#I'm afraid he'll wring his neck

[centergb]

umm he fights back no tyranny only anarchy

[eomayas]

love without tragedy • jww

pairing: mafia!wonwoo x f!reader

genre: angst, mafia au

synopsis: what is it called when he wont be your boyfriend but acts like he is?

warnings: swearing. mean wonwoo. toxic realtionship. reader is in her early twenties, its unspecified how old wonwoo is but he is older. reader slaps wonwoo

a/n: helloooo i cant get wonu out of my mind so here is a little drabble. he is really mean in this story but thats not how i see my man its just for the purpose of the plot 😭💕

the look he's giving you is enough to make you tremble. you've never felt fear around wonwoo—his job is inherently scary and dangerous, but you've never felt fear of him, though right now that is being put to the test. a cold shiver runs down your spine as he stares at you from across the room. you wish there was an island of distance between the two of you, and not a measly coffee table.

"w-we were j-just dancing," you try, wringing your hands together in front of you. he scoffs through his nose and smirks, but its not sweet. there is malice behind it, like he thinks you're pathetic.

"that's what we're calling it?"

sure, maybe you did do more than dance with jun. maybe he had his hand on your leg and you let him inch it up your dress. and maybe you let him kiss you a couple of times. and sure, they were on the lips, sometimes on the neck. and maybe jun ran in the opposing gang in the city, so you made yourself and your fathers mob a target, which inherently puts wonwoo in the middle of it as well. but can he really blame you? wonwoo won't go out with you, always says its not safe for you to be seen with him. what he's really saying, is that he doesn't want your father—his boss—to find out.

wonwoo stares at you, his nostrils flared and his jaw set. whats making all of this worse, is that he hasn't even yelled yet. anger is practically seeping from his pores, but hes not yelling. "well, you wont go out with me!" you exclaim, throwing your hands up.

"so you go and fuck around with somebody from the other side, all because i wont take you out?" he scoffs at you again as your bottom lip trembles. "you really are a spoiled brat, you know that?"

"don't call me that," you frown at him and he shrugs at you, unfazed by your emotional state and the words he's saying to you. other than the fact that you were kissing the opposition, you don't know why he cares so much—there are plenty of other men that work for your father that can handle this.

"its what you are—you think you can have whatever you want, whenever you want," he says bitterly.

your frown deepens, and you almost threaten telling your father, but you know he'll just call you childish. its what he always does when you two argue about something stupid and you pull the dad card. "you're not even my boyfriend, so i don't know why you give a shit," wonwoos nose twitches at the B-word, and you know you've struck a nerve. if theres a couple ways to get under his skin, its to threaten him with your dad and point out the truth to him. "im not yours to worry about. there are plenty of people who do that anyway."

when he doesnt say anything, you keep going. "and so what if jun is with the other side? he doesn't seem to mind being out with me—something you can't handle! you won't even be my boyfriend, so what i do, and who i do it with, is none of your fucking concern."

"watch your fucking mouth, y/n," you're visibly taken aback at his words and his tone. wonwoo rarely, if ever, swears at you. he'll swear in your everyday conversations, but its never towards you. not even when you swear at him, like right now, does he ever do it back.

staring at him with wide eyes, a million thoughts race through your head, the first one being: when did i start being afraid of him? "dont talk to me like that," you say, a slight tremor in your voice.

"don't pull that card now, you've been cussing at me all night," wonwoo spits, puffing his chest out. "that's that spoiled brat shit i'm talking about! you think the entire fucking world revolves around you, but it doesn't!" you can't handle his sudden change in temperament, and your hands ball into fists at your sides.

"quit fucking talking to me like that."

"i'll talk to you how i want to talk to you-" the slap happens before you even realize what you've done, your feet carrying you over to him on autopilot. its not until you pull your hand away from his cheek that you register what you've done, the hurt on his face.

anger flashes on his features, and you have a split second to panic. you tense up, waiting for him to yell at you, but instead he only takes a deep breath and shifts his gaze away from you. "wonwoo..." you whisper, bringing your finger tips up to touch your lips. a red mark in the vague shape on your hand spreads across his pale cheek, and you swallow the lump in your throat. "wonwoo, i..." you trail off, because you don't know how to finish that sentence—you are far from sorry, feeling vindicated because, in your eyes, he did deserve it.

wonwoo runs a hand over his face and opens his mouth, but rethinks and closes it into a thin line. shaking his head, he shrugs on his jacket and grabs his belongings from your coffee table. he slips past you wordlessly and your eyes trail him as he walks out of your apartment, a sort of darkness settling over the room as you're left to stand alone.

wonwoo doesn't call, and after the fifth day you start to lose your mind. the day after the incident, you hardly thought about him, and when you did, it made you angry. the second day, you started to feel his absence, but it wasn't nearly as violent as it feels right now. the tears started on the third day, and haven't stopped. its only now that the guilt has settled in, your dry phone practically taunting you every time that you touch it.

"kwannie, i miss him!" you moan, burying your face into a pillow and letting out a scream. your best friend, seungkwan, gently pats your head and you sigh, turning your head to the side to look at him. "do you think he'll call?"

seungkwan presses his lips into a line and glances around his bedroom. "y/n, you slapped him," he reminds you, making you wrinkle your nose. "and you haven't apologized yet. i would't want to talk to you either."

"okay, but he deserved it! he was being disrespectful!"

"but you put your hands on him. you should have let, like, mingyu or somebody—if not your dad—deal with him," seungkwan says, referring to another one of your fathers men. and seungkwan is right; even though mingyu and wonwoo are friends, you know that his loyalty to your father comes first, which means that you come first. any of his men could have handled it adequately.

sighing, you sit up and hug the pillow to your chest. "he is so..." you groan into the pillow and hold it there for a few seconds. wonwoo is a piece of work. he's quiet and hard to read at times, and can't always give you a clear answer on what the two of you have. he says things that hurt your feelings. but he's also a confidant, your protector, while being something similar to a boyfriend. you trust him more than you trust yourself at times, and sometimes what you feel for him is so intense you wonder if you're making it all up.

its hard to trace when your realtionship with wonwoo began. you've known him since you were 20 years old, him appearing seemingly out of nowhere one day when you came home for a weekend in college. he introduced himself politely, but hardly asked about you or offered any information about himself. you went back to campus with your brain on him and him only. it wasn't until that summer that you saw more of him, but you two hardly interacted. he was always around but never quite where you needed him. your paths hardly ever crossed, unless it was the rare times you happened to be passing by him in the hallway or kitchen. a few months later, when you were home for winter break, you ran into him early in the morning. you'd just come back from a work out and ran into him in the kitchen. he was leaned up against the island, tapping away on his phone and he looked up when he heard your footsteps. you spoke first, saying good morning and asking him how he’s been. he returned the conversation and from there, every time you saw him you two at least spoke.

from then on, you exchanged numbers. he’d text you sporadically, checking in on you and asking you about your classes, life, etc. the texts turned to phone calls, late into the night when you were tucked in and he was just getting home from whatever job he’d finished. he never really told you what he did, but you knew. when you’d ask, he’d just say he handled something for your father, almost like he was trying to protect you from his reality, but you knew—you’d grown up around this lifestyle from birth. the calls started getting longer too, going from ten minutes, to thirty, and then for an hour, sometimes more. you’d talk about any and everything, so late into the night that you’d hardly get sleep sometimes, nearly missing class or dozing off during lectures. but you didn’t care, as long as you got to talk to wonwoo.

for spring break that year, you didn’t plan to come home, having plans to go out of town with your friends. b ur you cut your trip short by two days, and came home instead. everybody was surprised to see you, especially your father who wasn't expecting you. you just lied and told him you wanted to surprise him, but that was far from the truth. you were itching to see wonwoo, even if only for a few minutes because of his other duties. it was hours before you finally got to see him, and when you did it was late. you were hot tubbing, and you heard the backdoor open, his dark figure emerging. you called out to him and he walked to the edge of the hot tub, squatting down in front of you. your heart was racing as he looked down at you, and you got goosebumps despite being in warm water. not much was said between the two of you, but it was like there was an electric current flowing between the two of you. you asked him about his day, and he gave you the answer he gives you all the time: "it was a day." and then he asked you, and you said: "better." as in, better now that he's here in front of you. you raised your body out of the water a bit, the water coming up to the bottom of you ribcage. wonwoo shamelessly checked you out, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. you moved to the edge of the tub, standing directly in front of him, his eyes darting between your bikini clad chest and your eyes. you stood up taller, this time most of your body coming out of the water, to get as close as possible to his face without touching him. he asked you: "do you know what you're doing?" to which you replied: "im positive i know what i'm doing." and then you kissed him, pressing your wet body against his extremely dry and clothed one, your hands gripping the edge of the hot tub. he kissed you with a hunger that made you breathless, and you gripped the front of his black jacket, nearly yanking him into the hot tub with you. when you pulled back to look in his inky dark eyes, you knew you were a goner.

letting out a breath, you let go and drag your hands over your face, closing your eyes. "i just don't get him sometimes," for nearly two years, you have been playing a sick game of cat and mouse with him. you think you have him, and then he'll say something to remind you that you in fact, don't. but he always has you, as much as it pains you to admit it. "h-he says he can't be my boyfriend. but when i try to go out—if i even look at another man—he goes crazy. kwan, i don't even know how he knew where i was. i didn't tell him i was going out."

seungkwan swallows and avoids your eyes. you glare at him, trying to meet his gaze. "seungkwan."

"yes?"

you hold eye contact for a second before he quickly looks away, and you gasp. "seungkwan, what the fuck!" you shout, jumping off of your bed. he holds his hands up in surrender, his eyes wide and pleading.

"y/n, i'm sorry! but he called me randomly, and said that you weren't answering! and he knew i wasn't with you because i picked up the phone, and i swear i wasn't going to tell him, but..." seungkwan trails off and you scoff, shaking your head.

"but what?"

"but... you know wonwoo: he's intimidating. and i don't want any problems with him. i'm really sorry, y/n. but i felt like i had no choice."

you frown at seungkwans words, the gears in your head turning. he had no choice? "did he threaten you?" you ask your best friend, your stomach churning. seungkwan... he's not like the rest of them. his father is also a mob leader and does dealing with your own father, which is how you two know each other. he is your longest and first friend. seungkwan isn't involved in any mob activities per his mother, who made it known that his father was not to involve her only son in any of that business. everybody knows to leave seungkwan alone, that he's like you: off limits. but clearly, your not-boyfriend doesn't know the rules.

seungkwan waves vaguely in the air and you see red for a moment before snatching your purse off of the nightstand and pocketing your phone. "y/n, where are you going?"

"i'll be back," is all you say before running out of his house and down to your car, hopping in and speeding the one place you can guarantee to find wonwoo.

pulling up to the club, you swing your car into a spot and scan the parking lot looking for his black mercedes. you spot it glimmering in the evening sun, and scoff before jumping out. you hardly have to talk to anybody when you walk in and make you way to the very back where wonwoo and five of your fathers men do business outside of your house.

a cloud of smoke hits your face when you push the door open, and you scrunch your face up. the first person you come in contact with is joshua, your fathers right hand man who you've known for the greater part of your life. when your father wasn't around, joshua was. he was more like an uncle to you, practically raising you. "hey, princess," he says, a smile on his face.

"where is wonwoo?" you ask, eyes surveying the room. you see mingyu, minghao, jeonghan, and vernon, but not the man you are here for.

"that's how you greet me?" joshua asks, tilting his head to the side. you don't feel like arguing, so you give him a quick hug paired with a kiss on the cheek. "why are you looking for wonwoo?" he asks.

you bite the inside of you cheek, trying to come up with a lie on the fly, until the door to another room opens, and wonwoo emerges buttoning the first three buttons on his shirt, followed by a dancer. your stomach drops, and you feel like laughing and crying at the same time. wonwoo doesn't acknowledge the woman and turns away from her, meeting your eye in the process. guilt and shock pass quickly over his features, before he composes himself and carries on like he didn't see him.

marching over to him, you stand in front of him as he takes a seat on the couch in the room. "wonwoo, we need to talk," you say, putting your hands on your hips. he picks up a glass of brown liquor and drains its remaining contents.

"then talk."

"in private," you say, widening your eyes. he sighs and stands up, starting to walk over to the room he just came out of. "i'm not talking to you in there." you say, a hint of disgust in your voice.

"then talk," he barks, the room quieting down a bit. your face burns in embarrassment, hating the way he's treating you. he stares up at you like there's better things he could be doing, his gaze hard.

"you're such an asshole."

wonwoo shrugs. "oh well."

"you know what, wonwoo? fuck you. i know you threatened boo the other night, so you can just fuck off! you can fuck with me—fine—but leave seungkwan out of it!"

his nose twitches like it did the other night, but this time you don't stick around to wait for him to explode. you leave just as quickly as you'd shown up.

once outside, the tears start. you lean against the side of the building and sob into your hands. you don't know how, or why, for that matter, you let wonwoo treat you this way. but he's not always like this— you've seen sides of him that prove it. but its been nearly two years of push and pull, him doing both the pushing and pulling. he pushes you away while simultaneously pulling you to him. he knows that you'll follow him wherever he goes.

[aheckinmess]

(One-shot series 3/3 chapters posted - posted regularly on Saturdays. If anyone knows who to credit for the Hizashi fanart, please let me know!)

Read on AO3.

Tags: Graphic violence, Hizashi Yamada x OC, Present Mic, Present Mic saves the day, Hizashi Yamada is a ray of sunshine, angst, hurt/comfort, smut, fluff, pro hero to the rescue, learning how to people again, no longer a puppet, wedding time

Word Count: 5,127 words

Summary: One year after breaking free of a horrible life, Ichijiku has made great strides in her mental health and trauma, as well as her relationship with Hizashi. As their impending wedding approaches, Ichijiku starts worrying about the possible roadblocks intimacy could create. One apathetic Aizawa lends his aide and advice.

Author's Note: I haven't posted fanfiction in years, but after a two-year obsession with My Hero Academia, I have more than enough content to share. This first series is pretty dark, but there's some comfort and sweetness along the way. Enjoy.

Content Warning: Smut included in this chapter.

Chapter 3: Harmonious Happenings

Ichijiku (Tigress)

"Are you ready to head home?"

"No. I need to walk around a little bit. I want to talk to you about something, but I'm not sure how to bring up the subject."

"Is this about physical intimacy with Hizashi?"

I look up at Shouta with shock and disbelief. I knew even before we became friends that he was good at reading Hizashi's mind, but damn! Is he sure erasure is his only quirk? Telepathy seems to come in at a close second. But I can't help it. Such a topic while walking down the street makes my cheeks turn pink. "Y-Yes. Am I that obvious?"

"That...was just a lucky guess." He admits with a drawl. "You've been acting a little off since he proposed to you. It's been, what, six months?" As if you're not keeping count, Logic Boi. He's your best friend.

"Yeah...the wedding will be coming up any day now." That's brought on a whole new wave of conflicted emotions. "I guess I'm just starting to get really anxious. I'm scared."

"About the preparations or about marrying Hizashi?"

"Well, a little of both. But mostly the marrying Zashi part." I admit, fidgeting with the ends of my sleeves in the autumn breeze. "This time last year I almost cut him out of my life entirely for similar reasons. But it's not the same. I'm scared because if he ends up like Kigai–"

"I'll personally wring his neck for you." Shouta finishes for me. "Hizashi is one of the most easy-going people I know. He won't take advantage of you like that. You've been with him long enough to know that. There's something else you're afraid of then, right?"

Damn Logic Boi.

"Right..." I sigh, wondering if this is a conversation I should be having with him and not my therapist. Ms. Sheila said having friends and confidants to talk to are just as important. "I'm worried that...I won't be able to be that intimate with him like he wants right away."

"Okay. Why does that worry you?"

"Because I," Warmth starts creeping into my neck. "Because I've...been able to tell that he gets excited...ahem and I've been privy to that too. So I'm scared that he'll think he's obligated to it once we're married."

"When he first wanted to kiss you, did he seem to think he was obligated to it?"

I blink up at him. "You know about that?"

"Ichi, Hizashi was bouncing off the walls before he went to that hibachi place with you. I'm surprised you got through the first three minutes without him confessing his love on the spot." It sounds so amusing with his dry delivery.

"Oh." Was I really that oblivious? Wow, guess you really are more stupider than I thought. You were still hypervigilant and afraid. It's only natural you'd have missed the signs. "Well...no, he didn't seem to think he was obligated to it, I don't guess."

"Then what makes you think he'd feel obligated to sex?" His tone isn't judgmental, just curious. I'm grateful for it.

"Well, it's different than a kiss, you know? I mean people kiss each other all the time. It's a lot easier to say no...or to stop if it gets too scary." My poor sleeves go through the wringer as I start rambling. A man passing by yells so loudly that I flinch. "B-But it's much harder with sex. If I think I'm okay to start but have to stop, I can't just tell him no in the middle like when we kiss."

"Why not?"

"Because then he'll be mad." I whimper. Eucalyptus tickles my nostrils and I grip my chest and the front of my shirt. "He'll be mad and then he'll hit me and leave me alone."

"Ichi, you're gripping your shirt. Take a deep breath." Shouta instructs.

"Shit. Not now. I'm sorry." I put my face in my hands and grip my hair. "I'm so sorry."

"Take a deep breath. You're safe. He's not here now and you're walking on the sidewalk with me. There's a fire hydrant coming up and a woman rocking her baby while she waits on the bench for a bus. The streets are chatty but not bustling and the wind is cold. Someone's selling fried rice because I can smell it from here. Breathe." He says, immersing me in my present surroundings like my therapist has advised me to do.

Rough sidewalk. Red fire hydrant. Baby crying. Screeching bus tires. Cold wind. Fried rice...with shrimp and broccoli. The visual and sensual cues help me the most. It helps ground me in the present. I inhale and I exhale and the eucalyptus starts to fade. Kigai's hand ghosts my shoulder but I focus on the white lines drawn on the crosswalk and a little girl's cheerful laugh as she swings her doll around. It was the guy yelling that sent me out of it. We're still in the present. Everything is okay. That's it, Little One. Good job.

"Thank you." I take one final breath and glance at him for a moment before I regroup and go back to my original conversation. "Anyway...it's just not the same, Shouta."

"Of course it's the same. You're allowed to tell him to stop at all times. Whether that's before or during the act." Shouta reassures me.

This is new information that makes me pause. You're being a little tease, aren't you? Telling me you want it and changing your mind? Bullshit! You're mine and you'll do exactly as I tell you! I nearly halt right in the middle of the sidewalk, but I power through, needing to have this conversation. I need to talk to someone and hopefully get some coping strategies before I have to pull through this with Zashi. Shouta's probably one of the best people to do that with. He knows him so well.

"Kigai...stopped caring about what I had to say the first time I tried to resist." I admit, tapping my teeth together in my mouth as I purposefully avoid eye contact.

"That's rape." Shouta's voice changes. He still sounds apathetic, but I've learned there are certain intonations where I can tell he's upset. This is one of those times. "Only a scumbag would do that."

"So if I decide to try but...we're in the middle...erm, doing stuff and I get uncomfortable...I can tell him to stop?" I rub my arms nervously, but not because I'm flustered about the subject now. It's because ghostly memories haunt the edge of my mind. "He won't...be angry with me?"

"Let me make this abundantly clear," Shouta begins as I unlock my door to my house and he helps me bring in my wedding finds. I have him set them on the counter while I close and lock the door. "Hizashi can be balls deep inside you and you're allowed to tell him to stop. Knowing Hizashi, who knows about your situation, he'll communicate with you how he needs to stop. If he needs to pull back entirely, if he just needs to wait for you to take a breath and continue, that sort of thing. Hizashi's not going to be angry at you for needing time to work through anything. You lived through hell for three years, Ichijiku. Both he and I and our other friends know that takes time to get over."

I can't help but laugh. Not only because it feels like a weight's been lifted from my shoulders, but also because I'd never expected to hear Shouta Aizawa say the words balls deep inside you to me of all people.

"That's encouraging to know. Thanks, Shouta."

"Of course. And if he ends up whining about it, I'll threaten to cut the circulation from his testicles and he won't have to worry about it at all."

. . . . .

Time flashes by until I'm adorned in a beautiful white dress with my hair twirled and curled in intricate fashion to frame my features. Anxieties ripple through my skin until I see Hizashi standing at the end of the aisle. My heart grows and swells inside my chest until I make it to his side, glowing with joy that he looks so awed and proud as I step up beside him. I give Shouta and Oboro a wave. Nemuri winks at me when I turn back to that side.

And then everything rushes by in a blur. We repeat our vows to the ordained and God, exchange a kiss that makes me dizzy, and then suddenly my last name is Yamada. The after party flurries by because I'd asked for a smaller ceremony, to which Hizashi thankfully obliged.

It's when we start getting closer to our honeymoon destination that I start getting nervous. Just breathe, Cub, remember what Shouta said. He won't do anything you're not ready for. That's the problem. I want to be ready for that. I have a high libido. I'm more than ready physically...but...I'm not at the same time. It frustrates me. Why wouldn't it frustrate him? Everything is going to be okay. When we finally make it to the beach house, Hizashi fully picks me up bridal style to walk me through the threshold. "I heard this was a tradition, so I thought I'd treat you." He laughs, setting me down once we get inside. He looks around. "Damn. This place is nice!"

He's not wrong. I look around and instantly feel the comfort of being in a large space to call my own for the next two weeks. "Oh, look!" There's a little basket setting on the coffee table in the living space. When I pad over to look at it, I flush with a nervous chuckle. "Eeps. It's from Nemuri." I can already see the pink thong sticking out in a folded flower and quickly walk in the other direction. "Y-You can look at that. I'm going to go try and get out of this dress."

"Would you like some help? Can you reach the zipper?" He asks as he also forgoes the gift offering for now.

I swallow, take a deep breath, and nod. "Yes, please." As much as I'm scared of what might come next, I can't get my dress off alone.

We make our way to the room we'll be staying in. My anxiety heightens as I'm innately aware of how close Hizashi is. I pull him into the master bathroom so I can start working on getting all of the pins out of my hair while watching him as he works the zipper.

"Hey, are you okay?" He asks me once he's got the dress hanging open for me to step out. I notice he's looking me over from the back, but he doesn't touch me. "Your breathing is off."

"I'm a little nervous." I don't feel the need to elaborate.

I wring my fingers and twist my newly acquired ring as I look down at it. Then I step out of my dress and start looking for my overnight bag full of clothes.

"Nervous?" Hizashi asks before his eyes widen and he seems to understand. "Oh! Oh. Hey, you don't have to be nervous, lovebug." He crosses over to me as I rifle through my bag and kisses my cheek, but doesn't even move to hug me while I'm half naked in front of him. "I won't do anything you don't want to. You excite me, sure, but tonight doesn't have to be about anything sexual if you don't want it to be." He chuckles to lighten the atmosphere. "Just don't mind me if my body responds. I'm a big boy, I'll be able to handle it even if I can't help what my body does."

I start pulling on some lounge clothes, exhausted from the long social day. When I turn to him, I carefully plant myself against his chest.

"That's...that's the problem. I want...I want you. I'm just scared of wanting you, because I'm scared of how I'll respond. I'm scared I'll disappoint you. I'm scared you'll be mad and it'll ruin everything." I swallow thickly.

He's quiet for a moment, which means a lot coming from Hizashi because he's usually so vocal. It makes me feel good to know he's really thinking this over and choosing his words carefully for me. His hands rub my back and I feel him plant a kiss on the top of my head. Safe. He's safe.

"Well, let's talk about how you want to address it then." He holds my chin delicately to make me look up at him. "Is it something you'd like to try tonight? Or something you want to try sometime this week? Or even further down the line?" He pauses before adding. "Before you answer, know that any of your answers are acceptable, lovebug. I'm willing to work with you. I know it's hard for you."

My eyes get glassy. How is he so wonderful? I have to push forward again to hug him tight, sniffling as I'm overwhelmed with affection that over three years ago I thought didn't exist - or if it did, I thought I'd never get to have it.

"I want..." I take a deep breath and gauge the swirling emotions in my gut. "I want to try...tonight...and throughout the week?" I pause again. "I don't want...to let Kigai influence how I react to you because I know you're not him." I squeeze him in my arms and am rewarded with a squeeze back. "But I don't know...how...to try it. I don't know what I'll be comfortable with or if I'll freak out. And that scares me."

"Hmm," He hugs me for a moment as he thinks. "Why don't we start with baby steps, lovebug? Would you like to try a shower together? That way you can just get used to me in your general vicinity without making any moves on you? Or do you need a smaller step than that?"

I think it over. That should be fine to start...knowing if I can handle him naked in my proximity...that would be good to know to begin with. And if you can't, just tell him that. He'll slow down for you. He's already made that pretty clear. Right...right. "I think we can try that." I agree, before pulling back and fidgeting with my pajama sleeves.

"Alright, well...how do you want to start this, then?" He asks, before he leans over to start the shower. "I guess to start with I'll let you choose the water temperature."

"Thanks." I focus heavily on my breathing for the next few moments, reaching in and adjusting the nozzles until I'm ready to turn on the shower. When that's done, I take a deep breath. "Okay...okay." Ms. Sheila said a good tip was to relax and start with what I'm comfortable with. "Can I have a kiss?"

Hizashi finally breaks into a smile and leans down to close the distance and set his hands on my hips to pull me closer. I'm used to this by now, it feels safe and familiar. I tug at his lip and run my hands along his chest over his shirt. As I feel more comfortable, I tentatively move my fingers under his shirt to do the same thing, just against his skin.

We're okay. We've done some of this before. I'm safe. This is Zashi. I move my fingers up his chest and around his neck. helping him wiggle out of his shirt. When I pull back for air, I'm rewarded with a delectably handsome sight that fills me full of longing...and fear.

I have to remember to breathe as I drink him in. Even though it's just his top half, I can already feel my tummy flipping and warmth make my body tingle. My fingers tremble when I rub my fingers over his abs.

"Are you okay?" He asks me through heavy breaths. "Do you need a minute or can I take off the rest?"

I squeak and hide behind my hands for a moment. It's okay. He's okay. He's safe. Breathe.

"Y-Yeah. If...if I need you to stop, I'll tell you." I promise.

I'm both fully and not at all prepared for when he pulls down the rest of his clothes. My breath gets shaky, but not for reasons I thought it'd be. My body is flooded with desire and eagerness. A soft sound escapes me when his cock starts to harden. Glory, glory what a hell of a way to die, indeed. I want it. You're mine, slut. Shut your fucking mouth, fiend. I tense involuntarily for a moment.

Hizashi clears his throat and asks, "Do you want me to watch you undress too? Or would you rather I hop in the shower first and wait for you?"

"Can, um," I hold my shoulder shyly and flush darkly. "Can you hop in first?"

He kisses my cheek. "Of course." And then he takes off his glasses and disappears behind the curtain.

It takes me a few moments to re-coordinate my mind and breathe, but when I do, I feel comfortable enough to strip down and ready myself. It's going to be fine. It's going to be okay. He won't hurt you, Cub. He's safe. And then I step into the shower.

As promised, Hizashi keeps his distance. He doesn't even look at me for a while as he just lets the water run over him. When he finally does catch my eyes, I don't miss how his eyes widen. He makes a little grunt and his cock twitches again, but to his credit he restrains himself.

"Didn't know it was possible for you to look even more gorgeous without clothes, but here we are." He teases with a wink, before going back to getting cleaned off.

His comment simultaneously fuels my lust and allays my fears. He...he didn't just grab me and have his way. He's being very careful and sweet and...god, it's hot. I manage to make it through the entirety of the shower without feeling too uncomfortable or having a panic attack. The closest I get to panic is when he asks about a scar on my back where Kigai threw a book at me. Somehow, though, I manage to get through an explanation without crying.

When we hop out and dry off, my emotions begin growing more intense. There's a wet place between my legs that I simply can't dry off. We get dry and I stand up on my toes to pull him into a fiery kiss that draws a moan from deep inside. God, that feels better than I ever expected.

His response is eager but hesitant. He doesn't fully touch me until I guide his hands to my bare hips. His arousal presses against my belly in a mutual desire as I move my arms back around his neck and grip him tight. All of the hot and heavy needs rolling around my body have me seeing stars. I pull back with heavy pants and press my forehead against his to look at him hungrily.

"W-Why don't...we move this to the bed?" My neck heats up as I ask.

"Are you sure?" Worry flickers in his eyes.

"I'm sure. I'll tell you if I'm not."

"Then, may I carry you?" He asks first, hands hovering until I nod. Only then does he pick me up with a flourish and carry me over to the bed. He gently lays me across the pillows. "How do you want me?"

Not Kigai. Not Kigai. Not Kigai. I remind myself as he looks down at me so softly. I rub his arms and pull at him to urge him further down. Okay. It's fine. This feels good. He feels warm. "Kiss me more?" I request.

"Happily." He obliges, tasting like spearmint gum and wedding cake.

We make out like this for at least five minutes, though it feels like an eternity of blissful intimacy. I can feel Hizashi get harder the longer we go, and I could swear I've accumulated a little puddle between my thighs by now. So I brave the waters and skim my fingers along his sides, up his arms, and guide him to squeeze a breast.

The jolt of excitement I feel draws a moan from me. The surprise I feel is so palpable my eyes flash open and I grip his hair to pull him closer. I like that. I'm not scared of him. I want more. This is nothing like it was with Kigai. Good job, Little One. But be mindful; don't let your guard down. I heed the tiger's voice. As much as I want to go feral and pick up the pace, I want to be cautious. I've learned through therapy and non-sexual experiences that even when it starts out easy, sometimes my trauma hits me out of nowhere.

Thankfully, Hizashi's gentle hands help keep me in a right frame of mind. He squeezes my breasts again before pulling back for a moment, rubbing his thumb slowly over my nipples.

"Is this okay, lovebug?"

"Yes." I purr, arching up into his hands eagerly. "I like that a lot."

"Tell me if it becomes too much." He reminds me, before he kisses the little valley between both breasts. "Is that okay?"

"Mhmm..." I massage the hand massaging me. "You can use your mouth, I think. It should be okay."

Even though I assure him, he still moves slowly as he puts his tongue to work. He starts on the least sensitive spot on the soft flesh outside of my boob and slowly works back in to my nipple, asking before he moves in each time. Once he seems to think I've been properly doted upon up there, he pulls back with that familiar worried glaze in his eyes.

"You think you'll be okay if I work my way down? I don't want to rush you."

I gauge my emotions and arousal. My heart's haywire, but not from fear. I'm pretty sure I'll orgasm if he plays his cards right (something Kigai never managed despite touting his conquest of me anytime he could).

"I think it'll be okay. But can you keep moving slowly?" I plead, looking up at him with all the fondness and vulnerability I can muster.

"Of course. I never want to hurt you." He kisses me sweetly, moves up to press another kiss on my forehead, and then moves his hand to rub over my belly while he move his head down so our tongues can dance again.

Soon, his fingers find their mark.

"Fuck, you're soaked." His cock twitches against my thigh as I flush and hide my face behind my hands. His soothing voice lilts into my ear to comfort me. "Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm glad I make you feel so good. Can I move my fingers?"

"Mhmm..." Even though I don't really say words, my voice still quivers. Not Kigai! I take a few deep breaths to drive my orgasm away so I can talk better."Just...start with my clit a little bit. Don't go straight in yet. I-I need a little more work-up so it'll feel better."

"You got it, lovebug."

His fingers play me like an instrument. And I've learned by now just how good he is at playing any instrument he gets his hands on. He plucks and presses my buttons experimentally until I'm singing out his composition. His finger rings around my clit as he bites my neck. The flurry of pleasure rushing down between my legs surprises me. I didn't think I'd like biting, but color me hot and bothered!

"Zashi!" I yelp out as my back comes off the bed. Endorphins rush through my body as I nearly cum right then. "A-Almost. So close." I pant, trembling under his hands.

"Good, lovebug. Do you want me to rub your clit some more or cum on my fingers?"

I squeak in embarrassment and I give him a half-lidded smile. "I want to feel your fingers...to see if it's going to be okay."

"I'll go slowly. Tell me if you're uncomfortable at any point." He coos, before a finger caresses my entrance. We watch each other as my orgasm builds and he seeks to please me without hurting me.

"I'm going to two now..." He breathes, eyes dilated and hungry as he pushes in another digit and I moan.

My fingers grip his hair and the sheets. So close. Almost there. Please. He keeps the pace slow until I beg him to move a little faster, unable to wait any longer. Almost as soon as he picks up the pace, I'm driven over the edge.

Only right before I cry out his name, I stop. If Kigai knows I'm feeling this good...he'll get jealous. Instinctively, I find my head lulling back as I stare blankly at the ceiling even as sweet bliss floods my senses. You know how good I made you feel, little whore? And you're giving HIM your orgasm?! STOP! You only brought my cub sorrow, bastard. At least Hizashi knows how to please her before himself, you selfish fuckboy.

"Ichan?" Hizashi notices the change instantly and pulls back completely. He turns on his side and covers his bottom half under the covers as he looks at me. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Was that too much? I should have–" But he never finishes.

A sob bursts out of my chest. I cover my face with my hands as the aftershocks of my orgasm bleed into the discordant notes of trauma wracking my body. I want to focus on the pleasure but only pain drips down my cheeks.

"He never made me orgasm." I blubber out, whimpers trickling out of my throat. "I-It felt...like I was going to get in trouble because that was the first time...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I'm sorry."

"Hey, shh..." He rubs my shoulder and kisses my cheek. "I'm here. No one's going to hurt you. You're allowed to feel good, lovebug. I'm glad I could make you feel good."

I sniffle as I turn over each of his words, breathing through each of them.

"You're not upset...that you didn't orgasm first...?" I ask fearfully.

"Ichan, if I had my way, I'd make you orgasm until my name was the only thing you could say. It's my pleasure to make you feel good. If I orgasm, that's an icing on the cake, but your happiness will always come first for me." He places his hand at my cheek as he looks at me in earnest.

In a tentative attempt at shouldering past the trauma Kigai left and recapturing the mood, I wrap my arms around his neck and tug at his lip with my teeth.

"Thank you." The sentiment hangs in the air like a comforting shroud for a few moments as we just hold each other. I stare up into the tender yellow of his eyes until I think I'm ready to continue. "I'm ready to try more...if you are?"

"I'm ready only if you're sure you're okay." He kisses my forehead again and combs his fingers through my hair. "How do you want me?"

Kigai's voice still tickles my ears as I think about my next request, but I grit my teeth, take a deep breath, and surge forward. You're mine, whore. You don't get to tell me that I'm yours anymore. Because I'm not! "Can...can you kiss me a little more and then...maybe try...going inside?"

It's a big step. I know it's a big step. But my stubborn determination and Shouta's reassurance ringing in my head that Hizashi will stop anytime I ask him makes the decision. Besides, I've always been driven by my emotions. And right now I'm high on feel-good hormones.

"Are you sure, lovebug? I can move slower if you need me to." Even as he says it, I can tell from his expression that he's eager. And who could blame him? I feel the same.

"I'm sure. I'll tell you if it's too much." I promise.

He doesn't go in right away, even after I reassure him. He's good to me and smatters kisses all over every inch of skin he finds while his fingers work me up again. I close my eyes and allow myself to feel good for once. This...this is what intimacy is supposed to feel like.

"I'm going to move in, lovebug." His voice is strained and I feel his hand on my cheek.

I open my eyes and give him a flushed grin. "Okay, Zashi. I'm okay."

As he moves in, I go from okay to good to great to exquisite. It takes some time - he's still very hesitant - but by the time he's fully buried himself inside me, my thoughts are a mixture of electricity and heady clouds. I start realizing why people call it cloud nine.

"Shit..." He breathes in my ear, sending a pleasant tremor straight down my shoulders and spine. He tries to move away from me but I hold him closer. "You okay?"

"Can you...talk in my ear some more...?" I squeak out, my hips already moving to try and get some friction. We've learned auditory cues are a big trigger for me. I wonder if having some positive auditory cues will help me relax? It's worth a shot. But be on your guard.

I can hear him smirk before he chuckles and gets in close again.

"Like this?" He purrs softly, sending my eyes rolling in my head. "Do you want me to tell you how much I love you? How sweet and loveable you are? How gorgeous?" With each word, he washes away my inhibitions and I feel my muscles relaxing. "I'm going to move now, lovebug. You still okay?"

"Yes." I groan, craning my neck over to indulge in a hot kiss.

I pull back and start trailing my fingers around the shells of his ears resulting in a response that makes me feel good inside. I feel his hips spasm and the high-pitched whine he unleashes in my ear has my body shuddering against him.

"So good...touch me more." His pace grows, and so does my need. "Make me feel good with those delicate fingers. Let me make you feel good, too."

"Zashiiiii..." I whine, moving up to lick his ear to see if that makes him feel good too. I'm not disappointed with the sounds he makes. "You feel good...it doesn't hurt...I love you so much." I whimper as he moves faster and harder.

When we're both at our limit and our orgasm begins to clash together in perfect harmony, Kigai's voice tries to interrupt again. No! You're not in control of me anymore. She's not your puppet!

So when we finally break together? Hizashi's name is the only one in my mind and on my lips.

[aerodaltonimperial]

Okay, prompts. [Cracks knuckles]

1) Hook walking out for a match absolutely COVERED in hickeys and black lipstick.

2) baby Hook meets indie Danhausen

3) Hook breaks his "suspension" to come to Danhausen's aid OR Danhausen whoops The Firm's ass for getting Hook "suspended"

4) sleeping beauty AU esque situation; who knew Hook COULD be cursed???

5) Hook secretly has a huge sweet tooth, but chocolate chip cookies clash with his gimmick, so he can only watch longingly as Danhausen is gifted homemade sweets by various colleagues

Okay, Jack is panicking. He's good and panicking, because they are set to go out for their second tag match in less than five minutes and his tag partner isn't here.

Okay. Everything is fine. Everything is fine.

He can do this on his own....somehow. It will all work out, right? Maybe he'll die, but at least he'll go down with dignity. Or something like that. Yeah, that's the panic talking. He wrings his hands in front of his body, wishing he had never risen to this challenge. Wishing he'd never agreed to tag again. Wishing—

"Sorry," Hook says, out of breath as he sprints up to where Jack is standing behind the tunnels, the ones that are half-hidden now, tucked behind the screens.

Jack is about to yell at him, but he stops. Stares. And Hook notices the intensity of the look, rubs a hand along the back of his neck as though the scrutiny embarrasses him. "What?" he asks.

"Uh," Jack says, because how...does one phrase this correctly? At a loss, he raises one finger and just sort of gestures at Hook’s neck. And collarbone. And shoulders. And he is so absolutely not gesturing any lower than that, despite the fact that the smudges of black most definitely continue beneath the waistband of his shorts.

Hook's face blanches. His chin cranes down, looking at the evidence that is, quite frankly, strewn across his skin, a constellation of black paint in long drags. "Fuck," he hisses, rubbing at one of the marks smeared across his chest, as though it traced the border of his pectoral muscle.

"You, uh, need like a towel or something?" Jack asks. He's trying really hard not to laugh, which he thinks he should get credit for, because...come on. Hook is covered.

"Jesus Christ," Hook mumbles, and holy shit, his face is bright red. Jack had never seen anything like it. He's frantically rubbing at all the marks he can see, but he obviously can't see the ones that have been pulled up along his jaw, as though someone drug their mouth straight up to catch his earlobe.

"So I take it you guys got back together," Jack says. He takes pity on the man; Hook looks a half second away from bolting and never, ever coming back. "That tweet really worked, did it?"

"Please don't," Hook pleads. Jack grabs a towel from the stacked bleachers nearby and starts trying to get one of the marks on Hook’s neck off. His ears are positively crimson.

Jack bites back a laugh. "Look, dude, I'm not judging, but, y'know, people are gonna figure this out. Not many people wear black lipstick here."

"I...I don't..." Hook's at a loss for words, doing bid best to smudge off the black heading down, down, down. Ha. Jack's gonna use this against him for years. Hook looks up, helpless, eyes wide. "Please."

"Yeah, I'm trying," Jack says. "But after this, you owe me, you know? You owe me so much."

"I'll do anything," Hook mumbles. His cheeks could rival a traffic light, they're so flushed. "Just please don't tell anyone."

"I won't." Jack pauses, gets one of the marks beneath Hook’s chin off and wipes his fingers on the towel. "Things seem good."

When Hook stares at him, a deer in the headlights, Jack grins. "Good, right?"

"Yeah," Hook mumbles, ducking his head down like he can hide. "Things are good."

"Happy for you, dude. Mostly cause I was afraid for awhile there I was gonna get killed or something."

Hook might huff out half a laugh, or kind of a sob; Jack can't tell. He just smiles, continuing to wipe what he can free, with warmth blossoming through his chest, because, hey. It's rare that people like them get happy endings, right? Nice to see it finally working out.

"Hey," Jack says. They've got most of the evidence off now; small favors.

Hook raises his gaze again, questioning. And Jack shrugs. "Thanks for being my friend anyway."

Something in Hook’s face softens, ever so slightly. Not for the first time, Jack thinks Hook was just as desperate for a friend as he was, lonely in a way the word can never wholly describe.

"Yeah," Hook says, the corners of his mouth curving up a little. "You, too."

"Let's go kick some ass?" Jack offers.

"Yeah," Hook agrees, with more strength. "Let's go."

[werewolfnightwalker]

Lovechild drabble

Keigo jumped first, to show him how it's done. He threw himself off the edge of the balcony and into the sunset sky with a whoop and peal of laughter. He didn't fall far, before his wings caught him and he was sent soaring far overhead.

"Come on, baby bird, you can do it!" He called, twisting to look back down at his son and husband, still on the balcony.

Dabi looked down at Tenshi, who was clinging to his Da's leg nervously. "Ready?" Dabi asked him.

Tenshi just nodded curtly, his eyes huge and afraid. Ever the brave kid, though, he took a big, deep breath and stepped forward. Dabi lifted the six-year old under his arms, helping him balance on the balustrade. Tenshi's golden wings shimmered in the light of the sinking sun as he peered down at the street, hundreds of feet below. Dabi kept a grip on the boy's hips, letting him take his time.

"Come on, eyas!" Keigo called again, reaching for his chick with a big, encouraging smile. Dabi felt Tenshi begin to tremble, before he sniffled.

"I can't!" He wailed suddenly, and Dabi instantly pulled him back down to the safety of the balcony floor. Tenshi just started bawling, his knees almost giving out.

Alarmed, Dabi knelt, and Tenshi threw his arms around his Da's neck. "What's wrong, Ten? I thought you wanted to try flying today." He murmured worriedly, wrapping his arms around the boy tightly.

Tenshi hiccuped, little talons digging into Dabi's back. "I c- can't- I'm too sc- scared-!" He sobbed.

"Scared of what?" Dabi asked, glancing over at Keigo, who swooped back to the balcony and landed on the railing, his wings bushed out worriedly for his chick.

"Wh- what if my wings don't work? What if I f- fall?" Tenshi whimpered, pulling back to look up at Dabi. It broke Dabi's fucking heart to see the huge tears welled in Tenshi's eyes, his face red and nose runny.

"You won't fall, baby bird." Dabi sighed. "Remember what the doctor said at your last checkup? Your wings are perfectly fine. You can do this, you just gotta jump."

"But I could die!" Tenshi wailed, little fists rubbing away more tears.

"You're not going to die." Dabi took his hands, "Look at me, baby bird." He waited until Tenshi was blinking up at him, his lower lip quivering. "Do you think papa and I would do this of we thought you'd get hurt?"

"N... No..." Tenshi whined.

"Exactly. Do you think we'd let you jump off a building if we weren't sure you'd be safe?" Tenshi sniffled, shaking his head. Dabi smiled, gently cupping the boy's face and wiping his tears away with his thumbs. "Look at papa, baby bird." He directed, jerking his head towards Keigo, "He's the fastest hero there is. If your wings don't work, then he'll catch you. If I jumped off this balcony right now, he'd catch me."

Keigo chirped. "Well... You did forget to do the dishes this morning." That made Tenshi giggle.

"Please don't let Da hit the ground, Papa." He sniffed.

"I won't, baby bird." Keigo immediately cooed, side-eyeing his pyromaniac husband.

"I'll do them later." Dabi muttered, rolling his eyes. He focused on Tenshi again, "Listen, Ten. You wanna be a hero like Papa, right?" Tenshi looked up and nodded. "Then you've gotta fly like Papa. If you don't want to try it today, that's okay." He laid his hands on Tenshi's shoulders, "But don't think for a second that you can't do it. You can do anything you want to, you can be the greatest hero there is. I promise."

Keigo was looking at him; he knew where those words were coming from, but Dabi ignored him, staring intently into Tenshi's silver eyes. "Do you want to try again?" He asked, the intensity in his voice relaxing.

Slowly, Tenshi began to nod. Keigo took flight once more as Dabi lifted their son back onto the railing, holding tight to the back of his shirt. Keigo hovered mere feet away, wringing his hands with excitement and anticipation. Dabi just watched Tenshi, the boy staring at the sunset for a long moment.

"You want a push?" Dabi asked eventually. Tenshi's voice was steady when he answered.

"No, thank you. Baby birds jump." Before Dabi could reply, Tenshi gasped in a breath and flung himself forward.

He'd be a liar if Dabi said his stomach didn't drop with Tenshi, and he lurched over the railing to watch. Tenshi didn't make a sound as he fell, not a shriek or a peep. Nor did he fall very far, before Keigo was right beside him, almost in free fall with him. Dabi heard him shout something, before a pair of ruby and a pair of golden wings opened. He couldn't contain his own exhilarated cry as both his birds soared back upwards, Tenshi clinging to Keigo's hand like a lifeline.

Keigo trilled gleefully as Tenshi managed to straighten himself out, trying to flap his wings the same way Keigo did. Tenshi's echoing cry was more high pitched and warbly than his as he and Keigo zipped through the air, back and forth for several minutes, before they were coming in for a landing.

Dabi stepped back to give them room, but Tenshi dropped himself right into his arms, chirping a mile a minute and practically vibrating. "I did it! I did it! Did you see me, Da?! I flew! I flew like Papa, did you see?!" He babbled, his wings still fluttering. Dabi laughed, letting Tenshi bonk his forehead against his own.

"I saw. You did great, Ten."

"Not bad for a first flight, huh?" Keigo grinned as he sat on the balcony railing, "How about we go have ice cream to celebrate?"

Tenshi's smile, somehow, got bigger. "Yes! Yes yes yes!" Dabi just nodded, rolling his eyes in amusement.

"You're not getting ice cream." Keigo stuck his tongue out at him, "Not until you do the dishes."

[reneesbooks]

lacuna snippet: the thief

pspsppss jack lovers, come get y'all juice @oh-no-another-idea @lyssa-ink @serenanymph

The man is sweating, wringing his hands and glancing over his shoulder every other second. Keelan opens the door wider. “What the hell do you want?”

“Sir Keelan,” the man says in a furtive whisper. “I have information on the thief you have been hunting.”

Keelan eyes him. He is a pudgy man in his late forties, soft hands, receding hairline. Likely a merchant, or a scammer. Not a man who works hard for a living. “What do you know of the thief?”

“His name is Jack,” the man says. “He lives next door to me with his partner and has a round scar on his neck.”

Keelan narrows his eyes. “Come inside.”

The man scurries in and stands just inside the door, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and back again. He almost looks like he has to piss.

“What's your name?” Keelan asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

The man pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket and wipes his forehead. “You'll forgive me if I'm afraid to tell you. Jack knows who I am and after what he did to the guards at the outpost...no, I would much rather not.”

“O'Leyne,” Vonnie's voice calls from the other room, and Keelan shuts his eyes with a barely-repressed groan. “Did I hear somebody at the back door? Don't tell me you got that blonde from the brothel down the street in there, I'll—” She appears in the doorway, her eyes narrowing at the sweaty man. “He doesn't seem like your type.”

“Vonnie,” Keelan says through gritted teeth. “This man was just telling me about the thief.”

Vonnie squints at him. “Frederick, you shithead. You know the thief?”

The man's face goes white. “Who-who's Frederick?” He laughs nervously. “I don't know who that is.”

“Gods,” Vonnie says, pinching her nose. “Keelan, this lowlife is one of the scammers that likes to con travelers in the port by pretending to be a wealthy merchant. I don't care to remember all the details, Freddy, so I won't go through your whole long list of minor offenses, but I don't know if I feel like listening to your 'information' either.”

“No!” Frederick yelps. His eyes dart to the window and then back to Keelan. “Please. I'm afraid.”

Vonnie leans against her desk. “This should be good.”

“The thief you are looking for is named Jack,” Frederick says. “He is dangerous and ruthless and I will tell you where to find him if you promise to protect me.”

“We could just arrest you,” Vonnie points out. “I know where you live.”

“You do?” he squeaks.

“Vonnie,” Keelan sighs.

“Fine!” She throws up her hands. “Damn bounty.”

“Jack has a partner, that's why he went to the outpost,” Frederick says, again wiping his forehead with the handkerchief. “Arthur. He went ballistic when he found out that he'd been arrested; I heard him screaming and throwing things through the wall that we share. The gutter girl on Amber Road told him where they'd taken Arthur and he left. The next thing I heard about was the massacre. I didn't think he'd ever kill anybody, but—”

“That's enough,” Keelan says, holding up his hand. Frederick's jaw snaps shut and he glances out the window again, as if expecting to see the thief pressed up against the glass with a knife. “Amber Road. That's in the lakeside district. Vonnie?”

She already has the map of the city on the table. “Runs south towards the edge of the city. Frederick here lives in number 17, so the thief is either in 19 or 15.”

“19 Amber Road,” Frederick says, flinching and looking around again. “That's their flat. He has an understanding with the landlord.”

“What kind of understanding?” Vonnie asks.

Frederick just shrugs. Keelan marks the address on the map, no longer listening as Vonnie quizzes Frederick on the rest of the occupants of Amber Road. The thief, Jack—he's finally within reach. He got sloppy, and now he'll get caught.

“Got you,” Keelan whispers to the map.

[drrutherford]

"Capsule ward—" He cuts off with a scoff and a shake of his head. Why does everyone insist on acting like he can't tell the difference between a cravat and an ascot tie?...

He's never committed the faux pas of coming underdressed to an event like this one. if not to spare himself the public flogging, then certainly to avoid the wrath of his much more fashion-forward siblings. Because apparently, there's no greater crime among the rich than not to display one's ridiculous wealth at every possible turn. 

Gideon takes a step away from her and stalks towards the sink.

"I like to be comfortable in my day-to-day, Miss Hathaway, sue me." Except he can't afford a ridiculous lawsuit right now and they both know it. So really, she should let it go — along with that unfortunate photograph of him that Diana had plucked out of her private collection in hell. It's true what they say about old love, he rolls his eyes as he thinks about his ex, the blackmail is lifelong. "I'd make a very dull celebrity, and I'm afraid I've no interest in being a socialite, either... No offense, of course."

... That's debatable.

She's accosted him in about the most private place a man can seek to be alone, just to deliver a few mind-boggling backhanded compliments. Too late for oversteps.

Cecelia twirls about as if she's on a safari tour of the Secret World of Urinals, while Gideon watches her from the mirror. "Yes, we have soap. Exciting development, that one." He turns the faucet on, just for something to do. Really, he needs to take a shit. "Is Adam aware of your breathtakingly high opinion of the male sex?"

Maybe he's a little aggressive with the soap, because out of the blue she asks if he's feeling delicate. Delicate?... The only thing delicate about tonight is Cece's graceful neck and his sudden desire to wring it like a church bell.

"Have you overindulged, Ms. Hathaway?" He asks abruptly, turning to her.

"... You look a little flushed." She doesn't, not really, but he'd rather ingest a plate of rusty cufflinks than discuss Adriana or any of his other delicate concerns with her tonight. Cecelia Hathaway already knows more about his private affairs than he's wanted her to, he'll be damned if he gives her more canon-fodder for her cause.

What was she talking about? "You," Silly. She had an overwhelming urge to grab him by the shoulders and give him a good shake. He could be so utterly clueless at times. She was almost convinced that she could send him a cashmere sweater, and he still wouldn't grasp how much his potential had SOARED. "I mean look at you..." She certainly was. "But really, who managed to coax you out of your typical capsule wardrobe tonight?" Whoever it was she needed to send them a gift basket. One with lot's of little muffins and tomato relishes.

"The awards? Oh, that's right, you're practically a celebrity now… a bona fide socialite," she remarked with a playful grin. "I did notice you scooping up quite a few… How does it feel to be Mr. Rutherford, MD, and MY…" she paused, "Man of the Year? Nice mustache, by the way. Did you gather it bit by bit from all those chest hairs and transplant it onto your upper lip?" She chuckled. This was quite enjoyable.

Ah, yes... the men's room.

Cece seized the opportunity to peek into the clandestine realm. "So this is where you gentlemen sneak off to… Is it true it only takes you a few seconds?" Men were indeed mysterious creatures. "Oh, they provide you with soaps in here too." She turned away from the urinals, her gaze meeting his once more after she'd finished her little trip around Casa Le Mens.

She was getting distracted though. She had come here with the intention to compliment, but now she sensed something amiss. "Are you alright? You seem a bit delicate tonight."

[calmcoldevening]

Chris Walker SFW Alphabet

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Chris is very affectionate. He is so happy that you are in his life, so he will appreciate every moment spent with you together. He's so lucky to have you. Sometimes Chris wakes up in the middle of the night and is afraid that it was all a dream, but when he sees you sleeping peacefully on the other side of the bed, he feels better. Sometimes, when he needs your attention, but you are working, he can come to your bedroom and sit on the bed. Chris will wring his hands until you notice him. He wants your love so much, but he doesn't want to distract you from business. If you turn around and come over and hug him, Chris will cuddle up to you like a kitten. God, thank you for such an unimaginably wonderful gift like you!

B = Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Chris would be a great best friend. Although, probably, he is for you anyway. Best friend and lover, wonderful! Chris can always listen to you carefully, even if he does not respond to your statement, he will pull you onto his lap and hold you for a long time until you calm down. Keeps secrets very well. Know that if you told Chris something, it will remain in his head until his death. A promise on pinky fingers? The best friend who can listen and help if you want to drink and have fun.

C = Crying (How does he react to crying?)

If Chris sees you crying, he'll start circling over you like a worried mom over a screaming baby. He will hold you to him and gently stroke your hair. Has someone offended you? You can trust him, he will listen! After your story, he will pick you up in his arms and carry you to the kitchen. Warm tea and your favorite chocolate bar, which he always has hidden in a drawer above the table, will definitely help. Chris will hold you on his lap and rock you while you eat. He will gently wipe the remaining tears from your red cheeks, and then leave a light kiss. "I'm here, little pig. You're in safe..."

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Chris is a very caring man. If you feel bad or sad, he will certainly try to fix it. He can go to the store, do some work and stay with you all day if he has a day off today. What about a spa day, honey? Chris is a great cook. That's what it means, hands from the right place. The best pies in the whole world! He loves them and knows how to cook masterfully. What kind of fruit do you want?

E = Ending (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

There's no way he'd want to do that. You are his whole world, his light in this vile gloomy life, where everyone is alien to him and laughs at him. But if it was for your safety (for example, so that the Murkoff company would not use you), he would do it abruptly, trying not to show emotions. He will tell about the breakup and leave the house. Chris will literally die of grief and loss. He loves you so much, he didn't want to lose you! But even more, he wants you to be safe. You will find another person, much better, you will have beautiful children, you will be a happy wife... Chris will cry hard and scream into the pillow. He didn't want it to end like this... Just not now... God, he would kill himself not to feel this terrible pain in his chest. Chris misses you so much.

"Y/N..." he whispers painfully, clutching your photo in his hands, which he always carried in his wallet before. "I love you... I want to come to you... Please..."

F = Fiancé(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Chris would be very, very happy to be your husband. You are such a beautiful wife, your two wonderful children and a little black cat. Chris is coming home. It smells like a wonderful dinner. You go out to meet him and wrap your arms around his neck. He picks you up in his arms and carries you into the bedroom, kissing you on the lips. He's yours. You're his. You swore before God that you would be together. God, he will be the most attentive and gentle husband!

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Chris is so damn gentle. His every touch is careful. To him, you look like a fragile crystal figure, so beautiful, but so defenseless. One wrong action and you will collapse. Chris basically has the language of love — touch, so they will be filled with his care and affection.

H = Hugs (do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Very fond of hugging. If there was such an opportunity, Chris would want you to sit in his arms all day long while he gently pats you on the back. Nothing matters except the feeling of your body's warmth. His hugs are like the hugs of a big teddy bear. They are strong and strong. Chris can unknowingly hold you tightly to him until he knocks all the air out of your lungs. You'll be writhing from lack of oxygen. He will push you away from him and apologize. Then he will hug you again, but more gently. Definitely a big spoon.

I = I love you (how fast do they say the L-word?)

He would be ready to say this after a couple of months of your communication. But he's too shy. And afraid of being rejected. You know... You're so wonderful, and he's not sure if you like him, maybe you like someone much better than him?

You were walking in the park. The weather was surprisingly good. The autumn wind caressed your faces, the sun flashed beautifully on your face, illuminating it, as if you were some unearthly angel. Although, it probably was. You walked slowly along the curb, shuffling your feet and throwing off orange leaves. Chris was walking beside you, watching you so you wouldn't fall. You had ice cream in your hands.

You laugh like a child, rocking on the curb, Chris grabs your hand, twining your fingers.

"Be careful," he says excitedly, supporting you.

"Okay," you smile and keep walking, squeezing the man's palm harder. He blushes a little from your action. It's probably a common thing for you, but he wants to believe that you behave so cheerfully and openly only with him. He loves watching you so much, the beautiful princess in his life.

When you get down to the ground, you look at Chris with satisfaction. God, his face is smeared with ice cream crumbs. It's so cute. You pull your palm up to his face and gently run your fingers over his cheek, removing the crumbs. He shudders.

"Y/N" he whispers, and you look at him questioningly. Chris puts his hand on top of yours. "I...I love... you" he looks down shyly "I didn't know when to tell you this... Suddenly you decide to stop communicating with me, and I wouldn't want that, I-" You interrupt him, standing on tiptoe and gently kissing him on the lips. Chris flinches, but obediently opens his mouth for you, closing his eyes. A kiss with the taste of strawberry ice cream.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Jealous. Very. But he won't tell you that. Chris saw you with another man, and you were laughing so carelessly. You...are so happy. He will smile sadly. Maybe he's not good enough, so now you're enjoying yourself with another person. But when you notice him and wave to him, he'll blush a little. Come and hug him, you can even kiss him. God, you really love him! (he tends to doubt others a little, since he is not even sure of his own feelings :( )

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His kisses are like a light touch of delicate butterflies. He is very necessary and careful. Chris seems to be talking to you through these very kisses, so each of them can mean something: a kiss on the lips - "I love you. I cherish you", kisses on the forehead — "Be careful", a kiss on the nose — "You're so cute". Chris, of course, could say it in words, and sometimes he does, but such "secret" messages give him more pleasure, because you understand him so well, you complement each other. You are made for each other!

I think he likes to kiss your whole body in principle, especially the parts of you that you don't like or are embarrassed by them. But if you select a certain place, then it will probably be the forehead.

He likes it when you kiss his neck. Chris literally starts to choke on this, and a pleasant sensation descends from his neck to his groin.

L = Little ones (how are they around children?)

Chris likes children just as much as animals. They are pure and innocent, not yet tainted by this vile world. Especially since these children are from you. He would be happy to be a father to your children. Your children. Chris would be a wonderful parent. Attentive, caring, understanding. You could have no problem leaving the baby with Chris. He could give the kid his piggy toy. The best father in the world, definitely.

M = Morning (how are mornings spent with them?)

It depends on whether he is working today or not. If Chris is working, then he will carefully get out of bed, before gently kissing you on the forehead, and after that he will just stand for a few minutes and admire your sleeping being. No matter how big he is, he goes to work quietly enough, so you don't have time to wake up. But when you go out to the kitchen, your favorite sweet and some nice note will already be on the table.

Chris opened his eyes sleepily. Fumbling with his hand on the second half of the bed, he did not find you. But the slight hint of fear immediately evaporated when he heard the sound of water in the bathroom. Warm yellow light streamed from behind the closed door. The man smiled. He slowly got up from the bed, walking as quietly as possible to the bathroom. You were standing at the sink and washing your face. I'm surprised you haven't looked in the mirror. Chris crept up behind you, placing his hands on your waist and kissing you behind the ear.

He loves these moments. Just standing there and hugging you, forgetting about time, people, and everything in the world. Just you and him. His dearest treasure.

"Good morning, little pig," he whispers, smiling when you touch his cheek with your palm.

N = Night (how are nights spent with them?)

In general, your night passes quite calmly, except for the days when Chris is tossing on the pillow because of nightmares. He is still haunted by dreams of war. PTSD makes itself felt. At some point, closer to two or three o'clock in the morning, he may jump up abruptly, trying to catch his breath. He has frantic breathing, a rapid heartbeat and a buzz in his head. Chris sobs painfully, covering his face with his hands. You will reluctantly wake up, rubbing your eyes, but immediately sit down next to him, noticing that something is wrong with Chris. Crying like a lost child. Now it is not necessary to frighten him with sudden movements. Gently touch his shoulders or back, gently rubbing. He'll flinch. Realizing that you are your presence, so soft and soothing, he will slowly pull you to him hugging. It was just a dream. Nightmare. You're close. You won't leave him, right? You love him. He will press his face against the curve of your neck, inhaling your pleasant smell. It's easier for him now.

O = Open  (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say  everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

It will be gradual. At the beginning of your relationship, he will still feel extremely insecure. He loves you so much, and you're so adorable, maybe it's all just a prank? But in a couple of weeks you will be able to learn a lot more about him. His hobbies, what he likes, his fears. He trusts you. Even if it's all an evil prank, Chris likes to feel needed and loved next to you. He values you.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He has quite inhuman patience, ph (hey, he literally endures that terrible nickname and name-calling for many years). His patience will quickly burst like a stretched thread, only in two cases: someone has spoiled his little pig (we know how this can end) or someone will touch his goddess, that is, you. Then he will kill everyone to hell and even the holes in his cheeks will not stop him.

Q = Quizzes  (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little  detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Oh, he remembers everything! What is your favorite color? Sure. Is it your mom's birthday? Pf, yes. The foods you're allergic to or that nasty girl from work that you can't stand? He is ready to discuss with you how tactless and narcissistic she is. Even fleetingly said things that you can mention in your conversation will stick in his head for a long time (so don't hesitate to speak in hints, xd).

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

This is probably the first time he's cried. He thought you'd insult him or something, after all, he's trying to be strong in your eyes, don't doubt that he'll be able to protect you!.. But you didn't laugh, you hugged and listened to him cry... You're so wonderful. At that moment, he made sure that you love him no matter what. He likes your loving hugs so much.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Chris will protect you. At home, he is always next to you, if he is at work, then every few hours he will write restless messages and ask how you are doing and how you feel. Chris himself, as such, does not need protection, he is strong enough to stand up for himself on his own. He just needs your kisses and hugs. But if someone dares to hurt you, he will destroy that person.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Oh, he'll try very hard. He thinks over all the holidays for weeks, buys gifts for you, some goodies, decorates the house if necessary. He likes to impress you. Chris will remember and take into account all the things that you like. Chris loves to see your happy smile when you open the wrapping paper.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Often eats a lot to drown out excitement or fear.

Bites his lips when he's worried.

As strange as it may sound, it happens that he forgets to eat. (Oh, this guy apparently has an eating disorder...)

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He looks after himself, but he's not vain. Sometimes he does not see the need for this, but still what no, and self-care makes him feel alive and whole. Chris always smells of some sweet citrus perfume and coffee, his hair is soft and smells of fruit shampoo, and his clothes are smoothly ironed. He's cute.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Definitely yes. You are the most valuable thing in his life, his light and happiness. Therefore, when Murkoff takes it, it will be broken. A man can stop eating, his emotions will become extremely superficial. But it doesn't matter if you stay safe, right? Your gentle image will haunt him in his sleep. Chris wakes up in the middle of the night and looks around the room. But this is a hospital cell. Silent tears will flow down his cheeks. God, why did they do this to him? He wants you so much, his heart breaks, he dreams of your hugs, touches, kisses. Chris is ready to die just to see you again as soon as possible. And will he see..?

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Do you like sweets? Expect that you will find chocolate in the most unexpected places. Do you like flowers? Honey, don't you think there's something missing in our room... What about cute violets? Chris will casually, even without a reason, buy you different gifts. He likes your joy.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He likes everything about you. Absolutely. Your beautiful body, your charming voice, your laughter, your emotions. The only thing he doesn't like (in other people, for example) this is an injustice. If people are offended for nothing, called names, behave arrogantly. He is disgusted by this.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He likes to lie snuggled up to you. Chris is literally a big fluffy cuddle bear, so just hug him at night, darling!

Before going to bed, he will definitely make you both some kind of warm drink: tea, cocoa, it doesn't matter. You will sit in his arms and talk about how your day went. He's a very attentive listener, you can be sure.

If you've had a particularly hard day, instead of the usual shower, Chris will make a full bath for you with bath bombs and fragrant foam. Honey, rose flowers or a glass of wine?

[watermelonlovershigh]

25 Things I Believe Harry Does for You When You're Sick

AN: i got the inspiration to create this from @finelinevogue except they made one about sex. they or someone else could have made a sick list that i'm unaware of but either way, this is my own take on it so i'm not coping anyone. also, i plan to create a list about things you do when Harry is sick and i may create one on what you and Harry do when your kid(s) are sick. just let me know if you'd be interested in that. (and these situations are not in any order as far as the type of sickness. they are in order at random, whenever a scenario popped into my head.)

This contains: talks of vomit, talks of crying, talks of high fevers, naked boobs

{ husband!harry - married for a year - any solo Harry era - no kids yet }

word count: 1105

25 things Harry does for you when you get sick in different scenarios.

1. Makes sure to never leave you alone and stays with you the entire time, afraid something may happen in the mere seconds he's gone.

2. Sets a four to six hour timer on his phone to remind him its time to give you your next dose of medicine.

3. Wakes up periodically through-out the night and uses the thermometer that just hovers over your forehead so he doesn't have to disrupt your sleeping body, but also makes sure your fever never gets too high.

4. When you mention you have a slight tummy ache, not necessary nauseous but just crampy or feeling a bit upset, Harry will place his big hand flat on your belly and rub soothing circles over your stomach until it settles.

5. Just sit on the cold, hard, bathroom floor with you when you're feeling nauseous and say you must be by a toilet in fear you'll actually be sick. It may hurt Harry's bum and back, but nevertheless is by your side the entire time. Day or night.

6. Gathers your hair in a ponytail as you're throwing up in the toilet, so your hair doesn't get in the way of your gushing vomit.

7. If you have an actual virus and unfortunately are unable to stop puking, Harry will put your hair in one of his signature messy buns (the kind he'd wear when he had long hair), allowing him to hold a cool, wet cloth on the back of your neck and help with your cold sweats that occur.

8. When you have a high fever, he'll strip all your cloths off (except your panties), much to your disliking because you're shivering, and make you lay in bed like that. Just under the blankets with your panties on. No top so your breast are on full display. Well under the covers but nevertheless free from clothes.

9. Remind you that when he married you, he vowed In Sickness and In Health, every time you try and push him away, saying you don't want to get him sick too.

10. Brings a bowl of cold water to the bed where you're laying and dips a washcloth into it, wrings it out, and pats it all over your body when your fever is extremely high and you can't even get proper sleep because of it. (the step Harry takes after stripping your clothes didn't work)

11. When you have a migraine, Harry will shut off all the lights and close all the curtains in the bedroom so it's completely dark. Then he'll get into bed with you and hold you close while you attempt to sleep it off.

12. In the case you accidently puke on the floor (like you didn't make it to the toilet in time), he'll grab all the necessary supplies and clean your sick up off the floor, even though he has weak stomach when handling sick throw up.

13. And when you do puke on the floor by accident, you'll usually end up crying from embarrassment and Harry will comfort you by saying stuff like, "My love, its okay. You couldn't help it." or "Baby, no need to cry. You're just sick is all. I'm not mad. I'll clean it up."

14. When you aren't exactly sick but just aren't feeling well, Harry will cuddle you on the couch, a big fluffy blanket on the both of you, and you'll watch movies until you end up falling asleep on his chest and he then carries you up to bed.

15. When one of your friends knock on yours and Harry's front door in the late hours of the night, bringing you home from a girls-night out, and tells Harry you've kind of been sick on yourself, he'll take your drunken body up the stairs and strip off all your clothes until you're completely naked. Then he'll get naked himself and set you on the shower floor to help wash the vomit from your hair and body with the detachable shower head.

16. Cook you homemade chicken soup when you come down with a common cold.

17. Will insist on feeding you the soup he cooked with a spoon, you sitting upright in bed.

18. Holds you to his body when you start crying out that you feel like you're gonna be sick but don't want to be. Harry will say something like, "It's okay if you need to be sick, love. It's better out than in." or "Y/n, if you get sick it might make your stomach feel better. How about we go in the bathroom and you try for me."

19. Will drop what he's doing and come pick you up from your job when you get sick at work.

20. On the way home from picking you up from work because you're sick, Harry will pull off to the side of the road when you moan you're about to throw up. Once stopped, you fling your door open and he quickly steps out the drivers seat and walks around the car to be at your side and comfort you as you're bent over and puking on the grass.

21. On a day that you have sweated from a fever or a cold sweat, he'll run you a warm bath and depending on if you want him to or not, will get into the tub with you and gently helps you bathe off. If you request to be in the tub alone, he'll knell outside the bathtub and bathe you from there.

22. Make sure you keep hydrated at all times, afraid you'll get dehydrated from puking or sweating off your bodies water.

23. Force you to eat something even though you beg Harry not to make you because you fear you'll just throw it back up. And in the cases you do end up throwing the food he made you eat back up, he'll place a bucket in your lap so you don't have to make a run for it to the bathroom.

24. Goes to the store in the middle of the night and picks you up some cold medicine. Along with a box of tissues for your runny nose and some Powerade for your hydration. Maybe even pick up a stuffed animal for you to snuggle.

25. In the case that Harry is in the studio when you get sick, as soon as you call him, he drops everything and comes home immediately to care for you.

My Masterlist Masterpost

[angelbutterfly-writes]

The Play's The Thing

"What if I can't do this..." Lucy paces around the room. "No. No. I can't do this. There's no way in the world I can do this."

"They'll understand if I back out now, right?" She turns to look at herself in the mirror, her eyes travelling down the costume to her bare feet. "It's one thing to go UC, but to actually act on stage.... No, I can't do this-"

"Lucy?" Tim's voice cuts through her panic-induced haze. "Are you ready? The show's about to start."

"I can't do this, Tim." Tugging the red beret off, she tosses it onto the couch. "I just can't."

"Why not?" He steps further into the room, his arms seeking her as he pulls her in for a hug. "What's the matter, Lucy?"

"I can't do this. It was stupid to try out in the first place." She cries into his shoulder, not caring that the makeup was now running down her face. "It was a spur of the moment thing. A moment of insanity. I never should've let myself go through with it-"

"Whoa. Whoa. Where's this coming from?" His hands run up and down her back, offering her as much comfort as he could as he leads the both of them to sit on the couch.

"I just- I just don't think I can do this." She mumbles, wringing her hands close together as she tries to shake off the nerves.

"Lucy, you are the bravest, most confident and talented person I know." He squeezes her hands, telling her he means every single word. "You've been practicing so hard for weeks you practically know the play forwards and backwards. And I'm almost sure you've been reciting lines in your sleep."

"I know but-"

"But nothing." He pulls her in for another hug, planting a kiss to the top of her head. "You are going to kill it out there. You'll be the best Eponine the world has ever seen. You know it, I know it, and now the whole LAPD and the world will know it."

Brown orbs flicker towards him, and he sees the way they seem to sparkle with unshed tears. "What if I mess up?"

She asks the question in the smallest voice he's ever heard, and he wishes he could take away all her fears and insecurities just so he'll never have to hear her sound like that again. Afraid and childlike... nothing like the woman he's come to know and love.

"Then you'll pick yourself up, and continue on." He gently brushes her hair away from her face. "How many times did you mess up when you were my boot? Especially when you were first starting out?"

"Too many times to count." She shares a watery smile, and he's quick to press a kiss to those lips.

"But you still picked yourself up after each and everyone one, and you learnt from them. You continued doing your job and now, you're one of the best cops I know." He reassures her. "This will be exactly like that."

"Thanks, Tim." She buries her head into the crook of his neck, inhaling his calming scent as he gives her a final squeeze.

"You ok now?" He asks, looking her firmly in the eyes.

"Yeah." She smiles. "Just need to touch up my make up."

"No, you don't." Shaking his head, he picks up the beret and deftly places it over her head. "Eponine's a street rat. Her face is meant to be all mussed up."

He ruffles her hair slightly, entangling some of the curls she'd painstakingly set just an hour ago. "But no matter what, you're still beautiful."

"Thank you." She gives him a quick kiss before taking his hand, the pair of them walking out to the stage.

"Break a leg." He whispers as he leaves her to find his seat, waiting for the moment his Eponine will take center stage.