#almost opened ao3 to read fic today and that feels like a huge step in my mental health

[fairydustedtheory]

-

[drewharrisonwriter]

Lifeline - Ch. 6: Ireland

Pairings: Dieter Bravo x Female Reader, referred to as “Honey” 

Series Summary: After basically being dropped and rejected by every PR agency in Hollywood for being such a huge liability, Dieter Bravo must work on resetting his public image in the most unexpected ways.

Author's Notes: I have been working on this fic on and off for the past year, and this story is a little personal to me. Yes, I am trauma dumping in some scenes lol but I also want to say that there will be so many unrealistic things about Hollywood, actors, and PR/Marketing agencies here, to which I apologize.

Warnings: Angst, a little drama, lots of flashbacks. More warnings to come as the story progresses.

Read this on AO3 | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Honey sat in her car, hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white. She stared blankly at the road ahead, her mind replaying every word, every strained look Dieter had thrown her way. The anger, the hurt, the deflection—it was all so painfully familiar. She had thought she’d built enough walls to keep herself safe this time, but the cracks were already showing, and she felt herself sinking under the weight of it all.

She’d done this before—tried to save Dieter from himself, tried to be the steady force when everything else was crumbling. But back then, she’d had something more than hope, she had him… all of him, all of his trust, his love... 

She doesn’t have that anymore. She doesn’t have him anymore. 

Now, all she felt was the gnawing dread that no matter how much she tried, Dieter was always one step away from slipping back into the darkness.

Her phone buzzed in the passenger seat—a message from Mitch, checking in, but she couldn’t bring herself to respond. She knew Mitch was worried too, but he hadn’t seen Dieter like she had, not in the quiet moments when the bravado faded and the fear bled through. Mitch didn’t know the way Dieter’s eyes looked when he thought no one was watching, the way he gripped the edge of his sanity like a lifeline. Honey knew, and that was the part that haunted her most.

Honey forced herself to start the car, driving aimlessly through the city until she found herself back at her office. 

The empty space was a stark contrast to the chaos swirling in her mind. She dropped her bag on the desk and slumped into her chair, letting the stillness wash over her. This place was supposed to be her sanctuary, the life she’d built on her own terms, far from the noise of her past. But today, it felt like everything was closing in.

She opened her laptop, pulling up her schedule, her emails, and anything to distract herself from the gnawing feeling in her chest. But as she scrolled, her mind drifted back—back to ten years ago, to a conversation that had changed everything.

–

They were sitting on the porch of Dieter’s old apartment, the night air warm and thick with the scent of summer. Honey was leaning back, her feet tucked under her, sipping on a glass of iced tea. Dieter had been quieter than usual that evening, fidgeting and lost in thought. Honey noticed but didn’t press him, waiting for him to come around. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he turned to her, a strange mix of excitement and anxiety in his eyes.

“I got the role,” he said suddenly, the words tumbling out almost breathlessly. “Hunger Strike. I got it.”

Honey’s face lit up instantly, a broad smile spreading across her lips. She jumped up, wrapping her arms around his neck in a tight embrace. “Dieter, oh my God! I knew you’d get it. This is it, this is what you’ve been working for!” She pulled back to look at him, her eyes bright with pride. “You deserve this. You’ve worked so hard.”

Dieter’s initial nerves eased as he watched her excitement, and a grin tugged at his lips. He hadn’t realized how much he needed her reaction, her belief in him, to fully accept that this was real. He started talking fast, his mind already racing with plans. “Yeah, I can’t believe it. And guess what? We’ll get to spend like six months in Ireland. I mean, can you imagine? We could explore Dublin on our days off, maybe even head to the countryside—”

Honey’s smile faltered, and she let out a nervous chuckle, interrupting his flow. “Wait, what do you mean ‘we’? I mean, I can’t just pick up and leave, Dieter. I have my job, my students…”

Dieter blinked, caught off guard. “Of course, you’re coming with me. I don’t want to do this long-distance thing, Honey. Everyone knows those never work. We’d be miserable, you’d be here, I’d be there. I don’t want that kind of strain on us.”

Honey sighed, her fingers playing with the edge of her glass. “Dieter, being together doesn’t guarantee things will work out, either. We can’t just uproot everything because it’s convenient right now. We’ve only been together for just over a year, and so much has already changed. What’s another year going to do to us?”

Dieter’s expression shifted, confusion and a hint of panic creeping in. He’d always seen their relationship as solid, something to build on, and her hesitation felt like a betrayal of that vision. “What are you saying? You don’t think we’ll make it?”

Honey hesitated, struggling to find the right words. “I think… I think relationships are complicated. We’re committed, but things change. People change. We’re still figuring us out, and now there’s all this pressure to make it work. We need to be realistic about that.”

Dieter’s mind raced, and the thought of losing her, of being so far away without that certainty, made his chest tighten. The insecurity gnawed at him, so he said the first thing that came to his mind, desperate to anchor them. “Let’s get married.”

Honey laughed nervously, caught completely off guard. “What?”

“I’m serious,” Dieter insisted, leaning forward. “Let’s elope. Before I leave, we can do it. I’ll get you on my insurance, we’ll figure it out as we go. We both want to get married, right? Have tons of kids? Let’s just do it now, lock this down before anything can mess it up.”

Honey’s smile faded, and she shook her head, her voice soft but firm. “Dieter, we talked about this. Yeah, someday, but not like this. We’re not ready. We’re barely figuring out how to live together. Jumping into marriage won’t solve anything.”

Dieter’s frustration bubbled over, his plans unraveling before him. “I’m not saying we have to start a family right now. But I want to marry you, Honey. I want to make sure this—us—doesn’t fall apart because of some stupid distance. It’s the right thing to do.”

Honey could feel the argument heating up, and her own frustrations flared. “Getting married isn’t a band-aid, Dieter! It’s not some quick fix to make us feel better. And it’s not about the ‘right thing to do.’ This isn’t about insurance or logistics; this is about whether we’re ready to take that step.”

Dieter stood up, pacing the porch, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. “So, what? We just stay here and hope things don’t fall apart? I don’t want to be stuck in some maybe-future where we don’t even try.”

“I’m not asking you to be stuck,” Honey said, her voice rising with frustration. “I’m saying we need to be realistic about where we are. You’re about to have your big break, and I’m proud of you, but it doesn’t mean we have to rush into something we’re not ready for.”

The tension thickened, and Dieter’s next words came out sharper than he intended. “Maybe we need a break then.”

Honey froze, her heart plummeting. She scoffed, masking the hurt with anger. “A break? Really? You think that’s the solution? You don’t take breaks in a relationship, Dieter. It’s either you’re in, or you’re out. And it sounds like you want out.”

Dieter’s expression softened, realizing too late the impact of his words. He hadn’t meant to push her away, but the fear of losing her had twisted into something unrecognizable. Honey stood, gathering her things with a shaky breath, her voice quieter now, tinged with sadness. “I wasn’t asking for a perfect plan, Dieter. I just wanted us to keep going, to figure it out as we went. You’re about to do something incredible, something you’ve always dreamed of. And I was willing to wait—to stay here, support you from afar, and make it work. Six months isn’t forever. But if you think a break is what you need, then we’re not on the same page anymore.”

She paused, searching his face for some sign of the man she loved, the man who’d promised they’d face whatever came their way together. But all she saw was confusion and fear, a mirror of her own emotions reflected back at her. “I wanted to be with you, even if it meant being apart for a while. But I can’t make you want that too. I can’t keep holding on if you’re not sure.”

Honey’s voice wavered, a mix of anger and heartbreak that she couldn’t quite hide. “So, go. Go do what you need to do, Dieter. I want you to have this, I want you to be happy. But don’t expect me to put my life on pause while you figure yours out.”

She turned and walked away, her footsteps heavy against the wooden porch, leaving Dieter standing there, stunned and helpless. He wanted to call her back, to take it all back, but the distance between them had already started to grow, an unbridgeable divide that neither of them knew how to cross.

–

Honey sat at her desk, her mind lost in a haze of regret and self-recrimination. The flashback of her breakup with Dieter lingered like a phantom, haunting her even now. She had built a life without him—a successful career, a polished professional persona—but moments like today reminded her how fragile it all was. Beneath her calm exterior, guilt festered, whispering that maybe she had played a part in Dieter’s downward spiral.

What if she hadn’t pushed him away that night? What if she’d gone to Ireland with him, supported his dreams up close instead of from a distance? She had convinced herself back then that she was doing the right thing, setting boundaries to protect them both, but watching Dieter unravel now made her question everything. Honey couldn’t help but wonder if she was partly responsible for the man he had become—the headlines, the scandals, the self-destruction. If she had stayed, could she have saved him from himself?

She sighed deeply, rubbing her temples as she tried to push those thoughts aside. But they clung to her, a weight she couldn’t shake. Honey was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she almost didn’t hear the soft chime of her office door. It was only when she looked up and saw Phil standing there, his familiar smile easing some of the tension in her chest, that she was pulled back to the present.

Phil had always had a way of grounding her, of reminding her that there was more to life than the ghosts of the past. He entered the room with his usual confidence, a bouquet of sunflowers in hand, and Honey couldn’t help but smile despite the heaviness in her heart.

“Hey, you,” Phil said, his voice warm as he approached her desk. He set the flowers down gently, leaning against the edge of her desk with casual familiarity. “Thought you could use a little sunshine.”

Honey smiled, genuinely touched by the gesture. “Phil, these are beautiful. You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” he said simply, watching her with a knowing expression. “Mitch called me earlier, mentioned it’s been a rough day with Dieter. I figured you could use something to brighten it up a bit.” Phil’s voice was gentle, but Honey could sense the unspoken question beneath his words.

She ran her fingers along the petals of the sunflowers, her smile faltering. “Yeah, it was… rough. You know how it is.”

Phil studied her, his expression softening. He knew Honey well enough to understand the weight she was carrying, even if she never fully voiced it. He leaned back, crossing his arms casually. “You don’t have to play it cool with me, you know. You’re always trying to keep it all together, but sometimes you’re allowed to just be… I don’t know, human.”

Honey laughed softly, not out of amusement but because Phil had always seen right through her. “Yeah, well, it’s easier said than done. I’ve got this whole image to maintain, right?” She tried to deflect, but Phil wasn’t buying it.

“I’m not talking about your PR persona,” Phil said, his tone light but sincere. “You’ve built all of this on your own—Trace, the clients, your whole damn empire. But every time you take on something like this with Dieter, you act like it’s just another job when we both know it’s not. You can’t keep pretending this doesn’t get to you.”

Honey’s smile faded, and she met Phil’s gaze. It was moments like this that reminded her why she’d never crossed the line from friendship into something more with him. Phil saw her in a way that made it impossible to hide, and that scared her more than she cared to admit. “It’s not that simple, Phil. It never has been.”

Phil gave a small, understanding nod. “It’s never simple with the people who matter. But that’s kind of the point, isn’t it? You keep taking on everyone else’s mess, but when was the last time you let someone else in on yours?”

Honey opened her mouth to respond, but the words got stuck. She was used to being the fixer, the one who held it all together, and the idea of leaning on someone—even someone as kind and patient as Phil—felt foreign. “I don’t know,” she admitted quietly. “It’s just… complicated.”

Phil didn’t push, but his eyes softened. “Complicated I can handle. But if you keep bottling it up, you’re going to hit a wall.” He reached out and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, a simple, comforting gesture. “You don’t have to do this alone, you know.”

Honey took a breath, feeling a mix of gratitude and guilt. “I know. I’m trying, Phil. I really am.”

Phil gave her a soft smile, sensing her conflict but knowing better than to press further. “Just remember, I’m here. Whenever you’re ready.”

As Phil turned to leave, he paused, watching Honey for a moment. “You know,” he began thoughtfully, “I didn’t put you in this because you were the only option. I did it because I knew you’d see Dieter for who he really is, beyond the mess, the headlines, and all that noise.”

Honey looked up, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. She had always assumed Phil was just helping Mitch out of convenience, but hearing him say it like that made it feel more deliberate—like he believed in her for reasons that went beyond her professional skills.

Phil gave a small shrug, his expression softening. “You’ve always been good at seeing through the bullshit, Honey. And I think, deep down, you’ve still got a little hope left for him. I just… I wanted you to know that I see that, too.”

Honey’s chest tightened, a mix of gratitude and guilt flooding through her. Phil had seen what she hadn’t been ready to admit—that part of her wasn’t just here for a job but because she still cared. She nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “Thanks, Phil. That means a lot.”

Phil smiled, offering one last reassuring squeeze of her hand before he left. The door closed softly behind him, leaving Honey alone with her thoughts and the bright sunflowers that seemed to shine a light on all the tangled strings of emotions she’d been trying to keep and tuck away in a box in her head.

Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

[sequinsmile-x]

Some Things Are Meant to Be

She freezes at the sound of the voice she hadn’t heard in years, her shoulders tight as she turns, her jaw clenched as their eyes meet, a face she hadn’t seen in two decades staring right back at her.

A sequel to Take My Hand, Take My Whole Life Too

Part 2/3

Part 1

-x-

Hi besties!

Here is part 2 to this fic based on a prompt from the lovely @sometimesitswho . I got massively carried away with what I wanted to include in this, so it is now a 3 parter.

Please let me know what you think, your comments mean the world!

-x-

Words: 4.1k

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, but not a main plot point.

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

August 1996

“You look beautiful.” 

Emily smiles as she catches Aaron’s eye in the mirror and turns to look at him, glancing up and down as she takes him in. He was wearing one of the suits he usually wore to work and a new tie she’d specifically bought him for today. It was Gucci, the red silk material soft as she reaches out and adjusts it, and expensive. It was something she would have once bought without thinking about it, not even looking at the price before she made the purchase. 

Now it was something she’d had to save for, the trust fund she’d always had as a safety net gone because she’d fallen in love with the man standing in front of her. She’d put money aside for a few weeks so she could buy it for him and it felt nothing short of amazing when she’d watched him open it last night, love for him swelling in her chest as he insisted it was too much, as if he hadn’t just given her a necklace she never wanted to take off. 

“You don’t look bad yourself,” she says softly, her grip still on his tie as she tugs him in for a kiss. He hums into it, his hand warm through the satin of her dress as he pulls her closer. As she pulls back she rests her forehead against hers, “The tie looks good.” 

He smiles as he reaches out and tucks some of her hair behind her ear, “Thanks, sweetheart,” he says, stepping back to look at her, to take her in. She’d kept the dress a secret from him, hiding it in the back of her closet and telling him not to look before today, and despite his curiosity he was glad he’d waited. That he hadn’t seen the white satin dress that had seemingly been made for her, even though he knew it hadn’t been, on the hanger. A thrill rushing through him at the thought that he’d that he’d only ever seen it on her, “I love this.” 

She feels her cheeks go pink under the intensity of his stare, the unadulterated way he loved her still so overwhelming all these years down the line. 

“Thanks,” she says, looking down at herself, smoothing her hands over the satin that fell to just below her knees, “I know it’s simple-”

“It’s beautiful,” he replies, leaning in to kiss her, “Just like you,” he kisses her again and when he pulls back he can see a flash of something in her eyes, a sadness that always seemed to linger whenever they were on the cusp of something big happening in their lives, her parent's absence always sharper on days like this, “Em, we can always do this another day-”

She shakes her head fiercely as she reaches for his hands, squeezing tightly as she cuts him off, “No, I want to do this,” she assures him, “I want to marry you today. It’s just…” 

She drifts off, not sure how to put it into words, how to express that even though it was almost three years down the line a small part of her still struggled with the fact she didn’t have a relationship with her parents at all. This wasn’t how she’d ever envisioned getting married. Instead of a quiet appointment at the courthouse, she’d always pictured a huge event. Senators and ambassadors invited along to watch her get married in a dress she’d argued with her mother over, not one she’d bought off the rack in a sale, to a man she was sure her parents would have found appropriate. 

“Not what you imagined.” 

She looks up at him as he finishes her sentence for her and she can’t help but smile. Whenever she’d pictured getting married when she was young she’d never quite been able to picture the person standing opposite her, their face blurred and out of focus, but the moment she realised her relationship with Aaron was serious, not just the sex she’d originally kidded herself that it was, she started to picture him. He loved her in a way she always thought would bypass her, something she’d never get to have because it didn’t exist for people like her, and she loved him the same way. 

“Yeah,” she says, looping her arms around his neck, sighing contentedly as their chests press together and he wraps his arms tightly around her, his embrace her favourite place to be. She stamps her lips against his, a soft delicate kiss as she scratches at the back of his scalp. When she pulls back, it’s barely enough just for her to speak, “I think this is better though.” 

___

For a moment, it feels like she’s stepped back in time, her mother’s gaze burning into her. She feels like she’s 16 again and nothing like the confident woman she now is. She hates that it all feels like it’s been stripped away, like she’s a teenager being berated for nothing more than acting her age. 

“You have a daughter?” 

Her eyes snap up to Elizabeth’s when she speaks, her dark eyes meeting the ones she’d passed down onto her own children, and she clears her throat and nods, “Yes.” 

Emily purposely doesn’t mention that she has two other daughters too, seeing no value in bringing them into this situation, a fleeting moment that she wishes she could have protected Evelyn from. 

“I think I heard you call her Evely-”

“What are we doing here, Mom?” She asks, cutting her off as she crosses her arms over her chest, not wanting to hear her mother talk about her little girl, her shackles rising just at the mention of Evelyn’s name on Elizabeth’s lips, “Passing the time of day? I need to get home.” 

Elizabeth furrows her brows and chokes out a derisive laugh, one that Emily had heard countless times in her life, “I’m just surprised to see you, that’s all. It’s not every day you learn you have a granddaughter.”

It’s Emily’s turn to laugh, and she shakes her head, “Well that was your choice wasn’t it.” 

Elizabeth sighs, “Emily-”

“I’ve got to go,” she says, turning to look at the car, not surprised to see Evelyn watching her interaction with Elizabeth, before she looks back at her mother, “I’ve got to get her home.” 

“Emily-”

“You don’t get to have any interest in my life, or her,” Emily says fiercely, turning and walking away before she throws one final comment over her shoulder, “Not when you and Dad decided her father wasn’t good enough for me.” 

She ignores Elizabeth’s final attempts at getting her attention and she walks towards the car with determination in her step. She knows she only has a few seconds to ground herself, to push away the ache that had settled into her chest, and she blows out a slow breath before she climbs into the car, throwing Evelyn a smile as she starts the engine. 

“Mom, who is that woman?” Evelyn asks, turning to look at where Emily had been standing, the other woman already gone. 

Emily can feel her smile get tight as she looks at her daughter, and she knows she’ll have to tell her eventually, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it right now, not when she’d barely got her head around the fact she’d just seen her mother for the first time in twenty years. 

“No one important, honey.” 

Evelyn frowns, clearly not believing her, “But Mom-”

“Evie,” Emily grits out, her grip on the steering wheel tight as she tries not to lose her temper with her daughter, “Please, honey,” she says, looking at her briefly again before she starts to drive, “Not now.” 

Evelyn stares at her, her gaze burning into Emily’s side for a moment before she nods, something Emily catches in her peripheral vision, “Do you think we could get some doughnuts on the way home?” 

Emily sighs in relief, her shoulders sagging with it as she reaches over and briefly squeezes the teenager's hand, hoping she understands how grateful she is, “Absolutely. I think you deserve them after today.” 

Evie smiles at her, clearly happy that she’d cheered her mother up, no matter how briefly, and she reaches over to turn on some music, the rest of their conversation on the way home light and carefree. 

___

Aaron was worried about his wife. 

He could tell something was wrong the moment she’d come home, her smile tight and fake as Evelyn excitedly told him all about her day, about the things she’d learned at the conference. It was only when she’d gone upstairs, excited to spend some time reading the materials she’d been given before dinner time when he’d had a second alone with Emily. 

She’d told him that she’d seen her mother, an undeniable shake to her voice that she’d only ever let him hear as she said it before insisting they’d talk about it later. He knew her well enough to understand that she needed time to think about it herself, to come to terms with randomly seeing her mother after so many years before she spoke to him about it, so he’d simply nodded and pulled her into a hug before Hazel had called for her. Watching her slip back into the role of Mom so quickly would have been jarring if he had never seen it so many times before, her love for their children always overriding everything else. 

He’s just about to seek her out to suggest ordering dinner when he hears a knock on his office door just before it opens and Evelyn walks in, an unsure look on her face as she closes the door behind her. She pulls the sleeves of her sweater down over her hands, her shoulders tight with nerves in a way they never were, her usual self-confidence nowhere to be seen. 

“Are you okay, Evie?” He asks as he stands up, stepping around the desk to put his hand on her shoulder. She blows out a breath and sinks her teeth into her lower lip, looking impossibly more like Emily than she usually does. “Can I…can I ask you something?” 

“Always,” he nods and guides her over to the couch they kept in the home office. It was where Emily would sit when she was pregnant with her and then later Hazel and Mae, she was too uncomfortable to sit at her desk and catch up with her casework, but insisted she didn’t want to sit in a different room to him. He’d bought the couch to allow her to be comfortable and stay close by. 

All these years later he could still picture the way she’d smiled at him as he led her into the office, his hand over her eyes so he could show her the surprise, assuring her he wouldn’t let her and the baby fall. 

“That woman Mom and I saw earlier,” she asks, her hands in her lap as she picks at her cuticles, “Was that…is she Mom’s mom?” 

For the first time, he curses how intelligent his daughter is, and how good she is at putting things together just from a handful of context clues. He clears his throat, “What makes you ask that?” 

She rolls her eyes at him, “Because that’s the only reason I can think of to make Mom as freaked out as she was,” she says, “And she looks exactly like her.” 

He chuckles, “First of all, if you talk to your mom about this, I’d recommend not saying that,” he says, his smile getting wider as hers does, “And yes. That was her mother.” 

They’d given the girls a very watered down version of why they’d never seen or met their grandparents. He knew as they got older they’d need more information, that they’d ask for it, but he hoped they’d be able to get away with it a little longer. He didn’t want to explain to them that the estrangement between Emily and her parents came from the fact they thought he wasn’t good enough for her, because he knew it would imply they weren’t good enough either.

And he never wanted his girls to think they were anything less than important.

Evelyn blows out a breath, her cheeks puffing out with it as she shakes her head, “Poor Mom, that’s…rough,” she tilts her head curiously as she looks at him, “Hasn’t it been forever since she saw her parents?” 

“20 years.” 

“So yeah,” Evelyn says, looking at him in a way only a teenager could manage, “Forever,” she grumbles as she leans into his side, her head on his shoulder as she settles against him. It takes a moment for him to wrap his arm around her, no longer used to the affection from his eldest, “Dad?” 

“Yes, princess?” He says, trying out the nickname she’d declared herself too old for a couple of years ago. If she has a problem with it she doesn’t say anything and instead settles further into his side. 

“I don’t ever want to not talk to you and Mom.” 

Something about the way she says it makes him ache, the vulnerability she so rarely had shining through in every word. He drops a kiss to the top of her head, as he assures her, taking as much from this rare moment between the two of them as he can before she remembers she’s too cool to love her parents like this nowadays. 

“That will never happen, Evie,” he says, kissing the top of her head again, “I promise.”

___

January 1999

“Has it been three minutes yet?” 

Aaron smiles as he checks his watch and then looks back at his wife, “No, sweetheart. Not yet.” 

She grumbles and rests her head on his shoulder, wrapping both of her arms around one of his as she physically has to stop herself from turning around and looking at the pregnancy test on the counter behind them. 

“This might be the longest three minutes of my life,” she complains and he chuckles, pressing a kiss to her temple as she squeezes his arm even tighter. 

They hadn’t been trying that long, only for a few months, but she hadn’t even realised how much she wanted this, until the first time she took a test that had a negative result. The disappointment had been bitter, painful and burning as she tried to swallow it down, tampering it out with hugs and assurances from Aaron that it was okay, that it would happen when it was meant to happen. 

Something felt different this time. She was exhausted and her stomach felt off, the smallest thing prone to making her nauseous. She was trying not to get her hopes up, trying not to get Aaron’s hopes up, but she couldn’t help it. 

She was so entirely ready to start a family with him. 

She was nervous about becoming a mother, an overwhelming fear she could never quite escape that she’d end up being just like hers. That the lack of maternal affection was genetic and she’d never be able to connect with her child like she wanted to. She knew Aaron had similar concerns, his childhood had been wildly different to hers but he’d been left with the same insecurities. He was constantly outrunning his father’s violence, desperately trying to get out from under the shadow of it. 

She knew he had nothing to worry about. He’d never made her feel anything short of safe and loved, and she knew he’d do the same for their children. 

“It will be okay, Em,” he assures her, his cheek against the top of her head, “No matter what.” 

She hums and turns her head to kiss his jaw, “I know.” 

He smiles and checks his watch again and blows out a slow breath, “It’s been three minutes,” he says and she tenses against him, her grip on his arm tight. He turns her to look at him and pulls her against his chest, purposely making sure she can’t see the test, and he runs his hand up and down her back, “You ready?”

She nods and pulls back, her smile shaking a little as they both look down at the test, matching gasps escaping them as they see the bright pink plus sign staring up at them. 

“Oh my god,” she exclaims, picking it up and inspecting it closer, as if the very bright lines would disappear, then she looks up at him, a delighted laugh stuck in her chest, “I’m pregnant.” 

“You’re pregnant,” he confirms, pulling her into a hug, pressing a fierce kiss to her lips, “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” she says, her eyes still fixed on the test before she places it back down, “We’re having a baby.” 

He cups her cheek and wipes away a stray tear, kissing her again before looking at her with such adoration it makes her ache, “You’re going to be such a good mom.”

She chokes on a laugh as she shakes her head at him, once again taken aback by how well he knew her. How easily it came to him to extinguish any flames of doubt that she hadn’t even expressed to him. She cups his cheek and smiles when he turns his head to kiss her palm, her cheeks aching with it.

“You’re going to be an amazing dad.” 

He drops to his knees and presses a kiss to her t-shirt covered stomach and she hugs him to her, her arms wrapping around his head as she uses him to keep her upright, her love for him, for the family they were building, so overwhelming that she thinks she’d fall over without him there. 

“Hi baby,” he says quietly, and she has to press her lips together to stop herself from saying anything, wanting to bask in this soft moment between them, the gentleness no one would ever believe he was capable of if she told them one of her favourite things, “We’re so excited to meet you. And you’re so lucky, want to know why?” He asks and she runs her fingers through his hair, her eyes shining as he looks up at her, still talking to her belly as they maintain eye contact, “You have the best mommy in the entire world.” 

She can’t hold back the sound that comes out of her, something between a sob and a laugh as she places her hand on her stomach.

“You’ve got a pretty incredible daddy too.” She encourages him upwards, smiling as he crowds her against the counter, the positive pregnancy test just behind her, “We’re really doing this.”

He smiles at the awe in her voice, his love for her expanding in his chest, taking up all the space in his lungs and making him light-headed. He kisses her, the action lost to their wide smiles, and then he pulls back as he nods. 

“We’re really doing this.” 

___

Emily smiles softly as she walks into the master bedroom, only slightly surprised to find Hazel fast asleep in their bed, the 10-year-old snuggled up against Aaron.

“I thought she already went to bed,” she says quietly as she walks in, sitting on the edge of the bed and reaching over her husband to run her fingers through Hazel’s hair, “Is she okay?” 

He nods and places his hand on her leg, squeezing her thigh through the material of her pants, “She asked if she could sleep in here,” he says, smiling softly at her, “I thought you could do with the extra company too.”

She huffs out a humourless laugh and nods, leaning in to stamp a kiss against his lips before she stands, “You thought right. I’m just going to get ready for bed.” 

She makes quick work of her night-time routine, barely looking at herself in the mirror, the similarities to her mother staring back at her in a way they hadn’t in a long time. She’d isolated herself all evening, trying to get her head around what had happened. Aaron had taken it in his stride, keeping the girls entertained all evening with the help of Evelyn who had read with Mae until she fell asleep. 

She sighs as she steps back into the bedroom and slips into bed, the weight of the day finally resting on her shoulders the moment she’s lying down. Hazel rolls towards her even though she’s still fast asleep, drawn into her mother’s side almost by instinct. Emily wraps her arms around her daughter and closes her eyes as she breathes her in, the strawberry scent of her shampoo calming her nerves. 

“She emailed me.” 

Aaron frowns as he turns to look at her, his head tilted in curiosity as their eyes meet, “Who did?”

She clears her throat and presses her lips together, cursing herself internally when her voice shakes a little, “My mother.” 

Whatever Aaron had anticipated her to say, it wasn’t that. He feels anger lick at his insides, irritation aimed at a woman he hadn’t seen in two decades threatening to overwhelm him.

“What?” 

She laughs humourlessly and nods, running her fingers through Hazel’s soft hair to distract herself, “Yeah. She emailed me this afternoon, which means she’s always had the capacity to find out where I was working or what I was doing,” she swallows thickly and shakes her head, “Which I guess I’ve always known…but having it confirmed sucks.” 

He feels the anger threatening to take over, everything he’s always to say about her mother on the tip of her tongue, but he sees the grief in her eyes, the sadness she’d put to rest long ago resurrected by a chance encounter and an email she never could have anticipated receiving just that morning. He pushes the anger away, knowing there would be a time and a place and that it wasn’t now. She needed his love, needed him to be the support he had been for the last two decades, so he slips closer, wrapping his arm around her and their daughter, and kisses Emily’s temple.

“What did it say?” 

She sighs, “She wants to see me. She said Dad does too,” she explains, and they fall into a brief silence that she’s grateful for. He knew her better than anyone ever had, and she knew he was waiting her out rather than trying to guess what she wants, “I stopped missing them a long time ago. I don’t think I want a relationship with them, I just want to know what they want.”

She thinks she already knows, a heavy feeling low in her gut that tells her it has everything to do with Evelyn, that her mother may view her as a second chance to have the legacy Emily herself had never quite been able to provide. The thought of it makes her feel sick, protectiveness bubbling in her gut as she thinks of her eldest, of all her daughters, and the life she wants to protect them from. 

“Then we’ll go see them.” 

She frowns as she looks up at him, her eyebrows knitting together as she smiles sadly, “Honey, you don’t have to come with me,” she says, unhooking an arm from around Hazel and cupping his cheek, “You shouldn’t have to face them after everything.” 

She knew that even now, even after everything they’d built together, he still felt as if it was his fault she didn’t have a relationship with her parents. More than once in the weeks and months that followed after them cutting her off he’d asked her if he was worth it. At first, it hadn’t even been about him, it had been about her freedom from expectations she’d never quite been able to escape. 

As time went on, it did become about him. As he went from her boyfriend to her husband and then the father of her children, she became more and more irritated that her parents hadn’t been able to accept him. He loved her in a way that she hoped her girls would one day get to experience, and she couldn’t imagine ever wanting to make them choose between the person they loved and her. 

Aaron deserved better than whatever her parents thought of him, and she wanted to protect him from that. 

“Sweetheart,” he says, his voice firm but kind as he kisses her palm, his breath tickling her skin, “I’d never make you go alone. We’ll face them like we do everything else - together.” 

The relief she feels is palpable and she nods, leaning in to kiss the corner of his lips, “Together.” 

-x-

Tag List :

@ssa-sparks , @ptrckjcne , @lyds102 , @glockleveledatyourcrotch , @hotchnissenthusiast , @danadeservesadrink , @ssamorganhotchner , @emilyprentissisgod , @notagentprentiss , @freesiasandfics , @emilyshotchniss , @thecharmingart , @paulitalblond , @hancydrewfan , @camille093 , @whitecrossgirl , @moonlight-2-6, @rawr-jess , @florenceremingtonthethird, @jareauswife , @ms-black-a , @beebeelank , @aubreyprc , @zipzapboingg , @psychopath-at-heart , @criminalmindsgonewrong , @fionaloover , @kinqslcys , @prentissinred , @ccmattis-22 , @denvivale317 , @thrindis , @hotchsguccitie , @cmfouatslota77 , @alexblakegf , @aliensaurusrex, @prentissxhotch , @emobabeyy , @victoiregranger , @stormyweatherth , @wanderingdreamer009 , @ssablackbird , @luhwithah , @lex13cm , @prentisstheorem, @dont-emily-me , @mrs-ssa-hotch , @jocyycreation, @itsmytimetoodream , @hotchnissgroupie, @controversialpooh, @capsshinyshield , @canuck-eh

Join my tag list here!

[vampiredayflower]

read my fic!! called I'd like to be suddenly discovered by you.

Eddie finds the place accidentally, he’s out on a walk, it’s the first real warm day of the spring he’s actually gotten to experience, that he’s not cooped up working for. He’s thinking of turning around when he stumbles across it. It’s a small cafe with yellow awnings, and sunflowers painted on the windows with a tangle of greenery around them.

The sign on the awning proclaims it’s Robin’s with a little red bird on it, with a pink bow on around its neck.

It’s not the type of place that normally would draw him in, but this time it does. Maybe it was the dreary winter, and this place seems to be spring bottled. Maybe Eddie is desperate for sunshine.

At least today he is. So the next chance he gets he crosses the street, the open sign is handwritten in pink swirling lettering. The bell rings overhead when he steps inside, immediately he’s hit with the scent of cinnamon and warm bread baking, the lights overhead are warm instead of harsh florescent, the temperature is on the right side of warm but not too warm or too cold.

All the chairs are in fun colours and comfortable looking with small tables and bigger tables depending on your party. His eyes almost instantly catch on a door near the back, where it has a d20 on a sign that says campaign in session, only a small window above it.

The cafe itself is scarcely packed with customers for the time of day, teenagers in the back corner talking among themselves and gigging, older women hunched over knitting, a man reading the newspaper.

Everything about this place seems to want to knock him on his ass. The back wall behind the counter is a huge mural drawing in all of the colours of the chairs to tie them into the room or some shit, the sign itself for the food and drink is thankfully not written in the same hand from the open sign, in much more readable font in big letters in blue chalk.

It takes him almost too long to notice that he’s being stared at by the person behind the cash, he gives him a cheery smile when he catches his eye finally, it hits Eddie right in the chest, the man is his height, with fluffy hair and wire rimmed glasses and brown droopy eyes, and moles dotting his face that makes it so much worse. Freckles and moles have always been his weak spots, and this guy is hitting all of his attractions with his yellow sweater.

Eddie’s face suddenly feels warm.

The guy gives him another sweet smile when Eddie stops staring like a creep and actually walks closer to the counter. “First time?” His voice matches his smile, but there’s humour to his words that Eddie doesn’t understand.

“Eh, yeah.” Equivalently put Eddie, really showing your craft with words with that one.

Eddie tries not to be more charmed as that draws out a bigger smile from the man, Eddie’s eyes flick down to his name tag, ‘Dingus,’ it says in bold letters, next to a pin that says ‘hearing impaired’ with a small ear with a cross over it.

read full work on ao3

[downwiththeficness]

Shadow and Veil-Chapter Thirty Seven

Summary: Eva Moore’s life was a carefully constructed fiction.  Every day, she did exactly what her mother in law, her husband, and his  best friend expected of her. No mistakes. And, that was going pretty  well for Eva right up until a huge complication literally tried to run  her over. Now, she’s faced with trying to keep the pieces of her life  from falling apart while attempting (and failing) to keep her feelings  for her husband’s new business partner at bay.

A/N: This fic is a sister-fic to A Need So Great and A Need Unleashed.  You do not need to have read ANSG or ANU to read this fic, but there  are Easter eggs from those fics in Shadow and Veil for readers with keen  eyes.  This fic is explicit for canon-compliant blood, gore, violence,  and sex. As such, it is intended for an adult audience, only. A/B/O  dynamics come with their own warning. Anyone under the age of 18 should  not interact with this work. I do not consent to reposting this work to  other platforms. Reblog only to Tumblr.  

Word Count: ~3,200

Start from the beginning    Previous Chapter  Next Chapter  

Masterlist            Read on AO3

Eva didn’t so much wake as she roused from a half waking state. Sitting up, she blinked blearily until her vision focused enough so that she could stand. The sunlight was streaming through the windows and she could hear birds chirping in the trees. It was a morning very much like every other morning since Eva came to the house—with one glaring exception.

Above, the shower was running.

She sidestepped her heels on her way to the stairs. Her body ached from having laid on the couch all night. Eva couldn’t decide whether or not she should have just gone to bed. At the time, the choice had been impossible. Even now, Eva struggled with knowing she wouldn’t be able to take Horacio’s rejection—real or imagined.

With each step, Eva cringed. She hadn’t mapped the creaks and groans of the house yet, didn’t know how to move silently from room to room and floor to floor. She would forgo her usual walk today and start working on it. Come evening, Eva would know exactly where to step.

Moving lightly down the hall, Eva slid into the guest bathroom and emptied her complaining bladder. She washed her hands, keeping her eyes from the mirror. Eva didn’t want to look at herself.

On her way out, she glanced longingly at the open bedroom door. Horacio was still showering and she might be able to get a change of clothes and get back into the hall without him noticing. He had a long morning routine, taking his time shaving and running gel through his hair to tame the wild curls.

Deciding against it, Eva hurried back too the stairs. Her steps were, perhaps, too hasty. She stumbled over the runner on the second stair and quickly tipped headfirst into a fall. Her arm clipped the banister, but the momentum of her body kept her from getting a good grip. Instead, the limb slipped between the spindles so that her wrist took almost her entire body weight.

Lips pulled back from her teeth, Eva hissed in pain. Her feet pushed into a stair so that she could sit upright. Every move sent a lance of pain from her wrist up her arm and into her shoulder. She eased her arm from the spindle and dropped down the remaining stairs on her butt. Her wrist was throbbing with pain and already swelling. Eva rolled her shoulder and found that she had full range of motion. Her wrist, on the other hand...

The shower stopped.

Injury cradled into her chest, Eva scrambled to standing and scurried to the kitchen and through to the back porch so that she could think about how she was going to handle being a complete klutz on top of her argument with Horacio.

Breathing through the pain, Eva sat down on the porch stairs. She looked down at her wrist and winced. The inside was raised and bruising slightly. Careful fingers prodded at it. Didn’t feel broken, but it was a hell of a strain.

Booted feet dropped down that stairs.

Holding her arm into her belly, Eva prayed that Horacio would just grab his lunchbox and go so she could deal with her arm in peace. Her prayers weren’t answered.

The back door opened and Horacio poked his head out, “I’m heading to work.”

Eva half turned and replied in a bright tone, “Okay! I’ll see you when you get home.”

He paused and looked like he wanted to say something, but didn’t. A nod, and he closed the door. Eva listened for the engine of his truck to turn over before she got up and went back into the house.

A quick search of the freezer produced an ice pack that she gratefully laid against the hot skin of her wrist. She loosed a relieved sigh and leaned against the counter. God, she was an idiot. Couldn’t even get down the stairs without fucking up. Eva had to get this taken care of before Horacio got home.

She needed a doctor, possibly a splint, and pain meds. All of which should be easy enough to get.  The first step was to call a cab and arrange a ride. Simple. Easy.

Plan in place, Eva held the ice pack to her wrist and (very carefully) went up the stairs to the bedroom. Changing clothes was an act of physical gymnastics that tested her patience and her pain tolerance. As was washing her face and trying to arrange her hair into a clip.

When she felt like a person again, Eva grabbed money from her stash and left the bedroom. She stalled at the top of the stairs. Ice pack dripping over her arm, Eva straightened her shoulders and sat on the first step. One by one, she slid downwards. She felt like an idiot and a child the whole way.

Safely at the bottom, Eva stood and went to the phone. She’d memorized the number of the phone company by now and dialed it in a quick succession of tones. Afterward, she went out to the front porch with her ice pack and waited.

The day was cool and balmy, which helped Eva keep focused while the pain slowly worked its way to the forefront of her consciousness. Her head was slowly pulsing in time with her wrist and it made Eva long for the days when she could get a painkiller without having to go through the messy experience of having to talk to anyone.

It was the one silver lining of living with Josh.

She waited far too long for the car to pull into the drive. The driver seemed to be apologizing, but Eva was in too much pain to do the work of translating. She just held up her wrist and said ‘hospital’. The driver took one look at it and waved her inside. Although Eva wasn’t paying that much attention to the world as it flew past her, she thought they broke a few laws on the way.

After paying the driver, she toddled into the building and looked for the intake desk. The paperwork they handed her felt impossible to read and it took her more than half an hour to scratch out her information. Then, it was a matter of sitting in the lobby until they had a room available for her.

At least they gave her a fresh ice pack while she waited.

Eva waited a long time.

There was no clock on the wall, but she felt every second as it went by. The triage process seemed like it was first come, first serve. Eva counted the people who arrived before her, watching each in turn as she anticipated hearing her name called out by a nurse.

Juliana Carrillo.

It felt strange writing it on the intake form—she’d almost written ‘Eva Moore’ out of sheer habit. Putting pen to paper somehow made it feel more official than looking at the marriage certificate Horacio filed with the government.

Eva’s thumb brushed the inner knuckle of the ring finger on her left hand. She wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, but she could feel the ghost of the one currently stowed away in her jewelry bag as if it were still there. It occurred to her that Horacio wasn’t wearing a ring, either.

She occupied the rest of her waiting time thinking about if it mattered.

Once she got back to the examination room, Eva forced herself to slowly sound out the words. The nurse was impatient, performing the vitals through rote memory. It took effort for Eva to remain calm, but the pain seemed to increase with every misstep she made.

The nurse left and Eva let out a shuddering breath. She swallowed down the inexplicable urge to cry—there was no need for it. In a few minutes, she would have meds and (hopefully) a new ice pack. Everything was fine. She just had to get through another few minutes.

Another few minutes turned into three quarters of an hour.

The doctor was much more kind of to her. He looked at her wrist and ordered an x-ray to make sure it wasn’t broken. She got a shot of pain killer to ease her suffering in the meantime. It wore off by the time the doctor returned with the results from radiology. Only a sprain, but she would have to have her wrist splinted for a few weeks. He encouraged her to make an appointment with her primary physician and Eva didn’t have the heart to tell him she didn’t have one.

She had to pay the bill up front and was glad she thought to grab money before she left the house. Eva walked out of the building and sat on a bench under the awning of the building. Her wrist was in a splint, she had a bottle of pain killers, and not enough money for the cab ride home. Eva furiously dug through her purse, coming up with only about three dollars. Not enough to get her home.

Frustrated and exhausted, Eva dry swallowed a pill and tried to think. She could go as far as the cab would take her and walk the rest of the way. A look down at her shoes told Eva that she would end out with a pain in her feet that matched the one in her arm and head. Going barefoot was an even less enticing thought.

A small voice in the back of that head reminded her that she had someone she could go to who would give her a ride home. She looked down the street. His office was near enough that it would take no time to walk there. But, then, she’d have to make her way through a bunch of strangers with an arm half wrapped and eyes red from crying. The experience wasn’t exactly palatable.

Or…

Or, she could hang out until he got done with his shift, which would be in a few hours. A few hours didn’t seem so bad. She could do that. Simple. Easy.

With a renewed sense of purpose, Eva got up and started walking. One foot in front of the other, head high. On the way, she passed a little store that advertised frozen Popsicles in a variety of flavors. She bought one along with a soda and a pack of chips.

Eva turned into the parking lot just as the pain killer kicked in. Feeling lighter, she took a turn around the lot to look for Horacio’s truck. Finding it, she dropped the tailgate and hopped up to sit and wait. Legs dangling, Eva ate the Popsicle and watched people as they went about their lives.

Cars whizzed up and down the street. Mothers with babies bought groceries. Couples had meals outside a little cafe. Eva entertained herself by making up little stories in her head—the man smoking a cigarette outside a butcher had three kids that he was supporting, one of which would be a lawyer. The young woman carefully selecting a bouquet of flowers was going to her mother’s for dinner. The kid begging for a candy sucker had a sister at home that drove him crazy, but he’d knock the shit out of anyone who messed wit her.

She continued on like that while she drank the soda and ate the chips. Belly full, Eva could feel fatigue setting in. She slid further into the truck bed and rested against the cab.

“Eva?”

Flinching awake, Eva saw Horacio standing at the back of the truck with a confused expression on his face.

“What are you doing?”

Not entirely certain how to explain the situation, she held up her arm, “I fell.”

He stared at it, “You’re hurt.”

“Doctor said it was just a sprain.”

The confusion on his face deepened and his words were slow, “You went to a doctor.”

Eva nodded, “He gave me medicine and said I have to wear this,” she waved the splint, “for a few weeks.”

Horacio pulled his lips between his teeth, then flicked his fingers at her, “Come here.”

She scooted to the edge of the truck bed until her legs dropped over the edge. Horacio stepped up to her and reached for her arm. Eva held it out to him, watching his face closely for signs of anger.

Horacio inspected the splint with a clinical eye, “Its too tight. We’ll re-wrap it when we get home.”

He guided her down off the tailgate and pushed it closed. Eva got in the truck, feeling the weight of his watchful stare and wondering if they were going to fight again. She folded her hands in her lap and kept her gaze on the windshield while he backed out of the parking space.

“You know,” Horacio said conversationally, “I thought my men were playing a prank when they told me someone was sleeping in my truck.”

Eva almost laughed, “I’m sorry. They wouldn’t bill me for the hospital visit and I didn’t have enough money to get back.”

“You should have called me.”

She said nothing to that. The emotions that went along with her thought process that morning felt raw and vaguely embarrassing.

“Where did you fall?”

This, she could answer, “Down the stairs.”

“Down the—Eva,” there was something similar to anger in his tone. Similar, but not the same, “Is there more than just your wrist?”

She shook her head, “No. Everything else feels fine. Except my head hurts.”

Horacio’s head whipped to the side, “You hit your head?”

“No. Its just sympathizing with my wrist, I think.”

A deep sigh.

Eva was quiet the rest of the drive.

When they got back to the house, Horacio tossed his keys down on the new dining room table and directed her to sit on the couch. Eva listened to him dig around in the hallway closet before coming back with a first aid kit. He sat opposite her and began to slowly unwrap her wrist.

When the bruised skin was revealed, Horacio hissed through his teeth, “This is a deep sprain.”

“Uh huh.”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

Eva stared at him, chastened by the exasperation on his face, “We had a fight.”

“And?”

“I thought you were still mad at me.” Her voice was so small that it pained her to hear it, “And, you would get more mad at me if I told you I was stupid enough to fall down the stairs.”

Horacio leaned away from her and his eyes flicked across her face. Eva couldn’t tell what he might be thinking, but she didn’t like the way they narrowed at her. “Eva, when did this happen?”

His tone had shifted subtly. It was less confused, less exasperated. More solid. Commanding.

“This morning.”

“When this morning?”

She felt an unseen pressure around her, as if the walls of the room were closing in, “A while after I woke up.”

Horacio’s mouth thinned, “Before or after I left for work.”

Shit.

“Before.”

He drew in a calming breath that didn’t seem to calm him at all.

“Its just that we were fighting,” she said quickly in an effort to explain, “You were so upset last night and I didn’t want to make things worse.” A pause, “I thought I would take care of it while you were at work.” Another, longer pause. Then, softer, “I didn’t want to bother you.”

Warm hands covered hers, “I don’t understand how this could bother me. What kind of husband would I be if I got angry just because you were hurt?”

Oh.

The grinding gears of Eva’s thoughts slotted into place and she realized her mistake. And, it was a mistake. A big one. “I’m sorry,” she breathed, “I’m so sorry.”

Horacio shook his head and worked on wrapping the splint. Eva watched his hands. They were confident and steady as he adjusted the tension, made sure the splint was in the right place. When he was finished, he told her to wait on the couch.

Eva did as she was told, listening anxiously while he moved about upstairs. She thought about taking another painkiller, but she wanted to be alert for whatever came next.

Horacio returned and held out his hand for her. Eva took it and followed him up the stairs to the bedroom. In the doorway, she stopped moving.

The bed didn’t look at all like it was supposed to. Every pillow and blanket in the house, even the ones they bought specifically for a guest room they hadn’t yet decorated, was piled high onto the mattress. She could see a small divot in the middle that was just big enough for one person.

“What is this?” she asked in a voice that cracked with emotion.

Horacio pushed her further into the room, “You’re exhausted and in pain. You need to nest.” When she didn’t say anything or make any movement towards the bed, he emphasized, “Its a nest, Eva.”

“I know what a nest is,” she grumbled. “I just don’t know why you made one for me.”

“Because you need it,” he replied simply.

Encouraging hands led her to the best and helped her to sit. Horacio knelt down in front of her and removed her shoes and socks. Eva watched him with a lump in her throat that she couldn’t suppress. Biting down hard on her lip couldn’t keep the tears back. A whole day of stress leaked out from her body, sucking the energy from her.

Dark eyes glanced up at her. Eva couldn’t take that calm, inquisitive gaze. She covered her face with her hands.

He said her name lowly, rising to sit next to her, “What is it, now?”

Sniffing loudly, Eva gestured helplessly, “You just...did all this,” more helpless gestures, “and I was being such an asshole to you.”

Horacio’s eyes glinted with amusement, but he did not laugh, “I was being an asshole to you, too.”

“No, you weren’t!” she asserted vehemently.

“I was. I shouldn’t have left during our argument last night.”

The man had a point—a point Eva wasn’t going to let him have, “You were right. I was overreacting.”

He laid a hand on her arm, “I think we were both overreacting. But, its done. Lay down.”

Eva didn’t lay down.

She wiped her face and threw her arms around his shoulders to hug him close. Horacio leaned into her, breathing deep. After a moment, he eased her down into the nest. Eva pulled him down with her. Laying on his side, Horacio pushed her hair from her face, “You’ll feel better after you get some rest.”

Eva nodded and lifted her chin to take a kiss. She could feel him smile into it. Her good arm rotated so that her hand could run up the center of his chest. His heart was beating a strong rhythm below her palm and sent a wave of calm through her body.

He pulled away, “You said you had medication.”

She wanted more kisses.

Horacio chuckled as he dodged her lips, “Rest.”

Eva made a disgruntled noise, but snuggled down into the blankets while he rolled from the bed. She was surrounded by their combined scents, but the things that made their life soft and comfortable. The pain in her wrist receded along with her consciousness.

She slept deeply, waking just as the sun was setting. On the nightstand by the bed was her med bottle and a glass of water. Eva smiled and went back to sleep.

[shingansoul]

Smile Like You're Supposed To (Super Sentai fic)

Sumary:

Zox has travelled to hundreds of worlds in his life, it makes sense that he would end up at ones not too far off from Kikaitopia once things settled out there. Likewise, it makes sense that some worlds were closer or farther from similar to each other. And so when this world so close to what he found a home in proved to be missing what was most important, he takes to the company of a strange stranger to pass the time. He couldn't have expected just how interesting a decision that would prove.

Written as a gift for @muzzleofnemesis

To read on AO3, follow the link below. To read here, continue past the read more!

Not every world had one, something Zox was incredibly thankful for. Across the thousands of worlds out there both old and new to him, many people seemed to have equivalents of themselves across them. The more important to the world they started in, the less common of a repeat however was one rule he had noticed. And following such a rule meant there were very few Kaito’s across the worlds. He had only met 3 Kaito across hundreds of worlds in his life so far, and he was a bit loathe at the idea of finding any others as he knew there was only one he wanted or needed in his life. He knew who his friend was, any sham of a copy wasn’t worth his time, though even still that didn’t stop him from morbid fascination when his Kaito was out of reach.

There was one world that was so eerily close to the world his Kaito was from, but even without the right people being entirely missing it felt off. It wasn't as bright, people weren't as warm and full of love here. Not that it was something dreary by contrast, but the vibrancy and hub of life and casual warmth that Kaito’s hometown and world brought with it just weren't present. People were similar enough but he didn't feel welcome inherently here like he did in Zenkaitopia. Was it because the home of all that vibrancy and color and Kaito was not present, Café Candy Colorful being replaced by the much more subdued Cafe Donbura? Zox couldn't be certain, but it all felt so wrong. Yet, here he was once again stepping past the low short curtains over the entrance into the café painted in drab whites and browns instead of the splashes of a rainbow palette on every wall and surface that he would instinctively always look for.

He scanned the café upon entering, finding it almost empty today and not even the server girl who he had seen last time was there to greet him. Even so, as always, this world’s “Kaito” was seated behind the counter and looked up with a dispassionate expression. Their eyes met and Zox had to fight the urge of challenge that threatened to rise in him, breaking eye contact first on purpose by looking at the tables out on the floor to decide on his own seating. “Kaito” never interrupted him, waiting patiently for whatever the pirate had to say or offer. Their first interaction had been one of false expectations and a bit too heated a tone as Zox sneered the entire time, unimpressed. Zox simply wanted what this café had to offer even if its owner was all wrong and so he tried to come off as casual and calm as he could.

He made to settle at a corner table that was open before his hazel gaze was drawn to the one across it, occupied by the only other patron in the establishment. The table was littered with a huge stack of books, their spines facing away from him so he couldn't speculate on what they were. Otherwise there was a small coffee cup in front of them as they seemed engrossed in the book currently in their hands. In fact, he hadn’t moved at all to indicate he noticed anyone else entering the quiet of this place, his keeping still keeping him from Zox’s initial notice as well. Taking in the other person, their black hair hung just past their shoulders, their clothes all the same shade of brown with clasps and pockets sewn into them almost as decoration over any real function. Their jawline very sharp and defined from a side profile, though Zox couldn't help from humming aloud in interest as his gaze settled on the ornate cuff on the other patron’s ear.

“I’ll take the other seat here, if it’s free?” 

He called out his question, though he stared at his potential table-mate pointedly waiting for some kind of response. A few beats of silence went on, Zox’s easy smile twitching at the corners a bit in slight impatience at being seemingly ignored. He blinked a few times, making to repeat himself before “Kaito” beat him to it, calling out in a soft tone.

“Sonoza.”

“Ha?”

The reply from the other, Sonoza as it were, was a harsh shout more than it was a real answer. Even so, Kaito merely calmly waited until strikingly copper almost golden eyes flicked up finally in attention. Zox noted how almost otherworldly they made his face seem, his high cheekbones and narrow face only drawing more attention to them.

“This patron would like to know if you would share your table with him.”

Zox fought a frown at how monotone the man’s tone was, nothing like the energy it should have. Though he was quickly distracted from those thoughts as molten eyes swiveled to regard him in appraisal, as if their warmth and intensity could set him aflame right here. Zox tilted his head to the side slightly, gesturing to the open chair once more.

“Would that be a problem? Sonoza was it? Just thought I'd enjoy some company while I was here and that does seem to point me in your direction.”

He let a playful smile return to his lips, hoping that would coax the other. In response, Sonoza cocked his head, almost a twitch really, in a notably inhuman way and he never broke away from looking the pirate over. If anything, he scrutinized him harder and it made Zox wonder if this simple stop by would end up an altercation after all. After a few more beats, as if he had been on some kind of timer, Sonoza suddenly kicked his leg forward into the edge of the empty chair, sending it aggressively skidding a couple feet away from the table. 

“You smile like Sonoi and Sononi do.” 

He spoke with a finality, as if with that he had cast some sort of judgment. But with a rough and audible exhale through his nose, his features seemed to jump quickly to one of light confusion.

“The seat’s open, didn't you want it?”

Zox, reeling a little from the quickly changing actions over the last moments, blinked at him a few times before it clicked that the aggressive move was this person’s own version of an invitation. He moved over and dragged the chair back to the table, sliding into it with his legs to the side crossed loosely for space as he let himself twist a bit to face his odd companion for the time being. He didn't bother voicing an order, knowing that “Kaito” had already been made clear of the only thing he would order from this establishment from his previous visits. He was always well stocked and prepared for anything it seemed, and it saved Zox words with him so despite the initial discomfort of being studied and known by a stranger wearing a friend's face, this was ultimately the lesser evil.

He rested his elbows on the table, threading his fingers to make his hands into a cradle for his chin to rest upon as he took further stock of Sonoza. Sonoza seemed to be staring right on back, but it wasn't with any particular emotion outside of mild interest and that seemingly inherent intensity set to his features. It came off aggressive certainly, but Zox was starting to see it as more one not realizing his own effects on those around him instead of anything intentional.

“What you said about my smile, what did you mean?” 

Without missing a beat, Sonoza responded in a tone that though not particularly deep had a bit of a gritty forced out texture to it.

“Your smile is too seductive, it’s to make people give you what you want not because you want to smile. My nakama both do the same thing, they want things of humans so they do that. I copy humans instead though.”

Zox “hmmm” ‘ed in acknowledgement, letting the information thrown at him sit for a minute as he took it in. In just one answer, he had learned this person was not human, he was not alone, and he found his smile to be “seductive.” This was certainly shaping up to be an interesting visit after all.

“Seductive, hm? You’re not the first to say something like that to me.”

 He let his words roll off his tongue like a purr, trying to get some kind of reaction out of the man across from him. Sonoza just nodded in acceptance, merely taking it as being told a fact; he didn't take the bait in the slightest, that was no fun. Still, he had the other’s attention so he figured it wasn't a dismissal and tried for something else.

“You’re not human.”

“Cerebran.”

Well, that was a new one. And that was an oddity to be something new in a place he had already visited. “Ah?”

“We live off human brainwaves and emotions, but humans don’t usually know we exist. Me and my nakama live here with humans though since we betrayed the Cerebrans in our dimension.”

Zox fiddled with the rings on his hands absently with his thumb without moving from his position. Sonoza and whoever the others were must have either been in hiding before now, or they had only just recently started living amongst humans. Sonoza seemed comfortable enough to just blurt out such information, but whether that meant he knew more than he looked like he did or if he simply was that comfortable amongst humans was hard to say. All his answers felt genuine enough so far, and he didn't seem the type to hide things with how blunt he spoke.

“Does that mean you side with humans then?” He threw out the next line with a wink, a smirk pulling on the corners of his mouth. “Do I need to be worried?”

Sonoza once more jerked his head into a tilt the far other way now, a bit too fast and sharp a movement to be normal for a human or comfortable for that matter. He took a moment to answer, seeming to think on his response this time around. Zox waited with interest, not quite patient but he was fascinated enough to feign it.

“Humans make wonderful things, and they tell stories that move your heart in ways not even your own story can. So if I get to have those things by keeping them safe, that’s okay,” he never paused in speaking, though his next words seemed almost an unrelated thought to the blonde and it almost sent him reeling once again. “I learned about the human heart from ‘First Love Hero’. The vibrant and wide range of emotions the heroine experiences as she navigates highschool and hero work alongside all the romantic advances on top of it taught me a lot.”

Zox chuckled, not able or caring enough to stop himself. This imposing man with the intensity of magma in his eyes learned about the human heart from…shoujo manga? Zox would have called bullshit were it not for the open expression the other wore, his tone once more only stating a fact more than denoting any kind of distinct stance. The sincerity Sonoza offered only served to make him laugh even more, shaking his head in slight disbelief that such a person would be behind that aggressive persona. As he started to calm himself back down, he almost jerked away on reflex as Sonoza stood suddenly and lurched across the table and jabbed a finger to his cheek just barely missing the edge of his mouth.

“That laughter, can you do it again? You smiled normally too, like you’re supposed to when you mean it. And you had one of those…those..,” He paused, a slight pout pushing onto his lips as he struggled for the word he wanted. Seeming to give up after a few beats, he moved to now use both hands to poke at matching points on Zox’s face. Zox blinked at him, his brows scrunching in befuddlement at the sudden handling, but before he could say anything or pull away, he once more overheard “Kaito” cut in.

“Dimples?”

Sonoza’s eyes lit up and he nodded very seriously, never looking away from Zox’s face.

“Those, you had them! ‘Dimples.’ “ he said the word again, as much as an assertion to the pirate as feeling the word on his own lips to remember it.

 Zox lightly bat at the prodding fingers, moving to grab the others wrists and physically push Sonoza back partially into his seat and back across the table. Zox felt his irritation flare a bit, but he gave pause at how calmly Sonoza was still looking at him and how willingly he let himself be grabbed, rather firmly, in honesty. Zox gave an experimental squeeze to tighten further his grip and Sonoza looked at where their contact was held but more with curiosity than any sense of offense or concern and he still made no attempt to pull away or squirm. He sighed, shaking his head again and practically guiding Sonoza back to sitting in his chair again, he released his wrists and let himself drop back into his seat, crossing his arms across his chest. It was definitely not to prevent himself from rubbing at his face where he had been prodded, not at all.

“Most people can’t just...laugh on command, you know. And don't go poking at me whenever you like, you don’t even know my name.”

“So tell me who you are, then I’ll know.”

Zox huffed a laugh, exasperated but not unamused by the odd person he had found himself seated with. He stood up with an exaggerated flourish, stepping to the side of his chair so he would have enough room for his next actions. He’d hate to try and make a show out of himself just to kick a table leg or something and look like an idiot. He began softly, rising in volume as he went and a grin split his face in earnest as his body fell into step with oh so familiar twists and turns.

“Yo-ho-hoy, yo-ho-hoy, yo-ho-hoy-hoy~ I'm a world pirate, in search of treasure, I sail from sea to sea~ I'm a world pirate, in search of freedom, I sail from world to world~ No matter what I always get what I want, and when I do I always feel good!”

He stopped on the beat with a dramatic extension of his hand and a wink, his grin still firmly on his face at getting to show his routine to yet another new person.

“The name is Zox Goldtweaker, captain and leader of the Goldtweaker family.”

Sonoza offered him the same intense neutral expression he had for most of their interaction so far, and he was a bit disappointed he hadn't garnered any real reaction when just as suddenly as everything else he did, Sonoza smiled so wide it seemed his face would split from it. It scrunched his eyes near closed from how his cheekbones sharply pushed up into his eyes and his teeth were in full display, his unnaturally sharp canine teeth poking past his lips and then some. Zox “ho?” ‘ed in interest, making to drop his stance and put a hand to his hip as he looked at the other. It was earnest and a bit endearing admittedly, though the sudden shift in the other’s expression did take him off guard a bit. Acting on impulse despite his own earlier words, he stepped forward and leaned down to lightly pinch at Sonoza’s cheek, tutting as he spoke in a teasing tone.

“Where was this hiding, hm? You’ve been eagle eying me since you saw me, now you can smile like this?”

Sonoza let his smile drop a little so he could properly look at Zox, vibrant eyes sliding up to meet darker ones. Just like earlier, he didn't pull away from the contact or even acknowledge it really and he pushed forward like it was the most natural thing in the world for a stranger to do.

“Your song was fun and refreshing, it made my heart feel warm and I got to see you smile again. So I smiled back. When humans enjoy things together, I've seen them often smile or laugh together. I'm the best at smiling of the three of us, smiling and laughing, since I've watched so many humans do it.”

Zox hummed, letting go of the other’s cheek and plopping himself once again back into his seat. As he did, Sonoza took a sip of the by now probably cooled coffee in his cup, having been left forgotten on the table in the wake of Zox’s presence. Sonoza made no reaction though, unbothered by if it was cold or overly bitter by this point.

“Did your nakama not also watch humans smile and laugh?”

Sonoza hummed into his drink, swallowing almost exaggeratedly with a flick of his head that showed off his throat much more than was necessary.

“Sononi wanted to learn about love, so she would keep going on dates and try to get people to confess to her so she could ask them what their love was like. Sonoi preferred beauty though, so he tended to look at the things people made and why more than he spoke to people. He thinks people are beautiful in their own way so he helps them out a lot, but he doesn't talk to them really unless they make an impression on him.” he scrunched his nose, the first real emotion outside his base tone really showing through in his voice as he continued.

“I think they took way too round about methods of figuring out humans though.”

Zox felt himself fond of petulant expression crossing the man’s face, pressing to see what else he could see on those distinct features.

“And you’re the best at understanding us then?”

Sonoza paused, another sip of coffee passing his lips. Was he stalling now? Interesting.

“I think they eventually found what they were looking for, and Sononi seems pretty happy these days. She smiles like she is supposed to when she means it a lot now. I found what I was looking for a lot faster than they did, but that’s because I found a teacher. Her manga was what taught me a lot about the human heart and emotions.”

“First Love Hero, right? Your teacher was Kitou Haruka?” He had the grace enough not to acknowledge he had skipped over the third member of Sonoza’s group, taking the omission as hint enough. 

“I’m her chief editor. She gets into slumps a lot, but if you encourage her right, she can overcome them and write the best stories in the world I think.”

Zox finally let himself glance at the book Sonoza had since closed and set down on the table between them, noting the cover was of the fourth volume in the series he had mentioned a couple times now. Zox had given it a read through as far as it went when he had last visited, only to volume 2 if he recalled correctly. It was certainly cliched at points, but in a charming  and endearing way that seemed to be setting up a lot of genuine and fresh character arcs in its cast. He had wanted to pick up anything else out while he was here actually, he didn't think he would have found such a close to the source staff member in this coffee shop of all places. For once, his masochism proved to be something other than a slough through a grating interaction just to get a taste of his home away from home. 

“I don’t come by this world too often, so I haven't read the newer volumes but I enjoyed its beginning premise. The characters were pretty lively and I thought the humor was a bit old school in a charming way.”

Sonoza’s face lit up, not changing much in expression but it felt more open and his rapt attention became as intense as his features almost. He nodded quickly in agreement, reaching out and with practiced ease and almost not even a glance to his hands, he pulled out volume 3 and held it out across the table.

“This is where it picked up once she began publication again after the false charges finally dropped for her plagiarism allegations. She never gave up working on it, and through that time she drew about 4 volumes of it and mass published them across 2 months after her contract with a publisher was reinstated.”

Zox took the book with a nod, but he felt resistance when he tried to pull it out of Sonoza’s grip. He quirked an eyebrow in silent question, and he was met with what was probably the first actual aggressive expression he had gotten. It was more guarded than anything, a stern set of the brows and a slightly exaggerated frown on his lips.

“Borrow, just for here.”

“What do you take me for?”

“You’re a pirate and you take what you want, and you can smile so people give you what you want.” He leaned in a bit closer, making sure he had Zox’s attention. “You can only borrow it.”

Zox chuckled, giving a small salute and nodding, his shoulders relaxing a bit as he was now able to lean back in his seat fully once more with his temporary prize in hand once Sonoza’s grip loosened.

“I was already going to go pick up copies of her new releases anyways, I have no reason to take yours if I'm getting them somewhere else. I'm a pirate, but I'm not a liar.”

And with a satisfied nod of acceptance from the odd man, they both up-took their respective volumes of manga and let themselves lapse into relative quiet for the moment, losing themselves in the story at their fingertips. Relative was the key word, as Zox was quick to find out Sonoza was very deeply and easily moved by this manga in particular it seemed: he laughed raucously as he found certain jokes funny and when he was lost in the emotions and struggles of the characters, he cried openly though not loudly. Zox found it endearing more than annoying for the moment, and by the time they both finished the current volumes they had been working on, “Kaito” had finally come back around front to drop off the original intent of Zox’s visit.

Set down without a word in front of him, Zox smiled despite himself at the many layered dessert. It was a tall glass containing all kinds of pastel colored ice cream and yogurt layered with various creams and syrups, the top barely keeping from spilling over with candies poked into the top wherever they could be balanced, the wafer cookie against the glass’ rim not helping at all with keeping the treat inside its container. He unwrapped the napkin holding his silverware he had let sit to the side of the table, pulling out a spoon and without event he dug into the cold creaminess of the Colourful Parfait. It was the right mix of overwhelming and refreshing as it always was, as he expected it to be. It was the only thing that was right about this place, and he would relish it gladly. He could have choked on how the syrups and yogurt stuck to his mouth, strawberry and caramel mixing with marshmallow consistency and pieces of fruit candy, but with gusto he managed to swallow it down every bite through.

Distracted more than he would normally allow around strangers, Zox hadn’t noticed at first the laser focused stare he was being given across the table until he was halfway down the glass. Sonoza has taken to resting his arms on the table, pillowing his head as he watched Zox eat in silence, his head turned to the side to watch from an odd angle. His expression seemed to soften into something Zox had yet to see on him so far, his mouth closed but jaw slack and his eyes taking an odd light to them Zox wasn't sure he liked. It wasn't pitying, but to say it was without some kind of pitying look wouldn't be right either.

“If you want some, you can always order your own. I have no plans on sharing in the slightest.” He kept his voice playful, practically a singsong by the end but Sonoza’s expression stayed the same.

“You’re the other one the parfait is for…” It was a question as much as a statement, his tone a bit hard to pin down. Zox almost choked, his eyes widening in surprise and alarm as he had to tilt his head back and take a deep breath so he swallowed properly. He coughed reflexively after he did anyways, the sudden air blockage followed by ice cold food in his chest not doing him any favors. He rubbed at his sternum as if it would warm the ache of chill in his body as he looked at Sonoza with a scrutinizing squint, almost a glare.

“Wh-..What is that supposed to mean?”

Sonoza glanced behind him, looking to what could only be “Kaito” for the first time since Zox had gotten there before he heard footsteps shuffle behind them. Zox turned in his seat only to see the flaps of the back area shift as they had presumably just been pushed by someone walking past. He then shifted back, now a bit wary, and fixed an only growing scowl in frustration.

“The owner refuses to serve those to almost everyone except for that guy in purple and now you. Neither of you actually said your orders out loud now that i think about it, he must know they’re for you. The other guy seemed really sad about the place, it wasn't what he expected or something though he was still pretty polite i think.” He paused, gauging Zox’s expression, “Ah, I was on wait-staff that day, I work here too. But yeah, I asked what he wanted and the owner just waved me off saying he would handle that customer. They didn't say much to each other i don't think, but after he ate one of those he just up and left. I'm not sure what he paid instead of money or if it was on the house or what, but he never ended up coming back. Jus’ looked really sad.”

Zox bit the inside of his cheek, trying to place the implications of what he had just been told. Mundanity of Sonoza apparently being a waiter here aside, he zeroed in on the fact that he had been expected here. He had been judged and expected to come here and to be upset by “Kaito” by the man himself and it was always prepared just for him that he would have the one item this place had that reminded him of Colourful? No, not him, there was also…well, there was really only one possibility wasn't there?

‘Stacey came here… he saw that faker and this sham of a replacement and no ya-chan in sight…’

Why would he come to this world of all places? No, that wasn't something he could guess, he wasn't close enough to judge the guy’s motives and it wasn't like they hung out often enough to just ask. They weren’t on bad terms by any means, but they definitely shared friends and spaces more than they shared each other's company with any sort of purpose. There in a pinch if either needed the other and reached out to ask, but not exactly old buddies who would chat over coffee. Though he wouldn't mind playing against him in a few matches of tennis from time to time…No, that was besides the point here!

“You’re sad.”

Zox scowled deeper. “I’m not sad, Sonoza.”

“Upset then.”

He grit his teeth. “I’m not upset.”

“... You lie like Sonoi too.”

Zox let himself break composure outright, leveling a pointed glare and when he spoke he frowned enough for his teeth to almost bare at the man across him.

“And how exactly does Sonoi lie, hm? What are you accusing me of now?”

Sonoza didn't balk in the slightest at the heat, and he didn't look away just as he hasn't since they first met each other's gaze.

“He says he doesn’t miss Momoi Taro and then he tells us not to come with him when he goes to their favorite Oden cart. He says he isn't lonely and won't bother Momoi Taro in his new life, but then he follows him around town on his deliveries until he goes home at night. He says that he doesn't recall what Momoi Taro’s last request was, but then he runs through our lunch with Momoi Taro over and over like a script when he thinks nobody can hear him pacing on the roof and saying it.”

Zox found his mouth absurdly dry despite having just had creamy semi-melted sweets in it only minutes ago. He wasn't even being spoken about but he felt all but mortified in front of a man he met no more than an hour and some ago. 

“Is the person you and that other guy came here looking for still around?”

Zox nodded stiffly, pausing to rest his lower face into his hand as his gaze fell to the table between them.

“We were…our people are different people, but we met them both in a place that used to be here just…in another world. My… person looks and sounds just like your manager here, except mine is much brighter. Always smiling and cheering and constantly trying to help people, even when people don't want him to. He’s away adventuring the worlds with some of his other friends right now, has been for a few years on and off now. We meet up from time to time, but it’s a bit hard to keep up with him since he doesn't have a ship I can track or anything.” 

He sighed wistfully, letting his weight sink more onto the hand holding his face.

“The other guy who was here? His person is my person’s grandma, she’s..she’s really something too. I see where Kaito gets it from, she’s helping everyone in her own way. Told the guy he could always rest when she was around, offered him a place to live and all the old lady hugs and sweets he could want, the grandma works haha. He declined, but he always shows up at some point or other at her place with one of those parfaits they got here, they’re his favorite I think. I think if I wasn't as comfortable as I was, she would have tried to get me too maybe, now that I think about it. She’s an old thing, but she’s strong. I think though maybe…well…I think he doesn't wanna see her get any older, see her not be so strong. Guy doesn’t really have anyone else aside from our people, so…”

He lapsed into silence, unsure if he even had any steam to keep going. What was he doing, practically confessing his personal matters and Stacey’s too to this person he met today. Then again, maybe that’s why, a different world and a new person with an odd perceptiveness that his usual attitude didn't deter. Maybe that’s exactly why he said it, like a note he could write and leave somewhere out of sight in this world he rarely visited with a stranger he might not see again.

“That’s good, that your person is just traveling. It means you can still smile like you’re supposed to.”

As if to show what he meant, he turned his head upright now, snaking his arms out from under his head to let his chin drop to the table. Then, with his eyes looking up to meet Zox’s, he used his pointer fingers to force the corners of his mouth into a weak mimicry of a smile before smiling in earnest like earlier a moment after. Zox chuckled, miffed at this stranger who kicked chairs and snarled over shoujo manga and who drank cold coffee while saying he was lonely. He could have waved this whole thing off, leaning into a faux suave attitude or pulling attention to something more fun and interesting, less personal, but Sonoza had been direct and honest, painfully so, this entire time. Zox decided he would repay it, treat it as a debt in this case, and humored him. 

He sighed dramatically and after a moment’s hesitation, he rolled his eyes before using his own pointer fingers to push at his own mouth, his fingertips slotting into place where his dimples poked inwards. He blinked in surprise, pulling his fingers away to stare at them in an exaggerated awe.

“Huh….I do have some…”

Sonoza looked like he could have shot across the table and was trying comically hard not to when he slammed his hands palms down onto his thighs to accentuate his next exclamation.

“I told you!”

He sounded like a little kid who had won some kind of argument, which only made Zox ease into laughter at the comparison between the image he had now of Sonoza versus when he first noticed him. He was glad in the end, that he had decided on a whim to find some company in the usually quiet and sterile coffee shop. As his laughter threatened to die down, he was struck anew with a much harder laughing fit now brought on by his table-mate in question; Sonoza had, after a moment of intense staring, decided to join him it seemed like a choice and not an involuntary reaction, and he raucously loud and gritty pushed a yell of a laugh past sharp teeth and plump lips.

“WAHAHA!”

He sounded maniacal almost if you didn't know he learned to laugh through repetition and not natural ability, but knowing he did and with all his boasting earlier, it had broken Zox down into a fit of cackling. He held his stomach, faintly worried he would get sick from laughing so hard with cold sweets on his stomach and nothing else. But he couldn't stop, and he didn't try to either and just enjoyed the burning in his gut and the prickling at his eyes. Yes, he was glad he had decided to play chance on a whim here indeed, for he had certainly found a treasure in this place after all.

[shoutogepi]

Red Roses

Kirishima Eijirou

word count : 7.5k

[ ✘ (nsfw!), flowershop!au ]  

themes : haaaa where to begin… almost dubcon?? (BEWARE!), dom!kiri, size kink!kiri, light spanking, tinyyy bit of ass play, little use of “Sir”

bio : Kirishima decides to educate you on the alternative meaning behind a red rose.

author’s note : this fic was meant to be for the @bnhabookclub​ provisional licensing exam event using their flowershop!au, but alas... i am a lazy procrastinator. anyway you should check them out!! i’ve absolutely loved being a part of something so great. also thanks to all who helped me with this fic <3 buuut special thanks to @lady-bakuhoe​​ for beta reading <3

tagging: @queensynderella @marilla-eldriana @1-800-callmekatsuki​ @hisoknen 

also available on AO3 here

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🅃he bell tinkles overhead as you step into the quaint store, palm clammy against the metal doorknob and chest tight with apprehension.

“Y/N! Thank god for you,” your friend exclaims from behind the register, sliding over the counter with ease. She shoves the apron she’s holding into your hands before attempting to throw her hair into a messy bun. “I cannot believe my sitter cancelled on me this last minute— my husband has to be out of the house in ten minutes!”

You smile at her gratefulness, but your eyes are not on her. The curtains on the back room part and out steps the store owner, red eyes landing on you. “Y/N,” he greets you, the timbre of his voice low and cool. You nod and smile hesitantly toward him, shifting your attention back to your friend even though you can feel his gaze raking over your body.

Yuki wags a disapproving finger toward the man behind the counter, “Kiri, you better take good care of her!” She commands with a playful yet firm tone, body already halfway through the door you��d just come in through.

Your entire being screams out for you to beg her to stay, but you hold your tongue as you recall it was you who said you’d cover her shift. She already seems to have had the stress lifted from her shoulders at your arrival, and you can’t bear to back out after coming all the way here.

Looking back toward the source of your stress, you can’t help but admire him. Scarlet locks hang down around his face, majority pulled back into a sleek, short ponytail to give you a better view of his handsome face— jawline sharp as his teeth and the scar on his forehead slicing through his brow. He’s tall; well over six foot with rippling muscles adorning his long, tan arms. He’s wearing a crisp, white button down rolled up to the elbows, black and red ink poking out of the hem and trailing down his forearms. The store’s pine green apron is pulled snug around his figure, accentuating his broad chest and narrow hips. You already know his ass looks incredible, even though it’s hidden by the plastic countertop. He’s a five course meal on legs, for Christ’s sake, but you know better than to get ideas— he’s a player.

“Of course,” Kirishima replies across the store after her retreating form. His eyes drift over to you, catching your stare. “I’ll take great care of her.”

The door closes, sealing you to your fate with the red beast of a man. For a moment you just stand there, frozen as your mind runs through a thousand thoughts. Before he can comment about your blatant staring, you rip your eyes away from his, throwing the neck of the apron above your head. Tugging the tie around the back of your waist, your fingers fumble with the thick material as you turn to face him again. “So what should I work on?”

He seems amused at your question, even though it’s extremely valid. Not even bothering to hide the generous once-over he gives you when you've finally tightened the bow behind your back, he takes his time to answer you. “Yuki usually does the ordering for next week’s shipments tonight, but I’ll do that. You can put together some bouquets— I’ll give you one to follow off of.”

You’re honestly surprised that he’s giving you real work to do, but then again, you are covering a shift after all. Kirishima shows you the corner behind the counter designated for bouquet assembly, and he helps you make the first bouquet before he slips away behind the curtains of the back room once again, leaving you alone in the store.

He’d picked a simple bouquet for you to reproduce; a dozen red roses with a few sprigs of baby’s breath and a touch of greenery. The work is pleasantly methodic to complete, and by the time the sky is dark, a small sense of pride blooms in your chest at the pile of bouquets you’d managed to complete. It’s five minutes to close, and not a single customer has come into the store in the last hour. You’re snipping the ends off of the last branch of baby’s breath when you hear the rustle of the curtains behind you.

Immediately the atmosphere of the room changes. The once warm and light mood that filled the shop dissipates, replaced with a heavy, silent tension that causes trepidation to ooze into your veins.

“These look pretty good, Y/N,” Kirishima speaks from behind you, thick fingers moving over the packages of cellophane in a slow, analytical sweep. You roll your eyes, wondering if he’d thought you’d do a shit job or something.

You open your mouth to give him a curt thanks, but your voice dies in your throat as you feel his presence a hair’s breadth from your backside. The heat that rolls off of him licks at your skin through your clothes, your hands fixed midair.

“Though this one’s a little off,” he murmurs, breath washing over the shell of your ear. His hands come into your field of vision, arms absurdly thick and just generally large in comparison to you. His hands are just as big, dwarfing yours as he plucks the dainty flower from your stiff fingers.

The tattoos that peek out from the cuff of his sleeves hold a certain gravity that captures your stare. You watch him tuck the stem among the bouquet in your peripheral, placing it in precisely the perfect location to make the ensemble flawless.

Your stomach lurches when his chest brushes against your shoulders, fingers turning in on themselves to form to meager fists that you place atop the counter. “There,” he whispers, and you can feel just how close his lips are to touching your ear.

His voice does something to you; up close like this it sounds almost akin to how a tiger’s purr rumbles through its whole body. Except it’s your body that it thunders through, an unwanted heat beginning to form between your thighs. You shift your legs slightly, bringing your feet closer together in an attempt to mitigate the sensation.

You nearly gasp when he pulls away, eyelids fluttering shut in relief.

“You’re actually pretty good at this,” he comments, returning to the pile of bouquets that rest along the countertop. He starts to tuck them into his arms, red gaze flickering to gauge your expression. There’s a knowing gleam in his eyes, and you try your best not to allow heat to flood into your cheeks. But he doesn’t push it any further, turning and walking around the counter to crouch in front of one of the fridges that line the wall. You find yourself wishing for the cool air to wash over your own face, and you grab a few bouquets before making your way over to him.

You kneel down next to him, slightly annoyed that even sitting down he’s still at least a head taller than you. Stupid proportional man. You open the door and prop it open against your hip, leaning in to place the fresh bouquets inside an empty bucket, following Kirishima’s lead.

Kirishima watches you from the corner of his eye for a moment. “Thank you,” he says as he continues to fill the buckets in front of him, “for filling in for Yuki, I mean. The shop doesn’t look too busy but it needs two people to keep it up and running, so… I appreciate you coming in.”

His words are unexpected, and they bring a fresh wave of heat to your cheeks. You’d never seen the playboy be so openly appreciative before, although honestly you’ve only seen the fuckboy side of him— the one that eyes you down, and blatantly flirts with you when you come to visit your friend during her shifts. “Of course, Kiri,” you reply automatically. The burning in your cheeks only intensifies when you realize you’ve addressed him so informally, but when you turn to apologize to him, you find he’s much too close for comfort. He’s leaned in, taking you by surprise as the scent of his deep, savory cologne wafts into your face. Those carmine eyes piece into yours, making your stomach fill with butterflies, flapping round your stomach in a concoction of nerves and— you hate to admit it— hunger.

“You’ve done such good work today, Y/N,” he nearly whispers, and you watch as his full lips part to utter the words, sharp fangs glinting at you. Before you lose yourself to the moment, he stands, mollifying the intensity and severing you from the invisible string that pulls your gaze to his. You hesitantly take the hand he reaches out to you, trying not to think about how truly huge it is compared to yours. He pulls you up effortlessly, and you still as his other hand comes to touch the back of your waist when you all but collide into his chest. “Sorry,” he says but you wouldn’t deem his tone apologetic, “you’re so dainty, y’know— like a flower.”

You turn on your heel to face the other direction, hoping he doesn’t notice how much his comment affects you; you’re sure you look like a bird with fluffed, ruffled feathers— you certainly feel that way at least. You let out an awkward laugh as you take a hasty step toward the register, your body wanting nothing more than to rid itself of this infuriatingly delicious heat that Kirishima’s words create underneath your skin, licking and crawling along your bones. Finding yourself safely harbored behind the counter once again, your eyes fall to the nearly-completed bouquet you were just wrapping up when Kirishima exited the back room. Your fingers reach for a sprig of greenery, flat wide leaves fanning out in an elegant manner that could only accentuate the beauty and simplicity of the red bouquet.

But your sense of security is proven false, for Kirishima’s deep, demanding voice trickles like honey into your ears. “Red roses are accepted as the symbol of love all around the world,” he pauses for dramatic effect, and you hate to admit you’re left teetering on the edge of your metaphorical seat waiting for his next words, “but true florists know they convey another meaning.”

By the clarity of his diction you can tell he’s standing not far behind you, probably a step or two away. You can feel your heart rate spike again, your breath catching as you wonder what his next move will be. “And what’s that?” You reply dryly but it comes out more like a breathless whisper.

His thick forearms intrude your vision and settle on either side of your figure, leaving just a touch of space from your flesh. Your nearly shaking fingers drop the twig of leaves when he reaches between your hands, plucking a single thorny stem from the assembly before you and holding the soft, velvety petals to the tip of your nose. He doesn’t have to say the words for you to know to take a sniff of the blossom, and you inhale as much as your lungs will take before he answers your question, breath hot against the shell of your ear.

“Desire.”

Your body freezes completely, too shocked to even draw in a breath of air, when his pointy teeth graze the very tip of your ear. Jaw hanging at his sheer impudence, you’re still as a statue when he moves the soft swell of the bloom across your far cheek, soft petals trailing along your fiery skin. The action tickles slightly, causing your head to turn toward his face that hangs down above your shoulder.

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart,” he coos, and again there’s that rumble in his voice that resonates through your frame. He drops the flower, not caring to even spare a glance as it falls from his fingertips. The digits move to cup your chin, middle finger pushing the corner of your jaw to swing your face directly in front of his. Simmering red eyes stare deep into yours, flickering toward your lips briefly before he decides he no longer wants to drag this out.

You’re horrified to moan so unabashedly when his lips press against yours in a vicious siege, dominating them and claiming them as his. His kiss is rough, as if he can’t hold himself back from his beast-like passion, yet it’s much more meaningful and encaptivating than you’d imagined it would be. His arm slithers around your hips to place his hand atop your ribs. Your eyes widen at his undisguised motive, and you open your mouth to call him out— but before you can pull away to tell him to stop, his tongue slips between your lips. Knees wobbly at the sudden intrusion, your tongue begins to move with his, stroking, and swirling, and tangling into one sexy, sloppy mess. His hand slips from its place on your ribs, drifting underneath the side of your apron and cupping your entire breast— not much of a challenge for his large palm.

Kirishima moans into your mouth at your acceptance, and you can only croak out a small whimper of reciprocation. His hand is hot through the nearly sheer fabric of your blouse, and the bra does not do much to block his calloused hands from your chest. His other hand continues to grip your jaw, just hard enough so you’d have to struggle to pull away from him. That is, if you were ever to want to pull away from him.

Your hands are still frozen in front of you, unsure what exactly to do in this situation. Mind completely exhausted of all higher levels of thought, the only emotions you can recognize are lust and satisfaction. Actually, your brain is so hazy with these feelings that you don’t even complain when he starts to undo the tie at the back of your apron. His teeth drag across your bottom lip, the sharp edges not quite pressed hard enough to cut you, but for some reason it brings an unexpected thrill. Pulling away from your mouth, Kirishima’s lips meander across your jaw, his hand tilting your head up so he can continue his journey to your throat. He sucks on the tender flesh there, inhaling your sweet and clean scent as his tongue washes against your skin. You gasp at his brazen action, ass pushing against his hips to discover something long and thick there. Teeth prick into your flesh just a touch too hard, but he’s let go of you after only a minute, and he traces over the small wounds with careful licks.  

“Do you,” you suck in short breath when he squeezes your breast, your words faltering, “Do you do this with all your employees?” You taunt, but Kirishima can recognize the doubt in your tone. It’s hidden under false scorn, but your question is pure and filled with true intent. 

He pauses his treatment on your neck for a spell, and when he speaks, the wet skin on your throat feels cold as his breath falls upon it. “Of course not,” he purrs, raising his head to take your earlobe between his teeth, pulling away and sending a fresh wave of shivers down your spine. Your body jolts at the stimulation, and your bottom brushes against his crotch again. This time, his hand moves from your breast to wrap around your waist, securing you in place. He presses his concealed cock against the swell of your ass, and you bite your lip at the sheer size of him. Leaning in, he places a long stripe on the side of your ear with his hot tongue, and you can hear the teasing dripping from his voice. “Only with the pretty ones who beg for it.”

Kirishima’s hips rut against your ass, and he holds you in place so that the gentle grind he offers is felt in full effect. You nearly moan at the feeling of his hot length rubbing against you, your pussy starting to leak onto your panties. Of course you know he’s been around, but he’s so sexy— and he’s got to be good at what he does with all that experience.

He pauses, angling your face to still in front of his again. There’s a mischievous twinkle in his eye, and a pleased smirk pulling up one corner of his mouth. He turns your face away again, and your eyes fall shut as his nose scrapes along your cheek. “Yuki says to stay away from you,” he grumbles, lips pressing against your cheek as he speaks, a groan slipping from his parted lips as he rolls his hips into yours particularly hard. Your bottom lip is held prisoner between your teeth in a desperate attempt to hold in the moan that craves to be set free. “Says a good girl like you is too good for me to be messin’ around with.��� His words convey a dash of irritation, and you’re caught off-guard at the seasoning of disdain.

You wonder when she’d told him that— when they’d talked about you— but Kirishima does not allow you another moment to ponder it. He kisses you again, and all thoughts are cleansed from your brain as his lips seize yours. The hand on your chin drops and you gasp as it lands on the hem of your skirt, curling around you so his hot palm rests on your inner thigh, just a short distance from your soaked panties. Your feet move to draw your legs together, and your quivering thighs rub against his hand as you struggle to make your body move to your will. Pulling back to fill your lungs with fresh air, you mumble against his lips, “Kirishima, that’s—”

“But I know you’re not all that innocent,” he continues, fingertips brushing over the saturated lace. He groans as he traces along your slit, delighted to find you’re more than aroused from all his touching and teasing. Your cheeks feel impossibly hot, and you let out a soft whimper as he grazes over your clit a few times, your head falling back against his broad chest. Kirishima takes in your lustful expression, and the way your eyelashes flutter at him makes his cock twitch in his pants. “You’re so wet, sweetheart— fuck, you’re a naughty little thing. Y’want this, huh?”

Even though you only give him the slightest nod, he seems to accept your response, for his grip around your waist tightens considerably, pulling you flush against him. His hips buck against yours and you moan aloud when the clothed tip of his cock rubs against your panties through your skirt. You can’t even react when he spins you around, your head feeling fuzzy and laden with desire. He grabs your hips, easily placing you on the edge of the countertop before his fingers move to rip off your apron, then coming to undo the buttons at the front of your blouse. “The— The store,” you pant, eyes darting toward the door that currently sports the ‘open’ side of the sign. You swallow thickly when Kirishima falls to his knees, landing at the perfect height for him to put his head between your thighs.

His hands move to snag the hips of your panties, and you nearly whine in embarrassment when he slides the item down your legs, a thick string of your lust connecting the material to your pussy before it severs. Kirishima only moans in awe, pride oozing into his system as he takes in how drenched you are for him. He shoves the soiled lace into his pocket, and you whine at the action, about to complain but he cuts you off. “Don’t worry, Princess. No one’s gonna bother us,” he breathes out as he comes closer to your weeping core, your slick trickling down your ass cheek to drip onto the countertop.

White hot mortification bursts through you as he takes a long whiff of your pussy, and you squirm to move backwards but rough hands trap your thighs open, dragging your ass to hang halfway off the edge. He smirks as he looks up at you, examining your flustered expression.

“You ‘dunno how long I’ve wanted to have a taste of this sweet little pussy,” he growls, and your hands fly to the end of the counter to steady yourself, grasping onto it tightly. He chuckles when your cunt twitches before him at his words, his hands spreading your thighs apart into an obtuse angle, moving forward to drag his nose along your slick folds. You whimper at the contact, clenching around nothing as he teases you, your mouth falling open to suck in ragged breaths of air. His tongue darts out just slightly, and he runs the tip along your slit, separating your folds and savoring how your thighs shake underneath his grasp. “Mmmm,” he moans, sending tiny vibrations echoing through your sopping cunt, “good girls always taste the best.”

You can’t bear to look at him any longer, and you move your hand to place your curled knuckle between your teeth as his tongue creeps out, the flat muscle petting over your entrance slowly. His teeth graze your clit and you whine at the stimulation, the smooth enamel sliding across your bundle of nerves easily. His tongue is slow and playful, stroking you and avoiding where he knows you want him most.

Kirishima nuzzles into your cunt, rubbing your clit again with a lewd snarl pulling up his lips. “Look at me,” he commands and you follow his direction instantly, eyes blown wide with lust and tongue pressed tight against your knuckle. He groans at the sight, and you only shift your hips in his grasp to try to get closer to his mouth. Those scarlet eyes find yours once again, and you struggle to hold his gaze as his lips wrap around your clit, sucking it in and rolling his tongue over it. He moves the muscle hard against you, just fast enough to have you moaning out, your hand flying from your mouth to grasp the top of his crimson hair. Pulling away briefly, he blows a small huff of air across your heat, shit-eating grin splitting to gloat. “Doesn’t that feel good, sweetheart? Be a good girl and keep those pretty eyes on me.”

Your lips waver as they press into a firm line, your thighs straining to close at the intensity when he sucks your clit into his mouth again. But his massive hands hold your legs apart without any effort, and he lashes his tongue against you without mercy. There is nothing more you want other than to throw your head back and close your eyes, jaw hanging open and heated pants drifting out, but you force your gaze to remain on the man between your legs. Your fingernails scrape against his scalp as you try to find some way to channel the pleasure he introduces to your body, but the action only seems to spur him on. One hand leaves your thigh only for his other arm to wrap right around your ass, and your hips buck helplessly against his face when a fingertip prods your slicked entrance.

Kirishima does not ask for permission, and you suck in a silent gasp as his finger spreads your pussy, shock and pleasure shooting through your limbs at the stretch just one finger provides. “You seem a little quiet, sweetheart. Wanna hear that sweet voice of yours again,” he growls against your pussy, tongue flicking down to trail along the edges of his finger lodged deep inside of you.

You can only whimper as he glides the digit out, pushing it back inside slowly and nearly making your eyes roll back in your skull. His finger is already so long and thick— god, if you had fingers like that you could probably make yourself cum in—

A shriek of bliss rips from your lungs as he thrusts his finger into you, curling toward himself and rubbing some place your fingers have never reached. There’s a cocky grin on his face, and you hate to admit he looks so good looking up at you like that from between your legs, but you can’t bring yourself to form any words. “That was cute,” he chuckles, jagged teeth nipping gently at your pearl again and forcing your entire body twitch against him. He makes sure to capture your full attention before he finishes his thought, the corners of his lip curling with something darker. “Is that the best you’ve got? I think you can do better.”

He’s anything but gentle, the heel of his palm rubbing against your folds as he fucks his finger into you at a rapid pace. You’re seeing stars flash before your eyes, the sliver of sanity you were so desperately clinging to ripped from your grasp. You cry out when his mouth returns to your clit, sucking, and flicking, and slurping. Your eyes just won’t stay open, jaw losing the opposite battle as it hangs ajar, broken and unrestrained moans tumbling out like a burst dam.

Kirishima seems satisfied with your reaction, and he begins to groan against your cunt. You’re dripping with enough slick to coat the entire lower half of his face, and the vibrations from his throat only reverberate through your pussy, making you sharply tug on his hair.

“K-Kirishima,” you pant, a plea about to leave your lips. You’re not sure if you want to beg him to stop, or to give you even more. But Kirishima makes that decision for you.

A strained gasp slices though you when his finger slides out of you, only to be pressed against another digit and shoved into you. The unexpected addition causes you to yelp, a strained moan purring out of you as he allows a few slow strokes for you to adjust. Jesus, having two of his fingers in you feels like you’re being stuffed already— a fleeting pang of fear shooting through you as you wonder what his cock will feel like. But you’re not allowed to ponder the thought, his fingers picking up the pace and curling against that spongy spot again.

Body squirming with bliss, your hips thrash in his hold, switching between scooting back and forth, rocking yourself against his mouth. Kirishima can feel your cunt begin to tighten snug round his thick fingers, your walls fluttering and pulsing at his rough but generous stimulation. “Gonna cum? Bet you make sucha pretty face when you cum, come on sweetheart,” he murmurs, slick lips kissing along the top of your pussy, across your clit. You would’ve cum already if he just kept that sly mouth of his on your clit, and you don’t expect his next words to affect you so much as you cum all over his hand. “Sooner you cum, sooner I can split you open with this cock. You want that, right? Wanna have me fuck that tight little cunt— y’wanna be my good girl, huh?”

Kirishima holds your hips close, arm tightening around your bottom as your body spasms with your orgasm, euphoria zipping through your entirety. The broken moan that rings out into the room makes his cock pulse in his pants, trousers feeling suddenly much too snug for his liking. Your head is thrown back in ecstasy, thighs quivering atop the counter and toes curled in your sneakers.

Finally he allows you a moment to breathe, fingers slipping out of your pussy and standing before you. His arm slides up with him, snagging around your waist to lay his palm flat against your shoulder blade and hold you upright. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he smirks as your eyes finally open, only to catch him tracing his tongue along the fingers that just brought you to heaven’s gates.

Your palms land on the broad expanse of his chest, fingers curling around straps of his apron. He laughs as you whine gently, ducking down a considerable distance and allowing you to slip the loop over his head. You undo his shirt as your lips collide, this time in a sloppy and desperate kiss. His tongue rolls over yours in your mouth as he tugs your bra to rest on top of your chest, your breasts spilling out into his eager palm. He thumbs over your nipples and growls against your mouth, and you whimper and allow your fingers to spread across the flesh of his chest. When you open your eyes, you notice a black and red dragon carved into the top of his pec, dipping halfway down from his collar bone and curling around his shoulder down the length of his arm.

Shirts thrown to the floor in crumpled heaps, you trail your fingers down his hard six pack, thumb combing through a neat trail of black above the button of his jeans. Digits running down to cup his hard length, you look at him with wanton eyes and groan. “Wanna taste you, Kiri.”

Kirishima clicks his tongue in his mouth, a beefy hand wrapping around your wrist entirely and steering your hand to rest on the bulge on his thigh. Your eyes widen almost comically, your throat drying and pussy tightening with a cocktail of apprehension and excitement. He leans down to run his tongue along the column of your throat before he pulls back with a brief nibble to your jaw, locking eyes with you. “I don’t think a sweet girl like you can handle taking me in your mouth.”

His fingers move to undo the button on his jeans, the suspense thick in the air as you watch in awe. He tugs the jeans to rest beneath his ass, the bulge in his black boxer-briefs already indicating you might be in for more than you can handle. You try not to let your jaw drop when his cock springs free, swollen tip glazed with a sheen of pre and pulsing veins decorating the entire shaft. Hand around the base of his cock, you whimper as it only covers half his length— his fist is already considerably bigger than yours and suddenly you’re in fear for your pussy.

Kirishima laughs at your expression, pressing a quick kiss to your lips and smoothing the hair from your forehead. “Don’t worry Princess,” he murmurs, arm around your waist again to push your hips to the very edge of the countertop. Your pussy twitches when the head of his cock brushes your folds, and you find yourself wondering if you’re about to be in a world of pain or pleasure. Probably both. “I’m gonna make you feel so good,” he promises, nuzzling his face into your neck and pressing gentle, wet kisses there.

“I don’t— I don’t think it’s gonna fit,” you croak out, arms hesitantly wrapping around his neck. Yet your legs spread on their own accord, inching forward so his cock rubs against your opening.

Kirishima purrs at the action, licking his lips against your throat. “We’ll make it fit, sweetheart.” He brings his hand up to his mouth and spits into it, the crude noise making you flinch and wrinkle your nose in disgust. But it doesn’t last for long— any conscious thought leaves your brain when you glance down, seeing him stroke the top half of his cock with his slick hand. Biting your lip, you close your eyes and pull him closer, trying to prepare yourself for whatever is about to come.

Thankfully his movements are slow as he pushes into your wet cunt, and you’re surprised how easily his length slides into you. The stretch is unreal— unlike anything you’ve ever felt before— and it takes all your willpower not to clench around him for you know that will just cause you further discomfort. He only enters you halfway, grip tight on your waist as if he’s having a hard time controlling himself. Sighing against the flushed skin of your neck, he moves to kiss you again, lips tender and careful.

You whimper when he gives a tentative thrust, your nails clawing into the muscles lining the top of his shoulder. His cock is so thick, and knowing it’s only halfway inside you has your stomach twisting in terror. He’s goddamn huge. It takes a few more gentle thrusts for your grip on him to loosen, and your body relaxes slightly in his arms.

Kirishima clearly has enough experience with this, because the pace he sets is perfect. His hands slide all over your body, cupping and squeezing every inch of flesh he can find. Hips rock into yours at a slow, benevolent pace, your pussy stretched wide around him and fluttering as his thick veins drag along your velvet walls. Lips finding yours again, his tongue and pointed teeth distract you as with each thrust his cock shifts a tiny bit deeper inside of you.

At some point you start to moan, head falling back and mouth open wide as long, unadulterated sounds float out from the bottom of your lungs. Kirishima’s pace hastens, hands landing on your hips and thrusting into you swiftly. His cock is making your head spin, brain full of fog as your heart hammers in your ribs. He swears as his rough hand claps atop your ass cheek, taking note of the way your pussy shivers around him and a sharp squeak is summoned from your lips. “God you’re fuckin’ tight sweetheart— fuck, you a virgin?” He moans, fingers biting into the reddened skin on your ass. When you shake your head at him, he questions how on earth it is possible for you to be this snug around him, but he makes sure to thank whatever deity there is for it.

You cry out when his thumb greets your clit, and he fights to maintain his measured pace at the way your cunt squeezes so tightly. Your slick is dripping onto the countertop, his cock buried deep in your core, again and again. His added stimulation to your clit has you gasping for breath, a coil in your stomach filling with pressure. “Ohgodohgodohgodohgod Kiri please don’t stoppp,” you beg, pupils drifting up into your skull and your hands flying all over his torso, grabbing whatever skin you can reach.

Kirishima groans, palm pushing your tailbone forward so your hips bump against his. You scream at the full intensity of his cock inside of you; every inch and every vein setting fire to your insides, his thumb relentless on your clit. Your vision turns white as you reach your peak, your body seizing in ecstasy. Pulling him close, you wheeze for breath against his chest, his thumb never stilling its movement on your clit until you grab his wrist and rip him off of you, overwhelmed with the bliss from your orgasm rippling through every bone in your body. He’s still moving inside of you— albeit at a snail's pace— but it’s enough for him to prolong the pleasure simmering in your veins.

Finally you collapse into his chest, mind numb and eyelids too heavy to keep open, your lips pressing clumsy kisses into his skin. A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest, his fingers carding through your tresses. “Now, that was cute, Princess,” he says, the amusement in his tone laced with something darker. His fingers curl in your hair, pulling your neck back so your head tilts up to meet his sinister gaze. “But you didn’t get permission to cum, did you?”

Your heart begins to race, your stomach plummeting as he holds your gaze without vigilance. You whine as he pulls out of you, your cunt never feeling this empty before as his hot length disappears. Kirishima picks you up without effort, biceps swelling with intricate swirls of charcoal ink. He places you on wobbling feet before spinning you around, your hands flying out to grab the counter as he shoves your shoulder down.

“That makes you a bad girl, Y/N.”

Horror streaks through your every limb, and yet, only a sinful moan wanders out of you, your feet moving apart and thighs spreading for him to fit between. You crane your head to look at him, drinking up the beautiful man behind you. Broad shoulders trail into a broad, thick chest, tapering down to a tight and powerful waist. Each muscle on his body is prominent and enticing, covered snugly with tan skin that glimmers with a sheen of sweat. His red hair hangs to frame his handsome face, mostly still tugged back into his low ponytail.

As if reading your mind, he moves a hand back and snags the tie off, vibrant locks of scarlet licking the tops of his shoulders. Running a hand over his forehead, he looks at you with a predatory gaze, a smirk curling up one side of his lips. “Y’know what happens to bad girls, right?” You bite your lip and shake your head, egging him on as the top of his cock traces around your opening. “Bad girls get punished.”

The loudest scream of the night rips through you as he thrusts into you without warning, his cock hitting all different kinds of places than before in this new position. Kirishima doesn’t allow you a moment to adjust; he starts slapping his hips against your ass roughly, fist gripping the hair near your scalp again and pulling it tight so your back arches. You cannot breathe, or speak, or think— but somehow his name slips out of your mouth between all the moans.

A harsh slap across your ass sounds, the sting causing your pussy to quiver around his length. “Bad girls don’t get to use my name,” he growls into your ear, leaning over your body to take the tip of your ear between his teeth.

Your eyes are crossed in pleasure, your expression probably comforted into the most lewd, carnal face you’ve ever made. His cock is too big, and you know you won’t be able to walk right tomorrow, but maybe that adds to why it feels so fucking good right now.

“You’re makin’ this seem like a reward, not a punishment, Princess. You like taking it rough, huh?” He teases, pulling your head back by your hair and eliciting another moan from you. “Answer me.”

His cock pounds into your cunt, the sheer stretch enough to make you cum, let alone the length. Your lungs begin to shake as you feel your orgasm building again between your legs. “Yes Sir!” You yelp when his palm cracks against your ass again, your knees wobbly and the pressure continuing to build.

Your reply makes his cock twitch inside of you, and Kirishima sucks in a cool breath of air between clenched teeth. His hand grips the bottom of your thigh, and you cry out when he hikes your knee onto the countertop, cock drilling into you even deeper than before.

Your pussy twitches as you cum instantly, a drawn-out moan vibrating through your throat. Fingernails scraping along the countertop in your gaze of euphoria, Kirishima is forced to halt his assault on your cunt as it squeezes him tightly, his teeth piercing into his lip in pleasure. But as soon as your cunt loosens, he’s fucking into you with renewed vigor, your hips knocking into the counter as he plunges his massive cock into your sloppy heat. “You just don’t fuckin’ learn,” he snarls, wrist twisting to pull your hair tighter, bending your spine to his will.

“I’m sorry Sir,” you choke out, tears beginning to trickle down your cheeks. Each thrust brushes your cervix and it hurts, but at the same time the intensity of it all feels incredible. “I didn’t know I could… could cum so q-quick! Please, Sir— ah!— Please forgive me!”

Kirishima tosses his head back at your admission, your apology immediately accepted. His hand slips from your hair to your throat, turning your head so he can see your face as he pounds into you without mercy. The tears slipping down your cheeks make your eyes sparkle and he groans, his own end in near reach and only approaching quicker at the sight of you. “Y’look so pretty when you cry, sweetheart— shit, I know you have one more for me,” he leans in and pokes his tongue out to collect a salty tear, kissing the wet skin on your cheek. His thumb on your throat wanders to your lips, and you take the digit into your mouth with enthusiasm, keeping your eyes locked with his.

You whimper around his finger when his other hand comes around to circle your puffy clit, already overstimulated and thighs shaking. Your legs try to close but he keeps them spread apart, cock still ramming into you as his lips trail down to your neck. His hand on your throat loosens and comes to rest on your ass, pulling your cheeks apart and tracing his slippery thumb over your puckered hole. Your eyes widen with shock, and you force your voice to work even though it comes out scratchy and breathless. “W-What are you— Kiri wait, that’s—”

“Have you ever had anything in here, Princess?” He inquires as his thumb slips into you, making you shriek at the fiery stretch. Pushing the digit into your ass, he moans at the sight of you sucking in his thumb so obediently, your hole trembling and squeezing round his finger.

You shake your head, at a loss for words once again. You can feel his cock rub against his finger through your walls, and though it’s a foreign, unfamiliar sensation, it’s far from unwelcome. More tears of pure pleasure descend from your lashes, the combination of all his stimulation driving you insane. You can feel your climax building with every thrust, your walls dragging along his cock and his finger, his other hand rolling your clit.

“C’mon, baby. Cum for me, it’s alright,” he purrs, balls feeling tight with his near release. His fingers pinch and rub all over your slick clit, and you mewl out as that familiar pressure heightens in your stomach. “You’re a good girl, aren’t you? Show me how good you are, sweetheart.”

He doesn’t allow you a second to think, and you whine out for him when his hips crash against your ass, shoving his entire cock inside your soaked hole and spreading your aching walls. The spot he’s hitting with the head of his cock causes your eyes to cross— you didn’t even know it existed before now— and suddenly everything is too much, and you’re crying out his name as your orgasm tears through you.

Kirishima gives a few more hard thrusts before he’s there too, the tips of his teeth piercing into your neck as he floods your pussy with his heavy load. Your cunt pulses around him, milking out every drop he has to offer as you’re thrown into waves of complete euphoria. Eyes closed, toes and fingers coiled tight in pleasure, you whimper as he gives your clit a few more rubs before his hand moves up to push his hair back. “Good girl,” he praises, hot palms sliding along your curves and rubbing circles into your skin.

You’re totally spent; body limp atop the countertop, nipples hard and hot against the cool plastic, tears drying on your cheeks, ass feeling warm and fuzzy, and pussy trembling with the aftershocks of your climax. Kirishima is careful when he pulls out, and you can’t even find the energy to make a noise of complaint at the emptiness between your legs. You can feel his release begin to dribble out of your abused hole, and your body twitches when he presses his thumb in to shove his seed back inside.

He sighs as he grabs a paper towel from the sink behind him, dragging it along his weeping, yet still impressive, length. As you’re still catching your breath, he walks around the counter and into your field of vision, tucking himself back into his pants nonchalantly. When he reaches the door, he flips the ‘open’ sign over to ‘closed’ before sauntering over to you, eyes trained on yours. “Well, sweetheart,” he chuckles, gaze raking over your exhausted form, still collapsed on top of the counter in a sedated-like state. He reaches forward, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear as he smiles brightly, but a shadow of something more ominous lingers in those scarlet eyes. “You’re gonna have to cover Yuki’s shifts more often.”

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

.

.

soooo that happened. finally some dom kiri on my blog!!! please be sure to lemme know if you enjoyed <3

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[sharkbait77]

The Sun Sets With You

Chapter Five: Just A Man

Summary: A simple yet despondent farm life suddenly sparks with new hope when an unusual traveler makes your town his latest stop and brings with him intriguing and promising viewpoints and no one to share them with. Until he meets you.

Pairing: Ezra Prospect x f!Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: Fluff! (It's getting cute y'all!), death of a parent, grief, smoking, food, Silas🤢, a little sad Ezra in this one

W/C: 4k (made it a little longer to make up for the wait! 🥺)

A/N: We are back! I'm so so so sorry this took so long to get out! What can I say, life happened & kept knocking me down & I couldn't find the strength to write for this fic. I'm still not even completely happy with this chapter, but after reading it so many times, I think it's okay lol a huge thanks to everyone for being so patient & lovely to me ♥️ okay, I'll shut up, hope you enjoy!

Series || Main || Taglist || AO3

Chapter Four || Chapter Six

~MAY EIGHTH OF EIGHTEEN SIXTY-SEVEN~

As the days and weeks passed, Ezra finally felt comfortable enough to join you and Pa for meals at your family table, sitting and eating quietly until responding to a thought or question of Pa’s. It felt nice. It felt…warm and natural. As opposed to the slight coldness you’ve felt sitting with Pa, without your mother. Though it was still as quiet as your meals alone with your father, the silence now was more comforting.

You realized shortly after that last evening under the tree with Ezra what exactly ails you when near him, why exactly your pulse quickens and you feel heat flush your neck and cheeks. It was a startling conclusion, given that you have been inexperienced when it comes to the term ‘love’, outside of the love you felt for Ma and Pa. This, with Ezra, contrasts immensely.

It had caught you off guard, a small infatuation with the man that you realized must have taken hold of your heart from the first moment you met him, when you simply could not remove your eyes from his face. You now find your eyes lingering on his features longer, learning the curve of his smile, the fine wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, memorizing the tone of his voice and his laugh to be replayed in moments of silence.

It’s strange; a simple emotion that you had witnessed your whole childhood into adulthood from your Ma and Pa, an emotion you carry in your heart for each of them, though the way you experience it now, the strength in which it has grasped onto your very being – and so suddenly – has been enough to make the room spin whenever you lay your eyes on him. The idea of taking a husband has never been one of priority. Up until now, at least.

“Many thanks for the delicious meal, miss. I am grateful you have welcomed me into your home as such,” Ezra says as he stands, helping you take the soiled dishes to the wash basin.

“You have always been welcome, Mr. Prospect. I am glad you now feel comfortable joining us,” you say with a gentle smile, looking up at him as he approaches you with the dishes. You catch a faint hue of pink spreading across his sun kissed cheeks.

“Would you care for a pipe, Mr. Prospect?” Pa calls out as he sits in his chair by the fireplace, beginning to pack away tobacco in his own pipe.

“I very much appreciate the offer, sir, however I do not smoke,” Ezra replies kindly as he turns away from you to face Pa and you begin washing.

“Good man; do not start the nasty habit until you become old and worn as I am now,” Pa jests.

“I only see a wise man, years of strength and kindness the only evidence that you have lived a wonderful life thus far,” Ezra compliments and Pa releases a hearty laugh.

“As I said: ‘old’,” Pa replies and both Ezra and you laugh along.

The genuine and natural lightheartedness of the conversations Pa and Ezra shared tonight warms your heart and you realize tonight has been one of the few nights you’ve smiled so freely, so frequently, since Ma’s passing and you strongly sense her spirit surrounding the three of you. Almost as if you could hear her laughing along with you all.

Although a feeling of sadness lingers in your heart that she cannot be here physically, you remember Ezra’s kind words and let them ease you. The comfort you feel wash over you leaves you pondering if it’s a sign of acceptance from above, from Ma, that she welcomes Ezra’s presence amongst you and Pa.

“Can I be of any assistance, Sunflower?” Ezra turns and asks quietly, out of earshot of Pa and addressing you by his personal endearment he has bestowed upon you.

“Thank you for offering, Ezra,” you reply just as softly. His given name had nearly slipped from your lips on more than one occasion tonight, but you felt it best to remain coy in front of your father. “I’m nearly finished now.”

“Perhaps tomorrow night. I will not miss my chance then to be of service,” he smiles and the inside of your cheek stings from the bite you dealt to keep from grinning widely. “I will take my leave for the night. The lovely beasts I room with will be missing my presence, I fear,” he says, loud enough for Pa to hear as well and Pa chuckles at his statement.

“Always a pleasure to have you for dinner, Mr. Prospect,” Pa says and stands to shake Ezra’s hand. “Daughter, would you be so kind as to walk Mr. Prospect to the door?”

“Yes Pa,” you nod, abandoning the soapy dishes for the time being and you wipe your hands to dry on your apron as you head towards the door with Ezra.

Pa smiles again in Ezra’s direction as he walks past and takes his seat once again, watching the flames dance and flicker. Ezra opens the door, allowing you to walk through and step on the porch and he follows suit, shutting the door behind him.

“Shall I walk you to the barn?” You offer.

“No, Sunflower, I would prefer you to stay. The dark of night may carry with it many dangers lurking around the corner.”

“All the more reason I should walk with you,” you grin, wrapping your arms around the wooden support post as you watch him step down into the dirt.

“Then I would intend on escorting you back here and we will only find ourselves repeating the action for one another until daybreak,” he chuckles. “Until tomorrow, dear Sunflower.”

“Tomorrow,” you smile and nod. “Good night, Ezra.”

“Good night,” he bows his head in farewell and turns on his heels to head toward the barn. You linger a moment longer to assure he is well on his way, waving when he turns back to steal another glance at you.

You take a deep breath to calm your galloping heart and turn to walk back inside, Pa sitting quietly as he continues smoking. You head back to the wash basin to finish the chore, rinsing, drying, and putting away the dishes before heading over to sit next to Pa, grabbing a new book from your small collection.

You decided to leave Alice’s Adventures In Wonderland to read with Ezra under the tree and the image of the two of you lying in the grass as you read to him brings a contented smile to your face. After quite a bit of comfortable silence, you feel the curiosity inching through your brain like an insect and decide to give in to the itch.

“H-how are the crops faring, Pa?” You ask while picking at the corner of your book.

“They grow fine,” Pa replies simply. “Each and every week another inch to their lives added.”

“And… Mr. Prospect has been much help?” You continue carefully.

“Oh yes, he has taken on the majority of the labor. We are blessed that he sought to help us.”

“Yes,” you smile softly as you lower your head slightly, gathering the courage to continue the conversation. “And… How do you feel about… Mr. Prospect?”

“What do you mean, child?”

“The townspeople think him...odd.”

“They must reflect on themselves before passing that judgement onto an innocent man. Especially the four hens, as you like to call them,” you giggle and look up at Pa, a slight smirk hidden beneath his thick, grey beard as he lets out a deep chuckle.

“Yes, but… What do you think of Mr. Prospect?”

“Why the curiosity, daughter?” He asks, though no irritation is found in his voice; instead, a light-hearted tone, one of knowing. Knowing why you insist on finding out his opinion.

“Merely curious, Pa,” you say quietly, just loud enough for him to hear over the crackle of the fire.

“Hm,” he hums as he inhales smoke through his pipe, taking his time to retrieve an forthright answer from his mind while you gaze at him in anticipation.

“He is an honest man. Good and kind. A hard worker. I believe he is fit to be a lawful husband to any girl who seeks his affection,” he finally says, looking deep into your eyes and his words go straight to your fast beating heart.

You catch the smile on your face growing, evident in the strain you feel across your cheeks and you put your head down to face the book in your lap.

“That's nice,” you reply once you've cleared your throat and regained control of the muscles on your face.

“Yes. Yes it is,” Pa smirks as he inhales another puff from his pipe.

~MAY TENTH OF EIGHTEEN SIXTY-SEVEN~

Today is as exhilarating as the rest; you attempt to sort through the inventory of the shop, taking note of which supplies are dwindling while also marking down new items the townspeople have requested, such as candles and playing cards for the children. As you walk toward the back of the shop, beginning your count of products there, the shop bell dings and you hear boots stomping from whoever has stepped through the door.

“Just a moment, please,” you call out to the customer from over your shoulder, hoping not to lose track of the count in your head.

“Please, do not rush, Sunflower,” a gentle, familiar voice replies and you feel your heart thumping faster in your chest now as you turn quickly, inventory be damned.

“Ezra,” you greet the man standing meekly at the front of the shop. He takes a few steps forward to meet you beside the counter. “What brings you to town? Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Oh, no thank you, Sunflower. I needed to send a letter off at the post and thought that my day would be much brighter were I able to visit you as well,” he says with a soft grin and you lower your head to hide the bashful expression on your face.

“Well, my day has brightened now, too,” you reply, gaining the courage to look up at him again, the apples of his cheeks reddening. “I trust you were promptly taken care of then?”

“Yes, Mr. Williams is a kind man,” he nods. “The elderly woman who works there as well – she is quite the conversationalist,” he releases a soft laugh.

“Ah, yes. Mrs. Williams,” you shake your head. “She actually does not work there, just adores to be in the center of it all,” you jest and Ezra chuckles. “I do hope she was not too overbearing.”

“Only slightly,” he shrugs. “After you and your Pa, her and Mr. Williams have treated me the kindest since my arrival.”

“Oh Ezra,” you share a perturbed look. “I am truly sorry for the way the town has behaved.”

“Sunflower, you have no reason whatsoever to apologize for the actions of others. Unfortunately, this town has not been the most unpleasant I’ve come across. I was very lucky to have found you. And your Pa,” he rushes the last phrase and you smile knowingly, his mouth curving slightly as well.

You open your mouth to continue the conversation, the innocent coquetry between you, yet no sounds are released from your mouth before the shop bell dings again and you sigh at the interruption. You turn your head and your racing heart, caused by Ezra’s presence, races faster, only in anger now.

“And what do we have here?” Silas’s booming, uninvited voice resonates through the shop. “What business could a queer like you have to conduct in town?” He looks at Ezra and you step in front of him.

“I told you not to call him that, Silas.”

“It does not seem he’s made any purchase,” he says, making a show of looking in Ezra’s hands for any paper bag. “Yet he is allowed to stay and converse while you toss me in the dirt.”

“Go away, Silas.”

“Sunflower-” Ezra calls gently from behind you, unable to finish his thought.

“‘Sunflower’?!” Silas laughs. “She does not need a freak to endear her, not when she has a real man. Like me.”

“Silas, he is more of a man than you could ever hope to be,” you spit out.

Of all the times you had the opportunity to speak your mind to Silas, you held back. Though, now that it is directed to Ezra, you feel that innate protectiveness for him wash over you again, no matter the cost or consequence.

“You dare say such a thing to me, girl?” Silas takes a menacing step forward.

“She is not a girl and you will not speak to her as one,” Ezra moves to stand in front of you now. “And I do believe she has requested for you to take your leave.”

“And exactly who will force me out? You?” Silas puffs out his chest, as if he were attempting to assert his role as an alpha, and frustration grows on his face at Ezra’s lack of response to the tactic.

“If I must.” Ezra replies simply and calmly, the tone of his voice even, though underneath lies a hidden message that he would not back down from a brawl, if it were to come to that.

“Ezra, please, he isn’t worth it,” you say softly, reaching out to hold his forearm.

“Oh, aren’t I?” Silas scoffs.

“I will summon Sheriff Wilson here to collect you himself if you do not leave my shop right this instant,” you hold your unyielding gaze to Silas’s, raising your chin slightly so as to challenge him to defy your wishes.

Silas hmph’s, his thick brows arching menacingly as he glances down at where your hand rests firmly on Ezra’s arm, clearly displeased at the contact. You feel Ezra’s form tense next to you, and you use your free hand to lightly press against his back in an effort to calm him.

“Fine,” Silas finally says harshly as he turns his back to you and Ezra and stomps to the door.

He looks over his shoulder one more time at the two of you and something about his animalistic eyes sends a nasty shiver down your spine. Before he can see you falter, he rips the door open, walks through, and slams it shut, rattling the frame as he leaves. You exhale shakily and Ezra turns his body to face yours, his hands gripping onto your upper arms as his eyes rake over your face in concern.

“Are you alright, Sunflower?”

“Oh Ezra,” you gaze at him thoughtfully. “It should be me asking you that same question.”

“Please, don’t worry about me. My only concern is you,” he continues, his eyes trying to follow yours as you look away from him. “Does he come here unannounced often? Has he bothered you before?”

“Ezra, he has always been a thorn in my side, but it is nothing for you to concern yourself with. I promise,” you look in his eyes, hoping to convince him, but you suspect it does not work and his hands fall from your arms.

“Sunflower… I did not appreciate the way he looked at you and spoke to you.”

“It’s alright Ezra, it is not anything I can’t handle,” you smile and grasp one of his hands in both of yours, squeezing it gently as reassurance.

You’re unsure of what to say. What could you say? That up until now you have been cowardly when it came to Silas Taylor? That it was not until Ezra’s arrival to town that you have come to know a stronger side of yourself, willing to risk your already frail reputation to defend this man’s name?

Ezra sighs heavily, staring into your eyes a moment longer before looking away. You watch his eyebrows crinkle together, the worry wrinkles along his forehead becoming more prominent as he reflects on the situation that just passed.

“Are you alright? Please… Do not take anything he says to heart,” you say softly and your kind voice pulls him back from his thoughts and to this moment with you. He smirks and huffs a chuckle through his nose.

“No fear, Sunflower. It is not a trial I cannot handle,” he cocoons your hands in both of his and squeezes lightly, as if to reassure you he is alright. “I will go now, Sunflower.”

“I understand,” you nod. “Then… I will see you back at the farm for supper.”

He smiles to acknowledge your words, releasing your hands and heading to the door. He turns once more to nod his goodbye, places his hat back on his head, and walks out the door. You walk to the front of the shop to watch him through the window, his hands in his pockets and his shoulders slumped forward as he walks swiftly to leave the area.

Your head feels on fire, ready to blow steam at any moment as you watch the townspeople around staring at him. They turn to each other, presumably whispering gossip amongst themselves about him. Unfortunately, as you have come to know Silas, you know he will be spreading word of the ‘threat’ he felt from Ezra, which you surmise will only result in the townspeople turning their backs on Ezra even further.

~MAY TWELFTH OF EIGHTEEN SIXTY-SEVEN~

Ezra had not shown up for supper that night or the night that followed. You had wanted to take supper to him, but Pa advised against it. He had heard on his last trip to town what transpired between you, Ezra, and Silas. You prepared yourself to, once again, defend Ezra, however, Pa’s unabated rancor of Silas all but guaranteed Pa would not believe a word from his mouth.

Pa informed you that when he returned and asked Ezra about the situation, he assured the man that he was not at risk of losing the job at the farm, and while he was grateful, he did not wish to speak on it further. Pa told you to leave him to gather his bearings and you complied.

On your way to the oak tree, you pick two apples as you had done the Sunday prior, and to your earnest disappointment, you do not see Ezra as the tree comes into view. You look left, then right, hoping it was possible he had just walked along the riverbank, but you were alone.

Heaving a sigh, you turn to face the way you came as you debate on heading back. Your weekly tradition almost seemed silly to continue alone, after having been in Ezra’s company the past few weeks. It almost felt...incorrect to spend time here without Ezra now. You take a few steps forward, now under the shade of the tree, sparing another moment in case you missed him.

“Sunflower,” his elated voice from above frightens you and you quickly turn your head to follow the sound, seeing his bright smile from where he sits on a thick branch.

“Ezra! You startled me!” You chuckle as you take a few breaths, covering your racing heart with your hand.

“My apologies,” he chuckles. “I did not hear you walk up otherwise I would have made my presence known sooner.”

“I did not expect to see you in the tree today,” you smile up at him.

“Come, join me,” he smiles, patting the bark to the side of him.

“I have not climbed a tree since I was a child, Ezra. I will fall,” you shake your head.

“I will never let you fall, Sunflower,” he smiles and your now settled heart begins to race again. “It’s simple, really. Nothing to it. I will guide your steps.”

You take a deep breath, pondering for a moment if the risk was truly worth it, but there’s an excitement in this small adventure that you feel your soul reaching for. You smile at Ezra and nod, removing your bag and placing it at the base of the tree.

You follow Ezra’s voice commands as he tells you where to step up and you use more muscles in your body than you have in so long. You heave yourself upwards, careful that your boots do not miss any section of the tree that will have you flying all the way back down.

Finally, you make it far enough for Ezra to take hold of your arm, using his strength now to help pull you up until you’re close enough to attempt to sit. He scoots over, keeping his hand tightly grasped on your arm to make sure you don’t fall. Though, at this point, if you were to fall, Ezra would certainly fall with you.

You plant your bottom firmly onto the branch, breathing heavily and smiling widely at the accomplishment and Ezra chuckles along with you. You try to settle yourself further and suddenly get the sense of falling, reaching out instinctively to hold onto Ezra’s arm and you practically glue yourself to his side for support.

“You will not fall, Sunflower,” he reassures and you feel him lean closer into you to comfort you.

“Pardon me,” you giggle, feeling steady enough now to remove yourself from him. You take a deep breath and look out ahead at the river and the grassland, spotting the other farms in the distance. “Wow,” you say breathlessly. “It’s a beautiful sight.”

“Yes, it is,” Ezra responds softly. You turn your head to him where you already meet his gaze and turn away again as you smile.

“Oh no,” you gasp as your eyes meet your bag down below. “I left the book… And the apples,” you turn to frown at Ezra.

“Do not fret, Sunflower,” he smiles. “I enjoy your company regardless.”

“Maybe...you could read me more of your prose?” You prod gently, hoping he will be willing.

“Yes,” he says wistfully as he glances down at his journal. “I do like when you read to me, however.”

You smile as he passes his journal to you and you cradle it with care in your hands. You move to open it and the binding opens automatically to one page, clearly still stiff from where he had it open, this addition to the pages only written just recently. You clear your throat and let your eyes dance as they pick up the words in his neat handwriting.

“‘A being from a different universe desires to live amongst the men in peace on Earth, for his purpose to be written in the stars. A nomad, an outcast on the run, desperate for a residence more suitable than his dreams. Soon, he will find home, and soon, he will find life’,” your voice trails towards the end of the passage, your heart wrenching at the meaning behind it.

“Ezra…” You call softly once you notice his head has lowered.

The silence stretches and you can almost visualize it expanding across the lands in front of your view, any helpful or comforting words escaping from your reach. The only conclusion your mind seems to come to is just to place a hand softly on his thigh. You feel his muscle twitch at the contact and he glances over at you, a light tint of pink beginning to spread across his cheeks.

You suddenly feel embarrassed to have placed your hand there and you immediately think to yourself that perhaps it was not welcomed, though before you can remove your hand, Ezra places his own, large and warm, over yours. Your mind settles while your heart beats rapidly. You still do not know what to say, but it does not seem Ezra is expecting for you to say anything at all.

“I’ve missed you at supper, Ezra,” you whisper and grin softly.

“Forgive me for my absence, I was not… I did not feel…” You sense him struggling as he lowers his head again and you place your other hand on top of your intertwined ones.

“I understand; you have no need to apologize.”

He looks at you again and you give him a reassuring smile and he returns the gesture. You two say nothing and let the comfortable silence blanket the air around you while you gaze out to your surroundings again, your hands not leaving each other’s grasp.

“Sunflower?” He calls and you turn to face him again.

“Yes, Ezra?”

“I’ve missed you as well.”

Chapter Four || Chapter Six

Series || Main || Taglist || AO3

Tags: @the-ginger-hedge-witch @asta-lily @honeymandos @pascalpanic @aliwritesfic @mandocrasis @hnt-escape @winter-fox-queen @sarahjkl82-blog @day-off-inkyoto @pedrocentric @astoryisaloveaffair @amandalovess @foli-vora @lucrezia-thoughts @chasingdreamer @quica-quica-quica @pedro4ever @mishasminion360 @wardenparker @librariantothejedi @fan-of-encouragement @javierpinme @writeforfandoms @ew-erin @you-got-me-starry-eyed @beskarboobs @andiesturgss @maryfanson @princessxkenobi @castleamc @magpie-to-the-morning @pbeatriz @radiowallet @stevie75 @honestly-shite @bison-writes @amneris21 @disgruntledspacedad

Ezra Prospect Tags: @quietpainter @grogusmum @tenderwhat

[booksforevermore13]

Nine days (at long last)

Summary: Harry wants to propose to Ginny, but it turns out to be a lot harder than he thought. In the end, it takes nine days.

A/N: Huge, huge thanks to my awesome teammates Autumn, Ashleigh and Hannah for looking through the fic! I had a lot of fun writing this (after ditching another one I wrote) but in the end, I'm glad it turned out okay! Read it on Fanfiction or AO3 if you prefer!

...

"Mate, if you're waiting for the right moment, this is it."

"I know."

"Like, now."

"I know."

"She's looking at you, mate."

"I know."

"It's now or never."

"I know," Harry hissed, glaring at Ron. Consciously, he glanced at her again, standing between Bill and George and laughing as George spoke, and, if he hadn't chosen today as the day he proposed, he'd have been laughing along with her. But her eyes were on him, and then not, as her gaze turned to George and she laughed and Harry found himself immediately missing her gaze.

"I know what the problem is," Ron announced and Harry looked at him, arching an eyebrow in question.

"What?"

"You," Ron pointed at him, "are going to propose to her," and then pointed at Ginny, "my sister. My only sister."

"I know who I am going to propose to, Ron. Get to the point."

"The point is that I," he declared, "am her brother. It doesn't fundamentally work for me to tell you, my best mate, to marry my only sister. That… that's like violating the brother's code."

Harry rubbed his forehead, glancing warily at the glass of whisky in Ron's hand. In the short span in which Hermione had gone to help Mrs. Weasley with the cooking, he'd downed more than he would have with her around.

"How much have you had to drink, Ron?"

"Enough to be disgusted by the two of you simply looking at each other. You act as if you've never seen her before, Merlin."

"Oh, god, Ron, she's looking at me again."

The last time he'd been this nervous was back in his sixth year and that was when he and Ron had been dolts of the highest calibre. When he looked at Ron again, he was shaking his head in exasperation.

"Yeah, why is that, Harry? Did she find out you've been staring at her for the last ten minutes?" Ron hissed and Harry glared at him.

He clearly wasn't expecting Ron to give him a sharp nudge to his ribs, and when he did, Harry found himself a lot closer to Ginny than he was before. This time, when he turned, Ron nodded excitedly at him and when he looked at Ginny again, this time, her eyes were already on him.

"Hey," he found himself saying as he walked near her. George leaned over to say something to Bill but stepped away as Ginny turned on them, and they put their hands in the air, grinning.

"Hey back," Ginny said as he neared, and if he hadn't been so secretive these last few days, he'd have thought she'd figured it out.

For a second, he wished he hadn't chosen the Burrow to be where he proposed. nine days before Christmas, too. It was a time when everyone in the family was there, and the extended family too, and the Burrow became so crammed up that they slept on the couches and conjured tents outside. Harry loved it, but given the time, it might not have been his ideal choice for a proposal.

But the Burrow was and had remained the place where he had the most good memories, the best ones, with the people he loved and who loved him back, and in the end, he'd figured this to be the right place. The best one.

"You want to say something to me, Harry?" Ginny asked, and Harry realised with a jerk that he'd been staring.

"I do." He coughed and patted his coat pocket, searching for the box. "It's uh… very important."

"Yeah?" Ginny smiled and stepped forward, putting her hands around his neck. Consciously, he could feel eyes on them, but focused on Ginny, the slight smile on her face, her flaming red hair falling in waves down her shoulder and when he looked closer, the tiny flecks of golden brown in her eyes.

Where in the bloody hell was that box?

"You look beautiful," he stammered, searching his jeans for the box. He'd told her that before, but in the heat of the moment, complimenting her was the only thing coming to mind. He checked his coat pocket again. He was sure he'd had it while talking to Ron. He'd felt it.

"Harry." He heard Ginny say his name and looked up at her to see her chuckling."What is it you want to say?"

"I… uh…"

It wasn't there. The bloody box wasn't there. Harry brought out his hands from his pocket and with one hand, brushed back some of her hair behind her ear. "It's nothing," he found himself saying. "Just uh… want you to know how much I love you."

And that if I could find that ring, I'd get down on one knee right now.

Ginny laughed and if Harry could have bottled that sound and got drunk on it every day, he would have. "Where's this coming from?"

"Nowhere," he said hurriedly. Goddamnit.

Harry could see she was trying not to laugh. "What's going on, Harry?" Ginny asked, and Harry stilled.

Should he tell her? Without the ring? Harry looked at her, taking note of every small detail, even though he'd done it a thousand times before. The sprinkle of freckles around her nose, the golden brown flecks in her eyes. Her face was so close to him that he could smell the sweet fragrance of the sherry she'd been drinking and Harry knew that if anything, she deserved a perfect proposal. So, he shook his head and waited a moment longer. Then he kissed her.

If there were any groans from the audience, he didn't notice, nor did he care about the fact that he was kissing her in front of her brothers, who'd threatened him more than once for the mere feat that was dating her. No, instead, he cupped her cheek to bring her closer, one hand lost in her hair.

When they finally broke for air, and she looked at him with that knowing smirk on her face, Harry couldn't help but kiss her again.

"Have I ever told you," he said breathlessly, "that your hair is really soft after you wash it?"

And she laughed, and Harry felt a surge of disappointment because after all the talk of right moments, he knew that if he could do it, he'd do it now.

When they finally turned, the crowd around them had left, all except for Ron looking disapprovingly at him, Hermione who'd come back during the commotion and who was now shaking her head at him in earnest, and George with a rather bored look on his face.

"I thought it was going to be interesting," he said, and then shuddered. "Instead, all we got was a very public display of affection. Merlin."

And as Ginny laughed beside him, Harry couldn't help but blush.

Try another day, it was.

…

Harry shivered as he stepped inside the Burrow. It was two in the night and the silence he entered was almost jarring. Pots clanging, Victoire crying, Teddy's excited voice from the living room, George and Ron laughing in the backyard, Ginny screaming at her brothers; it had become a comfort to hear it. Now, however, silence.

He welcomed the warm gust of air as he closed the door behind him, shrugging off his coat and jacket, keeping his boots on the mat. He'd not expected a call from the Ministry that night. Two nights before Christmas, and they'd spotted Mulciber in a Muggle village, and he'd had to go in. They'd not anticipated anyone else, but when they Apparated there Mulciber had not been alone.

"Hey," he heard a voice and turned around, a smile on his face before he even saw who it was.

Ginny was sitting on the couch, a tub of ice-cream in her hand.

"What are you doing up?"

She shrugged. "I had a very strong craving for blueberry ice-cream," Ginny said and Harry laughed.

This was not the first time he'd come back home to see her up. Harry'd never said it, but it was comforting, coming back home at three in the morning to see her licking off ice-cream right from the tub. He'd sit beside her and she'd open up a tub of chocolate and they'd eat it until it melted.

Harry sat beside her on the couch.

"How'd the mission go?"

"Rough," he replied, not bothering to lie. Ginny knew him well enough to catch his bluff.

"What happened?" she asked, and he could hear the distinct concern in her voice, the fear in her eyes.

"Nothing major. Avery was hoping for a tussle when we went in. There were a dozen of them, five of us. Took us by surprise."

He felt her still beside him and looked at her, smiling reassuringly.

"Was anyone hurt?"

"No. Bruises, stuns, splinches, nothing that'll stay."

"And you?"

"I'm fine."

She sighed, and Harry leaned against her, too awake to feel sleepy, yet completely worn out. He felt Ginny move under him and then her thumb rubbing circles on the juncture between his thumb and his index. He smiled absently, closing his eyes in comfort.

"You know," Ginny said softly, "George and I, we scrounged up a T.V today, televelly something."

"Television." Harry smiled absently. She was offering a distraction, and Harry was glad she was. He needed one.

"That," Ginny chuckled. "We fixed it. Well, Hermione did and then we found this… this… some moony…. moovyon it."

"You mean, a movie?"

"Yes, that," Ginny said indignantly and Harry laughed and pressed a kiss on her forehead. "Anyway," she waved around her hands, "I found a movie on it, and it's the same as a book I read when I was young. Frankenstein."

"You've read that?"

Ginny nodded, and then got up, squeezing his hand as she did and then rummaged under the table for something. She walked behind the sofa, and hauled up a large cube like thing, covered by the black cloth. Harry watched her in confusion as she took out her wand and charmed a table mat into a socket, and then took off the black cloth.

"Wait, you really found a T.V?"

She looked at him, an eyebrow arched. "You thought I was joking?"

"No," he said, and Ginny smiled.

She rummaged around a few more minutes, conjuring up things, fixing wires into sockets and then sat down beside him, a remote in hand.

"Don't look so surprised, this is all Hermione," Ginny said and pointed to the screen "I thought this was a mirror."

Harry had to hold back a laugh before she peered at the remote and pressed a button and he whistled as the screen came to life. Ginny wiggled her eyebrows at him and then pressed a few more buttons, and as fast as the screen had lit up, a black and white series of images appeared on the screen.

"I know, I'm brilliant," Ginny said, smirking at him.

"Damn right.'

She turned her gaze to the screen and he followed her. Frankenstein. He knew the movie. He didn't like it. Harry had seen it last at the Dursleys, and he, quite frankly, hadn't been big on a movie which showed someone creating a monster and then dying at the hands of the said monster he created. It was terrifying for him.

He didn't say anything, seeing Ginny's face. She was excited and happy, and seeing her like this made it a little more bearable for him, but he was positively miffed when he saw the monster being created and right on the edge of covering his face when it killed its first victim.

It was all well and good until he saw the man talk to the creature, and that was when he knew he was done.

"Ginny," he said breathlessly, "hey, Gin?" and as Ginny turned to him, he didn't know if he should have laughed or jumped around the living room thrice.

He turned his face in embarrassment, as Ginny looked at him and promptly started laughing, her laughter echoing in the room before Harry pressed his palm on her mouth and her voice was muffled. She quieted down, but he could see her glinting in the dimming light of the fire.

"Merlin, sorry," Ginny chuckled, "I shouldn't laugh."

He tensed again as the monster in question roared.

"Gin, this movie, it's really scary, seriously," he said quickly, "but you're enjoying it so I'm trying not to cover my face the whole time, but- WHAT IS THAT?"

"It's a classic!" Ginny laughed. "Merlin, Harry, take a chance. What harm can it do?"

"Oh, I took a chance. Fifteen years ago. I don't see how people find this," he pointed at the screen, "this scary, murderous movie where everyone dies as a cinematic masterpiece."

Ginny was still laughing and Harry's ears were now a bright red, and he couldn't have been more embarrassed.

When Ginny finally switched the T.V off, he couldn't help but sigh in relief.

"How," Ginny said and he shook his head, knowing what was to come, "can a person like you, who fights Death-Eaters on a daily basis, be scared of a movie?"

Harry tapped his forehead in exasperation and Ginny laughed.

"God, you're adorable."

She leaned forward, kissing him and then moving away, but Harry held onto her waist, bringing her close to him. Perhaps now was the right time to do it, he thought. Maybe he should take out the ring now.

There were only them here, she was in his arms, he could just take out the ring and ask.

But what if it was too early? What if she said no?

Harry looked at her, and Ginny leaned forward, her hands around her neck as she kissed him and Harry wondered how long it'd take for him to gather the courage he so direly needed. In a way, this was more daunting than the monster Frankenstein had created.

But then he heard a noise, a clicking noise, and a smell of something burning, and they broke off, Harry still holding Ginny close to him, alert for any signs of danger, when they saw it.

The socket was smoking. Bloody smoking.

"Shit!" Ginny cursed, and scrambled up, Harry behind her, and before Ginny could touch anything, Harry wrenched out the socket.

"Oh, shit," Ginny repeated, seeing the blackened metal. "Oh, Merlin, no."

"There goes our Frankenstein," Harry mumbled. And my proposal.

Ginny glared at him.

…

Christmas was every bit as wonderful as he had imagined it. As he had imagined it every year. No, the right word wasn't wonderful. It was happy.

Harry, by now, was convinced that Christmas was meant for the Weasley family.

A strong gust of wind blew and he smiled as he heard Ron's voice and then a cracker burst and then Mrs. Weasley yelling.

"Hey." He heard Ginny behind him and turned.

"Hey back."

"A change of colours, I see?" Ginny asked, looking at his sweater. Consciously, he tugged at it, then looked at her.

"I think Mrs. Weasley ran out of red yarn." He smiled, brushing the golden yellow snitch on the hem of his sweater. It was blue this year, and Harry had been surprised when he'd opened the package, but it had essentially been one of the best gifts he'd got.

Ginny walked near him, slipping her hands in his. They were hands which knew how to hold on and yet simultaneously set you free.

He was going to do it.

"Gin," he started, the weight of the ring in his pocket reassuring. "I have to ask you something."

She nodded and Harry continued. "I… I love you. It's no secret. I… you are… I love you so much. It was and has always been… you." He waited, out of breath, but he wasn't going to stop.

"You love me like I'm the person who actually deserves your love."

"But you are the only one who does," Ginny said, and Harry, for a moment, couldn't help but wonder what he'd done to deserve her.

Momentarily, he looked down, taking out the box, but when he looked up again, his eyes widened. This time, Ginny was holding a box too, identical to his, and her eyes were shining.

"What… h-how?" he stammered and Ginny laughed.

"How do you think?" she said, "Didn't think I'd know you were trying to propose to me for the last nine days now, Harry, did you?"

"It was supposed to be a secret!"

Ginny laughed, and Harry laughed too, though he was a bit disgruntled by the fact that she'd known the whole time. Maybe he wasn't as smooth as he thought he was but it was a mystery to him how she had known.

"Where did you find the ring the first time you lost it, Harry?"

Harry gaped at her, and chuckled unbelievably. "How?" he said, then chuckled again. "With Teddy."

"Yes, well, he showed it to me before he gave it to you. Clearly, he knew the ring was meant for me."

This time, Harry laughed out loud, and her hand still in his, he brought her closer to him.

"And if that wasn't enough, my hair being soft essentially gave it away," she said with a smirk.

Harry kissed her on the forehead, and then on the lips. He frowned as Ginny drew away, but it turned into a smile, as he saw her opening the box.

The ring inside was identical to his, the only difference being the vines running along its length. He took out his ring from the box, holding it beside hers, flowers and vines side by side.

When he looked up, Ginny's eyes were shining with tears. He knew his were, too.

"So," she said, "will you marry me?"

Harry laughed, and then gently put the ring on her middle finger.

"Only if you marry me, too."

And Ginny laughed, and cried, and he thought he did too and in the end when her lips collided with his, he knew it had been worth it.

In the end, he was glad he'd waited nine days.

...

[misslilli]

Whelp, with yesterday we're back at school. Teaching first grade is hard, man 😂 Thank you guys, again, for going on this adventure with me :)

Felix Felicis

MSR. AU. PG-13. | tagging @today-in-fic | read on AO3

Chapter 17 - The Mulder Boys's Birthday Bash

[ DS ]

The Saturday of the Mulder Boys’s Birthday Bash, I find myself standing in front of my closet with the girls, frowning at my selection of dresses. “What about this one?” Holly fingers a yellow sundress.

“Nah, it’s pretty but she looks like she’s going to church in that one.” Sarah tugs on a dress with a daisy print on it.

“Are you joking? That one’s even more Virgin Mary than the yellow one!”

Alex reaches into my closet and pulls out a navy two-piece dress I bought on a whim a few years back, but have never worn since then. “How about this one?”

“A, that’s perfect! It’s classy, yet sexy, just what we’re going for!” Sarah shoves me towards my bathroom. “Go try it on, D! And wear those nude heels with it.” I take the dress out of Alex’s arms and the shoes from Sarah and change into the outfit quickly. The straps drape across my arms just below my shoulders and it’s low cut just enough for my comfort. My cross necklace gleams against my skin and I decide to keep it on for tonight. Since it’s a two-piece, there’s just a sliver of skin visible between the top and the skirt, which flares out and swishes around my knees.

Slipping on my heels I step outside and the girls gasp in unison. “Yes, that’s the one! How does it feel D?” Holly pulls me over and I twirl in front of the full-length mirror, smiling as the skirt billows out around my legs.

“It’s beautiful, I love it. Thanks, girls!”

“The Mulder boys won’t know what hit ‘em when you show up wearing that!” Sarah winks at me suggestively and I roll my eyes at her.

“You know exactly that that’s not why I’m wearing it!”

Now it’s Sarah’s turn to roll her eyes. “Yeah sure, just keep telling yourself that…”

“Come on guys, we’re already unfashionably late. I’ll just call us a cab, are you ready?”

I grab a shawl against the cold and my purse before we make our way downstairs to wait for the cab. When we arrive at the house, we can already hear faint party noises from the backyard and my heart’s beating hard against my chest when we walk up the front walkway to ring the doorbell. My gaze wanders around the front of the house, the glass veranda on the right catching my eye. It’s completely different from our beach house, but it’s beautiful all the same.

The door opens to reveal Principal Skinner with a glass of whiskey in his hand and he holds the door open for us. “Hello ladies, come on in! You look extraordinarily beautiful tonight! Follow me, the party’s out back in the yard.”

He leads us through the house and I notice that it’s got polished hardwood floors and is furnished with antiques, giving it a cozy feel. We walk past the glass veranda which houses the dining room on the right and the living room with a massive couch to the left, which opens into the kitchen. The wooden staircase to the first floor is tucked away in the back. Skinner points us to the bathroom as we walk past it before we step outside onto the back porch and my breath catches in my chest.

They really went all out on this party, there’s string lights twinkling all around the hedge and in the trees, catered food and a bar in one corner, round tables in the middle and a massive dancefloor with a DJ in the other corner. Holly whistles through her teeth. “Man, they sure know how to live it up. Why are our parties never this nice? Jesus, I think they invited half the town for this.”

“Well, that’s on me I guess, they don’t know many people around here yet so I figured it would be the perfect opportunity to make new acquaintances,” Principal Skinner admits but I’m only half listening because my eyes are too busy scanning the crowd. Sarah nudges my hip and tilts her head over to the bar and I’m embarrassed that she knows exactly who I was looking for. There he is, deep in conversation with Skinner’s wife, laughing at something she said.

He’s wearing a dark blue suit with a white dress shirt and a crimson tie and while the sight of him in a plain t-shirt with jeans are enough to make my heart skip a beat, him in that suit is going to give me a heart attack.

“Would you look at that D, you color coordinated, matchsiiiesss.” Holly whispers in my ear and I give her a pointed look.

“Shut up, Holly!” I hiss at her.

Just then, he looks over at us standing on the elevated porch and I can practically feel the slight burn his eyes leave as they travel up and down my body, giving me the once over. I hope he has a defibrillator. He flashes us a smile and raises his hand in a small wave, then continues his conversation with Arlene Skinner.

“Come on, girls, let’s put the presents on the gift table and get something to eat and drink.” ‘Eat, drink and be merry for today you may die.’

At the bar we sidestep the wine for now, since we haven’t eaten yet and I don’t want to embarrass myself by getting tipsy and stumbling over my heels. With my luck, I’ll just faceplant at a certain someone’s feet. ‘Huh, maybe he’ll catch me in those strong arms of his, though, if you’re really lucky…‘

When he spots our little circle, Felix comes over to us wearing a boy version of his dad’s suit, only with short dress pants and sneakers better suited for running around with the other kids. He’s tugging a tall woman along, with wavy brown hair and a kind face that seems somewhat familiar, but I’m not sure where to place her. His face is flushed and he beams at us happily.

“You came!”

“Of course we came, happy birthday Felix!” Sarah raises her glass to him and we all chime in with our Happy birthdays. The woman he came over with also raises her glass and ruffles his hair affectionately.

“This is my teacher Miss Anderson, and Miss Carter and Miss Spencer and Miss Scully,” he introduces us while the woman takes her turn shaking our hands. She regards me curiously and her lips curve into a smile.

“I’m Sam, Fox’s sister and Felix’s favorite aunt!” His sister, that’s why her face seemed so familiar. “So you’re the enigmatic Miss Scully I’ve heard so much about. It’s so nice to finally meet you!” She notices the surprised look on my face. “Only good things, I promise. Felix won’t shut up about you when we talk on the phone.” I laugh, mostly because of the exasperated look Felix gives his aunt at revealing his secret.

“Glad to hear it, we’re having a lot of fun with him during recess! Nice to meet you, Sam. I really like your dress, did you get it around here?”

“Thanks, but no, I got it back in LA, I’m only visiting for a couple of days, I just couldn’t miss my two handsome boys’s birthday bash!”

“Handsome, huh? You spoil me sis!” Her brother has snuck up behind her, throwing his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side and planting a kiss on her cheek. “Hi ladies, thanks for coming, you look very lovely today!” We raise our glasses to him as well, wishing him a happy birthday and my drink spills over a little in my shaky hand. I pray that no one notices.

“Sam I’m so sorry to drag you away, but can you help me out and check if everything’s alright with the caterers?” They excuse themselves and we decide it’s time for us to check out what said caterers have prepared, our stomachs already rumbling. Hopefully, the butterflies in my stomach will make room.

----------

[ Sam ]

After checking with the caterers inside, I return to the party, standing on the back porch to watch everyone have a good time and I’m secretly a little proud of myself. Planning the party from all the way across the country had been stressful to say the least, but it turned out great. My gaze wanders around the tables and it catches on the tiny red-head and her three friends, who seem to be having a great time, laughing and chatting at their table.

I’ve heard many stories from Felix over the last few weeks but what surprised me the most was the way my brother looks at her. When I saw the way his whole face lit up when she walked in, I realized that Felix was not the only one taken with Miss Scully. She’s not his usual type - not that she’s not pretty, she is, very much so - but she’s actually nice. A vast improvement from the piece of work that’s his ex-wife, let me tell you. I wonder if he’s thought about asking her out yet.

----------

[ DS ]

After dinner, we’re treated to another visit from the little Mulder, who’s breathless from the game of tag with his friends. “Hey Felix! Are you having a good time?” He nods enthusiastically, trying hard to catch his breath.

“Yeah, auntie Sam did a really good job! I can’t wait for my cake, she said it’s really huuuge! And the DJ is playing aaaall my favorite songs, too!”

Suddenly shy, he shuffles his feet a bit and then, gathering all his courage, he looks up at me and holds out a tiny hand. “Miss Scully, will you dance with me?”

“Of course, birthday boy, come on.”

----------

[ Sam ]

Once I’m finished making another round of checking that everything’s running smoothly, I spot my brother standing at the bottom of the stairs, watching the party. Stopping on the last step, I wrap my arms around his waist and rest my chin on his shoulder. “Great party, huh?”

“Yeah, you did a pretty good job sis. And Skinner’s managed to gather up quite a crowd. Almost everyone’s here tonight!”

“You know what I think? You’d be just as happy if it were only you and one other special guest here tonight.” He turns his head a little, frowning.

“What?” I motion my head to the woman who’s currently talking to Felix at her table. “Aah. Is it that obvious?” I snort derisively

“Are you kidding me, bro? I’ve known you all my life, I can see the hearts in your eyes from a mile down the road. Have you asked her out yet?”

“No… I’m so nervous around her I can barely string more than a few coherent words together. She probably thinks I’m a huge idiot. I asked her if she believes in aliens, Sam!” We watch as Felix holds his hand out to her, asking her to dance with him. He’s so cute I can barely stand it.

“I’m sure that’s not true. You should take a page out of your son’s book though, boy’s got game!” My brother laughs as the somewhat mismatched pair sways on the dancefloor.

I release him from my embrace, an idea popping into my head. “You should go and cut in.” Now he fully turns to me and looks at me like I’m crazy.

“What? No…” He’s making his panic face.

“What yes! Carpe diem, right now!” I give him a gentle shove in the direction of the dancefloor. “Go! I’ll handle the music.”

----------

[ DS ]

Of course, I can’t say no to the little charmer and we make our way to the dancefloor and I sway with Felix in time to the music, twirling him around until he giggles.

“You look really handsome tonight, Felix!”

He smiles shyly and narrowly avoids stepping on my shoes. “Thank you! You look really beautiful too.”

“You’re absolutely right, son. Mind if I cut in?” A tingle shoots up my spine at the sound of his voice and Felix nods, stepping back. His dad holds out his hand to me. “A dance for the other birthday boy?”

“Well technically, it’s not your birthday for a few days.” I tease him, but I slip my hand into his and he spins me against him, wrapping his right arm around my waist, clasping my left hand in his tightly. The DJ fades into a new song and I groan inwardly as Sonny and Cher’s “I got you babe!” starts droning from the speakers. We sway for a few beats before he whips me across the dancefloor in a quick waltz. Over his shoulder I can see countless pairs of eyes following us but for once, tonight, I don’t care because all I can feel is the burn of his fingers resting on the sliver of exposed skin of my waist and the tickle of the hair at the back of his neck against my hand. God, this guy can waltz.

On the last few notes, he twirls me out with a grin on his face, tugging on my hand to bring me back in and then he dips me back for the grand finale. Dips me. The move takes me by surprise and I laugh, breathless when he brings me upright again.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to dip your lady in a waltz!” I realize my Freudian slip a fraction of a second too late. ‘Your lady? What the heck, Dana.’

He just shrugs nonchalantly, still grinning. “If I fancy to dip my lady, I will dip my lady! Thank you for this dance, Miss Scully!” He bows his head and I chuckle, curtsying. “The pleasure was all mine, Mr. Mulder!” ‘Who ARE you?’

We step off the dancefloor and I return to our table, sitting down still a little bit out of breath, only to be met with three incredulous stares. ‘Here we go, 3, 2, 1…’

“What was that, D?” Holly.

“Oh my God, the two of you on the dancefloor!” Sarah.

“That was incredible!” Alex.

I shrug, picking up my glass, but I can’t hide the blush on my face and smile around my straw. “Mr. Mulder can waltz.” I’ll never live this down.

Sometime after the birthday cakes came out, Felix appears at my side again and leans against me heavily. I can tell he’s coming down from his sugar-high. “Miss Scully, remember how I told you about the encyclopedia on butterflies?”

“Yeah I do, what about it?”

“Would you like to see it?” He looks up at me hopefully and I agree, glad to get away from the action for a while.

“Okay, come on!” Together we climb the steps to the back porch and he tugs me inside into the living room where we sit down on the couch. I can finally slip off my heels while Felix runs to get the encyclopedia and after returning, places it on my lap curling up into my side. He opens the heavy book and shows me his favorite butterflies, explaining in great detail what’s so special about it.

His voice gets more and more quiet with each new butterfly until he stops talking altogether and looking down I realize that he fell asleep, completely wiped. Coming off my own sugar high, I scoot down lower into the cushions and lean my head back against the back, closing my eyes. Just for a second.

[sisterspooky1013]

Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 12

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

He’s surprised how nervous he feels knocking on her door. This is far from their first date and, while not exactly planned, he’s already stayed the night at her place. But this date feels significant to him, and perhaps what he’s nervous about is how she’ll react to what he has planned. He takes a moment to pull in a deep breath, tugging at the hem of his T-shirt, but when she opens the door all his nerves subside.

She’s wearing jeans and a pink tank top that has thin straps and is relatively low cut, a small bow pinned to the center right above her breasts. Over it, she has on a black cardigan worn open, her hair down and a little mussed. She smiles warmly and his heart lurches.

“Hi,” she says, and steps forward, pushing on to her tip toes and placing a hand on his shoulder so she can kiss him. Is this the first time she’s been the one to initiate the kiss? He thinks it might be, and it makes his knees wobble.

“You look beautiful,” he says, openly dragging his eyes over her, feeling grateful that he doesn’t have to hide it.

“Well, after the other day I’m sure anything is an improvement,” she comments self-deprecatingly.

He cups her chin in his hand, tilting her face up to look at his. “You are always beautiful. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life.”

She scoffs and looks away.

“You don’t have to try that hard, Mulder. You were already gonna get lucky,” she says playfully, pushing past him into the hallway.

He stands there for a moment, stunned by her candor and wondering what that means. Does that mean she wants to have sex? Or is she just referring to what they’ve already been doing?

“You coming?” she asks, and he snaps himself out of it, stepping into the hall so she can lock the door behind them. “Where are we going?” she asks, slipping her hand into his.

He has half a mind to ask if they should just spend the evening on her couch, but he resists.

“You’ll see,” he says with a smile, and gives her hand a squeeze.

When they park outside the Queen Vic she gives him a curious little glance, but doesn’t say anything. In the lobby, he leans in to ask the host for a particular table, speaking softly so she can't hear him. When the host leads them to the same table they’d sat at the last time they were here nearly a year ago, she smiles broadly, but again makes no comment. She orders the same IPA, and they both get fish and chips. So much is the same, and yet it’s so different; her foot hooked around his ankle under the table, the times she reaches out to touch his hand, the unabashed way she beams at him, laughing at his jokes and peeking at him from underneath her eyelashes. They drink, and eat, and talk. They talk about their childhoods and their teenage rebellions, she tells him how she gets through particularly rough autopsies and he tells her about the Gunmen and how they keep asking to meet her. It’s so easy between them, and so right, as it always has been. But now, his heart fills to bursting knowing that they can see this thing through, that he will later get to kiss that little mole above her lip that she tries to cover with makeup, feel her perfectly manicured fingernails scrape against his scalp. There’s so much more to learn about her, but he knows he will. They have another chance, and it makes him feel like he could cry just thinking about it.

After dinner, he drives them down to the wharf and they get ice cream cones from a little stand by the water; she picks cookies and cream and he opts for rocky road. They walk along the boardwalk hand in hand as the sun eases its way towards the horizon.

“Are you going to maintain control of your ice cream cone this time?” she asks with a smirk, the first mention she’s made of the fact that he’s replicating their first date.

“Well, a lot has changed since last time, however the fact that I can’t take my eyes off of you isn’t one of them, so the ice cream cone is still at risk,” he retorts, rotating his cone dramatically for effect.

She laughs, the sweetest sound he has ever or will ever hear, and he pulls her over to the rail that separates the walk from the water. She leans her back against it and he bends down to kiss her, holding his ice cream off to the side. She tastes sweet, her lips slightly chilled, and the kiss devolves into lapping tongues and soft moans unexpectedly quickly.

She puts her free hand on his chest and pushes gently until he pulls back, then smiles dreamily up at him, licking her lips.

“Should I expect an after-hours baseball session?” she asks coyly, and he frowns.

“No, sorry. Byers, that’s my buddy who got the keys last time, said there’s a private event going on there tonight,” he says regretfully.

“Oh, thank god,” she says with a relieved sigh, and he quirks his head at her quizzically. “The only thing I enjoyed about that, Mulder, was you pressing your body against mine, and now we can do that whenever we want, no batting practice facades necessary,” she says with a smile.

“That does sound a lot more fun than baseball,” he replies huskily, “and I really like baseball, Scully.”

“I know you do,” she says in a syrupy voice before she captures his bottom lip between her teeth.

“Are you done with your ice cream?” he asks, and she looks at her half-eaten cone before giving him a determined stare and nodding her head.

He squirms in his seat on the way back to her apartment, stealing glances at her across the console intermittently. She seems perfectly calm and not at all affected, and he wonders if he’s misreading the situation. His cock jumps a little, threatening to spread into a full fledged erection every time he lets his mind wander to what might happen next. He suddenly wonders if he should have brought a condom, but then assumes she probably has them. But what if she doesn’t? It’ll be fine, they don’t have to have sex tonight. But he’d really, really like to. It’s not until they are parked outside her building that it occurs to him that she hasn’t actually invited him up and, not wanting to be presumptuous, he doesn’t ask.

———

Mulder seems jumpy, nervous even, and she finds it mildly entertaining. She’s been toying with the idea of sleeping with him, but ultimately decided to just let things unfold how they would; he’s already clearly demonstrated his skill in the area of foreplay so she can be sure to have a good time whether or not sex is part of it. They pull up in front of her building and he sits there with the engine running, looking at her apprehensively. She smiles, and decides not to mess with him.

“You wanna come up?” she asks plainly, and he lets out a huge exhale.

“Absofuckinglutely,” he says, unbuckling his seat belt and killing the engine.

They make their way into her apartment, Mulder still acting awkward and uncomfortable, and she thinks that maybe should mess with him just a little.

“Make yourself at home,” she says, draping her purse over the back of a chair and kicking off her shoes, “I’ll be right back.”

He nods and sits on the couch, and she ducks into the bathroom. She’d worn a decently cute bra and panty set, but not the kind that can be classified as lingerie. After emptying her bladder and freshening up a bit, she sneaks into her bedroom and changes into a red lace thong and matching bra. She considers herself in the mirror, debating whether she should put the clothes she was wearing back on, or something else.

“Hey Scully?” She hears Mulder call through the crack in the open door.

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to watch a movie?”

Her mouth quirks, an idea taking shape.

“What?” she says in response, brushing her palms over her bare hips.

“Do you want me to put a movie on?” he repeats.

“I can’t hear you, Mulder, can you come in here?”

Her heart starts up a steady thrum of excitement, but she keeps her demeanor calm, watching her reflection and smiling at herself.

She hears the door open behind her.

“I was wondering if you wa-” he begins, then stops abruptly.

She can’t see him from this angle and she waits a beat before looking back over her shoulder. He still has his hand on the doorknob, his mouth hanging open mid sentence and his eyes hooded with desire. She glances down and sees him growing stiff under his jeans, the knowledge setting off a throb between her legs. She turns to face him, slowly crossing the room and threading her arms around his waist. As soon as they make contact, he puts his hands firmly on her hips and slides them down to cup her bare ass cheeks with a little groan.

“Do you want to watch a movie, Mulder?” she asks rhetorically, flexing her pelvis against him.

He shakes his head, stooping to lift her off the floor before he walks them over to her bed. Setting her down gently in the middle, he moves to hover over her and she bends her leg, planting a foot in the middle of his chest.

“You’re wearing way too much clothing,” she observes, then watches him as he strips off his shirt and jeans, standing before her in black boxer briefs. She hasn’t had a chance to really see his body yet and she sighs as she takes in his firm yet slim torso, muscular but not bulky. Her eyes wander down further to where his erection tents the fabric of his boxers, and she smiles. “You look good without clothes on,” she says softly, and he smirks self-consciously. She almost asks him to take the boxers off too, but decides not to deprive herself of the opportunity to do so, so she motions for him to join her on the bed instead.

He carefully crawls up beside her, lying on his side while she remains on her back. He reaches out tentatively to brush his palm over her belly, his eyes poring over every bit of skin he can see until they rest on her face. They hold eye contact for a beat and she reaches up to touch his neck, inviting him to kiss her. They start slowly, softly, and he trails from her lips to her cheek, down her neck until he’s dipping his tongue into the space between her breasts. His hands trace along the hem of her panties, brushing up over her knees and back down the inside of her thigh. His touch is soft and exploratory, igniting nerve endings and building anticipation for a firmer touch in a more exciting place. It’s a slow burn and she is happy to let him take his time.

He slips the tips of his fingers just beneath the hem of her panties and slides them back and forth from hip to hip.

“Can I take these off?” he asks, his teeth grazing her hardened nipple through her bra.

“Mmm, yes,” she answers.

He sits up and peels her panties slowly down her legs; the damp gusset is easily visible against the red fabric and she’s only had them on for about five minutes. When he reaches her feet, he plucks them off her ankles and bunches the fabric up in his palm, pressing it to his nose briefly before tossing it on the floor. She gives him a surprised smile but recognizes that even if she finds it a bit odd intellectually, it does turn her on.

He returns to his spot beside her and she rolls onto her side so that they are facing each other.

“Can I get some help here?” she asks in mock incompetence, tugging at the strap of her bra.

“Of course,” he answers in mock seriousness, reaching behind her to deftly unhook the band and watching as the cups slide away from her breasts.

He helps her pull the straps free of her arms, then sighs as he looks over her naked form.

“You look fucking amazing without clothes on,” he says, full of awe.

“Thank you,” she replies, tilting towards him until he has rolled onto his back, then hitching a leg over his hip, straddles him. Sitting fully nude on his lap, his erection pressing into her ass as he stares up at her with lustful eyes makes her feel like a goddess, like Aphrodite at the altar. She brings her hands up to gently cup her breasts and he groans, his fingers flexing against her thighs.

“Scoot up,” he commands, and she gives him a questioning look but does it, now planted on his chest with his sparse hairs tickling her damp lips.

“More,” he says, in an equally authoritative tone. Normally she wouldn't appreciate being ordered around like this, but the look on his face makes her want to comply.

She shifts her weight to her knees, preparing to scoot just a touch higher, when he threads his arms under her thighs and slides down, pressing his face into her vulva.

“Oh god!” she startles, totally caught off guard, and reaches one hand out to steady herself on the headboard.

For a moment she just perches there, out of her element as Mulder begins to flick his tongue across her clit before dragging it up and down over her lips. This isn’t something she’s ever done before and while it doesn’t feel bad, it doesn’t necessarily feel good, either; it’s hard to relax while holding herself up over him.

As if reading her mind, Mulder wraps his palms around the tops of her thighs and pulls her down hard until she is fully sitting on him, her weight no longer her own to support. She’s afraid she’s suffocating or hurting him, but then he starts humming and moaning against her like he’s enjoying the most delicious meal of his life and she realizes that this is exactly what he wanted; to be suffocated by her pussy. She leans forward and rests her head against her forearm, further relaxing and acclimating to the position.

Unlike the flicking and licking sensations of the typical position for cunnilingus, this affords more pressure and area of contact. Something, must be his tongue, is probing at her opening, flexing against her walls deliciously, while something else, perhaps teeth, scrapes gently against her clit. The more she relaxes into it, the better it feels, and the heavier she sits on him, the more he groans and sucks at her. She feels a slight rhythmic jostling and glances back to see that he’s freed his turgid hard-on from his boxers and is pumping up and down vigorously, and the image pushes her close to the edge. She drops her head back onto her arm and starts flexing her hips against his face, putting the pressure right where she wants it to be, and feels the tingle of an impending orgasm building in her toes. The more she moves and flexes against him, the more he moans and the harder he pumps, and the more she can tell that he is clearly getting off on this, the more turned on she becomes. The cycle builds and builds until it crests, the gathering pleasure bursting all at once as she comes hard against his mouth, his tongue tucked snugly inside her as she pulses around it, coming undone. Soon enough he cries out and she feels his cum spurt hot on her back, running down over her ass and pooling on his sternum.

As her own orgasm subsides, she suddenly feels like she’s made of jelly and slumps to the side, cringing in realization that the cum on her back is now on her comforter. She looks over at Mulder, his chin glistening as he breathes heavily, his eyes on the ceiling. She looks down at his spent cock, shrinking away from the pool of liquid it left behind.

“Well,” she says, “that was...different.”

He turns his head to the side and gives her a lopsided smile. “Was it?”

She shrugs. “That was a first for me,” she says shyly, feeling silly.

“Oh,” he says, clearly a little surprised but not unpleasantly so. “Well, what’d ya think?” he asks with an expectant look.

“Uh, it was...it was terrible, honestly,” she says, feigning a very business-like tone. “I hated it.”

He gives her a cheeky smile. “Oh, you did?”

She nods with a matter-of-fact look on her face.

“Do you normally come that hard when you hate things?” he asks curiously.

She grins at him then, done with the joke, and he grins back.

“Let me get you a towel,” he says, rolling off the bed carefully to contain the mess.

“And they say chivalry is dead,” she retorts, earning a chuckle.

After they have cleaned and re-dressed, they do end up watching a movie. She falls asleep halfway through, the comfort of his large frame wrapped around her making her feel so safe she can’t help but drift off. This time, she invites him to stay the night, and is delighted to find him wrapped around her again when she wakes in the morning.

[angryschnauzer]

Overnight

Summary: It may have been a mistake to get off the highway, your car breaking down on an abandoned back road. But just in time a tow truck appears, and the mechanics garage isn't far away... but when you find out the parts will be delivered overnight, you storm off towards town... and somehow find yourself where you least expect.

Pairing: AU Mechanic Chris Evans x Female Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Dubious Consent, AU, Greasy Mechanic Chris, Backroads Fic, Unprotected Sex, Thunderstorms, Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Anal Sex, unprotected anal sex, Sloppy Seconds, Kitchen Sex, Dark Chris, Slightly Creepy Fic

A/N: This is a slightly twisted story, i wouldn’t say it was ‘dark’, but it does have a slightly sinister undertone. I’m also tagging it as dub-con (dubious consent) as although reader never says no, she is never asked either. This is very much a work of fiction, and i urge the reader to take responsibility for their online consumption, so ensure you read the warnings before reading and then only proceed once you have accepted what this story may contain. It is not a light and fluffy fic.

I do not operate a tag list, but you can follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications, as every time i post a story i will reblog there. I have too many stories to do a masterlist, but you can find my entire back catalgoue on AO3 through THIS LINK.

A while back i also wrote a Seb AU Mechanic fic, and here is the link for that: Caught In The Storm

Overnight

You should NOT have turned off the interstate. Sure, you would be stuck in bumper to bumper tailbacks in the searing heat, but surely it would have been better than this. The further you’d driven, the worse your car had sounded, the metallic clanking sound getting louder and louder the further you drove. Something made a loud THUD and you felt the power steering go, and glancing in your rear-view mirror a large oil patch was appearing behind your car as it slowly started to cough and splutter, before coasting to a halt on the side of the cracked road. As the engine died you thumped the steering wheel, cursing and screaming at the broken piece of junk, before with heavy limbs you pulled yourself from the car. 

 Standing on the rough gravel at the side of the road, your hands on your hips, you glowered at the car, a faint hiss of steam coming from beneath the hood. The sun beat down and you could feel the heat of the day sinking into your bones, gnats and midges trying to gnaw at your skin as you slapped them angrily away. Dark clouds grew on the horizon but did little to obscure the beating sun high above you. 

 Checking your cell phone you weren’t surprised to see the no service icon, you were in the middle of nowhere, more likely to be dragged into the surrounding swamp and eaten by god knows what than to be able to call anyone. Just as you were lamenting your woes, the sound of an old diesel engine came rumbling to yours ears, and glancing down the road you saw an ancient tow truck coming into view. Standing in the road you waved your arms to flag the vehicle down; even if it couldn’t help then maybe it could take you to a working phone.

 The truck came to a stop in front of your car, and as the engine cut off and the driver’s door opened, you felt your body go tight. The man that climbed down from the cab looked like sin on a Sunday, long denim clad legs striding towards you, ball cap on backwards doing little to shade his face from the pounding sunshine, and a t-shirt that seemed to be painted onto his broad chest and wide shoulders;

 “In a spot of trouble there darlin’?”

 You let out a huff, you weren’t about to let some back roads hick try and charm his way into your panties… though said panties were suddenly becoming damper by every second he stood close to you. Shaking your head, you stood tall and puffed your chest out;

 “My car has died. If I could borrow your phone to call Triple A, I haven’t got any signal on mine…”

 The guy looked you up and down, his gaze resting on your chest as a bead of perspiration ran down your neck and between your breasts, his tongue darting out to wet his lips;

 “AAA don’t come out here, its subcontracted out to us locals. I’m on my way back to the garage now if you want a tow Sweetheart?”

 Letting out a deep sigh you nodded, returning to your car to grab your purse as the man started to unreel the towing line and called out to you;

 “Hop up into the cab Princess, this won’t take a moment”

 Rolling your eyes at the pet names you bit your tongue; the guy was after all helping you out. Gripping the handle of the tow trucks door you looked down at the old worn paintwork ‘Evans Autos’. You quickly fished your phone out of your bag and snapped a shot, setting it to upload to the iCloud once you got in range of any signal… at least that way if this greasy backroads mechanic chopped you into little pieces you had left a trail of evidence. 

 Pulling the door open you let out a small yelp when you came face to face with a big brown dog sitting on the passenger seat;

 “Scoot!”

 The dog looked at you with utter disdain, and firmly remained sat on the seat. Waving your hands a little you frowned at it;

 “C’mon, scoot over!”

 Over the sound of the towing winch whining at it pulled your car up onto the truck, you heard the mechanic call out;

 “You’ll have to climb over Dodge… he likes the window seat”

 Turning back to the big mutt you could have sworn it had a smug ‘so there’ look on its face, and as you climbed up and around the dog, you sat in the middle of the wide bench seat. Looking around you couldn’t find any seatbelts, so just sat with your hands firmly clasped in your lap. The sounds of lockers being shut hit your ears before the driver’s door opened and the mechanic climbed into the seat next to you and grinned;

 “Best hold on Babe, it’s a bumpy ride to the garage”

 “I’ll be fine, thanks” you muttered as he gunned the engine and pulled away.

 -

 He hadn’t been lying; the roads were atrocious. With each bump and pothole you were bounced closer to him, the dog the other side of you seemingly able to spread out across not only his seat but part of yours. You could have sworn the mechanic was aiming for every single bump possible just to be able to watch your breasts bounce as the truck hit each stone. 

 With each jolt and jiggle your thigh was pressed closer and closer against his, and when the truck hit a huge hole in the road you felt yourself almost  lifted from the seat, suddenly pinned back by his strong arm quickly thrown across your torso to hold you down and from slipping from the seat. The skin of his tattooed bicep was pressed against the exposed neckline and chest, his scent invading your senses; a warm spicy aftershave and motor oil and gasoline. You could feel your panties getting wetter as your legs parted so you could plant your feet on the dusty floor of the truck but it did little to alleviate the aching between your thighs. 

 Finally he slowed the truck and turned the wheel into a sharp left-hand turn, the truck bouncing along a gravel driveway until an old wooden auto shop came into view. Pulling the truck to a stop he climbed out, holding his hand out for you;

 “Dodge likes to sleep in the cab…”

 Rolling your eyes you took his hand and climbed out as gracefully as you could, your short sundress sticking to the seat before you yanked it down to retain what was left of your dignity;

 “So Babycakes, there’s a coupla’ chairs round the side if you want to take a seat whilst I look at your car, and an icebox on the counter just inside the shop, help yourself to a water”

 “Umm, thanks”

 -

 You glanced at the time on your phone. You’d been waiting three hours; the sound of your car being taken to pieces by the mechanic was all you’d heard for most of that time. The only thing that seemed to have changed in those three hours was the humidity rising and the storm clouds coming closer. Rising to your feet you stretched your limbs and turned the corner of the auto shop, glancing at the mechanic as he lay on the floor below your sorry looking car as it was raised on the hydraulic lift;

 “Sir?”

 “Chris”

 “What?”

 “It’s Chris, not Sir…”

 “Ok, Chris. Do you know how much longer it’ll be?”

 Chris pulled himself out from beneath your car, wiping his hands on a rag that was hanging from the back pocket of his jeans;

 “For today, I’ll probably be done in an hour…”

 “Great!”

 “... but I need to overnight the parts I need, so it won’t be ready until tomorrow”

 “What? When were you going to tell me that?”

 “I’ve just ordered the parts Honey”

 You let out a grunt of frustration;

 “Fine. I’ll be back tomorrow… you could have told me sooner”

 You turned on your heel and started to walk away;

 “Where ya’ goin’?”

 “To find a motel, or a guesthouse, or somewhere to stay at!”

 “On foot?!”

 “YES!”

 -

 You had stormed off, anger driving your feet as your white sneakers slowly got covered in brown dust that puffed up from the gravel driveway with every step you took towards the road. Finally you reached the cracked asphalt, taking a sharp right-hand turn and you started along the road. By now the humidity was hanging in the air and it felt like you were walking through soup. Even the midges had given up, their tiny wings not strong enough to cut through the cloying stillness. The sun was now obscured by dark clouds, but you continued on. Finally a crossroads came into view, and you willed your heat-tired muscles to push on, coming to the sign and stopping. The shortest distance was to take a right, so scrambling over the accumulated gravel you continued your journey. 

 -

 An hour later your legs were weary. Your dress clung to your skin as sweat beaded across your brow, down your chest and back. You held your arms out as you walked, hoping just by moving they would cool your skin, but having little affect.

 Finally a small house came into view, further buildings behind it mostly hidden by trees. The hair on your arms stood on end with Goosebumps and you could smell petrichor on the air, you knew the storm was about to break. Quickening your step you found the energy to trot down the rest of the way, past the worn mailbox with most of the letters worn away, the last three just spelling out ‘van’, but you were oblivious, the first raindrop hitting your skin and you sprinted towards the house. 

 By the time you reached the porch the parts of your dress that weren’t stuck to your skin due to sweat were doing so thanks to the rain. A crack of thunder boomed as a flash of lightning lit the sky, and as you cowered under the porch you heard a bark and a very wet brown dog suddenly ran for cover, shivering on the doorstep. Another crack of thunder made you jump, and the dog cowered against you, you crouching down to wrap your arms around the scared creature. Looking at the name tag that hung from its collar you read it; ‘Dodger’, and your heart plummeted to your stomach. Before you could even fathom what had happened, a familiar voice was behind you;

 “You were walking over an hour and you still manage to find your way back here?”

 Turning you looked out to the lawn where Chris stood, the rain pouring over him, his t-shirt stuck to every curve of his body and his jeans hanging low on his narrow hips. Slowly striding towards you he wiped the rain from his face as he stepped under the porch, reaching around you and opening the door to the small cabin;

 “You took a right and another right, didn’t ya?”

 “How did you…?”

 “Well, if you hadn’t stormed off in a huff, I woulda told you to turn left at the end of the driveway. Instead walked a giant triangle and found yourself back here”

 You let out a strangled noise, not quite a cry, not quite a scream, before your body sagged;

 “Can you… can you give me a ride into town?”

 “Nope”

 “No?!”

 “The town is tiny. All we got is a church, a market, and a drug store. Nearest motel ain’t for thirty miles, and you wouldn’t wanna stay there… unless you like cockroaches”

 You could feel your bottom lip quiver, trying to hold back the tears before Chris’s voice softened;

 “I got a couch you can stay on, no funny business, no obligations…”

 He was close, so close. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, and you found your mouth moving before your brain could stop it;

 “What if I wanted funny business?”

 There was no more preamble, no more hesitating, he stepped forwards, one hand cupping the back of your neck, the other on your waist as he pulled your body flush against his own, his lips meeting yours.

 The kiss was fierce, your mouth willingly opening as his tongue pushed against your own, dancing together as you tasted one another. His hand on your hip pulled at your dress, curling it up in his fingers until your skin was there to touch, his large hand gripping the soft cheek of your ass. He pushed you back, the hardness of the wooden clapperboards of his cabin rough against your skin, but you were blissfully unaware of it. He pressed one leg between yours and you ground your hips against the firm denim clad muscle of his thigh, in turn the thick hardness that was growing between your bodies he rubbed against your hip, moaning into your mouth as the friction helped release some of the tension that had built during the day. 

 Snaking a hand between your bodies, your dress had already ridden up so he was easily able to slide a hand into your panties, leaving streaks of motor oil across the pale fabric as he sought out your clit. Pushing two wide fingers down he found your soaked entrance and gathered some of your wetness, before bringing his fingers back and rubbing firm circles against your sensitive bud. His lips parted from yours, resting his forehead to your own for a moment you panted into his mouth, the air between you hot and thick, before those kiss plump lips make their way to your neck, sucking and licking at your jugular as his beard scratched against your skin. 

 Your head lolled back and rested against the wooden side of the building, the storm raging around you as you felt your orgasm starting to build. Your hands clung to Chris’s strong arms, his skin patterned with tattoos that you yearned to run your fingertips over tenderly. Your body started to shake, your orgasm growing closer as that coil in the pit of your stomach wound ever tighter, your hand finding its way to the firm bulge that was pressing against your hip, and as you squeezed the hot muscle through the denim you started to come, Chris’s mouth finding your own against as he swallowed your cries of passion. 

 He stilled his fingers as you trembled against him, quickly unfastening the buttons of his fly and pushing the garment down just enough to free his thick cock, taking hold of your thighs as he lifted you.  With strong hands he gripped at your panties before ripping them from your body, the ruined pieces of cotton falling to the floor at your feet. You felt the wide tip press against your still trembling entrance and with a grunt he thrust into you, filling you completely as you screamed out his name.

 You clung to him as he started to fuck you roughly against the wall, the wet sounds of your bodies meeting being drowned out by the storm now wild overhead. With each thrust your body was sent to heavy, the thick stretch of him inside you making your legs tremble as he held one leg over his hip, letting you try and keep the other held up as he pawed at your breasts, pulling your dress and bra down until you spilled out, your tits bouncing with each of his powerful thrusts. 

 No words were spoken, your moans the only thing that could leave your lips as Chris fucked you so hard you were sure you’d never be able to close your legs again and made roadkill of your pelvis with his powerful thrusts. You were trembling around him and you were getting closer and closer to coming again. His lips were on your neck again and muttering the dirtiest things in your ear;

 “Are you gonna cum on my cock babe? Make me fill you with my cum until its dripping down your legs… you’re squeezing me so damn tight, gonna pump you full then take you inside, make you sit on my face, would you like that? Wanna feel my tongue on your cunt?”

 “Oh fuck… Chris, yes… fuck, keep going…”

 He laughed quietly before picking up speed, the slapping sound of his heavy sac against your ass filling your ears as the wide root of his cock rubbed and dragged against your clit. With a grind of his hips you were coming, your fingernails clinging to his back as you shook with pleasure, triggering his own orgasm as he pumped hot ropes of creamy seed deep within your womb.

 Holding you against the wall, he kissed you, his tongue working against your own before he slowly pulled out of you, letting your feet fall to the floor. Your head swam from the pleasure surging through your body, only partially aware of Chris pulling his jeans up enough to keep them on his hips before he wrapped his arms around your waist and threw you over his shoulder, carrying you inside.

 Moments later you were being dropped onto a large bed, the covers messy from when the previous occupant had simply gotten up and dressed that morning, and you watched as Chris stripped his soaked clothes from his body before crawling onto the bed, his gaze feral as he pressed a line of kisses up your sternum before his lips found yours again. His fingers worked deftly against the ties of your wrap summer dress, pulling it open and helping you to wriggle out of it; all whilst his lips never left yours. 

 Finally he pulled away, his strong arms bulging as he flipped you over and pulled your hips up until you were resting on your knees. His wide tongue pulled a thick stripe through your cum soaked folds, from clit to asshole, before grinding his face against your crotch. His tongue was everywhere, sucking on your clit before moving to your well fucked entrance, then moving up and pressing against the tight ring of muscle between your asscheeks. With more insistence he pushed his tongue against your back door and you sighed into the old sheets below you, your fingers curling in the cotton as he slid two thick fingers into your soaked channel whilst his tongue worked against your asshole. When his thumb found your clit a shockwave bolted through you, your scream into the mattress from sheer pleasure as you unashamedly ground back against him, moaning his name as your legs shook. He pulled his mouth away and spat on your asshole, working a finger in up to the knuckle and you started to cum, his fingers in your cunt rubbing against that spongy spot whilst his thumb worked figure eights over your clit, and you found yourself squirting your release as you screamed with pleasure.

 You were aware of Chris pulling away, your body trembling and fluid in the prone position. You heard the quiet click of the cap of a bottle before a cool viscous liquid was slowly spread over your ass. The touch of Chris’s fingers exploring your most hidden of places had you pushing back against his touch, relaxing as he slid two oiled fingers slowly into your ass, massaging you, stretching you. By now you were drooling, your tongue working against the cotton sheet as you bore down as he pushed a third finger into your ass, the quiet squirt of more oil being applied directly inside you had you knowing what was coming, and humming a low moan as you felt his fingers pull away only to be replaced with the well-oiled fat crown of his cock. 

 Turning your head you watched as he pushed the wide mushroom into your tight ring of muscle, groaning as your secret walls gripped him so hard. His large hands pulled your cheeks apart and he spat on his dick as he started to push into you, filling you, parting your walls with his meaty girth. You could feel every vein and ridge as he pushed harder, reaching around and rubbing at your clit whilst he rocked his hips back and forth before he was finally balls deep in your ass. 

 “So fuckin’ good, feel so tight around my dick Baby, taking me so well... “

 His mouth was as dirty as you had hoped, praising you for taking his dick in your ass as he started to fuck you, pushing his legs open to widen your own and allow him in even deeper. Your hands scrambled at the covers trying to find something to grip onto, some sort of purchase, before he was suddenly pulling your arms behind your back and gripping your wrists with his massive hands. Folding your arms across your sweat drenched back he used them to anchor himself as he fucked your ass even harder, pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you as your empty cunt ached to be filled. As if reading your thoughts - or you could even have said it aloud, who knows you were so high on pleasure - he grasped your arms in one large hand before curling the other arm beneath you, pushing three fingers into your soaked pussy as he fucked your ass so hard you doubted you’d be able to sit down for a week without feeling it.

 “Fuck… gonna cum Baby, gonna fill this ass with cum so deep…”

 “Yes... Chris, FUCK, fuck my ass, I want your cum…”

 “My fucking gorgeous anal cum slut, your cunt is gorgeous, but I’m gonna fuck this ass from now on… never had an ass this good, this tight… gonna have you gaping by the time I’ve finished with you… my cum dripping down your legs, gonna make sure you never wear panties again, need you ready for me to bend you over and push my dick up this tight ass to fill you with another load…”

 Your orgasm took over, gripping Chris’s dick and fingers so hard it set his orgasm off, a second wave of your orgasm so intense that as you felt your body milking Chris, the room went dark and you blacked out.

 -

 The room was dark, the sound of rain outside soothing to your ears as you tried to figure out where you were, then snippets of your memory came back; your car, the garage, Chris… the storm… fucking him… Turning you saw him quietly asleep beside you, you winced as your muscles protested against moving, but the need for water and the bathroom was too much as you quickly slipped out of the room. 

 Having found the bathroom, you attempted to clean yourself up a little before walking through the small cabin to the kitchen, taking a glass from the counter before filling it and drinking the whole thing at the sink and filling it again. Two warm hands wrapped themselves around your naked body from behind, warm lips and a rough beard found your neck and Chris started to kiss along your shoulders, his hands finding your naked breasts as he cupped them whilst grinding his hard dick into the crease of your ass. Setting the glass down you spread your legs a little wider, and a warm hum of appreciation reverberated through Chris’s chest as he dipped his hips whilst pushing you forwards over the old porcelain sink, the smooth crown of his dick pushing against your used asshole, and you felt the pop as he sank into your cum soaked walls.

 Groaning as you leaned forwards and gripped the cool porcelain, you opened yourself up for him as he ploughed into your murky depths, his thick thighs pushing your legs wide apart before he lifted one of your knees until it was resting on the countertop, your other foot only just reaching the floor as you were stood on your toes, Chris fucking your ass harder this time, gripping your hips as he filled you again and again. His hands moved to your breasts and he pinched your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, rolling the hardened teats until they were painfully hard. Snaking his hands up your front he wrapped his fingers over your shoulders so he could pull you back onto him harder, his thrusts increasing in speed. Your cunt was leaking juices down your inner thighs, and with each thrust his heavy sac would slap against it, reminding you of its emptiness, and you found yourself begging;

 “Chris please… fill my pussy…”

 Chuckling he pulled one hand down and spat on it before pushing three fingers into you, all whilst continuing to fill your ass with his fat cock;

 “You like that? You like having all your holes stuffed? You’re just begging to be filled, used, fucked…”

 “Oh fuck… harder… fuck me harder…”

 With a grunt he increased the speed of his thrusts, the front of your thighs pushing painfully against the sink, your leg muscles screaming at the way you were stretched wide open, but the pleasure was too intense to stop, you needed it, you needed the release.

 You came again and Chris fucked you straight through it, somehow finding the skill to fuck you even harder, sliding a fourth finger into your slick channel as he stretched you so wide. Your head swam, the sound of the storm outside closing the world in around you, and as you came again so did he, filling your ass with another load of his cum.

 Afterwards he carried you to his bed, wrapping his hard body around yours as you fell into a dreamless sleep, the reality of the world far far away.

 -

 Handing over the keys you smiled at Chris as you took them from him. Your body ached and was sore beyond belief, but it was certainly a night to remember. You had slept in until well past midday, only waking when your stomach had growled from not eating anything. Picking at some leftovers in Chris’s fridge, you’d found your soaked sundress draped over the back of a kitchen chair, pulling it on you shivered at the damp touch of the fabric before you’d stepped out of the cabin and found Chris fitting the parts he’d had on overnight delivery to your car. The bill had been more than you had expected - the parts costing more than you had in your purse - so when Chris had smirked at you and suggested an alternative payment, you had sighed with pleasure as he’d fucked you bent over the hood of your car, his dick filling your cunt as he had three fingers stretching your ass. You’d cum so hard you were left shaking, and he had pulled out just before he came only to push an inch into your ass and fill you with another load of his cum.

 With your keys in hand you kissed him, your tongues sloppy before you pulled away just as the sound of tyres could be heard on the rough gravel of his driveway, another tow truck pulling up alongside Chris’s. 

 Sitting in your car you gave him a wave as you pulled away, watching the garage disappear into the distance before you turned your attention onto the road ahead, pulling out onto the dry again asphalt, another summer storm starting to gather on the horizon.

 -

 Not thirty minutes later you were standing at the side of the road, kicking the flat tyre before screaming out at the sky in frustration. You checked your cell phone, groaning when you saw the out of service sign, before stashing it back in your purse. 

 The sound of an old diesel engine could be heard in the distance, and you looked up to the sky before closing your eyes;

 “No… it can’t be…”

 Taking a deep breath with your eyes still closed, you heard the engine get closer until it came to an idle beside you, and familiar voice greeting you;

 “Baby… you need a ride?”

 Chris hopped out of the cab, slipping his hand beneath your dress and giving your ass a squeeze;

 “Gotta watch out for that sharp gravel, it’ll blow tyres out real bad…”

 -

 Sitting in the cab you watched as Chris hooked your car back onto the tow truck, before ducking back inside the truck, this time just the two of you;

 “Where’s Dodger?”

 “Sleeping on the porch… Now, we’re gonna have to order you a new tyre Baby…”

“Let me guess, it’ll be delivered overnight?”

 He leant back and started to unbutton his jeans;

 “You never got to taste my dick last night… how about you try it now whilst I finger that ass ready for the next round? Huh Baby?”

 Settling onto your knees on the wide seat, you took him into your mouth, sucking him as he started the truck, unaware of the rusty nail that he dropped into the pocket of the door, a small piece of tyre rubber still attached to it… he’d found you, and he wasn’t about to let you drive off into the sunset...

[animeheadcannoncentral]

NSFW ENJI (Endeavor) X READER ONESHOT

Business/CEO A/B/O AU - this just popped into my head and turned into a 10 Chapter fic you can read on Ao3: “Hidden Flowers”

Warnings: smut, Dom Enji, sub reader, rough sex, A/B/O dynamics, alpha Enji, omgega reader, alpha Toshinori, heat cycles, dirty talk

Words: 5k

(Y/N) checked her emails one final time, ensuring nothing new had come through in the last three minutes that needed her boss’s attention. She picked up the file she had organised for the day, shuffling the papers into a neat stack before rising to her feet, straightening out her clothes and marching towards the CEO’s office. She opened the door without knocking, an action that he had told her to forego many years ago, she was his secretary after all, if she had something urgent to tell him, there was no point in wasting time knocking on the door. And he also didn’t need to burden of someone knocking on his door fifty times a day. The red head was on the phone when she entered, this scene wasn’t uncommon, some days he scarcely got away from the damn thing.

Closing the door behind her, she walked up to his desk and placed the pile of papers down on his right before walking to a white board and started neatly writing out the day’s major meetings.

“I don’t care about the cost, how long will it take to get it up and running again?” Enji sighed into the phone as he noted down the time frame.

“Is there another company that can fix it faster?” she turned back and saw he was looking at her. He’d asked both her and the person on the other end of the call, he just knew she’d come up with a solution faster.

“Mack Plus have the best engineers, Trencher Co. will be quickest but they fixed that unit previously and it’s broken again, I would suggest Wheels Down Inc as nothing they’ve fixed has broken again and it will be fixed within the week” she spilled out, she’d read the email about the mining vehicle break down this morning and immediately looked at the data for previous break downs. The man nodded and wrote it down, whilst also rolling his eyes at whoever was on the other end of the call.

“(Y/N) will send through contact details for further correspondence with Wheels Down Inc, let me know once the machine’s operating again” and the CEO hung up.

“Fucking useless” Enji muttered as he started going through his emails, “got any good news?” he asked.

“Stocks are up again today?” she tried which resulted in a small smirk from him.

“And you only have one meeting currently locked in today as well, however it is with a major shipping company that we’ve been trying to create a deal with for the past five years” she frowned a little at the last part.

“I said good new (Y/N), not mediocre news” he sighed.

“It’s their new CEO, so I guess a new chance to make good impressions” she tried again.

“That’s why I’m putting you on the front line”

“I’ll do my best Sir” putting the whiteboard marker down and turning back to him.

“Have you found anything of use in Yagi’s background?” he asked as he started going through the files she had left on his desk.

“Nothing of particular use. The problem is he seems completely different to his father, since he’s taken leadership, the company has become heavily involved in charity work. Regardless of whether it was his intention or not, the shipping company has gained a huge amount of positive press. I found nothing on Yagi himself, the only thing you can really play into in this deal is the ‘make the world a better place’ because even after a deep dive on his history, I couldn’t find anything to suggest he wants anything else” she explained with a shrug.

“How do our eco stats look?” he questioned.

“Favourable, we’ve cut emissions by seventy-five percent with the new machine’s we’re using, and with the new sonar tech that’s been implemented we’ve reduced habitat loss due to our companies’ procedures by nearly ninety percent. The rest of the report is on page five” she was confident as he went through the papers and pulled out the report.

“Increase public profile” the red head raised an eyebrow at the short list of suggestions she had made.

“It can’t hurt Sir, becoming more involved with the local community could see a potential increase of upwards of twenty percent in sales”.

“At what cost?” he put the paper aside, knowing she would be able to give him a clearer answer than the document.

“Time, funding, man power” she was curt, the CEO didn’t like wishy washy explanations.

“The board won’t like that” it was a statement.

“Can’t make an omelette and all that” she shrugged and he eyed her. She had never been wrong when it came to giving suggestions or advice on what was best for the company. She would voice her opinion on occasion, when she knew she was completely in the right. It was one of the many reasons Enji kept her as his secretary and refused to promote her to a section manager, not to mention the ridiculous bonuses that he forked out to her at the end of each year for her work. She were too goddamn valuable, and unlike many of his employees, she wasn’t afraid of him. The alpha was used to people grovelling at his feet, begging and pleading for whatever it was that they wanted at the time, usually sex or money, even employment. Enji Todoroki was one of the strongest alpha’s out there, hell, he was so intoxicating some alphas had even begged him to use them. But she wasn’t like them, it was almost as if she couldn’t smell pheromones, he was almost convinced that she in fact couldn’t, going by the amount that he had released around her in the beginning to test her.

When he’d first met her, he was shocked by her professionalism, she didn’t seem to care that he was an alpha and she wasn’t deterred when he borderline threatened her during the job interview. Hell, he didn’t even know what her secondary gender was, her CV states that she’s a beta, but the way she acted sometimes, she could convince anyone she was born an alpha. She wouldn’t take shit from anyone, and she certainly wouldn’t let him dish it out to her either, or if he did, she’d give it straight back and usually be right, and always got away with it. It’s why he respected her so much and hadn’t tried to come onto her once, also because he was more attracted to submissives, and she were far from it. She took suppressants, that much he was sure off, she never smelled like anything, and she didn’t give off any scent at all, ever.

“When’s the meeting?” he asked.

“In thirty minutes” she said as she turned to leave.

“You better get to it then” he mused.

“You don’t have to tell me twice” she gave a small smile and then exited the room. She made her way down to the lobby of the building to greet Mr Yagi on his arrival, just in case he was early. And wouldn’t you know it, this ball of sunshine was always early. He walked through the front doors to the building not two minutes after she had walked out of the elevator. She lifted her shoulders, stood up straight and approached the man with confidence.

“Mr Yagi, I’m (Y/N), Mr Todoroki’s secretary, it’s an honour to meet you” she put on a bright smile upon reaching him and what must have been his secretary. It wasn’t until she reached them that she realised how god damn tall the man was in person. Sure, Enji was tall, but for some reason, this man’s height stuck out to her. And they were both businessmen, so how the fuck did they both luck out in the looks, smarts, height and muscles departments?! It just wasn’t fair. Forget about triple threat, these men were quadruple threats. They covered all fronts.

Then to her surprise, he actually offered her a hand to shake with a genuine smile.

“Thank you for greeting us, this is my secretary Izuku, we’re so glad Enji was kind enough to host this meeting” his voice was deep, but kind and polite as she shook his hand, referring to the greenette beside him. She glanced at the young man before returning her attention back to the alpha in front of her.

She had never met a business partner this kind-hearted before, the business world didn’t usually allow his kind to thrive, but here he was, the CEO of the world leading shipping company. Without even realising it her cheeks flushed a light shade of red and she felt her heart rate increase, and of course, her scent glands started aching as they tried to release pheromones. Luckily, her suppressants were working for now, but it was then that she caught his scent, everything went blurry for a second and she lost focus.

“Are you alright Ms (Y/N)?” he asked, gently stabilizing her by her shoulders. She cursed herself, why did her body have to react to an alpha now of all times?

“I’m so sorry, Mr Yagi, and (Y/N) is just fine” she smiled up at him, puffing out her chest a bit and stabilising her footing.

“Please, call me Toshinori” he corrected her and she was slightly stunned for a moment. Every single business partner she’d ever introduced had always treated her like trash on the side walk, scarcely giving her the time of day. She’d be lucky if she even got a grunt of acknowledgment from them.

“If you’d kindly follow me” she said and turned to lead the way. Taking the chance to scoff at herself and attempt to pull herself together, an attempt that miserably failed when Mr Yagi insisted on maintaining small talk then entire elevator ride. He was just being a human being, asking how her day was going, how long she’s been working at the company, if she enjoyed working here. She could feel her temperature rising with each question he asked, and pain started erupting in her abdomen.

“Please follow me” she said politely, stepping out of the elevator cursing herself, she was going into her heat early, and she was pretty damn sure it was because of the presence of this alpha. She guided the CEO and his secretary to an empty meeting room.

“Please wait in here for just a moment, Mr Todoroki will join you shortly” she said before closing the door. Her head was starting to spin and the pain was growing from annoying to uncomfortable ridiculously fast. She maintained her composure as she walked into her small office, quickly taking some pain killers with half a litre of water. She ruffled through her draws as she looked for her EpiPen, her heart skipping a beat when she couldn’t find it. She knew she had one here for emergencies. The omega let out a sigh of relief when her hand glided over it. Quickly removing the cap and injecting herself with more suppressors that would hopefully stop the effects of her early oncoming heat for at least the next few hours. She took three deep breaths before exiting her office and entering Enji’s.

As soon as the door opened, a wave of pheromones hit the CEO. His brow furrowed in anger. His employees knew better than to come to work during rutting or heat cycles, it decreased everyone’s productivity.

“Get the fuck out of…” his eyes had been fixed on the computer when he glanced at the intruder. “…(Y/N)?” he looked taken aback. There was no way she was an omega. She always held herself like an alpha, how the hell was this strong, independent woman a fucking omega? However, he couldn’t deny that her scent was causing blood to flow straight to his cock.

“But you’re not supposed to be off til next week” he went to check his calendar.

“I know, it’s come on early” she let out a stuttered sigh as the drugs finally started to set in.

“I’ve taken some emergency suppressors, my hormones should level out in the next minute or so. I um, Toshi… I mean, Mr Yagi and his secretary are in the meeting room” she shook her head at herself. It was then that everything clicked for Enji and a smile crossed his face as he rose from his seat.

“He’s sent you into an early heat, hasn’t he?” the alpha’s voice was low, but there was a hint of playfulness behind it. She ground her teeth, refusing to answer the question, instead choosing to look away. He approached her, a smirk still playing on his lips, instead of walking through the door, he shut it, as he caged her between his arms.

“You know better than to not respond when I ask you a question, omega” he let the work hang in the air, testing her boundaries. Her brow furrowed and she glared up at him.

“You don’t get to call me that” she growled at him, then noticing that he was purposely releasing pheromones to try and rile her up. If she hadn’t just shot herself up with enough suppressants for a week, she would probably have slick running down to her ankles by now. Her boss was unfairly attractive.

“Answer the question (Y/N)” he leaned close to whisper into her ear.

“So, what if he has?” she burst out, ducking out from under his arms and walking across the room, folding her arms, “All he did was smile at me and I lose control, what the fuck is wrong with me?” she sighed angrily rubbing her temples.

“When was the last time you properly went through a heat?” Enji asked her, she looked back at him to see a genuinely concerned face. When she had taken her mandatory time off for her mating cycle she never stopped responding to emails, most people wouldn’t touch their computers during the height of a mating cycle, it all became too much, but she was always online, which told him that she probably hadn’t let her body go through a normal cycle in a while.

“I don’t know, during high school, like eight or nine years ago” she shrugged and the CEO just blinked at her in shock.

“I had more important things on my mind” she shied away from his judging look.

“That’s still a long time” he pushed.

“It’s not like I had an alpha to help me through one!” she suddenly shouted at him, she stared him down for a moment before realising what she’d just said and who she had just said it to.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, that’s not your fault, nor something you should worry about, fuck I hate this” she muttered.

“(Y/N), be honest with me, have you ever been through a proper heat?” he asked, when she turned to him this time, there was nothing but concern in his face.

“No” she didn’t make eye contact with him, but she had no reason to lie to him. Enji hated how submissive she was being, this wasn’t her at all, while a dark part of him did want her begging for his cock, he hated seeing her looking so vulnerable, he wanted to protect her, to make her feel safe.

“Look, I’m going to be really selfish now, but if you think you can handle staying for the meeting then I could really use your help. If not, I’m also more than happy for you to go home. But you’re going home before lunch today either way and I strongly advise you don’t take any more suppressants” he paused for a moment, as if trying to word something correctly, “What I’m about to say, I’m saying as a friend, not your boss, if you need help getting through it, i can help you. But who knows, maybe you might actually be able to get his number and he can help you” the alpha growled slightly at that last part, admitting and acknowledging that he wasn’t the one to set off your heat. Although to be fair, he hadn’t purposefully released any pheromones around you since you had your job interview with him. The girl let out a sigh and composed herself, straightening out her shoulders.

“I’m staying for the meeting” he knew she would, “but I am not going through a full heat” she said firmly, walking past him.

“(Y/N)!” he was about to say more, but she had already walked out the door, heading towards the meeting room. She opened the door and put a smile on.

“So sorry to keep you waiting” she apologised.

“That’s quite alright” Toshinori smiled back at her, however he noticed that she was no longer producing the lovely pheromones that he knew he had set off. Was the girl taking suppressors? He was certain he had set off an early heat, that fact that she was supressing it frustrated him. He loved seeing a flustered omega, especially one who was normally kept together as this one appeared to be. She was going to pose a challenge, and Toshinori was going to have fun pulling her apart and turning her into his little slut. The thought had him half hard in his pants. This omega was going to belong to him, one way or another.

Enji followed her into the room. The two CEO’s shook hands and introduced themselves to each other before commencing the meeting. (Y/N) was a sharp as ever, handing Enji the correct documents when they came up in conversation and was able to provide any information when called upon. Izuku wasn’t as sharp as she was, but still maintained a professional standard and look about him, the boy certainly didn’t let the woman’s sheer dominance fluster him. The meeting went as well as it could have, they both signed a contract of partnership, so it went better than both parties were expecting. Seeing her in action just made Toshinori want her more. She was professional, sharp and confident, and he wanted to be the one to own her, to see her trembling underneath him, begging for his cock. Somehow, all four of them managed to remain professional throughout the entire meeting, there were no sly words with hidden meaning, and (Y/N) was thankful for that.

Enji Todoroki was never one to escort his guests out himself, it just wasn’t a thing that he did. So, he left the meeting as he usually would with a ‘pleasure doing business with you’, but he purposefully changed the wording on the following sentence ‘my secretary will get you anything you need before you go’. She burned holes into his back as he exited the room. She was going to kill him. The next morning’s headlines would read, ‘Secretary jailed for attempted murder of her boss’. She sighed, shaking her head slightly.

“Midoriya, go wait outside, I’ll be down shortly, I just need to go over a few things with (Y/N) before we leave” the tall blonde uttered to his secretary.

“Of course Sir” the boy said before he exited the room. Toshinori’s eyes didn’t leave (Y/N)’s, who still had her business face on. He couldn’t read her. This was going to make things more difficult. After seeing her in action, he wanted her even more, and without even realising it, his pheromones radiated off him. But she was acting as if she couldn’t sense them, which pissed him off.

“What can I help you with, Sir?” she asked, her tonne polite, but holding no emotion behind it. Unlike their first interaction where she put on a sweet, warm smile for him, she was bitterly cold now, purposely trying to shut him out.

“I don’t like corporate titles, I told you to call me by my first name” he sighed, rising form where he was sitting, she was going to be more of a challenge then he originally thought. That was fine, he was actually excited.

“Is there anything I can get you, Toshinori” she said softly, not removing herself from her seat as the man walked around the table removing something from his pocket. He handed the small piece of paper to her.

“You seem like a very professional woman, so I hope you don’t take offense to this, but here’s my number, I’d love to catch up for a coffee sometime” he said with a smile and she took the paper from him carefully, the man was letting off an absurd amount of pheromones which were causing her to literally burn off the suppressants she’d taken no more than two hours ago.

“I…uh…” she tried to respond, but the alpha gripped onto the side of her chair, leaning over her to whisper in her ear.

“Let me know if you need any help with your heat, something tells me you’ve never had an alpha look after you properly before” he growled lowly in his chest before pulling away and walking out of the room with a smirk on his face.

Once she finally recovered, she heaved herself out of the chair and found that her panties were completed soaked through, luckily it hadn’t yet soaked through to her actual pants yet. She made a quick dash to her office before closing the door behind her. She turned the internal heater on and grabbed the emergency blanket from the bottom draw, wrapping it around herself and hiding in a bundle under the desk with her laptop as she continued to work, hoping it would distract her from the slick pool that was growing around her cunt and the immense pain growing in her lower abdomen. At about three in the afternoon an email came into the inbox that needed the CEO’s immediate attention. She was too worn out by that stage to register that he had told her to go home and she probably shouldn’t be working at all. She flicked the email to him without a second thought.

Upon receiving said email, Enji’s brow furrowed, she should have been home by now. He quickly opened the door to his office just to check she had in fact gone home, letting out a low growl when he noticed her light was still on. He stormed across the corridor and opened the door, a wave of sickly sweet pheromones hitting him all at once. He was confused when he didn’t see her sitting at the desk, she had to be in the room, there was no way the place smelled this sweet without her being in there. He closed the door behind him and walked around the desk to find her nesting. His first thought was to yell at her for not listening to him and also for using the goddamn office to nest. But then he saw she was shaking as she tried to type out an email, it took a moment for her to noticed him crouching there looking at her incredulously.

“I told you to go home” he rumbled deeply, and she winced.

“I… I can’t walk” she admitted, refusing to make eye contact with him. Something burned inside him, obviously that alpha had said something to her to set her off again, and then just goddamn left her. It infuriated him, sure he’d done the same thing to plenty of omega’s before, but this was his…, no not his, this was (Y/N).

“I want you to send a message out to all staff working today and inform them that they can knock off” he said calmly. She was confused by the instruction, but took a minute to type out the message and sent it on his behalf.

“Now close the laptop and give it to me” he said gently, and she cautiously complied, handing him the laptop before he placed it on the desk over her.

“Come here” he motioned towards himself, and she went to move, but her eyes widened in panic and she returned to the way she was sitting, confusing the alpha who was doing everything in his power not to just grab her and knot her right there.

“If I move, it’s gonna run” she whispered, his face scrunched up in confusion for a second.

“What’s gonna…” he stopped short, she was worried about her slick. She really had never gone through her heat’s properly before, she was embarrassed by something that was normal, something that made him almost lose control and show her just how normal it was.

“That’s okay, it’s normal” he said, still offering his hand to her, she looked at him then, searching his eyes that were looking at her with kindness. There was no malicious intent behind them. She slowly reached for his hand and crawled out of her makeshift nest, pausing for a moment when slick gushed down her thigh, before continuing to crawl out from under the desk. Enji noticed she was clutching her stomach the entire time. She lifted her face up to look at him, she had tears in her eyes.

“Enji, can you please…” she paused trying to think things through, “can you please fuck me?” a tear rolled down her cheek when she said that and the alpha wasn’t’ sure if she was crying from the pain or from giving in. He unintentionally started releasing pheromones, having an omega so close to him, and especially considering that omega was clearly under a lot of stress, his instincts were taking over.

The omega couldn’t help herself when she caught his scent, she latched onto him, rubbing her face into his chest, taking in as much of it as possible. Seeing how well she responded to his pheromones, Enji started released them in waves and the little omega in his arms sighed and then started doing something he thought she’d ever do. She had split her legs over one of his muscled thighs and was rubbing herself on it. If he hadn’t been stiff before, he was definitely rock hard now. The omega was whimpering with each thrust of her hips, and soon enough, Enji could feel his pants becoming covered in her slick. He would never allow an omega to dry hump him like this, but she looked so goddamn perfect as she chased her orgasm on his thigh. He ran a hand through her hair, gently tilting her head back, forcing her to look up at him.

“Are you enjoying yourself? Little omega?” he asked lowly, she let out a moan then made eye contact with his stone-cold eyes, that screamed indifference.

“Please…” she whimpered, by the way she was shaking, he could tell she was close.

“Please what?” his eyes narrowed as he looked down at her.

“Can I p-please c-cum, alpha?” she begged, and something stirred in him, maybe she was a submissive after all. And as much as that excited him, he wasn’t going to be cruel to her right now, he had promised to help her after all. So many dirty things flooded into his head to respond with, but he wasn’t sure if they’d scare her off or turn her on. He decided teasing her was the best way to go.

“You’re so close already, and I haven’t even touched you” he mused, easily picking her up off his thigh and placing her in his lap, she let out a moan as she rubbed herself against his clothed erection.

“Good omegas look at their alphas when they cum” he whispered in her ear and then leant back into the chair, to watch her as she came undone. The girl did her best to look at the alpha as she rode out her orgasm, but her head titled back in euphoria at the height of her orgasm causing Enji to bite his lip to try and control himself. She was going to send him into an early rutt if he wasn’t careful. The girl was shaking as she came down from her high, however, her eyes widened slightly when she comprehended what she’d just done and she quickly looked away, causing Enji to smirk at her expression.

“Come now, you enjoyed yourself, didn’t you, (Y/N)?” he asked, gently grasping her chin and guiding her head to look at him.

“Yes, but…” she trailed off.

“But what?” he asked curious, although, the alpha was well aware of the answer, he just wanted to hear her say it.

“You’re my boss and I just, oh my god” she hid her face in his chest and he chuckled deeply.

“If it’s any consolation, I’m thoroughly enjoying this” he looked down at her to see her flash dagger eyes at him before she doubled over, whimpering in pain as she clutched her stomach.

“I can make the pain go away, you just have to ask” he whispered into her ear. She lost all normal sense as her instincts took over.

“Please fuck me, please alpha, I need your cock, use my cunt, please” she begged and a thrill rushed through Enji’s body.

“You’re so pretty when you beg” he trailed his hands down her body, hooking them under her thighs and lifting her up before easily manoeuvring her onto the desk. He rolled her pants and panties down to her ankles in one go, and was pleased to see that she had removed her shirt when he looked back up and was in the process of removing her bra, before laying down and displaying herself to him.

“Sir, please, I need your thick cock inside me, please fuck me” she begged again, looking him the eyes, on the verge on tears. The alpha released his hard cock from his restrictive clothing, stroking himself as he watched the omega writhe below him. It was a dream come true, seeing her beg for him like that, and it was taking his last piece of self-control not to dive in and fuck her immediately. He leant down over her, slapping his cock against her cunt, teasingly as he gently moved his hand to stroke her face, she nuzzled into his palm.

“Alpha, please, use me for your pleasure, I’m yours, please alpha, please” she begged again, attempting to thrust her hips upwards to gain any form of friction. Enji’s last fibre of constraint snapped, and with no warning, he thrust into the hilt and his omega let out a scream a pleasure. Even though this was her first time, there was enough slick pouring out of her cunt that his massive tool didn’t hurt her, it stretched her perfectly and hit all the right places as Enji started to thrust in and out of her cunt.

“Fuck… your cock… mhmm, feels so good, alpha, do whatever you want with me” she panted as he rammed into her. It was invitation Enji realised. He smirked as he gripped her throat with his free hand, and she let out a whine. Gently running her hand up and down his arm, encouraging to grip her neck tighter.

“Do you like that, little slut?” he whispered into her ear, and she nodded, her hips thrusting up to meet his.

“Good pets reply when they’re asked a question” he sneered, gripping her neck like a vice.

“Yes daddy… I love it when you choke me” she managed to wheeze out using the little oxygen that she had left in her lungs. Her words were nearly enough to send him over the edge.

“You’re such a filthy omega, I bet you’d do anything to please your alpha” he growled as he pulled his hand away from her throat, hooking one arm behind her back, the other under her thighs so he could lift her up. Her legs wound around his waist, arms hooking around his neck as he fucked up into her cunt, using gravity to enhance the angle.

“Mhm… anything to please you, anything, use me as your cock sleeve, I’ll be your cum dump, I want to satisfy you, please Enji” she moaned into his chest. This omega was going to be the death of him. She’d used his name, which meant that there was truth behind what she was saying. He could feel his knot starting to swell up.

“Fuck, you dirty whore, if you don’t stop talking like that, I’m going to knot you” he growled.

“But I mean it Sir, i need you to use me, I could keep your cock warm during long phone calls, mhmmm, you could come in here and fuck me whenever you wanted to, I need to pleasure you, please alpha” she whined.

“I bet you’d even let me fuck you in the middle of a meeting, wouldn’t you? Fuck. You’re mine. You’re my pretty little cum dump. You are mine, all mine” he growled possessively, thrusting deeply into her. It was enough to send her over the edge into an earth shattering orgasm, screaming his name as she clenched around his cock. He was patient and waited until she came down from her high.

“Alpha” she whispered in a sighed, he grunted, informed he was listening.

“Do you want to cum in my mouth or my ass?” she asked with a sly grin and he smirked, this omega had stamina, and the fact that she could keep up with him just made her that more attractive.

“All fours, face down, ass up” he ordered as he placed her on the ground. Oh and did she move quick for him.

“You’re such a perfect little omega for me” he cooed to her as he knelt down behind her, hotdogging her ass with his slick covered dick, using the slick build up to cover his knot.

“Please, use me alpha, I’m all yours” she begged.

“You’ve cum twice now, and you still want my cock. You greedy bitch” he growled, thrusting inside her back entrance, forcing his knot inside, scraping against her walls. The omega beneath him let out a muffled scream of pain.

“If it’s too much for you, I can take it out” he wasn’t being kind, he was teasing her as he fucked her ass. (Y/N) pulled her teeth from her arm and panted before responding.

“I’ll take your cock whenever you give it to me alpha. My perfect, handsome, strong alpha. I’ll give you anything, I’d do anything to please you. I belong to you” she moaned, it was enough to send him over the edge.

“Fuck (Y/N)” he muttered, with one deep thrust, he poured his seed into her ass with a guttural moan.

“Thank you alpha” the omega whispered as he slowly rotated her on his cock so she was facing him before picking her up and sitting down in the chair as they waited for his knot to shrink.

“You were so good for me” he cooed, continuing to whisper soft nothings into her ear as she leant against his chest.

[baticorngirl]

Title: “Dad, you’re embarrassing me!’

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Relationship(s): Talia Al Ghul/Bruce Wayne (Brutalia), Talia Al Ghul & Ra’s Al Ghul, Bruce Wayne & Ra’s Al Ghul, Dusan Al Ghul & Ra’s Al Ghul, Nyssa Raatko & Ra’s Al Ghul, Talia Al Ghul & Dusan Al Ghul,

Characters: Talia Al Ghul, Bruce Wayne, Ra’s Al Ghul, Nyssa Raatko, Dusan Al Ghul,

Summary: Bruce Wayne, an average (other than his parent's death) billionaire, was nervous. Very, very, nervous. It was a simple task, really, but meeting his girlfriend's family seemed rather intimidating at the moment. She has mentioned her father being strict or whatnot many times, and it had gotten many worries to arrive in his mind.

Unfortunately, Bruce had every right to be worried.

A/N: I don't own the characters, DC does.

This fic was originally made (or at least started) for @brutalia-week​ Day 4: Family. Since I wasn't able to finished it in time, I tried to make it a "day 8" kind of thing.... although I'm a teeny bit late for that, too, lol. It was originally just supposed to be a short humor fanfic, but... let's just say it got out of hand. Fair warning that some of the characters may be a teeny bit OOC (nothing too bad, though) because of humor or just plot-convenience.

For context, this takes place in an alternate universe where Bruce doesn't become Batman, but that's the only big difference. Anyway, enjoy!

Related Links: Read it on FF.Net (x), Read it on Ao3(x),

Day 1(x), Day 2(x), Day 3(x), Day 5(x), Day 6(x), Day 7(x),

______________________________________________________

Bruce was uncomfortable. His tie felt itchy, and hot, like a fever that somehow didn't spread to his forehead. In fact, his whole body felt hot, and the tiniest bit shaky. Bruce's stomach twisted up in a knot, making his face turn visibly red with discomfort. His breathing was a bit quicker and shorter than normal. He was nervous. Very, very, nervous. But considering the situation, he had every right to be.

Talia and him had been dating for quite a while now. Over 6 months, actually. They met up when they could, and every time they went on a date, they started enjoying each other's company more, and more, and more. Talia often had things she needed to do, though, and they would often come up out of what seemed to be nowhere. She'd always say she just had an assignment from work of some kind, but it often occurred to Bruce that she never mentioned what she did as a profession.

Perhaps, today would be the day he found out. Now that their relationship was feeling more serious, Talia had finally decided she would introduce her boyfriend to her parents, and the rest of her family. It had taken some convincing for her to do it, but her father had been adamant that meeting and evaluating any of her potential husbands was necessary.

"What if they're not worthy?" He had insisted, pacing back and forth in urgency. "What if they plan to spy on you, or hurt you, or are simply a failure? Besides, my Dear Daughter, what's the issue with him meeting us? Please, tell me you're not seriously acting embarrassed of your own family at this age." Ra's stopped to look at her, a disappointed look on his face.

"I-" Talia hadn't wanted to upset him, or even worse, make her view her as immature. She sighed, "Fine, but please…. try to stay calm with him. Be understanding if he's not quite up to your qualifications of worthy, and…. Just try not to kill him, okay? You can be very overwhelming, and although he's a very nice man, he's not used to murderers." She had tried to put it lightly, but truthfully, she wanted to yell the list of commands in his face. It was ridiculous -absolute ludicrous- that she had to tell him such simple things.

"Of course, Daughter. Whatever makes you most comfortable." Ra's smiled at her, and leaned in to kiss the top of her head affectionately. Yet again, she was reminded by why she had spared his feelings, but quickly forgot it as he spoke again. "But you can't truly expect me to hide my whole personality, can you? I'll try to make sure there's minimal stabbing at the family dinner that night, but you can only expect so much of me."

Talia had stared at him, with her eyes squinted with concern, but she pushed a smile on her face regardless. "J- Just do your best, Father. Thank you." The minute she had gotten out of the room, though, her smile immediately dropped. She let out a huge, tired, sigh. She loved her family, but sometimes she just wished they could hold their murderous instincts in for a moment.

Now, as her and Bruce inched towards the door, Talia felt that wish more than she ever had before. Even if Bruce was nervous, thinking of the times Talia had mentioned her Father being strict, controlling, and painfully traditional, he was nothing compared to Talia. She flinched every few moments. Her every instinct told her to lead Bruce away, to come up with an excuse, but it was too late now. She gulped. Maybe, if she had the best luck in the world, her father would only talk about his Endangered-Species-Saving Programs, and not his Murder-Most-Humans program.

But when Bruce looked down at her, he felt a sense of excitement. He surely hadn't heard the best things from Talia about her family, but if they have raised someone as wonderful as Talia, he was sure they couldn't be too bad. He knew they may not have the most similarities, but wasn't caring about Talia the most important similarity of all?

Despite his slight optimism, inside the Al Ghul house, not everyone was on their best behavior. Screams echoed through the dining room as everyone got settled down. Nyssa and Ra's, specifically, were the ones having the heated argument. Heated arguments were not uncommon for them, so much that no one had any clue why she was even invited to the family dinners. She didn't even consider herself part of that family, but Ra's was convinced that it was such a special moment, no one could miss it. His little girl has her first boyfriend! Inevitably, he lived to regret this decision.

"You're a dirty excuse for a father, Ra's! You left me to fend for myself when I needed you most!" Nyssa yelled, standing up from her chair. Her breath was heavy with rage. "You should be ashamed of yourself!" She quickly picked up her fork, throwing it as hard as she could in Ra's' face.

"No, you should be ashamed of yourself! You're the one that betrayed me, before I had done a thing to you!" Ra's screamed back, throwing the fork aside. Fortunately for Ra's, the fork hadn't done any damage. He quickly pulled himself out of his seat to balance the dominance in their positions. "Everything that happened was your own fault, so stop pushing the blame on to me just because I blatantly decided you weren't worth saving from torture!" Unaware of how bad that sounded, he picked up the fork again and threw it back at her.

They continued throwing things at each other, screaming endlessly. The danger of the things thrown escalated as they went. At first it was simply things like forks and spoons, things that wouldn't do too much damage. But it started getting worse, and worse…..

Outside, at least Bruce was getting some kind of a warning. Talia stopped him just before he opened the door, turning him to face her. She stared at him, a glint of dead seriousness in her eyes.

"Beloved, you are not ready to meet my family. You never will be. They're a lot to deal with." She warned. Talia's hands gripped his shoulders even harder than a villain does when threatening a hero. "Every single one of my family members is weird. Very, very weird. A bit absurd, even. Albeit a nice guy, you're also only a simple billionaire, so it's definitely going to get on your nerves. They even get on my nerves, they-"

Bruce gently tugged her arms off of her, "Talia, I can handle it. I'm not a judgemental guy, I swear. It's fine if they're a little weird." His face rested in a blank, -but more importantly, not a horrified or angry- expression. "Come on, let's go inside. They're probably waiting for us." He pointed towards the door, beginning to open it. Talia, still frazzled, immediately swung her arms over to stop him from opening it.

"Please, Beloved, you don't understand! It's not a difference in culture, tastes, or even opinions! I swear on my life… they're crazy." She stared into his eyes. Her pupils were huge, and her hands were shaky as she held him back. "I don't care if you don't believe me, but just… promise you won't blame me for them?" Talia looked down desperately. Her words slowed for a moment.

"Of course," Bruce nodded, but before she could even communicate her gratitude, he abruptly swung the door open. "I've told you a million times, though, I'm sure I won't even be blaming them! You're worr-" The second he took his eyes off of Talia, and on to the room in front of them, his mouth dropped. Every word he said about it being fine was regretted almost immediately. It was so very, very, not fine.

Bruce had looked just quick enough to see Nyssa cross a final line with the throwing… a full, sharp, assassin knife. It shot directly into, and right through, Ra's' guts. Blood dripped down his stomach area and onto his shirt and cape. Ra's looked down at the injury for a moment, before quickly realizing that Talia and her boyfriend had officially arrived.

"Look what you've done now, Nyssa!" Ra's scolded, pointing to Bruce angrily. "Our guest has arrived, and you've done this right in front of him! Look at him, so startled at your audacity to stab me that he can't seem to speak…. Congratulations, you've embarrassed the whole family!" Bruce couldn't seem to listen to Ra's, with his eyes stuck on his stomach. Blood kept spilling out of it, yet Ra's hardly seemed to mind.

"...Are you okay?" Bruce took a slow, hesitant step towards the dinner table. His eyes were as wide as he thought they could go. "Shouldn't someone call an ambulance? You're bleeding out!" With the pure shock of it all starting to fade, he whipped out his phone and started navigating to the dialer.

Now dripping even more blood on the ground, Ra's pranced over to the front door to greet Bruce. "No, no, no! Don't mind my other daughter's ill manors. She's never well-behaved anymore, I'm afraid. But you're the guest, you shouldn't worry about this. Just sit down and relax." He led Bruce over to his seat, nudging him to sit down onto it. Ra's turned his stomach away from the chair to be sure he didn't get any little drops of blood on it. As he made his way back to his own seat, he gestured towards his stab wound. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to have to get changed and cleaned up. I'm afraid this stab wound has created quite a mess."

Still recovering from the shock of the stabbing, Bruce attempted to reason with him, "But don't you need to get medica-" Before he could even finish his sentence, though, Ra's was already out of the room and down the hallway. As hard as Ra's had tried to keep the floor from too much damage, there were still drips of blood every few feet. Bruce considered following them to make sure he was okay, but quickly realized that with all the servants here, at least one person would help.

Talia sat down next to him, surprisingly unstartled by her own father's stabbing, "Try not to worry too much about it, Beloved. This happens a lot -sometimes even ending in the opposite- and as you can see, it has never resulted in his -or even Nyssa's- death. Oh, and don't worry for your own life, the stabbing is very personal. I doubt Nyssa thinks you have enough of a connection with him to be worth hurting." She explained matter-of-factly. Her hand gently reached over to pat his hand, in an attempt to sooth him.

"Okay… I just, I don't want you to lose him. I don't want you to feel the same pain of losing your parents as I did…" His voice quivered at the thought of his own parent's tragic murder. Talia nodded, understanding his pain, but in no way attempting to agree with him.

"As I've said before, don't worry. I'm afraid my mother already died when I was a child, and her death frightened me, but him? No, no, no, he's quite the survivor. He's survived so many ridiculous situations, in fact, I believe he's practically immortal!" She exclaimed the strong statement, seeming a bit excited, but not quite cheerful. Seeing the statement as a casual joke, Bruce laughed nervously. Talia did not laugh with him, though. To his discomfort, she stared at him, just as dead-serious as she was with her original warning.

The sound of her father's pattering footsteps knocked them both out of their odd conversation. Ra's entered the room, his blood now nowhere in sight. Despite how formal the arrangement was supposed to be, he was shirtless. A new shirt, looking very similar to the one he was wearing when Bruce arrived, was tucked under his arm.

As Ra's started pulling the shirt on, Bruce noticed something. The place where the stab wound had been just a moment ago was perfectly visible, with no clothes covering it, and yet it just… wasn't there anymore. Certainly no blood, but not even any bandages, or any kind of scar! The only thing in the victim's gut area was skin. Pure, undamaged, skin. Talia's family was starting to seriously freak Bruce out.

Once Ra's had gotten his upper-half dressed, he promptly began making his more formal greeting to Bruce, "I'm afraid, with all that chaos, I never got the chance to introduce myself! I'm Ra's Al Ghul, Talia's father. You can call me Ra's…. At least as long as I haven't found you unworthy of casual nicknames." He narrowed his eyes, scaring away any joy in Bruce for the moment. "...And you are…? I'm afraid I don't think Talia's mentioned your name."

"I'm Bruce… um, Bruce Wayne." Bruce stuttered, trying to shake away the strong sense of uncomfort Ra's was starting to give him. Ra's smiled politely, and shook his hand.

"Welcome to our home, Bruce… Or Mr. Wayne, whatever you prefer to be called." He gestured to the grand mansion they were having dinner in. Having had enough of leaning over to be eye-to-eye with Bruce, he slumped back down onto his chair. His grand, collared, cape got thrown back in the process.

"..Bruce is fine," Bruce answered, still a bit nervous. Ra's nodded at him. Surrounded by a thick layer of eyeliner, his eyes seemed to stare into Bruce's soul. Bruce hated to judge someone for their clothing style, but the way Ra's dressed was certainly off for a meet-the-family type dinner. In fact, with the gold button on his cloak looking eerily like a demon's face, he was practically dressed like a supervillain.

Everyone began eating the food in peace. Nyssa did not try to stab anyone during that time, and neither did Ra's. It was pure silence at the dinner table, with everyone focusing purely on their plates instead of making conversation. Eventually, Ra's finally brought his head up from it and started speaking to Bruce.

"So… You want to marry my daughter?" Ra's asked, looking at Bruce sternly. His eyes carefully moved up and down, evaluating every single part of Bruce to see how worthy it was. He squinted at Bruce's jacket, his shoes, his expression… everything. As much as Bruce tried to seem calm and collected for Ra's, both the sudden assumption of marriage and the intense staring were only making him feel subconscious.

Fortunately, Talia immediately cleared it up, "We haven't even spoken about marriage yet, Father! Please, you're going to overwhelm him. Didn't I already tell you not to do this?" She pleaded. Talia gulped, just as she had been doing consecutively for this entire dinner. Watching her father act this way always felt a bit off, but having her boyfriend there just made it so much worse. She could easily feel what Bruce was feeling, -or at least what she thought he was- and she knew it was far from positive. Talia looked back down at her plate, hiding her face as it turned bright red. She didn't think she'd ever felt quite this embarrassed in her entire life.

"I apologize, but you do realize, Talia, that if you ever want your relationship to go anywhere you must marry him at some point. How long have you two been dating, again?" Ra's looked back at Bruce, waiting for him to finally speak for himself.

Bruce took a deep breath, "Somewhere around 6 months? Or possibly 7, it's hard to get it exact." Ra's raised an eyebrow at the number.

"You two… have not even been thinking about marriage yet? Let me tell you, every single one of my marriages has always started with a month -at most- of prior dating, and I have had at least one perfectly good marriage. You all remember Sora, may she rest in peace, and we had the happiest of marriages. Yet, we married out of convenience! We hardly knew each other! Sometimes, you young ones must just let-" Ra's rambled, only to be cut off by Talia sighing. The gush of air was so loud and obviously exasperated that it completely cut off his story. After a second or two of silence, he continued despite it, "As I was saying, sometimes you young ones need to understand that dating isn't going to secure a marriage. A good attitude will! Both Sora and I had a good attitude, and she managed to be the light of my life. But of course, that only lasted so-"

This time, Talia simply used her words to stop him, "-So long because she got strangled to death in front of your eyes. We all know, Father, and frankly I don't think Bruce needs to know your life story. Why can't we just talk about something a bit more.. Conventional? We already talk about murder and death so much, can't we just lighten up a bit?" She begged, biting her lip uncomfortably. Her eyes looked at Ra's softly, almost as if she was attempting to do puppy eyes.

"Fine, fine, I really should get to the point, anyhow. We must tell if he is worthy enough to even date you! Only the finest in the lands are worthy of you, my darling, and so far I doubt he's up to that standard." Ra's scoffed, and Bruce couldn't help but roll his eyes in return. Talia looked down again, rubbing her temples. She was just about ready to fall asleep on her father's nonsense. "Hmmm…." Not paying any attention to his daughter's misery, he stared into Bruce's eyes for what must have been the fifth time.

"He's…. Very….. Wealthy…." Talia stated. Each word was separated by a ton of sighs, groans, and deep breaths of frustration. Even as she spoke to her father, she kept her eyes locked down on her plate, in a painful stare. Ra's rested his chin on his hand as he considered her words. He looked side to side, while tilting his head every which way in correspondence.

"Well… I suppose a bit of extra money surely isn't hurting his worthiness." Ra's titled his head one last time, glancing up at Bruce from a different angle. Slowly, he adjusted his head back to normal. His arms were lightly touching down on the table, propping up his hands to wrap their fingers in between the other one. Ra's leaned forward, with his face now less than a foot in front of his hands. "But… you can already get as much of that as you'd ever possibly need from me. Worthiness, you see, is about much more than that. It's about the intelligence. The skill. The strength. The willpower…. The grace." His index fingers, now pointing up from the rest of his hands, tapped against each other. Each tap was methodical, rhythmic… like the ticking of a clock, clacking each second away.

Bruce felt a cold, thick, drop of sweat roll down his forehead, "I… I once took an IQ test. Mine is… higher than normal. Quite a bit higher, I believe." He picked up his napkin and quickly wiped the sweat off, attempting to push a smile onto his face. Or, just some sign of confidence, at the very least. Unfortunately, he was just a billionaire -and not a very emotionally-mature billionaire at that- so it wasn't exactly helping his case.

"Good. That's very good…." Ra's nodded approvingly. His index fingers tapped together again each time his head bopped up and down. Finally looking up from her plate, Talia started to smile, a glint of hope in her eyes. "But if you really have such an impressive intelligence quotient, you better start acting like it. Hit it where it really counts, not just some meaningless quiz. If you want to receive my daughter's hand in marriage, you will prove yourself worthy of such a thing in real life." His head's nodding quickly came to a stop.

Talia sighed again, but didn't even try to bother stopping it. Her mind was much more focused on the worse tests she reckoned would come after… the ones her beloved, as wonderful and skilled as he was, was still bound to fail. She glanced up at Bruce, noticing how wet his forehead looked. Her warnings had not done a thing, as even now, he was acting as if this was a big problem in comparison to the other thing her father most valued.

As she silently brooded, Ra's began to start his opportunity for Bruce to prove his intelligence, "Bring. It. In!" His voice boomed through the room as he looked at his assassins servants expectantly. To his dismay, they all simply stared at him, waiting for some more clarification. Their eyes blinked unknowingly. Ra's cringed at his servant's lack of understanding. "I said, bring. It. In!" Yet again, he got nothing brought in at all. A long, exasperated sigh, -almost as heavy as Talia's had been all night- escaped his mouth.

One of the servants, still unsure what to do but eager to help, went over and stood by his side. The servant bowed, but didn't dare ask for clarification. Not wanting to anger the master, the servant made sure to be patient and let Ra's have time to explain himself.

Ra's turned directly towards the closest servant, looking him in the eyes desperately, "You know, it. The thing. The one you should be bringing in right now. Whipping up out of nowhere." The servant nodded, but continued to wait for even more of an explanation. Ra's waved his hand in front of the person, unsure if they were even listening. "Come on! Get to it! Bring. IT. IN….. Ah, forget it! I was really hoping I wasn't going to have to ruin the suspense and the drama like this, but the chess board! The one I always pull out dramatically when attempting to test whether I should respect someone! The grand assessment!"

"Ohhhhh…." The servant slowly nodded. They spun on their heels, beginning to make their way off to get the chess board. Every breath Ra's took was long and agitated, gushing out like the wind as he watched the servant disappear into the next room.

He turned back towards Bruce, "I apologize for that mishap. It seems I really should just keep my chess board nearby in these kinds of situations, but I promise you, my assassins did say they'd have it handy." He scoffed at their incompetence. Bruce, on the other hand, was a bit more focused on another thing. He stared at Ra's, his eyebrows furrowing.

If this family wasn't already freaking him out, they certainly were now, "A… Assassi-?!"

But before he even got to finish expressing his frantic confusion, Ra's quickly interrupted him. These 'assassins' of his were back, now with the chessboard that he desired so badly. Ra's rapidly swiped the chessboard out of their hands and slapped it down in front of the two of them.

"Finally, we can begin!" He exclaimed, a tint of annoyance still in his voice. He turned back towards his assassins for a moment, gritting his teeth. "We'll talk about this whole 'ruining my drama' thing later. All of you." Ra's pointed at his own two eyes with two of his fingers, and then pointed the fingers back down on the League of Assassins members.

"And I think we need to talk about this whole assassi-!?" Still more focused on the other matter at hand, he persisted in attempting to get some kind of explanation. But yet again, Ra's was simply not listening.

"You may go first. It's only fair that the guest gets privileges. Besides, I think you'll need every advantage you can get when playing with someone who's been playing this game for centuries." Ra's pointed to Bruce's end of the board, waiting. Bruce's lips quivered as he stared at it. From the corner of his eye, he watched as Ra's folded his hands together calmly. "Go on,"

Bruce chuckled nervously, "You're exaggerating… right?" His finger slowly inched towards the board as he thought about his first move. It was a strategy game, and Bruce was good at such games, but the claims Ra's was stating were more than intimidating. He bit his tongue, thinking back to all the games he'd won against Alfred.

"Exaggerating? Oh, hardly." Ra's shrugged, "You see, young man, this game has been going on far beyond even an old man like me's lifetime. I've been playing it for a long time, and I haven't gotten bored. But I have, as a matter of fact, learned many, many, strategies. I'd find it incredible for this to even last more than 30 minutes before you lose." Bruce leaned towards the board in concentration, attempting to ignore the chills running down his spine.

After what felt like forever of them playing chess, Talia finally saw an ending as she looked at the chess board. All of Bruce's pieces were blocked, in some way or another. She sighed in relief. Not only was this game not going to last forever, but her boyfriend wasn't even going to lose.

"It seems we've ended with a stalemate…" Ra's grinned at the outcome. He pulled out a clipboard from under the table, scribbling down the points this gave Bruce. Quickly tucking the clipboard back under the table, a look of awe sparkled in his eyes. "This is… incredible. Quite entertaining, actually! I haven't had a good opponent like this in years! Decades, even… if not centuries!" Bruce smirked, a sense of confidence raining over him. Talia rolled her eyes. She had certainly stalemated with Ra's at least once.

"Good, but now, can we please focus back on the fact that you called these… people around us... assassins?!" Bruce shook off the pride as he finally remembered the eerie mention. Talia's face flopped back down to face her plate. Her breaths were thin and short as she held back the urge to stand up and run straight out of this embarrassment.

"I did, didn't I...? Is that a problem? Did I offend you with that term?" Her father's voice rose. Despite the innocent questions, he fought back the urge to roll his eyes or scoff yet again in annoyance. "Would you prefer them to be called ninjas, murderers, or simply 'the people around us'? …..You're the guest."

"Murdere-?!" Bruce leaned back, unsure how to even say such a terrifying word. His mouth dropped open as his eyes anxiously darted back and forth. "These people are really… actual….." Talia reached over to Bruce, squeezing his hand.

"Are you alright, Beloved?" Talia asked. Her hand was warm, or possibly even a bit fever-ish to the touch. As was her cheeks, so very red with nerves. Bruce stared at her face, observing the not only embarrassed, but almost shameful expression smeared across it. A thought suddenly occurred to him… a quite unnerving, but eerily plausible one.

Bruce sighed, "...yes," He muttered through gritted teeth. Talia's shoulders slouched down, feeling her tense muscles relax at the reassurance. Bruce turned back towards Ra's, pouting his lip in a disapproving frown. "But… I don't want to stay here any longer than I have to. Let's get on with it, Ra's." Talia's muscles tensed right back up.

"Very well then, young man," Ra's aggressively shoved the chess board to the side. He pushed himself up from his seat, pulling out a sword that he had apparently been hiding in his pockets. "The next test is all about your ability to fight. Not only do I expect you to protect my daughter if the need comes up, but you also must be capable of winning wars if you want to win my daughter's love."

Talia pulled herself up from her seat, as well, "He already has my love, though, Father! No offense, but your tests and evaluations are all for yourself, and yourself only. We've already dated for long enough that it's ridiculous to act as if we aren't already in a romantic relationship." She crossed her arms, starting to get seriously fed up with her father's absurd behavior.

"Yes, yes, of course. But if you want me to treat you as my son-in-law, much less, my equal, you need to complete this test. It's about the respect! You've already shown competence in a battle of wits, now you must show you are just as skilled in physical battles for me to respect you." Ra's pointed his sword towards Bruce, making a stabbing motion towards the air. Bruce flinched as the sharp blade reached towards his chest. "Go on, get your blade out. This may not be a duel to the death -since Talia did go out of her way to make me promise I wouldn't stab you- but it's still a battle that you need to be prepared for."

"My… blade?" Bruce raised one of his eyebrows in confusion. He shook his head and squinted his eyes at Ra's. "I was just trying to go to a formal dinner, to meet my girlfriend's family. Why. Would. I. Have. a. Sword. With. Me?!" After having to listen to Ra's constantly scoff throughout the dinner, he finally managed to gather the courage to scoff back.

"You must always be prepared, young man. Always. You are obviously immature. You know strategies, but you lack the true wisdom to use them properly. But, I suppose that is only to be expected with your young age, so…. I will still give you a chance." Ra's slid his sword back into his pocket. His lips rested in a strict frown, but began to curve up ever so slightly for a moment. "Besides, you already stale-mated me. I love a good stalemate! I can't believe I found someone who could achieve such an outcome! You're wonderful, Bruce. Just wonderful… Assassins, get him a sword!"

Bruce could only stare as a woman, dressed in all black attire, handed him her sword. He opened his mouth to reject it, but only a small, frantic, l uttering sound sputtered out. Everyone, including Talia, Nyssa, the assassins, and a man who's name hadn't been mentioned yet, stepped back, leaving Bruce and Ra's alone. Bruce slowly wrapped his hands around the handle of his weapon, still adjusting to the odd feeling of holding such a sharp object in his hand. By the time he realized what was happening around him, it was much too late to eat his last bite of food.

In fact, it was too late to even stretch before the battle. Ra's, who was seemingly having enough of Bruce's shock, was already lunging over. His sword slashed at Bruce's. With Bruce's fingers barely even holding on to it, Bruce's sword immediately got flung to the ground upon feeling any kind of impact.

Clang! The metal blade chimed as it hit the hard floor. The sound instantaneously knocked Ra's out of his intense battle-focus. His teeth were not gritted anymore, and his eyes widened from their stern glaring. He looked down at the stray weapon, then back up to Bruce. Now realizing what had happened, Bruce's face turned red. A tiny spray of sweat appeared on his forehead as he looked down with embarrassment.

"With all due respect, I have never had a weaker or less skillful opponent." Ra's blinked at the pathetic sight, shaking his head. He bent down to the ground and picked up the sword. The woman who it belonged to eagerly reached out to take it from him. Ra's turned back towards Bruce, who gulped as he saw the disappointment in his eyes. "I suppose I should've expected this kind of thing from such an average billionaire, although that chess game had sure gotten me hopeful. I mean god, was that a good game!" Ra's mumbled, holding back a smile.

Bruce sighed, "Let me guess, you want me to never date or even speak to your daughter again." He looked back at Talia, his shoulders slumping at the thought of leaving someone so lovely. But almost just as quickly, his shoulders pulled back up again. "Because if I may just say, this is completely unwarranted! You could've at least given me a warning about this nonsense…"

"You.. have a point." Ra's nodded, "Which is why I haven't completely ruled you out. That chess game still proves your utter excellency in nature, so perhaps it is rather cruel to blame you for this one time. But-"

Out of pure instinct, Bruce punched Ra's in the gut and kicked him to the floor. Ra's quickly jumped back up and dusted himself off, hardly bothered physically. But mentally, he was shocked. Talia ran to her father's side to make sure he was alright.

"Why would you do that, Beloved?" She yelled at Bruce. With Ra's obviously unarmed, she took a step towards her boyfriend. "You already weren't doing very well on his evaluations, so how do you think attacking him is going to help you?"

"I've proved I can defeat him." Bruce narrowed his eyes, still confident in his reckless behavior. Talia sighed, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "He was doubting my ability to fight, but I've proved that I'm perfectly capable of throwing a punch or two. Since he's so obsessed with my fighting, it should help me be 'worthy' or whatnot." He crossed his arms.

Ra's rested his forehead against his hand, facepalming, "Yes, you got me on the ground for a bit, but at what cost? Ambushing may be a great strategy, and I already admitted you knew many strategies, but what kind of true warrior would use it on his own friend!?" He snapped. His large boots rattled as he stomped his foot on the ground. "A little agitation and frustration towards me does not take away the fact that you never declared us at war!" He began to stomp back to his seat at the dinner table.

"For goodness sakes, you're really going to lecture me about my morals when you've got a freaking assassin cult surrounding us!?" Bruce yelled back in return, "In my defense, when I see assassins, it really seems like anything I do would be in self-defense… Even if you weren't currently attacking me…" He argued. Every sense of nervousness had spiraled into anger.

"Exactly, we never attacked you except for a formal, well-mannered, spa-"

"Shut up! Can't you both just agree to disagree?!" Now shaking from frustration, Talia finally let her voice really rise and scream at them both. She tugged Bruce back to the table, and motioned for them both to sit down. "Apparently you're both a bit crazy, but two different kinds of crazy that apparently don't mix. I just- I just want this dinner to not be the worst experience of all of our lives…." As she settled back down into her own chair, her voice began to lower again.

Bruce and Ra's both begrudgingly nodded. Everyone's muscles began to relax, and their breaths were much slower and calmer. The ticks of an old clock clacked in the background as everyone went back to eating calmly. After a few minutes of peaceful silence, a soft conversation began again.

"I don't think you two ever introduced yourselves." Bruce pointed to another man and woman who were seated at the table with them. They had been simply watching and speculating as him and Ra's did their shenanigans. "You're Nyssa, right?" He pointed to the woman who had stabbed Ra's not long ago.

"Yes, and it's been quite amusing to watch him be kinder to you than he is to me." Nyssa sent him a cold glare across the table. He shuttered. "I'm Talia's older sister… or technically half sister, but you get the point."

Ra's quickly took up the introductions once she was finished, "Yes, yes, she's my other daughter. Much older than Talia, but nowhere near as wonderful." He smiled at Talia, who blushed uncomfortably. Being the favorite was better than being the least favorite, but it could certainly be embarrassing, too. Ra's turned towards Dusan, "He's… my son? I think. I'm sorry, it's been a long time since his birth, so I sometimes forget it even happened! His name is… hmm… I'm fairly sure it starts with a C…"

"It's Dusan, Father. It doesn't even start with a C…" The man corrected. He sighed at his father's forgetfulness. Ra's titled his head at Dusan, displeased at the answer. His expression was questionable, with an eyebrow raised, like he was about to question Dusan on his own name. Dusan sighed even deeper.

"I… supposed that's his name, then…" Ra's gave in, his tone still indicating his lack of certainty on the matter. He looked Dusan in the eyes, making direct eye contact, "But don't call me Father! You're hardly my son if I can't even remember my name." Dusan returned the eye contact with a look of sadness and disappointment.

"If it makes you feel any better, Dusan, I still consider you my big brother." Talia stated, smiling towards him shyly. Dusan shook off the eye contact with Ra's to send a bitter glare back to his younger sister.

"Oh really? Like I care, Favorite! One day, he's going to realize that I'm the better child and you're going to be forsaken considering how much trouble you've caused him!" Dusan scowled at Talia. She groaned, but stayed quiet in an attempt to avoid another embarrassing argument.

"Don't you dare speak to your superior that way!" Despite her silence, Ra's was far from quiet. He immediately looked back towards Bruce as he finished speaking. His speech was completely polite to Bruce now, as if the spontaneous attack had never even happened. "I apologize for his foul behavior, Bruce. It seems that sometimes immature children will act out if you forget to treat them kindly."

"Um… okay." Bruce squinted at Ra's, concerned but still confused. He was still certain that despite the uncalled-for attack, Ra's was still indefinitely the crazier one. But of course, in an effort to not upset Talia, Bruce kept this thought to himself. "I… suppose you must have another test for me, right?"

"Of course! Even though your manners aren't the very best, I will admit you did get me on the ground for a bit there, so… I still haven't counted you out. With a little teaching, you could be a very worthy man." Ra's complimented, "I'd just like to ask you a few questions, to get a grip of your personality just a bit better." He explained, pushing his food to the side.

"Go ahead," Bruce said. Despite his encouraging words, though, he was frowning in utter disinterest. He slowly pushed his food to the side to clear a path between them. Ra's pointed to Bruce before he asked the first question.

"How do you feel about the environment? More specifically, the planet. Innocent animals made endangered by man-made devices and pollution!" Ra's began. He eagerly stretched his hand over to grab a nearby globe, pulling it into his clutches. His thick, strong, fingers spun it nonchalantly.

Bruce thought about the question for a moment, "I feel bad for the animals. Since I have so much money, I've donated tons to helping them, and I feel the environment is a very important cause. I will admit I haven't done a ton of work with it myself, though…" He answered the question as truthfully as possible, figuring it probably wasn't too important.

"That's good… although I would appreciate a bit more enthusiasm for such an important cause." Ra's nodded, quickly moving on to the next question. "How about… murder? Assuming there's a good cause for it, of course."

Bruce froze, "Do I… do I have to answer truthfully?" He whispered into Talia's ear. She nodded, pointing towards her father. With a couple of her fingers pressed up to her neck, she made a cut-throat gesture. Bruce shuttered and shook at such a threatening signal, even if it was more of a simple warning. "I think it's horrible. One of the worst crimes imaginable. I would never commit it, even if it cost me my life. I don't think there's any excuse for taking another human being's life, no matter what that human being has done."

Ra's frowned at the blunt response, "But what if it saved other lives? The animals, which we've hurt so much with pollution's lives, perhaps?" He argued, continuing to spin his globe fidgetly. His eyes peered down at the bright blue paint, thinking of the dolphins, fish, seals, and whales that all inhabited that precious space. The space humans were constantly taking over, with their plastic, machinery, and oil spills. To Ra's, such horrid actions seemed surely worthy of the death penalty.

"I said no," Bruce shook his head stubbornly. "No one deserves to die, period. I'm not going to be persuaded on this." He glared at Ra's, starting to get more and more confident by the minute. Ra's glowered right back at him.

Talia sighed, "You know, Beloved… You didn't have to be this blunt about it." She leaned her head on chin on her hand wearily. Her eyes began to close softly, having no energy left after all the messes that had gone on. "I just didn't want you making up something too-good-to-be-true…."

Bruce rolled his eyes, "Well maybe I want to be blunt-"

"Well, I'd like to remind you that my father isn't exactly the person you want to upset!" She gestured back towards all the highly-trained assassins surrounding them. Every single one had belts with an arsenal of weapons tucked inside, and half of them had enough muscles to take down most people without the help of the weapons. "Only a fool would mess with such a man. After months of dating you, I hope I am not misled when I say you're not that much of an idiot."

Bruce gulped, immediately realizing his mistake, "I…. I'm sorry, Mr. Al Ghul." He looked back at Ra's nervously. He quickly tightened his tie and fixed his posture, hoping even that small of a change could make a difference. . . Whether that difference was a matter of life or death, or simply whether Talia and him were allowed to keep dating.

"You know... '' Ra's considered his options, peering at Bruce judgmentally. "That kind of rebelness does show courage, if you squint. I'll be fair and say it's bound to come in handy at some point in your life… so, I have decided that you two may keep dating. From what I've heard, you make my daughter happy, so I suppose I'd feel bad being too judgemental." He smiled at Talia. Getting up from his seat, he wandered around the table to kiss her forehead lovingly.

Despite the loving gesture, though, Talia was much more focused on the wonderful news this meant for her and Bruce. The minute her father was done giving her the kiss, she ran over to Bruce and hugged him. Bruce wrapped his hands around her as well, squeezing her against him.

"Thank you, Father," Talia turned back towards Ra's for a split second before leaning back into Bruce's hug. She rested her cheek against him affectionately. "You're alive. I can't believe you're still alive. Everyone's still alive…." She smiled, tilting her to the left to peck him on the cheek.

"Yes.. although I will admit it's a bit sad that we even questioned that.. Not that we didn't have the right to." Bruce glared at Nyssa and Ra's bitterly. Fortunately, they were both looking the opposite way. He really had to stop doing so much of this rebellious, impolite, glaring at those he was attempting to make fond of him. "But more importantly, we get to stay together! I knew I had made the right move by attacking your father." He smirked.

"Sure you did," Talia's smile twisted into a smirk along with his, "There's a reason he didn't kill you, though, Beloved. You were wonderful… and the stalemate? That's more than impressive. It took me my entire childhood of playing chess with him to start being able to get those! You're so intelligent, and brave, and… well, I'm just very glad I fell in love with someone as wonderful as you. Even if you did punch my Father." Her eyes softened for a moment, now taken over by a bittersweet gaze.

"...Thank you," Bruce smiled softly back to her, but it was quickly taken over by a more solemn, concerned, expression. "Can we talk outside for a moment, Talia? After all this, I think there's a lot we need to go over… privately." He nudged her out of the comfy hug.

Talia's smile immediately dropped, "Of… course," She stuttered, now remembering that Bruce had just learned tons of secrets in this one evening. Her head turned slightly back towards Ra's, "Please excuse us for a moment." Taking Bruce's hand, Talia led him outside to a nearby courtyard.

Once they got there, Bruce let out a long, painfully loud, groan. He flopped down onto one of the benches drowsily. Talia sat down with him, letting out a smaller groan herself. They sat there, with all masks and forced smiles dropped for an awkward minute or two. Their eyes were closed for the most of it, only flickering open every few seconds.

"I assume you want to break up with me, anyway." Talia finally spoke, her words slow and quiet above the peeps of nearby crickets. She stared straight down at the ground, neglecting to blink or let the aching tears stream out of her eyes. Bruce slowly looked up at her. Both their heads were still dropping forwards for the most part, but he peered at her from the corner of his eye. Another gap of silence stood between them before he finally opened his mouth to answer her question.

"...No, not necessarily." Bruce finally answered. He looked back down at his lap, avoiding any kind of eye contact. Her chin twitched upwards at the good news. But as he spoke again, Talia's chin lowered. "But… out of curiosity, if I did, would your father kill me?"

"Well… yes, probably." Her skirt gently flew up, caught in the airy breeze. She breathed in and out, as slow and soft as the wind. Bruce bit his lip, pouting ever so slightly. He swallowed in consideration. "But I would try my best to stop it from happening, Beloved. As much as it would ache me, I would never want you to die, of course. …..You could fake your own death." She suggested, finally lifting her chin enough to really look at him.

Bruce flinched, but kept his head down, "I'd… rather not do that." A muffled groan escaped his lips. Talia's lips quivered at the uncomfortable sound. Her head dropped again, spinning towards the opposite direction. As she turned away, Bruce continued thinking over his options. Everything felt wrong, but somehow right in an odd way. They sat in silence for another couple minutes as he fell deep into his thoughts.

"You promised," Talia suddenly blurted out. Tears had begun to well up in the corners of her eyes. She continued to look away from him, hiding the weak, desperate look on her face. "You promised you wouldn't blame me for them….. You promised." Her voice was careful as she attempted to keep her tone as calm as possible.

Bruce nodded, "You're right," He stated. For a second, but only for a second, did his voice crack into a much shakier tone. It pained him to look at her, to hear her faltering voice, and most of all, to know that she hadn't truly done a thing. At least, as far as he knew. "Your father's a criminal. The leader of a league dedicated to murder. So, with that knowledge in mind…. How many people have you murdered?"

Talia gulped, "You- You don't want to know." She shook her head shamefully. Bruce winced at the cold, gut-wrenching answer. "You and I both know you don't truly want to hear the answer to that question." She repeated. Talia pressed her eyes closed, letting tears seep out out and on to her trembling cheeks. Bruce was going to go. She was sure of it.

"Why…? Why would you-" Bruce stuttered. He finally fully lifted his head to face the apparent-murderer. Talia turned even farther away from him in response.

"Can't you see? My father is an ecoterrorist, Beloved. A mass-murderer. A genocidal maniac. I spent my entire childhood in his care… Of course I've killed for him!" Her voice rose a bit. Talia's eyes peered back at Bruce to see his reaction, but she didn't move a muscle in her neck to truly look at him. "I swear on my life, I didn't enjoy it. But I couldn't let him down. I still can't let him down. He's still my father, and… I can't betray my own family, can I?" She wrapped her arms around herself. A sad look sparkled in her eyes, almost mirroring the stars above them.

Bruce felt a tinge of anger run up his spine, "But…. you want to, don't you?" Talia's neck shook as her head flopped even closer to her lap. He moved his hand a bit closer to her, considering whether he should place it on her shoulder or not.

"Maybe I do," Talia whispered, her words barely audible. It was if she was simply mouthing them to herself. She squeezed her eyes shut as she spoke the tiny, quiet, little words. As she slowly opened them again, she gradually turned her head to finally face him. Their eyes met for a moment, "But maybe I don't. It's more complicated than that, Beloved ..." Her head still faced him, but her eyes broke out of the eye contact. They wandered in the opposite direction wistfully.

Bruce sucked in his lips, every muscle in his body cramping together. He resisted every urge in himself to touch her, hug her... or simply just reach a bit closer to hold hands. She was a murderer. He shouldn't have felt this way, he knew he shouldn't, but the urges were there. Bruce. Still. Loved. Her. It hurt to say the words inside his head, but not quite as much as it hurt to deny it. He kept his hand still, worried even a small vibration of movement could result in him fully wrapping his arms around Talia. But as he focused on stillness in his body, Bruce felt another hand reach over and squeeze his.

"All I know now, Beloved… is that I don't want to betray you." Talia looked straight at him now, adjusting her entire body to lean towards him. Bruce looked straight at her, as well. Her green eyes were glossy, with wet tears glistening in the moonlight. "We could still work out. My father actually seems to admire you, and I do, as well, but…. I'm not sure if you return such admiration…. After everything you've learned."

"You have a point," Bruce pushed himself off the bench. He began to tread forward, wandering around the courtyard. "I lose nothing from staying with you… except perhaps my lack of relations with murderers. It's not like I'm completely innocent myself. I may not have taken anyone's life, but I certainly started some fires against people who didn't completely deserve it. My poor math teacher…. Besides, I made a promise." He paced back and forth, gradually walking faster and faster|.

Talia sighed, "But that promise only included what my family did," She stood up with him. "They are my murders, not my-"

"Yes," He looked down for a moment, lost in thought yet again. His mouth rested in an aloof frown. Bruce's eyes narrowed. "But even then, it's more than clear you wouldn't be such a murderer if it weren't for where you were raised. Blaming you for such a thing could be considered breaking my promise either way." His hands spun up and down, gesturing as he explained his logic.

Talia's hand reached over to his, "Please… I'm not some kind of damsel in distress. I may have tears coming out of my eyes, and I may look pathetic right now, but…you still must make the choice that suits your heart. I don't want your pity." Her eyebrows arched, a stern focus taking over. Bruce's hands stopped twirling. A stillness crept over, with her hand just barely resting on his arm peacefully.

"-And I will not give you any, Talia," Bruce cleared his throat. Finally giving in to the undying urges, he wrapped his arms around her. Talia felt him pull her into a soft embrace. "Even through mistakes, and even, well... crimes, there is one thing standing. One thing other than pity- and that is love. It may make me crazy for doing so, or even a criminal, but I will give you mine."

"What does that even mean, though?" Talia asked, looking downwards. Her eyelids flapped up and down as she quickly blinked. "I… suppose it doesn't even matter, does it? Not now, anyhow… If you will give me your love, then I will give you mine." She quickly peeked back up, now with a wide smile across her face.

"I think we both know what that means, then… and what it doesn't." Bruce sighed, carefully taking a step back from Talia. Their loving embrace loosened. Talia's smile began to drop, but still not fully hit a frown. "I'm sorry. I… may have gotten lost in the fairytales there. Or maybe I was right. I'm not even sure anymore, Talia…"

Talia took deep breaths as she thought everything he was saying over, "You… you said thought we both knew what it meant… and what it didn't, of course. But perhaps…" Her hand, hesitant and unsure, began to slowly nudge him back towards her. Despite his overall reluctance, he easily let her lead him in the movement. "Perhaps for now… we can just focus on what it does mean, Beloved." She whispered the endearing nickname, a hopeful smile appearing on his face. Bruce couldn't help but smile back.

With their arms already wrapped tightly around each other, Talia slowly began to lean in for a kiss. Bruce closed his eyes, gently following her affectionate behavior. Both of their soft hugs towards the other one tightened even more as they leaned in close. The soft glow of the moon shimmered behind them as they finally kissed. Talia and Bruce held the other one happily. Happy. Even for just a moment, they were happy.

[fanfickittycat]

Time After Time

TITLE: Time After Time

CHAPTER NUMBER/ONE SHOT: One Shot

AUTHOR: fanfickittycat

FANDOM: Haikyuu!!

CHARACTERS/PAIRING: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader

GENRE: Hurt/Comfort

FIC SUMMARY: The lack of a response after confessing your feelings to Ushijima leaves you heartbroken, but all it took was some time

RATING: T 

AUTHORS NOTES/WARNINGS: My stupid sad brain and my desire to write about Ushijima combined to make this. If you’d like to read it on AO3 you can find it here

The words hung in the air as soon as they left your mouth. After the months of pining, and dreaming, and trying to get him to confess first, you had finally decided to bite the bullet and admit that you were hopelessly in love with the Ace of the Schweiden Adlers. The silence that followed was painful. You avoided his gaze, instead looking at your shoes, a pair of dark heels that you were hoping would bolster your confidence. In fairness to them, they had made you feel powerful and poised, but now it felt like balancing on stilts.

“Oh” his deep voice rumbled, breaking through your thoughts and sending the butterflies in your stomach fluttering all at once. You peeked up to look at him. He was so handsome. Tall and solid, with his bag slung over his shoulder from practise earlier in an effortless way that you admired. He always looked so cool without even meaning to. He was looking up at the pinks and oranges of the sky, letting the light of the setting sun cast his face in gold. Your heart somersaulted in your chest as you waited for something to follow. Anything. But he remained quiet, as the spring breeze ruffled his hair.

Dread began to set in. The flush of embarrassment and the chill of rejection created a cocktail of emotion inside of you, but you pressed your lips together and forced the sob in your throat to stay still. You knew you were going to cry and there was no stopping it, you just wanted to make sure you were away from him before the tears spilled.

“I-it’s okay” you said, your throat felt hoarse even though you hadn’t said much. You attempted to straighten up, to show him that you accepted his refusal of your affection. You tilted your head up, feeling the threat of tears in your eyes. Your lip quivered but you stayed rigid in your stance.

“I’m sorry I bothered you” you managed to say before a hot tear streamed down your face. You turned, letting go of a breath you had been holding for what felt like weeks. You marched away, willing your legs to take steps even though it felt like you suddenly forgot how to walk. You rounded a corner and stepped back so that the cool exterior of one of the buildings pressed against your back. You had half hoped to hear footsteps following after you; a cry of your name or something. Nothing. Dizziness filled your mind and you slid down the wall, hugging your legs to your chest as you wept into your knees. You knew you were being pathetic but really, you had believed that there was something there. Ushijima was always standoffish, but you had felt something kindled between you, a soft warmth that emitted every time his lips tugged into a small smile for you, or the way he’d listen to you and offer his advice sagely. Last week you had gone to a practise game of his and you’d cheered loudly enough to catch his attention. He had waved to you and even though the action was small it made you mindlessly happy for days. His cold demeanour meant that he didn’t do things like that for just anyone… But perhaps his tiny gestures were just that, insignificant. Maybe he was humouring you? Perhaps he smiled just because it was the basic kind thing to do; and he listened and offered advice because he wanted you to stop going on about your problems; maybe he just waved because he was being polite. The realisation sunk deep into you, seeping into your bones. You felt heavy and tired by the revelation. You stood up shakily, grasping at the brick wall behind you for support. You ended up grazing your hand a little, but the soreness felt good in a weird way. It brought your attention away from the turmoil in your heart. You made yourself walk home, wanting to take your time because you were afraid of having to confront the emotional maelstrom in you again. You felt like hell when you woke up the next morning. Your eyes burned, and when you rubbed them, you winced at the soreness. They felt swollen. Your nose hurt too from the constant blowing, and your mouth felt dry and stale. Pathetic was the first word in your mind. Followed quickly by sad, tragic, and pitiable. You had things to do today, places to be that weren’t your bedroom. You ran through the list of chores in your head: it was Saturday so you should change your sheets today, and clean the bathroom, and you needed to make a grocery list and go out to buy the stuff, and then you should get a head start on some work that would make Monday easier. You closed your eyes again and when you opened them two hours had gone by. You groaned into your pillow. Not only were you unfortunate, but you were also now behind on everything. A true mess. You pushed yourself to go take a shower, making the water colder than you usually liked in an attempt to shock you back to life.

You completed your tasks at home, but you felt lifeless doing it, like a zombie. The satisfaction that came with completing the chores didn’t come. You hoped the fresh air would help, and looked over your grocery list, feeling listless. You didn’t want to put any effort into the way you looked today, opting to throw on a pair of jeans that were ripped at the knee not because they came like that, but because they were old. Your hoodie was huge on you, but you had bought it with the deluded intention that this is what it would feel like to wear Ushijima’s. You looked at his clothes so fondly sometimes, jealous of the way they got to be so close to him. One night he had lent you his jacket because it was colder than the weather reports had predicted and you almost swooned. His jacket was sturdy and warm like him, and it smelt vaguely minty and clean like him. You had ended up falling asleep in his jacket, liking the way it felt like he was holding you.

The memory flooded back into your mind when you browsed the soap section, prompting your heart to race as you looked for his brand. When your eyes landed on it felt like a relief. A painful one, perhaps, but a relief all the same. Your hands hovered near the bottle. This was a way to stay close to him even when you couldn’t physically be with him. A link to the stoic man who had your heart. It was a little more expensive than the one you usually bought, and it stung that your normal brand was on sale, but you wanted to allow yourself one indulgence.

Outside the air was colder than last night. You’d heard something this morning about a cold spell hitting Tokyo as you folded your laundry, and you wished that you brought a scarf with you. Your arms ached from the weight of the bag in your hands. In the process of psyching yourself up to face the world you had forgotten your own bags and had to pay for some in the supermarket. The plastic, though biodegradable, felt thin in your cold hand. You gripped it tightly and turned to go home but your determination was interrupted by the thump of items hitting the ground.

“Fuck” you cursed under your breath, looking down at your groceries strewn about on the pavement. You could’ve cried there and then.

“I didn’t know you favoured this brand too” your blood turned to ice as your eyes snapped to the figure before you. He regarded the bottle calmly before starting to pick up the pack of spaghetti, and the bag of apples.

“U-Ushijima?” You hated that you stuttered but your mind was completely blank at this point. You couldn’t even fathom how you were able to form that many syllables.

“Here” he started to pile your things into his own empty bag.

“W-wait.” You put a handout to stop him, but he ignored you, continuing to put the rest of your things in his own grocery bag.

“It’s cold. Didn’t you hear the weather report?” He asked, finally standing to his full height. He looked down at you, head cocking to the side slightly like a spaniel. He began to unwind his scarf and placed it around your neck instead. The brush of his fingers against your bare neck made you shiver.

“What’re you doing?” you mumbled, looking down again. The sense of déjà vu was not lost on you as you regarded your everyday sneakers.

“I came to buy groceries” he said bluntly, and despite all the pain and anxiety coursing through you, you smiled. He was always so reliable.

“I was hoping I would run into you” he said after a beat, his hand held your chin making you gasp. He tilted it up, so you were no longer looking down, and this time he was meeting your gaze. His dark olive eyes bore into your own with an intensity that was difficult to hold.

“You don’t need to apologise or anything.”

“You’re wrong” he said “I do. I’m sorry.” You nodded at his words, disappointed once again that you were still holding out for him.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not, I…” he stopped himself, and pressed his lips into a firm line. You blinked a couple of times to make sure you were seeing things right. Ushijima was so candid all the time that the sight of him hesitating was new. He looked away momentarily.

“I return your affections” he said, and you stared in awe as a faint pink blush blossomed in his cheeks.

“You don’t have to say that.” He looked you in the eyes again, softer this time. His thumb absentmindedly began to stroke itself across your heated cheeks.

“Yes I do. I love you and I’m sorry I couldn’t say it yesterday.”

“Ushi…” you practically melted despite the chill in the air. He leaned down and pressed a kiss onto your forehead, making your head swim.

“Come” he said, letting go of your face in exchange for your hand “I’ll make dinner.” You made no attempt to protest against his wishes, instead letting him lead you in the direction of his own apartment.

“I love you too.”

[even-after-a-millennia]

Winter Wonders

Hey all!  This is my fic for the Andromaquynh Secret Santa exchange!  This fic is a gift for @kayivy so I hope that you like it!  Happy Holidays!

Read it below or on my ao3 account here.

When Andy and Quynh awoke, the world outside the safe house was blanketed in white.  Andy stretched, then pulled Quynh closer to ward off the chill in the air.  Quynh hummed, nestling her face deeper into the crook of Andy’s neck.

Andy took a moment to revel in the feel of her love tucked next to her.  It had only been a few months since they had been reunited.  A fraction of time, compared to their time apart.  It still felt so new.  Every moment of eye contact, every touch, every kiss, felt like a gift.

They’d had to work through the pain they had both gone through and come to terms with Andy’s mortality.  There were still times that Andy jerked awake, reaching for Quynh and half expecting for the bed beside her to be empty.  But she was always there, reaching back.

“Hey,” Andy said quietly.  “It snowed.”

“Hm?” Quynh murmured, still mostly asleep.

Andy kissed her temple, hoping to entice her to wake.  “It snowed last night.  The whole world is white out there.”

Quynh’s eyes blinked sleepily open, her brow furrowed at the light coming in from the window.  “I’m sure it’s pretty,” she muttered, putting her face back in the safety of Andy’s neck.  “But it is far too bright.”

Andy laughed softly.  “Take your time.”

“Food would help me wake.”

“Is that a not-so-subtle hint that you would like breakfast in bed?” Andy asked.

Quynh hummed again, seeming to fall back asleep.

Andy carefully maneuvered out of Quynh’s embrace, so as to not disturb her.  She threw a sweater over her pajamas and shuffled out to the main room, where Nicky was puttering around the kitchen as Joe sipped a cup of coffee at the table, barely looking awake himself.

“Nile still in bed?” Andy asked.

Joe nodded.

“Why aren’t you still sleeping?” Andy demanded.  “You are basically asleep sitting here!”

Joe shrugged and looked over to where Nicky was making him toast.  Nicky smiled softly at him, then turned back to the counter.

“Sap,” Andy told him as she got two cups of coffee ready.

Nicky raised an eyebrow at her, looking between her and the two cups without comment.

“Shut up,” she said with a laugh, pushing his shoulder.

Nicky’s eyes went behind Andy, her only warning before Quynh, wrapped in the quilt from their bed, wrapped her arms around Andy’s waist from behind.

“Andromache, it’s too cold in the bed without you…” she whined, pressing her cold nose into the spot right between Andy’s shoulder blades.  “Come back.”

Loosening Quynh’s hold on her with one hand, Andy spun around in her arms to face her, cup of coffee in her other hand.  “Here, this will warm you.”

Quynh took the coffee and took a sip.  “I still like you better.”

Andy laughed.  “Good to know I make a better personal heater than coffee.”

Quynh hummed, shuffling towards the table and sitting next to Joe, still cocooned in the blanket.  Joe stole a corner of it to wrap around his feet and they sat there together, sipping their coffee with their eyes mostly closed.

Nicky smiled at the scene and revealed the truly prolific amount of toast he had made.  Andy began to dig in the cupboards and fridge for toppings, grabbing everyone’s favorite.  Strawberry jam for Nicky, apricot jam for Joe, peanut butter with honey for Nile, butter for herself, and Nutella for Quynh.  She liked the sweetness and the novelty of it.

They ate in silence, though Andy did notice that Joe and Quynh’s eyes were slowly widening more as time past.

Nile came to the table as the others were finishing and scarfed down her food.

“Any plans for today?” she asked.

Nicky shrugged as Joe shook his head.  “Stay somewhere warm,” he added, pulling more of Quynh’s quilt toward himself.

Nile snorted.

“I would like to go out in the snow,” Quynh said resolutely.  She looked over at Andy.  “Will you come with me?”

“Of course.”

Which is how they found themselves out in the snow covered world outside not much later.  Joe had nagged them until they had bundled up.  Nile cackled when she saw them and said, still giggling, “I can’t put my arms down!”  She waved them away as they looked at her curiously.

Ah, it must be a reference to something.

The moment they stepped outside their warm safe house, Andy was glad of Joe’s aversion to the cold.  The only exposed part of her were her eyes and they watered as the cold wind hit them.  She glanced at Quynh, wanting to see how she was doing, dealing with the cold.  It had been cold at the bottom of the ocean.  She still shuddered when the shower’s temperature was too chilly and baths were out of the question.

Quynh’s eyes were crinkled in a way that Andy knew, through thousands of years of memorizing Quynh’s facial expressions, meant that she was grinning hugely underneath her scarf. 

“It’s so beautiful!” Quynh exclaimed before charging forward into the snow.

It was deep, almost up to her knees, and every step flung the snow to the side and behind her.  But still, she ran on, laughter echoing behind her as she went.

Andy grinned then chased after her.

Their safehouse was in the middle of the woods, so Andy had to dodge trees and be careful of roots hidden under the snow as she ran, but she loved it.  She loved the sensation of the cold wind against her cheeks, the cloud that every breath made in the cold air, the crunch of the snow under her feet.

She caught up to Quynh and grabbed her around the waist, twirling her around as she giggled and wiggled in her grasp.  Andy put her down only to push her against a tree and dragged down both of their scarves so their mouths could crash together.  At first, it was desperate, very fitting after the chase that had preceded it.  But in time it slowed.  Deepened.

Andy pulled away to breathe, then whispered against Quynh’s jaw, “Anh yêu em nhiều lắm.” 

I love you so much.

Quynh brought her in for another, quicker kiss.  “I love you, my Andromache.”

Andy saw the shift in Quynh’s eyes from loving to mischievous and had a bare moment to jump away before Quynh was flinging snow where she had just been standing.

“You little shit!” Andy said, laughing.

She had been laughing so much more since Quynh had come back into her life.

Quynh grinned at her and grabbed more snow, creating an arsenal of snowballs in a pile as Andy ducked behind a tree to do the same.

“Ready?” she heard Quynh called.  “It will be no fun unless it is a fair match.”

“One more minute!”

“Hurry, then!”

Andy shook her head, grinning, as she made snowball after snowball.

“Ready!”

“First to surrender loses!  Three, two, one!  GO!” Quynh shouted, immediately firing off a volley of snowballs at Andy.

Andy ducked and blocked most of them, but one did hit her in the shoulder.  She threw some back and the fight was on.  

The back and forth attacks lasted a good ten minutes more until Quynh rushed towards Andy and tackled her into the snow.  They wrestled for a bit, trying to get the upper hand, until Quynh finally got Andy’s hands under her knees as she knelt on top of her.  Andy tried to buck her off a few times, but it was no use.

She relaxed into the snow, trying to ignore the huge amount that was now inside her winter clothes and slowly melting against her skin.

“I yield,” she said, gazing up at Quynh.

Quynh grinned, then leaned down to kiss the tip of Andy’s nose.

“I like you like this,” she said, smiling down at her.

“Usually, I would agree, especially if you were seated a bit higher.  But I have snow melting down my neck and that is very uncomfortable.”

“Wimp,” Quynh teased, though she did get off Andy and helped pull her to her feet.  “Come on, let’s go get warm.”

They held hands as they went back to the cabin, all the way to the bathroom, where they began to strip off their frigid clothing.

“You got me good with one of those snowballs,” Andy said, looking in the mirror to see where she had been hit.  She stared at it, trying to reach it.

“...Quynh?”

“What is it, Andromache?”

“It’s healing.”

“What?!” Quynh demanded, whirling around to stare at Andy’s back.

As they watched, the bruise on Andy’s back became green, then yellow, then faded to nothing but smooth, unbruised skin.  They turned to stare at each other.

“Do you think-?”

“Maybe?”

“Here,” Quynh pulled out Nicky’s shaving kit.  “Just a small cut, my love.  I have to be sure.”

“Of course.”

Quynh drew the blade over the tip of Andy’s finger.  They watched as the blood welled.  Glancing at each other, Quynh reached out to wipe off the blood.

The cut was no longer there.

They stared at each other, stunned.  Then, slowly, a smile grew on Quynh’s face even as her eyes welled with tears.

“My beautiful Andromache,” she said, her voice choked with tears, “I think we get to have a bit more time together.”

Andy began smiling too, then laughed.  Quynh joined and threw her arms around Andy.  Andy buried her face into Quynh’s hair and realized that Quynh’s laughter had turned to sobs.

There was a knock on the door.  

“Guys?  Everything okay?” Nile asked.

They pulled away from each other and opened the door, both not wearing shirts and not caring a bit.  

“She’s healing!” Quynh sobbed, beaming.

“She’s-”  Nile’s eyes widened.  “Nicky, Joe, get over here!”

They clambered over each other in the haste to get to the bathroom.

“What? What is wrong?” Nicky demanded, eyes darting around, looking for a threat.

“Andy is healing,” Nile stated, still staring at Andy with wide eyes.

Joe and Nicky rounded on her.  “WHAT?”

Andy nodded, grabbing the razor again.  She dragged it across her fingertip again, put down the razor, and wiped the blood.  She had expected for it to not be real, but when she wiped away the blood, the wound was gone.

Her immortality was really back.

She got to have more time.