to him emotionally again.

Which is why she beat herself up after every time she let Bucky screw her. Because it was so easy to fall in love with him. To allow him back into her heart.

“Please baby, just stop.” Bucky begged, rushing after her and grabbing her wrist to stop her in her tracks. He closed his eyes, hating himself for causing her this much pain.

“Don’t call me that.” She snapped with a sigh, turning around to face him, keeping her eyes closed. Why couldn’t she just let him go for good? 

“I’m sorry, I just.” Bucky stopped himself, sighing heavily as racks his brain for what to say. What words could he possibly say to her that would take away the pain? The pain he caused. “You said a lot has changed. But you’re wrong. A lot has happened. But nothing’s changed. I never stopped loving you.”

She leaned her head back slightly as she tried to avoid his gaze. His hands were on hers, feeling them clamming up as his nerves increased.

“I love you, Y/N.” Bucky repeated desperately, pulling her closer as he wraps his arms around her body, holding her against his bare chest.

She felt safe. She felt warm. She felt at home. Nothing compared to this.

She closed her eyes, relaxing against him. She’d missed this so much.

“I’m going out of my mind without you. I don’t know who I am anymore. I’m hopeless without you.” He sniffed weakly, his hand massaging her scalp as he played with her hair.

She knew he was crying by the softness of his voice. And she knew Bucky didn’t cry for just any reason. He was being honest. And his vulnerability scared her.

“I know that you’re hurt and I know that you’re scared because of the past. But I don’t want to spend the rest of my life regretting the fact that we never gave it another shot. Because I know I can be the man you need. I know I messed up and I want you to let me spend the rest of my life making it up to you.” Bucky pleaded, holding her as close as he could.

The warmth of his skin proved too inviting. She moved her hand up to gently wipe a tear away from Bucky’s cheek. “I never stopped loving you either.” She admitted in a whisper, loud enough for Bucky to hear.

He was right. She didn’t want to look back and regret not giving him another chance. What they had was electric, it was magical. And she hadn’t met anyone like him since.

Bucky’s heart skipped a beat at her words, testingly leaning down to peck her lips softly.

“Easy tiger.” Y/N chuckled, running her hand through the back of his hair. “We’re going to have to take this slowly, okay?”

He could feel her touch taking a hold of him, making his body bubble with emotion. “Whatever you need.” He smiled softly, catching her smile in return. “I just can’t let you go again.”

taglist: 

@harrysthiccthighss​

@annestine​

@bestofbucky​

[jkknight98]

The House always Wins.

SO I finally got the Quackity and Revivebur story finished, and its twice the length of my normal stories because I couldn't help myself but keep writing. I tried to keep the rival banter between Quackity and Wilbur natural as best I could, so I hope you guys enjoy it. Remember to drink water and eat something today.

(also to those who wonder who the witch is that I reference here and there in my stories, I'm pretty much talking about myself since I'm working “magic” to get these stories out for you all to enjoy)

Wilbur knew that this was a really bad idea, Quackity was well known for his skills in playing cards, the few games from their time in Lamanburg showed that, but damn he wasn’t interested in the prize that was offered. He had left Ranboo to work on their newest plan while he took some time to blow off steam, it took everything in his power to not explode at the sight of Tubbo working in the restaurant, of course, the scared face bastard would do this when he couldn’t get his brother, he would just go for his best friend.

Wilbur chewed the end of his thumb harshly as he paced about in the woods where he could have some peace,” Why would he go to Quackity, he is the reason he died that day….. I needed him to fully convince Tommy.” He shook his head as he lifted his head to brush his hair out of his face,” no... I can’t keep dragging him into my things…. Fuck it…. I have Ranboo though, so I have that in my favor.” His mind went back to the fish tank though, did Quackity think he was funny for filling it with salmon, he really wanted to go back and destroy that tank, but that would just play into the subtle jeers-

“Delivery for Wilbur Soot from Lamanburg!”

Wilbur turned sharply to try and find the disembodied voice that broke him from his musing. He didn’t recognize the voice and it was really startling to hear someone in the one place he expected to be alone but was shocked to find the woods around him completely empty… no not empty, Near his feat was a letter that had a few green stains on its surface. He gently reached down and picked up the letter, running his thumb over the spots and realized that they were from slime residue...which was weird, The poker chip wax seal was very telling, however. “ We just saw each other, why would he send me a letter?” He gently slipped the small pocket knife out of his pocket and swiftly cut the top open and removed the letter, wrinkling his nose slightly at the smell of Quackity’s Cologne wafted out.

To Wilbur~

I know that we only just saw each other to discuss the wonders of our new competition. I'm sure you loved the fish tank just as much as I loved your idea of a personalized Ip for your burgers, but something interesting has come up. I think we should play a game of cards together to be a show of goodwill between us before our competition fully starts, just for old times sake. I managed to get in contact with a certain witch that roams the area and they gave me something that will make the reward for winning all the more sweeter. If this is of interest to you, meet me at the needle where we talked before with Tommy at sunset.

May your business do well,

Quackity.

Wilbur furrowed his brows slightly as he read over a particular line, what could that witch provide for Quackity, and what was that reward? The subtle jabs at his burger van just fired up his anger once more, but the thought of beating Quackity was too tempting. “ Guess I need to get out my old pack of cards to practice then.”

*

Quackity sat quietly at his desk while waiting for the news, gently twirling the small bottle with his fingers, watching as the bright teal liquid swirled around the sides with each move. If what that witch said was true, beating Wilbur in this quick game of cards would be worth it for the short time he would be under his control. That would only happen if Wilbur agreed to the game,” what am I talking about, his ego’s too big to refuse an opportunity like this.” He then leaned over to look at the bottle more thoughtfully, even if he lost to the Franken freak and was forced to drink this, he would be fine and could do some recon work. You can’t hide things from someone inside yourself when you're someone like Wilbur Soot, he wouldn’t be able to help himself but brag if he won,  and that's when he would slip.

“Dab me up! My mission was successful, Quackity from Las Nevadas!”

Quackity couldn’t help but jump when heard the cheerful exclamation from the slime-human- thing that slithered its way under the door instead of opening it like he asked multiple times,” Didn’t I tell you that you have to open- nevermind, did Wilbur seem like he was going to accept my offer?” Quackity’s face hurt slightly as he couldn’t help the wide grin as he watched Charlie nod, things were going how he wanted and he now needed to be ready, the game area needed to be set up. He quickly stood up and slid the potion bottle into his pocket for safety, heading for the door with a new sense of excitement, the newest battlefield for the two needed to be set.

*

Wilbur couldn’t hide the sneer on his face as he traveled across the sand towards Las Nevadas, of course, the one-eyed bastard would want him to come at this time, the flashy colors and lights were nearly blinding. The multitudes of colors were no doubt going to cause a migraine later on if he continued to look at them, it made him wonder how Quackity could stand them, but he could guess that others would think the same about his interest in TnT. He kept his head low as he walked past the few buildings to reach the space needle, giving a mild glare to the new burger restaurant with the ‘Tubburger’ sign as he passed it, but continued with his silent march forward. The needle stood brightly before him as he craned his head upwards to look towards the top, getting the faint idea that he could see a darkened shape at the top looking down at him, but that could have been his imagination. He gently readjusted his jacket before stepping into the elevator, letting his weight be fully supported by the rush of bubbles as he let his eyes close, not wanting to look at the lights any longer. His body stuttered slightly as it reached the top, and he opened his eyes to see a simple table sat in the middle of the grand room, and at its center sat Quackity;  shuffling cards quietly. Wilbur didn't say a word as he stepped from the elevator, using a hand to gently brush the damped hair away from his eyes, and strode forward to the empty chair that was across from his rival. He slowly sat down and placed his elbows on the table before placing his chin on his hands, watching on as the other continued to gently shuffle the cards in hand, moving them elaborate before starting to lay them out on the table. Wilbur was quick to realize that the game they were playing was poker, a classic choice for Quackity, and a game Wilbur was well familiar with. He waited until all the cards were laid out before he decided to speak,” You said there was a reward involved with this little game, you going to tell me what it is before I decide to go back down the elevator because as much as I enjoy playing with you; I’m busy.”

The scared man only smiled as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bottle filled with a cyan liquid, and looked like no normal potion that he’s ever seen, before setting it in the middle of the table. “This my rival,” the way Quackity said rival made a quick shiver roll up his spine,” is the reward I was referring to, our neighborhood witch didn’t make it easy for me to get this much.”

Wilbur gently lifted the bottle and swirled it,” what does it do though, because I don’t think that you would have asked me here for a simple potion,” he paused as he thought over the second thing,” you talking about you know who right?” He grimaced as Quackity nodded,” they give me the creeps.”

Quackity only nodded,” yep, but they are good at making potions like this one, it has some very unique properties that I figured would make a fun reward for the winner of our game.” Quackity was quick in taking the bottle and setting back on the smooth table,” when taken, it allows for the drinker to shrink down to…snack size for a few hours, while also being safe from any form of physical damage.” Quackity crossed his arms and watched Wilbur closely, he could see the realization forming in those reddish-brown eyes, and the newly hungry look that matched his own,” once it wears off, the one who drank it will automatically be teleported to their last respawn point, you still interested in playing?”

Wilbur sat silently as he mulled over what he had just been told, he knew that playing cards with Quackity was never a smart decision, but the thought of having him curled in his stomach and left to Wilbur’s mercy was a hard treat to ignore. He could go back to his van and poke at his shrunken rival, or even lay down on the bed to feel the crushed form thrash between the mattress and the rest of his body. Wilbur couldn’t help the slightly sheepish grin as his stomach let out a low rumble that caused the other male to laugh loudly,” seems like your stomach spoke for you my friend, let's get started then.” Wilbur could only shake his head as he moved to pick up his cards, looking over his hand quickly and deciding he didn’t like his first pull, moving to exchange his lower card for a better option.

“So are we playing first to three, or first to three consecutive wins, any longer game and I'll starve~”

*

Quackity smiled softly as he looked over his current hand, he and Wilbur had decided on the three consecutive wins ruling, and he was currently on his second win in a row. He had to give Wilbur a lot of credit, the man could pull a bluff with the best of them and even Quackity was thrown off a few times, but he could see the slight creasing at the edge of his eyes that showed his frustration at how the game was going. He had an ace up his sleeve however, he decided to play fair for the majority of the game to see if his rival would, but things were dragging on way too long. He was swift in pulling out the ace he knew would be next in the stack, changing his straight flush into a Royal, and made a subtle move to make himself appear disappointed; but barely noticeable. He saw the slight twitch in Wilburs fingers, which showed Wilbur was excited,” Well Quackity, I think I'm about to break your streak again,” The man quickly laid out a perfect straight flush,” boom, there's no way you can beat that since I know we've already gone through the higher cards.”

Quackity let out a low sigh and he lifted a hand to lightly pinch the bridge of his nose,” Yeah yeah,” he held this pose for a moment longer to let Wilbur relax, but could help the smirk as he moved to lean forward,” but don’t you know in a game like this, the house always wins,” and laid down his Royal flush. He smiled wider as Wilbur looked down in shock, before his hands flew to the discard deck as well as the pull deck, clearly looking to catch him in his cheat. Quackity let him look, sparing a glance to the tiny amount of slime that was slithering away towards the elevator, watching the last bit of the ace card dissolve away.

“ There’s no way, I am absolutely positive that you cheated, you shouldn’t have the cards for a royal flush,” It was hard to not slam his hands on the table in frustration, but despite his best efforts, Wilbur could not find the card that should have been in the discard pile. He didn’t want to accept the fact he lost, there was no way when he had managed to slide in his own cheat card to ensure his hand, but he couldn’t ignore it at this point. He looked back up when he heard a soft scraping sound, and watched as his smirking opponent slowly slid the small bottle towards him, leaving it to sit before him as the hand pulled back and the fingers started to drum.

Quackiyt let his fingers softly drum against the table's surface as he watched Wilbur fight with his ego, he knew the man was absolutely steaming inside, but it would also kill him to show such weakness before him. He was going to be kind in this instant to let Wilbur drink the potion at his own pace, but the low rumble of his empty stomach reminded him of the fact he didn’t eat anything since he managed to buy the potion in the first place, and he wanted his reward. “Wilbur… I do think it's time for me to receive my reward, don't you think?” He fully allowed his tongue to swipe across what was left of his lips and his few exposed teeth, chuckling at the scowl he received in return for his statement, but continued to watch on with increasing impatience.

Each tap of the fingers sounded like the ticking of a clock, one he could no longer avoid, ” fine, you'll get your reward soon enough.” Wilbur quickly snatched up the tiny potion bottle off the table and popped the cork out with his thumb in a well practiced motion, feeling a little concerned when a faint vapor escaped once the cork was gone, but still brought it up to his nose to smell. The first smell that came through was an odd fruity scent that he didn’t recognize in the slightest, but also the musky smell of nether wart and a fish smell. It made him wrinkle his nose slightly, but as he took one last look at the barely hidden look of anticipation on Quackity’s face, he just decided to tip his head back and down the entire bottle. He nearly gagged as the syrupy like substance traveled down his throat, the odd fruity flavor was horribly sour and he thought he could taste something similar to fermented spider eyes, it was absolutely horrid. “Oh that tastes like absolute horse shit, you sure that witch didn’t sell you an awkward potion with a silly story.” The thought of this made Wilbur laugh, and laugh harder when he saw the look of doubt cross through his rival's face..but as he continued to laugh, the more light headed he felt. He moved one hand to rest on the table while the other moved to rest against his temple, the feeling was getting worse by the minute, he opened his to look up at Quackity… wait.

Wilbur was now looking up at Quackity instead of normally looking down at him, even when sitting he was taller, but now he was a few inches shorter than his equally shocked partner. He tried to speak, but his vision quickly darkened and he felt his body fall limply back against the chair, falling quickly into unwanted consciousness.

Quackity was quick to rush around the table to catch the rapidly shrinking body as it nearly fell off the chair when he went fully limp, the man was now the size of a small child and was still shrinking.  It was a memorizing process to watch as the normally six foot five man be reduced to the size of Quackity’s hand before stopping, this made him worry slightly, but the witch assured him that he would still be physically capable of getting him down safely. He used his fingers to gently move the miniscule man around in his palms, everything from his hair down to the glasses on his face were perfectly normal despite the change in size, it was quite amazing. He lifted the small body close to his face and frowned at the smell. It made him wonder if Wilbur showered at all, but he was determined as he slowly slid out his tongue to taste the exposed skin. He couldn't help his surprise at the taste that flooded across his tongue, it was a musty flavor that tasted way better than any meat he's ever had the opportunity to try, and he couldn’t help but lick the unconscious man again to get more of the flavor.

Wilbur groaned as the pounding in his head brought him back from his short sleep, and he could still feel the hot winds of the desert blowing on him as he tried to fully wake back up, what really shocked him away was the feeling of something hot and wet hitting the side of his face. His eyes opened to be met with a large tongue sliding away and back into the grinning maw that was right next to him, he tried his best to scramble away after giving a shocked yell. He was quickly gripped by the fingers and held still as he was pulled away from the mouth,” You absolute sack of shit, that's not a great thing to wake up to.”

Quackity couldn’t help the loud laugh at the smaller man,” Sorry Wilbur, I'm on a little bit of a time limit with my reward, I figured I’d have a spoiler before you woke up.” He lifted his other hand to gently poke the tiny face, pulling it back when it was nearly bitten. “I have to say i’m rather surprised with you Wilbur, you smell absolutely terrible, but taste rather good; like Blue cheese.” He watched the words sink in, and had to tighten his grip as the man started to thrash indignantly, clearly enraged by the comparison and his emphasis on the color blue. He made a mental note to be sure to bring that up more often during their next spat, but he didn’t want to waste more time as he lifted the squirming man until the kicking legs were level with his mouth, he wanted Wilbur to watch. “ Well Wilbur, I think it's time to show you to your room for your stay here in Las Nevadas, I hope you enjoy your stay, I know I will.”

Wilbur froze as he watched the giant mouth open wide and his legs were quickly slipped inside, the massive tongue making quick work of soaking his pants and licking at his skin, making him shiver in anger at how powerless he felt. He wanted to fight hard against the disgusting feeling, but he knew that would only make it more enjoyable for the man-eating him, so he was going to do absolutely nothing. He had to grit his teeth as his legs were slid further into the hot mouth, quickly being pressed into the rough pallet and licked roughly, his now devourer humming more at his taste. He moved to cross his arms and stare defiantly at the giant face looming before him, getting a better look at the giant scar that ran up Quackity’s face and how the gap in his lip was starting to drip saliva through the exposed teeth. He did get a moment to admire his looks however, and he had to admit the scar really added a rugged handsomeness, and he wouldn’t say how much the gold teeth did it for him. He gave an annoyed groan as he was shoved further into the mouth and the throat began its first power tugs at his legs while his pelvis fully entered the mouth. He sent an annoyed glare up at the half lidded eye that was watching his every reaction,” I thought you were on a time limit, just hurry up and let me get this over with!” The movement completely stopped for a moment other than the natural movement of the giant's breathing, but Wilbur watched as the giant lips moved to form a smirk and felt the tongue start to move with a new purpose.

He felt his face flushed as the tongue brushed against his side once he was pushed further into the mouth, clearly trying to incite laughter out of him; he didn't think Quackity would stoop that low. He soon couldn’t help the pearls of laughter that escaped him as he tried to shove at the hand still holding him and kicking at the now tightening grip of the throat, especially when he managed to make the man choke slightly from his thrashing. It gave him a bit of joy, but that changed when the head tilted back and Wilbur felt himself sliding further down the throat due to his own weight.

Quackity let his head fully lean back to let Wilburs own weight pull him further down his throat, the failing gave him a bit of a scare, but he was also having some issue breathing with just the legs. He took one more deep breath that caused the man in his mouth to freeze (i’m so dirty minded oh my goodness) and moved his hand so his fingers rested on Wilburs shoulder, and pushed down as he took a heavy swallow. This made the smaller man freak out slightly, the tiny hands moving to grip and his fingers and face, but he ignored this as he quickly slicked up the chest with saliva. He was glad the man tasted as good as he did because his mouth was slick enough to ussr the man down, and he felt a shiver of joy when the now yowling head was shoved past his lips and his tongue was quick to muffle the sound and could feel the weird sensation of Wilbur trying to speak against the flesh. He ignored it to start swallowing harder due to feeling a little light headed due the fact the wriggling form was creating a larger than he was expecting as brought his other hand to feel at the wriggling lump, and grinned when he felt the grasping hands slide off the back of his tongue. He left his hand over the lump as he continued to give hard swallows, grinning widder as it slowly slid under his collarbone and he could finally get a breath of air,” You didn't make that easy on me, that's just like you Wilbur.” He could still feel the form traveling through his chest and laid his hand over his stomach to wait till his prize entered, the organ giving a low growl to show its own excitement.

Wilbur couldn’t help the instinctual feeling of fear as he was fully shoved into the mouth, yelling wordlessly and trying to stop himself from being eaten, but was unable to resist the strength of the larger man. It was hard to breathe as his chest was held tightly by the throat as his face was assaulted by the humid heat of the mouth. He tried to yell for Quackity to stop, but his words were cut off by the tongue smacking him in the face. He was sputtering in rage before the muscles pulled him deeper and only his hands remained in the mouth, trying to grab at the teeth to slow his descent, but they were too slick as another swallow left him fully trapped in the crushing grip. He could barely move as the fleshy walls both pushed and shoved him downwards, that isn’t to say he tried, especially when he realized the secondary force rubbing at him was Quackity’s hand. He wanted to yell so badly, but with how tightly he was being compressed, he didn't want to waste what little bit of air he was able to get, especially when he slid into the tighter region of the chest. He tried to struggle harder when he slid past the heart and lungs, trying to cause any discomfort as the giant organs made his own head pound in pain due to the volume, and the loud rumble of the voice gave an extra layer of pain to his ego. His legs were suddenly forced to a stop and the walls of the throat began to force him into a painful half crouch as they tried to keep pushing him down,” Quackity you bastard-” his yell was cut short as his legs were suddenly pulled through a tight opening. It was another painful squeeze before he was roughly shoved into a space that was thankfully less tight as the throat, but the walls were sung and formed to his aching body like a wet sleeping bag. Wilbur could only brace himself partly as the walls let out a low rumble and began rubbing against him, moving up and down his body in practiced ways, trying to rub the accumulated liquid into his already soaked clothing and skin. It was at this point the resolve he was so desperately trying to hold onto shattered, he didn't want to be touched and didn’t want to acknowledge the rumbling voice that came from everywhere, so he began to mindlessly thrash in an attempt to get away from it all.

Quackity feld a mild wave of panic when he had felt Wilbur get stuck just above the entrance of his stomach, he didn't know what he would do before the large lump finally moved, and he felt slightly sick as his stomach stretched slightly to accommodate Wilbur’s size. He laid a hand over the surprisingly still form, his stomach making a low rumble as he tried to get a reaction from Wilbur, not admitting to himself that he was worried for them,” Your pretty still there Wilbur, you didn’t break did you?” The small form then exploded into a flurry of movement, he could feel what bump was either a leg or an elbow, but that didn’t matter as they equally made him feel sicker. He leaned over to try and still the movements while crossing his arms over the writhing lump, giving a low belch that brought back the deceptively good flavor, oh did he realize this was a mistake now. “ Fuck.. Wilbur stop moving around so much, all you're doing is making me feel sick, you're not going to come out the way you got in.” He gave another sickly belch before getting up from the table to get some water, feeling incredibly off balanced due to the new weight in his middle, and made his way to the elevator quickly.

Wilbur continued to thrash until he was completely exhausted, panting hard as the muscles around his spasmed slightly and were making a sickly churning noise. He fell back against the walls as he tried to gain his strength back, tensing slightly as his own stomach dropped and the whole area began to move. His mind tried to form an understanding of what was happening, and finally realized that Quackity was moving, maybe for the reason he was trying to say earlier. Wilbur couldn’t find the energy within himself to care though, he was tired and wanted to be asleep and get away from it all. He yelled loudly when he suddenly got drenched with icy water and that shocked his stressed mind back into reality,” What the fuck was that for, are you trying to drown me now?” He kicked out against the heavy weight that was pressing down on him and felt utterly confused when he both felt and heard the relieved sigh from his captor.

“Glad to see your back to normal, did you have a panic attack? You nearly made me sick, you asshole.”

Wilbur frowned but decided to not say anything about it,”I don’t know what you're talking about, this shit is only supposed to last for a couple hours right, I'm going to just ignore you and sleep it off. Once I'm back to normal we never speak about this again or so help me I will blow up Las Nevadas worse than I did La’manburg” He turned his body away from the hand and hunkered down in the surprisingly soft flesh, focusing on the giant heartbeat, and doing his best to ignore everything else of the man. He just wanted this to be over and never think about this again, even if the initial thought of swallowing Quackity seemed like a good idea.

Quackity sighed as he felt the man turn away from his touch, can’t say he didn’t blame him,” agreed, I'll be happy when you're gone and not giving me a stomachache.” He slowly stood up and made his way towards his bedroom to also sleep, this whole experience was not worth it at all. He had originally thought about trying to get more of the potion for future use, but seeing how one unwilling ‘snack’ reacted, any other would be just as bad or worse. He gave a small wave to Charlie as he passed him, giving him a quick rundown on what to do before making his way to the bedroom, and immediately laying down on it. The tiny man gave another nauseating wriggle at the rough landing, but thankfully settled back down into a warm lump.

He gently traced his fingers over the lump for a few minutes as he tried to sleep, if only the movement didn’t make him sick, this experience wouldn’t have been that bad.

Maybe a willing person would make it better.