#and when I found out my mind instantly went to silent hill 2

[astarkey]

Spotify Wrapped Meme: Free choice + 4. Black Nurse // Glassjaw for @musicrunsthroughmysoul

[staycalmandhugaclone]

The Vacation (1/4)

I shared a sexy blurg the other day, but felt it really needed a bit of before and after, so here's how that vacation starts. This is a section from a much, much longer fic that may or may not be fully shared, but the important info is that Crosshair went off on his own after season 1, and the OC (Alya) used to be with Hunter, but after getting captured by the Empire, she was pretty messed up and couldn't stay with him, thus began traveling with Crosshair. By this time, they've been working together for about a year, purely platonic (they share a bed for nightmare reasons and because I like cuddles).

Pairing: Crosshair x Female Original Character (Alya)

WC: 5.4k

Summary: After a perilous mission, Crosshair surprises Alya with a vacation, and Alya surprises Crosshair with feelings.

Rating: Explicit 18+, language, vague references to negative experiences in past relationship (kinda?)

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI. So much smut, fingering, some overstimulation, a touch of self-deprecation . Reference to negative previous relationship, but it's pretty vague. Even a bit of aftercare. It's a smut chapter to start more smut chapters. Seriously.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

I’d only just finished unpacking my supplies when I felt the ship rumble to life. The several weeks this job had granted us the use of an actual house had been… different. So many years had passed since that was a normal part of life. It was bittersweet to have had that again for such a short amount of time, but returning to the familiar rooms of the ship was its own comfort. The Event Horizon had become synonymous with home, and, despite the lingering desire to return to a life comforted by the routine of waking to the same atmosphere, the same view of sprawling hills or cozy neighborhoods, I knew none of it was worth trading the life I’d created here.

At the subtle lurch of entering hyperspace, I turned my attention down the hall toward the cockpit, just able to see a glimpse of pale hair around the headrest of the pilot’s chair. Last time we left before refueling, it was because I’d been recognized, forcing us to flee. The last job had been wrought with near disaster, but I didn’t think there was any threat of being reported, but the mere possibility set my heart racing.

“You… didn’t want to stock up first?” I felt the hesitation in my voice, testing his response before risking any theories.

“No.” He said nothing more, despite the several seconds of silence that followed.

“O..kay…” I muttered, studying him, searching for any hint of his motives. “Got us in lightspeed pretty quickly… Do you… already have a destination in mind, or”

“Yes.” He interrupted. Again, I waited, but his façade remained perfectly emotionless.

“Crosshair.” I finally grumbled, patience dwindling. Finally, the edges of his lips hinted at the beginnings of a smirk, and I let out a huff of breath. No danger – he was just toying with me. “Fine. Don’t tell me.” I stated indifferently and turned to leave the cockpit. His hand instantly darted back to catch my wrist, eyes rolling before nodding to the nav screen. My impatience instantly fled beneath the confusion.

“Alderaan?” The name left my lips in a question. “You found a job on Alderaan?” For the briefest moment, doubt touched those steadfast eyes and he turned back to the streams of passing stars dancing beyond the viewport, hand tightened briefly around my wrist before letting go.

“Figured we’d… ‘take some time’.” The way he said the words made me pause. Familiar. Why did… My lips parted in a silent gasp, heat flooding my chest. The planet of beauty. How many months – years – had passed since I’d asked him that – if he ever took time to enjoy the beauty of visiting foreign lands? “Unless you’ve had your fill of that planet. Just figured we hadn’t really stopped to… how did you put it? ‘Appreciate’ things like that.” I was silent a moment longer; stunned. “Or we’ll just”

“No-no!” I finally sputtered, lips pulling in a wide grin. “That… sounds perfect, Cross… Thank you.” I watched the back of his neck flush as he let out a small grunt. Forcing myself to ignore the flood of affection at the mere sight if it, I dropped lightly into the copilot’s seat, smile still plastered over my lips.

“I was only there for a few days – barely saw anything more than snow. Have you already chosen a place?” Knees tucking to my chest, I turned to find him watching me from the corner of his eyes, smirk once more just touching his lips.

“You could say that.” He nearly purred, and a quiet laughter escaped me.

“Mr Tough Guy vying for a vacation.” I teased, nose crinkling slightly.

“Figured we earned it after that.” He dismissed. My smile almost fell, but I forced it back. I wouldn’t let the memory of what had almost happened darken my excitement.

“How long were you thinking?” I asked, voice quieting slightly. He seemed to hesitate before answering.

“Figure we can leave if we get bored sooner, but… I booked a place for a month.” There was an uncertainty in his voice that I’d focus on soon, but… a month. He shifted slightly beneath my stare. “Never had more than a few days between missions,” He explained stiffly, “Thought I’d see what the fuss was about.” A month. No jobs, no fights. Just a month on Alderaan. With him. I thought my heart was going to tear through my chest.

“And what if it spoils you?” I asked coyly, a cheeky grin stretching across my lips. He cocked an eyebrow and glanced sideways at me. “What if you find you like that life so much, you never want to go back?”

“Then I’ll extend the rental.” He replied blankly, earning a fresh huff of laughter from me. I let myself lean back, gaze turning blindly to the blurs of hyperspace before me.

-

The breath caught in my throat as his hand crept up my side, fire seeping through my flesh in the wake of his lingering touch. I could taste the heat of him filling the air between us and let myself reach for him, fingers roaming up the sweeping planes of his tone chest, over the taut ridges of muscled shoulders, core igniting at the heat of bare skin pressing against mine. Letting one arm lock around my hips, holding me tightly against him, his other hand slid up my neck, clawing into my hair. I felt the eagerness of him, heard the tension in his faltering breaths as he strained for control; felt the paltry breadth of distance between us as I felt myself stretching up to find him, breath catching in a whimper as I breathed his name, and I burned beneath him. I needed to feel him against me; my hands on his chest, my legs around his hips.

Alya. My name on his lips. Alya, come on… open your eyes. His lips on

“Need to wake up.” My eyes flew open, chest trembling beneath rushed breaths, skin damp with sweat, and, when I saw him, when those weary golden eyes met mine in the darkness, I couldn’t help but gasp, shying further into the arm wrapped around my shoulder as though those few inches would erase the lingering heat from that dream. Instantly, he pulled away, straining to create some hint of distance between us.

“Just a nightmare, Alya.” He murmured, all weariness fleeing him. Lip caught between my teeth, I had to turn away, the memory of his touch still echoing over my skin, straining to force myself under control, to breathe. “Alya?” I couldn’t help but flinch, too eager to hear my name on his lips again… but the horror that stole over him left me floundering.

“Was it… was it about me?” He barely managed to whisper the words. I don’t think I’d ever seen that kind of raw hurt in his eyes before… not without a careful layer of anger, disinterest. No, this was just hurt. “I…” His lips shifted wordlessly, pulling even further from me, and my heart dropped.

“N- wait… wait.” I pleaded, letting myself turn into him. He didn’t move, body so impossibly still as he waited for me to touch him. I tried to speak, tried to form the words as my hands trembled in the miniscule space between us.

“It… was…” My fingers slipped over his jaw. “It was… about you.” I finally breathed, gaze locked on his as confusion settled over his face. My thumb trailed over the ridge of his cheekbone. “But it wasn’t a nightmare.” His frown deepened, struggling to make sense of my words, before his expression finally went blank. He didn’t move; didn’t speak, eyes burring into mine.

“Cross?” I felt so small suddenly, his name slipping from my lips in something too near a whimper, body trembling ever so faintly as I waited for some manner of response… some sign of what he was thinking.

Slowly, so impossibly slowly, his hands crept over mine, gaze never fleeing mine. Without a word, he leaned forward, and when his lips finally danced against mine I felt my heart lurch into my chest, fire tearing through me with such force, it wrenched a near silent sob of relief from my throat. So slowly, he kissed me, as though waiting for me to pull away, certain I’d refuse him if he but breathed too quickly, but I couldn’t think how to reassure him, body alight and stunned and desperate for every second of his touch.

His fingers slipped through mine, clutching my hands against him as his body swelled with a slow, deep breath, and I couldn’t silence the wisp of a moan from catching in my throat. As though that tiny sound had finally given him permission, he let himself reach for me, hands sliding up my arms, around my shoulders, tugging me closer to him. My fingers slipped through the soft velvet of his hair, lips parting as I begged him to kiss me deeper. Without hesitation, he slid his tongue against mine, wrenching another moan from me as that heat burst through my core.

I let my hands drag down his chest, savoring every shift of those powerful muscles as he pulled me closer, one arm looping beneath my head while his other locked around my back. My touch trailed lower, feeling the coiled muscles over his ribs seize with each stolen breath, fingers dancing against his spine as he slowly leaned over me, thrilled to find me all too eager to feel his weight press me into the mattress. Lower. I tugged impatiently at the bottom of his shirt, desperate for the heat of his skin against mine.

Panting, he pulled back, gazing at me drunkenly as his mouth worked silently over unspoken words for several seconds before letting his tongue dart over his lips. I felt myself reach for him, abs tensing to taste those lips once more, but forced myself to wait.

“Is this what you want?” He finally gasped. Jaw going taut as soon as the question escaped him. I could have sobbed from the warmth that shot through my chest. Nodding, I let myself lean up, lips locked into a smile as I kissed him. The air left him in something near a growl, movements growing almost frantic for the few seconds he let himself kiss me back before pressing his forehead to mine, forcing some whisper of air between us.

“Say it.” He nearly growled, pulling back enough to find my eyes once more. His hand reached up to brush over my cheek as I fought to remember how to speak, and I couldn’t help but melt into his touch.

“Yes.” I finally breathed. “Crosshair… yes… yes… I want this – I want you.” Instantly, his lips crashed against mine, tongue hot and desperate and torturous, forcing a whimper from me as I pulled once more at his shirt. That growl caught in his throat as he leaned back onto his knees just long enough to wrench his shirt over his head, launching it thoughtlessly across the room before he was on me again.

That split second I saw him, the way his muscles rippled from that simple, rushed movement left me writhing, legs shifting eagerly beneath him as a desperate moan caught in my throat, vanishing against his lips. My hands roamed greedily over his exposed skin, delighting in the scolding heat burning against me.

“Wanna see you.” He snarled, hand dragging down my side, pausing against my hip to let his thumb slip under my shirt. The fresh burst of desperation from his touch wrenched a fresh moan from me, and I had to remember how to nod; how to breathe.

“Please… fuck, Cross, please.” I gasped, hands clinging to him for a moment longer before reaching for my shirt, but he was already pulling at the buttons with an impatience I knew too well. Scowling, he glanced down for a mere heartbeat before wrenching it open, deaf to the clatter of metal scattering to the floor. And I couldn’t help but laugh, torso arching up against him, eagerly hunting his lips before letting my kiss trail down to his jaw as he focused on guiding my arms from the sleeve; his neck, savoring the feel of his pulse beneath my tongue, my teeth, body nearly caving from the low grown that rippled through his chest. He wrenched me against him, arms pulling me up to kneel before him as he wrestled with the fabric. A gasp tore through me from the flush of lust violently twisting and churning in me anew at the feel of his bare torso against mine.

Shirt abandoned to some nonexistent corner, he let his hands slide up my hips, my stomach and ribs, back around my shoulders until they tangled into my hair, forcing my lips back to his. I didn’t hesitate as he eased me back once more, body all too eager to obey his every hinted desire as he laid me down against the mattress. He didn’t wait before letting his lips roam, taking his time to press soft kisses against my cheek, my forehead, hands cradling my jaw, lips following down my hair line. I nearly cried out as his teeth snapped so carefully at the soft skin just beneath my ear, desperation growing, hands clawing at his back as shuttered breaths caught between my teeth.

“Tell me you want this.” He ordered again, voice almost hoarse. A moan sobbed from me as his tongue dragged against my throat before he sucked the skin gently between his teeth.

“I want this.” I whimpered. “Fuck, I want you, Cross… Please… ple” His hips ground against me, wrenching the air from my lungs in a desperate cry, arms locking around his shoulders as my back arched into him. Again, his teeth snapped at me, harder, nearly breaking me as every gasp left in a whimper, begging for him. I wanted to sob when his mouth abandoned my neck, kissing down my chest as his hands encircled my waist.

“Fu- ah… Cross…” The heat of his mouth hovered over my nipple, just letting his heavy breaths wash over it as he looked up at me, my arms locked around his head. His lips only just twitched up in a smirk as his tongue finally slid against that eager flesh, ruining me as I trapped him against my chest, head slamming back into the mattress, as my back arched, heels dragging absently atop the sheets. The instant I felt his hands shift to ease the fabric from my waist, I eager raised my hips to help him.

“Good girl.” He murmured against me, eyes dark as they took in how easily I came undone beneath his touch, tongue returning to torture my breast for just a moment longer before shifting to taste my ribs, my stomach as he pulled the shorts down my hips, my thighs, revealing just how desperate I was for him. He left one more kiss along the crest of my hip before pulling away. He dropped my shorts thoughtless as he stepped back, eyes devouring my exposed form.

Jaw parted, torso rocking with desperate breaths, I could only stare at him. Even in the dark, the play of muscles beneath lightly marred skin as he stood over me left me throbbing, begging for him to touch me as I looked up into the rich honey of his eyes to find him staring right back at me.

“So fucking beautiful.” The words sighed almost silently from him. Still, it washed over me like silk and, when his hand finally reached for me, when that feather-light touch finally whispered over my hip, up my stomach, fingers sliding between my breasts, up my throat; my jaw; when he held me like that, like I was the most precious thing he’d ever seen, it left me breathless. His thumb brushed against my lower lip like I was made of glass, half-lidded eyes studying my every movement, jaw tensing in anticipation as I opened my mouth, shifting just enough to hide the tip behind my lips, tongue sliding against his skin. His teeth snapped together, air fleeing him in a sharp, muffled groan.

I let my fingers whisper around his wrist, holding him against me as I slowly pushed myself up, slipping from the mattress to stand just in front of him as I sucked his thumb deeper into my mouth, eyes never leaving his. Scowl twitching over his lips, he slid his hands into my hair, drawing my lips back to his. I welcomed the kiss; needed it as though it were the only thing keeping my heart beating, savoring his taste even as my hands slid down the dancing muscles of his stomach before grasping at his pants. His kiss didn’t waver as I tugged at the fabric, effortlessly releasing the clasp with one hand, the other already pushing the fabric from his hips.

The growl that tore through his chest when I first touched him sent an inferno raging through every fiber of my being; burning, desperate. Wrist twisting slightly, I wrapped my hand around him, let my fingers treasure the heat of velvet skin around the throbbing length, memorizing that look on his face, head craning back as he merely allowed himself to become a slave to the sensations, expression twisted into something so near pain, hands clutching onto me; my hair; my shoulder, chest jolting beneath broken gasps.

The need in his eyes when he finally looked back at me left my knees weak. That growl still rumbling from his chest, he threw himself back at my lips, pushing me back until I collapsed against the bed once more, releasing him in that split second of falling. Before I could think to reach for him again, his fingers slid up my thigh, and nothing existed beyond that touch. His mouth slid back against my throat. He slowed just before he reached me, wrenching a desperate whimper from my lips.

“Please… Cross-Crosshair, please,” I begged, one hand locked around his shoulder while the other clawed through his hair. I could feel the smile on his lips as he finally touched me. A violent, desperate moan tore from my throat, mind vanishing beyond the gentle movement of those fingers as he toyed with me, sliding just between my lips. Slowly dragging over that impossibly sensitive mound before continuing along the throbbing flesh, skin already slick with my need as he worked his way back up to rub gently against my clit.

“Look at me.” He growled, movements never slowing. Body nearly shivering beneath his touch, I forced myself to open my eyes, to search for him. As soon as I found those eyes, saw the hunger in them, the lust, he slipped a finger inside me, and I sobbed beneath the violent wave of relief and need and pleasure that rippled up my core, gooseflesh dancing across my skin. I couldn’t help but writhe against him, thighs locking around his wrist even as every muscle begged for more. He toyed with me for mere seconds before slipping another finger in, and I collapsed to the mattress, pleasure bursting through me in waves.

“Look at me.” He ordered again, emphasizing it with a flick of his thumb over my clit and wrenching a sharp cry from me. Again, I forced my eyes open, instantly finding him. He began pumping into me, thumb continuing to work over that wretched bundle of nerves, sending a delicious need through me.

“Good.” He praised as I struggled to keep my gaze locked on him. Faster.

“Crosshair.” I whimpered, body growing violently desperate, nerves beginning to panic.

“You know how fucking good my name sounds on your lips?” He snarled, forcing himself even faster. My feet scraped against the mattress, back arching, coiled, pressure locking my muscles.

“Cro-Crosshair, I can’t… I… fuck, I can’t,” Words, whimpers, pleas gasped from me, “Cro-Crosshair!” His name screamed from my lips as that tension finally boiled over, rippling up my body in ecstasy even as I strained to escape him. His mouth locked over mine, devouring my whimpers as I seized against him; against the now gentle, slow thrusting of his hand, each careful movement just enough to reignite that mind-consuming dance of fire beneath my skin, until I was trembling, gasping against him, and he finally stilled.

“Do you still want this?” He asked, face hidden against my neck. Wrong. Something about how he asked felt wrong. Limbs still shaking, I reached for him, hands sliding over his cheeks to ease his gaze back to mine.

“You.” I corrected before even realizing what that wrongness was. “I want you.” Something in him seemed to quiet, and there was something so perfectly right about it. “I want you, Crosshair.” Without giving him a change to respond, I pulled him back against me, moaning eagerly at his taste. I leaned back, easing him down with me. He didn’t hesitate, hand slipping from between my legs as he rolled overtop of me.

I felt the dew of sweat beading against his chest, felt the incredible care governing his every movement as my thighs tightened eagerly around his hips. And, when he finally touched me, head just brushing against me, my back arched with a fresh whimper, hands almost clawing at him as my hips tilted desperately to meet him.

“Please,” I whispered between kisses, “Please, Crosshair,” words tangling between gasped breaths, “fuck, I need you… please.” He pulled back enough to look in my eyes, to see the raw truth in my words, and he slowly pushed into me. My jaw fell open in a gasp, that burst of nerves again rippling through every inch of my body. My teeth clicked together against a twinge of pain, flesh stretching around him, and he froze.

“Alya?” The worry in his voice, how gently he called me… I wasn’t expecting that, heart bursting as I looked up at him, emotions roiling from the ecstasy still coursing through my veins, I couldn’t but stare, tears burning as they pooled in my eyes. Something like horror crossed his face and he started to pull back, sending a surge of panic through me.

“Wait!” I gasped, hands darting to his jaw, fingers whispering over his cheeks. “It’s alright… I’m alright.” I promised, a soft smile pulling at my lips. “It’s alright.” I whispered again, already desperate to taste him once more. “Cross,” I breathed against his lips, “Crosshair, don’t stop.” I sighed, begging him to kiss me. Muscles seizing, he lost himself in my lips, hesitating only until another moaned “please” escaped me before pushing against me once more. My body shook with a violent gasp, nerves alighting from the perfect fullness.

Panting, he hid against my neck, clinging to me in his desperate attempt to maintain some degree of restraint as he slowly pulled out before burying himself even deeper inside me, movements slow, precise. Still, my back arched into him, whimper choking in my throat, hand burying itself in his hair. Again, he paused, face nuzzling against me, lips kissing absently against that sensitive skin.

“Please,” I sobbed, “Cross, please don’t stop… don’t stop…” His chest bucked and his lips found mine, only whispering against me.

“Don’t want to hurt you.” He breathed, hiding from the very threat of the words as he kissed me with a tenderness that left me reeling. Thumb brushing along his cheekbone, I tried to guide his gaze to mine, but, brows knit together, he turned purposefully away, jaw taut.

“Hey.” I whispered, taking the opportunity to lay my lips against his forehead, his cheeks, his lips until he finally looked at me. “I’m alright.” I promised once more. “I’ll tell you if I need you to stop.” My thumb trailed over his lips. “So please… Crosshair, please… I want you.” I started to kiss him again but held myself back.

“Don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing you ask for it.” He murmured, and I couldn’t help but beam at him. Movements still slow, controlled, he pulled out again, eyes once more studying me before pushing back into me. Gasping, I let my head sink against his neck. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders, holding me against him as he fell into a tantalizingly slow rhythm, each thrust getting slightly deeper. Deeper. I could feel the nerves panicking. My hand locked around his hip terrified he’d stop even as I found myself terrified that he’d keep going; that he’d tear right through me.

“F… f-fuck…” I whimpered, spine arching into him. A grunt caught in his throat, and I felt that control finally begin to slip, getting just that much faster. My other hand darted to the sheets, fingers clinging to the soft fabric, hips rocking up to meet him even as that fear told me to run, that I couldn’t handle it; that it was too much, but that fear only made the promise of pleasure so much more potent. His hand found mine, untangling my fingers from the sheets to twine them through his own before locking my hand above my head.

“Cross!” His name tore from me in a gasp as he ground just that much deeper, thighs locking around his hips.

“Fuck, Alya… Keep saying my name.” He growled, hand tightening almost painfully around mine. My nails dug into his waist, nerves coiling, tightening from his every thrust.

“C-Crosshair, don’t… don’t stop,” I gasped. “Please… please don’t s…” I whimpered. Tighter. “Cross, I c- I can’t…” Sensing the panic seething through frantic nerves, he suddenly doubled his pace, each thrust sending bursts of fire up my spine, hips finally slamming fully into mine as he forced the entirety of his length into me. Abandoning his waist, my arm darted around his shoulder, desperate for something solid as my body seized on the verge of shattering beneath him, every gasp leaving in a rabid cry. Tighter. I was going to break.

“Cross, I can’t, I-fuck, fuck!” I sobbed. A violent cry erupted from me as I finally snapped, arms going numb, fingertips tingling as that wave of fire poured through me. Abandoning my hand, he gripped my hip with enough force to leave bruises, movements growing desperate as he rocked me even harder against him. My chest slammed into him, back arching violently, body panicking beneath screaming nerves even as my arms locked him against me begging for more. His movements grew desperate, face tucked into my neck as something like a whimper of his own caught in his throat. My hands clawed through his hair, every thrust forcing a fresh cry from my lips; too much. Too much. Nearly sobbing, I cried his name, begging for something I couldn’t name.

With a sharp, almost pained gasp, he wrenched himself out of me, body seizing for a few seconds longer before going still beyond the unsteady, shuttered gasps. Chest bucking beneath lungs starving for some taste of air, I could only hide beneath him, arms still clinging to his shoulders as my muscles tried to remember how to loosen. Hand slowly shifting from my hip, he pushed himself up onto his elbow, just lessening the weight of him against me. With only the sound of uneven breaths filling the room, he touched his cheek to mine, pausing a moment before he pressed his lips to the sensitive skin just beneath my ear, shifting almost lazily along my jaw, up my cheeks, delicately touching both of my eyelids, my forehead, before finally claiming my lips once more.

Even through the exhaustion weighing down on me, I lit up beneath that touch, hands eagerly reaching to cup his cheeks, fingers just whispering into his hair before sliding down his jaw as though that might keep him against me for just a moment longer before he finally pulled back, forehead resting gently against mine.

“Are you alright?” He breathed, refusing to look at me once more.

“Mhm.” I hummed absently with a weak nod, wanting nothing more than to sink into the mattress, hidden against his warmth, but that wasn’t enough. He slid his arm from behind my head and carefully caught my chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting my gaze to his.

“Are you alright?” He asked again, and again I found myself smiling, fingers absently roaming over the sharp planes of his face for the sheer joy of touch.

“I’m fine, Cross.” I whispered, a small chuckle catching in my throat. His thumb shifted to wipe at the line of tears that had fallen from my eyes, and my grin grew. Without another word, I leaned up to steal just one more kiss before letting myself slip boneless to the mattress. When I looked back up at him, my heart skipped at the sight of that tiny smile on his lips. With a sigh, he settled beside me, arms absently pulling me to his chest as he buried his face in my hair. Warm. Safe. Like nothing else could possibly matter. Bliss. I felt bliss as I laid against him.

“We should clean up.” He sighed against my scalp, and I couldn’t help but pout slightly. The instant I heard that quiet chuckle ripple through his chest, I knew there was nothing I wouldn’t do to hear him laugh forever. “Come on.” He pressed, propping himself up on an elbow once more. “Think you can stand?” I pretended to debate it a moment before peaking at that still smirking face, and unable to fight back the grin, shook my head. He let out a forced sigh and slipped out from under me.

"Suit yourself." He called over his shoulder, started toward the door.

“Hey!” I tried to shout, but the effect was lost in the laughter I couldn’t quite bite back. Before I’d begun to push myself up, however, his arms slipped beneath me, hoisting me to his chest. That laughter escaped me anew, hands eagerly sliding around his shoulders and neck as he carried me through the ship. I scattered kisses absently over his neck and cheek as he walked, occasionally catching another taste of his lips until we finally stood in the shower.

Arm tightening around my shoulders, he gently set my legs down. I held my own weight for barely a second before my knees tried to cave. Instantly, he wrenched me against his chest, hesitating at the lingering giggle as I tried to convince the muscles to work. He let out a quiet scoff, lips resting briefly against my hair before letting me stand on my own as he turned on the water.

Neither of us said a word as the hot water washed over us. Twice, he lost himself against me, arms eagerly holding my bare form flush against him as he tasted my lips, and I readily gave in each time, nearly willing to take him once more despite the lingering ache, but he merely kissed me before turning back to guiding soap over my body. I kissed him as I worked his shampoo into a lather, hands incapable of leaving his body for more than a few seconds before searching for him again.

“Need to swap the sheets.” He mumbled against my lips as the water stopped. I hummed absently, sinking back into his touch thoughtless. That chuckle rumbled through his chest, and I felt the tremble it sent shooting down my spine. “Finish up. Then you can join me.” He added with a final kiss. I briefly tried to follow him but paused. Reluctantly, I spent a few more needed minutes in the privy before allowing myself to retreat back to his warmth.

The room appeared as though nothing had happened, but, if I looked for it, I could still catch the feral scent. Shooting him a shy grin, I slipped beneath the covers, perfectly aware that he’d stared at my exposed body the entire time. Warm. Instantly, I sank back into that perfect bliss as he pulled me to his chest. Heart flooding with affection, I nuzzled gently against him before settling in to sleep.

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[loousir]

[Merman] Close up Shots

Popular Octomer Male x Photographer Male Reader Part Two

Cassian

Warnings: Tentacle boy do be flirting again, some physical affection with said tentacles, nakey Cass for a little, talking about how he shifts from octo to human

•︎☆×【Ｐｒｉｄｅ】×☆•

2 of 7 The Seven Sins Series

Masterlist | Part One | Part 3 |

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About a week past since you had last seen Cassian. The festival was coming up tonight so as a mental preparation, you decided to go for a walk along the beach. You had your bag and camera with you as you walked along the coast line, snapping the occasional picture here and there.

Before you had even realized it, you were at the place where you had first met Cassian. That same gorgeous cove cave now lay silent, hosting only a couple gulls and some sandpipers. You decided to go into the rather large area and simply take in the mid afternoon atmosphere in peace.

The waves crashed against the shore gently as your shoes crunched through the sand. You found yourself watching the water which nearly tripped you. A heavy glass tinking sounds filled your ears for a moment before you looked to the bottle you kicked. It was very clearly a message in a bottle but as you approached it to open it, you realized it was filled with water.

"Well fuck." You sighed and sat down in the sand next to the bottle. The most confusing part about the whole things is that the cork was really on there so you didn't understand how water got into it. Once you managed to get the thing open, you dumped the water out along with the letter. When you picked up the rolled paper it felt dry. That's when it clicked.

"Oh! That makes a lot of sense now." You said as you unrolled it. In absolutely gorgeous script, a still very readable letter started out by addressing you. You blinked a couple times, staring at your name on the paper before continuing.

'(Y/n),

I might be silly for trying such an outdated way of messaging but as I didn't get your number I figured this would suffice. That is to hope you get this before another does.

Let's meet here on the night of the festival around 6. As a confirmation of sorts, I ask that you leave the bottle underneath the wall tree. You'll see it.

-Cassian'

You smiled and rolled your eyes before glancing around for said tree. It was very close to the water and you decided instead of just leaving the bottle, you would wait as well. You carefully made your way over to the tree and sat criss cross on the rock underneath it. Your wait was only a few minutes before you noticed something shifting in the water.

The familiar blonde octomer breached the surface and looked over to the tree. His face held one of shock. "(Y/n)? You're here?" You smiled and nodded. "Yeah. I didn't bring a pen and paper to respond so." Cassian smiled and pulled himself into the shallow parts of the water.

"Its about 3 right now so we have a few hours before the festival." Cassian said with a smirk. You looked at him with an unamused face. "Don't smirk at me like you're gonna get something, we barely know each other." Cassian smirks again and pulls himself up onto the rock you were sitting on and ploped himself down next to you.

One of his tentacles gently coiled itself around your showing ankle before giving it a gentle squeeze. "Then let's get to know each other." Your cheeks flushed at the proximity and he laughed. Good gods... Cassian looked to the bottle and paper you were still holding in your hand. "Keep it." You furrowed your brows and looked over to him. "Huh?" He motions to the note and bottle.

"Keep it. As a memory of our first date."

You did that thing where you smiled but tried to hide it making Cassian laugh. "You invited me!" With an exaggerated sigh you nodded. "Yeah. I guess I did." Cassian smiles and wraps an arm and a tentacle around your waist. He was a bit damp but you didn't mind. "I have a question." He said, pulling you close to his hip. "What's your question?"

"Have you ever dated a non-human before?" You shook your head before tilting it to say kinda. "Well, I've only had two boyfriends. One of them was a half elf but I'm not too sure if that really counts." Cassian shrugs. "So I would be your first non-human AND octomer then." You blush softly and nod before looking up to him confused. "Wait who said we were dating?"

Cassian laughs again, making you blush more. "You definitely enjoy seeing me flustered." He nods confidently. "Yes I do indeed." After that, the two of you kept chatting about various things in your own lives and Cassian paused the conversation every so often to soak up the salty ocean water to prevent himself from drying out.

Apparently, Cassian used to date a sharkmer and at one point a naga. "The only reason me and the naga broke up is cause of when he learned I was an octomer. Apparently tentacles are an innate fear of his..." You told him about how you only moved here a about a month ago which prompted the question, "How do you like it here so far?"

You shrugged at the question. "Its a lot nicer than the last place I was living. Loads more places to get pictures." Cassian seemed to forget you took pictures for a job and you could tell by the look on his face. "Oh, I wish I could make photography my full time job but I just don't get enough gigs. I work part time in the little Cafe downtown."

"Oh! The one run by the Gargoyle? Tea and Stones right? His name slips my mind." You nodded. "His name is Xavier." Cassian nods. "We met once but it was long ago. I love going there when I do work on the land, especially after a long day." You nod and laugh. "Thats the best time to go." You pause for a moment. "I met Xavier when I first moved in. We're neighbors and as we were chatting it just so happened I was looking for a job and he was looking for people to hire."

Cassian smiles a little more, "Lucky timing." You nod and check your phone, it's just turning 5:10. "It's getting close to when we were gonna go. Did I tell you what it was?" Cassiam shakes his head. "No but that's OK. Let me shift and get dressed. Would you mind walking to my house with me?" You tilted your head and watched as he made his way back into the water.

You watched as Cassian went into the water until it was just above his chest that was showing. You could still see him with how clear the water is and you watched as he put his tentacles together to form two leg-like figures before they melded and fused together to form actual legs. You watched his face and he made it look way less painful then it probably was. And sure enough, he was buck naked, all proud and presented. Your cheeks instantly flushed once you noticed and you covered your eyes. Cassian walked up and smirked at how you weren't looking, taking pride in the fact he flustered you so much. "I went into the water to save you from the sounds as it's utterly disgusting." He said, walking up to you.

"Thaaaaanks..." Cassian chuckled and grabbed your hand away from your face, holding it in his own gently. You locked eyes with him when he did, you wanted to look out of sheer curiosity but your subconscious won't let you. "My place is right up the hill." He said, helping you off the rock. You thankfully avoided getting your shoes soaked as the two of you walked along the empty coastline.

It was maybe a 2 minute walk to his house and you recognized it. "Cassian you live there?" You asked, shocked slightly. Cassian laughs and nods. "Yeah, why?" You blinked and looked down the street as he quickly made his way into the house to avoid an indecent exposure charge. He pulled you inside and shut the door behind you.

"Cass I live down the street. I'm in the corner house. My only neighbor is Xavier." Cassian smiled and looks back to you when he let's go of your hand. "Then that means I get to visit whenever I want right?" You looked at him through squinted eyes. "No, at least text me first." Cassian smirks, "I'll need your number for that. But before, let me actually go get my phone. And get dressed." You blushed and nodded, forgetting he was naked for a moment.

You decided to make yourself comfortable on his couch and scroll though your phone, periodically checking the time. You were too engaged on whatever game you had opened on your phone to hear Cassian sneaking up behind you. "Boo~" He purred into your ear as he wrapped his arms around you. You jumped slightly and tensed heavily, dropping your phone in your lap. "Cassian please don't do thaaaat..." You whined out with closed eyes, leaning your head against his shoulder.

Cassian reached around you and snatched your phone from you lap before pulling away. "Cass, give-" He cut you off by handing your phone back. "I was just putting my number in, relax." Cassian said before going over to the door to put some shoes on. You looked at the new contact on your phone. "How cheesy are you?" You asked, looking up to him as he pulled his hair back into a low ponytail.

"What? It's true." You glared at him before he grabbed your hand and lead you out of the house. "We'll be late if we don't get going. I wanna spend as much time with you as possible tonight."

-----

1639 (sorry for cutting it short, just felt like making another part :>)

[cinnamonrusts]

i’ll see you in the village -- 3

parts: 1 2

Chris closes in on your location and he prays to see that you’re alive and well. However, you’re on the opposite side of the secluded village and come face to face with the big honcho herself, plus some of her troublesome “children”. (chris redfield x f!reader)

                                                    ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.*

Chris's heart pounded in his chest as the squad’s van got closer and closer to the blip on the laptop’s map. He hoped that you would be okay - maybe staying in a home or met a friendly local... Your smile was all he could picture when he closed his eyes and took a deep breath in to calm down. However, when he opened them, the van veered off away from the main road where the rinky-dink cottages were scattered about and headed into the woods. “Where are you going?” he asked as he leaned into the cab. Night Howl was behind the wheel, “Following the ping, sir.” Chris swallowed hard, if you were alone in these dark woods -- something could’ve went wrong.

The vehicle bounced around on the uneven ground and Chris held on to the back of the seat to keep himself upright. His eyes never moved from the windshield and his keen senses were on alert for any sign of you. Lobo spoke up just as the ping reached its loudest pitch, “Says we’re here.” Chris opened the door with one quick yank and he jumped out of the van. He pulled out his flashlight and his gun from his belt as he observed his surroundings. The area was as quiet as death and there were no signs that you even there. Chris walked around the area for quite sometime as his team watched him from within the vehicle, they exchanged brief words in regard to if they should help or stop him. But decided to let him do this unless he was met with danger.

His desperation reached an all time high and he started to shout your name into the dark. “[Y/N]!” Chris continued to walk and shout until his boot kicked something that was laying on the road. He kneeled down and shined his flashlight at the item that caught his attention. Chris picked it up and realized that the crumbled pile in his palm was once a cell phone. Technology seemed to stay at a standstill in this area and was mostly untouched by the outside world -- so why was there a cellphone here? The only explanation was that it was your phone. His tired faced drained itself of color and his heartbeat quickened to an unmeasurable rate. He was silent but his mind was loud. If anything were to happen to you, he would tear this entire place apart and tear through anyone just to get to you. His fist closed around the broken phone and crushed it more. As he came to a stand, he breathed out through his nostrils loudly and let the plastic crumble from his fingers.

Lobo stepped out from the van to approach Chris with concern, “Everything alright, Alpha?” Redfield’s eyes were fixated on the trees before him and he was silent - not even a twinge in his face, he was blank. “They took her,” he finally spoke after an awkward amount of silence. His head turned toward Lobo, “I’m gonna get her back.” Lobo nodded, “But Alpha, don’t forget about the main objective... with Winters.” Chris grit his teeth before he barked, “YOU DON’T THINK I KNOW THAT?!” He instantly felt regret and apologized for his outburst. His team was completely faithful to the man and followed him to the ends of the Earth. But, he was scared to lose anyone else... he’s lost too much already and if he lost you... he was unsure if he could handle that. Lobo patted his shoulder a couple times, “Don’t worry, Alpha. We got your back and we’ll find [Y/N].”

                                                    ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.*

The Duke listened to your story intently and when you finished, he erupted in laughter. Your face crinkled in surprise at his reaction, “Did I say something -- funny?” you ask, offended. The Duke continued to chuckle before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “If you’re going to tell me a tale, my lady, at least make it believable.” You scoff and thought briefly about how good you thought your story was but -- it didn’t fool this large man that sat before you. “Now, why don’t we start again, American?” The jig was up and you might as well just tell the truth. “How could you tell?” you ask and he chuckled once more. “Gypsies haven’t been around this area for nearly fifty years! And also, you lack of an accent from the area you claim to be from... it is rather funny, if you ask me!”

Your ego felt somewhat hurt by this stranger but that was besides the point. If he could easily see through your ruse, then maybe so would Miranda... “So...” you start to say before the wagon got slammed into from the side. You tumble around inside the cart as it flipped several times before it landed upside down. The Duke had been separated from you as the back part of the wagon broke free from the front part he was in, and the horse carried him away to safety but left you behind

.

You groan loudly as you roll to your side and try to push yourself up but couldn’t because of an excruciating pain in your leg. It is hard to focus because of the trauma that your head had taken from the crash plus the trip down the hill earlier. Once your vision cleared, you could see a rather large piece of wood protruding from your upper thigh. “Shit!” you curse as your shaky hands hesitated to pull it out. But it was too painful to even touch and your training kicked in, if you took it out, you would more than likely bleed out due to where it was located and you were far from help.

Loud noises shuffled around from outside of the wagon and you began to panic. Your hands shuffled through the broken pieces of wood that were scattered around in an attempt to find your pistol. The curtain at the back of the wagon lifted slowly just as you found your weapon, and you proceeded to shoot a warning shot. The curtain dropped and it was silent for a moment but your aim was still up. Suddenly, a large, black root slinked up under the curtain and yanked you out from your cover. You screamed loudly and desperately tried to aim for something to shoot at but you found yourself being held upside down. Stupidly, you emptied your clip into the air as you hoped it would hit the root. 

✧.*

A woman stepped out from the shadows to slap your pistol out of your hand and you instantly recognized her face once she stepped into the moonlight. Her blonde hair and attractive features... they-they matched Mother Miranda! It was Miranda! Shit. Now you were deep in it... You followed the root that had a tight grip around your ankle up to the hem of her dress. It was apparent that she had abilities similar to that of the mold and BOWs, even better. “There was word of a rat in our nest,” she hissed, her voice feminine and powerful. Miranda’s stare was cold as she walked closer to you; her face closes in on yours and you could feel her warm breath on your sweat stained skin. “And the snakes don’t care much for rats. American agent rats to be exact.”

The root lifted you higher into the air and you were dangled above her head. Miranda looked up to you, “I think I will let the others help me decide what to do with you.” she smiled before the root slammed you down into the ground and your vision faded black.

Miranda lifted you from the ground and held your unconscious body in her arms. Black feathers spread from her back and wrapped around the two of you, then disappeared in a swirl of black.

✧.*

An unknown amount of time passed before you came to. The sound of a few people talking caused you to stir, their loud voices rang in your ear and irritated the horrible headache you had. “I say we strip her down, cover her in honey, and throw her to the rats! A rat for a rat!” a man’s voice boomed with excitement and it was the first sentence you could make out while coming to. “Let me have her! She’ll be turned into the finest of wine!” a woman’s voice that was not Miranda’s yelled over the man’s.

When your eyes opened fully, three faces turned toward you. “Well, well, good morning, sleepy head!” the male grinned and lowered his sunglasses to get a better look at you. A dark haired woman across from him stood from her chair and her insane height towered over you, “She looks healthy and plump enough to craft an excellent bottle.” The man stood from his chair and pushed her a bit, “You always want to turn the women into wine. Boring!” 

The two of them began to bicker back and forth for several minutes until one of Miranda’s roots grabbed hold of your throat and reeled you in. “You two can fight over the child’s father. She - she will be mine to toy with, I’ve made up my mind,” the leader smiled a menacing grin which caused your blood to run cold. Inside you hoped that Chris would punch  through the door and save you from your predicament, but that chance was slim to none. “Begone my children, I have work to do.” They obeyed her wishes and left.

  ✧.*

She wrapped her wings around you once again and kept you restrained while she forced you into her laboratory that was beneath the village’s grounds. “I could kill you but that would be a waste.” she spoke as she strapped you to a table in the middle of the room. You wiggled violently as you tried to free yourself from your imprisonment but cried in pain at the open wound in your leg. “A strong American agent like yourself could be an interesting addition to our family... think of it as an eye for an eye.” she walked away to a shelf and reached for a large glass jar which had a sort of creature inside. “You’ll be the first outsider to receive a Cadou implant. And I am oh so curious to see how you adapt...” She reached into the jar, pulled out the pulsating parasite, and slowly approached you. 

Screams escaped your mouth as you thrashed around in another attempt to break loose but your restraints were so tight that they dug into your flesh. Miranda pushed your head down with force and pressed her palm into your forehead. The “Cadou” writhed around and long tentacles sprouted from within its fleshy mass and grabbed onto either side of your chest . Your last breath was a shriek of terror as it attached itself to your body and burrowed into your torso.

[yeahwhatdidisay]

Antes De Dejarte Ir (Before I Let You Go) Chapter 2 ‘No Way Out’

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Pairings: Bruno x OC Warnings: none Notes: And onto Chapter 2! I hope you all are enjoying the story so far. Also my friend @otsanda has a great story too! Stop by and check it out. (and yes…this part is slightly based on that post. I’ll add a link to it once I can find it again.)

Aurelia stood across the bridge just down the path from the Madrigal’s home.

It didn’t take long for her to get all the information needed from the fruit stand man.  He was ready and willing to answer any of her questions.

Now she stood staring up at the big, beautiful two story home tucked away above a hill that overlooked the rest of the town.

‘Do I really want to resort to old habits?’ she argued with herself.

She’d made the decision to steal from the home in hopes of finding a piece of this ‘magic food’ somewhere inside.

“Better than waiting three days.” she whispered to herself.

She waited a few hours after the last light went out in the home and quietly slipped behind the stables with Valiente in tow.

“Okay Valiente, if there ever was a time for you to stay absolutely silent, now is that time.” She whispered as she took her boots off and got prepared to enter the home.

Valiente shook his head but did not neigh or gruff like he normally would have.

“I know, I said I wouldn’t do this anymore but we need to move on.  So unless you have magic pockets filled with money, how else are we going to get this magic food?”

Her horse did nothing.

“Exactly.  Stay here.  I should be back in a few minutes…as long as nothing goes wrong.”

Aurelia quickly ran out into the night.  Making sure to hug the walls behind the back of the home, hiding within a lush patch of vines that grew up the side of it.

‘Okay…how am I going to get in?  An open window?  No, might end up in a bedroom…maybe this ivy is strong enough to climb up?  I guess I could try…but what if I fall or cut my feet?  How about…’

As she contemplated her next move she heard what sounded like pottery being placed down right beside her on the ceramic tiles.

She peered out from her hiding spot but saw no one.

She took a step back and heard the same sound but this time from behind her.  She spun around, thinking for sure she was going to see someone but again, nothing.

Aurelia started to worry when she heard the sound again, this time in a series of what sounded like steps.

She turned back but just as she did the sound stopped and it was then that she saw a  metal gated entrance that she was sure wasn’t there before.

‘Well…um…’ she thought, that voice in the back of her mind screaming to turn and run.

As usual, she chose to ignore it.

Aurelia walked up to the gate but before she could place a hand on it, it pushed itself open.

“I…I…” she whispered, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves.

At this point the voice was begging to turn around and run, but again she chose to continue on.  She needed that food and nothing would stop her.

Not even a haunted home.

The home was even more beautiful inside.  The courtyard glistened in the moonlight, instantly making Aurelia forget any hesitation she had entering the home.

She admired the tiles and plants all around her.  The flowers and cacti helped give the air the same sweetness she experienced from the town but here it seemed more.

Aurelia found herself losing her focus while admiring just how beautiful the home was. She quietly walked around taking the time to look at everything around her in the pale light.  She almost began to dance as she touched all the beautiful flowers and columns.  Truly admiring the home… she had just broken into.

She began to think about the family she had seen earlier.  She thought for sure a family that lived in a home like this would dress in the finest clothes.

Surely they wouldn’t miss a small piece of bread or a small portion of food.  I mean, yes, it might be magical but they seemed like they wouldn’t miss it too much, right?

These questions began to bleed into memories she’d tried so hard to push to the back of her mind. She stopped and began to wrap her arms around herself in the way she did when things began to bother her.

It took a moment but she was able to snap out of her thoughts and shifted back to the task at hand.

Finding the kitchen.

‘Where else would I find magical food?’ She thought.

Aurelia started to make her way across the courtyard when she heard the sound of a door opening upstairs.  She panicked and ran into the nearest open room which turned out to be the dining room.

The footsteps from upstairs began to make their way down the winding steps behind her which gave her seconds to try and find a place to hide.

Aurelia was able to wedge herself beside a large hutch on the opposite side of the room just as a young woman appeared in the doorway with a candle to light her way.

She waited for what felt like an eternity.

She didn’t move, didn’t make a sound, just froze and listened.

Aurelia was too scared to even breathe, hoping the young woman didn’t enter the room to actually investigate.

“I thought I heard something.” the woman said, finishing off her sentence with a high pitched squeak.

Aurelia continued to watch from the dark until she saw the light of her candle disappear back up the stairs.

She heard the door close and finally exhaled.

‘That was too close, better hurry.’

She snuck out from her hiding spot and eventually found the kitchen.

She searched for anything she could take when again she heard the sound of a door opening and she could see the light coming back down the stairs.

This time she was running down the steps.

Aurelia had literal seconds and ducked on the other side of the counter that stood in the middle of the large room.

“Who’s there?  Camilo?  I can hear you moving around!” the young woman proclaimed, taking a few steps into the kitchen.

Aurelia placed her hands over her mouth in a futile attempt to muffle even the slightest sound.  She watched as the light on the floor got brighter and brighter.

There was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide.

She was going to get caught.

Suddenly she heard the same sound she’d heard before she entered the home coming from the hallway just outside the kitchen.

The woman let out a sigh and laughed.

“Casita, you scared me!  Don’t do that anymore, I thought I heard someone in the house.”  the woman said, turning and going back upstairs.

Aurelia again didn’t move.

She had grown tired of the close calls and decided it was now time to go!

She stayed hidden for a bit longer, popping up out of her hiding spot only when she felt it was safe.

‘Guess I’m staying for three days!  I wonder if I could do some physical labor or cleaning around the home in exchange for a piece of magic food.’ Aurelia thought.

She made one last look around the room but quickly accepted the defeat and slowly peaked out from the kitchen when her heart stopped.

The gate that she had entered into the home was now gone.  Nothing there but a wall with a picture hanging in its place.

A picture of the gate.

Aurelia quickly forgot about the young woman and ran across the courtyard to the picture.

She pawed at the wall, moving the picture to the side and trying to make sense of what could have happened.

‘This isn’t happening!  Where is the gate?! How am I going to get out!?’

She was sure the main doors and windows would be locked and if she tried to undo any latches the young woman was bound to hear her.  Not to mention anyone else who might be in the home.

There was nowhere to go!

The panic began to grow in the pit of her stomach.  She should have listened to that voice!  She should have just stayed out.

Aurelia continued to look around the courtyard when she saw a bit of moonlight shining onto the walls from an open balcony on the other side of the second floor.

‘Oh god, no…’ she thought.

She’d have to go upstairs in order to climb down the balcony!

Aurelia shook her head. She really didn’t want to do that but what choice did she have?  There was no other way out.

She slowly walked up the stairs.  Tentatively trying out each step before putting her full weight down.

‘Please don’t come out…please don’t come out!’ she pleaded, hoping the young woman wouldn’t step out of her room and definitely catch her out in the open.

She was sweating bullets as she made her way up the stairs and when she finally made it to the top she let out as quiet a sigh as she could.

‘I did it…’

She celebrated her first hurdle when she heard the sound she’d heard outside again.

Aurelia had only a second to see two tiles beside her bring themselves up from the floor and immediately followed by the floor moving underneath her.

She couldn’t even bring herself to yell!

The fear inside of her was sprawled on her face as the house itself took her across the second floor.  Past the many doors toward the opening where she was originally headed.

She was sure the house wasn’t just haunted but was fully possessed and was about to toss her out from the second floor as punishment for breaking into it.

Aurelia stared wide eyed, sure that the house was about to throw her to her doom but just as she was about to reach the opening the floor changed its direction.

It took her up another set of stairs, up toward a single door that opened and tossed her inside, shutting it behind her.

The young woman stuck her head out from her room just in time to hear the door slam in the distance.

The woman shook her head and shrugged.  “Midnight snacking again, Tio?” she said, closing her own door as she let out a soft and quiet squeak.

[tooruluv]

Kozume Kenma x F!Reader x Tetsurou Kuroo ( part 2 )

❝ i’m right here, when are you going to realize that i’m your cure, heartbreak girl? ❞

description: kozume kenma didn’t know the exact day in which he realized that he was in love with you. he knew very well that it was sometime after your first “hello”, but the exact moment got whisked away in the many memories that included you. the problem was, though, that you were in love with and in a serious relationship with the boy he claimed as a best friend.

genre: angst, pining, unrequited love, (characters are aged up as the story continues)

word count: 2,527

warnings/notes: next chapter will be more kenma!! think of it like a back and forth between kuroo and kenma's views but also.. not like that. ANYWAY i love feedback so please let me know what you think!! <3

tag list: @elianetsantana​ @vhskenma​ @jennasquishy8​

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“ it was that summer i learned your number like it was my own. i still remember that first september driving you home. ”

┏━━━━━⋇⋆⋆⋇❦⋇⋆⋆⋇━━━━━┓

Tetsurou Kuroo was a very patient person. But when it came to you, it was the opposite. He fell in love with you instantly, like a grain of sand being washed away by a wave. And the second he realized his feelings, he told you.

You were a year below him, beautiful and intelligent. You didn’t attend Nekoma, but he always found you wherever he went. At the convenience store, you would happen to be checking out. At the mall, you would be in the food court. It felt as though he would see you everywhere, as if fate were telling him to find you.

Kuroo took his shot at flirting with you, though it was unsuccessful because the man may be good looking and quite popular but an awful flirt. You thought it was cute.

So, he was ecstatic when you told him you would go on a date with him.

And that little movie date turned into a million dates. Cue the montage of the both of you, giggling together and having the best summer of your lives. Cue the scenes of water gun fights and laughter, of dancing in the moonlight and falling down hills, of picnics and jumping into pools. He really did fall in love with you in the matter of two months.

He told Kozume Kenma about you the minute he realized he adored you. He told his best friend about the summer romance, talking nonstop about the girl he knew he fell for with ease. Kenma didn’t believe him at first, rolling his eyes at Kuroo’s claim of “dating a girl from a different school”.

But Kenma was observant above all else, and Kuroo knew that he didn’t have to prove it to him. He knew that the second Kenma noticed his lockscreen, he would know that he wasn’t lying.

“That’s her?” Kenma asked at lunch, eyes catching the cute picture of you two as Kuroo’s wallpaper.

“Yes it is!” Kuroo locked his phone again, showing it off. It was a selfie he took, both of you smiling and shining against the sun. It was his favorite picture.

But pictures only last a moment.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” Tetsurou Kuroo asked you one night.

You giggled, staring at the most handsome man in the universe, “Of course. I thought you would never ask and I would be pining forever.”

You were crying. That was for certain.

It was September, the crisp air and the reds and oranges brought the world to rest. But you were up, and Kuroo was a phone call away.

“Hello?” Kuroo asked the instant he answered his phone. It wasn’t every day that your summer romance calls you at the asscrack of dawn. In the middle of a thunderstorm, no less.

“Hi.” Your voice was small and choked. Kuroo wasn’t asleep yet, but now his body was fully awake.

“What’s wrong?”

“Can you come pick me up? Please?”

You didn’t need to explain any more. You didn’t have to give him a reason to put on some sweatpants, get into his car, and drive to where you told him you were. It was an hour drive but it felt like five minutes.

When he arrived, you were curled on the porch of a cabin with dried tears on your cheeks and his hoodie on (and soaked to the core). He parked his mom’s car and you instantly stood and rushed to the car as if it was the safest place in the world.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He offered as you closed the door. You hadn’t looked at him.

“Not really. Just family, I guess.” You shrugged. He watched you shiver a little.

“Here.” Kuroo reached to the backseat and handed you an extra hoodie he had laying there. “It was in my practice bag so it might smell like sweat.”

“Thanks.”

It was the most silent that it had been between the two of you, and you had been together for a little while. Not officially, but a summer’s worth. Small sniffles and little sounds of the rain hit the window were the only sounds.

He decided to reach across the seat and place a hand on your thigh. You shivered at the touch and instantly started to cry harder, grabbing his hand with both of yours.

With your two hands clasped around his, and his still grabbing your thigh, you finally told him of that night. Through tears, you told him about how your family wanted to go to this cabin on the lake for a little get away before it got too cold, but it quickly turned into a million different fights. You told him about how awful your family life usually was, and why you are constantly out with him or with your friends from your school. You told him everything. And he listened.

By the time you were done, you were nearly home. Your eyes were still red.

“You can stay with me.” Kuroo told you as he pulled into his house. You looked so small, with a red face, wet hair, and his hoodie swallowing you. You were beautiful.

You blinked at him. “No, it’s okay. I can just go home. No one is there and…”

“I’m not telling you to sleep with me.” He tried to lighten the mood. You let a smile creep onto your lips, he noticed. “I just don’t think it’s best for you to sleep on your own tonight.”

“I do want to sleep with you.” You said. “I mean… sleep beside you. Sleep in the same bed.”

Kuroo flipped his hand up to intertwine your fingers with his. You were still kind of cold to the touch. “Come on. You need sleep more than I do, and I had like nine tournament games earlier.”

Tetsurou Kuroo was a brutally honest person. His intellect matched his wit, and he knew more than he ever let on. He could very well insult you and compliment you within the same two words. But it was this honesty that started the first decline in the relationship.

But you fell in love with him anyway.

The sun hung low in the sky as the two of you laid on the grass. Kuroo’s legs touched yours as you leaned against his side. The air got cooler and the evening grew.

“You should meet my friends.” He told you. It was his first time offering. It was something that you were kind of nervous about, knowing that he had an entire team that looked up to him and knowing that he was incredibly popular. “I think it’ll be fun.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” He turned his head to the side, taking you in with a beautiful gaze. He thought you were brilliant in the sunlight. “I’m sure they think I’m insane, talking about a girl that they’ve never met and think I’m making you up. Oh, and you’ll love Kenma.”

“I finally get to meet the infamous Kozume Kenma?” You chuckled. He did too.

You’ve heard so much of the claimed best friend, and you were intrigued. He sounded like the perfect best friend, for both you and for Kuroo. He sounded to be the perfect piece of earth to ground the cloud that was your boyfriend.

“There’s a party coming up, you have to come.” He started to go off on a tangent and go on and on about his friends, his volleyball team mostly, and you just listened.

You kissed him to shut him up, and he stared blankly at you.

“You’re gorgeous.” you told him.

“And so are you.” he replied.

Tetsurou Kuroo wasn’t an idiot. He was actually incredibly intelligent and observant. However, he didn’t catch the sparks fly off of Kozume Kenma at the very first interaction between you and him. He didn’t see the heart eyes glowing out of Kenma’s head, and he didn’t feel the warmth Kenma grew at the very sight of you.

As your friendship grew with Kenma, Kuroo couldn’t help but be happy. Not only because you were getting along with his best friend, but because he could see how Kenma let down his walls with you. It wasn’t very often that Kenma opened up to anyone. For that to be you meant the world to Kuroo.

One day, after practice and then studying, Kuroo called you. “Hey baby.”

“Hey!” you answered after, like, one ring.

“What’s up, do you want to have a movie night or something?” Kuroo heard noises behind you. “It’s almost Christmas! We can watch a corny Christmas movie and eat terrible snacks.” Another noise from behind you. “Hey, where are you at?”

“I’m at Kenma’s.” You answered. Kuroo didn’t know why he felt his stomach drop, but he deflected it.

“Oh, okay cool!” He started to put on his shoes. “I’m on my way, then.”

“Okay! Hey, Kenma!” Your voice distanced. You were talking to the background noise, aka Kozume Kenma. “Kuroo’s on his way over!”

Not that Kuroo should feel jealous of you hanging out at his friend’s house, but he did kind of feel something in the back of his mind. Because Kenma had become your friend, too. And Kenma’s doors were always open (and he knew how important that was to you).

All of his strange feelings went away the second he entered the house and saw the two of you. The two most important people in his life.

The fights got worse and worse as the relationship continued. They started as small bickerings; “I told you that I didn’t want this!” or “Please call me back, I haven’t heard from you all day”. Simple things that could easily be resolved. They spiraled into a constant fight about things such as “what ifs” (what happens when Kuroo goes to college, what if this happens), and into the same fight about Kuroo being terrible about communication and about you just wanting to ignore the fight instead of discussing it.

By half a year into the relationship, you spent most of your free hours with Kenma.

All fights would end with you calling him. Or just coming over and not speaking. Or even just enjoying dinner with his family. Any reason for why you wouldn’t come home or talk to your boyfriend.

The fight at the time had ended pretty brutal.

You waited and waited at a restaurant, sitting at a booth by yourself. You continued to order waters, typing on your phone to see where Kuroo could possibly be when he promised you that he would meet you for a dinner date. You sat through the stares of the waitresses. You sat through free bread and free water.

After a couple of hours, you gave up. You weren’t even upset, you were angry. It isn’t the first time that he had left you hanging, and you decided that it wouldn’t be the last. You were so pissed off that you texted him one last sentence, “seriously fuck you”.

You stormed into Kenma’s house, rage seething off of you. Kenma only looked up from his game for a moment and moved over so you could sit next to him on the bed.

“I’m guessing the dinner date didn’t go well.” was all he said. You sighed, rolling your eyes and shoving your feet under his blanket. You were still dressed up.

“Don’t even get me started.” You huffed.

Your phone started to ding with Kuroo’s replies (finally, after hours of silence). You just turned off the sound and watched Kenma play.

For a while, you curled next to him and watched him play. He was extremely aware of your warmth, of your heat. He had to stop himself from putting his head on top of yours.

He paused the game. “You should answer him.”

But you didn’t want to. You didn’t want to sit and tell him for the million and first time that he needed to communicate with you. You didn’t want to answer it and hear his apologies. You wanted to sit with Kenma, in silence, and watch him play his stupid (but actually pretty interesting) game. You just wanted to relax after stressing for the past hours.

“Fine.” You clicked the green button the next time it rang.

“Hey babe.” Kuroo sounded solemn. Sincere. Guilty. “Hey. I’m so sorry I haven’t texted you, I stayed after practice for a while and ended up hanging out with some of the Karasuno first years. I totally forgot.”

“I waited there, you know.” Your voice was laced with venom. Kenma had never heard you speak like that, and frankly, he was a little bit scared of you. “I waited. For hours. In the fucking restaurant, Tetsurou.”

Tetsurou. He had never heard you call him that.

“I know, I know. I’m so sorry. You should’ve reminded me!”

“I should have reminded you?” You let out a laugh. Kenma tilted his head. “I should have reminded you? Did you not read my texts or are you just blind? Don’t you turn this on me like you always fucking do.”

It spiraled from there. Halfway through the fight, you turned to Kenma. You muted yourself, vaguely listening to him argue over the speaker.

“I’m sorry. I’ll go outside.”

“It’s okay.” Kenma shrugged. “It isn’t like it’s the first time.”

You bit the inside of your mouth. You squeezed his shoulder before getting back on the phone, heading outside. You mouthed another apology to him as you left.

Things weren’t always that way. The fights and the arguments were just between the love and affection. Because Tetsurou Kuroo really did love you, and you loved him.

It was coming to the end of his third year, and the majority of your time consisted of spending a lot of time with him. You were laying with him at his house. His body was wrapped around yours, your back against his chest.

“Hey, you should join us for the trip this summer.” He asked.

It was still months away. The graduated third years from Nekoma and some from other schools that you’ve seen them go against (Fukurodani Academy, Karasuno, Aobajohsai, some others you couldn’t think of). It was basically “let’s get all of the volleyball boys, and our girlfriends, and get away for the summer after we graduate and get drunk/high every night”.

“Really?” You turned around in his arms. His hand didn’t leave your waist. “You really want me to come along? I thought it was supposed to be just the volleyball boys.”

“No, I know Bokuto is bringing his girlfriend. And so is Tanaka from Karasuno, and I think little Hinata has a girlfriend now too.” Kuroo smiled at you. “You should come. I really want you there.”

You pecked his lips. “Yeah, of course I’ll come.”

That’s how you ended up in the backseat of Kotaro Bokuto’s car in between Kuroo and Kenma on your way to a cabin by a lake.

[flameo-firelord-hotman]

Part 2

Pairing: Zuko x Fem!Reader

Genre: angst

Warnings: none

Words: 2.0k

Summary: to everyone she knew, [y/n] was a peasant, destined to be a servant just like her parents. To Zuko, however, she was his best friend. After losing his agni kai and being exiled, [y/n] was devastated. She thought she would never see him again. Three years later, she almost wished he never came back.

A/N: have a treat for getting through another week of 2021 :)

Part 1 <- Part 2 -> Part 3

Series | Masterlist

A couple weeks had passed since [y/n] saw Zuko. When her parents asked how their reunion went, she said it went well. What she didn’t say was that all her excitement plunged down the drain the moment Mai and Azula showed up.

Her mom quickly found out about Zuko and Mai’s relationship. It wasn’t surprising. All the girls in the city dreamed of dating Zuko. Such a rumor would spread like wildfire. When it was brought up, [y/n] pretended to be happy for them. She didn’t want her parents to know that she was heartbroken. She didn’t need them to know her secret.

As the days went on, [y/n] pushed her feelings away and did her best to move on. Once again, work kept her mind distracted. And soon things went back to normal...until a messenger hawk landed on the window sill.

“[Y/n]!” Her mom called from the kitchen, “you have a message from Zuko!”

[Y/n]’s heart began to race. Despite her sorrow, she still got excited to hear from him. It was a nostalgic, like when she was a child waiting for that invitation to have a playdate. She left her bedroom to retrieve the note from her mother.

Dear [y/n], I’m sorry I couldn’t take you up on your offer to spend the day together. I’ve had a lot going on now that I’m back. Today, my father told my sister and me to take a vacation. We’re going to Ember Island, and Mai and Ty Lee are coming too. You should join us! Please let me know if you can come. Your friend, Zuko

[Y/n] had mixed feelings about Zuko’s invitation. She could count on one hand how many times she went on a vacation. The thought of taking a break and getting away from the city seemed nice. Zuko would be there too. Although he didn’t like her back, they were still best friends. It could be fun. However, his sister and his girlfriend would be there as well. That could ruin the trip.

[Y/n] shook her head. She was overthinking it. Zuko dating Mai wasn't the end of the world, and he wanted her to be there, so she should go. It would make him happy, and she truly valued his happiness. Surely [y/n] was capable of repressing her crush and not letting Azula get to her. She would be fine.

That was probably an overstatement.

The trip was...okay. Zuko was glad that [y/n] accepted the invite. However, his sister wasn’t too thrilled (though that was to be expected). Also, as expected, Mai was practically attached to Zuko. [Y/n] watched them from afar at the beach. She had to admit that she was at least a little jealous...maybe a lot.

“Here, this is for you,” Zuko said to Mai, handing her a seashell. Mai glanced at it and gave Zuko a snooty look.

“Why would I want that?”

“I saw it, and I thought it was pretty. Don’t girls like stuff like this?”

Yes, of course, [y/n] thought. She would’ve been over the moon if Zuko gave her a seashell.

Mai scoffed. “Maybe stupid girls.”

[Y/n] frowned. Was she a stupid girl? She sure felt stupid for coming here.

“Hey, beach bums! We’re playing next!” Azula shouted to Zuko and Mai, pointing to the people playing kuai ball. “Ty Lee, get over here!”

[Y/n] and the others gathered around Azula.

“Uh-uh,” Azula put her hand out to stop [y/n]. “You’re not playing. Teams of four only, and, besides, you’ll hold us back.”

“Hey!” Zuko barked at his sister.

“It’s fine, Zuko," [y/n] said, putting her hands up to diffuse the situation. "I don’t know how to play, so she’s probably right...” She shrugged her shoulders.

“See? I’m right. Let’s go.” Azula said pompously. She turned on her heel and headed toward the kuai ball court. Everyone else followed.

Watching Zuko and the girls play from the sidelines was normal for [y/n]. As a child, Azula usually let everyone but [y/n] play games with her, then Zuko would get mad, and [y/n] would just deal with it. She didn't dare cause trouble with the princess. But she deeply appreciated Zuko for standing up for her.

As the team of four destroyed their opponents (almost literally), [y/n]'s mind wandered. If I was nobility, I bet I would be playing too...but would Zuko have chosen me instead? Or would he be with Mai anyway?

After spending most of the day at the beach, the group went to a house party. Initially, the party hosts, Chan and Ruon-Jian, invited only Mai and Ty Lee. But, Azula, cunning and determined as always, managed to persuade the hosts to include everyone…even [y/n] to her surprise.

[Y/n] had never been to a house party before. The place was loud and packed with strangers. It was overwhelming to say the least. If it weren't for Mai, [y/n] would've stuck to Zuko's side. But, alas, she watched the love birds sit together, his arm around her shoulder. They were probably having a good time just like everyone else in the room. No one was standing awkwardly alone like [y/n].

Although she could’ve tried to mingle and make friends, she was far too anxious. So [y/n] sought refuge at the snack table. Nibbling on food kept her looking busy, while she prayed to the spirits for the night to go by quickly.

And perhaps the spirits heard her cries for help. Out of the corner of her eye, [y/n] noticed Zuko heading in her direction. Such a simple thing instantly brought her joy.

“Hey!” [Y/n] grinned.

“Hey.” Zuko replied sternly. He barely looked at her. Strange.

“So, um, how are you enjoying the party?”

He sighed dramatically, as he picked out some food. “Oh, it’s great,” he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Something was wrong. Before [y/n] could open her mouth, Zuko turned and walked away. Then, someone bumped into him and all the food fell to the floor.

“Hey, watch it! That food was for my cranky girlfriend!” Zuko snapped. [Y/n] kneeled down to clean up the food (it must have been her housemaid instincts). When she stood up, she saw Zuko run over to Ruon-Jian, who was talking to Mai, and push him. The poor boy almost crashed into [y/n].

“Hey! What are you doing?” Asked a very stunned Ruon-Jian.

“Stop talking to my girlfriend!” Zuko demanded, pointing an accusatory finger to the host. His other hand was tightly balled into a fist. [Y/n] could practically see the smoke coming out of his hands.

“Relax, it’s just a party—”

Zuko forcefully shoved Ruon-Jian back into a tall vase, which shattered to pieces. Suddenly the room fell silent. People all around them stopped talking to stare.

Mai began yelling at Zuko, and Zuko yelled back. They fought and bickered until Mai finally said it, “it’s over, Zuko. We’re done.”

[Y/n] gawked at the commotion. It all happened so quickly and it seemed so out of the blue. As kids, there were times when Zuko had lost his temper, but this was different. She had never seen Zuko rage to the point of becoming physical before.

“Who broke my nana’s vase?!” Chan cried, running into the scene. Ruon-Jian simply pointed to Zuko. Chan turned to him and aggressively gestured to the door. “That’s it! You’re out of here!”

“I was just leaving,” Zuko growled. He stormed out the front door and slammed it.

I better talk to him, [y/n] thought. She quietly slipped through the crowd of partygoers and left the house. Zuko was angrily walking along the path away from the place, hands still in fists and shoulders tensely raised.

“Zuko!” She called to him. He ignored her.

“Zuko, wait!” [Y/n] jogged to catch up to him. Still, Zuko kept walking. “What happened?” She panted.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

"But--"

"You heard what I said!" He was still fuming and needed to cool down first.

“Okay, okay…" [Y/n] paused before quietly asking, "can I walk with you?”

Zuko hesitated for a moment before sighing heavily. “Yeah, sure.”

Together they walked down the path to the beach. Neither of them said a word. They just silently strolled along the shore side by side. Waves lapped at their feet, providing a nice, calming ambiance. Several minutes passed, then Zuko turned and started up another path. It led up a hill to a large beach house. The house appeared to be abandoned as the garden outside was severely overgrown.

“What is this? Where are we?” [Y/n] wondered.

“My family’s beach house,” Zuko responded in a much more collected tone.

The two walked up the front steps. Zuko tried to open the door, but it was locked. He stepped back and forcefully kicked it open. [Y/n] reluctantly followed him inside.

“We haven’t been here in a long time,” Zuko explained, “we used to come every summer...when we were actually happy.”

A long time indeed. It was obvious that the house had been vacant for many years. Floorboards creaked with every step, a layer of dust coated every surface, and cobwebs hung every corner. A peculiar, stale smell made [y/n]’s nose crinkle.

Zuko extended his hand out and generated a flame. With the dim light, he walked up the large set of stairs in the foyer. [Y/n] followed.

On second floor was a large painting: a family portrait from a different time. Firelord Ozai and his (former) wife, Lady Ursa sat next to each other in chairs. Beneath them sat two children: Zuko and Azula. They looked to be very young, around the age when [y/n] had met them. Everyone was smiling.

Zuko gazed nostalgically. So much had changed in his life since this portrait was painted. It was no wonder his family no longer came here. If one were to pinpoint when it all went downhill, it would be Ursa’s disappearance.

[Y/n] placed a hand on his shoulder. “You miss her, don’t you?”

“Every day,” Zuko mumbled.

“I'm so sorry, Zuko…” she whispered.

“Yeah…” Zuko paused before speaking again. “I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier. And I'm sorry you saw me get so angry at Mai and those other guys.”

[Y/n] nodded, accepting his apology.

“When I was exiled, all I felt was bitter anger and frustration. I thought restoring my honor and coming home would be the only way I could be happy again. Well, I’m home now and I have my honor back, so I should be happy, right? But I’m not, and I don’t know why. Now, I’m just confused.”

“I’m sorry, Zuko” [y/n] said. “I don’t know what I can do to help you.”

“It's okay. I don’t even know how to help myself.”

[Y/n] thought for moment. She had to say something to make him feel better.

“It's not very helpful, but I can tell you this. Everything will be okay. Maybe not now or tomorrow, or even the day after...but if you give yourself time, you’ll figure it out, and then, everything will be okay.”

Zuko turned to [y/n]. He stared at her for just a moment before hugging her. [Y/n] wrapped her arms around him, returning the embrace.

“Thank you, [y/n]. Even after all these years, you’re still here for me."

“Of course...I care about you.” She did, in more ways than Zuko would know.

Zuko pulled away, but kept his hands on her shoulders. He was so close to [y/n], she could almost feel his warm breath tickle her nose. It made her cheeks flush. [Y/n] watched his amber eyes wander all over her face. Everything felt so still and quiet all of a sudden. Even [y/n]’s mind went blank. His lips parted slightly, and she could’ve sworn she saw Zuko lean in a little...

“There you are. I thought I’d find you here—”

Zuko immediately let go of [y/n] and whipped his head around. Behind him at the top of the stairs stood Azula. She cocked her head and crossed her arms.

“Did I interrupt something?” She asked articulately.

“No.” Zuko answered quickly.

“Alright then…come down to the beach. This place is depressing.”

While the three of them returned to the shore, [y/n]’s mind rambled relentlessly.

What was that? Did he just...? No, no, I must be crazy. It didn’t happen. It was nothing. It was dark, my mind must've been playing tricks on me. I was just imagining things. Yeah...imagining it all. He wouldn’t...kiss me…would he?

Taglist (open!): @aangsupremacy @kaylove12

[soniaxdixon]

The New World; Series Pt 2

Okay so this is my first time writing a fic and obviously will be my first series but I’ve just rewatched TWD for like the 17th time and my obsession with Daryl has reached new levels. I hope that it isn’t too shit and that you guys actually read/like it. Thank you in advance for baring with my average writing but I mean, how else will I learn? Anyway, enjoy!

Sonia x

Set pre to early season 1, back story for when the world ended.

Part 2 of ??

Summary: Y/N Grimes is Rick’s younger hot headed sister. When Rick gets shot and falls into a coma, Y/N’s world ends. Y/N Finds herself at a quarry near Atlanta with her nephew carl, sister in law Lori and her best friend Glenn where she meets her new family including the equally hot headed redneck Daryl Dixon. Over time Y/N and Daryl begin to form a friendship, finally allowing one another to open up to someone and maybe finding someone they can actually love.

Warnings! Slowish burn but the feels are there from the start, swearing, A little angst. 

Words; 1774

This part focuses more on Season 1 Episode 3 ‘Tell it to the frogs’ We have a little reunion and start to explore Daryl and y/n’s relationship a bit more. - Sorry in advance if there are any errors, I didn’t really edit it properly

Like every morning, you were woken up by the sounds of your friends talking outside and the morning light forcing your eyes open. You rose, got dressed and stepped out of your tent your heart jumping when a big figure grabbed your shoulder suddenly, without warning.

“Jesus fucking christ, Daryl. A little heads up that you’re behind me next time? Shit.”

The ends of his lips curled into a small smile that made your stomach flip with butterflies. The power this man had over you already was immense. “M’ goin’ huntin’, shouldn’t be too long. Let Merle know if he gets back.” And with that, he was gone, not even giving you a chance to respond, his crossbow over his shoulder, hastily making his way into the woods. You couldn’t help but stare until his figure finally disappeared among the trees.

You looked over and saw Carl getting his haircut by Lori. He locked eyes with you and mumbled a plea for help. You shook your head and laughed at his suffering face. Catching on to the end of their conversation, you sat down next to Shane who was cleaning his gun.

“Frogs, plural”

“Why do we need ‘Frogs, plural?’” Carl questioned

You zoned out for a second, looking off in the direction Daryl had headed. Your mind suddenly racing. What happens if he comes across a walker? What happens if he comes across lots of walkers. Did he have a gun or just his crossbow? Why did he go alone?

“What do you think, Y/N?” Shane’s voice broke you from your silent panic.

You just stared at him for a second and he read your confusion, he knew you had a habit of zoning out. “Cajun style kermit legs, what do you think?”

“Oh, gross. No thanks.” Your face contorted with the thought of eating frog legs cooked by Shane. “You can keep your frog legs, I’d rather eat dirt.”

Your conversation was halted by the sudden sound of a car alarm.

“What the fuck?” You questioned, your eyes focusing on Shane.

“Talk to me, Dale?” Shane leapt from his seat and made his way over to the RV

You stood next to Shane, your arms crossed protectively across your chest.

The car sped up the hill suddenly screeching to a halt, Glenn climbing out of the drivers seat instantly being hounded by questions and yelling.

“My sister, is she okay?” Amy asked glenn over and over.

“Yes, she’s fine, everybody is. Merle not so much.”

Your stomach dropped quickly at the thought of Merle not being okay. What would you tell Daryl?

You turned and shuffled quickly towards your tent, climbing inside and finding your water bottle. You sat down for a few minutes, taking steady drinks. Poor Daryl you thought to yourself. You knew what it was like to lose a brother. You were drawn from your thoughts by the sound of a truck pulling up. Exiting your tent again you made your way over to Lori and Carl, placing your hands on the boys shoulders.

Everyone was reuniting and for a second, everyone was happy. You felt Carl’s shoulders begin to shake as he started sobbing. Lori knelt down and comforted him as he cried again for his dad.

“How’d y’all get out of there anyway?” Shane asked

“New guy, he got us out”

“Hey helicopter boy, come say hello. Guy’s a cop, just like you.”

You looked up at Morales’s words and felt your knees turn in. Tears filled your eyes as he stood there in front of you.

“Holy shit” was all that came out of your mouth before you saw carl running past you

“Dad!”

You’ve never seen the boy run so fast as Rick pulled him to the ground in a hug. Picking him up and walking to Lori. Your heart swelling with love as he let go of them and his eyes found you.

“Oh my God.” He uttered as he grabbed you and you finally allowed your knees to drop. He held you up as he hugged you, tighter than you have ever hugged before. You had him back. The only thing that could keep you calm. Your big brother was alive.

That night you sat around a fire and listened to Rick talk about his experience. Waking up in the hospital only to find the world had fallen apart. They spoke about Merle, how he was handcuffed to a roof in Atlanta, how T-Dogg had dropped the key, how they would have to tell Daryl.

You couldn’t think about it anymore, you pushed yourself off he ground and leaned down, placing a kiss on Carl’s forehead and hugging your brother one more time for the day.

You walked over to your tent and went to sleep for the night. As usual, the only thing on your mind was Daryl but tonight, it wasn’t the usual thoughts of what it would be like if you were together. Tonight they were thoughts flooded with worry.

————

You scrambled for your clothes in the morning, pulling on some blue jeans and a black tee, pushing your way out of your tent and over to your group. The sudden sound of screaming had you running before you could even register what it was, pulling your knife from its sheath you sprinted towards the sound.

“Carl?” You yelled, Lori’s voice followed yours with the same question as she and rick ran behind you.

Lori grabbed him, “Nothing bit you, nothing scratched you?”

You ran with rick and the others to the source of the screaming. A lone walker feasting on a big deer. A deer with bolts in its side. The men began to beat the walker, forcing it to the ground before Dale cut its head off.

Sudden rustling drew you from your thoughts as you watched the bush intently.

“Son of a bitch, that’s my deer” the southern drawl all too familiar. “Look at it all gnawed on by this, filthy, disease bearin’, motherless, poxy bastard.”

You followed him back into the camp as he yelled out for his brother, “Merle! Get your ugly ass out here, got us some squirrels”

“Daryl, slow up a bit, I need to talk to you” with the words that Shane said, your stomach began to churn.

“Bout what?”

“Bout Merle, there was a problem in Atlanta.”

“He dead?” Daryl asked, you could see the panic etching his face slowly.

“Not sure.” Shane answered

“He either is or he ain’t” obvious venom dripped from his words as he stared at Shane, waiting for his next answer.

Your eyes turned to Rick as he stepped in suddenly, “no easy way to say this so I’ll just say it.”

“Who the hell are you?”

“Rick Grimes”

“Rick Grimes” Daryl mocked “You got something you wanna tell me?”

“Your brother was a danger to us all so I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked to a piece of metal”

Before you knew it, things escalated. Daryl threw the squirrels and pulled out a knife.

Within seconds the knife was on the floor and Shane had daryl in a choke hold. You couldn’t control yourself and you threw yourself at Shane, hitting his back, “Let go of him” You were grabbing at his shirt trying to pull him off when Glenn grabbed your arms as you struggled against him.

“Fucking let him go Shane or I’ll cut your fucking hands off.” At this point Glenn was forcing his hand over your mouth to shut you up and you finally complied when Shane let Daryl out of the choke hold.

You stormed off to your tent so you wouldn’t react again. Thoughts raced through your head. Why the hell did you do that, what on earth possessed you? You and Daryl had hardly spoken and yet you were suddenly threatening one of your closest friends just so he would let him go. Get your head on straight Y/N, Daryl’s gonna think you’re a crazy bitch now.

About 30 minutes later, Rick headed over to your tent to check on you, you had calmed down at this point but you were still pissed at Shane.  “I’m taking, Daryl, Glenn and T-Dogg back into Atlanta to get Merle.”

“Okay, I’ll come.”

“No, I want you to stay here.”

You snapped “What the hell is with everyone thinking they have say in where I go.”

“I want you here in case something happens, You’ve taken care of Lori and Carl since the start and I need to know you will protect them while I’m gone.”

Your eyes softened as you shot him an apologetic look.  “Where’s Daryl?”

“He’s in his tent, packing his bag.”

You squeezed ricks shoulder and found yourself walking to the edge of your camp, to Daryl’s tent.

“Hey, are you okay? I’m sorry about your brother.”

“Why the hell would ya even care? Just leave me be” He was obviously hurt and his tone stung you.

“Geez okay, sorry for checking on you, prick.” You mumbled the last word walking away before his hand grabbed your shoulder, sending chills down your back as he quickly pulled away.

“M’ sorry. Thanks for checking.”

You just looked at him but your face eased out of the scowl you had before hand.

“Why’d ya jump on Shane like that before? I thought that asshole was your friend.”

“Yeah kinda. We grew up together, he Rick and I. He’s just kinda always been a part of my life ya know. When I thought I lost Rick, he became an even bigger part and I think seeing him dismiss your brother like he was nothing riled me up because I know what its like to lose a brother. I was just lucky enough that mine came back somehow.”

Daryl never broke eye contact with you, watching as slight tears stung your eyes when you thought about losing Rick. “You’re gonna find him. He’ll be fine and you’ll bring him back.” He just continued to look at you as his mind raced with thoughts. This was the longest that you two had spoken, you were actually telling him something about yourself and something in his chest felt like it was on fire. You reached out and he flinched slightly, you put your hand carefully on his shoulder. “He’ll be okay Daryl, You’ll be okay.” You gently squeezed as you turned around to head back towards your tent.

You heard him barely whisper “Thanks.”

“Come back in one piece please.” You whispered back, just loud enough that he could hear you and the fire in his chest grew.

[magicalicefairy]

𝔹𝕖𝕪𝕠𝕟𝕕 𝕄𝕪𝕥𝕙𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝔸𝕘𝕖𝕤 -  ᛒᛖᛃᛟᚾᛞ᛫ᛗᛃᚦᛋ᛫ᚨᚾᛞ᛫ᚨᚷᛖᛋ

Chapter 2 “Memories”

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornsson x OC / Tyr x Persephone

Warnings: strong language

Word Count: 2.7

Chapter 1  AO3  Wattpad

"Ros!" I shouted through the golden fields of the Elysium. "Ros, where are you?" I looked around nervously. Where was that dog again? I let my gaze wander through the distance and couldn't see my dog anywhere. Well, he'll be back and I made my way back to my Acropolis. The sun was shining and warming my skin. The wind blew a light breeze through my blond hair. It smelled of fresh flowers and hundreds of different colors glittered in the distance. The Elysium was the purest paradise and it was my paradise, mine all alone. Even when I was at home here and felt comfortable, I longed for my mother. For other people with whom I could talk, laugh and celebrate. Unfortunately, I couldn't get out of my paradise, because it was also my prison, in which I was to live until the end of my days.

I shook my head and got myself out of my thoughts. I entered my Acropolis and heard the familiar bark of my dog Ros. I quickened my pace and saw Ros, who was sitting in front of my throne and was being petted by a man.

“Ros, there you are! I've been looking for you all over the place! ”I approached the man and he looked up at me. He had light gray-blue eyes.

"This is your dog?" He asked, getting to his feet.

I nodded and Ros came to lick my hand. I looked down at him and couldn't be angry with him.

"And you are?" I was about to say when Hermes came into the throne room, accompanied by another man.

"Persephone!" There you are! The emissaries of the Aesir are here to make agreements for the purpose of unifying our peoples. ”He concluded and pointed to the man next to him and the man who had previously petted Ros. Damn it! I had totally forgotten about the meeting and hadn't really prepared myself. Silly me! Of course that had to come across as totally unprofessional. I tried to improvise and nodded in agreement to Hermes.

“Hermes, of course. I was just looking for Ros and overlooking the time. I'm sorry for the delay gentlemen, ”I said. That was half a lie. Ros had actually disappeared and Hermes knew how much I loved the dog.

"That's Thor, Lord of Thunder," said Hermes, pointing to the man standing next to him. He was tall, had a huge beard and long brown hair, and his blue eyes looked at me kindly.

"And Tyr, Lord of Justice," pointing to the man on my left. He also had brown hair that was already graying slightly at the temples.

"Your Majesty," he said and bowed.

I immediately raised my hands. “No please, a simple Persephone is enough in my realm! Formalities are for the boring! ”I said and gave him a smile.

"Great, nice to meet you!" Said Thor and bowed respectfully.

Hermes stepped in. "Then should we start negotiations?"

I shook my head. “Oh my dear Hermes, why don't we show our guests around a little and then have a fresh glass of wine? Can we then make the agreements afterwards? "

Thor nodded enthusiastically. He didn't seem like the guy for a long speech. After all, I wanted to get to know the people I was supposed to negotiate with. It was good for all of us. Hermes seemed to agree, only Tyr looked something, how should I say? Was it annoyed? He probably wanted to get straight to the point.

"As you wish, Your Majesty," he said, looking at me steadfastly.

I walked up to him, looked him straight in the eye and replied in a sugar-sweet voice: "Ah, a boring man". I walked past him and headed for the exit. "Please follow me!"

Thor laughed and gave Tyr a nudge. "Come on you boring one!" And winked at him.

 __________________________________________________________

 Lost in thought, I stared at the ceiling of my tent. I heard the rain pattering on my tent roof outside. Eivor had helped me to find a suitable place for my house around noon and we had found a good place not far from the longhouse by the river. Of course I slept in a tent until my house could be built. I felt a lot safer and more at home than in my hut in the burned down village. Eivor introduced me to some of the villagers, including Gunnar the blacksmith, Petra the huntress, and Sigurd's wife Randvi. She was often in the longhouse at the alliance map and handled all incoming letters and alliance inquiries. She was really nice and had given me a warm welcome. Of course, I assured everyone in the clan that I would take good care of their complaints, be it nausea or when they just dont feel well. I turned on my straw mat and tried to sleep but couldn't. After what felt like an eternity, I decided to unpack a few of my things that we were able to save from my old hut.

I decided on a small box that I had taken from my home in Greece. Inside were mementos of my native country and my mother. A small glass of white sand, a small necklace that belonged to my mother and a figure of the goddess of spring: Persephone wrapped in linen and carved from hold. I carefully unwrapped it and placed it on a small table. I lit candles and prayed a few words to Persephone. I noticed how the rain was lessening and looked outside. It had to be late because I could only hear the crickets chirping and the moon shone brightly. It had become quiet in the village. Suddenly I felt like going for a walk, because I couldn't sleep anyway. I took a small scarf and wrapped it around my shoulders and went on my way to get some fresh air. The ground was muddy from the rain, but I smelled the freshness of the grass and saw a few scattered fireflies buzzing through the air. I went up the hill to the large oak tree and looked into the long branches. The tree was remarkably beautiful. He looked old and wise, as if he had already been through a lot.

"Can't you sleep either?" I heard a voice behind me.

I turned around and saw Sigurd approaching me. He was just too tall to be overlooked. He smiled.

"No, I couldn't sleep," I replied, looking up at the tree again.

"Neither did I" I only heard him. In some way he made me nervous and I tried to avoid his gaze. Every time he looked at me it felt like he was looking into my soul. I thought it was a little strange.

"Quite a big tree," he said as he followed my gaze.

"Right? It must have seen a lot! ”I said, fascinating.

"Have seen a lot? How should a tree have seen something? It's just standing there and judging his size, it has for a while“ he scratched his chin.

“Well, we're not the first people to be here. It's been here for a couple of decades, ”I told him. "You can see that from the thickness of the trunk"

"Ah, she knows not only about healing, but also about trees," he teased me.

"Funny, but that's true!" I couldn't help but smiled. "You can actually see that on the rings in the trunk, but I think that's a topic for another time."

Sigurd laughed. I looked at him and laughed too. I felt really comfortable here and was happy to finally be able to talk to other people without them calling me a witch.

"What topic would you like to talk about?" He asked me.

"I beg your pardon?" I looked at him.

"Well, you mean, that's a topic for another time, so we have to talk about another"

"Oh, yes, that's right", embarrassed, I looked at the floor. I had no idea what to talk about, as I said, he makes me extremely nervous. He exuded such confidence and authority.

“Eivor told me that you are not from England. Although I noticed that myself.

“Oh yes, I'm from Greece. It's really nice there and it's much warmer than here. The beaches are full of white sand and the sea is crystal clear. "

I stared dreamily at the stars. I felt homesick. I left everything behind. My friends, my home and all of that for this. For England, for an adventure, a dream that turned out to be a nightmare. My mother died when I was a child and I never had more family. I grew up with friends of my mother's and developed a passion for plants, flowers and herbs like her. Tears welled up in my eyes at the memories. Sigurd noticed and stepped towards me.

"I'm sorry Ella, that was probably the wrong topic" he wanted to pat my back, but I swallowed my tears and shook my head.

"No, everything is OK. Only memories came up again. Everything is fine, ”I assured him.

"Sure?" Asked Sigurd. He looked worried and looked like he was feeling guilty.

I nodded and pulled the scarf tighter around my shoulders. I started to shiver, after all it was pretty cold. The wind picked up and the leaves of the old oak rustled. Sudden tiredness overwhelmed me and I looked in the direction of my tent.

"Shall I accompany you to your tent?" I heard Sigurd say. It seemed to me that he could read my mind. I nodded barely noticeably and we both walked down the slope towards the river. On the way we were silent and you could only hear our heavy footsteps on the muddy ground. I stopped in front of my tent and turned around.

“Thank you Sigurd. I wish you a good night ”I gave him another smile, looked at him briefly, turned on my heel and went straight to my tent. I only heard a "sleep well" and heard his footsteps faintly receding.

I didn't want to get on anyone's nerves with my problems. Especially not the Jarl. Because it was up to him whether I could stay in Ravensthorpe or not. I decided to go to sleep, because tiredness had finally caught up with me and when I was lying on my bed, i almost fell asleep instantly.

 When I woke up the next morning, it was already busy outside. I heard footsteps and some of the people talking to each other. I got dressed and washed my face.

Today I decided on a purple dress that I pulled over my pants. Over it I put the scarf from yesterday and decorated the whole thing with an ornate belt. I wanted to ask Gunnar if he could forge some tools that i can use to make my potions and medicine. I was missing a couple of spoons, knives, and bowls. When I got to the forge, Gunnar was already at work. Sweat dripped from his forehead and he pounded on a piece of steel.

"Hello Gunnar!" I said and waved to him.

Gunnar looked up and a big grin emerged.

“Nice to see you Ella. I hope you have settled in well! What brings you to old Gunnar? ”He asked and put his hammer aside.

“I have a list of tools here that I need for my work. Can you make it for me? ”I handed him the piece of paper. He read it through briefly and then nodded in agreement. We negotiated a fair price and I paid my order with the remaining coins that I still carried with me.

"Thanks Gunnar and maybe see you later!"

I didn't really know what to do with myself, because there wasn't any work for me yet. I strolled through the village for a while and made a detour to Hytham. He was a really nice young man. He told me that he had a little accident in Norway, when he was helping Eivor kill a man named Kjotve. I asked him to look at the injury, but he declined thankfully and said everything was okay. I respected his decision and said goodbye. Hytham also had a mentor, Basim. A handsome man with shoulder length black hair. There was something mysterious about him, but just like Hytham, he had been really kind to me. But he was out with Sigurd most of the time.

“Ella! There you are. I've been looking for you everywhere! ”Eivor came up the slope of the longhouse towards me as I was about to leave Hytam's hut. He looked a little sweaty.

"Eivor? Is everything okay? ”I looked at him nervously.

“We need you in the longhouse for a moment. At the map table to be precise, “he nodded his head towards the house. "Come over"

I nodded and followed Eivor. Did i do anything wrong? Would they chase me away now because I no longer fit here? Question after question shot through my mind. I was probably worrying too much again and I was indeed, because when I got to the room with the map table, Randvi and Sigurd were already standing around it.

"Ahh Ella, we have a question about Grantebridgescir" Randvi greeted me.

“About Grantebridgescir? Why me? ”I wanted to know and stared at her with a questioning look.

"You lived there, can you tell us something about the Danes who lived there?" Randvi took a step towards me.

I said that there was a Danish woman named Soma who was in charge until she and her clan were evicted out of Grantebridge. But I didn't know where they were currently because I had nothing to do with them.

Randvi nodded to Eivor and Sigurd and she took out a letter.

“Here is a request for help to retake the Scir. In return we would get a alliance with them. ”she explained to me and pointed to the letter. "Do you think we can trust her?"

I shrugged. "Unfortunately I don't know her personally, but I heard she treat her people well and is an excellent fighter"

“Well then I think we can take the risk. Eivor? I think that's your specialty, ”Sigurd said to Eivor.

Eivor agreed and immediately set off for Grantebridgescir. I hurried after Eivor to warn him at the door about a man named Wigmund.

"Be careful Eivor, the man is dangerous." I said worried. "At then end, i have to patch you up." I smiled at him.

"Don't worry Ella, I know how to deal with bad men," he winked at me.

I had to laugh. Yes he knew that. I nodded to him and I said goodbye to him. I saw him walking down the slope to the harbor when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned and saw Sigurd standing in front of me.

"Ella, I wanted to ask again if everything is okay?" He smiled slightly.

I looked at him puzzled.

"I mean because of yesterday, I'm sorry."

Then it came to me.

“Oh Sigurd, you don't have to apologize. It's all right. Really, ”I assured him when I saw that he raised an eyebrow. "It only brought up old memories and was a bit homesick"

"I can understand that," he said understandably

I nodded and looked embarrassed again at the floor.

“I should go see Gunnar. I had ordered a few things and maybe it is already finished ”I looked in the direction of the forge.

"All right.See you Ella “he gave me another smile, turned around and went back to the map room.

I took a deep breath and made my way to Gunnar. What was wrong with me? My brain always switched itself off in Sigurd’s presence. He was really nice and it was really nice of him to ask again. Why did he confused me so much? I shook my head to get rid of these thoughts and resolutely marched to Gunnar's forge.

[artificialqueens]

Happiness Isn't Here, Chapter 2 (Jan-centric) - Joley

Chapter Summary: Jan really wants to be friends with Crystal’s girlfriend, Nicky. Gigi struggles to comprehend her attraction towards Jan. Brita gets further invested in Jan’s love life and confesses why she was so drawn to Jan.

ao3 link

It had been three days since Crystal had texted Jan, and Jan was getting frustrated at the lack of follow-up. She and Brita had visited most, if not all of the spots Crystal frequented, but to no avail. And now Jan was out for a jog, hoping to either clear her mind or have a breakthrough with a new idea. But all she got was a leg cramp and a strong pang of hunger.

There was a convenience store towards the end of the block, so Jan decided to do a quick shop. She wanted to get home right after and take a shower, flushed red and drenched in sweat from her run, she knew she must’ve looked like a hot mess.

Jan started to walk down the snack aisle, but instantly backed out and hid. “Oh, come on,” she whined to herself before carefully peering back into the aisle. Sure enough, Crystal was there and oblivious to Jan’s presence, much to her relief in her given state. “Wait, who’s that?”

A woman walked up to Crystal and wrapped her arms around her from behind. The first thing Jan noticed was that this woman – this unfairly gorgeous woman – was dressed entirely inappropriately for a trip to the convenience store. This woman was dressed for a high-end cocktail party, wearing a little red dress and black stilettos with hair that must’ve had taken at least an hour to style. She didn’t seem to belong in Missouri at all.

“Yeah, that’s Nicky,” a familiar voice pulled Jan from her thoughts.

“Fuck, how long have you been standing there?” Jan jumped slightly, putting her hand to her chest.

Gigi shrugged. “Not as long as you’ve been staring, I imagine,” she mused, then looked Jan over. “What happened to you? You look like hell.”

Jan huffed, crossing her arms with a pout. “I went on a run, thank you very much. I did a whole… half a mile.”

“Oh shit, didn’t realize you were training for a triathlon,” she teased.

“You too?” another woman, presumably one of Gigi’s friends, chimed in out of seemingly nowhere. “What’s your routine? I’m pretty sure I’ve got mine down, but-”

“It was a joke, Kameron,” Gigi cut her off.

Kameron wasn’t alone either, as a shorter brunette joined her side. “Who’s your friend, Gigi?” she asked. “This the girl from the party you was talkin’ about?”

Jan smirked as she looked from Gigi’s friends back to her. “You were talking about me?” she asked, twirling her ponytail around her finger.

“Never,” she retorted dryly. “Jan, let me introduce you to two friends, one brain cell. This is Kameron and Vanessa.”

“Vanjie.”

Gigi rolled her eyes. “She goes by Vanjie.”

Jan offered the two of them a bright smile. “So nice to meet you guys,” she said, though her attention started to shift when she heard the click of high heels on linoleum getting louder and the conversation between Crystal and Nicky entered earshot.

“Who’s the sweaty girl with Gigi?” Nicky asked with perturbed confusion.

“What?” Crystal looked where her girlfriend was pointing. “Jan?”

“You know her?”

Crystal swallowed thickly, her eyes darting back and forth between Nicky and Jan. “No! I mean yes. I mean… kind of?”

“Kind of?” Gigi chimed in. “I thought you guys were friends.”

“We are,” Jan jumped in to assure. “It’s just been a while since we saw each other at summer camp,” she explained, happy to be able to tell the truth. “It’s been a while, we were–”

“Ten!” Crystal abruptly cut in. “That’s why the details are a little hazy, you know? It’s been so long.”

Jan furrowed her brows and looked at Crystal with a mix of hurt and confusion on her face. She tried to meet her eyes, hoping she’d explain, but to no avail – Crystal wasn’t looking at her at all, her eyes were fixed on Nicky.

Nicky did look skeptical, though she didn’t say so. “Well, you did smoke away most of your brain cells, I guess that makes sense,” she decided, watching as her girlfriend’s entire body relaxed in relief. Then her attention shifted to Jan, whom she offered a polite smile. “So nice to meet you,” she said, offering her hand out – not to shake, it was more like she was presenting it on display.

Not that Jan questioned it; she surmised that it fit the way Nicky carried herself. “The pleasure’s all mine,” she chirped, taking her hand and kissing the back of it.

“What is it that you do?” Nicky questioned as she looked her over.

“Jan’s a lawyer!” Crystal jumped in yet again, though this time it appeared to be in Jan’s defense. “You just started at a firm out here, right?”

Jan nodded, ignoring the way her chest was still aching. “Yeah, it’s been going super well so far. What about you, Nicky?”

“I am a professional hairstylist,” she answered stiffly. “I do Beyoncé’s personal trainer’s sister’s hair, it’s very high-profile.”

Both Gigi and Crystal, with slight grimaces, had opened their mouths to say something, but Jan cut right in. “Really? Oooh, how fun! You should totally let me know if you’re ever taking new clients.”

Crystal winced and once again tried to interject, but Nicky answered before she could. “I do think I can fit you in, as a courtesy at least. Since you are a friend of Crystal’s,” she told her, then rifled through her purse until she pulled out a business card and handed it to Jan.

While neither Jan nor Nicky had noticed how Crystal was stressing out and Kameron and Vanessa had long since wandered off, Gigi noticed and cocked her head to the side so Crystal would follow her down the next aisle. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing!” Crystal insisted. “I just… don’t think it’s a good idea for Jan and Nicky to be friends. You know how she gets.”

“I guess,” Gigi shrugged. “But Jan seems pretty non-threatening, it’s not like you guys fucked or anything, right?”

She swallowed thickly. “Right. Because we only knew each other as kids and that would be weird,” she reminded herself, not wanting to forget the lie she’d established.

Her friend was dubious, but allowed it to slide. “So… Jan is definitely available, then?”

Crystal’s eyes lit up, this was perfect. “She is. Are you into her, Geege? Because you should ask her out, she’s great. And you’re great. So it would be, you know, great.”

Gigi shrugged, glancing down. “I dunno,” she told her, though a slight smile tugged at her lips. “Maybe.”

Before Crystal could argue her case further, Nicky rounded the corner. “Crystal, come on, we’re gonna be late,” she whined.

“We better go,” Crystal said to Gigi. “But think about what I said.”

——

Jan looked at her phone – 12:48 pm. She was a bit early for her hair appointment, by no accident. As soon as she stepped inside, she wanted to try to fit in a bit of a tour.

The salon reminded Jan of the one she would visit during the winter break she had spent in Beverly Hills. It was clean and chic and everyone who worked there could’ve moonlighted as a Victoria’s Secret model. Normally, she wasn’t intimidated by that, but she found herself cutting her tour short as anxiety started twisting her stomach into knots. Sure, she was used to the high-end life, but that didn’t make her ‘cool’. Jan didn’t know how to be cool – her ideal Friday night consisted of Chinese food, a bottle of wine, and her library of bootleg musicals.

But Nicky? Nicky oozed cool out of every invisible pore. It sent Jan back to her middle school days when she would see the popular kids and silently yearned to unlock the secrets to social acceptance. And while thirteen-year-old Jan had found the answer when she started high school without braces and with newly-developed D-cups, things were far less simple in adulthood.

“Jan?” The girl at the front desk pulled her back into reality. “You can go ahead and take the middle chair. Nicky will be right with you.”

Jan nodded and thanked her as she moved to take her seat. By the time Nicky made her way over, her racing thoughts had slowed to a walking pace, something she was eternally grateful for.

“Your hair is so thick and smooth,” Nicky observed, a hint of surprise in her tone. “You’re Italian?”

“Half Italian, half Jewish,” she confirmed. “Lots of hair on both sides.”

“I could tell from your arms,” she remarked offhandedly, but by then she was massaging shampoo into Jan’s scalp, rendering her too blissed out to register the comment.

Jan was entranced almost instantly, and she understood why Nicky worked at the only salon in Springfield with a near five-star rating. She had gotten actual massages that were less satisfying, and she was already certain she would be happy with any final result. “So, how long have you and Crystal been together?” she asked after a brief silence, curious as to how her answer would compare to Gigi’s.

“Since I moved here in the tenth grade,” Nicky answered. “Not consistently, but that isn’t the important thing.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re together now,” Jan murmured through gritted teeth, regretting bringing it up in the first place and deciding to change the subject. “This place is so nice, how long have you worked here?”

Nicky was too focused on Jan’s hair to notice the shift in tone. “About a year and a half, I cannot complain, but the goal is to open my own salon. I even think I can poach some of these girls to come with me,” she told her. “But securing a space is impossible.”

“I work in real estate law, you’re preaching to the choir,” she nodded, though her mind was already doing a speedrun of ideas. This was the ‘in’ she needed, how she could win Nicky’s favor and be her friend.

The comment didn’t connect the dots for Nicky, who finished Jan’s hair and spun her around. “And we’re done, what do you think?”

Jan gasped, her eyes bright and wide. It wasn’t an act, she was genuinely impressed with what Nicky had done. She had only trimmed a couple of inches off, but the styling was pristine, she never wanted to wash her hair again because she was afraid she could never get it back to this. “It’s gorgeous, oh my God.” As she got up and paid her, she added “Don’t stop thinking about getting your own salon, in fact, text me the info about the space you’re trying to secure,” with a wink.

Nicky’s intrigue outweighed her trepidation. “I guess you can give it your best shot, then. Landlord’s a real asshole, though.”

——

Brita eagerly led Jan into an empty conference room and set a folder down on the table. “Okay, so, what’s the plan? Before you say anything, I already looked it up and we can’t deport her to France unless we frame her for murder.”

Jan shut the door behind her and rushed to Brita’s side with concern and confusion. “What the hell are you talking about? No one’s being deported or framed for murder or… seriously, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Isn’t that what you were up to at your little hair appointment? Getting close to Nicky to find her weaknesses and exploit them to get her out of the picture? Everyone overshares at hair salons, it’s just how it works,” she explained as she opened the folder up. “I printed out all of the important social media posts dating back from when she started dating Crystal.”

“Brita, that’s eleven years’ worth of posts!”

She scoffed. “And? Do you want your happy ending with Crystal or not? Nicky is an obstacle in your way, she is the enemy.”

Jan rolled her eyes. “I don’t want her to be the enemy. I like her. She’s so cool and pretty and she smells nice and–”

Brita grabbed Jan by the shoulders and shook her. “Listen to yourself! This isn’t the Jan and Nicky love story, it’s the Jan and Crystal love story. The last thing you need to do is go all starry-eyed over, and I cannot stress this enough, Crystal’s girlfriend.”

“Okay, so, I get that you wanna help and I really appreciate it, but I promise I totally have this under control. You keep working on your plans, I’m sure they’re great.”

She sighed and let go of Jan. “I’m sorry, I know I’m intense and everything, but I just really like you and want to help you. I’ve always wanted a daughter, you know? I have a fourteen year old son, and he’s an asshole.”

Jan’s expression softened. “Aw, I didn’t realize… but that’s sweet, and it’d be nice to have a mother figure that isn’t massively disappointed in me right now. Don’t ask, it’s a story for another day.” Ideally that day would never come, but she didn’t expect Brita to let her off the hook on that either. “On that note, um, don’t get mad, but I’m getting brunch with Nicky tomorrow. But it’s a business brunch.”

“A business brunch?” Brita looked at her skeptically.

“I’m helping her get her own salon. The landlord’s a jerk but he’s only like, a four out of ten compared to what I’ve dealt with. And…” she strummed her fingers against the table as she tried to think on her feet. “Think of it this way – if she’s busy at her own salon, she’ll have less time with Crystal.”

Brita beamed and cupped Jan’s face, squishing her cheeks. “There’s that Harvard-Columbia brain at work, I knew you had a plan. You didn’t need to worry me like that, missy.”

Jan pressed her lips into a fine line and nodded. “It won’t happen again.”

——

Jan tried to keep her conversation with Brita in mind when she was out to brunch with Nicky, she really did put in an effort. But then she found out mid-mimosa that they got the location for the salon and Nicky showered her with gracious praise and it all went out the window. Jan’s latent praise kink and overwhelming desire to win Nicky over was more than enough to keep her from heeding Brita’s warning.

So, it didn’t end at business brunch. They wound up back at Jan’s house, talking, laughing, drinking, as if they had been friends this whole time. And Jan was becoming more and more convinced that in the end, she could have the best of both worlds – she could have Crystal as her girlfriend and Nicky as her bestie. There was no downside in that, right?

“Have you heard of The Nebula?” Nicky asked as she set the glass down on the coffee table, “It’s this cool, exclusive club downtown. Crystal and I were planning on going tomorrow night, you should come.”

Jan nearly spilled her drink with how quickly she perked up. She almost couldn’t believe this had worked so well and so fast. “Really? Oh my god, yeah, that’d be so much fun. I am such a club girl.”

“You’re so fun,” Nicky giggled, resting her head on Jan’s shoulder. “I love how fun you are, we’re gonna have the best time ever. You’re totally not the cunty east coast bitch I thought you’d be.”

“Aw, thank you!” Jan hugged Nicky from the side.

Nicky had ended up staying into the late afternoon, waiting until she was sober enough to take care of some things at the salon, but happily reminded Jan several times over that they would be going to The Nebula the next day at nine.

——

“Alright, are you gonna tell me what’s on your mind or not?” Crystal prompted as she watched Gigi absentmindedly clean the same glass for the third time.

Gigi looked up, finally putting the glass away and tossing the towel over her shoulder. “You know damn well I try to keep my head empty at any given moment.”

Even though Crystal might have agreed at times, she wouldn’t take that as an answer. “Come on, you’ve been weird ever since we all ran into each other at the store the other day.”

“I just…” she hesitated, chewing on her lip. “What’s her deal, anyway?”

“Who?”

“Jan.”

Crystal smirked. “See? I knew you liked her. You never act like that around girls like you did at the store. I don’t know what the hold-up is, she’s cool.”

Gigi snorted. “Cool isn’t the word I’d use, babe,” she retorted dryly, then added, “you sure she’s not into you?”

“What? Of course not. I told you already, we were kids, remember?” Despite how comically suspicious her voice was, Gigi didn’t push her any further, so she continued. “Hey, Jan’s coming with us to Nebula tonight. You should come, it could be like a cute double date.”

After a bit of hesitation, Gigi nodded. “Yeah, alright. My shift ended ten minutes ago anyway, I just gotta get home and change.”

The four of them met at Jan’s house, as she lived the closest to downtown, and took an Uber (Jan happily upgraded them to the best option) to the club. Considering they were four attractive women in mini dresses, they were granted entry easily and went right to ordering rounds of drinks.

It only took a few drinks to get Crystal and Nicky on the dance floor, giggling and grinding to the beat. But Nicky stopped after a couple minutes when she realized Jan and Gigi were still lingering awkwardly at the table, and simply had to remedy that. She jogged back to the table and grabbed both of them by the arm. “Come on, Jan, dance with Gigi,” she insisted, pushing them together.

“I didn’t expect you to come,” Jan admitted as she draped her arms around Gigi’s neck. “This doesn’t seem like your scene. Like, you probably think the music is too generic and the drinks are too sweet.”

“Well, both of those things are true.” Gigi rested her hands on Jan’s waist, the two of them doing the bare minimum to count as dancing. “But Crystal dragged me out and I thought it might be fun to watch you get drunk and make an ass out of yourself.”

Jan scoffed. Sure, she was a lightweight and already tipsy, but she thought she could ignore it if she tried hard enough. “Why don’t you get me another drink then, Captain Cynical?”

“Oh, I’m a captain? Here I thought I was just Lieutenant Cynical,” she teased, then let go of her to go to the bar.

While Jan was waiting, Nicky came back over and pulled her to dance with her and Crystal. “You and Gigi look good together,” Nicky remarked.

“You’d look good with anyone,” Jan mused playfully. “Oh my god, if we hooked up, we’d all be even!” She gasped, gesturing between the three of them and giggling at what she thought was a funny observation.

But Nicky and Crystal all but froze in their tracks. “What do you mean by that?”

Jan glanced at Crystal, suddenly remembering the lie she’d helped commit to. “I just, um…” To her relief, Gigi had rejoined them at that moment. “Oh good, you’re back!” She quickly took the drink and started to down it.

“No, no, tell me what you meant by that,” Nicky insisted.

Realizing she had been caught, Jan thought the only option was to tell the truth. “I meant, well, you and Crystal are together, and we, um… used to be…”

“You both said you weren’t,” Gigi cut in. “You both insisted you weren’t. What the fuck?”

“I just didn’t wanna make things weird!” Crystal defended. “But… yeah… Jan and I were actually sixteen when we met and um… did stuff.”

Nicky’s face reddened with anger. “I can’t believe you both lied to me!” She turned to Crystal. “We are leaving and will be talking about this. And you,” she turned to Jan, “just stay away from us.”

Although Jan tried to object and plead her case, Nicky was already storming out of the club with Crystal in tow, leaving her alone with Gigi. “Don’t say it. Don’t fucking say it.”

“For a Harvard-Columbia grad, you’re kind of stupid, aren’t you?”

Jan pouted and nodded.

“Do you want me to take you home?”

Jan nodded again.

Gigi wrapped her arm around Jan’s shoulders and walked her out of the club and got into an Uber with her once it arrived.

The ride was quiet, enough so that by the time they arrived at Jan’s house, she was asleep with her head in Gigi’s lap.

Being rail-thin and fragile looking in comparison, Gigi struggled carrying Jan into the house and placing her on the couch. “God, you’re more trouble than you’re worth,” she muttered to herself before taking the blanket off the back of the couch and draping it over Jan.

Just as Gigi was in the middle of contemplating if she should stay or leave, Jan started to wake up. “Ah, it lives.”

Jan looked around, slowly realizing that she was on her couch, and that Gigi tucked her in. She pushed herself to sit up a bit. “Um… thank you, you know, for helping me in. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to, I know you’re probably pissed at me too.”

“Oh, I am,” Gigi readily assured. “But you look like a sad baby deer, so I can’t just abandon you, I guess,” she decided. “You need help getting to bed, Bambi?”

“Please,” Jan mumbled. The two of them went upstairs and Jan stepped into the bathroom to get changed and wash her face. Then once again, Gigi tucked her into bed.

Once Jan was sound asleep, Gigi went downstairs and crashed on the couch. But she woke up early in the morning and left without a trace. Without the alcohol softening her heart, she found herself mad at the fact that she so easily overlooked what Jan did in favor of taking care of her. And what was worse was that she still liked her.

When Jan woke up, she went downstairs, only to find her house empty. She felt a pang of disappointment, only to perk up at a knock on the door. “Gigi?” No answer, so with another wave of hopefulness she asked “Crystal?” as she opened the door.

“How funny, Gigi and Crystal are exactly who we need to talk about,” Brita huffed as she walked inside. “You are skating on thin ice,” she warned, walking Jan to the couch and sitting down. “What happened last night?”

Jan sighed. “Nicky found out Crystal and I were together and now she hates me and Gigi took me home. That’s it.”

Brita pinched the bridge of her nose. “I was afraid of this,” she muttered and took a deep breath. “It’s fine, we just need a new plan.”

[kisskissbanggang]

Prowl pt. 2

[30+Min. Read/12.1K Words – Mystery Member👀 x Female Reader, Bang Chan x Female Reader,  – Monsters!AU, Mostly Plot, NSFW/Smut – Vampires & Werewolves, Heists, Mysteries, Suspense, Blood, Questionable Coping]

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The cold, salt air tickled your nose as you watched the sun finally complete its journey beneath the horizon. You arose from your seat by the window, taking a sip from your first steaming cup of coffee for the night. However, maybe you didn't need to stay inside and hoard your aunt's coffee maker again. Maybe it was finally time to explore the town.

It'd only been about a week since that night at the library. The cops came roughly fifteen minutes after you punched the silent alarm, surprised and bewildered by the bloody and bruised girl sitting in an exhausted heap on the office floor. The paramedics arrived before you could protest, already feeling antsy about the time persistently crawling towards daybreak. A medic cleaned you up while the police looked around the library, scraping under your nails and pulling errant strands of hair that had clung to your sweater. It was difficult to feel present, to truly grasp if anything had actually happened that night. Really, it all sounded ridiculous and that only helped everything feel more surreal. The woman tending to you looked puzzled as none of the blood she meticulously wiped up revealed anything more than minor scratches underneath. A man in a suit excused her and pulled up a chair. He asked for your name, what you do at the library, did you know see anything recognizable about the perpetrators. You were almost no help, having seen no one’s faces, except…

“Well,” you carefully paused, “one of them helped me make it out alive. They were talking about taking me or maybe even… I don't want to think about what, but one of them helped me.”

The detective sat up, alert with pencil in hand and poised to go.

“Chan,” you said quietly, looking up from your shoes long enough to see the detective's eyes widen for just a second, “he said he saw me at the bar earlier. He can't be much older than me. Has a scar on his nose. He convinced the others to leave me here.”

“Do you think this ‘Chan’ had ulterior motives in keeping you alive?”

“I think he’s just a good guy working with a bad crowd,” you shrugged, eyeing the detective cautiously, “I just wish I could see him again. Ask him some questions of my own. Let him know how thankful I am.”

The detective had nodded knowingly, penciling in a couple notes and snapping his notebook shut. “Well, miss, that about settles my needs,” he said as he got up and smoothed out his suit jacket, “I understand that situations like this can take a toll on a person. I would consider seeing the school's mental health counselor… Maybe take a trip to the coast.”

“Wouldn't you want me to stay in town for questioning?” You asked curiously.

“No need. We have your phone number. Besides, there’s plenty of us around, even out there. We can find you if we need to. Or you can find us just as easily, for that matter.”

And, with that, the detective had nodded his thanks and left you alone in the office, just as Chan had not long before.

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So you went to the coast. Leaving school wasn't difficult; the counselor may as well have packed your bags for you when you explained what happened. Your aunt had lived here for years now, keeping residence in a quaint A-frame that overlooked the beach from where it sat up in the forested hills. You remembered dreamy summers spent here when you were younger, wondering what it was like to live in a sleepy town that had an off-season. You'd never been here when the leaves changed color, and you suspected that was the most exciting thing that happened the rest of the year. It was easy to hide out, telling your aunt you had a hard time sleeping at night after the incident and that you'd rather sleep during the day when you felt safer. Lying felt bad, heavy in your gut, but no one in your family knew about your condition yet. It wasn't time. You weren't sure if it would ever be.

Your aunt kept the keys for her dumpy pickup hanging by the door. She offered that you could use it to get around town while she slept, even if not many things were open late in the off-season. Her only caveat had been that you had to be careful — apparently “hooligans” had been a problem around town. However, you felt restless and you knew for a fact that the diner at the end of the main street was open, having passed it on your bus ride into town your first night here. The diner was hard to miss, sitting next to a storefront with a line of fluorescent tape barring the entrance.

The diner was lively and warm as you walked in despite the scarce patrons. The truck’s heater was shot, so you had bundled up in a coat with your bandana up over your nose. The bandana still smelled thickly of Chan, having tucked it into the pocket of your skirt before the police came that night. Even after washing it repeatedly to rid it of all the blood, it still smelled perfectly like him. It was almost a totem, shielding you and keeping you feeling safe. Even though you still had your doubts, you held onto this idea of him. As long as that smell was surrounding you, he was always near and you could face anything.

You let the bandana drop around your neck and hung your jacket on the back of a chair at the bar. The staff was sparse, only two old men who were friendly enough to make up for their speed. Apparently, these were Bill and Fred.

“Well then,” Bill smiled, “a stranger at this time of year? Who do you belong to?”

You smiled and thumbed over your shoulder to the truck parked outside and both men erupted into boisterous laughter, more than happy to share anecdotes about your aunt from over the years.

“So, young lady,” Fred asked as they finally brought you your cup of coffee, “what do you do when you’re not escaping to the beach?”

“Oh,” you stumbled over your tongue as you sipped at the hot brew, “I'm an assistant with the rare books section of the university’s library.”

“Fancy that,” Bill beamed, “you must have one hell of a head on your shoulders.”

“In fact, you probably would've loved the old bookstore next door, before—” Fred shushed himself instantly as Bill waved frantically for him to stop. However, you perked up.

“Yeah! I wanted to ask about that. What happened there?”

The two men looked warily at each other.

“You don't want to hear about that, young one,” Bill attempted. You shook your head.

“I really do. I can handle it.”

Not taking the bait, Bill folded his arms as Fred leaned in.

“We've been having a lot of vandalism going on in town this season,” he said quietly, “even some petty theft. But this is the first time in ten years someone was killed. And certainly the first time anything like this has happened. These punks—”

“They're not just some punks,” a voice behind you spoke up. A young man, barely younger than yourself, stood up from the booth he had been sitting at. He was handsome, lithe in the area’s requisite flannel shirt and a denim jacket that was probably older than he was.

“You keep saying that,” Bill shook his head, “but I—”

“I know, I know,” the stranger sighed, “nothing ever happens here. But Mr. Shepherd wasn't just robbed, he was murdered.”

“Sure,” Fred shrugged helplessly, “but where did they go? They could be down the coast by now.”

“Or they're still here,” the stranger insisted, stepping forward and pressing his hands down on the bar. “I've been noticing something weird on my way home each night. Smoke out past the trailhead. But I never find any camps or fires.”

“Then tell the police,” Bill said simply.

“You're right,” the stranger replied flatly, “why am I even bothering telling you.” He dug his wallet out from his pocket and flipped a couple of bills onto the counter. “Thank you for the coffee as always. Hers, too.”

You almost felt bad for the old proprietors of the diner, but you understood where this stranger was coming from. You had questions, just like he apparently did. From everything you understood about the business, thieves hardly ever stole books. And — considering the possibility that you were right and the detective had pointed you in the direction of Chan — then these same wolves had stolen more. Why books? Why here? Why kill the bookshop owner and not you? Chan’s voice rang through your mind, “I care about innocent people getting hurt, they don't.” Something had to have happened but you couldn't figure out what.

“Poor kid,” Bill grumbled as he topped off your coffee, “he's been working at Adam Shepherd’s place next door for a few years or so now. Even rents a room in his house. He's been taking it real hard. Hasn't had it in him to open the shop back up.”

“Can't say I blame him,” you commiserated. Fred and Bill nodded in solemn agreeance as you took a hearty gulp of your coffee. You stayed, asking about the trailhead and where it was even though you know you shouldn't, that you were only inviting yourself into a rabbit hole. But if Chan was out there and he could tell you why this was happening and maybe even help you steal back the college’s property, then maybe it was worth it. You had to admit you felt a bit humiliated, that you could let your guard down to a handsome face and electric personality long enough to be robbed blind, but something about Chan had ignited something primal in you — something that felt entirely foreign, but at the same time something you could vaguely understand the shape of.

You had to at least see for yourself. Bill and Fred were sad to see you leave for the night, but eagerly professed their excitement to have you back during your stay. You still left a generous tip on the counter despite the stranger paying for your coffee. In searching the dilapidated pickup, you found a utility knife and a hefty flashlight as far as anything useful went. However, useful was useful and at least there was anything at all. You drove up to the trailhead, making note of landmarks along the way.

As you stepped out, you pulled your handkerchief back over your chilly nose and warily observed a compact motorbike parked next to the trail map. The outlined path twisted up the hill, around the creek, and down to the beach — just as the duo at the diner had described. You gripped your flashlight and set off.

The hiking trail was well-kept, clear and fortunately illuminated by a moon in waxing gibbous hanging heavy in the sky. The ground was firm beneath your feet and gave way to sandier terrain as you neared the creek. Sure enough, there was smoke high in the forest, far off the trail. The best plan of action appeared to be to hike the trail as close as you could before venturing through the woods and brush.

A chill coursed through your shoulders and spine as you heard a branch snap in the distance behind you. You turned, refusing to click on the flashlight in your hands in case you might spook whatever had spooked you first. You burrowed deeper into your coat to shield you from the draping cold of the night and blazed ahead.

Another snap behind you stopped you in your tracks, only for a moment as you realized the sound was closer this time. You looked up ahead. Despite the supplied moonlight, you still had to squint to make out that the trail curved around to follow the creek up ahead. If you cut through the woods you could probably make it to the other side and back onto the path.

The footsteps grew faster as yours did, leaves crunching underfoot as you scrambled into the brush. You yanked your handkerchief down to breathe, to grab lungfuls of air when you smelled it. An overwhelming breeze of veal and sweat flooded your nose. Not to mention that somewhere, a some point, the rugged scent of woodsy beach fires had been here. Was your mind playing tricks on you, or was Chan nearby?

The creek came into view. It was a good bet that the trail came out somewhere on the other side, but it was a bet nonetheless. As the panting steps behind you began catching up, you vaulted over the creek, not wanting to risk falling into the cold water when you were on the run. You silently cheered yourself on as you caught a lucky break, a cursing splash erupting behind you to let you know you lost your pursuer. You sprinted ahead, dashing over rocks and felled branches and dodging low foliage when you caught sight of a figure ahead of you. The only difference was they were going the same direction you were: away from whatever was behind you. Still, one in front, one and who knew how many more behind you. Beyond the figure the trail came back into sight, with a shack and driveway attached nearby. A dumpy outpost to sell bait by the creek and beach, assumedly. You must've been nearing the road again.

You hazarded a look behind you as you ran up to the shack. Turning back to the front, the figure in front of you had disappeared. Sure enough, a modest shop sign hung above the door, and another hung in front reading “Happy fishing! See you next summer!” The season was wrong for buying bait, but it was perfect for hiding out. You ran around the rear of the modest shop and found the back door. You jimmied the flimsy screen door’s lock easily enough but the wooden door beyond proved to be more of a challenge. Thankfully, you guessed just how safe the town thought it was as you spied a coffee can sitting on the crowded porch. You kicked it over, picking up the spare key and letting yourself in.

The first step to securing a hiding spot for now was to lock both doors behind you. Next, you clicked on your flashlight. A chair was parked under a desk in the tiny back room and you grabbed it, dragging it over and jamming it under the doorknob. Now your biggest concern was getting out of here before sunrise, the clock on the wall agreeing with the time on your phone that it was getting dangerously close to sun-up. You just had to make sure you were alone so you could escape to the truck. You checked the store proper, looking between cluttered shelves in the tiny shop to check for anyone hiding when a noise startled you in the dark. You clicked the flashlight back off and considered your options. Going out the way you came seemed too easily cumbersome. The fastest option was to hide. You ducked into the back room once again and crawled under the desk. You sat as still as you could, steadying your breath to be slow and quiet when the front door crashed open with a hushed curse, the bell over the door jamb ringing the intruder’s arrival. Whoever it was breathed hard, heavy with adrenaline and fear. No scent of veal, no more than Chan’s scent hanging around your neck, but something new — something like seared venison, almost. Venison and buttercups. The figure also checked around the shop, looking around and soon enough making it into the back room. You clapped a hand over your mouth, nervous as a pair of shoes confronted you under the desk. What was the best move? You could wait, but your fellow intruder would probably check under the desk if they were smart. Then you would be cornered with nowhere to go. No, the best plan was to fight your way out now and get back to the truck. You mustered all the patience and energy and fearlessness that you could before grabbing at the ankles in front of you. The intruder cried out, falling over as you pulled on his legs. He crashed to the floor, getting his arms up to protect his face as you scrambled out in an attempt to crawl over and away from him. Your arm was snatched, pulling you down and rolling you onto your back as the figure cursed and struggled with you on the floor. One of your wrists was clutched down onto the hardwood floor in a desperate hold. Gripping your flashlight, you smacked him hard once, twice on the back, and your assailant let go of you long enough to try and snatch it out of your hand. You dug a knee into his hip, kicking him off and away from you. You clicked on the flashlight, pointing the beam right at his face.

“Hey! A bit late for a hike, isn’t it?” You breathlessly accused as you were faced with the young man from the diner. He held up a hand to shield himself from the light and you turned it back off. Even just by the light of the moon, his large eyes still shined wildly in the dark.

“A bit late to be chasing and attacking strangers, isn’t it?” He bit back as he massaged the arm he fell onto.

“I wasn't chasing you,” you defended, “I was being chased myself.”

“By who?”

“By wolves.”

You got back up and onto your feet, offering the man your hand to help him up. He looked at you cautiously enough that you could make it out in the meager moonlight streaming in through the streaked windows. Nevertheless, he took your hand, getting up and dusting himself off.

“Were you trying to find your stolen books?” The man asked. You straightened up a bit, on edge.

“I didn’t mention being robbed back at the diner,” you replied carefully.

“No, but unlike a lot of people here, I watch the news. Only thing is, the news didn’t mention anyone present at the university robbery other than the thieves themselves. But you mentioned back there that you work for the library. And if you’re here now, then you must be looking for them, too.”

You sighed heavily as you took a step closer. He took one step back. “No, it was an honest coincidence. My aunt really does live here.”

You weren't sure why you were lying, or even if it really was lying at all for that matter. You took one more step closer. He took another step back. “Quit it,” you soothed, “I hit you really hard. I want to see if you're okay.”

The man eyed you warily as you gently took his hand again and led him to sit on the desk. You gingerly slid one arm out of the sleeve of his jacket before you softly lifted his shirt to check on his back. The bruises that had erupted on his skin were just starting to darken. You lightly touched the marks, feeling for anything broken or loose. The pulse of blood rushing through him made your heart skip a beat. Suddenly, you were painfully aware of how tired and hungry you were. How long had it been since you properly fed? The man winced and groaned as you thoroughly checked him, but you admired how he beared it.

“Hey,” you quietly offered, wanting to help distract him from the pain, “I’m sorry to hear about Mr. Shepherd. You were close?”

He nodded solemnly. “We were close. I was a teenager. My foster parents moved us around a lot growing up, and one day I just realized… I didn’t need to be there. They weren’t doing anything for me that I couldn't do myself. So I waited for them to try and move us again. We took a quick stop on the road here, and I just ran. I ended up at the bookshop. I had no family, no money, no manners, and he treated me like a person. He was my first real friend.”

Your heart sank. It was difficult to imagine not only losing someone so close to you, but to also have the thing you shared get destroyed and ravaged? You squeezed his shoulder sympathetically, jumping as the alarm on your phone buzzed. Sunrise was coming. You shook off your odd rush of sentimentality and focused.

“Well, thanks for not being a murderer — what was your name? I never caught it.”

“Jisung,” he supplied with a small smile.

“Alright Jisung,” you smiled back, “I'm glad to diagnose you as bruised but otherwise fine, but I have to go. I’d offer you a lift but—”

“Oh, no, it’s fine,” he waved you off, “I rode here. Are you sure I can't walk you back to your truck?”

“No, I—” your heart raced, making you trip over your words as you noticed the sun peeking over the horizon. You were so tired all of a sudden.

“Hey,” Jisung perked up, hopping off the desk as your stance wavered, “are you alright?” He followed your glance out the window and looked back at you, eyebrows raised dubiously.

“Yeah,” you smiled weakly, “I guess I just wore myself out tonight.”

You attempted to steady yourself on the edge of the desk as your vision faded. Jisung took one step closer. You took one step back, teetering as you finally fell asleep in the growing daybreak.

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It was alarming to wake up in your own bed back at your aunt's house. This still took getting used to occasionally, waking up as if no time had passed. You pulled open the curtain — your aunt's truck was parked in front of the house as if nothing had happened. How did you get back? The heavy flashlight you’d held onto all night was laying next to you in bed.

A quick shower helped soothe your worried mind, the hot water massaging your sore limbs and helping you think. You bundled up in some fresh clothes and jumped into the truck again, flashlight in hand. Your mind began winding up even more as you drove into town. Jisung’s motorbike wasn't parked anywhere near the diner or the bookshop, so you ducked in to see the old proprietors of the coffee shop.

“Hey,” you smiled, trying to look casual as you walked up to the counter.

“Nothing better than someone who’s consistent,” Bill smirked. “Nice to see you again. Coffee?”

“No, thank you,” you grinned, “do either of you know where Jisung is?”

“Ah,” Fred waggled his eyebrows at you, “so you caught up with him last night?”

“Oh, uh,” you stumbled, “I had some books I wanted to lend him.”

“Sure,” Bill laughed, supposedly knowingly, “well, if you have books to lend him, of course. If he’s not at the shop, then he should be home. It’s tricky getting up there, though; hardly any street signs out that way.”

The men were nice enough to give you directions once they were done ribbing you, and you promptly thanked them and trotted back out to the truck, all the while hoping the growing wind chill masked the blush spread across your face.

You drove back up the main street, up towards the cliffs at the top of the town's skyline. The woods grew more dense, crowding the road as the streetlights became more scarce. The truck wound its way up a woody drive, the trees finally peeling away to a clearing that revealed an immaculate, old Victorian. You found yourself gawking at the spires and weathervanes decorating the roof as you approached the porch. For some implacable reason, you felt a bit dumb ringing the doorbell of this perfect stranger in the middle of nowhere late at night. A ray of light hit the lawn from the upper level of the house as a curtain was pulled open. It took a couple of excruciating minutes for the figure in the window to warily approach the door, and then you were confronted with Jisung sizing you up on the threshold, surprised and looking much cozier than the other night dressed in a pullover and sweats.

“What’re you—”

“How did I get home last night?”

Jisung bit his in-progress retort to a pause and sighed. He stepped aside and presented the entryway to you. “It’s freezing out there. You can come inside and I'll explain.”

You thought about it, fingers fidgeting as you weighed the options. You stepped across the threshold. Jisung led you into the foyer. You spied a sitting room gathering dust just off the entryway. Jisung started up the staircase, pausing halfway to check if you were following. Cautiously, you stepped up the creaky stairs after him, finding yourself walking into another sitting room up here. Stacks of books surrounded a few pillows sitting on the hearth of the fireplace, across from a plush couch and chaise lounge. Jisung held a hand out, motioning for you to take a seat on the couch while he plopped down on the lounge. You found yourself still taking in the room. A four-poster bed sat in the corner of the sizable space. Jisung caught your attention, watching him watching you observing the room.

“So,” you prodded, “downstairs—”

“It’s in progress,” Jisung replied coolly, “there's a lot to clean up... Now that Mr. Shepherd isn’t using it. Besides, my room’s the warmest in the house right now. Didn't you want to know how you got home?”

You nodded. “All I know is I was talking to you, and then I woke up at my aunt’s house.”

Jisung simply shrugged. “It wasn’t a big deal. You fainted and I carried you back to the truck. We weren't far from the road. I just loaded my bike in the back and found the keys in your pocket. So I drove you back and put you in bed. Your aunt actually passed me on her way to work. She didn’t look like she had any idea, so I figured everything was fine.”

You watched him stiffly. Why did this feel hazardous, like you were crossing a rotting bridge? “Well,” you said carefully, “thank you. I appreciate it. Last night wasn't too fun.”

“It's alright,” Jisung smiled softly, “Mr. Shepherd had fainting spells, too.”

“Oh yeah?” You eyed him pointedly.

“Yeah,” he nodded soberly, “During the daytime. He was sensitive to the sun.” Jisung’s hard gaze matched yours, sizing each other up again. Were you both aware of what neither of you were saying?

“Then I'm extra glad it was you that broke into the store.”

“I passed it when we were being chased but I got cut off in the woods again. So I turned back and there you were. And I'm glad it was you and not someone else.” Jisung’s cryptic expression made the hair on the back of your neck raise, the shadows cast by the fireplace giving any nuance in his face a mysterious edge to it. The heat of the room exaggerated the smell of venison, of sun-kissed buttercups. You shook off whatever oddly inviting sensation this was and got up from the couch and swiftly turned to leave.

“Alright then, now that we cleared up what happened last night, I can get going. Thank—”

“When was the last time you fed?”

You paused, frozen despite the warmth of the fire. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know why you’re hiding,” Jisung got up as well. He took one step closer. You took one step further away. “Again, when was the last time you fed? You went down too fast and too hard for it to have been recently.”

“Why do you care?”

“Look, I'll level with you. I've been a blood bag for years now, running errands for Mr. Shepherd during the day and keeping him fed.”

You watched as he lifted his pullover and the shirt underneath. Illuminated by the fire, you could see where under the line of his ribs, right above the definition of his smooth stomach, laid a thick scar.

“You’re a familiar?” You asked quietly, unbelieving. You'd heard about familiars, but only in books. They were hardly ever purported to still be around. Nevertheless, Jisung nodded as he dropped his shirt back down.

“I mean, if you want to get formal about it, sure. But what I really was, was his friend. He took care of me. I would've done anything for him.”

This made sense, now that you thought about it. An offbeat working relationship and friendship like any other, just with this added element to it.

“Alright. So I'm reading you correctly. You’re offering—”

“I’m offering to help you.”

Your fingers twitched at the thought. You’d been getting increasingly hungrier since you came to town, but with that sensation came unease. This condition had brought you nothing but trouble. “Then tell me why you want to help me?”

“Because I want your help in return.”

The answer was so simple but nowhere near satisfying. You scoffed before you could stop yourself. “Oh, so a trade? And why should I help you?”

Jisung pushed a hand back through his hair. “You’ve dealt with these guys before. You’re smart. You can help me figure out what they’re doing and why.”

“And why would I want to do that?”

“Look,” Jisung said quietly. He took one step closer. You stood your ground. “I've lost my best friend. Our business is in shambles. I have a chance to fix that, but I still can’t fix everything. This is all I have, trying to get back what’s rightfully mine and finding out why Mr. Shepherd had to die the way he did. It wasn’t humane. It wasn’t fair.”

The look in Jisung’s eyes nearly made your heart crumble. He truly was broken over this, and you couldn't blame him one bit. He took another step closer. You still held your ground. You could hear the waver in both of your breathing.

“My whole life has been turned on its head,” he continued, “I'm sure you can relate. Helping Mr. Shepherd was part of my routine, my consistency, and that included feeding. And now it’s gone. Now I just live in a house that's too big and the walls are full of ghosts. Let me help you. If not for getting back what we lost, then to help me regain some control over my life.”

Jisung took another step closer. You took two steps back. This felt unfair to ask of you. It felt too big, too serious. You suddenly felt like a giant fool for coming out here. Not just to this house, but to the coast. Figure you did find Chan, what could he do? Would he really just tell you everything you wanted to know? This was dumb and reckless.

“I'm sorry,” you murmured, turning heel and rushing down the stairs, leaving Jisung in your wake as you ran to the truck. You refused to look back as you caught him in your peripheral, watching you from the porch as you swung the truck back around and went flying down the drive.

Back at the house, you sat on the bed by the window, watching the sun just begin to rise as you pensively sipped the last of some tea. You crawled under the covers, deep in thought. Did you want to let sleeping dogs lie?

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Waking up the following night was much more graceful, considering you laid down for a rest before sun-up. Following this method, you've found you could maintain a sort of sleep schedule that felt like your old life. You were still horribly preoccupied. You were almost a ghost, drifting around the house and aimlessly distracting yourself from your growing hunger and the constant stream of thoughts running through your head. Could you take Jisung up on his offer? Would that be any good for you, or him for that matter? Should you just go back to school? Did you even want to find Chan anymore?

One of these questions were answered as you sipped your first cup of coffee in bed, attempting to read and feel productive. You were startled as you heard a sound you hadn't heard since high school: a pebble bouncing off your window. Your fingers nervously peeled back the curtain, uncertain that you were really seeing what you were seeing.

Chan.

You crashed around the room, throwing on some jeans under your comfy flannel shirt and pulled on your coat. You ran downstairs as quietly as you could, tugging on your boots all the way. As you stepped out on the lawn, he looked so natural, just sitting on the rear bumper of the truck. You paused, taking in the sight of each other in the cold silence of the night before he rose to his feet.

“I knew you’d be here,” he smiled breathlessly. He took one step closer; the only signal you needed. You closed the short distance in an instant, your arms flung around his neck in moments. He held you tight, his nose buried in the crook of your neck and breathing you in before you took his face in your hands. A new scar had appeared under his eye, moving in next door to the one still healing on the bridge of his nose. Even though you had imagined this moment over and over, you never expected Chan to take your face in his hands as well and eagerly press a chaste kiss to your lips. The sensation made your heart leap in your chest but you excused it, refusing to get too excited over what was probably just an impulse.

You led him over to the porch swing and sat him down. His grabby hands reached back for you and pulled you down onto his lap. His fingers wandered your thighs and hips as he looked up at you expectantly. He didn’t look as if he could tell you had almost too many questions. In fact, he looked more like this was just a fun date. Well, you figured, if you wanted answers, you’d have to start somewhere. “What do you mean, you knew I'd be here?”

Chan looked down, absently focusing on his hands on your waist. “Me and the others split up around town to lay low. We move camps every two or three nights. We were right out there—” he explained, pointing out towards the dense woods flanking the property to the east, “when I saw you come home with your aunt that first night. But I didn't feel safe. I wasn't sure if you wanted to see me after what happened at the library.”

It was your turn to get lost in your staring, this time at his pulse beating in his neck. You shook yourself out of it. “For a second there, I was thinking the same thing.”

Chan nearly cooed for how gently he poked you in the ribs. “Oh, come on now. After what we did that night, how could I not want to see you?” Your spine went rigid despite the set of hips under yours teasingly bucking up against you. Chan was oblivious, instead taking notice of his bandana poking out of the pocket of your coat. “Wait, is that mine?” He marveled. “What the hell? That’s so cute. You’re so cu—”

“What do you mean, after what we did that night?”

Chan scoffed lightheartedly despite your hard lean away. “Awh, come on, I'm just joking.”

You rose with a start, making him jump. “You’re joking? I’m not,” you said briskly. “I come here on some wild chance that I'll find you and, if not, at least try to get over that night back at the library. I want some closure and you just want to relive a good lay.”

“Come on,��� Chan rolled his eyes, “that’s hardly what I meant. Besides, it wasn’t even the sex I was referring to. It was the feeding.”

“Fine,” you crossed your arms impatiently, “Let’s talk about the feeding. Namely, what the others were doing while it happened.”

Chan shifted uncomfortably on the swing. “I don't know.”

You laughed out loud, getting Chan to jump again. “Oh bullshit you don't know. Why the library? What did you steal?”

“I don't know. It doesn't matter.” His gaze hardened, watching you cautiously as his fists clenched and unclenched.

“If it doesn't matter, then help me steal it back.”

“Excuse me?” Chan stood now, glaring down at you. Maybe he realized how reckless he was being, getting caught up in you like this. You stepped closer to him.

“Don't act offended. You dragged me into this by letting me live,” you laughed meanly, stabbing a finger into his chest, “I feel used and lost and my pride is hurt, and I want to do what's right. Help me steal it back, whatever it is.”

Chan exhaled hard. “I honestly don’t know. The others won’t tell me. And I'm not going to help you steal it back.”

“Why not?” You asked rigidly.

“Because this is critical. I want to take these guys down. You want that, too, don’t you? Then I have to let them get away with it for a bit.”

“Fine,” you sighed, “then why prove to me that you’re here? I'm sure you figured I'd want some answers.”

“I—” Chan looked away, suddenly nervous, “I meant it about the feeding. I've been thinking about it ever since. It’d never happened to me before, but it definitely never sounded like that when people described it to me, and the closer to the full moon we get, the crazier I get about it. I feel like I'm fucking mad about it, mad about you.”

You cursed your gut for igniting at the sight of how much you could see Chan meant it. Your hunger alone almost made you fall for it, let alone everything that attracted you to him that first night. However, you tried to remain focused, instead trying to see the almost pathetic desperation, the cloying affection masking his near-addiction. If he wanted you as anything more than that, you were confident he wouldn't even know for himself unless you gave in to him first. And you didn't want to give in to him.

“Come on,” Chan pleaded, “please.” He took your hand, leading it to cradle his face again. His fingers guided yours back, back around to his hair at the nape of his neck where he led you to grip him roughly. “Help me,” he begged, “you can be in charge. I'll do whatever you want.”

“Then get out of here,” you said, trying your hardest to sound firm.

“Baby, please—” Chan whined.

“No. I'm not your baby. And if you're not helping me then I'm not helping you. Now leave, or I will.”

“Don't leave,” Chan ordered desperately, changing tactics as he grabbed your wrist. You wrenched it away and stepped off the porch.

“Fine,” you snapped, “you get one more chance. Ready?”

Chan looked at you expectantly, eyes practically glistening at the prospect.

“If you won't tell me what those assholes stole from the library, tell me what they stole from the bookstore. Tell me what they stole from Mr. Shepherd.”

And the shine in Chan’s eyes was gone. “So now you're caught up in that, too?”

You laughed again, now too impatient to care how mean you sounded. “Caught up in that? It’s not the latest town gossip or something. There’s a literal crime scene down on main street. He’s dead, Chan, and that doesn’t just affect him. People cared about him, and good people at that. Tell me what you stole.”

Chan’s fists clenched firmly by his sides. “I can’t tell you,” he said quietly.

“Alright then. Come back when you want to help me,” you affirmed. Chan watched helplessly as you climbed into the truck and started it. He vanished in your rearview as you tore off down the drive. You drove furiously, unsure of what to do and what to expect from him now.

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You pulled the truck down the alley behind the bookshop, stomping the brake and squinting in the dark for any sign of Jisung’s bike. The alley was empty and quiet, devoid of the motorbike as you searched around. You tested the doorknob at the rear entrance for the bookshop, momentarily surprised as it softly clicked open. Fair enough, you supposed, makes sense. What’s the worst that could happen? The store could get robbed all over again?

The door creaked as you cautiously let yourself in, gently shutting it behind you and taking in the shop’s backroom. The space was crowded, cozy, with spare stock lining the floor and shelves surrounding a small roll-top desk with accounting ledgers and notebooks on it. A single lamp barely illuminated the space in here. You leaned in to inspect the desk when a small sound in a minor breeze caught your attention. You turned your head to the source: a broken line of caution tape at the door that lead to the shop proper.

Stepping inside, you were immediately taken with the smell of aged books, but not without a faintly menacing hint of blood. The shop was surprisingly stuffed considering its wares and how small the space appeared to be. There could be books spanning centuries in here but it would still take you weeks — maybe even months — to figure that out for yourself. The store was truly intimate, a winding maze of shelves that gave way to a comfortable couch and some easy chairs gathered around a coffee table at the back of the floor. Like any good place to read a book, it felt like you could escape and unwind here. That is, before the place had been trashed.

The destruction was mostly contained at the center of the shop floor, but that still encompassed multiple shelves of books. Ripped pages and bindings joined ravaged books on the floor, some still dotted with errant specks of blood. You carefully stepped around the mess and found yourself at the counter. The rest of the lights were off in the store, save for one lonely floor lamp standing guard over the register, the thick shade casting just enough light over the countertop and wall behind it. A framed photo hanging there quickly caught your attention and you stooped in to inspect: a tiny, jolly old man, his crinkled eyes turned up in a smile as he had an arm slung around Jisung’s shoulders right where you stood. The caption penned in the corner of the photo in pointy script read, “J’s first day as partner.” You were suddenly incredibly curious as to how old this vampire had been. Really, Mr. Shepherd looked old enough to be Jisung’s natural grandfather, which made your chest ache. What had happened for him to turn at such an old age? More photos sat on the shelf beneath the picture frame. Jisung posing with his new motorbike, Jisung by himself pointing at their new sign that proudly proclaimed reinstated daytime hours, Mr. Shepherd smiling next to a new computer and a load of new books he never thought he could get from all over the world. A memo pad sat next to the photos, right under the phone hanging on the wall. You picked it up as you noticed the last date was fairly recent, and held it close to read in the dim store. Scrawled on top, indented with the ghosts of previous notes that had been written before, was Jisung’s chaotically neat print.

Shep,

Forgot to grab the mail today. I'll be right back to do inventory with you.

-J

“You know, that was the first time I ever forgot to grab the mail,” came a sullen laugh behind you. You whirled around, catching Jisung standing down the aisle in the doorway to the backroom. He was back in his worn denim jacket, this time over a well-used hoodie. The sudden panic in your chest dulled. “It’s weird,” he continued pensively, “how tiny things can have these giant consequences. I slept in, so I was running late, so I didn’t go to the post office, so I had to get the mail that night when I remembered... so I wasn't here. I should've been here.”

“Jisung…” You started, but you had no idea how to continue. Jisung took a tentative step over the threshold onto the shop floor.

“It's just bizarre, you know?” He continued, half-heartedly caressing spines of books as he passed. “You live this normal enough life, and something happens because of the tiniest thing and you feel like you'll never be the same again.”

“I get that,” you empathized, kneeling down to a scattered pile of books on the floor and picking them up. He watched, almost shocked that anyone could even begin to clean this mess he'd been avoiding. “You go on the wrong date,” you continued, “and the rest of your life changes and you never get to experience noon again. You swing back by the office to grab something you forgot, and you almost get whisked away by a pack of wolves.”

Jisung finally stopped watching, now squatting down next to you to help make the smallest dent in the carnage of the store. “So even after they robbed you, they almost took you?” He shook his head in muted anger. “Sounds about right.”

The hair on the back of your neck bristled. That sentiment sounded familiar. “They’re not all bad. They’re just as lost as we are. One of them convinced the rest to leave me behind. I was sort of hoping I'd find him out here. He was a good guy.”

“Well he must've moved on. One of them killed Mr. Shepherd. The rest watched. No good guys to be seen.”

You pictured the shadow of the wolf that had finally ordered the rest of the pack to leave you that night at the library. The book in your hand slipped from your fingertips, the thud on the floor making you jump. “I thought you weren't here.”

“I wasn’t. By the time I got here, he was already practically... dead.” He struggled with the words, the quiver in his quiet voice not helping much. “I got here in time to watch him die. So I may as well have not been here at all.”

You stacked the rest of the books that had sat in your arm, alphabetically by author’s last name by your feet on the floor. You hadn’t thought to ask Jisung how the store was organized, instead just doing what made sense at the moment to get things a little less chaotic. Books were easy. People, as a general rule, weren't. You found yourself unsure of how to help make Jisung a little less chaotic himself. What felt right was to gently place your hand on his between picking up books. He paused, just experiencing the sensation for a moment.

“How long have you been like this?” He asked thoughtfully.

“Only a couple of years,” you shrugged.

“Really?” Jisung’s eyes brightened with a surprised smile. “You’re practically a newborn!”

You'd laughed about it, your hand still lingering on his as you both moved to sit and relax on the floor now that there was a little more room.

“Was it hard to adjust? Mr. Shepherd would tell me he didn’t remember what it was like starting out.” Jisung still held onto your hand, now absently playing with your fingers. To be honest, you didn’t mind it.

You thought back. It felt like decades had passed since that first night. “I cried a lot,” you smirked darkly, “I grieved, you know? And you know the worst part?”

“What?”

“That asshole never called me back like he said he would.”

That did it. Jisung relaxed, letting out a hearty laugh that you hadn't heard yet. Now that you heard it, you just wanted to hear it again.

“Don't get me started,” you continued with a grin, “I hadn't even thought about those growing pains again until just now, and for good reason, apparently. The first time I fed was a disaster.”

“Oh god,” Jisung chuckled, “did you have anyone to help you learn the ropes?”

“Not yet,” you admitted, breathless as Jisung’s laughter pulled more from you as well until he paused. The shift in his focus was stark. You were taken aback as Jisung pulled your hand to turn you more towards him where you both sat on the floor. He lifted a hand to your face, softly cupping your cheek. The scent of venison and spring buttercups flooded your senses and you almost felt dizzy taking him in. You observed him curiously as he gently pulled at your cheek to look at your eyes.

“What are you—”

“Look how glazed over your eyes are,” he noted casually, now gingerly turning your chin to get a better look, “You still haven't fed since I last saw you.”

“Well, I— I mean that I— No. Not I haven't,” you admitted sheepishly, painfully embarrassed as you already felt the points of your canines threatening to emerge at the mere mention of feeding.

“Come on,” Jisung nudged you. “Let me help.”

“Jisung—” you began warily.

“Trust me. Please?”

The last time a guy asked you to trust them, you’d fallen down this entire rabbit hole. However, Jisung felt genuine to you. You nodded, nearly smitten with how his eyes lit up before you leaned in closer. Your breath barely ghosted over his jugular when he jumped.

“Wait— what are you doing?”

You leaned away fast, terrified that you may have scared him. “What do you mean, what am I doing?”

“You mean,” Jisung babbled, “you really do… That?” Eyes wide, he vaguely gestured towards his neck.

Now you were just confused. “Alright, Mr. Blood Bag, how did Mr. Shepherd do it?”

“Well, I mean, he didn’t want to make it weird for me. I showed you what he did.”

Recalling the other night, you brazenly reached for the bottom of Jisung’s shirt, startling him into falling back against the bookshelf. You rose back to your knees in hopes of getting a better look. He watched curiously as you inspected and pored over the scar before setting his shirt back down.

“So, you've never had it any other way?” You asked, almost unbelieving. Jisung simply shook his head, still observing you. “I’m trusting you. Do you trust me?” At this he nodded. You inhaled deep through your nose to balance out your breath, catching the pulse in Jisung’s throat hinting that he was trying to do the same. If he'd never had it this way, you figured, then he deserved a nice first time. You leaned forward, between his spread knees where he leaned back on the floor so that you were right back where you started, your breath hot on his throat. Jisung shivered as the tips of your canines grazed over his skin and you placed a soft hand on the other side of his neck to hold him steady. “Inhale,” you quietly instructed in his ear, wanting to do whatever you could to make this good for both of you. Jisung nodded intrepidly and you waited to hear, to feel him take in a good lungful of air before you sank your extended teeth into his skin.

His first gasp nearly set you on fire, finding it endearing as he clutched your arm for support in his shock. You were energized by such a positive sign, and even more so as he failed to bite back a low groan. The first layer of blood on your tongue hit you harder than you predicted, an uncontrollable moan from your craving escaping you and making Jisung freeze against you. In just that instant, both yours and his hands reached, grabbing onto each other as you gained more firm purchase over the skin of his neck. You weren’t seeing stars like you had with Chan, but something about the near innocence of your embrace invigorated you.

Growing dizzy in the high that blood this fresh always gave you, you felt emboldened as you crawled into his lap on the floor of the bookshop. You pulled away from Jisung’s neck, practically coming up for air. He looked up at you with something akin to impressed adoration, his own glazed eyes mirroring your own now. Swept up in all this spontaneity, you found yourself leaning in, following some force that was pulling you together — that is, until the distinct sound of a sniffle and a shaky breath perked your ears up.

“Jisung?” You asked quietly, trying to get him to look at you. “Are you al-”

“What, am I alright?” Jisung chuckled flippantly, “Yeah, I'm fine.”

You slid off of his lap, watching as he turned away. He roughly pulled the sleeve of his jacket across his face.

“Jisung—” you lightly chided, surprised as he got to his feet. He paced the floor, pushing a hand through his hair and trying to calm himself down.

“I'm fine,” he insisted with a grin. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes and sigh, getting to your feet as well and following him as his pacing carried him down the aisle. You gently grabbed his hand and turned him around, pulling your handkerchief out of your coat pocket and blotting up some of the blood still wet on his neck. He stiffly pulled away like a kid from their mother when they try to pat down a cowlick.

“You’re not fine; you’re upset.” You lamented, trying not to get distracted by how appealing the congealing blood on his neck looked.

“I'm not upset, I'm angry,” he grumbled.

“Maybe you should be upset. You can't just be angry.”

Jisung batted your hand away with an exhausted laugh. “It’s not that easy.”

“What, confronting your feelings? It’s not supposed to be all the time. That’s why it’s called a confrontation.”

He side-eyed you, apparently relieved that you could keep up with him. His shoulders softened as he let out a deep sigh. Swiftly, he pulled away from you once more. He paced a few more steps to the end of the aisle, head hanging, before he stopped. You could see as he defeatedly shook his head from behind.

“I guess I haven't let myself admit that I'm really fucking lonely now,” he let out a tired chuckle, “I never realized how spending so much time around someone really affects you until they're gone. So with you around, and doing this… I guess it’s a little overwhelming.”

“Jisung,” you light-heartedly admonished as you gently took his hand again and pulled him around to look at you, “if I had realized sooner then we could've stopped. I got greedy. You gave me more than enough to get me through. I just, sort of — I dunno, I like being around you; I feel like you understand where I'm coming from, and I got carried away, and —” You let out a muffled squeak, your rambling cut short by Jisung’s hands cupping your face and his lips finding yours in the dark. You reactively pressed your hands to his chest and pushed him back. Jisung stared, embarrassed and just a bit confused.

“Oh,” he blinked, “I'm sorry. I was just — like a minute ago when you were feeding, I thought — I mean I was going to —”

You couldn’t help but grin, content enough with Jisung's apparently innocent intentions to match your own. You didn't need a soulmate or a boyfriend, you just needed someone to be close to for a bit, something you felt like Jisung understood despite his shock as you grabbed onto the collar of his jacket and yanked him close, kissing him with vigor as you fell back against the bookshelf. Jisung’s arms wrapped around your waist, hugging you close to him as he stepped back.

“Come on,” he urged against your lips, “you don’t have to cut yourself off; I can do more.”

He stepped back again, tripping back onto the couch in the reading nook at the back of the store and pulling you down on top of him as you kissed.

“Jisung,” you countered nervously, “I really think I'm fine, it’s enough for now--”

You were interrupted once again as Jisung scratched at the drying wound on his neck, getting it exposed again and dipping a thumb into it.

“Come on,” he pleaded again, “don’t lie to me. You need it. I need it.”

Before you could protest, his fingers delicately but firmly cupped your face, his thumb tracing the line of your bottom lip and smudging a drop of blood along it. The hair on the back of your neck stood on end. The sensation raged through you and you could practically feel your eyes dilate as your lips closed around his thumb, sucking it dry before releasing. Reluctantly, you pushed yourself away and sat up on his lap, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. His hands reached after you, holding onto your thighs as if he were afraid you were going to run away.

“Sorry,” he breathed, “I need it so badly. I need you so badly.”

“I know,” you empathized, “I just don’t want to get carried away.”

“You won’t.”

“And if I do?” You insisted.

“Then I'll stop you. It’ll be fine.”

You chewed on your lip, weighing the consequences. Your eyes wandered over Jisung, his chest rising and falling with each shaking, desperate breath. He looked up at you, eyes pleading and adoring and so, so needy. The unmistakable feeling of a developing erection pressed up against you where your hips met, and it only served to cloud your judgement further. Your eyes darted from the wound on his neck, leaking down onto his hoodie, to his lips slightly parted with each bated breath, to his eyes anxiously waiting for you to decide. And you decided.

You were still hungry.

Your fingers delicately brushed his fringe out of his eyes, caressing his face before stroking your fingers back into his hair and roughly gripping him. He grunted as you guided his head to the side, opening up the access you had to the expanse of his neck. His breathing almost stopped entirely as your teeth grazed his skin, his hands clutching tight onto your waist. When you finally pierced through him for only the second time of the night, you both moaned, grabbing onto each other and practically shivering in pleasure. Blood washed warm over your tongue, nearly making you whimper from finally satisfying your hunger. And, thankfully, you didn't feel yourself overdoing it. For as much as you eagerly scratched and languidly lapped at Jisung’s neck, you thankfully found the bloodlust in your gut die down. And, for as much as you worked him over, he let you do it. He held fast onto you, groaning and hissing through the intermittent pain. His hips rolled up against yours as you fed, a response you figured he was just as surprised with himself. Something sparked in the back of your mind, making up for the lack of stars you’d seen when you'd fed on Chan, a ghost, a shadow loosely resembling affection for the man moaning under you. It was odd to feel connected like this, to be so comfortable with someone you hardly knew, but you wanted to enjoy it while it lasted.

Jisung’s hands stayed firmly around your waist until you guided them to the buttons of your flannel shirt. “Wait,” he chuckled nervously, “are you sure--”

“We’re not done yet. This is still open,” you explained as you playfully poked him in the open wound on his neck, making him jump and curse, “and besides. I want it. I want you.”

He couldn’t resist, just as you couldn't before, and he slid your coat off of you before he resumed what you had led him to do with your shirt. Jisung carefully unbuttoned your shirt and slipped it off of you, immediately taking notice of your skin raising in goosebumps as he admired you. A basket sat on the floor by the couch and he quickly excused himself for just a moment to lean over and rummage through it and grab a blanket to drape over your shoulders before he unzipped his hoodie. He shimmied out of his jacket underneath you and worked off his shirt, these joining the growing pile of clothes on the floor as you both kicked off your boots. You huddled under the blanket with him, the warmth of his breath on your neck mirroring yours as you nuzzled against him. Your fingers danced along his collarbones and down his smooth chest.

“How many other girls get to enjoy this blanket?” You teased, giggling against his neck with him as you lazily licked up the rest of the blood you'd let out for yourself.

“Excuse you,” he laughed, “I happen to like reading on this couch when there's no customers, and I like to be comfy while doing so, thank you very much.”

“And how often are there no customers?”

“We sell used and rare books in a tourist town on the beach. When are there ever customers? Why do you think I can afford to take my time cleaning up around here?” You shared a laugh together before you pulled his lips to yours again, your tongues mingling in a way that made him moan deep. When you finally pulled back, the blood that you'd smeared against his mouth contrasted against his skin in the prettiest way.

“Well then,” you offered, the lilt in your voice hinting at things to come, “maybe once we’re done here we can work on cleaning up some more.”

“I’d really like that,” he replied breathlessly, gasping as he felt your hand search under the blanket for his hard-on. “You seem like you know what you’re doing,” he smirked.

“It’s useful to know what you’re doing when you're trying to get what you want.” You sat back, now further down on his thighs as you worked his belt and jeans open. Your hands traveled up the lines of his taut stomach, making you both wince as your fingers brushed over the thick scar on his ribs. “Are you alright?” You asked softly.

He nodded heavily, almost like he was refusing to get emotional again in a moment like this. “Yeah. I'm fine. I'm just really glad you're here. Helps me stay focused.” Just as you were about to question what exactly he was focused on, Jisung’s hands suddenly found purchase on the waistband of your jeans, pushing them down and apparently trying to remember to breathe as he came across your panties underneath. You backed up off of his lap, shrugging off the blanket for a moment as you shuffled off your jeans onto the floor as well. A muffled exclamation sprang from him as you laid back on the couch, pulling him on top of you with another kiss. Once he pulled the warm blanket back over the both of you, his hands joined yours in pulling your dampening panties off and dropping them to the floor. Just as he went to push his briefs and jeans further down, you stopped him.

“Both of us don’t have to freeze to do this,” you smirked, “now keep me warm.”

Jisung grinned as he nodded and kissed you again, one of his hands traveling between your bodies to see just how wet you were getting for him. Pleased, he tested his hard length in his grip before you felt it nudge up against your entrance. You gasped as he smoothly slid inside you, Jisung’s warm hands all over you as he slowly, almost lovingly thrust into you. Your hands wrapped around him, your nails occasionally digging into his back when he thrust a little more roughly.

“Jisung,” you pleaded, “fuck me.”

“Anything,” he reassured you, “anything you want.”

“Awh,” you cooed, “anything?”

“Anything,” he reaffirmed, “you’re a fucking princess for how much I'd give you.”

Jisung was nearly too lost in his rough thrusts against you, but he still noticed the small grimace you made at the pet name. His hips slowed. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you grinned after shaking yourself out of it, “I’m just glad you’re here. You keep me focused, too.”

Jisung nodded, his smile matching yours as he tipped your chin up to kiss him again. He pulled you up against him, sitting back on the couch and setting you on his lap. You held him tight, one hand on his shoulder and the other in his hair as you rocked your hips against his. Your pert nipples caught his attention from where you sat on his lap, his arms wrapped tight around your waist as he closed his lips on your breast. A shiver ran up your spine at the apparently intimate gesture. You almost felt light-headed, the first hints of an orgasm coming to mind when Jisung leaned you back enough just to press a thumb to your clit as you rode him.

“Mmph, Jisung,” you whined for him, “you think you can cum with me?”

“No, no, wait,” he breathed, “bite me again--”

“Again?” You asked, grabbing onto his shoulders to help even out your quickened pace on his warm cock.

“Yeah,” he nodded desperately, “it felt amazing. It hurts in the best way.”

You sighed, considering if you even really wanted to say no before nodding and kissing his forehead. You leaned back, the cool fabric of the old couch meeting your back once more as you pulled him back down on top of you. Jisung kissed your hungrily, his hips bucking hard against yours as he continued massaging your clit. This time, as he moved his head aside, his lips found your neck and you simpered, loving the way he so gently pressed kisses to your pulse and grazed his teeth over your skin.

One of your ankles hooked back over his hip, your other leg spread wide so he could keep rubbing you closer to orgasm as you caressed his head to the side. Your hunger satiated, your teeth wouldn’t extend much by just willing them to, but you were still able to sink enough of the tips into his fresh wound. The sensation alone moved you to the precipice of your climax, the way Jisung tensed against you enough to push you over the edge. You pulled him to you for another brutal kiss, the copper taste of blood smearing against both your tongues as you whined into your orgasm. His hips faltered, his hand clutching tight onto you as he came along with you. Jisung’s cum flowed hot into you while he held you close, gasping for breath and whispering thanks and gratitude and sweet nothings in your ear until his hips finally stilled.

The both of you stayed like that, holding each other close until Jisung slowly eased out of you. He kissed your lips, your cheeks, your nose, your forehead -- everywhere as you smiled and took it.

“Did we really take that long?” He asked incredulously, peering out at the tall windows peeking out over the tops of the shelves at the front of the store. Over the thick valances, the first hints of orange were starting to streak in through the window.

“Oh, shit,” you grumbled, “do I have time to get home?”

Jisung rummaged around in the pile of clothes on the floor to find his phone and checked to make sure. He shook his head as he found your phone as well and handed it to you. Sure enough, you didn’t hear your phone buzzing on silent as the alarm went off.

“What do I do?” You lamented.

Jisung leapt to his feet as he began pulling his clothes back on. “You can crash here,” he gladly offered. “I'll do the same thing I did the other night and sneak the truck back to your aunt’s. If the truck is there she’ll probably just assume you’re in your room anyhow.” He shrugged on his hoodie and jacket before you stopped him.

“Wait,” you laughed, “you’re a damn mess.” You spied a scarf on the coat rack by the counter and grabbed it before wrapping it around his neck to cover the bites and blood. “So,” you prodded, “I crash here and you get the truck back… Then what?”

“Then I'll take care of my usual errands and get a head start on cleaning the shop before nightfall. Besides, maybe once I get some inventory done in here I can finally figure out what all was stolen.”

“Yeah,” you nodded with a smile, “that actually sounds great. I'd really like that.”

Jisung grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around your shoulders before rummaging through your coat on the floor for the keys. “I’d better hurry; I want to get back to the diner and get some coffee before the day waitress comes.” And, with that, he kissed your cheek before rushing out the backdoor.

You bundled up in the blanket, contemplating how much you wanted to get dressed again before falling asleep as the sun slowly crept through the window. Outside, the truck rattled to life and slowly sputtered down the alley, not getting enough time to warm up. The blanket smelled thick with Jisung’s scent, making that oddly affectionate tug in your gut feel stronger. The cozy space of the bookshop felt that much cozier at dawn, welcoming the warm surroundings as you sat back on the couch when you heard a clatter in the back room. You sprang to your feet, the tiredness already starting to weigh you down as you stepped closer to see what must have fallen over. That is, if whatever fell over happened to smell like veal, like mahogany and fires on the beach.

“Well, it sure smells like you've been here--” Came a voice from the back room. You stiffened, hand tight on your phone.

Chan stepped into the shop. You took two steps back.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You asked, eyes narrowed.

“The better question,” Chan laughed, “is who leaves the back door unlocked? I was grabbing a bite to eat and remembered you mentioned the old man and the bookstore, so I thought I'd look for you here. Sure enough, the back door is open and all I smell is you.” He circled closer, eyeing you up and down in your blanket. “And you’ve been busy, I see,” he pouted, “is that why you wouldn’t give it to me?”

“That’s none of your business,” you spat, lacking the proper strength at the moment to struggle as he grabbed onto you and pulled you close.

“Princess,” he cooed, “baby, please, just feed on me and I'll be good.”

“I'm all full, but thanks anyways,” you glared at him. He leaned back, stunned and disgusted.

“Who the fuck--”

“Hey!” Came Jisung’s voice from the front door, the bell at the front signaling an arrival. You struggled against Chan now, who just stood his ground and clamped a hand over your mouth. Sleep threatened to take hold any moment now. “You know, locking the back door might be a good idea now that there’s someon--”

Jisung froze at the end of the aisle. The two men stared each other down before Chan finally let you go. You stumbled back a step.

“The shopkeeper’s lackey?!” He laughed boisterously, “You won't give it to me all of a sudden, but you’ll give it to him?”

Chan let out another mean laugh before Jisung suddenly drove forward the few steps it took to tackle into Chan’s chest. Both men fell to the floor as you sank down onto the couch, exhausted and fading fast. Jisung had the upper hand in making the first move, pinning Chan under him and landing blow after blow on him. Chan cursed wildly and attempted to fight him off.

“You goddamn son of a bitch,” Jisung roared, “you fucking murderer!”

You sprang to your feet, desperate to help, but both men only turned to notice in time for you to collapse.

You slept.

[To be continued.]

<prev | next>

[fallenqueen2]

ShikaNaru Weekend Day 2 -Genderbend AU

Day 2: Soulmate AU | Genderbend AU

Ao3 Link

@shikanaruweekend

~~/~~

“They want me to what?” Shikamaru couldn’t believe her ears as she stared at her mother who was sitting calmly across from her, but her eyes were averted.

“The war has been over for two years Shika-Chan, the clan elders are beginning to insist.” Yoshino kept her voice level as her daughter stared at her with shadows beginning to dance in her narrowed eyes.

Just like her father, Yoshino thought with a stab of pain at Shikaku and how he should still be here to help with this conversation. He had forced the elders to back down when Shikamaru had turned 16 and then things had snowballed into a full-scale war from there and there was no time to think about clan politics.

“They are thinking about what is best for the clan Shika-Chan,” Yoshino insisted when she realized Shikamaru wasn’t going to speak.

“So marrying me off to insure an heir is what is best for the clan?” Shikamaru’s voice was cold and collected in a way that had Yoshino shivering; this was her war-hardened daughter, the adviser of the Rokudaime Hokage and the planner of the Shinobi Union

“They will be presenting you with options tomorrow afternoon. I believe some of your friends are on the list and the Kazekage from Suna as you spent much time with him over the past years.” Yoshino said firmly, leaving no room for arguments.

Shikamaru’s lips flattened into a line as she stood up from her chair and left the room without another word. Yoshino let out a puff of air as she slumped in her chair, not realizing how hard it had been to breathe the angrier her daughter had become. Yoshino covered her eyes with one hand and let out a short laugh, the elders had no idea what her and Shikaku’s daughter was capable of and they were trying to back her into a corner.

Shikamaru stalked out of the Nara Compound, trying to settle the rage that coiling in her chest. She veered from her course towards her cloud watching hill to the training area’s, she needed to work off some of this dark anger before she could calm her mind down enough to think properly.

Shikamaru stood in the middle of training area 4 and took a few deep breaths as she let two kunai slip into her hands, one for each. She narrowed her eyes and leapt into the crowd of trees surrounding the training area. She bounced from tree to tree, letting kunai after kunai fly towards the well-used targets that were scattered about the high reaching branches.

Shikamaru landed on a wide branch, chest heaving beneath her vest and she slammed a fist into the tree trunk next to her, only slightly irked that it didn’t shatter apart as it would under like the other Kunoichi’s in her year.

Shikamaru tensed up when she felt a presence approaching from behind, she flipped off the branch and shot her shadows out to catch the interloper. She landed behind them and lifted a kunai, mainly on reflex than anything else.

“Whoa, Shika! It’s me!” Naruto yelped and Shikamaru instantly released her shadows, guilt welling up in her throat making it harder for her to breathe as she looked at the blond.

“Sorry Naruto,” Shikamaru muttered as she shoved her hands into her pockets as Naruto jumped over to land on the same branch as her.

“You’re upset, I could feel it across the village!” Naruto asked in honest concern and Shikamaru did her best to force down a blush that always tried to rear it’s head whenever she had Naruto’s attention focused directly on her.

“Just some clan politics, you don’t have to worry about it.” Shikamaru tried to sound as nonchalantly as she could manage. This wasn’t a problem Naruto needed to get involved in.

“I know I don’t understand all that stuff just yet, but you can always talk to me Shika!” Naruto promised as he rubbed the back of his head, sending her a sunny smile that somehow always managed to brighten her day.

“I’m of age to become the leader of my clan like my Tou-San before me…” Shikamaru sat on the sturdy branch, leaning back on her hands as Naruto dropped down next to her, swinging his legs as he gave her his full attention.

“There is a stipulation, if I was male this wouldn’t have even been brought up but as I’m not… It applies to me.” Shikamaru curled her short cut nails into the bark of the branch, lowering her head to try to hide her face from the blond next to her.

“What kind of stipulation?” Naruto asked in a quiet, serious voice as he took in her defeated posture, something he had never seen from her before, even at their lowest points in the war.

“Marriage,” Shikamaru murmured. “The clan elders are presenting me with a list to choose from tomorrow afternoon,”

“What.” Naruto’s voice was flat.

“Kaa-San hinted that Gaara may be on that list, we did work well together for the Chunin exams and I was his commander in the war. Plus he’s Kazekage and the elders would love that.” Shikamaru rolled her eyes, she did love Gaara but in the same way she loved Choji, like a sibling and the thought of marrying him left her wrinkling her nose in displeasure.

“You can’t marry Gaara!” Naruto’s voice was higher than it usually was.  

“I don’t think they are even stupid enough to put Choji or Sasuke on the list, but I wouldn’t put it past them.” Shikamaru rolled her eyes at the mere thought. Sasuke may have come back to Konoha in the end but Shikamaru still wanted to use her shadows to strangle him for everything he put them all through, for what he put Naruto through.

“That still leaves Kiba and Shino, maybe some civilian or random Jounin if they get desperate.” Shikamaru brushed off her bout of murderous thoughts towards Sasuke; after all, she had been doing it for years, so she had practice.

“Is there any way around it?” Naruto’s voice was back to void of emotion and Shikamaru sighed heavily as she leaned back on her hands to stare up at the sky that was blocked by the tree branches.

“If I get into a courtship before tomorrow afternoon basically, they couldn’t argue that.” Shikamaru chuckled humourlessly. She startled when Naruto suddenly was on his feet, eyes red and slitted making her stomach flip. She had seen him like this before and usually, it didn’t end well for those on the receiving end.

“Will you wait for me?” Naruto asked her seriously as they locked eyes and all anger and panic she had felt before fled from her.

“Always,” Shikamaru found herself agreeing before he flashed her a startled but happy smile and he was gone in a swirl of leaves.

Shikamaru curled her legs up to her chest to rest her forehead on her knees as she silently berated herself. She had gone years without giving away a single hint about her feelings for the Jinchūriki and then she went and said that? She must be more rattled about the news of her impending arranged marriage than she first thought.

“Argh!” Shikamaru exclaimed loudly and flopped back onto the branch, letting her arms hang down as she stared up at the fractured sight of the blue sky high above. She had no choice but to trust in Naruto, it was easy to do as she had been doing it since the Academy.

~~/~~

Shikamaru swiped at her hair, flipping it over her shoulders in annoyance as she shuffled down the hallway of the compound. She was dressed in a traditional Nara kimono in deep forest green, detailed silver hair ornaments hung from her loose flowing hair. Shikamaru had been forced to take it down from her standard ponytail for the occasion. Her Kaa-San had looked far too misty-eyed while helping her with her outfit for the day so Shikamaru had relented and allowed herself to be primped.

She supposed she was going to meet the man who could potentially be her future husband in this meeting and it left a sick feeling in her stomach. Naruto’s face flashed in her mind and a small flame of hope fought past the feeling of impending doom.

“You look so beautiful Shika-Chan, those boys won’t know what hit them.” Yoshino adjusted Shikamaru’s hair once more when the 19-year-old came to a stop outside the main meeting room of the compound.

“Thanks, Kaa-San,” Shikamaru murmured, glancing around hoping to find a flash of blond or a feel a burst of familiar chakra. Her shoulders slumped when neither appeared before she squared her shoulders and stepped into the meeting room.

Shikamaru kept her face neutral as all the people she expected to be there were already waiting minus Gaara, but she had no doubt he would arrive if he was chosen. All of them looked as awkward as she felt, she did feel a twinge of smugness when they all stared at her as she walked in as if they had never seen her before. She understood that as she mostly wore unisex clothing and the standard Chunin vest covered her chest while her current outfit accented them.

Before anyone could even open his or her mouth’s to speak the door flew open and familiar, warm chakra engulfed Shikamaru. She felt her lips turn up as she spun around.

“You’re late.” Shikamaru huffed out as she grinned at the sight of Naruto in a dulled down orange and black male kimono and a flush on his cheeks, obviously he had been hurrying.

“Ahaha, sorry about that! You waited for me though!” Naruto rubbed his head as he beamed at her.

“That’s what always means,” Shikamaru rolled her eyes fondly.

“Well, I’m here to officially ask you Nara Shikamaru to allow me to court you!” Naruto bowed lowly towards her and her eyes widened and she took a step towards him.

“You’re serious?” Shikamaru whispered in awe, unsure if she was dreaming or if she was caught in a Genjutsu.  

“This is the most serious I’ve been about anything in my whole life. I’m not just doing this because of stupid clan politics, or jealously. I’ve been talking with Iruka-Sensei and Kakashi-Sensei about how to properly court you for a while now.” Naruto said firmly as he looked at her with those bright blue eyes that Shikamaru adored.

“You’re a moron,” Shikamaru said fondly and lunged forward to hug him. She never doubted that he would have done this just because he was jealous, that wasn’t who Naruto was and that was one of the reasons she had fallen in love with him.

“Stay at my side from now on okay Shika?” Naruto whispered into her hair as they embraced tightly.

“I always have been at your side Naruto,” Shikamaru said instead of a promise and felt him smile against her head.

She vaguely heard words and money beginning exchanged behind them by her age mates. All she cared about was that she could finally come out of the shadows to stand next to Naruto in his light.

[churchyarddirt]

Girl! You already knew I love your blog. Can i have Muzan x Reader where Reader is an uppermoon who Muzan like to mess around ( you know sexy time ) with but Muzan also messed around with other demons as he please. Thank u.

Tysm! I love your blog too ^w^ you didnt specify if you want headcanons or scenarios so I'll stick them up together, but mostly headcanons

Y/n was upper moon 5, not too strong but compared to other demons - much stronger

Y/n became upper moon 4 years ago, at first Muzan hadn't payed much attention to her.

But unlike our demon lord, Y/n was head over heels in love

From the first time he cupped her cheeks and said "Y/n...You've been doing a pleasant job, you deserve to be amongst the upper kizuki, dont you think so?" He asked her one delightful night, Y/n was just done eating her weekly meal, she devoured over 49 people. So we can way she was one bloody mess

Even though Muzan hadn't felt anything towards her, he knew he liked her by appearance, he found her attractive

"You will start off as upper moon 5, do not disappoint me..." Muzan's deep voice echoed trough the Minka, he brought up his hand towards her eyes, gently brushing the air between them. Y/n's eyes got certain kanji after all "Y-Yes...Muzan-sama"

Y/n did amazing job but hadn't interacted with Muzan much, since she was new she wasnt summoned to most meetings and even if she did Nakime was the one here, reporting information to Y/n

Of course due to Muzan's temper, Y/n had to get punished for a small misunderstandings.

Basicaly she met Tanjirou and Nezuko and just ignored them, when they were really big threat and were on hunting, Y/n just simply forgot that all demons were ordered to kill them, she proceeded to eat humans somewhere else. And of boy how angry Muzan was

Y/n was sure she would die but he didnt kill her, just called her useless and paethethic

Veins popped on Muzans forehead "You call yourself an upper moon and you made such a blind mistake" he scoffed, his expression was displeased but Nakime and Y/n knew this was just 5% of anger that he felt "I-Im so sorry Kibutsuji-sama, I just forgot and went on w-" Y/n bowed on the flood, Suddenly he appeared in front of her "Who allowed you to speak?" He questioned, making Y/n gulp, looking up at him and by this way automatically giving him good access to her neck. Muzan suddenly gripped onto the females neck and picked her whole weight up, to face him. They had quite noticeable height difference so her feet hanged in the air. Muzan frowned

"What will happen if you will make similar mistake in the future, will you...." he cut his sentence mid off, Y/n's thoughts were something different, defiantly not what he expected

'Yeez...Should I be scared or aroused', 'I honestly dont mind him choking me' 'I hope it wont end soon' at this point Muzan knew that what Y/n felt for him wasnt just strong admiration

If it was another demon he would be disgusted, but for some reason he was quite amused Y/n felt this way. His face was now not frowning, but blunt. He had zero emotions, but he was in deep thinking, he slowly and gently removed the force from her neck, now choking her lightly 'Yes...there much better...why isn't he speaking?' Muzan read thoughts, he observed her. A pleasant smirked formed. He released her from his grip turning around and leaving her alone "If you will make mistakes again...there would be more severe punishments" he commented before gesturing Nakime to teleport her away

Ever since then we could say they both shared similar feelings towards each other, just no one of them showed it correctly

As time passed Y/n developed her style, she always had a lot of cleavage, not like daki but still cleavage.

One day Y/n was teleported to upper meeting, there she officially meet every upper demon member, she hit it off well with Douma - He was so curious and friendly with her after all!

Not long after Muzan appeared, wearing his vest suit and white clothing, with black pants, the casual and glamourous outfit of his. Y/n noticed no one bowed but rather just greeted him "Good day Muzan-sama~" Douma shouted, Muzan probably had good relationship with them

My my how wrong you were

Trough out the meeting he removed the heads of several upper demons, and they all didnt bother. Woah

Muzan leaned onto the table "Tell me your Acomplishemnts" he commended, his expression was always blunt and hard to read, he didnt seem interested in their speech at all "Y/n..." Muzan interpreted Akaza's speech, making you focus all your attention on him, he slowly patted on the wooden pattern "come here" he ordered, his expression unchanged.

'DOOES HE WANT ME TO SIT ON THE TABLE NEXT TO HIM-HGHGJ?!'

Muzan grinned at your thoughts "Continue akaza" he said with more pleased tone, sucking in the stressful and negative tention away. All other moons were more at ease.

You did as he said, and of course your thoughts did their best job at amusing Muzan, all the scenarios of him claiming you over and over on this table really intrigued him, no demon had ever dared to think so boldly of him, and not to mention he liked the way you looked, Muzan didn't mind.

"Disccust and prepare teams for attack on hajimeri hill" Muzan ordered, the demons started separating into teams and making a plan, they often worked together. You assumed you had to join them so you jumped down from the table, ready to leave.

However as soon as you started to walk Muzan quickly forced you back with his hand. He forced you to go under him, you could feel your ass pressing into the table harshly, your eyebrows frowned out of confusion, Muzan had small grin before griping your throat again

This time he wasnt too harsh, justcright to your liking. His fingers gently massaged your neck, making you close your eyes.

Oh how you wished this lasted forever

"You do know one of mine abilities..." He asked, making you open your resting eyes "...is the ability to read minds of my demons?"

This sentence

THIS ONE SENTENCE

made you regret you were born 'He read all my fantasies, all my dirty thoughts-' your mind was one messy place now. You tried to look away but his finger that was gently massaging your neck suddenly was harshly pressed onto your chin, keeping you in place

You couldn't comprehend your emotions "I'm so sorry I will stop-" Muzan's nails imtefierd with your skin, making you gasp. He was filling you up with his blood again

Before you could speak again he connected your lips together. It wasnt a messy kiss, just a small peck. But of course this wasnt the way he wanted to kiss you, you would find out soon.

From that day on he teased you and touched you as he pleased

At first it was just a constant need to have you close to him, now he groped you and touched you all the time

Whenever there was another upper moons meeting he would have you on his lap, and you always knew you were leaving the last.

Your most memorable memory with him was when he invited you to his house

And hardcore fucked you in front of his sleeping pretend wife. It was amazing quite/silent sex

Once Muzan ripped your top clothing off and groped you for 2 hours straight while you sat on his lap, you were glad you two were alone.

Whenever he wanted for you to give him attention he would come to you from behind, push your hair down and press you closer

But one day, he stopped messing with you in front of other demons, he didnt touch your ass or ordered to sit on his lap anymore.

You thought it would bother you that much, but it honestly made you...sad?

That's how it was for a week. Another meeting was held. Like always your stayed the longest. You tippy toed your way to Muzan that didnt seem to notice your presence at all "Muzzn-sama" you muttered, he lazily turned around to face you "Take a sit..." he ordered with a long sigh

You took a seat on his table, you were about to ask him what was wrong but he hugged you before you could utter a word.

Sure you two cuddled after sex in bed but this type of affection wasn't in your life. He pressed his face in your chest as his hands wrapped around your waist.

"I want you all to myself" he said, not emebrased or too happy. All you could is was just to accept it and gently brush his head

He didnt grope you around others but he was effectionate other ways, like hugging your waist, his hand on your hip/waist/shoulder. You could see the connection

But one thing bothered Y/n

It was Daki

Muzan called her special demon and even cupped her cheeks. Y/n wasn't pleased with it!

One night she headed to the forest with Muzan, all he did was cup her cheeks "I can do as I please Y/n, You should just be quite about it. Green doesn't suit you" he mocked her, Y/n was displeased but there wasn't anything she could do

Muzan held her hand firmly in his, even though he liked teasing Y/n, he knew that if there was a demok women who would bear his kids - It would be Y/n

Bonus

Y/n took a seat at his office, she was summoned by him. It wasnt the first time she was here, making herself at home she ordered his maid to make her a tea "Its good to see you my Muzan-sama" she greeted him with a yawn "Y/n...didnt I told you my opinion about you wearing short skirts" Muzan questioned her, his eyes still carved into paper work, oops. After he made it clear that she belonged to him, muzan hated seeing her wearing too revealing clothes "I didnt punish you, and I wont" this sentence made Y/n smile. But she knew he will want to receive something from her later. "I've been so good to you lately, you've been walking around as you please" he said in mocking tone "Y/n dont you think you are too selfish?" Y/n giggled at his words "So what are our conclusions" he asked, taking another paper. When he aske it, the answer always was 'I will change Muzan-sama' or 'I understand that I failed and I will do as you please' but Y/n was too goofy that day. Like a tiger she made her way closer to him, she sat bare ass on his table in front of him. Her legs on his papers. This made Muzan look at her instantly "The conclusions..." she questioned before gently cupping Muzans cheeks "That you are the best thing in my life" Muzan was dumbfounded, her little joke resulting in brutal make out session on his lap

[hardyimagines]

Fitz

This is called ‘its 2 am and I can’t sleep so I wrote this in 30 minutes’ also I watched this today and can’t get him out of my head!!!

DRABBLE ( SHOCK )

Warnings: smut (;

———

“Jesus, would you just drop it?” The heaviness of your tone warned the surrounding men to back off. Your agitation was seemingly growing by the second and the gun that Bridger had aimed at John wasn’t helping the situation at all. Your hands were set firmly on your hips, jutted out to the right side as you scrutinized the situation. “Put that down before you hurt yourself.” Bridger looked toward you, lips curving downward at your lack of worry. Did you not think he would pull the trigger and blow Fitzgerald’s brain all over the blanketed snow?

Fitzgerald was sat calmly on the rock he’d been sat on for an hour. His boots shuffled noisily in the crunching ice below as he adjusted himself on the boulder. It was beginning to irritate his rear, not exactly the most ideal surface to be perched on. He pushed another piece of meat past his lips, unbothered when pieces of it clung to his strands of facial hair. You moved past Bridger and took it upon yourself to brush away the gross-looking piece of food from his beard.

Bridger lowered his weapon then, eyes falling to the ground in defeat. He doubted he’d ever be able to shoot a man that wasn’t a physical threat. He took a small step back and then another before turning on his foot and heading back down the small hill toward the circle of men gathered around the growing fire.

You let out a heavy breath before pinching John’s beard. Tugging on it in the slightest to draw his attention solely on you, you sent him a glare before moving around the rock so you stood at the ledge of the cliff. Peering down at the river, you watched the racing water, crashing against itself and hidden rocks to create large splashes and life-threatening waves. You folded your arms, unable to admire the scenery because you were too alert for threats. There was no peace here, despite how it appeared.

“You just gonna starve yourself till your body eats its way from the inside out?” Fitzgerald muttered gruffly. His fingers pinched the raw meat, tearing it from the bone it was attached to.

“I don’t like that..” You told him firmly. “You know I dont. I’d rather eat some fish.” You hated fish. “Why the hell cant you cook it? You’re going to get sick eating it raw like you do.” Turning to face the man with a squint, your arm extended, finger pointed toward the flame a few feet away. “Sitting in the circle for ten minutes to warm the meat up won’t kill you, you know?”

“Being near Glass is bound to do the trick.” He bit back. Rising from his spot on the rock, he instantly towered over you. The coat that had been draped around his shoulders began to slide off of his broad form, unnoticed by him, so you stepped forward and swiftly caught the collar. Drawing it more securely around him and back into its proper place, you let your hands linger on his shoulders.

“You are such a baby.” Your words were a whisper. A playful tone danced in your insult.

Fitzgerald seemed to like the atmosphere you’d created, for he stepped closer to you, blue eyes gliding along your features as you smirked up at him. He lifted the meat, already cradled in the center of the two of you. But you swiftly stepped back and pushed his hand away.

“Oi, come here.” The hand that wasn’t coated in fresh blood extended toward you. He grasped ahold of your hip and easily drew you back toward him. “I wasn’t finished messing with you.” The meat in his hand was tossed on to the rock, instantly staying in place because of the amount of snow.

“I don’t want to be anywhere near you.” You teased, hands finding the middle of his stomach in order to keep some distance between your body and his. It was pointless, but he let you think you were actually doing something. He pretended to be restrained for a second before he managed to overpower your arms and lug you into him completely.

“Come on, give me a kiss.” His puckered lips were so very inviting, but the speckles of blood in his beard reminded you of what he’d just been feasting on.

“Baby, I really don’t want to kiss you after you were chowing down on some raw meat.. I love you, but I do have some restrictions.” Staring up at him intently when he trapped you against his bulky body, you weakened the longer he held you.

“Oh, you don’t want to kiss me?” He whispered, leaning in nevertheless. “Don’t break my heart, now..” He whispered as quietly as he did when there were threats present. You shivered noticeably, lips parting so you could let out a shaky breath. You heart thumped deafeningly, rendering you silent for a second.

“I do want to kiss you,” You elbowed him in order to get away. “but not when you taste like dead meat.” Shoving him back and away from you, you took the advantage of him being momentarily stunned before rushing toward the small hill so you could join the other men around the fire.

Glass watched from his peripheral, the way that you and Fitzgerald messed around with one another. He couldn’t believe it. John Fitzgerald was a cold, heartless son of a bitch that no one would miss should he fall ill or be slaughtered. Glass took a bite of the fish he cradled, dark eyes illuminated by the glow of the fire. He shared a look with Henry, neither one of them understanding how a man so cruel, so heartless, so careless, could fall in love. John went from beastly and inconsiderate when around them, to this playful, loved up teddy bear when with you. It was mind-blowing. He was two different people.

John was quick to follow you back toward the group of tired men. Nobody lifted their gaze to him, but most lifted their gaze to you. Soft smiles, polite ones, were exchanged. The men shuffled to make room for you, but didn’t bother making a space for the man that you — for some reason — loved. They knew he’d settle down behind you. You practically collapsed in the snow, kneeling in front of the fire happily. Basking in its warmth, you leaned forward to grab a stick and some of the raw meat on the plate in the corner. Jabbing the sharp end of the twig through the food, you stuck it in the flame and watched as the heat cooked your meal.

Fitzgerald lowered himself down behind your kneeling form. His legs opened wide, offering you the perfect place to settle down once you were ready to eat. He removed the canteen strap from around his neck before placing it by his side. The water sloshed noisily inside the hollow bottle, catching your attention for only a second before you looked back to the fire.

Bridger was avoiding all means of eye contact with John, too afraid to look at him after holding a gun to his head. He’d done it for a stupid reason — simply to show that he had some sort of power over the previous situation. It was about direction, where they needed to go, how they needed to get there. Long story short, they disagreed and Bridger thought drawing his gun was wise. It wasn’t. Fitzgerald would remember that.

Dropping down on your rear, you settled back and against John, small hand finding his thigh as you used his chest as a steady surface to lean on. Your knees bent, closed-toed shoes smushing the snow beneath them as you happily munched on the cooked meat.

John pressed his lips against the back of your head, leaving his mouth there for a few moments as he relaxed. He was warm. He didn’t know if it was because of the fire or your little body, but he was grateful for both. His lips moved from your head, down and around to your ear, resting there for a moment before he spoke lowly — almost inaudibly.

All the men around the fire found it difficult not to watch the pair of you. You were the only girl they’d seen in months and of all the men in the group, you’d chosen the meanest one. The smallest ounce of affection reeled them in so when you craned your neck around to inspect the bearded-bloke, they couldn’t stop staring. You lifted your hand to his cheek and pinched it softly before stealing a soft kiss. Shyness didn’t accompany John, not in the slightest. He didn’t care if the entire group watched him bend you over and take you on a sprawled out pelt, but you were a bit more.. classy.. than that.

“Quit it.” You whispered against his lips in response to the disgusting things he’d just whispered in your ear. You discreetly squeezed his thigh before looking back to your food. In attempt to distract yourself from the bubbling want in your belly, you pinched the meat and pushed it past your lips.

John didn’t mind the fact that you were playing hard to get. He knew it was because of the group. If nobody was here, he knew you would’ve rolled over on to your back, opened your legs, and begged him to do whatever he wanted. It wasn’t a secret to anyone that the pair of you were crazy about each other. It wasn’t a secret that you had sex. So he didn’t know why you were being so shy about it. His fingertips trailed along the length of your arm, so rough and cold against your skin, but still welcomed. He wore torn gloves, fingerless now because of all the hard labor he’d had to do over the last several months. His free hand found your hip, gliding along the waistband of your trousers. You briefly looked south when his thumb grazed the button on your slacks, but you didn’t say anything. He was just being John, he wasn’t actually going to do anything.

Your fingertips were red from touching the meat in your hands, tongue and teeth the same despite the fact that you’d cooked it semi-thoroughly. It wasn’t well done, it had been a little under medium rare. You let out a breathy sigh before looking toward the stars as they began to twinkle above. It was getting darker by the minute.

Shadows danced alongside the flame, joining in the branches of the swaying trees. John was continuously tracing the button on your trousers, caressing the cold metal as if it were really all that interesting. All of the men had lost interest and were now either trying to doze off, finish their meals, or get closer to the fire. You finished off your own meal, tossing the stick into the flame onced you were done. John drew you into him even more securely then, unable to resist from being your main source of warmth. You closed your eyes and gave yourself over to his touch.

Months ago when you’d been found scavenging through their campsite, they’d been ready to kill you. Fitzgerald, in fact, was the first one to remove his weapon from its holster. You weren’t a woman then, you were just a threat and you would’ve been disposed of if it hadn’t of been for your quick tongue. You’d explained how you’d been taking from your own camp whilst sleeping. The French, so angry and careless, had swept you from your sanctuary and taken you from your friends. Who knew if they were even still alive? You were very, very lucky to have escaped the bastards who’d taken you — one little mistake they’d made and your ran for days. You hid in tight spaces, avoided all open areas. You’d been on the run until the men you resided with now had found you. John’s group was nothing like the French. Nothing at all.

Fitzgerald had been on the side of the men who thought it was wise to kill you. You could’ve been a liar, a scheming thief, a heartless bitch with no care in the world for the men. And you probably would’ve been shot if it hadn’t of been for Glass. He found you necessary to keep, should an actual problem arise and a trade was needed. It was ironic, how you’d ended up with the rudest bloke of them all — but you considered yourself lucky. Beneath the hard, tough exterior of Fitzgerald was a cuddly teddy bear and he was all yours. He’d grown so attached to you and your smart mouth.

Fitzgerald undid the button on your trousers, instantly making you straighten defensively. Verbally asking him what the hell he was doing would only draw attention to the pair of you, so you remained silent. Your eyes dropped to his hand and your own fingers followed. Grabbing at him to try and shove his greedy palm away, you swallowed thickly. “Fitz.” You hissed breathily, attempting to be as silent as possible. He paid you no mind. The tips of his fingers moved under the waistband of your trousers, slipping further and further under the material until he was wrist-deep in your pants. The urge to gasp was strong, but you swallowed it down and instead let out a strangled whimper that you tried to disguise as a cough. It worked.

His fingers grazed your slit without hesitation, delicately caressing you. He was careful, slow, and beyond grateful for the warmth you gave back to his fingers. His mouth moved to your ear, husky and low as he spoke. “Close your eyes and keep calm.” His hips pressed against your lower back. “Let’s not draw any attention to ourselves.”

You craned your neck around slowly, mouth skimming his chin before you spoke against his beard. “I’m breaking up with you.” You grumbled sweetly.

He smirked visibly. “Well, then I’d better savor this, shouldn’t I?” He marked his words by firmly pushing his fingers against your clit and rolling the hardened bud gently around in a slow circle. Your eyes fluttered shut, body growing heavier and heavier as he held you. He leaned in and kissed your nose before adjusting his head so that your face fell into the crook of his neck.

The only person able to see what the two of you were actually doing was Glass and that made John feel completely in control. Cocky. Hot with pleasure to rub this into the bastard’s face. He wasn’t sure why he clashed so much with the man, but he did.

John took his time to pleasure you like he said. One finger made its way to your entrance, sliding into you with so much ease because of how wet you were. The other fingers played with your clit, poking and teasing and rubbing the bundle until your feet were squirming in the snow. He took pride in what he could do to your body. Red-faced, heavily breathing. He loved the way your knees pressed together and your hands fisted in the icy snow. You were the loudest woman he’d ever been with and he got so much pleasure from that. So to see you squirming, so desperate to make a sound and let him know how good he was doing, it made him feel quite powerful.

Glass knew what the two of you were doing. He was the farthest thing from an idiot, but he wouldn’t give John the satisfaction of knowing he was watching. He tried to distract himself, tend to hawk, look at the food, watching the surrounding trees to ensure that they weren’t being stalked — anything to keep from ogling the pair of you.

Fitzgerald added another finger, pumping it simultaneously with the other and jus as agonizingly slow. He wasn’t usually so tender with you, he was a rough lover, a hard, fast man that took the dominance and ran with it. This was a different side to him, one that you actually quite liked.

Your toes curled inside your boots and your teeth sunk down on your bottom lip. Nibbling at the pink flesh until it was sore and swollen, you didn’t stop fidgeting until your body grew tingly. “Oh, John..” The words were impossible for anyone to hear. He felt your clenching around his fingers, making his job in pumping them a little bit more difficult. Your back pushed into his chest firmly, feet sliding in the snow as you arched slightly. He moved his mouth to your neck, attempting to mask your orgasm with a look of mere pleasure from a neck kiss. You whined breathily, thighs closing and trapping his arm in place. He could tell you wanted to thrust your hips, rock them vigorously in order to draw out your orgasm, but that would be too obvious, so instead you twitched and wiggled, eyes clamping shut as wave after wave of ecstasy ran through you.

It took a few moments for you to come down from your orgasm, but once you had, you were unsure of whether to punch him or kiss him. He withdrew his fingers from your trousers, lifting them instantly to his lips so he could lick them clean. He blamed it on the fact that he didn’t have a rag, but you both knew it was merely because he wanted you to see just how much he enjoyed you. Your soft eyes moved along his face before you lifted yourself up and rotated around. Kneeling between his spread thighs, you hooked your arms around his shoulders and pressed your lips against his own. He let out a moan of surprise, hands lifting to steady your hips as your mouth assaulted his. You slid closer, moaning unashamedly into his mouth. This part — you didn’t care if everyone watched or heard. He swallowed each of your sounds with ones of his own, grunting and humming each time you suckled on his tongue. His hands moved south to your thighs, gripping them so he could guide you completely on to his lap. Forcing you to straddle him in his seated position, his hands returned to your hips, urging you to grind against him.

“Mh..” You drew back breathlessly. “Let’s go.” You hissed. Standing from his lap, you shoved your messy strands of hair out of your face. Leaning over in order to snatch his hand, you lugged him up with difficulty.

John would’ve asked questions, but he already knew where you wanted to go. Somewhere — anywhere private. Who was he to deny you?

He followed obediently as you pulled him away from the bright, cracking fire and through the trees until it was impossible to see. He had no time to ask questions before you had him on the ground, covering your body like a blanket as you laid in the ice cold snow. Your hands were on his waistband, undoing his belt and shoving at his trousers desperately. You hadn’t wanted him this badly in months, not since the very first time the pair of you had slept together. It was exciting — risky, hot, and it made you feel so happy.

How he had such a strong effect over you, you didn’t know, you’d been trying to enjoy your meal and now here you were, hungry for something so different. You supposed that’s what love did to people.

—

Morning came around sooner than anybody would’ve liked. You were fast asleep against Fitzgerald’s chest, sleepily nuzzling into him the brighter that it grew to be. His arms were wound around you snugly, protecting you from the cold wind that whipped around your bodies now and again.

Glass was fast asleep, Hawk was messing with a stick, Bridger was on lookout duty. Henry was peering down at the river. Anderson was snoozing still.

You rolled around again when the sun’s rays weaved through the tree branches and shone down directly on your face. Whimpering in distaste, your hand moved to your face, shielding your eyes from the alarm clock that you didn’t ask for. Opening your droopy eyelids, you leaned up on your elbow, sleepily peering down at Fitzgerald as he slept soundlessly. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. So peaceful, unbothered. You stole a very small kiss, a brush of the lips before you rolled to the side and leaned up on your knees. Rising so you could stretch, your arms extended high up into the air, hands closing into tight fists as you woke your body up fully. There was no going back to sleep now.

Stepping over Anderson’s legs, you made your way toward the ledge where Henry was and peered out at the water that noisily raced along stream.

“Sleep alright?” He inquired quietly.

“Mh, crick in my neck, but that’s bound to happen.” You told him quietly before sending him a soft smile. “You?”

He nodded. He didn’t speak again for a few more moments. “It’s quiet.” He adjusted the rifle in his hands. “Where are all the animals?”

You lifted your gaze to him, arms folding over your chest. His words made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, stomach churning in disapproval at his assumption. “You think someone’s near?”

Henry pursed his lips. “Arikara don’t ever come this far.” He whispered softly. “You stick close to Fitzgerald.” He turned away from you then. “I reckon it’s the French.” He didn’t want to scare you — but at the same time he did. Letting your guard down was the last thing anyone needed and he wanted to be sure, even if it meant scaring you into it, that you were safe and protected.

You stiffened visibly before slowly moving your gaze back to the stream. All the memories of being held hostage by the French came rushing back. You felt sick, cold, and afraid all at once. It was enough to make you think you were going to pass out. You wobbled on your legs before hurriedly moving back toward your space beside Fitzgerald. You never wanted to be held hostage again, not by the low-life, scum of the earth pricks who’d had you before. Your hands fisted against your boyfriends chest, beating against it firmly enough to wake him.

“The French are near.” You whimpered out brokenly. “I can’t go back to them, John.”

He was bleary-eyed, momentarily confused. Your words didn’t register within him for a few moments, but once they had he was up and his rifle was in hand.

Their was a pop to the left, a loud crunch and then the sound of a gunshot. Glass was awake in seconds and Anderson rolled into the fire from the sheer shock. They dusted themselves off before lifting themselves up and all at once, the men prepped themselves for a war.

The French were here and not a single one of them was visible.

———————————————————————

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[ms31x129]

The end is here Chapter 7! I went simple with this DJ Jackson/William was shaped by 2 couples who loved him. That’s at the heart of this incredible story, imho.  @cultureisdarkbeer @monikafilefan @today-in-fic

Chapter 1 - Courage to Jump Tumblr LINK  AO3 it is HERE.

Chapter 2: Luck of the Irish Tumblr LINK or AO3 it is HERE.

Chapter 3: Graffiti of the Heart Tumblr LINK or AO3 HERE.

Chapter 4: Leave Your Demons At The Door Tumblr LINK or AO3 HERE.

Chapter 5: Truth Is the Pain Inside Our Hearts Tumblr LINK or AO3 HERE.

Chapter 6: Final Destination Tumblr LINK or AO3 HERE. 

Chapter 7: Full Circle <<AO3 Link or if you like Tumblr you know the drill clickity-click on the Keep Reading link below. 

{Summary:

Jackson’s journey has come full circle, but what happens before it finally comes to an end?}

“Everything has a way of coming full circle. It takes patience and perseverance to see a dream through… to close that circle. Because some dreams, like some circles, can be much bigger than others.” -Karen Dale Trask

The fresh spring breeze tousled Jackson’s unruly hair. It either frizzed or flopped around his cowlick and left him consistently smoothing it down more often than not. He couldn’t help but wonder who he’d gotten that trait from: Mulder or Dana? Would he call her Dana or Mother or… Mom? Not that. He didn’t think he could ever find it in his heart to call anyone Mom again.

Jackson couldn’t help but think back to the moment he first spoke face to face with his birth mother. After hearing her heartfelt confession in the morgue, the one that made his gut tumble to his toes, he made a silent promise that he would talk to her at some point in the future. He just had no idea that the chance to make good on that promise would present itself so soon after he made it. He had just endured the worst day of his life after witnessing his parents lying lifeless on the floor covered in blood, and then hearing the words of a mother he never thought he’d meet left him reeling. Using Ghouli for selfish reasons had him feeling overwhelming guilt; yet seeing her and Mulder, under the guise of an illusion at that off-the-beaten-path gas station, had softened the ironclad armor he was trying so hard to construct around his heart...

The bell attached to the gas station door chimed and a tall man walked in.

“Can I get $40 on the SUV out there, please?” Jackson could see the attendant in his peripheral ringing the guy up as he popped a sunflower seed in his mouth. He watched the man turn to him and nod up at the TV where the Pirates and Nats were tied in the bottom of the 4th inning.

“You follow baseball?” His voice was low and smooth in a familiar sort of way that flowed over Jackson with ease.

Feeling a wave of goosebumps spike across his arms, he glanced over inside his illusion and directly locked eyes with the man his birth mother had embraced in the morgue: Fox Mulder.

Slowly nodding, Jackson answered, “I’m a Yankee’s fan myself.”

“Me, too!”

“Too bad I’m leaving town. Maybe, we could have caught a game,” Jackson sighed, confused that he actually meant it.

Mulder shrugged and scoffed at the pop fly to the pitcher's mound. “Yeah, maybe.”

“I bet a G-man can get good seats.” He nudged Mulder’s arm and pointed to the exposed badge sticking out of his jacket pocket.

Mulder narrowed his eyes at Jackson, the same ones he saw in the mirror every day. “Good eye.”

He huffed. “Gotta have one nowadays.”

Mulder smirked, nodding in agreement, and a flicker of sadness washed over his face as the screen focused in on a father and son laughing as they cheered on their team. “Years ago, I had the hope of taking my own son to a game.”

A knot began to form in Jackson’s throat. He cleared it and decided to leave a little something for the obvious emotionally worn-down man standing nearly shoulder to shoulder with him. “Well, maybe one day you can. Don’t give up.”

The smell of baked goods caught his attention and the memory of his first encounter with his birth father faded. He ventured over to the small mom-and-pop shop called “Little Virginia’s Bakery and Novelty Shop” with a renewed sense of purpose and food on the brain.

“Perfect!” His empty stomach rumbled in agreement.

For being an out-of-the-way shop, the little place held a few farmers, a family of three, and an elderly couple tucked away in the back. The sweet scent of cinnamon and sugar filled the air and Jackson’s mouth watered instantly.

“Hi there!” The silver haired woman stood from her corner table to greet him. “Welcome to Little Virginia’s. Hungry?” Her brown eyes trailed him from head to toe, assessing his dirty, worn jeans, well-loved jacket, and mussed hair. Jackson was sure he would hear a grandmother-like lecture about taking good care of himself; one he knew he’d never heard from one of his own. But, instead, she smiled and nodded to the bakery case. “How about I get you a nice carb-filled breakfast while you take a look around the place? Can’t help but assume you just might like something you see.” She pointed to the baseball on his shirt from his Freshman year travel league team—which he was reluctantly kicked off of for skipping too many practices.

“Uh, sure, okay. Thanks,” he stammered, unsure of what she meant by that yet followed her gaze to the wall behind him. Gasping, he wandered over to the large shelving unit filled with snow globes. “Wow!”

The wall was covered with a wide array of different sized globes. Each one was unique in design and meaning. Just like the collection back in his room that he’d never see again, he thought bitterly. He scanned each shelf from top to bottom, searching for one that called to him. It was something that he and his mom used to do on family vacations when they visited tourist shops.

Jackson slowed his mind and chose not to fight against the happier memory tickling at his brain of his very first snow globe that sparked not only the start of his collection, but his interest in all things cryptid...

“Jackson? There you are! I’ve been looking for you,” his mom chastised, grabbing his arm and kneading it between her fingers. “You wandered off again and left me wondering where my son’s imagination had decided to lead him this time.”

He sighed, hoping he wouldn’t be grounded later because of the strong attraction to what was staring him in the face at the moment. “Sorry, I just saw this and liked it.”

With a ruffle of his thick hair that dipped along his forehead, his mom chucked. “That certainly is an… interesting snow globe.” Jackson shook it and the white, glittery flecks swirled like a storm. “Why this one? It doesn’t seem to fit your space-themed bedroom.”

A grin spread across his chocolate stained mouth. “Oh, it does, Mom. Just like with outer space, there’s mystery behind the existence of Sasquatch. You know, guesses...”

She shook her head. “Theories, you mean,” she corrected, “just like with space. Jackson, you are too smart for your own good, you know that?”

His mom teased yet it was the truth; and he knew it. He knew a lot of things he wished he didn’t. “Yeah, I do.”

“Hey, kid!” A deep voice snapped Jackson’s eyes open and back to the shop. He stared at a man through one of the large glass globes and nearly laughed at the distorted fun house image he saw looking back. “You alright?”

“Yeah, uh yes, I’m fine,” he said, quoting his usual line when anyone asked how he was. “Just checking these out. I used to collect them, actually.” He wasn’t sure why he was sharing personal information with a stranger. He’d never done that before, but the kindness in the man’s eyes reminded him of his dad.

“Used to?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, just haven’t added to my old collection in a few years.”

“Well,” the man started as he adjusted his hat, “looks to me like you’re ready to start a new one.” Jackson raised a brow and watched as the man went and sat back down in his chair with a smirk peeking out from his mustache.

As Jackson continued to look through the mass of watery globes, he considered that the old man was right. Starting something new was exactly what he was hoping to accomplish. Just then, a ray of sunlight struck the glass on a small, circular one out of the corner of his eye. It sat on the shelf nestled in a row of sports themed snow globes. The one he felt compelled to touch left him baffled at the significant meaning. If he weren’t fully aware of the pain-free feeling in his skull, he might think the image inside the globe was a snapshot of a future vision.

Holding it up into the light, the tiny people inside painted an exact picture of a life that Jackson thought he was never meant to have.

A man stood on the pitchers mound, arm wound back in an arc, ready to let loose a curveball with the way his fingers were gripped around the seams. The batter was a boy with brown hair who leaned over the plate, wooden bat cocked back and poised in the air. There was a woman sitting on a grassy hill near the boy, strands of her red-gold hair were fisted within a tiny infants grasp cradled in her arms. In that moment, Jackson actually believed that fate was calling.

Over an hour later, Jackson had made it to the desolate Wallis road, his belly full and spirits lifted, but a part of his heart remained heavy. Nature called, so he found a tree among the weeds to relieve himself. As he zipped back up, in the far distance he noticed the roof of the house, and reality punched him square in the solar plexus. Would the DoD pick up his trail? By taking these next steps, did it place them all in danger? Maybe they had moved on and were a happy family without him—complete and worry free.

Maybe, his trek should end where he stood.

His thumb rubbed the glass auricle buried deep in his jacket pocket; the crinkled letter folded next to it worn by years, travel, and his own perspiration poked at the back of his hand. Both of them provided reassurance. Perhaps, another link from the past held an answer along with some courage. There was still one line left to read after all. Carefully, with trembling fingers he unfolded the paper and the heart-wrenching words flowed freely from his lips.

“And in that moment, you will be blessed… and stricken… for the truest truths are what hold us together, or keep us painfully, desperately apart .”

An explosion of images seared through his brain in a rapid fire of painful impulses, like an electrical storm burning across his neurons. He was assaulted by her face, her voice, her scent... It was then that Jackson refocused, the revelation that he had returned to a monumental moment in the past—a crucial turning point, as he began to walk his mother’s path one last time.

March 22, 2002

Her hands shook as she closed the door and entered her dark, silent apartment. She tore her purse, shoes, and jacket off in the entryway and let them fall carelessly to the floor. Her heart beat wildly within her chest as intense anxiety buzzed through her body, like a saw blade humming through flesh. Pushing it away yet again, she stumbled through the dim hallway, stopping abruptly as she came to a cracked open door.

She gasped, taking in the sight of the empty crib. Ignoring the voice in her head that Jackson could hear screaming for her to run—to hide and shut it all away, she allowed her fingertips to dance along the cool wooden bed where her son should lay dreaming. With a trembling chin, she reached in and grabbed his cream blanket, the one her mother had knitted for him when she hadn’t yet known to use pink or blue.

“Mom…” Jesus, her mother will never understand; she might always blame her for searching for answers to obscure questions when her miracle was held within her arms. She slammed her eyes shut as the memory of her mother’s advice played out behind her lids for Jackson to witness…

February 18, 2002

Sliding her arms into her jacket as she prepared to leave, she said, “Mom, it’s important. I wouldn’t go if it weren’t.”

Frustrated, her mother shook her head and clutched baby William tighter against her hip. “Yes, I know, Dana. You say it’s about getting answers.”

Shaking her head, she sighed and her eyes flicked to her son playing with his grandmother’s sweater, blissfully unaware of his role in life. “Answers about William, Mom.”

“I know you’re worried about him—that there are things about him that you just can’t explain. But, even if you were to get those answers, what would it change?”

With emotions flaring, her voice trembled as she tried to explain in the simplest way possible. “Mom, he’s my child.”

Refusing to back down and stay silent, she pleaded with her daughter to listen. “And you have to love him and raise him in spite of everything.” Stepping closer, her mother’s tone softened as her hazel eyes met watery blue. “Dana, God has given you a miracle. A child that wasn’t supposed to be.” Gazing down at her grandson with pride, she offered, “Maybe, it’s not to question—just to be taken as a matter of faith.”

Feeling lost and alone with horrible thoughts swirling of what secrets may be out there regarding her son, she stared at her mother’s worried expression and told her the truth. “Mom, I can’t take this on faith. I need to know,” she explained, soothing William’s soft, fuzzy hair, wishing she could fully trust what her heart was telling her. “I need to know if it’s really God I have to thank...”

Jackson felt his mother stiffen as her own memory melted away. Her eyes snapped open yet the residual turmoil of her mother’s words remained entwined like barbed wire within her chest.

“Oh, Mom...” she whispered and bit her lip until it hurt almost as much as her heart.

She inhaled a deep breath, her knees buckling at the strong baby scent and that’s when she saw it: her own withdrawn, broken reflection in the small mirror hung above the rocking chair. How could she look herself in the mirror ever again and not see someone who had simply given up, who didn’t have the courage to stand by her son and fight to the death to protect him? His father would have if he were here. Yet, she sent him away to keep their son safe, and now she was left with nothing.

Guttural cries finally burst free from her mouth, the awful feeling of guilt and sadness overwhelmed her. Pressing the scent of their baby boy to her face, she screamed into the yarn of the blanket as her emotions warred on. Her mother: a God-fearing woman who forgives as easily as she loves, would never forget what her daughter had done here tonight.

Emptiness echoed in the silence, fatigue pulled at the weariness beneath her lids as her fingers ran along the soft stitching connecting the satin to the plush cotton. Her body felt hollow, like a shell that held nothing but an ocean of tears and shards of glass wedged between her soul and her heart.

It hurt to be in her son’s room where he slept and played and nursed and listened to her terrible singing and… it hurt to breathe. “Oh God, Mulder, please forgive me.”  

A heavy layer of sorrow covered her chest, suffocating her. The reality of her decision surrounded her with every shallow breath she took. “Mulder, I’m so sorry,” she whimpered, fiery tears burning her down the column of her throat. “Our truest truth… our son, he’s held us together and now… and now desperately apart.”

No matter if her choice was right or not, William was their son: a living breathing product of their everlasting love, their miracle… and now he was gone. No matter her constant worry of the safety and origin of the miracle she held within her arms every day—had loved unconditionally the moment she knew he existed; she had willingly given away a part of her and Mulder’s love. A love so strong that it conquered the impossible and produced a wondrous gift. In that very moment, she knew she would carry this heaviness in her heart until the day she died. And Jackson felt her terrible thought that just maybe, she deserved to.

He felt his mother slipping away from his grasp as she road the roaring tide of her emotions. She and her gut-wrenching sobs were fading, drifting off into darkness where he knew she would rebuild her fortress of stoicism in order to survive, dimming the remaining light in her life as the vision did the same for him.

Time stretched like a rubber band connecting the past to the present. Jackson separated achingly slow from his mother’s grief with images fading into the back of his mind as his own anguish took hold.

“Ah, dammit!” The sheer agony that had coursed through her veins was enough for Jackson to still taste the metallic remnants of blood from her gnawed bottom lip within his own mouth. The upheaval of emotional static was in his head, shredding it from the inside—the side effects of constant fears and self-doubt. The selfless suffering felt from an unconditional love took away a piece of him as it took from her, unraveling the purity in his soul.

He felt his chin tremble uncontrollably, like it did when he was nine and was teased on the playground for being “weird.” He felt it: the last remaining bricks of the wall that stood to protect and uphold his heart crumbled, leaving him bare and exposed. The flashback sucked the breath from his chest and he folded, collapsing into himself and driving him to his knees.

Squinting up at the sun with a sheen of sweat across his brow, he clenched his fists, blanching his knuckles as nails dug deeply into the palms of his hands. Slamming them to the ground, Jackson screamed. The sound piercing the early afternoon sky like an air raid siren, unleashing the remaining demons from the scars that had refused to heal. The agony left his lungs with the strength of a gale force wind, begging the sun for its rays of light to soothe away the darkness. The torment felt as though it ripped his muscles, bones, and flesh to shreds. His dark lashes brimmed heavy with tears and the dam burst when his emotions surged against it. Crystal beads streamed from his deep blue eyes as heaving sobs tore at his throat and wracked his chest—the weight of his grief pressing him into the ground where he knelt.

Within the last year, he had cried all of three times: the night of his parent’s death, once out of sheer loneliness, and now from the effects of this letter. These words from his mother had saved him from the monster, the one indifferent to suffering and sorrow, and got him to feel.

Jackson dug into the dirt with the balls of his feet and pushed off, taking mighty strides as he sprinted before even aware of the conscious decision. His bag bounced along his shoulders, his long dark colored locks whipping back and forth behind him as he leapt large rocks and dodged roots. Charged with adrenaline surging through his veins, he had to keep running forward; nothing would stop him now. As quick as his long legs could carry him, his shoes hammered the hard earth that mimicked the pounding in his chest. The smell of bark and pine invaded his nostrils, his burning lungs begging for air, but Jackson embraced the pain. His shirt clung to his form, damp with sweat and tears and he ran, feeling her presence like he could feel her mind. He finally let down the mental barrier he had held up against reaching out and into her mind, liberating him.

All the signs, all the things leading him to reach this very path was fate; it had intervened and he knew now—felt it now… William needed to come home.

Now, the boy who had always felt split in two was whole. Now, he was finally fine . He was free.

By the time he reached the gated driveway to the property, the pain had dissipated as hope and truth dominated. One hand rested on the cold iron; his limbs on fire as he panted, trying to catch his breath. The well-worn house stood taller now—a simple A-frame with a couple dormers and extended front porch. The fence surrounding the property consisted of many shades of weathered wood, time and sunlight painting it several grayish and brownish hues. Beyond its confines stood a patchwork quilt of several grasses and wildflowers, sewn together by a dusty road. For a glimmer of a moment, he envisioned a little sister running through the rolling grass, chasing a dog to hug and cuddle, the puppy stealing licks while they laughed in amusement and drank tea on the front porch.

Jackson pulled open the heavy gate and stepped onto the familiar ground his feet had yet to tread. A deep breath calmed his rising nerves, as did walking through the tall wheat grass swaying in the open breeze. It all reminded him of his childhood farm and working the fields with his dad.

The land here grew wilder than his dad would allow, although so did he and, he suspected, so did the pair that occupied that house. He continued on, the rhododendrons now in full bloom overpowered the nearby flowers. They greeted his senses and he became more engrossed, living in the moment like he had never experienced before. This was real. His futuristic visions foreshadowed death and hellfire, reeking of ash and rot. But here, only birds sang and thick, green foliage swayed with the breeze, covering the sound of distant traffic.

For so long his thoughts never stopped spinning, visions of pasts and futures, the constant questioning of himself was nothing but a furnace of pain hidden beneath a forced smile and occasional happiness. All of that stood silent now. For the first time in his life there were no thoughts, only instincts. Ones that he trusted. So he continued walking along the gravely dirt driveway, up the worn steps to stand at their faithful door.

Somehow it all made sense, that the flashback visions would take him back to where this all began, bringing him full circle to find the truth; taking him back to the night where his old life had ended and was given a new one. The night William M. Scully became Jackson Van de Kamp. He was both Jackson and William, he realized: Chimera born—one boy with two sets of parents who loved him. One remarkable teen with a remarkable past standing on the porch of an unremarkable house, hoping to share a future with those who sacrificed everything for him.

Jackson had navigated his way through his birth mother’s past and his own—effectively finding himself during a time when he was truly lost. And, now, the son of Fox Mulder and Dana Scully would finally cross their threshold as his whole self, an open book written in a language only they could fully understand.

A flutter of nervousness began to churn in his gut. He shut his eyes, inhaling a deep breath and counted to ten, recalling what his dad had told him to do when he felt this way. Those familiar words of wisdom embraced him, giving him the push he needed to let loose three confident knocks to the squeaky screen door. Footfalls and muffled voices could be heard through the oak door and his heart pounded through his shirt.

A smile pulled at Jackson’s lips when he realized that he was standing inches from the proverbial edge of what was his leap of faith for a new beginning, completely unafraid and committed to jump.

[journal-of-an-outlaw]

Price to be Paid

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

AO3 Link

Chapter 7

Mary Linton. 

At least, you guessed that’s who he was so upset about. 

Arthur had been gone for hours chasing that woman who held his heart all these years later. He continued to bang around a bit longer, then finally went to sleep and left the camp quiet. 

The next morning you and Mary-Beth ate breakfast together by the campfire. “YN...what do you think of that O’Driscoll fella we picked up in Colter?” 

Her eyes drifted over to the poor man tied up to the bare tree stump. While he seemed a bit unimpressive to you, Mary-Beth had been making not so secret eyes and sneaking him food all week. Part of you disagreed but it did make him whine less, so it seemed beneficial to all in the end. 

Sean was currently standing in front of Kieran taunting him about something or other. They were a contrasting pair to observe. Kieran dark and angular while Sean was light and rounded. A small half smile found its way to Mary-Beth’s face. 

“You sweet on him?” She blushed and looked back to you.  “You don’t really think he’s with them, do you?” 

“No, Mary-Beth I sure hope not. Once Dutch lets him off that tree I’m sure he’ll be fine, wish they wouldn’t torment him so. Needs to give them information or something. Earn his keep. I think Sean approves of him!” Hosea walked by and smacked Sean on the back of the head lightly for being a pest, and he dramatically fell over and rolled away. 

“Mornin, ladies!” Sean’s accent was pleasant if very different from everyone around you. 

“Sean, what do you think of that Kieran?” You asked on Mary-Beth’s behalf. 

He contemplated for only a moment before answering. “Seems a decent fella. Could maybe use a bath but all around not a bad one. Hopefully he cracks soon ol’ Dutch don’t like to be proved wrong for long. Should I tell him to come calling, YN? Fancy a ride with the new stallion is it?” 

“No! Jesus, Sean, please no,” Sean had started imitating riding a horse as a play on his words and fake galloped away. Mary-Beth couldn’t stop laughing, and the two of you enjoyed your morning and the ends of your meal together. 

Later in the morning you were helping Grimshaw bring in the laundry from the line. The eternal blue sky had given way to dark storm clouds heavy with rain so you hurriedly pulled the drying pieces down. Abigail stood next to you and the two of you chatted about the past few days, catching up in what felt like the first time in ages. 

“I have heard all kinds of crazy lately. You huntin’ with Charles, damn Mary’s in Valentine calling on Arthur, poor Lenny was nearly lynched some days ago. Makes you miss the old days of just wonderin’ who was shooting behind you.” 

You lifted a particularly heavy blanket up off the line, and Abigail watched you. 

“You know how to read, YN?” 

“Sure. Love reading, not very good at writing though. Words don’t come to me the same way when they’re my own. I feel the same way about music. ”

Abigail sighed and looked a bit downtrodden. “I...I never learned. I kinda hoped, well it’s selfish. But that I wasn’t alone.”

You watched her drop the last few pieces into her basket while a particularly loud clap of thunder hit. Both of you jumped and she grabbed her basket to leave. “Abigail, I may not be a good teacher but I’d love to have you learn! We can form a little book club.” She nodded and smiled, but the storm must have frightened her as she took off quickly.  

“So! YN, you’re still with us then. Little bird tells me you’re fittin’ right in.”

Ugh. Michah. He continued to talk and moved closer. “Shooting, and hunting,” suddenly he was right up against you, “and riding long, hard days. Is that right?”

You shoved a blue shirt into his chest and pushed him off, moving to the next piece and wishing he would leave. “At least pretend to help.” 

“Why won’t you let me show you the best this gang has to offer?” Michah posed with one foot up on a tree stump, seeming to believe this would work on you.  

“Mr. Bell, I haven’t given you permission to call me that so from now on I will be Miss Moore to you. As far as the best this camp has to offer? I seen better prospects looking at the pigs in Valentine. Leave me the hell alone.” 

Rage colored his face as his hands shot out to your neck. Instantly you dropped the clothing you were holding and clawed at him to release you. He was not impressed with your spirit, and leaned in closer. 

“You better watch that mouth of yours, girly, if you know what’s good for you. Think you’ll turn me down?” He spit on the ground to the side of you. “You’ll never see freedom again.” 

Michah let go of your neck and walked back towards his tent, yelling so everyone could hear, “I don’t intend to lose to these idiots.

Over the next week, camp was a bustling scene. John’s livestock con became a full blown plan to rob a farmer of his sheep, and the possibility of passing them off as his own to sell grew with each addition Dutch and Hosea suggested. Some train robbery was being planned too and it seemed Dutch was stretched rather thin. The camp desperately needed money and Herr Strauss had lent more than he should have. You agreed to go along with whatever you could help with in order to stay in their good graces. 

That O’Driscoll boy Kieran had a plan of his own, too. From his days running with them he knew of a place not far from Horseshoe Overlook called Six Points Cabin. Colm O’Driscoll himself was said to be hiding out there as a safehouse with some of his gang. Arthur, John, Bill, and Kieran were set up to ride when you begged Dutch to let you go with them. It seemed an easy enough plan. Head in, see if the boss was there or not, then take his plans and go. He agreed, and gave you a few more guns to bring along with you. You loaded up the shotgun and rifle, adding them to your pistol hiding on your horses saddlebags. 

Some of the group was weary of you going. Truthfully you didn’t have much practice with a gun, and even less shooting at real people. Sure, Lenny had helped work on your aim but you were nowhere near perfect. 

Kieran seemed genuine enough but you hadn’t had the chance to talk with him much. Riding Eclipse, he commented that she was a beauty. He was stuck on the back of John’s horse and it was clear he envied those riding solo. He surprised you with easy conversation until the turning point for Six Point Cabin. 

“Swing a left! Up here now. And everyone off your horses, the sound will echo for miles around,” he warned. You grabbed your shotgun and crouched down to mask your footprints. The other men continued to give Kieran a hard time about being an O'Driscoll, but as the only other outsider on this mission you didn't say a word. Truly you understood how hard it could be to fit in. Only rolled your eyes and smiled when he needed support. Damn bastards. Kept joking about gelding him, and you pitied when he winced away in fear. 

Three O’Driscoll guards snuck up on you. One started taking a piss and you blanched at the disgustingness of it. John grabbed Kieran to make sure he didn’t squeel but he was as silent as could be. Arthur decided to deal with that man alone, choking him out silently from behind. After the man was set down on the ground silently Arthur motioned for the rest to join him, with John and Bill threw knives taking out the two remaining guards. 

“Miss Moore, you’re in charge of keeping young Kieran here out of trouble. Stay back on the hill until we clear the camp out below.” Arthur didn’t look at you while he barked orders but moved on quickly so you didn’t have time to protest. Kieran gave you a sympathetic glance once they had left. 

“Oh, shut up. I’ll stay behind but it’s not ‘cause I want to.” You didn’t have a choice and both of you knew it. But you huffed anyways. 

Bill stepped on a branch, causing the men from below to look up and notice they were about to be taken over. “Men in the camp! We got men in the camp!” There was nothing you could do but twiddle your thumbs with Kieran while you watched the boys take out the remaining gang members. After the gunfire cleared, the pair of you moved down the hill to help the others loot the bodies. A few pocket watches and some wedding rings that had seen better days were tucked away in your satchel while Kieran started towards Arthur. 

“See there! I ain’t lying. Like I said, he’s worse than Dutch so please, let me stay with y'all I’m a dead man otherw -”

Kieran was cut off by the front door of the cabin bursting open and man with a shotgun running straight towards Arthur. Your heart jumped out of your chest and you tried to yell but Kieran shot the man first. 

“You alright?”

“Sure, thank you.” 

You watched as Kieran extended Arthur a hand up; such an overly bland exchange for folks who had just saved the others lives. 

“Men…” you shook your head and walked off, not believing that these fools were the ones you depended on at this moment. 

Colm ended up not being at the camp, but it was a good blow to his gang. Arthur was mad as he rode off ahead of your group but you had a good amount of wares taken from the cabin and weren’t about to complain. Kieran even showed you how Colm liked to hide a stash of money in chimneys which was a huge win. 

Dutch was more aligned with Arthur however when you got back to camp. 

“So...Colm was not there.” He rubbed his beard and debated with Bill and Hosea what to do about Kieran. You decided to speak up. 

“Dutch, he was telling the truth. Colm was there, just not when we arrived. I...think Kieran should get a second chance.”

Dutch stared back at you incredulously. You had never spoken your mind so freely like this, and never in front of other members of the gang as a crowd. 

“Really. The campfire singer thinks we should keep an enemy within our walls. Is there no end to this madness?”

You flushed so hard you felt your ears turn red. How dare he reduce you to nothing more than an entertainer for the gang? Like some common whore. Instant regret flashed across his face and he moved to put his hand on your shoulder and apologize, but an old memory in your gut screamed you should move and you flinched hard as his hand neared you. He froze and drew it back slowly. 

“If that’s my role, then say it. I’ve been out hunting and fighting the past few weeks with no complaints from you. Kieran had good information, but we kept him tied up so long he didn’t know anything had changed,” you spat at the older man.

“It’s true, Dutch. I could have asked him sooner,” now Arthur was involved and you couldn’t bear to stay. You grabbed a cup of water for Kieran and stalked off, steam rolling down your shoulders from how Dutch treated you. 

He was going to hit you, you knew it. Your heart was pounding so hard you hands were shaking with every beat. Even the view of the valley didn’t calm your nerves, so you went to brush down Eclipse and steady yourself. It had been nearly three months now since you felt that familiar fear. One you had hoped stayed behind in Blackwater. 

“YN, you hiding over here?” Arthur called out as he neared the horse station. 

Rubbing tears from your eyes, you called back, “And what do you want?”

“Dutch is real sorry. He didn’t mean to sound like that.” Making you the fool in front of everyone? Of course he sent Arthur to make amends on his behalf. His son. Errand boy. 

“It’s fine. Don’t matter anyways, I know what I am. Just rattled from all of it,” Your hands were shaking so hard you dropped the brush, and Arthur bent to pick it up. “He would never hit you, you know,” he offered quietly, the brush loose in his hand. 

“Part of me knows that. Michah was...but that was earlier and Dutch...well, look at me now,” and you held out your own hand to show the reaction. He grabbed it and held tight, looking you dead in the eye. 

“Whatever happened in your past is gone. Ain’t no one going to hurt you here, that I can promise.”

Slowly as he rubbed circles into the back of your hand, you calmed down. Thinking a bit more rationally you understood Dutch had not been moving to hit you. Instinct had taken over, and you took a deep breath and decided to change the subject.

“So. Is Kieran staying?” Arthur nodded. “Long as he behaves himself, yes.” You sighed and leaned back against Eclipse for support. “Good. He’s a good kid. Mary-Beth keeps asking me my opinion on him, and she ain’t subtle.”

Arthur laughed softly and dropped your hand. “Look...YN I’m sorry the past while has been a rough go of it. Not usually like this, and Dutch says he has a plan...must be hard for a high society woman to be livin’ like this.”

“Society woman? Arthur, you know I was raised in Blackwater. Ain’t no more than a Valentine with a few paved roads. Stop treating my like I’m breakable and just treat me like a person.” He nodded, and stood with you silently. 

“Speaking of society women...how did things go with Mary? I heard you come back late last night.” Your curiosity had gotten the better of you and it was a topic with no attention on yourself. 

He looked startled but answered anyways. “She, uh, her brother...needed help. I rode out and found him with some weird folks. Brought him back into town. Wasn’t anything special.” While his speech was completely relaxed, his whole body had tensed up. He rubbed the back of his neck again, a nervous habit you noticed he did frequently. 

“That’s sweet of you. She seems…interesting?” The lack of effort you put into finding a better description was obvious but you couldn’t care less. She was of no importance to you. 

That got a full laugh from him. “Interesting. One way of putting it, that’s for sure. Glad you’re okay, but if you’ll excuse me, YN, I need to head into town and steal an oil wagon of all things.”

“By all means, Mr. Morgan. Don’t let me stand in your way.” He grumbled something about ‘Mr. Morgan’ and ‘every time’ but you didn’t quite catch it. He galloped away on his bay horse, leaving you with your thoughts and Eclipse, bothering you for a treat. 

The train robbery was a success. Sean, Arthur, John, and Charles stopped the train on its tracks to grab valuables from passengers heading to Saint Dennis on their way to some cruise. It was quick and easy with a big win for the gang. No one hurt, and no one recognized. 

Dutch was elated. “One more big score, boys, and we will be on our way! Just think about that fat paycheck taking us home to a new land! To freedom!” 

John was not happy that Sean somehow wiggled his way into his plan and tried to avoid him when he talked to Arthur about the next idea. He had heard wind of a herd of sheep being moved into Valentine from Emerald Ranch in two days time and thought it could be a big score.

“Abigail, just listen - ”

“No, John! This has to stop. Why can’t you ever listen to me and do what’s best for the boy? Why ain’t you happy?” Abigail cried at John. The two had been fighting nonstop since he returned from the train job and he was beginning to really get irritated. 

Sitting near the horse area, Jack decided to teach you how to braid flowers together. “See, YN? One over, then under, then over, then it’s pretty!” He laughed and clapped as you finished up your first one and set the chain around his neck. “Now you’re all pretty, Jack. A real prince!” He beamed, and looked up as Arthur approached. “Uncle Arthur! Look, I’m pretty!” 

Arthur laughed out loud and smiled down at the toddler. “Now, ain’t that a sight to see! Little Jackie Marston, all dolled up.” Jack bent down to get Arthur a chain, and the two of you smiled at one another. You loved looking after Jack. It was easy and simple. 

“Say, Jack. You wanna come fishing with me?” 

The little boy scrunched up his nose. “Fishing?

“Sure! It’s about time you started to earn your keep,” Jack stood and agreed. “You do have a fishing pole, don’t ya?” And Jack ran off to his mother’s tent to find his rod. 

“That’s sweet, taking the boy out. I know Abigail appreciates it,” thinking on how hard she worked you knew she loved being free for even an hour. 

Arthur rubbed his jaw. “Mostly do it cause I know his father won’t. Stupid fool. Kids gotta learn to do something more than run from his troubles.”

Jack came bounding back, pole in hand. “Let’s go, Uncle Arthur!” The two set off on Arthur’s black stallion and you continued to scrape around for the root Pearson had mentioned. Successful, you headed back to drop it off at his table. Not many people were up at this hour so you decided to watch Arthur and Jack downstream. 

They rode not too far away, and Jack pulled out his rod. An old wooden thing that Hosea had made him months ago, but did the job for a four year old learning how to fish. You saw Arthur teach him how to bait the line, cast into the stream, and reel it in once you felt a bite. Once or twice Jack almost hooked Arthur, and he definitely hooked the ground behind him, but he finally caught a fish. It was a sweet sight watching the two relax and forget about outlaw life for awhile. 

Two horses rode up and stopped not far from the pair as you watched. They dismounted and approached Arthur and Jack, and Arthur went completely defensive. Jack was pushed behind his legs while the three men talked, and the glint of metal shined when one of the strangers raised his gun and slung it over his shoulders. Their clothes were new, and from what you could barely make out finley pressed. One moved forward to shake Arthur’s hand, but was dropped when he didn’t reciprocate. He then removed his hat, and a balding head with black strands shone and a familiar panic began to settle at the back of your neck, cool and quick spreading. Arthur suddenly threw his fishing pole on the ground and the second man quickly pointed his barrel at his chest causing Jack to move stumble back from Arthur. They exchanged a few more words, then mounted their horses and left upriver, away from the camp. 

The pair couldn't have been at the river for more than an hour, but the stallion came pounding into camp harder and faster than ever before. Jack was swung down and met in Abigail’s arms. He handed her a necklace made of red flowers and braided in the way he had taught you earlier, beaming and talking about the one fish he managed to catch. 

Jack ran off with his pole, and Abigail finally looked back at Arthur. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing...just met some folk. I’d better go speak with Dutch.” She smiled and thanked him again, and you watched Arthur disappear into Dutch’s open tent. You were sitting at the main table stitching Lenny’s shit back up but you could hear their whole conversation. 

“We got a real problem, Dutch. I just met some guys out near the river. Employees of the Pinkerton Detective Agency, who know about the train, and they know we’re here.”

Dutch stood up quickly, “Were you followed back her?”

“No. They know we’re near here, and they want you Dutch. They offered me my freedom in exchange they did.” Dutch was walking out around camp now, listening to Arthur speak behind him. 

“Pinkertons, you said? Did you catch their names?”

“I did. A feller named, Ross and...Milton. Agent Ross, and Agent Milton.”

Head swirling, you dropped the needle from your hands. Milton? He followed you out here? You couldn’t believe of all the dumb, stupid things you’ve done, this had to take the cake. He must have known somehow that this is where you would end up. 

Idiot. Stupid, stupid girl. All trying to chase an elusive idea you still hadn’t fully created yet. 

Lenny came over to grab his shirt and made a comment that you couldn't hear, so you smiled and waved as he walked off. A rushing sound filled hour ears and made everything impossible and caused you to run far from the edge of camp. Finally alone, you let out the tension that had been building up inside of you.

“Dammit. God dammit!” You swung and hit a tree, ignoring the pain that flashed through your knuckles. No one was safe if they knew your secret, and these folks meant something to you. They had taken you in when you needed it, and you’ve worked your ass off to prove your worth to them. You wouldn't let that worthless, horrible, sack of shit steal it all away from you now. “Stupid! Piece! Of! Shit!” The pain in your knuckles was too strong to ignore now so you screamed as hard as you could, confident no one was nearby. 

“YN, are you okay? Jesus, let me see that hand.” Charles approached slowly after watching you punch a tree. 

“What are you doing out here? Following me?” He tilted his head at you. “No I was on patrol guarding the perimeter. What happened back there?” 

“Dutch was nearly found out. Some detectives found Arthur and Jack down by the river, and they’re looking for us.” A few deep breaths did nothing to calm your nerves, but you proceeded anyways. “Charles...if I tell you something, do you promise not to hate me?” The fear had subsided this far from camp but the anxiety still radiated through your veins. Everything in you screamed not to let this secret pass your lips. 

“No. But I can promise to listen.” This seemed to be the best offer, so you took a few more deep breaths to steady yourself. 

“That man...Agent Milton from the Pinkertons. The one who’s after Dutch? I...He’s my…” Finally you opened your eyes as you needed to see Charles’ reaction. “My last name ain’t Moore, Charles. It’s Milton. The detective who’s after the gang isn’t just another Pinkerton, he’s my father. And it seems that he is now here to bring this gang in or kill every last one of us.” Tears that had been building up finally spilled down your cheeks. 

The air hung heavy as your truth was finally free. Surely, he would hate you. Everyone would hate you. They would turn you in and run away as fast as they could. Charles. Pearson. John. Little Jack. Abigail. Dutch. Arthur.

Charles didn’t immediately speak but instead came forward slowly to examine your hand. 

“That’s...quite the cut you’ve given yourself there. Let me take a look.” Your eyes continued to water as the pain set in, but you extended your arm out for help. 

“Charles, that man is awful. I planned to escape everyday. I never thought…”

He nodded and listened to you speak, running an ointment over the open wound that somehow burned and felt cool at the same time. 

“I understand. We are not our parents. If we were, I would be a miserable drunk pining for a life I never really had. Still, I think it’s best we keep this quiet. I can’t see many minding but it could cause a real issue. Dutch is easily set off these days.”

As he finished bandaging your knuckles you nodded and smiled up at him. “Thank you, Charles. You’ve given me a lot the past few weeks.” 

He chuckled and turned the two of you back towards camp. “As long as you can still use that bow hand, I don’t mind much about the other stuff. You’re a good person, YN. And everyone here can see that. Just, don’t say anything about this yet. You head back first into camp and I’ll follow in soon. Make sure no Pinkertons trail you on the way.” You laughed nervously and started the walk back. It was almost dark and you didn't realize just how far you had run. 

The hike back was quiet and the only sound that accompanied you were bugs, singing a criss cross harmony that overlapped and swelled the longer you focused on it. You had the realization that you were alone for the first time in months. Sure, Charles would be along behind you shortly but no one was keeping tabs on your every move. 

Maybe this is what happiness felt like. 

It wasn’t the front porch light still on after dinner at your friends. It wasn’t the open bottle left sitting on the dining table, making Momma clean it up and wipe the spilling edges. It wasn’t the way your door creaked open at night. And it sure as hell wasn’t the feeling of balled fists meeting your ribs, or back, or anything that would be kicked or scratched and no one else could see. 

Damn that man and his awful, awful ways. 

Back at camp people were on edge. No one noticed you slip into the crowd to get dinner. Talking wasn’t a priority so you sat alone, terrified that pox marked face would creep in from the shadows. It didn’t, however, so after a fitful few hours you fell asleep, unknowingly it was your last night at Horseshoe Overlook.