#but I've seen the first one in one or two fics before (definitely [echoes of Messatine] but maybe a few others?? or canon??)

[transingthoseformers]

Say, post-shadowplay IDW Shockwave in the forced redemptipn arc au? I'm kind of curious how things might work out with his propably-physically-damaged brain.

I'm curious too because either the matrix is physically healing him, it's trying it's hardest to convince him to drag his aft to a medic to try and figure it out, or it's working with what it's got in an imperfect version of it's usual MO in this.

[ichokedonmyoreo]

Leash (Kuvira x reader)

Heyy this my first time posting a fic over here but I've found such a big community that I wanted to join in. This is a very quite interesting thing about Kuvira... God she's just SO hot.

K I'll probably write smthn about Abby but I take y time writing I'm so sorry 😭😭 (I haven't quite gotten a good glance at this one so if you spot any mistakes pls let me know) lyy hope you like it!

Mdni (+18)

Your upper limbs are being held tight above your head. Bone freezing metal is restraining your wrists against the wall, stretching your arms and back entirely. Your bare back erect on the marble wall, with your legs intertwined, one on the floor, the other above it, close to your chest while sitting on the ground.

She was merciful enough to just cuff your ankles and not restraint them entirely.

Your sight is being blinded by a soft fabric. The sound of firm boots approaching you made your heart beat faster, your skin arouse and your nipples respond at your exposure, completely naked for the general.

You could hear a second set of footsteps crashing against the wooden ground accompanied by a masculine voice, hidden only by a black folding screen. 'Pretty decoration for my office, just like you,' she used to say.

You couldn't help but hear the business talk. Kuvira not lowering her guard answering word by word what you had adviced her to, tho for a very different purpose than what she had told you. Her coldness sometimes amazed you; how could someone care so much yet be cruel with the consequences if proven against her.

You were feeling bored, even wanting to be amused. Being tied up like this for twenty minutes made someone want to entertain themselves. So, knowing damn well you'd be punished either way, you decide to rub yourself against your heel. Glorious feeling as your demanding core got it's friction.

You knew how much she loved to see you like this; for you to picture her while pleasuring yourself. How she loved seeing you struggle yet sending the discomfort away just for that friction, pathetically squirming.

The room was quiet enough for your panting breath to echo across the office. If the other person closing business with Kuvira hadn't heard before, he definitely heard the gasp that escaped your lips as you had hit the exact spot you were looking for. It's not like you had made it loudly... You just made it, non-intentionally loud enough for the echo of it to be noticed. You stopped abruptly, returning to your original position causing the chains to crash lightly.

Oh, you were fucked.

After a brief moment where you could hear fabric rub against itself. More specifically, a suit; you could hear an aggressive thud, probably a documentation stack to bring back the attention to her.

After useless chatting from the negotiator, the deal went off leaving Kuvira quite successful. As soon as the doors closed, you could hear her bend the metal off her uniform.

"You can't help but be a nosy pet, can you?"

"I'm glad it worked out," you chuckle barely able to do so because of how stretched your back was being held.

However, the laugh doesn't seem to rub on the general. One could say you could even hear her scoff at the words.

"Oh it seems like we heard two different conversations. Your little act almost cost us our place at Ba Sing Se. No. It could've cost me my title. My empire." Her footsteps approach near you and your heart beat faster. It was true; you had messed up.

Even if she enjoyed it, the fact that the guy had spot the existence of something odd happening in the room, even if he said nothing about it, even when he didn't have seen you, it was a fuck up.

"Do you understand how fucking stupid it was?" Her tone rose, a hint of anger on her tone.

"I do. I'm sorry, general."

"Good. Because you sure are going to wish you hadn't soon enough."

She takes the blindfold off your eyes, covering your face from direct light as they got adapted to the lighting. Once your gaze met hers, you could see her usual expression, an angry, a dominant gaze.

You heart was about to burst, nervous as you thought of what she could possibly do to you. Neither of you moved for five seconds.

When she decided to return to her proud stance, you relaxed. It only lasted a second before the metal holding your wrists pulled you up making you stand completely on your feet. A loud groan of pain filled the room as your sore muscles had been stretched even further.

"Oh, no. Whimpering won't get you out of this. No. -she took your face with her right hand, holding it tight for you to look at her- You should've thought about that before fucking yourself infront of strangers like the slut you are." The words were spat on your face, her nose touching your bridge while doing so, throwing your head back as she finished talking.

"You're too sore? -She tucked a hair string falling on your face behind your ear, tenderly- does it hurt being like this?" You nodded.

She gave a step back and looked at you almost with sympathy.

"Well... Maybe this will help"

Without moving any limb, you immediately felt how the metal around your wrists pulled you to the ground completely vowing on your knees before her.

"Mm... good girl. This is better isn't it?" She squatted, taking your chin to look at her.

"You understand now? Where you belong?" She said with a sadistic tone while moving your lose head for it to nod.

"Good pet" your face fell as she abandoned the grip, standing straight once more.

"Say you're sorry." You looked up at her gaze: imponent, tall, terrifying.

"I'm sorry, general" A pout matches your expression.

"Oh, for fuck's sake! -She pulled your hair- That's an apology? Think. -She lets go of her grip and sends you to the ground once more- Now say it like you mean it." She waited with a grin and crossed arms as she stopped bending the plates on your wrists.

"General, I am truly ashamed. I acted wrong. I should've never been as naughty as I was. I didn't respect your authority and I misbehaved. Please forgive me, daddy, please." You beg on your knees at the verge of tears holding your hands together as a prayer.

With a wicked smile, she takes your chin. "That wasn't hard, was it?" she says while petting your nose.

Your eyes, still watery, greet hers, dark with lust. 

"You do understand I must punish you. How am I supposed to know you won't do it again if you get out of here unharmed?"

You nod accepting the verdict hoping it'll help you soften your way out. You sit on your knees and watch as she sits down on her desk turning towards you.

"Come here. We don't have all day," the tone on her voice darkens, eagered for the punishment.

"Lie on my lap, ass free. If I catch you trying to get off of me, the punishment will become much much worse. Got it?" She explains as you place yourself ready for spanks.

Once settled, she begins to caress every inch of skin on your spine, softly, waking your skin at its pace. She then moved to your ass cheeks, toying with them as well, wrapping them gently to let them fall.

"Look at this precious little ass of yours. So tender, so pale... I think it's missing some color, don't you think?" She takes your hair, gently holding it so it won't disturb your sight. She savours every word anticipating the pleasure it'll grant her.

Even so, you cannot see what she's doing. You can only hear her metal bend. Her stillness makes you anxious. You know something's going to happen. You don't know when, how, nor with what object, size or shape.

As your head wonders, a flat, thin metal paddle slaps against your ass making you bounce on Kuvira's lap and a groan to abandon your lips.

The second it does, the general sends a metal plate to cover your mouth, hardly crashing on your face.

"No, no. Your lesson is to remain quiet. Good girls do not whimper, groan, moan or gasp when daddy's speaking. Understood?" Another hard spank hits you. A muffled groan echoing in the room.

"Look at these beautiful cheeks. Already red at their second spank. - She hits you again, this time harder causing you to grunt with tears already leaving your eyes. - They're about to bleed -She kisses your lower back- All you got to say for these to stop, is to make no sound.

She gently massages your cheeks, giving them air to recover. You had just started to feel better when another spank hit you. You tried so hard to hold back a whimper but you were already sobbing by this point.

"Sh, sh, I'm sorry, baby, but this is the only way. -She sets the paddle on your ass cheeks, this time for the coldness of it to help with the pain- I know you can do it, okay, baby? You can do this," She kisses your head as the last spank hited you. It twisted your heart and burnt your skin. Your muscles tense as the pain ran through your body; pleasure soon replacing the burn. You take deep heavy breaths and manage to keep quiet with a burning chest.

Kuvira gently helps you get off the position and sits you on her lap allowing a tight embrace. "That's it. You did such a good job. You're such a good girl. Such a good girl," she tucked your hair away and gently kissed your tears away before kissing your lips softly, an apologize speaking throughout them. The right embrace helping you settle down with a warm touch.

"Good, good, girl -She kissed you deeply this time.- You deserve a prize for being such an obedient little toy, don't you?" Her kisses begin to trail down your neck, your skin ached in pleasure as she did.

"I'll start by letting you be as loud as you need to, how does that sound baby?" She purposefully licks before sucking on your neck causing you to moan and her to devilishly smirk.

"I love to hear you, don't you forget that." She kisses this time hungrily, with passion. She licks your lips for entrance, becoming even more lustful as she breaks it, biting your lower lip.

"What do you want your price to be? Hm?" She asks caressing your cheek.

You come close to her kissing your way to her jaw, lowering and licking your way to her cleavage. Beautiful grunts abandoning her breath. Your head moves upwards to whisper, brushing your lips against her earlobe while doing so, making sure you showed how bad wanted it.

"I want you to fuck me good, daddy."

That phrase was enough to change the mood again. Your heart beats faster as the general takes off her uniform, still on her lap with your legs around her waist.

She begins undoing the neck, then following the buttons. You knew she liked to pull a show, looking straight into your eyes as she was getting ready for what would follow. You let go of the embrace, looking pleased at the performance as you grind against her thigh. Slowly. Following the pace of her fingers exposing her chest and abdomen for you.

She leaned her arms backwards, the fabric slipping from her shoulders to the wooden desk.

She looks at you, inviting with her gaze to get closer. You balance your weight forward once more, your foreheads leaning against each other, feeling your breaths crash in warmth. Her hand traveled from your bare lower back to right between your shoulder blades.

"You'll have to get off me to get this done, love" she says with a soft chuckle as her thumb caresses your skin.

You chuckled in response, taking your legs to work again, standing right infront of Kuvira.

The sight merely astonishing in the scarce light.

With a smirk, you took her knees setting them apart opening up a gap for you to slide in. Once your hips are right infront of hers, you take her legs around your hip and approach her, sliding your hand from her jawline till you cupped her head, reaching for a heated kiss.

Your free hand trailed from her waist to her covered breasts, teasing, waking the skin underneath your touch. Sighs and whimpers slipping from your lips. Her touch woke even more hunger in you as she grabbed your ass cheeks, pressing your hips together.

The tease became too overwhelming to bare, making you unclasp her bra, setting it aside. As soon as the fabric hit the laminated floor, your hands were already taking her breasts, holding them, feeling them fill every inch of your palms; how her nipples hardened at the contact making you so much more needed to please her. Your thumb begins to brush the bud as your lips keep smoothing around hers with saliva strings already filling your chin with drool; cleaned and messed out again and again by Kuvira's mouth.

Almost simultaneously, her lips trailed down your neck, right below your jawline, right where she knew you loved her at. Only able to whimper and melt at her touch as your breasts and hips grinded together, sometimes bumping with your working hands. Your neck completely forgotten as you slowly let your head hang loosely backwards granting more working areas to the general's mouth.

As heavy sighs filled the room, you can feel Kuvira's nose sliding on your neck following your pulse line before nibbling your neck, sucking carelessly, claiming what is hers.

"Ah~ God, Vira..."

Your core wet and lips anxious as you allow her more play time before slowly pulling away with an apologetic yet teasing smirk as you dropped to your knees, sliding your fingers on her trousers waistband. Once fully kneeled, you undid her belt. Kuvira knew how much you enjoyed the excitement, the noise, the implication of doing so yourself as it unbuckled. The general herself, bending it away as soon as your fingers let go of the buckle with an impassive gaze; one so many have feared yet one that made your heart skip a bit and your legs waver.

She unzipped them herself, your hands already on place to pull them down, taking her underwear as well, a bit desperate yourself as you made sure they came completely off before beginning to worship her legs, caressing her calves before placing them over your shoulders. Wet kisses decorating your way to her center as your hands slide to her hips.

Taking your time, sucking on the denser skin as you got closer and closer. Once you were so close, your breath send shivers to the general as she stroked your head, sliding her fingers combing your hair while doing so. 

With a smirk, you began to kiss the hot skin around the pubic area, teasing for as long as you could, giving up under a minute as your lips kissed over hers to make your way to her core. Regardless, you look up, asking for permission before starting.

The moment her gaze matched yours, with a broad lick, you savour her slit coating your tongue with her slick as you do so.

You feast on her, drunk on the feeling as your tongue ravishes on her as much as it can, enjoying pacing around, sliding and teasing her entrance accompanied by beautiful sighs turn into held back moans.

You sat right beside her and leaning your head on her shoulder. In two seconds, her hand was holding you in place, tenderly as her breathing went back to normal.

"It was great," she said with an airy breath.

You stay like that for a while, holding each other. Not quite saying something but feeling everything. She carefully took her hand from your head and you sat straight as she stood up.

"You were such a good girl" she comes closer raising your chin.

"But I think we need to reinforce what we learned today," she walks toward the drawers, pulling out a dildo-less strap-on. She put it on as a daily ritual, easy, instinctively.

"On your knees."

Immediately, your knees hit the ground. The only thing you cared about was her.

"So pretty for me." She fixed your hair, caressing your cheek while doing so.

Quietly, the dildo was assembled from metal, standing attached to her, ready for you. As soon as you see it, you know what to do.

You tease the tip kissing it softly, sucking a bit while your eyes are set right in hers. You put on a show. Your tongue sliding and letting it flop out of your muscle.

"That's right, suck on daddy's cock."

You began to take it with your whole mouth, just the half, hitting your gag reflex. Brows knit together, you look at Kuvira.

"Shh shh. No noise." She caresses your cheek, encouraging for you to take the dildo deeper. Slowly, making sure you could breathe, you take it all the way in until your lips meet her skin.

Her hands switch position, holding you in place by pushing your head closer. You made your best to keep your throat open.

"You can't quite speak with daddy's cock on your mouth can you?"

You shake your head.

"You'll teach me how you can use that pretty mouth of yours for something helpful." She pushes the dildo even deeper in your throat before pushing your head away.

A deep scream for air filled your system with oxygen again. Drooling all the way to your belly. You look up searching for the general's look. You feel dirty. You feel ashamed. You feel treasured, you feel seen.

She gives you a smirk and you bite your lip, resuming your position, begining to suck not as deep but rather quicker. Hollow sounds filling the room with ocasional gags here and there.

"Such a beautiful slut for me." She pushes you deeper on the dildo causing you to loudly gag.

A final deep-throat suck, licking the last bit with drool falling to the ground. She takes your face on a tight grip with her right hand causing all of it to slide down your neck and chest, coating you on a shinny glace.

"Look at you. My pathetic little whore," She chuckles tracing your lips with her thumb. You immediately suck on it and she laughs.

A pure sadistic laugh. You loved watching her on your knees. So beautiful standing in glory.

"Whatever I'll do to you..." she looks directly at your eyes before letting go of you. "Turn around."

With you back facing Kuvira, you could just listen to her kneeling. Her hand ran its way from your lower back all the way to your shoulder. She leaned closer, her breath warm on your nape waking your skin as she kissed all the way to you shoulder and right under your jaw.

"I want you so fucking bad." Her arms wrapped around you nearly suffocating you before completely abandoning you by throwing your weight to the ground. Fast enough, you placed your hands before you.

"You want me to fill you up, baby?" She slapped your cheeks making them ache and your cunt to clench.

"Please, daddy," you pressed your chest to the ground and turned your head sideways, raising your ass even more for her to fuck.

Kuvira teased your entrance with the tip, still wet with your spit. Her hands squeezed your cheeks before running their way on your back.

"Arms up."

You raised your arms so the general could hold them in place. The discomfort was mild but, oh did you enjoyed it.

"Such a good girl..." Her free hand guided the dildo to your entrance, easily slipping in. Slowly but steady, Kuvira pressed each time deeper and deeper until you had taken it all in. Between gasps, your walls adjusted to the toy.

Kuvira smirked as she felt you had loosen up, moving her hand right on your hips. Her thumbs perfectly placed on your venus dimples, "perfectly made for me to fuck you."

[mandos-mind-trick]

Lost Time

Summary: Two years. Your soulmate has been missing for two years. After exhausting all your resources to look for him, you get a message from an old friend asking for help. Little do you know what's waiting for you when you arrive.

Pairing: Captain Gregor x reader

Warnings: NSFW, smut, unprotected sex, Gregor is a boob guy, mention of a brain injury, Gregor's past, major angst and feels, Soulmate AU

A/N: I know I said Echo was up next, but this one just came upon me out of nowhere. I've never written for Gregor before, and I've never really read much fic for him so I'm sorry if this is absolute trash. It's the shortest out of all of them so far cause I definitely don't feel confident in this. I gave it my best shot, and I hope it's at least palatable.

MASTERLIST

It’s been two years. Two long years since you’ve seen your soulmate. You remember sneaking into the supply closet, clinging onto him as he kissed you goodbye before he left for another battle. 

If you had known that was the last time you’d see him, you would have held on longer. 

The battle was one of the worst. You remember the defeat, the far too few troopers returning to the ship. You were kept busy, treating and aiding the battered troopers. You hadn’t noticed until later, when Coil had pulled you aside with the pity filled look in his eyes. You’ll never forget that look. 

MIA. That was his official status. You know he’s not dead. You would know if he was, you would have felt it. There would be no hiding it. Besides, he had too many life points left when he’d walked away from you. 

He’s not dead. 

He’s missing. 

You leave the army not long after. 

They hadn’t even tried searching. You were slave to your duties, to hiding your connection, but it was driving you insane. They cared so little for the people laying down their lives for them every day. They won’t extend any searches, not wanting to risk staying in the area any more than they have to. They had lost the battle, and you had lost your soulmate. 

You left the army, instead focusing your efforts on trying to find him. He had made it to a ship, but then he could have wound up anywhere. You exhausted every resource you had, spending every last dime you could afford trying to locate him. 

You fail. 

It’s like he vanished. 

You know he’s still out there. You can feel it. He wouldn’t leave you like that. 

Then the war ended. You knew something wasn’t right, things were happening that shouldn’t be. You didn’t trust the Empire, and so you had gone underground, trying to avoid them as much as possible. Your hunt for Gregor was over. There was no way you were going to find him now. 

All you can do is trust that you’re going to cross paths again. Fate wouldn’t be that cruel, would it? 

You stare at the number on your wrist in the dim light of your makeshift shelter. Life points, they were called, or a tracker of how many years you have left to live. You hadn’t known Gregor was your soulmate until you’d touched him for the first time, even though you both shared the same type of mark. His points had been lower than yours, significantly lower. 

Despite your insistence, he hadn’t let you give him more points. It was possible to give points to your soulmate, shortening your life to lengthen theirs. You didn’t want to outlive Gregor, but he had refused to shorten your life for him. You knew he wouldn’t die in the war. He had too many years left. But the thought of living without him was too much. You didn’t want to outlive him, no matter how he died. 

Your sweet, loyal Captain, out there somewhere. You wonder what happened to him, why you haven’t been able to find him. You wonder if he’s been looking for you, if by some sick chance you’ve been missing each other. Had he made it back to the GAR expecting you to be there? Had you made a mistake in leaving? 

The doubts plagued your mind as the months passed without a sign of him. You’re determined fate won’t keep you apart, but still, you can’t help but question it in the dark of night as your thoughts run rampant. 

“You think too much, cyare.” He’d said, playfully poking the wrinkle on your forehead. You had been lost in thought, curled up in his bunk with him during one of their brief shore leaves. 

“I just worry.” You’d said, every mission he left on, every battle he fought in making your mind wander with thoughts of all the horrible things that could happen to him. 

“Don’t worry about me.” He’d tried to console you, wrapping his arms tighter around you. 

You can still feel him, even two years later. The rasp of his voice, the smell of him, the feel of his arms wrapped around you. You’ll never forget. Your mind, your body, your very soul yearns to have him again, to hold him, to kiss him, to feel his skin against yours just once more. 

What you would give to make that happen. 

***

You're shocked when Rex contacts you. You knew Rex from the few times you'd worked with the 501st. Gregor knew Rex too, and had only the highest praise for his fellow Captain. 

You haven't heard from Rex since you defected. You haven't heard from anyone since then. That wasn't exactly the smartest move, especially if Gregor had somehow returned to the army. Burning those bridges probably wasn't the best, but you could be arrested for desertion if the wrong person knew how to find you. That would have put both you and Gregor in danger. 

You're not sure exactly how Rex got ahold of you, but you replay his comm message over and over. It's hardly more than a location and a request for assistance. It could be a trap. Anyone or anything could be waiting for you there. 

Or it could be someone.

You decide to go. If nothing else, perhaps Rex could help you rekindle your search. Or, maybe he already knew where to find Gregor. 

You make for the location, your heart pounding in your chest. You feel sick with nerves, hands shaking as you land your piece of junk near the location. You steady your nerves, tucking your blaster into the back of your pants before you leave the ship. 

Almost immediately you're greeted by two troopers with blasters. Is this it? Has the Empire caught up to you? You're not sure what they would want from you, except maybe to uphold punishment for deserting the Republic's Army. Or perhaps your reluctance to register in their system. 

"What is your business here?" One of the troopers asks. They're not dressed like the troopers you've seen in passing. Their armor is worn and painted still. 

You state your name, lifting your hands in surrender. "Rex sent for me." 

They share a look before lowering their blasters, the one that had spoken motioning for you to follow with his head. You follow them through the trees, down the path towards what looks like an abandoned building. It’s not abandoned, though, many troopers mulling about inside and out. 

You’re led inside, Captain Rex approaching you. You remember him well, even if he looks a bit older, and more tired than the last time you’d seen him. You can only imagine how hard everything has been on him. 

“Captain.” You say, greeting him. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you.” 

“Thank you for coming.” Rex says. “I didn’t know if you would.” 

“You said you need my help?” You frown a bit, not sure what you can offer that he probably doesn’t have already. 

“Well, that’s only partially true.” He says. “I actually have a surprise.” 

Your frown deepens as you stare at him. A surprise? What kind of surprise could he have? 

“Hello, doll.” 

Your body stiffens, breath catching in your throat. You stare at Rex wide eyed, a small smile forming on his face. Had you imagined it? Had you misheard something meant for someone else? You should turn, you should look. You’re too scared to move, too scared he’s not going to be there, that it’s all in your head. 

Rex gives you a small nod, reassuring you as you begin to turn. Slowly, inch by inch you turn, half expecting nothing to be there. 

It’s him. You know just by staring at him. Tears gather in your eyes as you look him over. He’s a bit thinner than you remember, but he’s no less defined. There’s dark circles under his eyes, wrinkles popping around his eyes as a smile tugs at his lips. He looks as much tired as he does relieved. 

“Gregor?” You whisper, still trying to convince your brain this isn’t some dream, this isn’t some trick. 

“It’s me.” He says, running a hand over his hair. He lets out a nervous giggle, eyes dropping to the floor. “It’s really me.” 

He sounds different. His usual husky rasp is gone, his voice pitched higher than it had been before. A small frown pinches between your brows. What happened to him? 

“You’re thinking too much, cyare.” He says, holding out a hand. 

Your hand is shaking as you reach for him, tears blurring your vision. You’re pulled forward, body collapsing into his. He squishes you tight against his chest, your face pressing into his neck. He smells the same, just as you remember. Your legs wobble, nearly giving out as you cling to him. He holds you, his armor digging into your skin but you don’t care. It’s just another reminder he’s real. 

“I looked for you for two years.” You sniffle, pulling back just slightly to look up at his face. “What happened to you?” 

“It’s, uh, it’s a long story.” He says, letting out another giggle. 

***

You’re coiled around him like a snake. 

You’ve barely let go of him since your reunion, afraid he might disappear if you let go too long. You’re laying in a makeshift room on the base, stretched out on the cot together. It’s barely big enough for him, much less the two of you, but you don’t care. You don’t expect to be going far from him for a while. 

He’s told you everything. What happened during the battle of Sarrish, crash landing on Abafar, his amnesia, the droids, the explosion, finding his way back to the Republic, signing up to train the new troopers, and then defecting and being imprisoned, then rescued, then brought here. 

“I looked for you.” He says, hands trailing along your side. “Coil said you’d defected.” 

“I was looking for you.” You say, curling a hand in his blacks. He’d ditched his armor, stacking it in a pile near the door. “I should have just stayed.” You say, shaking your head. “We could have been together sooner.” 

“Don’t.” He frowns, tracing your lips with his thumb. “There’s no guarantee we would have seen each other then, either. I’m just glad you’re safe.” 

“I think I’m supposed to be the one saying that.” You say, leaning in closer to his face. 

“I think you’re saying too much right now.” He murmurs, his hand sliding down to your thigh to tug you further on top of him. 

You close the distance, pressing your lips to his. They’re slightly chapped, but they’re still just as you remember them being. 

He pulls away, letting out another giggle. He squeezes his eyes closed, a frown forming on his face. “Sorry.” 

You press yourself up so you’re seated over him, looking down at him. A brain injury, you think, your medical training coming back to you. You cup his cheek, tracing his soft skin. “Don’t.” His eyes meet yours, lips parting as he stares up at you. “I know you can’t control it.” 

“I know I-I’m not-” 

You shush him, lowering yourself so you’re face to face again. “You’re here.” You peck his lips softly. “That’s what matters to me.” 

His hands grip your hips, holding you against him as his nose brushes yours. “What did I do to deserve you?” 

“I think it was that cheesy pickup line the first time we met.” 

He snorts, kissing you softly. “I didn’t think it would work.” 

“Well,” You kiss him again. “Here we are.” 

He stares up at you, his gaze darkening a bit. You can feel him getting hard against your thigh. “Here we are.” 

“You must have really missed me.” You murmur. 

“You have no idea.” He says, cupping the back of your head to pull you into a kiss. 

This kiss feels different than the ones you’d shared before. The desperation, the urgency, the longing. Two years apart, two years with no idea when you’d see each other again. It’s too long, far too long to be apart after forming your bond. You need him, you need all of him, and judging from the bulge pressing against your thigh, he feels the same. 

His hands slip under your shirt, rough fingers trailing along your spine. You shiver under his touch, a fire lighting under your skin. You shift so you’re straddling him, grinding against his bulge in desperation for any sort of friction you can get. He groans against your lips, tugging at your shirt.

You pull away long enough to strip out of your shirt and breastband, his hands immediately reaching for your breasts. You roll your eyes with a smile, leaning down again. He tugs you closer, your body falling against him so his face is buried between your breasts. 

“Gregor.” You say exasperatedly, but you don’t move, letting him lay there for a moment. 

“Sorry, doll.” He says, voice muffled by your breasts. “I missed these beautiful tits.” 

“It’s okay.” You run your hand over his head. “Take your time.” 

He wraps his arms around your back, squishing you tight against his face. You’re worried he might smother himself, but you know if he’s going to die, this would not be the worst way he could go out. 

For a moment you think he might be asleep, but he releases you, letting you push yourself back up. His hands close around your breasts, thumbs flicking over your nipples. You bite your lip, staring down at him as he’s transfixed by your breasts. He was always obsessed with your breasts, his favorite body part of yours he’d told you once. 

“Maker, I could stare at these all day.” He says, squeezing them gently. 

“Well, fuck me first, then you can stare all you’d like.” 

His eyes snap up to yours, his gaze darkening a bit. “Deal.” He says, releasing your breasts so he can sit up. 

You tug his shirt over his head, trailing your fingers along his skin. You trace scars, new and old, every divot of his skin. His hands work on undoing your pants, and you sit back to help him tug them off. You push him onto his back, tugging his pants down his hips and over his thick thighs. He’s hard and leaking already, your hand closing around his length.

Oh how you’ve missed him. 

You jerk his length a couple times, your own folds already slick and ready for him. You move yourself on top of him, lining him up before lowering yourself onto him. You sigh at the stretch, working your way slowly down his length. His hands rest on your thighs, holding onto you as he watches you. 

You feel alive again, the tension leaving your body as you reconnect with him after so long. The distance you’d suffered is washing away, the bond between you strengthening once more. 

“Feel so good, doll.” He groans, hands sliding up your thighs to grip at your hips. 

“Missed you.” You breathe, bracing yourself on his stomach. “Missed you so much.” 

“No idea how much I missed you.” He groans as you begin to move, rocking yourself on his cock. 

You curse quietly, extending your movements until you’re bouncing on his cock. He watches you, eyes focused on your body as you fuck yourself on him. He loves watching you, loves letting you take your pleasure from him. He wished you’d had more chances before. Having to keep his distance while simultaneously so close to him was torture. 

He doesn’t have to worry about that now. You two can be together without having to fear any repercussions. No one’s going to tear you apart now. 

He pulls your body down against his, wrapping his arms around your back to hold you as he lifts his hips, beginning to thrust into you. You let out the most beautiful noises as he fucks you, your fingers digging into his shoulders. He grunts at the bite of your nails, but he doesn’t stop, wanting to feel you cum around him. 

“So good,” He groans. “So good for me, mesh’la.” 

“Gregor!” You cry, your clit dragging against his pelvis with every thrust. “I’m gonna cum!” 

“Cum for me.” He moans, breath panting against your ear. “Wanna feel you.” 

You shake as you cum, spasming around him. His own hips stutter, the tightness of your walls milking his own orgasm from him. He groans loudly, stilling as he spills inside you. You let out breathy little moans at the feeling, going limp against him. 

He strokes your skin, staying still under you. He had missed you so kriffing much. He had been determined to find you, determined to track you down, even if he had to scour the entire galaxy. He had been elated when Rex told him he’d already contacted you before he’d picked him up from Ord Mantell. 

“Gregor,” You breathe his name, your warm breath fanning across his chest. 

He sits up, holding you in his lap. “Yes, doll?” 

You shift just slightly, hand closing around his bicep. “I love you.” 

He kisses your forehead, the skin damp with sweat. “I love you too.” 

His muscles tense when he feels a tickling sensation on his wrist. He lifts his warm, watching as the number on his wrist changes, increasing significantly. He grips your arms, pulling away from you slightly. 

“What did you do?” He asks, grabbing your arm to stare at the number on your skin. 

The numbers are the same now, still far more than he’d had before. 

“I can’t live without you.” You say, blinking teary eyes up at him. “I don’t want to.” 

“Doll...” He says, staring at the two numbers. He never wanted you to give up time for him. He didn’t think he was worth it. 

You cup the back of his neck, drawing his gaze back to yours. “I wanted to do it. I lived two years without you. I don’t want to spend any more time apart.” 

He blinks at you, tears filling his eyes. He pulls you tight against his chest, pressing his lips to yours. “I don’t deserve you.” He murmurs against your lips. 

“You do.” You say, kissing all over his face. “You deserve this and so much more.” 

He holds onto you, flipping you on the small cot so you’re on your back, his body resting on top of you. He presses his face back against your breasts, resting there. “You promised.” 

You can’t help but laugh, letting your fingers trail over his face. “I did. I did promise.” 

Taglist:

@stressed-cherry @6oceansofmoons  @ladytano420 @spicy-clones @kaminocasey @dangraccoon @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013 @stunkbiggu @endofthexline @padawancat97 @rosechi @arctrooper69

[morning-sun-brah]

Here's few ideas (typing aggressively on my phone):

- Mafia AU where Leo (40s or 50s) is the boss while reader (30 or 40s or any age you want to put) is the secretary while begin a huge simp of their boss Leo.

- Rockstar AU: Reader begin a pop star, idol or a singer who isn't in the rock genre but they and Leo are doing a collab or singing battle against each other (Leo vs reader the winner is the one who's getting votes from the audience online).

- tactical AU as reader is a doctor who's working on making a kraang virus cure and F!Leo is protecting them because his teammate and family passed away because of this virus.

- F!Leo begin reader's neighbor and started living in the apartment next door after a nasty divorce. Reader could be a single mother who's pregnant with her child. The two are growing from neighbors to friends to slowly falling for each other (something wholesome and fluff as it comfort and healing from previous wounds).

*drop on my knees/hj* i hope you like them master/hj

I might be under the weather, but I have this in my back pocket...

So, once upon a time, @starrcrossrose and I worked on a Mafia AU (so if you like this, make sure you throw a thank you at her head like a grenade). I have... quite a few more snippets I can share of these two- if anyone is interested, and I am not opposed to writing the occasional ask for this if it fits into the story (i.e.; Leo goes into the bank and x-y-z happens).

Also, @snipersiniora; THANK YOU FOR THE ASK AND THE PROMPTS. I'm keeping them all and I'll eyeball some of the other ones for ~later~. That said, the end game for this is exactly what your prompt was- the OC absolutely is supposed to end up as Leon's secretary/assistant.

Eventual smut, as an fyi, but nothing here other than set up. MINORS DNI, though! This is going to be shared in parts, and it will (eventually) be explicit. I should know, I've heard about a specific scene I've shared from the smut for ages, from friends who have seen it. (as an aside- I realize that Vivian is Julie coded, and that I've also used the name Vivian in a different fic. Shhhh....)

Gonna try out this whole sharing a fic on tumblr jazz. Definitely not nervous about it haha (a lie).

MAFIA AU UNDER THE CUT.

Summary; Leon has been in charge for a while now. Over a decade, actually. He's not really the same person anymore, not to the public and certainly not at a glance. He's... more. A mythos, almost. He's given a wide berth, talked about in hushed voices, and regarded with a healthy mix of fear and respect.

Too bad Vivian doesn't know who the fuck he is.

Marked mature for eventual smut. Ongoing. Leon x OC. OC uses she/her pronouns. Bank teller OC, Mafia Boss Leon. Aged up Ninja Turtles (an in, in their late 30's/pushing 40). Some violence and questionable activity on Leo's part. Where do you find your ride-or-die? In the bank, obviously. Don't like, don't read, you know the song and dance.

Next>

“I can help you, big guy.” 

To say Leon hadn’t already noticed her would be a lie. The pale blonde of her hair, down and straightened with a few frayed ends. The big white smile she kept painted on her face. The way her laughter carried through the high walls of the bank and echoed throughout. When he’d gotten close enough in the line- refusing to cut even when it was offered (and it was offered more than once)- he’d heard the way she spoke to each individual person. It was different with each new customer. Sometimes she was calm and to the point- talking quickly and keeping conversations short with patrons who clearly had further things to do and no interest in chatting. With others, it was casual and teasing, repeat customers or someone who she’d decided she could easily chat with, who would be comfortable with mild silliness.

At first, Leon had waited there in line annoyed, grouchy, and exhausted. He’d had a long night of strategizing with Donatello, and he’d only gotten a few hours of sleep on his office couch before peeling open his eyes and crawling to the bathroom to freshen up. He’d changed into one of his spare suites, glaring at his prosthetic arm and deciding it was a weight he didn’t want to carry today (and never mind that Donnie had started nagging him to wear it more often). 

By eight am he was ready for a pot of coffee and a day of phone calls. But there had been no coffee in the pot at reception, and there had been no receptionist, either. 

One glance at his phone told him why- and he’d answered the call (he’d missed six others) with a groan of irritation.

“Robert’s in the hospital!”  

His secretary, Betty, had half sobbed the words, the fifty-something-year-old woman in a panic because her eighty-something-year-old husband had collapsed in the middle of coitus (which- Leon had always thought was the point of Betty marrying an older man- but her worry over the phone made him wonder if she actually cared for the geriatric she called her husband. That, or his last will in testament hadn’t been settled). 

Leon had told her not to worry, to take as much time as she needed. He’d also promised to complete her errands himself- insisting on it even when she offered to send her nephew in her stead. Leo had scoffed; the last thing he wanted was Betty’s nephew in his office, sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. Instead, he’d made a list, listening to Betty as she rattled off everything that needed to be done before five. 

It was errands. How hard could errands be?

The morning had been a shitshow. 

The dry cleaners just down the street had misplaced two of his suits, and the owner had kept him much too long to apologize- nearly in tears even after Leon had insisted it was fine (it wasn’t- those were tailored Armani suits and he needed them back, goddamnit). Then he’d rescheduled all his appointments for the day- which was a hard thing to do when the person you don’t want to talk to was the one you were calling. Most of the calls had devolved into business, no matter how hard he tried to insist he didn’t have the time, and Leon had ended up just texting the last three and hoping that it wouldn’t reflect poorly on his business- unable to tolerate another voice saying “hey, while I have you on the phone,” and keeping his ear longer than he wanted. 

Still no coffee, and it had been nearing ten in the morning. 

Leon had nabbed his driver, Otto, from where he lounged in the lobby- snapping his fingers as he stalked passed and hearing the younger man scramble to get to the car before him. He’d slipped into the back of the black Rolls Royce and ignored his stomach when it growled loudly, resolved to get the last of the tasks off his list by noon- and when it was all done he was going to treat himself to a Ruben the size of his face and a bottle of whiskey. 

They’d gone to Queens to drop off a delivery, and again he’d been held up by the owner of the laundromat- who had nearly pissed himself when Leon walked in. Leon never walked in. Not unless there was a problem.

By early afternoon the list was only a third of the way to being completed, and he still hadn’t had coffee.

So he waited in line at the bank, the Royce and young Otto idling at the curb- right in front of a fire hydrant, too, because there wasn’t a cop on patrol who didn’t know to keep moving. Depositing a check shouldn’t be overly hard… Though, the last time he’d done it was in his early twenties. He didn’t think it was customary to actually head into the bank and do it in person anymore. In fact, he was sure he’d seen a commercial or two, when he had time for television, that exalted the benefits of snapping a picture and having it all done within a few moments. 

If that was the case, though, Betty was the one who knew how to do it. She ran his life, practically, and with her husband in the hospital she wasn’t in any situation to explain it to him. Certainly he wasn’t going to call her. 

“Hey, Bett’s. I know your old man is in critical condition, but mind explaining how this shit works? Thanks, Doll.”

He might be an asshole- but he wasn’t a monster. … Depending on who you asked, anyway. 

So he’d been annoyed, standing head over shoulders taller than any human in the bank and ignoring the wide berth he was given, jaw ticking as the line sluggishly moved along, half tempted to take up the offers to cut the line and be done with it. But she’d caught his eye, and with nothing better to do he’d just watched her, watched the way she spoke, the way she moved. Took in the loose cotton of her sage green top that stretched over an ample chest, the glint of gold in her jewelry- large hoops that swayed in her ears and chunky rings on every other finger. The way her eyes hardly left her computer screen as her fingers flew over the keyboard. The way her lips would occasionally wrap around the lid of a paper coffee cup that was stained mauve from her lipstick. 

Fall colors, Mikey had taught him. She was wearing fall colors. He wondered if she matched everything to the season. He wondered how high-maintenance she was, how fussy. He wondered how long she’d spent in the bathroom before she came to work, how carefully she’d painted her face. 

Not that he was complaining. 

Maybe other men weren’t into the look she presented. Certainly, she wore makeup, dyed her hair, and wore a shirt a little too revealing. He could already tell she was loud, with the way her voice carried through the bank, could tell that she’d have no qualms reading someone to filth if they were rude to her. But Leo was already half-smitten with her, even before she called him “big guy.” 

That had just sealed the deal, honestly. That, and every single word that had left her mouth from then on. 

He walked to her raised counter, her greeting lingering in the air. The woman who stood behind Leon in line sucked in a sharp breath at the address, as though she were steeling herself for an onslaught of profanity, maybe even violence. Which made sense, really. People knew Leon. He had a reputation. Casualness was a no-no. Calling him anything other than ‘Sir,’ or ‘Mr. Hamato’ was a good way to find yourself in trouble. Maybe Leon should be offended that he instilled such fear, such caution, but as it had been that way for over a decade, he decided that he still enjoyed the reaction- no matter what it said about him. But the teller didn’t know him, didn’t recognize him, and all at once he knew he wasn’t going to correct her. 

“Whatcha got for me?” The blonde asked, pushing her large framed glasses up the bridge of her nose. It gave her a slutty librarian look, Leo would later think- not bothering to feel bad about the assessment. 

He peered at her name tag. “Hello, Vivian.”

For a moment, her eyes held confusion, then she blew out a loud, punctuated breath. 

“I forget I have this thing on, half the time,” she expelled, a high little laugh on her lips and her hand on her chest, fingers fiddling with the plastic pin. “I was about to ask how the hell you knew my name.”

Leon shook his head, a little tsking sound on his lips as though to assure he wasn’t some derelict. “Need to deposit a check.” 

“Well, let's see the deposit slip. Come on, come on,” she rushed, grinning at him so wide he wondered if her cheeks hurt. He skated the slip across the laminate counter, which he’d filled out when he first entered the bank, all hunched over and muttering in irritation (something that was lost in the wind, now). The check he kept in his palm, understanding directions when he was given them, holding onto it until she asked for its production. 

“You new to New York?” he asked, leaning against the counter and watching her as she glanced at the slip he’d slid to her, her hands folded one on top of the other as she peered down at it.  

“What gave it away?”

“Your accent is very neutral.” 

“Is it? I guess it would be. You sound like you’ve lived here all your life.”

Leon gave an easy smile. “Midwest?” 

“Oh lord, are you a cop?”

“Hmm, not quite.” 

“Well, you got it right. Dead center of the Midwest. Iowa.” 

She still hadn’t picked up the bank slip, just eyed it with an arched brow, and she gave him an assessing gaze before asking, “How often do you make deposits, big man?”

God, he liked that. It fed his ego just the right way, having some pretty bank teller with long lashes and big doe-eyes calling him big man, big guy. Leon cocked his head to the side a bit, ignoring the little thrill that shot through him. “Why?” 

“I’m just wondering how much shit I need to give you for filling out a withdrawal slip, instead of a deposit.”

Leo bared his teeth in an apologetic cringe. “My secretary usually handles this,” he explained, nose all scrunched at the excuse. He sounded like an asshole, maybe, using the words my secretary, like he was incapable of doing anything on his own- coddled and babied.   

She cut him a look, glancing at him quickly as though to gauge his expression, his apology. Then her lips tipped into a paltry smile, her eyes rolling as she gave an exaggerated sigh.

“It’s alright,” she allowed, procuring the correct slip from a drawer, nails clicking over every surface as she moved. “I’ll fill it out… You know you can do all this over your phone, right? Just snap a picture of the check and move on with your day?” Then, with eyes that seemed to dance, she added, “Are you too old to know how to work the app?”

Leon raised a brow ridge (the audacity) and shook his head. 

“I’m old-school, not old.” 

She gave a non-committal hum, and Leo scoffed. 

“I’m not even forty!” He said in faux offense, heart jumping a little in his chest.

“The fact you said “I’m not even forty,” instead of “I’m in my thirties,” tells me exactly how close to being forty you are.”

At that, he barked a loud, surprised laugh. A laugh that took even himself by surprise. It had been… years, since someone talked to him like this. Decades, maybe. 

I was right. She doesn’t know who I am. She has no idea who I am…

“How long have you been here, Vivian?” He asked, amusement written all over his features, a light in his eyes that only his inner circle ever witnessed. 

“Oh, a couple months,” she answered from her bent forward position, using a blue ballpoint pen to handwrite his information on the correct bank slip. 

“You like it?”

She gave a little derisive snort of a laugh, then straightened to look over her shoulder. An older man with a Manager pin seemed to loom behind the counter, looking over her and Leon with a watchful gaze, and she said loudly, in a voice that carried, “I love it here!” 

She threw a cheery look at the slider and added, “This is honestly the best job I’ve ever had! I’ve only been here two months and I already feel like this is my second home, everyone here is so wonderful! It’s been such an amazing opportunity, and I love all the people and the atmosphere and-”

“He’s gone.”

“It’s awful,” she quickly transitioned, tone deadpan. “Are you kidding me? No one here is nice- except John,” she canted her chin to the man working the other window down the long counter- his long sandy blonde hair pulled back and gauges in his ears as he frowned at a harassed-looking woman who jabbered at him about late fees. “But he’s new too, so we’re in this together- like High School Musical.” 

Leon’s smile twisted higher at her honesty. “You’re telling me being a bank teller isn’t the American Dream?” 

Vivian snorted again. “Please. It is better than being in a secluded cubicle- at least I get to talk to people. But ugh, dealing with the public is terrible. No one wants to be at a bank, you know? It’s like the BMV. No one is happy to be here- and if you’re coming into the bank it’s usually because there is a problem. And then you get jokers who fill out all the wrong paperwork.”

She gave a belabored sigh before throwing him a wink, and Leo didn’t bother trying to smother his wide grin. 

“That must be terrible.” 

“It’s so terrible,” she agreed with a sage nod, crossing the ‘t’ in his last name with a flourish. “Alright, Mr. Fancy Pants, lemme see the check.”

Leo slid it to her with his thumb and didn't miss the way her eyes rounded just slightly before schooling into a neutral expression. 

“What’s that look?” He asked. 

“Just a lot of zeros,” she murmured casually.  

Like so many times now, since he’s entered the bank, Leon’s brow ridge raised high. “Are you allowed to comment on the amount someone is depositing?” he asked lightly. 

Vivian rolled her eyes. “Don’t start with me, big guy,” she began. “You’re the one who asked what the look was for.”

Leo chuckled and gave a half-shrug, “Not used to someone having such a terrible poker face.” 

She threw him a sour little scowl. “How dare you,” she quipped. “Just for that, I’m making you stand here longer.” 

Leon pressed his lips together, thought about his response, and then immediately unglued them. 

“I can live with that.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. Views not so bad, at this window.”

Leon decided very quickly that, as pretty as she was, he liked the way she looked when she was blushing even more. It was a blotchy show of red and pink, from her cheeks all the way down her neck. He liked the little strangled hum she made, too, her eyes darting from his face to her computer screen, her whole body fidgeting. Nervous. Caught between preening and embarrassment, her hands twitching as though she’d like to hide her face in them. Either no one took the time to compliment her (unlikely), or she enjoyed it because it was him serving said adulation. 

She took a long sip of her coffee, clearing her throat as she did, and Leo eyed the cup and sighed loudly. Fuck. He still hadn’t had any coffee.

“What’s that about?” She asked, clearly trying to pivot without addressing what he’d said, her lips still over the lid of her cup. She wasn’t even looking at her computer screen, but one hand still tapped away on her keyboard. 

“Haven’t had coffee yet,” he admitted, some of the irritation from before, which had all fled the moment he’d looked at her, returning. “It’s been a long, long morning.” 

“I was wondering about those eye bags,” Vivian said with a smirk, laughing when he glared at her. She took another deliberately long sip of her coffee and smacked her lips. “Delicious,” she teased.

Leo shook his head. “I tell you I’m suffering and this is how you act? You’re a terrible person.” 

“Am I? And I was just about to offer you some…” 

Leo’s eyes widened, and he straightened from his leaned posture to reach out a hand. “Please,” he intoned, voice half beseeching, half in jest.

Vivian shook her head, amused, then did a double take. “Wait, really? What if I have cooties?” 

Leo scoffed. “What are you, five? I told you, I haven’t had any caffeine. I'm dying here.” He said it seriously, suddenly convinced that, with only a little pleading, he might get a taste. “Come on, sweetheart, I’ll bring you a cup if I ever have to come back into this hell hole.” 

The blush, which had begun to recede, flared back up the instant he uttered sweetheart. Still, Vivian passed him her cup after only a moment of deliberation- eyes dancing with amusement when he drank what was left in three large gulps- like some kind of parched animal. 

It was lukewarm and not nearly sweet enough- but as soon as the liquid hit his tongue, he felt more like himself. 

“What kind of man,” Vivian began with a breathy laugh, “drinks from the cup of a woman he doesn't know?” 

Leon gave a loud, pleased sigh, eyes closed and lips twitching. “The desperate kind,” he responded. 

“Yeah? Hope you don’t mind having my lipstick all over your mouth, either.” 

He looked down at the plastic lid, seeing immediately that her mauve lipstick stains were smeared across it. He gave her a toothy grin. “Is it my shade?”

“Of course it is.”

Without really thinking about what he was doing, Leo rubbed the back of his sleeve across his mouth, the white of his cuffs stained in an instant. 

“That’s a good way to get in trouble with the girlfriend,” Vivian remarked, taking the empty cup out of his hand and setting it to the side. 

“Lucky me, I don’t have one of those.” 

Leo didn’t miss the little upward tug of her lips, and a predatory glean filled in his eyes. He knew bait when he saw it- he was tempted to ask why she was fishing. Before he could say anything, though- deplorable flirting just on the tip of his tongue- Vivian gave a few loud final taps to her keyboard.

“You’re all set, Mr. Hamato,” she lilted. “Want a receipt?” Then, as though she heard her own question, added, “What am I saying of course you do. Otherwise, how will you know I didn’t skim a little off the top?”

“I wouldn’t even notice,” Leo said truthfully.

“Oh in that case.”

She printed his receipt and folded it, putting it in an envelope and sliding it across the counter. 

“Anything else, sir?” 

He was half tempted to have her tell her actually did want to make a withdrawal- just to keep talking to her. But his phone buzzed in his pocket, a reminder that someone else was counting on him, and he sighed. 

“Not a thing,” he said, all that irritation bleeding back into his body at the thought of walking away. 

“It’s been a pleasure,” she told him with a smile- a real one, too. One that reached her eyes, one that he returned, gray meeting green and holding for just a moment. “Or a nightmare, whichever you think is best.” 

Leo’s smile stretched across his face. “A pleasure, absolutely.” 

“You treated Mr. Hamato well, right?”

The question came from Vivan’s manager, William Taylor, and it had her pausing as she gathered her things at the end of the work day, her purse dangling from her shoulder, her hurried movements halted with a screech. That always happened when a superior had a question- one that was more an accusation than anything else.

“I’m sorry?” 

“Mr. Hamato,” he repeated, voice a little high, a little stressed. “Did he leave happy?” 

Vivian’s brow raised. Leonardo Hamato (and never mind that she’d remember his name, a flare of pink dusting her cheeks at the mention of him) had been inside the bank hours ago. It seemed a little odd to wait until they were closing to ask, especially if there had been a complaint. 

Had there been a complaint? Had her casual manner, which she’d thought he’d read as… charming, maybe, actually been ill-received? If that was the case, she needed to find the nearest manhole and swan dive right into it- just to escape the utter embarrassment she’d have for misreading the conversation. That, and she was definitely getting fired- no one but John even liked her (and sometimes she thought he only tolerated her).

“Uh… yeah? Yes. He left happy. He seemed happy, anyway.” She paused, bottom lip between her teeth, then added, “Did he call and complain about something…?”  

It was as though her answer was something that caused her manager great relief, because Mr. Taylor exhaled a whooshing of held breath. 

“No calls or complaints,” he replied, waving off her question. “But I wanted to be sure.” 

Before she could ask, he gave her a stern look- like a parent about to discipline their child for some perceived bad behavior. “If he comes in again, I want you to make sure he has everything he needs from us- that goes for both of you! Be nice. Accommodating. Whatever he wants, I mean it!” He barked the instruction to her co-worker, John, as well, and before Vivian could even give an affirmative he was leaving with a huff, office door slammed in his wake.

The moment it was shut, Vivian gave John a bewildered look. 

“What the fuck was that about?” 

John gave a large shrug, passive gaze conveying just how much he didn’t care. “I dunno, man. Maybe he’s a big client?” 

“Oh, he is. I saw all the zeros in his account.” Vivian glared at the closed door of the office Mr. Taylor had retreated to. “I’m always nice,” she muttered sourly. 

At that, John scoffed. “Are you?” 

“Oh fuck you! I’m so nice!” 

“You froze that lady's account the other day.”

“She called me a bimbo!”

John chuckled and shook his head. “Come on, I want a drink, and being here longer than I have to makes me depressed.”

She let it leave her mind, for a while. Let the words Mr. Taylor said to her float away as she and John played a few rounds of darts over beer and nachos- each of them refusing to talk about work when they were outside of it. Instead, they threatened to ping each other with darts and argued over the jukebox selections, and by the end of the night they giggled in a bathroom stall while using a Sharpie to add to the graffiti. Immature, maybe, but John seemed to bring out the worst in her, egging her on until she broke- hissing at her to “stop drawing the cocks so big, it’s more unsettling if they're flaccid.”

But later, in the relative quiet of her small apartment, Vivian thought about it, stewing over her manager's words as she drank down a glass of cold water and a handful of ibuprofen.

Mr. Hamato hadn’t complained, and that was a relief. She’d only been in New York City for just over two measly months, was only able to afford her questionably located apartment because of a payout she’d taken at her last job, back in Iowa, and she couldn’t afford to get fired. Not with how expensive everything was. 

God, everything was so expensive. Rent alone had her scraping to get by- even when she took a second job cleaning office buildings on the weekends. And never mind utilities and groceries and cab fare when she needed to get home from a night out with John. It left hardly any time at all to just enjoy herself, to enjoy this new lease on life. Her wings might be unclipped, but she hadn’t really been able to stretch them.

You always knew this was going to be hard. Moving to a new city, not knowing anyone. Suck it up. 

The pep talk was one she gave herself often. 

Still, Mr. Hamato hadn’t complained, and it was a relief. She might not love her job, might not even like it, but the bulk of what she earned came from the eight-to-five. She needed it, was lucky to have it, and teasing some good-looking mutant wasn’t worth the potential loss. 

So why had Mr. Taylor asked her about him? Why had he looked so worried, so nervous? Why had he seemed relieved when she’d said he’d left happy? And why oh why was he so special that she and John and everyone else who worked in the bank were told to be accommodating? Nice?

Not your circus, she thought to herself, frowning at her empty glass of water, head spinning a little from the cheap IPA still sloshing around in her stomach. Remember? Mind your business. Keep your head down. 

The thought wouldn’t leave, though. She stopped herself from searching his name on Google, showering as quickly as she could (the water heater afforded exactly three minutes of uninterrupted hot water), and crawled into bed with a loud yawn. She didn’t need to know, and she certainly didn’t need to care. He’d liked her, she thought. He’d liked the teasing, the banter. He’d flirted with her. 

Even under the covers, hours between herself and Leonardo telling her he liked the view, her cheeks blossomed pink. God, she needed to get laid, if that was all it took to get her worked up. 

Him being a literal fucking tank hadn’t hurt, though. Neither had the stormy gray eyes or the easy smile or the laugh lines. Which was stupid, probably. He looked tired and had a scar on his lip (and she shushed her mind when it tried to insist that those features made him hotter, somehow), and he exuded too much confidence. The kind of confidence that people only got when they weren’t used to being told no, she thought. He just screamed that he was the kind of man who didn’t know how to do anything but flirt, and she decided, too, that he must have a laundry list of bodies in and out of his bed. 

Be kind, you don’t know that.

Maybe not. But what she did know was that she hadn’t moved to New York just to get caught up in another man. Hell no. 

Still, Mr. Taylor’s words echoed in her mind as she drifted off to sleep, three alarms set for the morning so she wouldn’t miss her wake-up call.

Who the hell was Leonardo Hamato, that she had to tiptoe around him?

[jalenay]

NWWD: Editing Update

Time for the Main Edit! 0 of 37 chapters done lol

i'm hoping to get this edit done in a month, no idea how realistic that'll wind up being but i gotta start with a goal. if you want some more detail on my personal editing process see below

also includes the reader name reveal, because i don't think i've shared that anywhere yet

my editing process, when i hav the time and i'm not rushing to post, is that i print out the chapters--in a different colored ink and in a different font--and hand write my edits with a red pen. then i type the edits up after.

there are a couple reasons for this but the main one is that i think i pick up and notice errors/places i want to revise etc when i see it on paper more than on a screen. this is something i noticed on my own but also something i've seen echoed elsewhere. the different font/color i definitely saw online first, put in to practice, and at least placebo-ed my way into think it helps me edit better too. the idea is that it makes things different but not too different and so u can pick up on stuff better. all of the fonts are still readable, but just not like times new roman/arial/calibri etc

obviously this takes a lot longer than just editing on the computer, but i think its worth it. also, i still do some longer revisions on the computer - i have a bad habit of just lik underlining or highlighting or just putting a star next to a paragraph i dont like as shorthand to myself for like "reword" "awkward phrasing" "confusing" etc and then 'typing up the edits' me is like shit, now i gotta actually come up with how to fix it lol so the typing up often takes the longer of the two.

if i'm really taking my time (in terms of like prewriting a lot before posting anything for a story/fic), i'll do this chapter by chapter, hard copy and typing all of one before the next. sometimes i'll do a bunch at once, especially if i'm also trying to fix overarching things. i think i did all of DSM hard copy and then typed it all? but i can't really remember. i've split NWWD into 5 mini-arcs and i'll probably do all the hard copy edits on the chapters in that arc and then type all of them up, etc. that way i can also send multiple completed chapters to my beta reader(s) at once and i can make sure that i can tackle some of the exposition structuring things i want to fix more cohesively across chapters (or so i hope).

wish me luck!

P.S. shout-out to one of the AO3 comments who noticed all of the sibling's names were plant names and speculated that the reader would get a similarly themed name! you were right!

[beanibon]

Hi!!!! Hope this isn't too uncomfortable but could you write Vash catching his s/o trying to make themself throw up due to body image issues? It's totally OK if you reject, take care of urself first and always.

I'm going to be completely honest and even I little forward sharing this, but as someone with an ED myself I couldn't be more thankful to be able to bring this to life. There aren't enough fics that I've seen at least of these topics, and I'd be glad to write thus for you Anon 💜

Please take care yourself 💜

TW: throwing up, body dysmorphia, potential mentions of EDs (eating disorders).

Drool pooled around your fingers, the tips reaching your uvula as you felt your throat tighten and gag at the intrusive appendages. Bile, bitter and acidic could be tasted at the back of your throat, but it wasn't enough to make you fully vomit.

You lent over the bowl of the motel's toilet, regretting how you gorged yourself at dinner with the group. To be fair, you didn't actually realise the portion was going to be massive, otherwise you would've swapped it for something much smaller. Then perhaps you wouldn't be in this situation.

A quiet knock on the door had you tense, cursing as you noticed the door was unlocked.

"Y/N? You in there?" Vash called, concerned etched within every syllable.

Guilt made you nauseous, finding you were gagging more due to it rather than the fingers shoved down your throat. You didn't mean to worry Vash, running off to your room the moment the group arrived back, but you couldn't justify eating that much. It was too much, yet you still ate it all.

"Hey, can you open the door? I'm worried about you, the food didn't make you sick did it?" You swore Vash didn't know the definition of privacy, for all you know the blonde would've walked in anyways even if you were properly using the bathroom. Without so much as a warning.

"I'm fine! How did you even get in my room?"

"...that's unimportant." You were going to kill him.

Opting to ignore the intrusive Gunman outside your door, returning your mind to urgency of purging your genuinely enjoyable meal. That was until the door slid open, revealing that familiar, adorable face you knew all too well.

You both stared at each other for a few seconds, Vash shocked and stepping forward until his giant form was towering over your hunched body. He watched the way you quickly flushed your previous purging, slamming the lid of the toilet shut in shame.

Before long, two arms wrapped around you, encasing you in a tight, but comforting hug. Vash buried his nose into your hair, those long legs on either side.

"You shouldn't be doing something so harmful like this, you're perfect the way you are." Those words had your heart aching, eyes watering as you hid your face, shaking it to deny Vash's words. The only response was the sound of a quiet sigh, then a brief chuckle. "You can deny it all you want, but I'm a pretty lucky guy ya know? Got good taste to pick out such a beautiful woman, a real good lookin gal!"

No matter how hard you tried you couldn't stop the giggle that echoed off the bathroom walls, peeking up your boyfriend fondly. The way his eyes sparkled in unabashed delight at getting your attention was cute, arms pulling you closer as he nuzzled into you.

"I'm really lucky, and I mean it Y/N. Please, you don't need to do this anymore, no matter what I'll never judge you, you're perfect to me." A lingering kiss was placed atop your head, the sensation leaving a warmth you could never forget.

Exhaling tiredly you slowly nodded, leaning into Vash's warm embrace. "I'll try."

"That's all I ask, healing can take a while, but that's why I'm here Mayfly. To support you through all this." Another kiss, and you melted into that loving warmth.

Maybe you were the lucky one, being blessed with such a sweet boyfriend to kiss away the pain, to be patient through your darkest time. Either way, Vash was beyond perfect and you were forever thankful.

[chaos-monkeyy]

20 Questions for fanfic writers

Tagged by @trainofcommand and @cordeliaperry , thank you 😁

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

351

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

969,232 !

(I had a soft goal of trying to break a million this year, but I probably won't quite make it. Ah well, next year!)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Literally anything I see or read that happens to hit squirrel-brain in the right spot: Stargate, Star Wars, Cosmere / Stormlight Archive / Sanderson's books generally, Loki series & other MCU media, OFMD, Good Omens, Dresden Files, Star Trek (and one-offs for random-ass shows like the Mentalist, 1899, tLoVM, Echoes, etc). Honorable mentions to past beloved fandoms that I'm not super likely to really get back to again include Midsomer Murders, the Witcher, Assassin's Creed, and the Expanse 💕

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Top spot is A wonderful thing (OFMD); the next four in order are all Witcher - A Tight Fit, Stolen Moments, Keep it up, and Undignified.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do! I love seeing people's reactions, and letting them know how much I appreciate that they took the time and energy to comment (because fuck knows, I don't always have the spoons to comment on stuff myself). And it's so nice to get that connection with people and get excited about stuff together!

(I have missed some replies here and there just because of over-stressing about what to respond, and subsequently feeling guilty that I left them unanswered so long 🙈 ahh, anxiety-brain, you sure are special)

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

This is one is easy, it's definitely Zombie / what's in your head. One of only two times I've written Major Character Death, and the only time I've used the Angst and Tragedy tag.

It's fucking brutal, honestly. Damn good, but ouch. Dark. Sometimes I reread it when I just want to cry hopelessly for awhile. It's like an... emotional reset or something.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Most of my fics have happy endings in the happy-sexy-sated vein, but most of my fics are also happy-sexy-oneshots so there isn't any real conflict or worry to come back from that makes the happy ending something that wasn't a given, if that makes sense. My first thought for something more involved was Inflection Point, but it's not exactly a happy ending for everyone. So I think I'll go with Curious Creatures, because even though I know how it ends and I wrote the damn thing, I still somehow get worried it will have a sad ending every time I go back and reread it, and then I'm relieved all over again at the end.

(Honorable mention to the Adventures of Admiral Prawn and Yee-Claw, because how can we not be happy that he found his lost hat with the help of a new friend 😂)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Honestly nowhere near as much as I'd kind of expect to? 😆

I had some rando dickhead giving me grief in comments on a couple Assassin's Creed fics, and I've seen people griping in fandom social media spaces about a couple of my works and the fact they (gasp) existed in the tags at all, but mostly people have been decent and kept it to themselves when they don't like me or my writing ���

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Yes. All of it. All the smut.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Not really! Never published one to AO3. Closest I've got is that Witcher-Assassins Creed WIP languishing in my google docs, and a silly fun little SGA-Original SW thing on tumblr from probably a couple years ago now.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Pretty sure, yeah. Not to the point of really being able to do anything about it but it kinda sucked. Shit happens.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! A couple of them that I know of 😁

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Oh hell yeah. Many times 💕

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Cock/Hole.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Mmm I have two published WIPs that fall into that category exactly, Ill-advised encounters and The skills of Assassins. They were really fun, I'd have really liked to finish them, annnd I probably never will 😅

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I'm pretty damn good at pacing a story, whether it's a oneshot or a longer fic, and at getting ~feelings~ across (whether it's horny feelings, smushy soft feelings, angsty feelings, whatever). And I've been told that I'm good at like... developing a setting and characters in a way that flows or unfolds naturally with the story while you read? Or something like that? (they said it better and it made me very happy)

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

That would be not getting things actually started and just keeping the ideas in my head because What If this time I can't make the words do the thing good enough. Especially whenever I have ideas for something potentially longer or more involved, I do tend to kinda shoot myself in the foot by going "eehhhhh that would be a LOT of work though.... I don't want that kind of commitment....... Maybe I'll write down the idea later............"

Also being constantly distracted by shiny new things. But that part's fun 😆

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I use italics, try to limit it to single words or short phrases, and where possible I make the meaning clear or translated somehow within the fic itself. Last resort, I'll add a little glossary to the start or end notes if it's important to the story.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Midsomer Murders 💖

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

I genuinely don't have a favourite! There's a few I'm extra proud of myself for accomplishing, but I really like most of what I've ever written for one reason or another.

Or another answer would be, my current favourite changes like every week and is usually one of my recent fics 😂 Right now it's probably The Taste of My Blade; it'll be something else in a month.

No pressure tags: @dewdropreader , @mirilyawrites , @starport-seven-five , @loki-is-my-kink-awakening , @dedkake , @wantonwhale , and I won't spam tag all the same people as I did in yesterday's tag game in case you're not feeling it right now, but as always - if you see this and want to be tagged, you are! 💙

[kyoxaa]

LuciKy / SinfulTwilight Fanfic

I've never posted a fic on Tumblr before and idk how to format it but uh ig a few mentions first before I toss it here :3

the fic was written for art I made for my birthday, so it's a self insert x Luci fic, it's all sfw, all the bros are mentioned at least once, it's about 2.5k+ words, also I am not much of a writer so this may be the most goofy thing you'll read on here so yea 😭🙏

also this isn't proofread :p

anyway hope you enjoy it :3

The Morningstar's Guiding Light

It was the morning of Ky's birthday, the sun barely lit Lucifer's room from the blockage of the curtains. The large master bedroom, filled with a large king sized bed, one that held the two lovers wrapped up under the nice velvety sheets, keeping them warm in the cold room.

As Lucifer's alarm rang throughout the room, the extremely tired and barely awake demon reached out, shutting the alarm off and wrapping his arms around his equally tired human, neither of them were fans of just waking up in the morning, but today, especially for Lucifer, they weren't mad. Lucifer’s head rested in the crook of Ky's neck, his arms wrapping around his lover's body in a protective and close hold. Once he spoke, his voice sounded groggy and dazed, though the happiness in it was audible.

“.. Happy birthday, my angel…” Lucifer says and sounding somewhat muffled with his mouth covered by Ky's shoulder. Lucifer's ears can almost be seen twitching for a second as he hears the very groggy voice of his human, even if it was his birthday, he's still cranky, he wasn't a morning person, the same way Lucifer wasn't a morning demon.

“mmmm.. Thanks Luci..” Ky says groggily before lifting himself up just barely to give Lucifer a kiss on the cheek, a small, tired smile, playing on his lips. Though, knowing how Lucifer was, Ky almost immediately felt Lucifer's hand under his chin. Luci's fingers gently tilted Ky's head up, their lips connecting into a warm and passionate kiss. Though their fun alone didn't last too long.

The two heard the little taps of feet running down the quiet hallway in the House of Lamentation, along with some long strides behind the littler ones. The first to barge into the room was Kenji, with his elder sister, Katsumi following behind him, looking as tired as her parents, unlike Kenji she definitely took after her parents with not being a fan of waking up so early in the morning, Kenji on the other hand, was as energetic as he could be, being as young as he was it's no wonder. After running in, Kenji hopped up on Lucifer's bed, giving both of his dad's a very excitable and warm hug each, both of them hearing the excitement in his little voice as he spoke. “Happy birthday, papa!”

More close by, Kat walked inside behind Kenji, her tired voice faintly echoing through the otherwise quiet and empty hallways with a soft yawn as she spoke aloud as well. “Hmmm… Happy birthday, papa..” Despite how tired she was, the happiness she had was audible, to which Ky smiled gently at the two, ruffling up Kenji’s hair as he spoke. “Awh, thanks so much you two… I appreciate it”

After a moment Ky, Luci, and Kenji got out of bed and followed along with Katsumi to the kitchen, where to none of their surprise, could all hear the bickering of Lucifer's six other brothers in the dining hall.

“Hey! Beel! I told you not to eat all of the waffles!” That was definitely Satan, which promptly had a follow up from Beel. “I'm sorry… I was hungry..” Asmo chimed in with a reply of his own almost immediately. “Beel, hon… You're always hungry… How about you set the table instead, hm?” He suggested, Beel simply replying with an ‘Okay’ and Belphie tiredly following behind him. Mammon and Levi were just barely walking out of the kitchen with a new serving of waffles, alongside other breakfast dishes, pancakes, French toast, milk, orange juice, fruit, whipped cream. They all had practically made a feast together, though of course with the casual amount of familial fights that they quickly recovered from. “Hey! Beel! Don't eat these either, ya got that? I ain't makin’ more of these get eaten too!” Mammon said with a mock-scowl, placing the food he had on the table, Levi following behind him with his usual snarky replies. “LOL! Come on, Mammon, you'd make it again for his birthday, we all know you would!” Mammon's cheeks flushed red in embarrassment, though he just barely missed dropping the bottle of whipped cream. “H-Hey! Shut up will ya?! I wouldn't! All of ya can make it yourselves if it falls!” Mammon snapped back, taking a seat down at the table.

Mammon soon after however, looks up from his seat, seeing the other four in the distance and about to walk in, he had an almost devilish smile on his face, getting up from his seat to greet the birthday boy himself with a real tight hug, partially to get under the rest of his brother's skins, and they knew it all too well by that point to even care. “Hey there! Happy birthday Ky! How've you been so far, huh? Better be good or else I'll give Lucifer a good talkin’ to for ya!” Mammon caused a few laughs from Ky and especially Katsumi, she had always found her uncle Mammon to be a riot, getting a warm hug returned to him as well from the little human. “Hehe, it's been great, don't worry about it you big goof..” Ky says with a grin as the rest of the brothers approach him, a jokingly loud sigh from Lucifer in the background of his brothers usual morning antics, he had once again, underestimated how willing his brothers were to wake themselves up before even he got out of bed, just to surprise his human, something about it made him feel content within that chaos.

“Mammon move your ahhh- I mean butt out of my way! You're hogging Ky and you know it!” Levi snapped, only causing Mammon to stick his tongue out at his brother, who rightfully gave him a dirty scowl.

“Awh, Hon, how about I get your breakfast for you! Do you want Waffles? Maybe some fruits too? and some sweet whipped cream?” Asmo coo’s, subtly trying to outdo Mammon without being as forward about it, Belphie slipped through the others, his hand grabbed onto Ky's arm, holding his comfortable pillow out to him.

“Mmmm… How about you take a nap with this? It's comfy you know.. and it is my favorite, so you better return it by tomorrow..”

Soon after came Satan, a small pair of what seemed to be handmade cat plushies in his hands, his face looking flushed with embarrassment at the stuff he'd made and handed to Ky. “Look.. I.. I made you these of you and Mr. Pridy McPrideFace. Don't let them get ruined, you hear?” He said as he crossed his arms, Asmo looked like he was about to squeal but kept himself quiet and gave an excited smile to Satan.

After a while, Levi was able to get through the oddly rough crowd of 5 other demons in his way, though after seeing Satan's gift his cheeks got the same level of red to them, maybe even worse knowing how he was. “I- I uh- Listen I know Satan made you those and all but I found this custom acrylic thing on Akuzon and uh… got you a few!” Levi would've practically shoved the gift box of acrylics in Ky's hand if he wasn't aware of how ruined it would make the stands, so he gave it to him gently.

Then Mammon, having almost forgotten, pulled a pair of tickets from his pocket, handing them to Lucifer, knowing My would more than likely lose them in the mess of gifts in his hands, he then looked back at the human before speaking to him, seeing the shocked look on his face, though he couldn't tell if it was from his gift or the mountain from his brothers. “Listen, short stuff. I got ya two tickets to go to Devil's Coast.. I figured tomorrow you and Lucifer can… I don't know.. go or somethin.” Mammon had the most embarrassed look to him yet, though the other 5 behind him looked shocked, then Lucifer chimed in as he stared almost blankly at the pair of tickets in his hands.

“Mammon,” he started, his voice having that same sharp edge to it that would always make his brothers, and sometimes his kids, scared shitless. “Where did you even get the money for these?” Thankfully, for Mammon, he didn't buy them completely recklessly. “Well uh, y’see big bro… I was able to get them from this super nice witch who had two spares, just hadda pay her upfront!-” “And how did you get the money? I thought it was suspicious how often you haven't been home as often, you know.”

Ky, having to listen in on this along with the rest of the brothers, spoke up with his own assumption. “He probably just worked overtime to not have a loan.. If that's all it is, don't worry so much about it, love.” Ky basically gave his demon the look of, ‘don’t ask, just roll with it’ and he reluctantly agreed, Mammon looked as if he'd just been saved.

Then finally amidst the chaos, Beel stepped up, holding a coupon in his hand, also like Mammon, he handed it to Lucifer, though he looked like he was about to start drooling, and once Lucifer saw what the coupon was for he could immediately see why. his hand held a coupon for Ristorante Six, how Beel didn't use this himself? He had no idea, but he didn't bother asking, though he heard Beel whisper in his ear to tell Ky the gift was from him later, to which Lucifer nodded and placed the two tickets and the coupon in his wallet, keeping them safe in his pocket.

“Here, Ky, let me put these in our room.” Luci said, holding his hands out for the oddly large set of gifts, which Ky almost immediately gave him, his arms already getting tired from holding them all, as Lucifer walked away he group hugged the rest of the brothers, a goofy ass smile the brothers knew him for across his face, showing he definitely liked the gifts at least.

The large group soon after took their seats at the large table in the room, eating breakfast together and engaging in their usual familial banter and talking. As each of the brothers and their kids finished their food, they excused themselves, Katsumi and Kenji both grabbed a pair of gifts they'd kept in Kat's purse, since it was oddly a giant purse, Kenji had a small card in his little hands, having a little personally written message from both his kids and even Lucifer as well inside it. Katsumi had her half of the gift, having gotten her artsy hobbies from her dad. She wanted to make him small plushies, so she made a whole little set of plush keychains of each of them.

Ky's face was nothing short of pure shock at everything he saw, and of course, in fashion of his human relatives, he slowly got teary eyed reading the little messages from his kids and Lucifer, and of course Lucifer’s was most of the entire second half of the card, leave it to him to ramble about how he loved his human, even to his face. In writing or verbal speech, he made sure his feelings were always known. The day itself was filled with fun shenanigans, each of the other brothers and the kids distracting Ky until Lucifer was ready with his surprise to finish the night off.

As the day was nearing its end, Lucifer sent Ky a message, a quick one to make him move to him faster, the demon was almost craving to spend time with his human and he planned on making it worth the wait for both of them.. Once Kyro walked into the bedroom, Lucifer stood, all dressed up just for him, the sight could almost make the guy tear up again at the thoughtfulness.

“Are you ready to go, my little love?” Lucifer spoke, his voice filled to the brim with the tender warmth Ky knew all too well. “I've planned something special for you.. I know you won't forget it.”

Ky smiled at Lucifer’s words, nodding his head and holding his hand out for the demon to take, which he promptly did, “Yea, I'm ready. I'm really excited! I've been wanting to spend time with you all day…”

The two of them took hands and made their way to the car, Lucifer had a whole day's worth of activities. They went to many places throughout the day, from cafes, to parks, to stores, pretty much anywhere. They had the day to themselves and they'd take full advantage of that. Though as a final tribute, Lucifer thought of bringing Ky to the Devil's Coast, and go on the Ferris Wheel, the same place he proposed to him, making it a special place for the two of them. After getting to Devils Coast, Ky looked ecstatic, like his suppressed inner child got released. Seeing how expressive Ky can somehow get despite all Lucifer knows about him, it made him smile, all that excitement was because of him, it made his pride swell up when his love enjoyed his surprises.

“I'll get the door for you, love.” Lucifer said as he was getting out of the car, swiftly making his way to the passenger side of the car, opening the door and helping Ky out, his actions causing his humans cheeks to redden, which was his end goal, not like it took much work on Lucifer's end to make his human flustered like that anyway, saves him all the trouble.

The two of them had a fun night out at the Devil's Coast, they got one last meal at one of the local food stands for their dinner, played a bunch of the corny carnival games with Lucifer pretending he was some hot shot and could win each one with no effort, they walked along the beach before the sun started to fully set and then after getting ice cream, they went on the Ferris Wheel.

They engaged in some mindless chatting about Ky's day while the ride started up. Lucifer was just glad he could make his human happy, he adored seeing Ky smile, he'd never admit to it but he'd do anything to see it on him. As the Ferris Wheel started getting up to the top with the sunset looking almost mesmerizing from their view, Lucifer turned Ky to face him by the window, cupping his chin in his hand, slowly pulling him in for a tender kiss. The sun's rays were practically reflecting on the two as they shared their kiss, and once they parted, Lucifer could see the pure shocked and flustered expression on Ky's face. He felt pride swell up at Ky's reaction to him, letting out a soft chuckle.

After the two finished their ride, going inside and getting settled in bed, they continued talking in bed, Ky's eyes slowly getting droopy, being exhausted after such a long day.

“Did you have fun, my love?” Lucifer asked, his own voice having that same tone of exhaustion after a long work day, though the hint of a smile on his face, he had a good time and wasn't afraid to show it.

“Hehe.. of course I did, I loved it.. Thank you, Luci..” Ky said as he snuggled himself close to Luci, wrapping his arms around the demon's body, keeping them close together.

“Good… I'm glad”

After Lucifer spoke, the two were out like a light, snuggled up close, the two celebrating the final hours of Ky's birthday cuddled together, Lucifer holding his human close to him as well, never letting him go.

+ the art of the cards from another art spam post :3

[veronicaphoenix]

the unmaking of a warrior | part seven

Pairing: samurai/ronin!noah x fem. reader | Words: 11.5k

Chapter tags & trigger warnings: tiny bit of sexual content at the beginning, fluff, subtle talks of dom/sub dynamic, mentions of bondage, torture, nightmares, anxiety, mentions of underage sexual experiences, blade to throat, death threats, blood, mentions of supernatural forces, mentions of Noah having killed people before (sorry, he's a samurai, after all), mentions of pregnancy, angst, cliffhanger at the end whoops. so many things, i'm taking this fic very seriously no joke

Author's note: okay everybody, i've done a bunch of research for this fic and I love learning about different cultures and expanding my knowledge about the world, but the entire thing is obviously historically inaccurate (not that this is exactly a historical fic but anyway), also I don't think people wore sweatpants in feudal Japan, but I can't picture Noah not wearing them, so here you go, a samurai wearing sweatpants. 🤭 I haven't done a second review to check for any last typos or mistakes, so I apologize for that.

Additional useful info: - Kami: japanese word for a deity, divinity, or spirit. - Yakuza: individual involved in criminal organizations, thought to have descended from gangs of ronin (masterless samurai) - Rei and Ren are two different people in the story. Rei we like, Ren we definitely do not like.

THE UNMAKING OF A WARRIOR 

PART VII

Waking up to Noah’s serene form beside me felt like a blessing. 

         His peaceful slumber was a sight I’d seen many times in the dark, when he slept by my side and I sacrificed my own hours of rest just to watch him, knowing that with the dawn, he would be gone. 

         But this time, watching him held a special tranquility. His young features, usually marked by a furrowed brow, were now softened in repose, free from the burdens of worry that plagued him even in sleep. 

         During the night, his rest had been disturbed, his subconscious grappling with the lingering echoes of the past few days. Despite the idyllic surroundings we found ourselves in, a part of him remained tethered to the fears and uncertainties of our choices. His dreams were plagued with scenarios of what could have happened days ago, before escaping from my father’s estate. At one point, he tossed and turned so fervently in bed that he flung the sheets off his body. A thin layer of sweat covered his forehead, neck, and chest. 

         Now that morning had unfolded, and sunlight streamed into our modest dwelling, I found myself drawn to Noah’s profile, his beautiful lines illuminated by the gentle glow. Even while sleeping, his features exuded a captivating allure, making him look even more handsome than he already was. His shirt had shifted during the night, when he found himself trapped in a nightmare, and a glimpse of his abdomen was now revealed to me alongside the scars that marred his warrior skin. A pang of sadness washed over me at the reminder of the trials he had endured, being born into a family of Samurai where the path of battle was but an unavoidable destiny. 

         My eyes shifted from one ugly scar under his left pectoral to the tattoos adorning his skin. 

         Noah’s fascination with tattoos had always intrigued me, especially considering the strict code of the Samurai that forbade such adornments. Samurai detested tattoos. Yet, Noah had received his first one at the age of eighteen, during a chance encounter with a group of ronin on the outskirts of the estate. I remember him recounting the tale to me with a mix of trepidation and wonder, describing how he had nearly fled at the sight of the masterless samurai. Yet, he found himself drawn to their stories and the reasons why they had decided to break the Bushido code and now lived in the shadows. A ronin had been the one to ink a small dragon onto Noah’s skin, unaware that Noah would become one of them years later. As he showed the tattoo to me and I traced the red and blue lines with my fingertips, I became aware that he would have to keep it hidden. It terrified me to know what my father would do to him if he found out Noah had stained his skin. 

         This morning, my fingers traced the same path, sliding down gently from the head of the dragon to its ferocious tail. Noah stirred slightly beneath my touch, though he remained slightly lost in his sleep. I shot a wary glance at his face, and as soon as I saw his eyes remained closed, I moved my fingers to his navel and down, towards the line of hair that descended and disappeared under the waistband of his pants.

         He whispered my name, a gentle protest.

         “Stop that. It tickles,” he mumbled, his voice coarse.

         His words only triggered me to continue my tracing, which made him open his eyes and, in an instant, he had flipped me onto my back, his grin infectious as he pinned me beneath him.

         The unmistakable hardness of his morning erection didn’t go unnoticed to me as it pressed against my hip.  

         “Good morning,” I said quietly, but even with my sweet voice I couldn’t hide my intentions. Noah narrowed his gaze on me, his fingers moving a few strands of hair from my face. 

         “Good morning,” he replied. “Someone had a good night’s sleep, I see.”

         As soon as he said that, I subtly arched my hips, seeking out some friction. Noah’s eyes darkened. With one hand on my hip, he kept me pinned to the mattress, but I was feeling feisty enough and I slid a hand down and inside his sweatpants, making my way beneath his underwear and wrapping my fingers around his hard, thick length. 

         Locked in a silent exchange of desire, Noah’s eyes bore into mine, a vein beginning to pulse on his neck. Just as I was poised to take things further, to pump him once, laughter from outside shattered the moment, snapping us both back to reality. 

         Noah immediately flipped back to his side of the bed, both slightly breathless and eager for the privacy we had momentarily lost. We turned our attention towards the balcony door, our sanctuary now breached by the intrusion of the outside world. 

         We had no idea what time it was, but suddenly we were very aware of the noise outside, the chatter of voices, the chirping of birds, the occasional deer call, and the distant clucking of chickens. I was momentarily disoriented. 

         As the chaos settled around us, a sense of clarity began to emerge. 

         We were far from home, —or what home had been—. We were nestled in a humble abode offered by a community we had only just discovered. Surrounded by life in all its vibrant forms, if we got lucky enough, Noah and I could dare to hope for a future together in this place. The laughter of children drifting away outside made me wish with all my might that the opportunity came to us and all the dreams I had with Noah became a reality. 

         Despite the realization that we still didn’t have the privacy we would like, I wanted to embrace this new reality. To wake up to the symphony of birdsong, the joyous laughter of children, and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze—these simple pleasures whispered promises of a life yet to be lived. 

         After composing ourselves and tending to the necessities of the morning, I ventured out onto the porch, greeted by the sweet fragrance of nearby flowers and the soft caress of the morning breeze. In the distance, I spotted Rika and Milla’s children, their playful antics adding a sweet touch to the warmth of our new community. 

         Near the door, a package caught my eye, it’s presence a tangible reminder of the kindness that surrounded us. Attached to it was a tag bearing Rika’s name. With a grateful smile, I carried the package inside, closing the wooden doors behind me. 

         As Noah caught sight of me, a softness settled over his features. I could tell he was still living in the short moment we had shared in bed as we woke up.

         I carefully read the note attached to the package in my hands,

         “I thought these clothes might be useful for now. I hope they fit you. I used to wear them before I got pregnant with my first child. There are some from my husband that might fit Noah. 

Rika.”

         Surveying the contents of the package, Noah selected a pair of black trousers and a matching tunic, securing his katana at his waist with a belt of the same color as he finished getting dressed. Meanwhile, I found myself staring in awe at the array of dresses Rika had offered, each one an affirmation of her generosity and kindness. 

         After much deliberation, I chose a delicate white summer dress adorned with tiny blue flowers, its charm a contrast to the uncertainty of our circumstances. But as I held it in my hands and examined it, a sense of determination flooded me. I wanted this to work, and as silly as it sounded, I considered that, by wearing a cute dress, I could give it a start. 

         However, as I struggled with the intricate straps at the back of it, a sense of frustration took over me, and I found myself longing for the assistance of the maids back at my father’s estate. 

         Noah appeared behind me. In a heartbeat, his hands covered mine, his touch gentle yet confident. 

         “Let me,” he murmured, his voice a soothing melody in the quiet of the room as I dropped my hands. 

         With practiced ease, he skillfully tightened the straps and tied a knot. I held my breath, acutely aware of the precision in his touch. 

         His proficiency with ropes, honed through years as a samurai, carried with it a weight of history and pain that lingered beneath the surface. 

         I had witnessed the anguish that haunted Noah’s eyes on those nights we spent entwined beneath the covers, grappling with demons of his past. The torment of inflicting pain upon innocent prisoners that had been tied up with ropes in impossible ways weighed heavily upon him, a burden he bore with a heavy heart. And in those moments of darkness, I knew that I had to find a way to replace the agony with something else. I might not be able to make it disappear, but I could help him deal with it in a different way, build a new memory related to that bondage he was meant to perform on those people considered traitors.  

         The first time, many years ago when I asked him to tie me up, his horror at my proposal was obvious, and his refusal resolute and unwavering. He got very upset, and I didn’t insist any further that night. But I refused to be deterred, though, and patiently waited for the opportunity to convey the depth of my intentions and why I believed it could help him. 

         “I’m not asking you to hurt me,” I whispered. “I’m asking you to show me how much you’re capable of loving; to show me that by being completely at your mercy, I’m safe; that beneath the warrior lies a man of compassion and tenderness; that despite everything, you’re a man of good heart.”

         It was a gradual journey, fraught with a lot of uncertainty and hesitation. But as Noah discovered the profound emotional bond that the bindings on my body provided, there was no turning back, and soon I found myself bound and completely subjected to him in bed, feeling every one of his touches more intensely than ever, every kiss he placed on every inch of my body more devoted than the last. 

         The restraints provided by the bindings seemed to ignite the rest of my senses, making my skin tingle and increasing my ability to feel and understand that Noah was mine and I was his. Never, not once, did I fear him. That confidence toppled the last ounce of insecurity that remained in Noah, and since then, we knew that we wouldn’t be able to live without each other. 

         With Noah, I found a sanctuary where submission was a choice made freely. It had nothing to do with the control that defined my life and that I hated. With Noah I could be honest, and I could submit without fear. And Noah, despite not being able to escape the expectations of his samurai heritage, despite not being able to rid himself of that part of him that yearned for control and dominance, he embraced it when I was in his arms. 

         When we were with each other, the dynamic was wonderful, and there was no moment when we felt more united than when I let go, surrendered to his mercy.

         As I turned around and thanked him for tying the straps of the dress, I noticed that his eyes had darkened, and I understood that the same thoughts had been crossing his mind as he tied the ribbons.

         “Beautiful”, he murmured, but more than a sigh, the way he pronounced the word resembled a growl. 

         With a sheepish smile, I tiptoed to kiss him, my hands pressed against his hard stomach, and for a moment I damned that a few more moments alone together, in that comfortable bed that had been offered to us, had been stolen. 

         I’d had Noah inside me a couple of days ago, but still, the ache of missing and wanting him was too potent.  

         Noah parted his lips to kiss me deeper, but a growl from his stomach interrupted us. A hint of embarrassment colored his cheeks as I laughed.  

         “I’m hungry,” he said.   He traced a strand of hair that fell across my face, his fingers falling to my neck and caressing it in a tantalizing caress. “I could eat you.”

         He leaned in to feign a bite at my neck, prompting me to laugh louder. I squirmed under his touch, laughing and letting out little squeals.

It wasn’t as late as we initially thought. When we left the house, traces of dew still lingered on the plants, and some moisture collected on the stone paths. 

We walked to the main dining hall, warmly greeting the people who recognized us from the previous day, exchanging good mornings with a wave of the hand or a polite nod. In the dining hall, much like the night before, there weren’t many people, but the same woman who served me dinner the previous night was there, delighted to see me in good spirits and well accompanied.     Noah and I had breakfast in silence, occasionally glancing around, absorbing the details of the place and familiarizing ourselves with the community’s routine. The woman serving the food assured us we could eat as much as we wanted, gesturing with her arms to indicate the abundance of fresh fruit baskets, cereals, and other hot delicacies piled up on a long table at the opposite end of the hall. 

I was finishing a cup of hot tea when an elderly couple, around eighty, perhaps,, approached us very slowly, delicate smiles on their wrinkled faces. I exchanged a cautious glance with Noah, unsure how to greet them, whether we should stand up, or if we should stop eating. As soon as Noah made a move to rise from the bench, the woman gestured with her hand and shook her head, then gave him a couple of gentle pats on the shoulder. The encounter didn’t go beyond that.     

Not long after, when Rika appeared on the porch leading to the dining hall, she informed us that they were the oldest couple in the community, residing at the top of the hill at the back end of the village, just behind the temple we had seen upon our arrival the day before. They were very quiet and reserved people, and being older, their community tasks had already ceased, and now they spent their time strolling around the village, helping just in whatever way they could and warding off evil spirits. 

“They are very wise people,” Rika told us. “If you ever need advice or help, you’ll likely find them at the temple. They take care of keeping it clean and orderly, and often perform rituals for the well-being of the community.”

We were leaning on the veranda of the porch when Rei, the man who’d led us into the village the day before, approached. He greeted Noah warmly and apologized to me for not including me in his tour yesterday, to which I replied that it hadn’t mattered and that I appreciated their concern for me and letting me rest. 

I hadn’t finished talking when a gentle brush against my thigh through the porch bars drew my attention, and as I turned around, I was met with the sight of a curious deer lingering near the porch. Its innocent gaze and delicate features captivated me instantly, and unable to resist it, I walked off the porch and onto the stone path, approaching the creature with a mixture of fascination and wonder.

As if sensing my presence, the deer remained still, showing a genuine trust toward me that warmed my heart. Noah, Rei, and Rika observed from the porch.

“They’re quite friendly,” Rika said, her voice carrying a sense of tranquility that matched the peaceful surroundings. “The children love playing with them.”

Indeed, as soon as a group of children noticed me petting the deer, they joined in, their laughter filling the air as they frolicked alongside the gentle creature. It was a scene of pure joy and innocence, a stark contrast to the hardships Noah and I had faced in recent days. It was hard to believe two days ago we had been sleeping in an abandoned and ruined cottage in the middle of nowhere, with barely any food nor water. 

As the children gathered around, their eyes wide with wonder, I knelt down beside them, the soft breeze carrying the scent of pine and earth.

“Did you know that deer shed their antlers every year?” I began to explain, my voice soft yet animated. “They use them for protection and to attract mates.”

The children listened intently, their fascination evident as they hung onto my every word. I had always been fascinated by animals, my knowledge about them being nurtured by years of education and exploration. Close to my father’s estate there was a deer sanctuary, a haven where Noah and I met each other on numerous occasions, allowing the creatures to bear witness to the blossoming of our love. “Really?” one of the children exclaimed, their curiosity piqued. He must have been four or five. His cheeks were full and his eyes a sweet light brown. “So, does that mean they have new antlers every year?”

I nodded, delighted by their enthusiasm to learn. “That’s right! In the spring, new antlers start to grow, covered in a soft, fuzzy layer called velvet. And as they grow, they become stronger and more durable.”

The children exchanged excited whispers among themselves, their eyes shining. 

Rika watched from the porch, her eyes twinkling with pride at the scene unfolding before her. 

“You’re wonderful with children,” she noticed. 

I glanced up at her, and just uttered a simple “thank you”, not knowing what else to say to that. When my eyes diverted to Noah, I caught his gaze fixed on me with a newfound intensity. It was as if a sudden realization had dawned on him, a silent acknowledgment of the future we might share together.

Before he said anything, Rei interjected, “It’s very hard to keep them still these days. The children, I mean. All they want to do is run around,” he said. “You seem to have a knack for handling them,” he remarked, his tone gentle yet inquisitive, and then, “Noah told me you’re very skilled at archery.”

“A little,” I replied, somewhat confused at the change of topics. 

“She’s very good,” Noah corrected, emphasizing his words with a nod of his head, his words flooding my mind with images from the time I showed Noah my skills and he had been shockingly impressed. I had been sixteen at the time, and I had been able to shoot a 25lb light bow straight into my aiming point at a distance of ten yards. 

“My father wanted me to train in the art of archery from a young age,” I explained, with a hint of bitterness in my voice. Talking about my father would always put me on edge after the events that had just transpired. 

“You could continue your training here, or if you prefer, you could teach the children,” Rei suggested as the deer at my side fed on some grass growing between the stones. “It would be nice to have someone else to instruct them. The current instructor is getting too old for it.”

“Oh. Um—I don’t know,” I was not expecting such proposal less than twenty-four hours since we’d set foot on this place. “I’d have to think about it. I don’t think I’m good enough for that.”

But Noah’s raised eyebrow told me I didn’t have to be so modest.

Rei continued, “I think they would benefit greatly from your experience and guidance.”

“It would be great,” Rika added. “My husband has always wanted our son to learn how to use the bow.”

Rei insisted, his voice soft but filled with conviction, “the children of our community are always eager to learn new skills. I can’t help but think that, if you’re as good as Noah says, your expertise in archery would be a valuable asset to them, honestly.”

His words sparked a flicker of excitement within me, “You really think so?” I asked, apprehensive.

“Absolutely,” he affirmed, his voice steady and sure. “If you have a gift, the children would be lucky to learn from you.”

But alongside the thrill of possibility, a wave of self-doubt came my way, threatening to extinguish the flame of enthusiasm. What if I wasn’t good enough? What if I failed to inspire the children, or worse, disappointed them? I had never really spent that much time around children, much less teaching them something. Archery was a challenge, far from a simple task. It demanded perseverance through frustration, disappointments, and physical exhaustion. 

But as I looked up at Noah again, I saw his unwavering faith in me reflected in the depths of his brown eyes. I found the courage to push aside my doubts and embrace the opportunity before me. With a determined nod, I made up my mind to seize the moment and trust in the strength of my own abilities.

The idea was certainly appealing, and teaching archery to the children would not only allow me to share my skills but also contribute to the community in a meaningful way, something totally different from the future that had waited for me at Ren’s estate if I had married him…

“Well, I... think I would like that,” I concluded.

As we continued our conversation, Rei proceeded to explain in detail how the community worked to sustain itself. Each member contributed in their own way, whether it was teaching skills like archery, gardening, tending to the harvest, fishing, construction, preparing food, or other subjects more related to history, mathematics, and literature. It was a system built on mutual support and cooperation, where everyone played a vital role in ensuring the community thrived.

Rika, sensing her duties calling, excused herself with a warm smile, suggesting that Noah and I explore the town market later. “It’s a lovely place and not far from here,” she added before walking away towards the northwest side of the village. “You can buy anything you need there.”

Following Rei’s lead, we made our way to the Samurai training grounds, where he proudly showed us the disciplined regimen of the warriors just as he had showed to Noah the day before. The purpose of teaching combat wasn’t the same as the one imposed to those born into a Samurai lineage like Noah. While Noah and his kin were bound by duty to bow to authority and dedicate their lives to the service of war, the kids and youngsters that engaged in combat training here at this place did it with the aim of cultivating their physical strength, honing mental discipline, and equipping themselves with skills needed for self-defense, should the need arise. It was a practice rooted in self-reliance and empowerment, rather than obligation and allegiance. 

Next to the training grounds, the archery training fields awaited. 

Arriving there, I was met with a breathtaking panorama of lush greenery stretching out before me, the distant mountains standing sentinel against the azure sky. 

 A its center, there was a row of sturdy wooden targets, each with rings painted in red. Along the periphery, racks of polished bows stood in neat rows, the curves catching the sunlight, and nearby, quivers waited with arrows arranged next to them.

It was truly a wonderful place, even though my momentary admiration was broken by Rei’s next words.

“Why don’t you show us what you can do?”

I frowned.

“What?” Immediately, I shook my head. “No. No, I don’t—I don’t think I’m dressed appropriately,” I confessed, feeling a pang of self-consciousness as I looked down at my dress.

“I’ve seen you shoot while dressed in much less appropriate attire,” Noah teased gently, his eyes twinkling.

It took him less than a sentence to convince me to do anything. 

Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward, my eyes fixed on the bows. I examined them until I choose one that seemed the most appropriate for my height and the length of my arms. My fingers trembled slightly as they closed around the familiar weight of the bow. For a moment, time seemed to stand still, the world around me fading into insignificance as I prepared myself and focused all my attention on one of the targets ahead.

With a silent prayer on my lips, I drew back the bowstring, feeling the tension build in my muscles with eachsecond. And then, with a swift release, I let the arrow fly, watching with bated breath as it soared through the air with deadly accuracy.

The moment seemed to stretch into eternity, the world holding its breath as the arrow found its mark with a satisfying thud. A rush of exhilaration surged through me, filling every fiber of my being with a sense of triumph and accomplishment.

Turning to face Rei and Noah, I was met with looks of awe and admiration, Noah’s eyes shining with pride as Rei’s watched me with respect. Not even my mother had ever shown so much pride and gratefulness in her daughter. 

“Noah was right. You do possess a remarkable talent,” Rei acknowledged. “The children will undoubtedly benefit greatly from the opportunity to learn from you.”

“I would be honored to teach them,” I replied, my voice filled with determination and a new sense of purpose. 

As the soft hues of a sunny morning painted shadows around us, Noah and I set out on our journey towards the nearby town, hand in hand, our footsteps light upon the forest path. The air was alive with the symphony of nature, the gentle rustle of leaves and the sweet delicacy of a birdsong.

It was the first time we walked with my hand clutched in his as two people who were free, although a part of me still felt reluctant. I was so used to the ingrained fear that holding Noah’s hand was a crime that even after deciding to go against all the rules of our society, I couldn’t entirely erase the lingering apprehension. I couldn’t shake the feeling that at some point someone would show up, point us out, and make us pay for the “crime” of falling in love. 

I was aware that Noah was also grappling with similar anxieties, although he had always been more adept at concealing his fears and worries, of course. 

My thoughts were confirmed when, instead of reveling in the liberation of the moment, he diverted our attention to something he had forgotten to mention the night before. 

In the backpack my grandmother had given us, at the bottom of it, Noah had found another packet containing a handful of coins and bills. Enough money to get us out of harm’s way for a while longer. 

With everything that had happened to us in the last three days, I hadn’t even stopped to think about money. For me, it had never been a problem, but by deciding to run away with Noah, I had also decided to forsake a life of luxury in the castles of the royal families, the fortune that would fall into my hands just for being the daughter of a Shogun, or the inheritance that would be left in my name once my parents were no longer here. Noah and I had nothing. No coins to our name, no possessions but the clothes on our backs. It was a cold reminder of the consequences of our impulsive actions —a samurai and a princess reduced to fugitives, stripped of all the wealth and status that had once defined us. 

That just showed how little I cared about money. Still, Noah managed to alleviate some of my unease with the news that at least we had something on our hands, which led me to realize that, in the excitement of setting out to explore the town, I hadn’t thought to take my grandfather’s katana. When I mentioned it to Noah, telling him that I suddenly felt vulnerable and exposed considering we were still being searched for by my father’s army, he made us stop and forced me to look deep into his eyes as he held my face in his calloused hands. 

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to carry a weapon with you at all times,” he said. “Maybe you should have taken it today, in case you were going out alone, but you’re not. You’re with me. Nothing is going to happen, and I’ll make sure that from now on, you won’t feel the need to be armed whenever you decide to go somewhere.”

That was sweet, the way he implied that he would give me a life of freedom and absent of fear, but they didn’t entirely dispel my anxiety.   

“I’ve got mine,” he said as he noted my angst not subsiding, his thumbs caressing the curve of my cheeks. “I’ll keep us safe, don’t worry.”

Attempting to reassure him more than myself, I nodded, forcing a small smile. 

As I started to resume our walk, Noah’s hand clasped my wrist, halting me in place. When I looked up at him, I noticed a special glint in his eyes.  

“What is it?” I asked. 

“I’m aware I told you how beautiful you are mere hours ago,” he began, his voice a quiet whisper in the forest. The way he was looking at me was tender and adoring, the touch of his touch around my wrist a soothing, honeyed sensation. “But there’s something…” he cleared his throat. “I’ve always wanted to tell you how pretty you look in these dresses,” he continued, more confidence in his voice this time. “Whenever I saw you around your father’s gardens, I was… mesmerized. But I couldn’t say anything.” For obvious reasons. “You look pretty. I just wanted you to know.”

I blushed, but despite the embarrassment I was able to stand on my tiptoes and give him a soft kiss, cupping his cheek in one of my hands.

In about twenty minutes, we caught sight of the first houses that comprised the town. Nestled in the center of the picturesque valley, the town was flanked by towering mountains and crisscrossed by a river, likely the same one Noah and I had followed on our journey. 

At the entrance to the town, a stone structure welcomed us, shaped by two vertical pillar and two horizontal crossbeams.

Venturing further, excitement flowing through me as I held tightly onto Noah’s hand, we found ourselves amidst a bustling scene. The narrow main street bustled with activity as locals and visitors alike moved briskly, carrying bags of provisions and exchanging lively greetings.

The air was alive with the aromas of freshly baked bread and simmering rice, wafting from tiny eateries just beginning to open their doors. Though being daytime, lanterns overhead cast a warm glow and added illumination to the cobblestone path below our feet. 

As we strolled along, I was captivated by the sights and sounds that surrounded us. Quaint tea houses adorned with cherry blossoms stood alongside market stalls offering an array of treasures. 

I pulled Noah to a stop when we came across a group of street performers. 

Dressed in elegant kimonos and covered in vibrant colors, a pair of dancers performed a kabuki-inspired dance, bringing to life ancient tales of heroism and love while a skilled percussionist put on display a performance of taiko drumming on massive drums. The music filled the street with thunderous rhythms that reverberated through the crowd. We watched, enthralled. By the time they reached the heart of their act, Noah’s arms had slid around my waist from behind, and I swayed a little with my back pressed against his chest, my hands resting on top of his over my stomach.And as the final notes of music faded into the air, we were left with a profound desire to belong to this place.  

Even when the crowd started to dissipate, I remained tucked in Noah’s arms, feeling a bittersweet feeling inside of me. I could like it here. I could love it. I was already mesmerized by it all, but the reminder that this what at the cost of my parents put a heaviness in my chest that every once in a while made it difficult to breath. 

As always, so perceptive, Noah pressed a kiss to my hair, prompting me to close my eyes and relish the feeling of being there with him, surrounded by people that accepted our love, that allowed us to be. 

Thankfully, the crowd surrounding me serves as a reminder to keep me anchored in the present moment. My life didn’t belong to my parents, and life was not meant to be perfect, either. I could have paradise at a certain cost, and I would take it. I would take this which was standing in front of me, around me, right now. 

With Noah encouraging us to keep exploring, we stumbled upon a small gathering of locals at a fork in the street, huddled together in animated conversation. They were whispering legends that seemed to dance upon the breeze and that kept children and adults spellbounded by the narratives. 

An old man, his face weathered by years of wisdom, was regaling locals and visitors with tales of ancient warriors and mythical beasts, his voice rising and falling like the ebb and flow of a tide. As he spoke, Noah and I listened and exchanged knowing glances. These tales had been our companions in the quiet of bedtime as children and had accompanied us through our teenage years, intertwined with the poetry and literature of our respective educations. 

As the day wore on and the rumble of hunger coming from my stomach elicited a playful comment from Noah this time, we sought out the nearest food stall, its colorful banners and fragrant spices alluring us closer. We approached the stall with hunger, our mouths watering at the tantalizing aroma that wafted through the air.

Noah’s eyes danced with excitement as he perused the selection of dishes on display, his adventurous spirit evident as he selected a variety of savory skewers and steaming dumplings. 

“What would you like to have?” he asked.

“There’s so much to choose from,” I replied, my eyes darting from one plate to another. “Everything looks delicious.” 

 Noah engaged the vendor, asking about a few specific delicacies before making our selections. 

“Would you like to try these? They’ve just been made and are still warm,” the vendor offered, gesturing to a plate of unfamiliar bites. 

“Sure,” I agreed, accepting the bite from Noah’s fingers. His act of feeding me felt intimate and sweet, and elicited a smile I couldn’t shake as I chewed, my gaze locked on his until his laughter broke the spell. 

“What?” I asked, my mouth still full.

“You look like a hamster,” he teased, his eyes alight with amusement. When he attempted to pinch my cheeks, I punched him playfully on the shoulder before covering my mouth with my hand.

But as I swallowed and tried to avoid his excited expression, I was overwhelmed by a sense of completeness. I had never seen Noah like this, so carefree, so happy. I wanted him like this forever. I would take the good and the bad, but I didn’t want anyone to take this happiness from him. 

I vowed to protect this happiness at all costs. 

As the taste settled in, an unexpected sharp sting spread across my tongue. 

“Gods, this is so spicy!” I exclaimed, feeling the heat intensify. 

The vendor let out a little laugh at my reaction. Noah observed my cheeks tinging red, and without letting his amusement fade, he asked the vendor for a glass of water, which the man quickly offered to me.

After my tongue found some relief and I insisted on avoiding further adventurous bites, Noah and I retreated to a quiet corner to enjoy our meal. Our conversation was light-hearted, focused on the scene unfolding around us and the animate characters populating the market street. We didn’t discuss the situation we were still in for we didn’t want to break the spell of this merry morning. 

A while later, hand in hand and with contented stomachs, we continued to wander through the streets, our hearts buoyant and our spirits lifted by the vibrant energy around. We marveled at the myriad of wonders on display. I couldn’t resist stealing a glance at the elegant dresses adorning one of the stalls, which caught the sunlight and seemed to be calling out to me. 

Ever so attentive to my desires, Noah noticed my gaze and suggested we take a closer look. I was initially hesitant, for the notion of indulging in something as frivolous as a dress seemed quite selfish from my part. But Noah gently took my hand in his and told me that it was perfectly acceptable to indulge in a little luxury now and then, that I deserved it, and that seeing me happy was all he desired.

Already feeling content simply walking beside him, hand in hand and basking in his love, I relented, allowing myself to be swept away by the beauty of the exquisite garments on display. I explored the racks of dresses with Noah following my steps. Each dress was more enchanting than the last, and Noah offered his candid opinion and commented on which colors seemed to complement me best, which I found quite adorable. Who would have thought that a Samurai could be so dept at navigating the world of fashion?

Lost in the array of fabrics and colors, my moment of indulgence was suddenly interrupted by the unexpected appearance of Kenzo, Rika’s husband. Spotting us from a distance, he called out our names, drawing our attention away from the dresses and back to the street. 

With a friendly salute, Kenzo greeted us, mentioning that he had just finished selling some rice to the vendors from the nearby stalls while his brother remained in the fields. Curious about our impressions of the town, he inquired about our experience so far, prompting me to gush with cheerful comments about the warmth of the people and the beauty of the place. 

Everything felt so delightful. Such mundane tasks as shopping for food and clothes were luxuries that I had seldom enjoyed during my time at my father’s estate, which made this experience all the more special for me.

“I can’t help but notice that my clothes fit you well,” he pointed out, looking at Noah’s outfit. 

“Yeah, thank you. I’ll make sure to get something else today so that we don’t have to keep borrowing clothes,” Noah replied humbly. No hint of embarrassment. I guess he didn’t care, truly. 

“Do not worry too much about it. The dress looks good on you, too,” he said to me. “I hadn’t seen Rika wearing that dress since she got pregnant.” At the mention, his eyes showed a glimpse of a fond memory, maybe his wife, round with their child in her tummy. “It’s nice to see that we can still give use to things we don’t need anymore.” 

“All the dresses were so pretty,” I said, running my fingers over the delicate fabric of the skirt, admiring its design.  

“She’s got another lot from when she was pregnant. We’re not considering having another baby for a while now, but if you do, do not hesitate to ask her. I’m sure she’ll be elated to borrow you some clothes if you like them. Otherwise, there is a shop down the street, on the left, that only sells clothes for pregnant women.”

While his offer was undoubtedly kind, his remarks about pregnancy and babies only served to exacerbate my internal turmoil. The prospect of starting a family with Noah had crossed my mind on occasion, the image of Noah holding our tiny baby in his long arms, tucking him or her against his chest… I had entertained the thought a few times, but it was a topic I wasn’t ready to confront fully yet. It felt daunting considering the tumultuous world we were living in at the moment. Motherhood could wait for a more opportune moment, when our hearts and minds were truly ready. 

Just as Kenzo was pointing towards the location of said maternity shop, the three of us realized the air was crackling with tension nearby. A commotion was growing, the voices of angry merchants rising in protest over some disputed deal. Noah exchanged a concerned glance with me, then touched Kenzo’s shoulder.

“That doesn’t sound good,” Noah said. 

“Not at all,” Kenzo agreed. 

“Mind if we go and see if we can help defuse the situation?” Noah suggested before starting to leave the clothing stall. 

“No, sure. Let’s go, see if we can be of any help,” was Kenzo’s answer. 

“You stay here,” Noah said to me, extending his arm to grab my hand and give it a gentle squeeze while he smiled a little. “Get a dress you like. I’ll be back in a moment.” 

“Okay, just be safe,” I told him. 

“I will,” he nodded. 

With my heart a little heavy, I released his hand reluctantly and let Noah fade into the crowd, followed by Kenzo. They hurried off towards the source of disturbance, to which I didn’t really pay much attention. I had enough to worry about, and I knew that whatever was going on, would get settled soon, with Noah and Kenzo’s help. 

I let myself be dragged on by the energy of the other people around me, also checking clothes and buying food in the nearby stalls. 

As I stood amidst the colorful dresses, I tried to push aside the worry gnawing at my insides and immerse myself in the moment. I touched the fabrics, marveled at the craftsmanship and attention poured to the details in the designs. Each garment was a work of art in its own right. 

The vendor, a kindly old woman with a warm smile and twinkling eyes, noticed my interest and approached with a gentle curiosity. With a nod of greeting, she began to share stories of the dresses – their origins, the traditions behind their designs, and the meaning woven into every stitch. Her words were like music to my ears, soothing my troubled mind and drawing me deeper into the enchanting world of the shop.

But just as I began to relax into the moment, a strange presence abruptly stopped just behind me, and a chill swept over me, sending shivers down my spine. 

Instinctively, I tensed, my senses on high alert. 

A body pressed against mine threateningly. 

The heat pressing against my back lacked the comforting warmth I felt when Noah was near. My heart raced, and I found myself frozen for a few seconds, staring straight ahead, eyes wide open, my hand still gripping the side of the dress I had contemplated buying.

Around me, people bustled about, occupied with their tasks, chatting with their neighbors and friends as they held shopping bags and carried boxes of produce. As my eyes scanned the crowd panickily, I couldn’t spot Noah. The commotion at the end of the street seemed to have magnified and I couldn’t get a glimpse of his tall frame. 

Even amidst the busy street, fear enveloped me. 

I had no weapons with me, and Noah didn’t know I was in danger. There was no possible way I could tell him that he was, too. 

I was on the verge of screaming when the voice behind me said, “Dare to utter a sound, and I assure you the blade of the knife I’m holding against your side will pierce your skin, deep enough to stain the pretty dress you’re wearing. No one will be able to do anything to stop it, not even Noah. So listen to me: turn around and walk to the alley on the right, and keep going until the end. Don’t stop, and don’t even think about running or screaming for your hapless Ronin to come to your rescue. Understood?”

I didn’t reply, my blood turning cold as my thoughts raced. If I could just be quick enough to grab something sharp from the stall and turn around to attack him first…

The tip of his blade pressed against my side, and a twinge of pain shot through me. I knew the dress was torn, just as I knew there was nothing I could do. 

The lovely vendor that had entertained me minutes ago was now engrossed in serving with another customer, her back turned to me. A lump formed in my throat as I swallowed, my breaths coming in ragged gasps. 

Behind me, the voice sliced through the air as it uttered my name, a dangerous warning dripping from his tone. His wasn’t a familiar voice, but I knew it well enough to know who it belonged to. 

“Understood?” He demanded. 

“Understood,” I replied in a low voice, barely audible over the clamor of the shopping street.  

“Good. Move.”

I turned around, the figure behind me following the same steps, not letting me see his face just yet. 

I turned the corner of the first alley and walked with the tip of the blade pressed to my side, still threatening to slice through my skin. The sounds of the crowd faded away. It wasn’t until we reached a secluded corner, the damp stones beneath our feet and the sun struggling to penetrate the narrow passageway, that the tension seemed to ease if only just a little. 

I cautiously took two steps away from the figure behind me, and then, I turned to face him. 

“Ren,” I said, my voice steady despite the unease that gnawed at me. 

Ren looked just as he had three days ago, when my father had expected Noah to take his own life. Ren wore the same attire, only now it was marred by mud and grime. Fatigue etched lines on his face, and beneath the weariness, simmered an unmistakable anger. 

“Look at you,” he sneered. “All dolled up and parading through the streets as if you hadn’t tarnished your family’s name and fled with a man who’s lost his honor.”  

I ignored his comment. I focused on maintaining my composure, swallowing down my fear. If I could keep Ren talking, perhaps Noah would find me before any harm befell me. 

“How did you find us?” I inquired, my gaze steady. 

“Did you truly think I would grant you the same courtesy as your father and allow you a twenty-four-hour head start to run away with that wretch of a man?” His words cut through the air like a blade, each one laced with venomous resentment.

“Don’t talk like that about Noah,” I shot back, my voice trembling now with defiance.

“I do because that’s what he is—if anything. He took you away from your parents, from your duty as the daughter of the Shogun. From me,” he retorted bitterly.  

“He didn’t take me away,” much less from you, I wanted to say. “It was my choice,” I countered with a rough edge in my voice that betrayed my growing anxiety. “I left because I was not happy with the future that had been decided for me.”

Ren scoffed. “No one is happy with their future, but we take it nonetheless and fulfill our duties.”

“And you don’t think that maybe things should change? That people should be allowed to choose their fate?”

“This is not a fantasy tale,” he retorted, mentioning my name at the end, and piercing me with his cold gaze. “You had responsibilities in your hands, and you dropped them the moment that pathetic excuse of a man got between your legs. Am I wrong?”

I contained the urge to slap him as my cheeks burned. 

“You are wrong,” I said sharply, my chest raising. I wouldn’t let him see my vulnerability. “But entertain me” I continued. “According to me, my responsibilities were that I made sure to choose wisely so that I could secure a future built on happiness, love, and power. Isn’t that what all those tales they tell us as kids say? If you are so sure I did wrong, tell me what my responsibilities were. Tell me how I should have done things.”

I knew. He didn’t have to say. He didn’t have to enumerate them. 

I knew them fucking well. 

But I needed time. I wasn’t certain what Ren was capable of, but the recent threat he imposed on me had sounded all too genuine, and I had a feeling that he would dare to hurt me if as a result he could take me back to my father, even if it was by force.

“Your family is one of the most powerful ones of the province. You are the only daughter of the Shogun, the only heiress to his position and inheritance. You had to respect the order of things, follow your parents’ steps, and marry me.”

I never really like Ren. It wasn’t merely his current presence that fueled my distaste, but rather his embodiment of the quintessential royal archetype—obedient to tradition, entitled, and expecting the world to kneel at his feed and fulfill him with whatever need he had. Ren’s life had been scripted from birth, with every detail set up prior to his arrival. He’d had nothing to worry about. I supposed he had already assumed that I would be his wife one day, merging our families’ legacies to consolidate power across the peninsula. Yet, all those presumptions shattered when I confronted my father and threatened him with his own sword in front of his army while also forcing Ren to return Noah his katana. I had put him to shame in front of the entire province, veneering him of any privilege and igniting a flame of resentment inside of him that he wouldn’t let go. 

I had never found him interesting, either. The times we were forced to meet in my father’s estate or in his, there had never been any connection, not even one that would give way to friendship. It’s also to be considered that by the time I met him for the first time, I was already head over heels in love with Noah. In fact, the first time Ren and I were introduced to each other had been the day after Noah and I had had one of our first sexual experiences. We were still teenagers. We hadn’t slept together, but we had touched each other, our hands exploring those unfamiliar nooks and crannies of the opposite anatomy, attentive to the little noises the other made and the expressions of pleasure that crossed our faces each time we caressed a special place. I had almost died of embarrassment when Ren greeted me, looking at me with that expression that said, “I’ll be the first”, having no idea that he no longer had anything to do. I was still a virgin, but Noah had already touched me, and I wouldn’t let any man other than Noah get his hands on me. Noah would be the first, and the last.

And I was going to keep it that way. 

I felt sorry for Ren, truly, but this was a battle he couldn’t hope to win. I’d sooner face death than live without Noah. It was a truth I’d held steadfast in my mind and heart for as long as I could remember. I would be with Noah, or I just wouldn’t be. I would marry him, or no one else. I would give birth to children that bore the same eye-shape as his and his smile, or I wouldn’t have any. 

“We would have never been happy together,” I said, keeping it simple and practical. I didn’t hold much hope for Ren to understand. Perhaps he believed that happiness was a collective responsibility, one that could be achieved with work and effort, one that could be built the same way you build a house. Or maybe he simply believed that women were not worthy of finding happiness the way I did, by crossing paths with a soldier in her father’s gardens when we were just kids. Of course Ren would have been happy with me, or at least pleased in a way. But I would definitely not have been. Would he have cared? I would never know. 

“Happiness can be attained if you work for it,” was his reply, affirming my suspicions. His ideas aligned with the conventional wisdom: first, you get married, then you toil tirelessly in pursuit of happiness, with no guarantee of success.   

“I don’t believe that’s how happiness is supposed to work,” I replied firmly. “I found happiness without searching for it, I seized it and held on tight,” I told him, referring to Noah. I didn’t have to specify because he already knew. 

“You cannot be referring to that miserable ronin. Do you truly think someone like him is capable of providing happiness?”

“Why wouldn’t he?” I maintained my composure, refusing to be rattled by Ren’s palpable disdain for Noah. “Just because he was born and raised as a Samurai, meant to serve a master, does not mean he lacks the capacity to feel or to please others as he served my father for years, earning his trust as his finest swordsman. You have a misguided perception, Ren, and you’re making a mistake by being here. Noah will notice my absence. He will find us, and I don’t want to witness what he will do to you when he does.”

His eyes widened as the weight of my warning sank in.  

“No,” he retorted, brandishing the dagger and closing the distance between us. His katana was secured at his waist, and I could see his other hand hovering close in case he needed it. “You have made a terrible mistake. You’ve forsaken your life as the Shogun’s daughter for someone who is way below your status. Your future was already written, and you decided to burn down the vellum. What does he have to offer you? He had nothing, and now he isnothing. He’s abandoned the Bushido Code. He’s a ronin now, and he might end up joining the Yakuza. If he betrayed the kingdom, he could betray you.” 

“He won’t,” I said as a matter of fact. “Noah did not choose me for what I had or for my status. He chose me for the things I decided to give him myself—my heart. That’s the only thing I have to offer to him now. I am no longer a princess. I have no wealth in my hands. I only have uncertainty about my future. And yet, Noah still wants me. I know this is difficult for you to accept, Ren, and it was never truly my intention to hurt you, but I’ve been in love with Noah since I was a little girl. He was my first love, and he will be my last.” 

Rage was pouring from him now. It was evident on his eyes, in his expression, in the taut muscles of his body and the veins pulsating in his neck and forehead. His black hair was in disarray from the days he must have endured away from his family’s estate, too. 

In one single step, he bridged the gap that separated us. His hand tangled in my hair, wrenching my head back sharply, eliciting a gasp from me as the blade’s edge pressed against my neck, stinging. 

“Do not speak another word. Whatever he’s done to you, whatever lies he’s spun to persuade you, you are wrong, and someone needs to bring you back down to earth, princess.”

“Ren…” I began to plead, but he cut me off forcefully.

“No! He’s doomed but you still have a chance. Return with me to the Shogun’s castle. Marry me, bear my children, and give an heir to secure the future of your father’s dynasty.”

The realization of his intentions suddenly terrified me. I had always known, deep down, that this was the expectation placed upon royal women. It was the destiny that had been laid out for me. The same one it would be laid out for my daughter. But hearing it articulated so callously, reducing me to a mere vessel for producing heirs, filled me with dread, chilling me to the bone. 

“Ren, you’re hurting me,” I managed to say. Both physically and emotionally. Fear coursed through me. If Noah didn’t find me soon, I would start screaming, consequences be damned. 

“And you think you didn’t hurt me? Or your parents? You think you’re the only one entitled to your pain?” His grip tightened. “You might have run away with that disgraceful man, but you still have a princess complex inside of you. You’re greedy and selfish, and if that bastard hasn’t realized it yet, he will soon.”

“I hope so, because she fucking deserves to be selfish.” 

Noah’s voice cut through the tension like a lifeline, an antidote to cure the poison in my body.

And then, everything happened in a blur. 

Ren was forcefully yanked away from me, the blade grazing my skin as Noah’s strength pulled him back with such intensity that he stumbled, gasping for air. Noah’s grip on Ren’s tunic tightened around his neck, momentarily choking him. 

Ren had clearly underestimated Noah. He had foolishly believed that Noah wouldn’t notice I was gone, that he wouldn’t panic the moment he couldn’t find me among the stalls, wouldn’t suspect that something had gone wrong. 

But Noah wasn’t a fucking prince with a misguided sense of superiority. He was a Samurai—resourceful, cunning, and relentless. He would stop at nothing to find me, no matter where I was. 

Ren was just wrong about Noah in every possible way.

And now he was going to pay for it. 

In a second, Noah had unsheathed his katana, the gleaming blade immediately touching Ren’s throat. Reflexively, Ren extended his own sword towards Noah, the dagger now discarded on the ground. 

“Drop it,” Noah commanded, not an ounce concerned about having another sword pointed at him, “before I slit your throat and drag you to the forest so that the wolves can feast on you.”

“I’m not afraid of you, ronin,” Ren retorted, but the fear in his eyes betrayed his bravado. I could see it just the same as Noah. 

This was not even a battle, and yet, Ren had already lost. 

“You will be when I start cutting every finger that has touched her. I won’t repeat myself. Drop your fucking weapon.”

It took only seconds. My hands had stopped trembling the moment Noah appeared. Now, it was Ren’s hands that shook as he released his katana, his shoulders sagging in resignation as the sound of the blade meeting the ground reverberated in the air. I watched as he struggled to maintain his composure, suppressing the indignation of once again having to bow to a Samurai’s—or rather, a ronin’s— will.  

“If she’s harmed in any physical way, you will pay with your own flesh. If she’s not, you will pay either way.”

After his threat, there was a heavy pause. None of us said anything until Noah, never once averting his gaze from Ren, called my name. 

“Are you hurt?” 

Perhaps Ren didn’t catch it, or perhaps he lacked the ability to decipher the nuances in Noah’s voice as I did. But I heard it—the subtle tremor, the fear. 

Noah was scared. 

Bringing my fingers to my neck, I located the spot where Ren’s blade had pressed, and my breath caught when I felt the dampness coating my fingertips. Looking down, I found them stained with blood. Not much, but enough to awaken the beast within Noah. 

“I’m bleeding.”

In an instant, Noah’s movements blurred with precision and controlled fury. The punishing blow to Ren’s liver landed with the force of a sledgehammer, delivered by the heel of Noah’s boot. With resolve, Noah maintained his grip on his katana, his muscles coiled with a lethal combination of strength and determination. 

The impact reverberated through Ren’s body like a thunderclap, sending shockwaves of agony coursing through every fiber of his being. Gasping for breath, he crumpled to the ground as pain engulfed him in its merciless embrace. 

Through the haze of agony, Ren could barely make out Noah’s figure looming over him, his eyes ablaze with a fierce intensity. In that moment, Ren realized the extent of Noah’s determination to protect me.

I had warned him, but he didn’t listen. 

With trembling hands, Ren reached out in a feeble attempt to plead for mercy, but his words dissolved into a choked gasp as Noah’s steely gaze bore down on him. There would be no forgiveness. 

In the aftermath of the brutal blow, a heavy silence descended upon the scene, broken only by the ragged sound of Ren’s labored breathing and the distant echo of Noah’s heartbeat and mine. And as Ren lay sprawled on the ground, his body wracked with pain, he knew that he had awoken the wrath of a man whose love knew no bounds, and whose fury was as unyielding as the steel of his blade.

“I won’t give you the chance to touch her again, but if you even conceive the idea of doing so, I will make sure you don’t recover from this pain,” Noah declared. He knelt down briefly, bringing himself to eye level with Ren, whose face was red and contorted with agony, hands clutching his own body. “I was once a Samurai. I killed men in battle. But I am a ronin now. I will not hesitate to kill anything, or anyone, that is a threat to her. May this serve you as a reminder that I follow no code anymore.” 

Though Noah’s words should have chilled me, they didn’t. 

As Ren lay writhing on the ground, noah slowly turned to me, his features softening instantly. 

I extended a hand to him, the one free of bloodstains. 

The fear I saw in his eyes disarmed me. 

His fingers gently lifted my chin to examine the cut on my neck. It wasn’t deep, but it would leave a scar. 

Before I could reassure Noah, he slid one arm around my shoulder and pulled me into his embrace, enveloping me in a cocoon of safety. I wrapped my arms around his torso, pressing my face against his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heartbeat beneath his skin. 

We turned to face Ren. 

“This isn’t over,” Ren managed to say, one hand on the floor now, the other one still on his stomach. 

“It is for you,” Noah replied firmly. 

Ren’s gaze shifted to me, ignoring him.

“Your father is not far. When he finds you, he will show no mercy to him. Or to you.” 

I swallowed, but I kept my chin held high. 

“Leave, Ren,” I asserted. “There is nothing for you here. I chose Noah. I will marry him. I will bear his children. I’m here today because I have chosen my future. Me. No one did it for me. There’s nothing here for you to fight for.”

Ren spat on the ground; the action tinted with blood. Noah stood his ground. Eventually, Ren managed to retrieve his katana and rise. I doubted he would be able to bend down again to retrieve the dagger, but I didn’t care. 

“You don’t deserve her,” Ren sneered at Noah. 

“I’m aware,” Noah admitted, “but I’ll spend the rest of my days trying my damnest hard to make myself worthy of her.”

Those were our final words to Ren. 

That would be the last time we ever saw Ren. I didn’t know at that time, and didn’t even conceive the thought because a part of me was actually terrified of what could happen in the upcoming days, in the upcoming hours —but we would never cross paths again.

Back in the bustling street, tucked against Noah’s side and still reeling from the shock, we searched for Kenzo, Noah calling out to him without drawing undue attention from the locals. 

When Kenzo arrived and saw the blood staining my neck, he was poised to rally the community’s trained warriors, but I stopped him. Noah told him what happened and urged him to get someone who could tend to my wound. 

Kenzo led us to a nearby house, just a stone’s throw away. Noah never once released his grip on me.

Ascending wooden stairs to the first floor of the modest house, after a couple of polite knocks, the door creaked open, revealing a diminutive, kindly-faced old woman. Upon Kenzo’s introduction and a plea for assistance, she ushered us inside. 

She asked no questions, directing me to recline on a bed in what appeared to be a makeshift nurse’s room. Instructing me to tilt my neck for examination, she diligently tended to my wound, cleansing and dressing it with practiced care. 

Noah stood never too far, a silent sentinel with arms crossed tightly over his chest, his expression taut with worry. Kenzo attempted to engage him in conversation, but Noah remained reticent, his attention fixated on the street below as he stood by the window, peering out through parted curtains. 

In that moment, it was as though the samurai had taken the place of my lover, and I didn’t know when I was going to get him back. 

“Should we consider returning to the community as soon as possible?” Kenzo asked, casting a concerned glance in my direction, a consideration he had after noting Noah’s suddenly silent demeanor. 

“Yes,” I said softly, aching to reach out to Noah but held back by the old woman’s ministrations as she applied a strange liquid-soaked cotton pad to my neck. “If my father is nearby, they should be informed. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to your com—.” 

“I’ll take care of him”, Noah interjected suddenly, his tone conveying a sense of determination that unsettled me.  

However, it was Kenzo who responded to Noah’s declaration. 

“No,” he said. “Firstly, this community is not just ours, it’s yours now, too. Our sanctuary transcends royalty and government jurisdiction. There’s a higher power at play here, one that protects us. Besides, we’re well-equipped to handle such situations. Many of us come from similar backgrounds. We’re accustomed to defending our own, and you two are now part of our community.”

Noah was not expecting that, and neither was I. 

“You will be all right,” the old lady assured me, redirecting my focus away from the conversation. Her gentle pat on my shoulder offered solace. I was about to reach for my neck, but she shook her head, advising against it. “It will heal just fine but avoid touching it. Keep it clean throughout the day, and it will soon fade away”. 

A soft “thank you” escaped my lips, overwhelmed by the kindness and care we were receiving. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes as I sat up on the bed, seeking out Noah’s attention with a silent plea. 

Finally, he noticed my distress and approached me. His arm enveloped my shoulders once more, while his other hand gently cradled the back of my head. As I wrapped my arms around him, he pressed me to his chest, planting a tender kiss on my hair as I struggled to contain my tears. 

We journeyed back to the sanctuary on horseback, a magnificent creature provided by a local resident keen on making our trip back quicker. Kenzo rode at the front on his own horse. I rode together with Noah, seated in front of him, feeling the tension emanating from his body envelop me. I could sense his restraint in his muscles, on his chest pressed against my back. I could see it at the way his grip tightened on the horse leash, his knuckles whitening. 

Upon crossing the southwest gate, Noah dismounted first, reaching out to lift me down from the horse. As my feet touched the ground, a fleeting sense of relief washed over me, grateful to be within the safety of the community once more. 

However, my respite was short-lived.  

After we secured the horses and made our way toward the main square, an eerie silence hung in the air, contrasting the usual bustle of activity we had found the day before. There were no deer grazing nearby, no children’s laughter echoing through the streets. 

I noticed Rei, Maura, and two others approaching us, their expressions somber, katanas sheathed at their waists. 

“The Shogun is here,” Maura announced. 

The moment the news reached me, I spotted my father approaching us, coming down from the main stone path, his battle armor on, weapons ready, surrounded by an army of at least eight Samurai, flanking him from each side. His stride was determined, and the look on his eyes fierce. 

My heart clenched.

No. I won’t let him get near Noah again. 

I seized hold of Noah’s katana, drawing it from its sheath, ready to fight my father one more time. 

The last time. 

Author's note: I just want to say thank you to each of you that has shown love in any way for this fic. I started it as a oneshot from a random idea i got after seeing a picture of Noah with a katana, and here we are now. I have spent hours writing these chapters and doing research and trying to make my writing as good as it can get, considering the historical aspect of this fic. It means a lot to me to know that you're following Noah's and his princess' journey. I can't wait to share with you the next part very soon and then, the epilogue.

All my love <3

Readers tagged: @thescarlettvvitch | @girlfromrussia-universe | @kankuurohs | @somebodyels3 | @missduffsblog | @respectfulrebel | @badomensls | @darling-millicent-aubrey | @moreyoulove-moreyouknow | (let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part and the epilogue <3:)

[therealandian]

right okay now that i've had a minute where i'm not at work, i wrote a little drabble to go along with this:

Elias stopped dead in his tracks, not quite believing what was in front of him. “Wh—Since when did you get here!?” he demanded, pointing an accusatory finger at his best friend, who was meandering down the street like he'd walked it a thousand times. “We weren't anywhere close to Earth when you left—there's no possible way you could have arrived before me!” After standing stunned for a moment, Jon pointed back with a grin on his face and a twinkling glow in his eyes. Admittedly his eyes always looked like that, but that wasn't the point. “That's what you think!” he laughed. “I just happen to be good friends with an eldritch demigod!” He kept pointing, and he kept laughing, and at this point Elias was just a little bit peeved. “You bastard! Why didn't you tell me you wanted to come back here!? I spent thirty years on my own getting here, and that's barely counting the time travel!” Jon laughed harder. “I've been here since 1995!” At that point, Elias could feel himself beginning to tremble from rage, but he kept it together. Mostly. “This could've been significantly easier for both of us if you'd just told me!”

Jon was laughing too hard to speak. A tear slid down his cheek, followed quickly by another. To make matters worse, he was still pointing at Elias like he couldn't quite believe what was happening. Admittedly Elias was also still pointing, but he wasn't having nearly as much fun. He wished he was—it looked, well, fun! As if things couldn't get more confusing, another figure appeared from nowhere and froze as the light of teleportation faded around him. “Uh…,” said Martin Blackwood. Jon didn't notice; he was busy still. Elias did, of course, and a spike of dread stabbed him in the chest. “Uh…,” he echoed. As if pulled by some unseen force, Martin raised both his hands, one pointing at Jon, and one pointing at Elias. He glanced back and forth between the two as if he couldn't quite wrap his head around what he was looking at. His jaw flapped, but no words came out. Jon clutched his stomach and squeezed his eyes shut, not quite stopping the laughter, but at least getting it down to an uncontrollable giggle. He wiped away the tears. “You should've seen the look on your face!” he cried. Elias finally figured out how to lower his hand and stop pointing at his absurd comrade. “Erm…Jon?” “Yeah, yeah,” he breathed, waving a dismissive hand. “Give me a minute.” Meanwhile, Martin finally figured out how to make his mouth work, and spoke. “What the fuck did I just teleport into!?” Jon peeked up at him, grin widening once more as he wiped the tears off his cheeks. “Oh, hello, Martin! Fancy seeing you here!”

:P

i just want to end this off by saying something important to me: as of 5 days from now (may 29th), redeath will be turning 4 years old which is just. UTTERLY wild to me.

when i first started writing that thing i did NOT expect i'd still be working on it this much later. and the fact that i started on stts in late summer of '21 is just. wow this au has gone on for a while. and i still love it to bits! even now with this i'm still finding new fun ways to get them to reunite (thanks @ike9306 for the idea), and it's just. i have no idea how many iterations of the end of this fic i've gone through but i definitely didn't expect where i eventually wound up lol. i still can't believe i thought 50k was a reasonable expectation for stts XD

so i just wanna say thanks--to old fans who've been here from the start and to new ones who literally just found this today. to the people who leave comments on every chapter, those who occasionally drop one on their favorite parts, and to the lurkers i can't see but know are there. i've had an unbelievably fun time playing around with this goofyass concept, and i'm so happy to see other people have enjoyed it too. i don't know that i would've without the overwhelming amount of excited feedback begging for more <3

we've still got a few chapters to go, but i'm hoping yall will find it well worth the time it took us all to get here (looking at the person who read like. all of redeath and all of stts up to that point in one very long session. you know who you are.)

Commission for @therealandian for the fic "Search Through the Stars". Disclaimer, this is not actually what happens! Go check it out.

Thanks for the support!

[nyx-aira]

Private matters

| Lady Lesso x Professor Dovey |

Summary: Professor Dovey and Lady Lesso are the respective deans of the School for Good and the School for Evil. Definitely not secretly married and having a quickie before their next class starts.

A/N: I'm gonna be posting my fics on here and on ao3 (and yes I've seen your requests and yes I'm loving all of them KEEP SENDING THEM IN)

As I have started to write smut as well please tell me if you don't wanna be tagged in these kind of fics and I'll only tag you in the ones without. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable!

PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

PSA c/@ynscrazylife

Hushed voices and stares followed her, as Lady Lesso walked down the corridor to her fellow deans office. Some evers stared at her in fear and she gave them her most evil smile, as she hurried down the corridor that was way to bright and way to pink for her liking. Her heals echoed on the perfectly polished floors and she knocked sharply on the door to Professor Doveys office before she entered.

Her fellow dean sat behind her desk and was going through some papers when she heard her enter and looked up. Almost instantly a big smile formed on Professor Doveys face and she put her pen away to give the other woman her full attention.

"Lady Lesso what a lovely surprise. What brings you here?"

The witch gave her a sly smile as she turned around, locked the office door and pocketed the key.

"I have some private matters to discuss with you, Professor." She said in a low voice, and slowly walked over to the desk, her cane in sync with her heeled boots.

Lady Lesso leaned her cane on the edge of her desk, and came to stand behind Professor Dovey, her hands on either side of her. A typical teacher thing some of her students would say.

She saw the shivers that went through the other woman's body and leaned forward, her lips brushing Doveys ear.

"Be quiet, my darling, or we'll need to change locations where you can be as loud as you want." She whispered and placed a kiss just below her ear, earning some more shivers from the woman in front of her, who was blushing fiercely.

Clarissa loved this side of her wife, but it always made her blush like a very unexperienced teenager. You could never know what was going on in that woman's mind.

Lady Lesso placed some more kisses on her neck and sunk her teeth into the delicate skin just above her collar bone. This was going to leave some marks, surely. Professor Dovey tilted her head to give the other woman better access and felt a cold hand down her back, where swift fingers tried to find the laces of her corset. Why was this woman always cold?

She felt the tugging and pulling of the laces and smiled as she heard Leono - no Lady Lessos annoyed growl as she struggled with the dress.

"Get up!" She ordered and pushed the other woman out of her chair and towards the couch, that was standing in the middle of the room.

Professor Dovey felt two strong arms wrap around her ways, and a body that pressed against her. Her heart was beating faster and faster as she was pressed against the other woman, who was working one hand along her body opening laces, and getting off layer after layer, while the other was holding her in a firm grip. All the while there were still these dammed lips that were driving her insane as they turned her neck and and the skin that was already exposed into a painting of pink and purple.

Layer after layer of her golden dress fell to the floor as Lady Lesso worked her magic and turned her into a blushing mess before she truly started touching her.

"Couch." She ordered between kisses, and Clarissa all but fell backwards into the mass of cushions that were decorating said lavender couch.

"Oh what am I going to do with you, my darling?" Lady Lesso said with a sultry voice, and slowly removed her coat as she stared at her wife with a mischievous glint in her eyes. Oh what she could do with that goddess of a woman.

The hair was dishevelled, her skirts all carelessly dropped to the floor and only a thin underdress in the same yellow was hiding the body underneath.

Lady Lesso kneeled onto the couch, towering over her wife who was watching her every move out of these innocent eyes that were driving her crazy. She brushed a stray piece of hair out of her face that had gotten out of the elaborate updo, and tucked it behind her ear. She cupped the warm cheek that was so in contrast with her cold fingers and pulled her in for a deep kiss.

Lady Lesso felt a hand dig into her waistcoat and broke the kiss.

"Who said you could touch me, princess?" She asked mockingly and pinned her hands above her head.

"Those stay there." She ordered and began to leave a trail of kisses down her neck and her décolleté, making Professor Dovey sigh with pleasure as she kissed her way down, the thin silk of the underdress not stopping any sensation from getting through.

Clarissa saw her wife settling between her legs, a knowing grin on her face as she pulled the fabric away leaving her completely at the mercy of Lady Leonora Lesso, dean for the school of evil and her incredibly wicked wife.

"Quiet now, love, or do you want your students to know how good evil can feel?" Lady Lesso said before she pushed her legs further apart.

Cold fingers teasingly made their way up Clarissa thigh and she knew how much her wife loved to tease her but now was not the time. They didn't have much time anyway as class was about to start soon and all she wanted right now was for her wife to stop teasing and to make it hard and fast.

"Leonora!" She whined as a finger brushed her for a moment exactly where she wanted it to be, before it went back to teasing her.

"Wrong name, my darling, or do you want me to get the cane?" The woman in front of her said with a low voice and surely must have felt the beating heart of Professor Dovey.

"No, Lady Lesso." She answered, a wave of pleasure pulsing through her. Oh how her wife loved the idea of power play and oh how she loved it as well.

"Good girl."

Clarissas whine turned into a gasp as she felt those cold fingers inside her, burning again the warmth of her and moving in a slow but steady rhythm hitting the right spots and making it very hard to keep quiet as she had been ordered to. Lady Lessos thumb was circling over her clit giving her that extra stimulation that made her want to moan and grab onto her wife. Both things that were forbidden for her.

Clarissa dug her fingers into one of the cushions as Lady Lesso sped up her rhythm and leaned down, making her go crazy even more with the help of her tongue. Together and each on their own they brought her closer and closer to her climax, her legs shaking and small moans escaping her lips.

"Please!" She whined as the pleasure rose higher and higher, her heart beating faster and the heat in her belly turning into an inferno.

She heard and felt Lady Lesso chuckle against her and with one flick of her tongue and the right twist of her fingers she made Clarissa topple over the edge.

She tried to muffle her moans into one of the cushions but she was fairly certain her pleasure could be heard outside of her office as well. Hopefully the students were all on their way to their next classes already. She felt how Lady Lesso pulled her fingers out of her and watched as she sucked the evidence of her climax off of her fingers, the witch staring into her eyes as she did so.

Lady Lesso leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss onto her forehead that was gleaming from the exhaustion and cupped her face again.

"I think we need to practice being quite a bit more, don't you think, my darling?" She asked while pulling the bunched up fabric down and smoothing out the wrinkles.

Professor Dovey reached out her hand and Lady Lesso intertwined their fingers as she pressed soft kisses all over her face. Her wife might be rough sometimes but she always made sure she was well after that. If you didn't know her you would never think that Lady Lesso was one for aftercare but the countless times Clarissa fell asleep in her arms and woke up in her bed, wrapped in blankets told another story.

Professor Dovey got up on still shakey legs and went to collect her skirts, all under the watching eyes of her wife, who had gotten her cane and coat and was now leaning again her desk. Lady Lesso watching her as she got dressed and pinned her hair back in place, feeling the lingering looks and knowing exactly where her eyes went.

"Stop staring." She said as she tied the last of her laces in place and went up to the other woman, and gave her a short kiss.

"Never." Lady Lesso replied and unlocked the door, holding it open and hearing footsteps scurry down the corridor. Well so much on the students being on their way to class.

"Don't worry, darling. They are far to scared of me to ask any questions."

And with these last words and a pleased look on her face Lady Lesso made her way back to her school and to her class.

Oh how she loved driving Clarissa crazy.

-----

Taglist: @escapetodreamworld @midnight-lestrange @ynscrazylife @sokovianheadtilt @wandaswifeyforlifey @scarthefangirl @rxcently @sapphic-stress (btw taglists are open)

[midgardianweasley]

hiii i love your fics so much omg! anyway, i have a request that i've been daydreaming about that haha: nat and r get into a really big fight about smth (anything but cheating pls my heart won't be able to take that) and r kind of shuts down, and wanda & carol become super protective of her and follow her everywhere making sure she's ok. (and they're also glaring at nat any chance they get) but then nat comes into r's room one night and apologizes and they make up and snuggle and its soft hours

thank you so much! and of course lovely! here you go<33

Priorities

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha has been missing date nights, leaving Y/N embarrassed for the final time. When confronted, an argument unfolds, but can they come back from it?

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: some swearing, some self-neglect

Message/ask if you’d like to be added to the taglist! <3

“Another drink, miss?” The waiter in a smart, black tux asked you for the second time this evening, a part of you felt that it was out of pity as you sat alone at a table for two, and had been for the last two hours.

You were supposed to be meeting your girlfriend tonight for date night, you got all dressed up, makeup applied and hair styled perfectly, which had taken forever, only to be stood up. You wouldn’t have overly minded if this was a first occurrence, you would’ve brushed it off and rescheduled for another night. Which is what you had done, two missed date nights ago.

This was your third night of sitting alone in a crowded, candlelit restaurant as couples around you glanced over with a sympathetic gaze, which had only made you feel worse. Your girlfriend should be here. ‘Natasha should be here’, you thought. You looked up at the kind waiter, giving him a gentle smile before shaking your head.

“No, thank you. I think I'm calling it a night.” You spoke as you hurried to gather your things and get out of there as soon as possible, trying to hold back tears that you refused to let fall, not in front of all of these strangers. You hated this. You hated feeling so exposed. So vulnerable. You couldn’t help but feel anger bubble inside of you, thoughts of Natasha being the only thing currently plaguing your mind, most along the lines of; ‘What was her excuse this time?’ ‘Who is she with instead?’, but, there was one in particular that you couldn’t help but focus on.

‘She promised.’

You hadn’t realised you were crying until you were in the taxi, catching a glimpse of yourself in the rearview mirror when the driver had adjusted it slightly to see the cars behind you, in the process, you’d also caught her eyebrows raise in concern and it wasn’t long before she started conversation.

“You okay back there?”

You laughed somewhat bitterly, but it wasn’t towards her. “Nothing I can't handle.”

Your response didn’t seem to settle her worry as she turned quickly and shot you a sad smile before returning her eyes to the road.

“Boy troubles?”

“Girl.” You rubbed your face, trying to rid yourself of any tear stains that may be lingering and messing up your once really pretty makeup. Not that it really mattered at this point.

“Ah, been there.” She held up her left hand, showing you the shimmering diamond on her finger. “The wife and I have had our fair share of arguments and fallouts, some of them included a situation like this one.”

“Crying in the backseat of a taxi?”

“Crying in the backseat of a taxi.” She laughed lightly, making you smile for the first time tonight.

“It had always worked out though, we’ve never been stronger.”

“Congratulations.” You looked towards the woman “I hope I could be so lucky.” You mumbled, though still loud enough for her to hear. You were mad at Natasha, more disappointed really, but you still loved her, dangerously so. She could stand you up for another 50 dates, and you’d still be head over heels. Angry, but your love would never falter.

“I’m sure you will be. If there’s one thing I've learned over the years, it’s that things have a way of falling into place eventually.”

Pondering her words, you looked out of the car window and noticed that you were pulling up to Stark Tower. It wasn’t long before the car came to a complete stop, the woman turning round to you and beginning to speak again.

“You’ll be okay. It’s obvious you love her, okay? Speak to her. I’m sure it’ll be alright.” She looked at you with nothing but kindness in her eyes, which you did your best to return with a smile. You reached into your purse, handing her the money owed, plus a tip.

“Thank you for the help.”

“Don’t worry about it, go get her.” She winked as you got out of the car and watched her drive away, quickly taking yourself inside to avoid freezing to death as the cold wind blew harshly. Kicking your heels off, you set off with one task at hand. Talk to Nat.

__________________________

“Hey, have any of you guys seen Nat?” You addressed some members of the team who were hanging out in the Kitchen, fixing themselves a snack or just conversing with one another. The second they looked up and took in their appearance, you could’ve sworn their faces paled and saddened slightly as if they knew what had happened.

“I think I saw her head off to train a while ago, but I'm not sure if she’s still there.” Carol replied, her face morphing into one of seriousness. She knew about the missed dates, having found you one night looking completely defeated in one of your nicest dresses and heels. She, alongside Wanda, who had found you both later that night, had spent their night comforting you and reassuring you that she probably hadn’t meant it. They didn’t know what to do, they’d never seen you look so sad before, no matter how much you told them it was okay, the pang in their chest for their best friend hadn’t ceased.

You nodded, quietly thanking Carol and wandered off in search for your girlfriend.

It didn’t take long, she was still training when you’d walked into the gym, sweat practically pouring off of her. Your heart softened briefly when you saw her, her fiery red hair tied back into a ponytail with loose strands all over the place, wearing a black t-shirt, grey sweatpants and a deadpan face as she attacked the dusty punching bag with such force that you’re surprised it hasn’t flown off of the chains yet.

She hadn’t noticed you had walked in, still giving all of her focus to her punches. Maybe she just hadn’t heard you?

“Hi Nat.”

Nothing.

“Nat”

All you could hear was the furious rattling of chains, still not getting a response from the redhead. With a sigh, you decided to try another approach. You stepped closer to her, still keeping a little distance, and leaned forward to tap her shoulder, instantly grabbing her attention. She flung herself around, arm still in midair, her closed fist almost coming into contact with your face.

You don’t know what you expected when she turned around and finally acknowledged your presence, but you definitely didn’t expect to be met with a scowl.

“Seriously? in the middle of training? I could’ve hit you.” She huffed as she turned back to her previous position.

“Sorry. I just wanted to come in and talk to you.”

“About?”

You paused, expecting her to look at you again, but she didn’t.

With a small sigh, you continued. “you missed date night again. I waited for you, but you were a no show.”

“Right, yeah, date night” she muttered, seeming to be unfocused as her eyebrows furrowed and her head kept darting around the room, looking anywhere but at you. “I’ll make the next one.”

“This is the third one you’ve missed this month.” You said firmly, wanting her to understand that this can’t keep happening, of course cancellations or rearrangements were bound to happen sometimes, but she’s just not showing up and then leaving you in the dark as to knowing why.

“I told you, i’ll make the next one.” She walked over to the bench, picking up her water bottle and taking a swig of water, looking directly at you, you look back at her and she just looks so, unbothered.

“I don’t believe you, Nat. You say you’ll make it up to me and then I sit there again, hoping that you’ll be there this time, but you don’t turn up. And now I come back and you’re just training. Could it not have waited? Was that seriously more important?” You raised your voice now, all the anger and frustration you’d felt earlier coming back up to the surface.

You just wanted an explanation, or something to justify how she was acting, but she gave you nothing, not even an attempt, only adding fuel to the fire.

“Why are you getting so annoyed? You should know better than anyone that this is my job.”

“I just explained that to you! Which is more than what you’re giving me right now.”

“Okay, fine, forgive me for not making everything about you for a minute.” She spat bitterly towards you, her temper starting to go as the discussion became more heated.

“Seriously? That’s how you’re seeing this?” If you weren’t so unbelievably irritated, you would’ve laughed at her response.

“You’re being selfish. So I missed a date or two, you’re blowing this out of proportion once again, it’s infuriating.” Selfish?

You raised both your hands, as if in surrender. It was one thing to ditch you, it was another thing to then insult you for speaking up about it. With a tight lipped smile, oozing with sarcasm, you decided that you’d had enough.

“I don’t need to listen to this.”

She shrugged her shoulders, adjusting the gloves she’d just put on. “Then don’t, i’m busy anyways.”. This time, you did laugh.

“What a fucking surprise.”. And with that, you turned on your heels and walked out, hearing the echo of punches fill the room once again, every one feeling like a punch to the stomach.

Maybe these are things falling into place, just not the place you’d hoped.

________________________

You were still in bed at noon the next day, unable to bring yourself to get up and face the world. You didn’t need to worry about anything in the confinement of your bed, even more so considering it wasn’t the bed you shared with Natasha.

After speaking, well, arguing with her last night, you went straight to your shared bedroom, gathered some clothes and your essentials, and slept in your old room that you used to stay in before the two of you started dating. It felt wrong. You always spent your nights with a warm feeling of love washing over you as your girlfriend pressed kisses all over your face, tangling your limbs together in the process.

It wasn’t the same. You felt cold, a type of cold that no heating or blankets could solve. You lacked a weight on your waist, fingertips stroking the skin that was exposed due to your top riding up slightly. Instead, the only comfort you had was the small bear you’ve kept for the las year. It was one that Natasha had given you after she won it at the funfair on your third date, and you could never bring yourself to part with it, remembering how happy she looked when she handed it to you, and the butterflies you felt just from seeing her look so pleased.

The bear was a little worn and torn now, it had been ripped in a couple of places, now replaced with a little sewn on patch of material that didn’t exactly match the shade of brown, and one of the eyes had started to fall off, but you liked that it was different. The assassin had tried to offer to replace it and buy you a new one, but you’d always refuse, insistent that you would keep that bear with you for the rest of time. Even now, when the two of you weren’t speaking, you still held onto it with a death-tight grip.

A knock on the door snapped you out of your daydream.

“Y/N, open up, It’s me.” A familiar voice shouted through. Carol.

“And me!” Wanda.

You heard some muttering outside of the door, something along the lines of Carol suggesting they break the door down, immediately being told that it was unnecessary by the Sokovian. Feeling pretty against the idea of having a doorway with no door, you called out for them.

“Guys, it’s unlocked.” You were quiet, but it was clear that they had heard you as the faint talking stopped altogether and you heard them walk in and shut the door behind them with a ‘click’.

Wanda was the first to approach you, kneeling down beside the bed so that she was at eye level with you, pulling the bed covers down a little to uncover more than your forehead. Once she could see your eyes and nose, she sent you a warm smile.

“Hi sleepy. It’s noon.”

“I know.” She frowned when she heard you speak, your voice raspy from your crying through the night. She hated seeing you like this, she loved both you and Natasha, and it hurt to see you so sad because of the woman you adored.

“We should go and eat something, it’ll help.”

“‘M not hungry.” You pressed your head further into the pillow, the last thing you wanted to do was eat, your stomach already feeling like it was twisting with every minute that passed.

“C’mon, i’ll make you your favourite.” the blonde winked, leaning against your wardrobe.

“Your special pancakes?”

“With extra whipped cream.” She sang, playfully trying to encourage you to leave the bed. You had to hand it to her, she knew you too well.

WIth a brief look between the two, you rubbed your eyes and threw the covers off dramatically, sighing and ensuring that they knew you didn’t approve of this. They knew you were joking, even if you weren’t, all they cared about was making sure you were okay, knowing that when you felt like this, being left alone allows you to neglect yourself and get really low. They don’t mind if you dislike them for a little while, as long as you are looked after.

“There we go! Well done.” Wanda stroked your back and led you towards the door where Carol held it open for you.

“No breaking it down behind my back.” You shot towards her, slightly amused at the guilty look on her face as she realised you’d heard her quarrel beforehand. Shaking her head, she nudged you out of the door, and the three of you made your way into the kitchen.

_______________________

Carol had stuck to her promise of preparing a sweet treat for you, a stack of fluffy pancakes sat in front of you, topped with whipped cream and two cherries on top. You ate slow, still a little cautious of how stable your stomach felt. You could see your two friends talk with one another, not wanting to stare and make you uncomfortable, but occasionally looking over silently to check in on you.

You were feeling pretty content as you sat at the counter, munching away with the two avengers for company. It was only when you heard a voice that you could recognise anywhere.

“Hi guys.”

Not daring to look up, you ket your eyes focused on the food in front of you, hoping that if you just stay quiet, you’ll be invisible to the human eye.

“Hey Nat.”

“Hi.”

Wanda and Carol replied, wary of any interaction between the pair of you that could unfold into something neither of you wanted or that would lead to any regrets.

You lifted your head slightly, able to see the daggers Carol was throwing at Nat, not impressed with her being in the room. You both had always been quite close, often talking about life before becoming superheroes that protect the planet, in her case, planets. In the process, she’d found herself having a soft spot for you, wanting to protect you from anything that could bring you harm. Which you were grateful for, but her glaring was terrifying sometimes, you were more grateful for the fact that her powers weren’t in her eyes, otherwise you would’ve definitely become single five minutes ago.

You could see Natasha out of the corner of your eye, she was filling up the bottle she used for when she was training, her eyes weren’t on what she was doing, instead, she was trying to subtly look up at you through the hood of her eyes. You subconsciously took the opportunity to really take in her appearance.

Her hair hadn’t been tended to since you last saw her, half of it was hanging out of her ponytail, most of it falling in front of her face. Her eyes looked glassy and bloodshot, like she had been crying recently and you could’ve sworn that was your t-shirt she was wearing. The sight sent a wave of sadness over you, wanting nothing more than to leap over the counter and pull her into your arms and tell her things were fine, that the two of you were fine. But you stayed seated, too nervous to make a move.

You didn’t know it, but she regretted speaking to you last night, instantly realising what she’d done after she came back to her room to find it empty and half of your stuff gone. She knew immediately where you’d gone and would’ve gone through to talk it through with you, but she didn’t think it would help. She wanted you to have your time and space before approaching the situation.

With that, she tightened the lid on her bottle, sent you an apologetic smile and walked out of the room, leaving behind an awkward atmosphere in her absence.

“You alright?” Wanda asked

“Yeah, yeah no I'm okay. I’m feeling a little tired though, I'll catch you guys in a bit, okay?” You stood from your seat, not giving either of the two a chance to stop you as you walked out and back to bed. What a day.

_______________________

Hours had gone by now and you were back wrapped up under your bed covers, still clinging onto your bear. You hadn’t bothered to change, you went straight to bed after walking in the door. You’d managed to get some sleep earlier, not a lot, but it was something.

You tossed and turned, trying to find any way of being comfortable so your body could rest and your mind could shut off, but it was deemed to be impossible. All you could think about was your argument with Nat, and how she looked so upset earlier. The thought alone triggered the waterworks again, this time, you didn’t even attempt to stop them.

Only a couple of minutes had passed before there was yet again, another knock on your door. You rolled your eyes, really not wanting any more visitors, you were grateful for the help, but you really wanted to be alone.

“Guys, I’m fine! It’s late, get some sleep.” You called out, waiting to hear retreating footsteps, but they never came. Huh. That’s weird? You brushed it off quickly, assuming that it must’ve just been too quiet to hear, which you wouldn’t put past you due to all the sniffling you’ve been doing in an attempt to silence your crying.

You were wrong. The person at your door hadn’t walked away. They also weren’t Wanda or Carol. Instead, it was who you least expected to be in your room at god knows what time at night after the events that had unfolded recently.

“Hi.” The redhead whispered, worrying that if she spoke any louder, you’d be able to hear her voice shake with nerves, or the huge lump in her throat that wouldn’t budge.

You froze on the spot when you realised who it was, not entirely sure how you were gonna play this. Realistically, you might as well just see what it is she wants, it couldn’t hurt, could it?

“Hey.”

Her footsteps were practically silent but still felt deafening as she stepped closer to you, cringing slightly at how tense and forced all of this felt. It was her fault, she knew that, she hoped you did too. She didn’t want you blaming yourself for her actions, although she couldn’t say anything if you did, she was the one who had insulted you and planted the thought in your head, and she felt every fibre in her body beg for you to forgive her.

Approaching with caution, she walked up to the top of the bed, kneeling where Wanda had been earlier, but unlike Wanda, she didn’t reach out for you. She didn’t feel she had the right. Not now. She quickly took note of your eyes and how they were drooping and red, just like how hers had been earlier, which is how she could know in an instant that you had just been crying. She felt like a knife had gone through her chest at the sight, knowing that she had done that to you. She’d let you down so much that it had brought you to laying in bed alone and crying.

You mumbled something incoherent, completely muffled by the covers that were blocking your mouth.

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear you through the cover, could you tell me that again?”

You looked down a little, debating on doing it or just asking her to leave this conversation for another day. ‘But, she was already here, so you may as well get on with it.’ you thought, and with that, you tugged the covers down a little, letting Natasha see your full face now, unable to stop a tiny hint of a smile creeping up on her face. Your nose was runny, your eyes were puffy, and your face was flushed, but that didn’t change the fact that she still believed you to be the most beautiful woman she’d seen.

“Has something h-happened?” You hiccuped, noticing the frown take over her features as she maintained her eye contact with you.

“Yeah. i was a complete idiot.”

“Nat-”

“No, no, please. I want to explain. I need to explain. Please?” She pleaded, not caring how desperate she might’ve looked.

You paused for a minute before sighing gently, nodding at her and giving her a non-verbal go ahead to continue. She took a deep breath, looking away for a second then looking back at you before you could even blink. You could see her hands tremble a little, and while you were upset with her, you couldn’t leave it alone. You reached your hand out from under the cover and held it out to her, offering it for her to hold. She grabbed it without hesitation, squeezing it gently as a single tear fell, gathering the courage to say her next words.

“I have no excuse for what I did. There is nothing I could say that would make my actions plausible or acceptable, I shouldn’t have treated you like that or said what I did, and I understand if you can’t forgive me, or don’t want to. But I needed-, no, I need you to know, I'm sorry. I’m so sorry, Y/N. You deserve better.”

More tears had fallen down her face at this point, her thumb not ceasing in their circular movements on the back of your hand. She didn’t know if this was going to be the last time she felt your hand in hers, so with every circle, she was savouring the moment, no matter how badly she wished it was under different circumstances.

You shuffled a little so you were in a more upright position, hoping that it would make speaking easier. You’d taken in every word, and while you were hurt, extremely hurt, you saw how remorseful she was. Her face showed no sign of humour or like she was lying. You could always tell when she was lying, her eyebrow always twitched a little, which you would always be in stitches about when she tried to say she didn’t eat your last cookie and her eyebrows would be moving like mad. They were as still as stone when she was speaking this time.

“You really hurt me, Nat. I didn’t think I was asking for much, just some time with you, that was all. And you left me every time, for work and with no notice. It was embarrassing.” She nodded in acknowledgement as she listened. “A-and then to come back and witness you being so, so, hostile, with me, I didn’t understand what I'd done.”

She gulped audibly before speaking again. “You hadn’t done a thing. Not a thing. I-I threw myself into work, into training. The last mission, I was sloppy, I wasn’t on my A game, it almost ended up with other people seriously hurt. So I thought-” She took a shaky breath in. “I thought, if I trained harder, It would mean I would be better for the next mission. But I disregarded everything else on the radar, including you, and then I got so mad at myself for it that I ended up taking it out on you instead. You don’t have a selfish bone in your body, and it was out of order for me to ever say so. It was wrong, and I don’t think I can apologise enough.`` She gave you an apologetic smile, tears streaming down her face steadily now.

“You know, when I came home from the restaurant, I had this driver.” You smiled. “Nice woman, she’s got a wife. She was telling me that it wasn’t easy for them. They had their ups and downs, their fights and bitterness. But they always found their way back to each other.” You whispered so softly that if there was any other noise in the room, Natasha wouldn’t have heard a word.

“And, when we argued, I really didn’t think we were going to be able to come back from that. I thought that maybe our time had expired.” You sniffled, your own tears trailing their way down your cheeks. Without thinking, she wiped them away, her palm pressing onto your warm cheek as you nuzzled into it, still finding comfort in her touch.

“I don’t want us to expire, Nat.”

There it was. There was the sentence that turned silent tears into fully body wracking sobs, your hands instinctively going to pull away and cover your face, instead, Natasha brought herself up to sit on the side of your bed, hastily bringing you into her chest and her free hand combing its way through your hair.

She rocked you back and forth, letting you get everything out of your system, no matter how much it hurt to hear.

“Shh, I’ve got you. I’m so sorry, moya lyubov.”

Your sobs soon died down with Nat’s help, sobs turning into faint pants with how tired you were and how much energy it had taken out of you. You looked up at her softly, as she smiled down at you.

“I love you, Natty.” You murmured, the words making the assassin’s heart grow fonder for you, if that was ever possible.

“I love you more.”

“Can you stay with me tonight? I can’t sleep without you.”

“Of course. Anything for you.” She leaned over you, bringing the blankets back up and over you, catching a glimpse of some brown fur among the darkness. She knew exactly what it was. She picked up up with the blankets and handed it to you, happiness overtaking her as she saw your eyes light up at the teddy she won for you.

“Thank you.”

“No, thank you, Detka.” She pressed a kiss to your temple before settling down, holding you tight in her grasp, refusing to let you go for anything or anyone, not that you were complaining, you’d missed this.

Nothing had to be decided tonight, there was no rush for discussion. Sure, there were still things to talk through and work out, but that can wait. All that mattered right now, was that Natasha was there. She was holding you in her arms and you felt every ounce of love and apology she could give you. And that was enough for now.

taglist: @natashas-favourite-knives @wandaromanova @wvnda-maximoff

[sweetestlamb]

Flashlight

Author's note: Wasn't episode 8 just lovely? I just couldn't get this out of my head, they're becoming so dependent on each other. Be still my beating heart. They're reminding me of my MoonMun couple so much and I think that explains my obsession and the amount of fics I've written thus far lol.

Summary: Just for tonight he'll be selfish.

"Are you okay now? Is there someone there?" He moves towards the dark alley that she came bolting from looking as frightened as he's ever seen her. He feels his muscles coil ready to protect her by any means possible. But before he can move she's tightening her hold on him, clinging to him now he can feel her warmth all around him like a blanket.

"No! Don't leave me." Hearing that scared plea causes a blurry memory to resurface in his mind, he can almost feel the words swimming in his mind but the memory is foggy and it evaporates as quickly as it formed.

Strange.

"Okay, okay. I'm not going anywhere. Let's go inside." He starts to maneuver her toward her house at first she moves with him but then she stills, letting out a small sound of recollection.

"My phone." She whispers into his chest, they are pressed so closely he can feel her heartbeat still pounding through her chest into his. He strokes her back in a lazy soothing manner, shocked when she melts into his embrace further. Nothing is making sense at this moment but he doesn't care enough to stop, this.

"What about your phone?" He redirects the conversation and she continues, "I dropped it in there when I ran away."

"Okay. I'll go get it, wait here." He starts to gently untangle her hands from his flannel but she lets out a whine, gripping his shirt even stronger and moving with him.

"I'll---let's go together."

She's trembling now, positively shaking in her spot and he wants to argue with her to just go inside and wait for him but her earlier plea echoes in his ears. He can't leave her alone not right now, so he steps forward feeling her move with him, one step after another until he sees the rectangular object on the ground.

"I'm going to bend down to get it." He can feel her shifting beside him looking around wildly but thankfully no ominous figure appears, they are alone.

After a moment she nods, letting go enough for him to bend and retrieve the device and he checks the screen noting happily that it's not damaged but when he touches the screen it doesn't turn on so he tries again.

"It's dead. I forgot to charge it." She admits, taking the phone from his grasp.

He turns to her with a sharp stare, "You stayed out late after what happened and didn't charge your phone? Are you that fearless?" He chides, frustrated with her lack of awareness and disregard for her safety. If anything ever happened to her he would.... He would.......

"It wasn't on purpose. I didn't realize. I know it was irresponsible."

It's not a response he's expecting, the Hye Jin he knows would argue back, hardly taking shit from him ergo her meek uncharacteristic reply makes him feel worst, he shouldn't be blaming her especially after seeing first-hand how scared she is.

"Let's go inside now, it's cold and you're shaking." They both know the temperature has very little to do with her tremors but she doesn't disagree and carelessly he enters the code when they reach the door, ignoring the jolt in his chest that erupts as he enters his own birthday and the door clicks open. He thought she would have changed it by now.

He's grateful she hasn't.

They both take off their shoes, standing side by side now her arm around his waist and his around her shoulder. It's a small space and they can barely move but they work around it, reluctant to release each other.

"Thank you." Her voice is barely above a whisper, he thinks that he almost imagined it. He had an excuse prepared this time, he was merely patrolling and happened to pass her house. That was the lie he intended to go with, but something in her voice stops him from saying those deceitful words. He's tired of hiding and making up excuses for being around her.

"You're welcome. Here sit down, I'll make you some tea." Thoughtlessly he moves towards the kitchen, taking two steps until he can't move anymore. She's holding onto him tightly, he turns around looking at her small closed fists and then her trembling pretty face.

With a soft sigh, he takes her hand rubbing a thumb across the smooth skin.

"Just come with me." Immediately she steps forward pressing into his back, he tries to calm his heart taking the teapot and filling it with water, then he opens the cabinet retrieving a mug and setting it aside.

"I like honey. And a squeeze of lemon." He smiles at her soft demands.

Now that sounds more like his dentist. The bottle of honey is in her top cabinet and he grabs a fresh lemon from the fridge cutting it in half.

They stand silently as the water boils and he finally feels his anger boiling away as well. Angry that he was almost too late and that his town isn't safe anymore, angry that someone was able to shake this immoveable woman.

The shrill ringing of the teapot breaks him from his impasse, on autopilot he pours the water on the tea bag, then squeezes the honey in the steaming water, "I like a lot of honey." She's attached to his back her voice vibrating straight through him, he freezes when she wraps her arms around his waist. Her closeness is messing with his mind, but he tries to finish his job and get them on the couch maybe with some distance between them.

For his sanity.

"Let's go sit down." He grabs both mugs walking over to her couch, placing her cup on the far right and taking a seat on the far left putting a sea of distance between them. But immediately she sits down right next to him, leaving no space between them she might as well be in his lap. He squirms in place, standing up to get some reprieve but she grabs his hand staring up at him.

"Where are you going?" Fear bleeds into her voice and he lets go of his hesitations, tonight is not about him.

Leaning over he grabs her cup, tugging it closer.

"Nowhere, I'm not going anywhere. Drink your tea."

She blinks slowly at him before nodding and bringing the warm beverage to her lips. Her hum of satisfaction warms him all the way down to his toes.

"It's good. You really are good at everything." He preens at the compliment, thinking of all the times this week he wasn't needed or was cast aside for Director Ji. He's been swallowing his jealousy all week. So her words fill a hollow space in his chest.

He watches her drink the entire cup, ignoring his own growing cold on the table.

"I need to charge my phone." She suddenly says and he stares before nodding, taking the opportunity to drink his lukewarm tea. But then he notices that she's not moving despite having the phone and charging in her hand.

"What's wrong?" He raises an eyebrow in confusion.

She looks embarrassed now, unable to meet his eyes and he's flabbergasted at her reaction.

"Come with me?" He stares at her, feeling the same pride bloom as when she sat next to him instead of her sunbae, she's leaning on him.

He spots an outlet across the room, "Okay let's go there." She looks relieved at his lack of teasing, together they walk over to the outlet and she bends to plug in the charger and puts the phone on the ground.

In seconds the phone comes to life and he feels a sharp pain in his chest as a barrage of messages light up her phone, the majority from one person. When she clicks to open the message he instinctively looks away, not wanting to witness their conversation.

"He messaged so much." Her voice is filled with awe and childishly he moves away. He'd almost forgotten that she didn't actually need him. He was just conveniently there.

"I should go now. You're safe. Make sure to come home earlier from now on, maybe ask him to walk you home." It hurts to utter those words but it's easier than being replaced later, it's okay if he's the one that pushes her away first. "I'll see myself out."

He stands ready to leave, pointedly not looking back before he changes his mind and stays forever.

She was just scared, tonight didn't mean anything.

He grabs his fallen bagpack thrusting it on his shoulder, hopping into his boots all ready to head out. But it's unusually quiet, the silence is so deafening that he can't stop himself from looking back over at her. It's a mistake, a huge one at that. The phone has fallen from her hands, abandoned to the side and she's looking at him with the most desolate stare he's ever seen, moisture pooling in her huge round eyes.

"What's wrong? Why are you cry--"

"You said you wouldn't leave me. Why are you changing your mind? What if someone is still there? What am I supposed to do without yo--u?" Her voice cracks on the last word and his heart follows, she needs him. Nobody else has this week but here she is breaking down because he tried to leave, she needs him.

His decision is made for him in that moment.

As soon as he's close enough to touch she's clinging to him once again, he only absently realizes that she's trying to lead them to her bedroom but even he's not saintly enough for that so he stops her.

"Let's go to the couch. You'll feel more comfortable."

She doesn't question him seemingly happy to follow his lead.

The couch is comfy but definitely not intended for two grown adults, leaning over the arm rest he tries to get situated and once he stops moving she's snuggling into his side curling around him like a cat.

"Whenever I was scared, my mom used to stroke my hair."

He stares at the wall in front of them, wondering if she's aware of just how many lines they're crossing tonight- no catapulting over. But he's tired of second guessing himself so he stops thinking and just listens, bringing the hand that is curled on her shoulder up to her head before dragging his palm down her soft hair, gulping when she moans at the ministrations.

Her breathing starts to deepen and he feels her body losing its tension, she's falling asleep and once she succumbs he can finally make his escape, that's his plan. But he doesn't expect her to start stroking him too, her hand delicate on his chest.

"You've worked hard. Stopping a scammer and saving me all while recovering from a cold."

It's nothing. It's what he's supposed to do.

But it feels so good to hear those words, words that he hardly heard growing up.

"Go to sleep." He says instead of thank you, instead of kissing her like he's wanted to since he saw her outside and she ran straight into his heart.

It's a miracle but she listens to him, drifting to sleep her head heavy on his chest and he knows that he should wait a few minutes and try to extract himself but he can't, not tonight. Just for tonight he'll be selfish.

"You're making me want all sorts of things." He whispers to her sleeping face, terrified of her and all that she makes him feel. Feeling emboldened by their almost kiss initiated by her, he pushes her hair behind her ear taking a second to really looking at her face. She really is that beautiful. It doesn't seem fair. Leaning down he presses a soft kiss to her forehead, her skin is sleep warm and perfectly smooth. He presses a second one shamelessly. Her lips are right there and heavens knows that he's tempted but he can't take advantage, can't bring himself to do anything else. That's enough.

He doesn't know when he fell asleep but he wakes up to Mi-seon throwing a blanket over them, he keeps his eyes tightly shut mentally berating himself for that leaving when he had a chance.

"Just friends my ass. Just admit that you like him, look at the way you're clinging to him."

Somehow they traversed further down the couch in their sleep, both laying horizontal now with her body on top on his and her head tucked under his chin.

"I've never seen her sleep so peacefully though. She looks so young."

He tries not to think too deeply into what that might mean, listening to the retreating footsteps of her roommate and feeling himself losing the battle with sleep. She'll probably be embarrassed to find them this way tomorrow but that's a hurdle for another day.

Just for tonight I'll hold her. Until I'm not allowed to hold her anymore.

[m-aster-of-spinjitzu]

orange and gold

...I just need more Cole and Vania content, they seem like they'd be great friends.

Basically it's just 'Cole goes to visit her there, they almost burn down the kitchen, and make way too many puns', lol.

Set a few months after Master of the Mountain, but before Seabound or The Island.

Also yeah, I couldn't think of a better title, sue me- I just know that they wear one of the colours at some point, so... 🤦‍♀️😂

Trigger warnings: none I think? Huh-

Also, bingo!! I really need to learn better time management, dear freaking gosh- I hope I'm not too late though? I know it's like half a day late, eek- and I was supposed to post this earlier, but I ended up literally falling asleep while writing it😂

Thank you so much Fabro, for hosting such a cool event!:D Your comments on my fics literally never fail to make my day<3. And I'm so glad that I met so many awesome, really skilled people through this event too - it's been a lot of fun working alongside y'all:D, I wish I'd had more time to interact instead of posting stuff and vanishing lol, but exams be like:////

Prompt: cooking (does baking count as cooking? I realized too late lol-) from @ninjago-bingo 's warm board.

Word Count: 2497

---

Trying to escape from killer dire-bats hadn't been on Cole's to do list today - although the mountains were kind of beautiful.

It was a bit difficult to see them while he was being dragged to his death, but hey, didn't Jay always tell them to be more positive?

That was, until he made the mistake of looking down.

Miles of snowcapped mountains touched the pastel blue sky, but he was more focused on exactly how high he was from the ground.

Great.

Trying to swing back onto the Bounty, he didn't notice a golden-winged blur shoot past the bat, almost dropping their spear in haste.

"Let my friend go, or I'll-"

"Vania?"

She throws the spear at the bird, successfully knocking one of its wings.

Huh. She must've been practicing - throwing with accuracy while flying seemed kinda difficult.

"I'm so sorry!" she replies, grabbing his arm before he fell down too. She winces at the strain on her wings, almost dropping him onto the deck. "I was supposed to come earlier, but there was an issue with one of the mines, and it took forever to-"

"There ain't anything in this world that's managed to kill me yet," he replies jokingly, checking that the autopilot hadn't been damaged. "I doubt an angry bird is going to be the first."

"Didn't you mention that you became a ghost once? Pretty sure that means you were dead-"

"Shh, that's not an important detail," he jokes.

"If you say so," she replies with a grin. "Did I mention that Chompy's been tearing down the palace flower arrangements again?"

"Send my regards to the gardener-"

"Did you just make a pun?"

"Remind me why I decided to visit you again?"

"Because you love me?" she asks stepping onto the ground as the Bounty landed gently.

"I hereby crown you as my platonic soulmate," Cole deadpans, taking her hand. "Vania and Cole-"

"Destined to annoy each other for eternity," she giggles, swinging their hands up and down. "But seriously - thanks. I don't think I realized how much work being a queen was."

"What's it like?"

"I mean - I'm glad that people trust me, and they come to me if they have a problem, but the paperwork is a nightmare. I never get to go outside anymore, I swear."

"Paperwork? Also, you just invited me here for a week. I don't wanna disturb you?"

"Nah, I cleared my schedule, don't worry. And trust me, you don't want to know. Everything requires some sort of official written thing, and it's so boring-"

"Official? But you're the queen?"

"Well, yeah, but I don't really want to change something unless it benefits the people. Not after..."

Her smile dims, eyes straying to the palace walls.

Oh- oh.

"You're nothing like him," Cole says firmly, squeezing her hand. "I mean, if you need to take a break, or you can make your job a bit easier by cutting out something unnecessary, that's just gonna help you become a better queen. You've definitely got the interests of your people at heart, and that's the most important thing, you know? And well, uh, everything seems to be going great so far - you don't have to beat yourself up over someone else's mistakes."

"Thanks," she replies softly, her smile slowly returning. "Speaking of breaks, what do you think we should do this time?"

"You could show me around the city again?"

"You've already seen everything cool," Vania giggles, skipping ahead of him. "We don't renovate much - unlike you guys-"

"Hey, it's not our fault that our city gets destroyed every few months-"

"More like every few days," she teases, tying back her golden hair. "How about we find some dragons to adopt?"

"Tempting, but where would you keep them?"

"They could sleep in my room-"

She breaks off when she notices him laughing. "What?"

"N- nothing," Cole replies, in between laughs. "Jay and I just made a bet."

"On what?"

"How many dragons you've adopted. I bet at least six, he bet fifteen."

"Well, jokes on both of you - I'm pretty sure my advisor's going to throw a fit if I show up with another one," she starts, giggling. "We've got twenty living in the palace right now."

"Twenty dragons?"

"They're so cute! You just look into their adorable little eyes," Vania pauses for breath, continuing her animated gesturing, "and you can't help but wanna hug them!"

"Oh, Jay's going to be so mad."

"Aww, I'm sorry guys. They're just too adorable!"

"...Wanna hear a funny story?"

"Yeah, sure!"

"I actually used to be terrified of dragons-"

"No way!" Vania exclaims. "Y'all have been on a lot of adventures though, so-"

"Nah, we used to have our own dragons at first. They were pretty cool! I just- I'm a simple guy! Huge animals with wings are scary up close when you're barely a teenager."

"Or when you're really short-"

"We're the same height!" Cole exclaims, facepalming in a bit of a fondly exasperated way.

"I'm two years younger than you-"

---

"Ugh, whose idea was this?"

"Yours," Vania grins, sitting down on the kitchen counter.

"You were supposed to help me, not leave me high and dry!" Cole accuses jokingly, staring at all the appliances they'd found in the cupboards.

"'One must always be prepared for new adventures,'" she quotes seamlessly, waving one of- what was his name again? Mulch something? Oh! Clutch! Some explorer he was, leaving them to die in the pyramid - Clutch Powers' books in the air.

"Fine," he sighs, staring at the old recipe book she'd found in one of their back cupboards. "But you've gotta help me? I almost burned down-" "Woah, what? If you finish that sentence with 'kitchen'-" "In my defense, Kai was playing a prank on me-" "In my defense, I wouldn't like to explain how the queen of Shintaro burnt down the palace by teaching one of her friends to cook," she grins, flipping through the pages. "What do you wanna start with?" "Something simple?" "Have you ever tried baking bread before? It's a lot of fun!" "I haven't really had the time, but that sounds kinda interesting."

He skims the recipe, raising his eyebrows. "Wait, why does this take hours? I thought you said it was simple?"

"Trust me, it is," she laughs, adding, "besides, I still wanna hear about all your adventures!" "Uh... okay," Cole replies hesitantly, "but if this fails, I'm so sorry." "Give yourself some credit, you guys literally saved the world! Multiple times!" "Bold of y'all to assume we know how we did it," he laughs, only half-kidding. "Besides. I botched soup once."

"I've botched toast," she mock-sighs, smiling. "Pretty sure that makes us even."

"Lemme get this straight. You've messed up toasting bread, but you can bake it from scratch?"

"Trust me, I don't know either," she giggles, trying to open a brightly coloured packet of... something? Did flour come in packets that small?

"Uh, why are you opening something called 'feast'?" he asks, eyebrows creased in confusion.

"Feast," she echoes, trying to stifle her laughter. "Off to a... rocky start, aren't we?"

It took him a second.

"I already regret this," he jokes, facepalming. "But I'd say that your puns are, uh, gold."

"I've un- unleashed-" breaking off, she half-falls off the counter, laughing so hard her face starts to go red, "a monster."

---

"Uh, is it supposed to look like that?" Cole asks, frowning.

The mixture looked less like the dough he'd been expecting - more like one of Jay's inventions gone wrong.

Badly wrong, he thought, eyes widening at the goopy mess of foam that threatened to spill over the jug.

"The yeast?" Vania echoes, poking her head out of one of the cupboards. "Yeah, all good! It always looks a little gross, and you're gonna doubt ever eating bread again, but at least it doesn't taste like it's fermented-"

"It's what?"

"Yeah," she grimaces, exaggerating her disgust a bit. "If aliens ever fell from the sky, they'd think we were crazy for eating bread-"

"Aliens? I think we're a bit crazy!" Cole exclaims, trying not to laugh.

Vania smiles, then sighs, lugging a huge bag of flour onto the counter. "I can never open these bags properly," she starts, eyeing the the bag a bit warily, "and it always makes such a huge mess all over the kitchen. You'd think they'd make it easier for people to use, right? I swear-"

He jokingly puts his hands over his ears. "I can't hear you!" "But you know that I've sworn off swearing-" she replies, breaking off with a laugh. "Pun not intended - that actually made sense in my head. I swear!"

"No," Cole interjects with a grin, shaking his head. "You don't, remember?"

"See, this is why we're friends-"

"Friends? Is that all I am to you?"

"Oh, be quiet," she shoots back, exaggeratedly dragging a hand down her face. "I mean, sure, just because everyone thinks that we're dating doesn't mean that we-"

Wait. What?

"People think that we're dating?" he asks, clamping a hand over his mouth in a poor attempt to muffle his laughter. "I- I- really?"

"I know, right?"

"Even my friends thought so at first," he confesses, dragging a hand down his face. "I mean, as much as I love you-"

"I love you too," Vania replies, completely seriously. "Even if you'll always be more like an annoying-"

"Hey-"

"Sibling to me than anything else," she finishes, grabbing a pair of scissors. Cole watches, a little alarmed, as she stabs them into the flour bag over and over.

"Is it... supposed to be this difficult to just open the bag? Seems kinda stupid-"

"Well, er, they have this piece of paper with glue that you're supposed to pull away from the rest of the bag, but it never works properly and I-"

"Well, we could always make our own flour," Cole interjects, laughing. "I mean, I've got a scythe? Let's go!"

"Uh, but we don't have wheat growing here. I don't think it'd suit the climate very well?"

"Wheat a shame," Cole sighs jokingly, measuring out the flour (which had, finally, escaped the bag).

"Oh my gosh," Vania deadpans, "you did not just-"

"Yep, I did."

"You're horrible," she giggles, "then again, I was the one who started this whole debacle, so I think we'll share the blame."

"Debacle? Where'd you pick that one up from? Sounds kinda cool-"

"Oh, it's from a book someone wrote about you guys," Vania says casually, pouring a cup of water into the bowl.

"Hey, uh-" Cole starts hesitantly, twisting his fingers back and forth, then breaks off. "Why'd you read all that stuff about us, anyways? Adventure books don't really seem like something you read a lot, since we have similar favorite books. I mean..."

"Well, um..." Vania trails off, clearly uncomfortable. "Uh- I guess, well, it sounds kinda stupid, but I'd never really met anyone my age who wasn't a royal or something. I... er, I didn't want to be left out, you know?"

Cole thinks back to a scroll; a quest, a sacrifice. One that his friends never seemed to really notice, unless it was with horror or flinches. Not that he blamed them, but - joking about how he was much more useful to the team when he was freaking dead than he was before he'd stumbled and fell in the temple?

That had been a bit far, even for his best friend. Locks could always be picked or something, he didn't need to be a ghost to provide some sort of value-

Well, that's not completely true, is it? a small voice questions, and he can't keep his hands from shaking a little.

"Jay here thinks you're the least valuable ninja."

Not enough to be a performer. Now, not good enough to even be a ninja, apparently.

Well, he reminds himself firmly, you don't have to be the best - just stand up to those who are cruel and unjust.

Nothing but a scar that glowed warm orange occasionally left of the whole Cursed Realm ordeal, sometimes it was all too easy to forget - or pretend - that it had never even happened in the first place.

Other times, like when he'd dropped a glass of water on the floor and his hands hadn't stopped shaking for hours, or when he woke up screaming, expecting to fall through his bed again, it still felt like he was trapped as a ghost. Literally - and maybe a little figuratively as well.

Yeah. Yeah, I know.

"Thanks for trusting me with that," he replies softly. "And I'm sorry. That sounds... horrible, but, honestly, you're a pretty cool person, and I ain't just saying that because we're friends. People can be awful, and they can- they can leave, but you don't need to pretend to be someone you're not for people to accept you. I kinda know what it's like, and it's... just, uh, not great."

"No, thank you," Vania says, rubbing her eyes. "You're pretty cool, too. And I'm glad that we become friends, even if wasn't in the- the, er, greatest circumstances."

"Right back at ya. The fall was pretty terrifying, though," Cole says casually, as if memories of that nightmarish plunge into the depths of earth don't still send shivers down his spine.

"No, definitely! I was so sure we were gonna splat onto the ground or something, thank gosh we didn't."

"Yeah..." Cole trails off, reading the recipe they'd been following. "Oh- do we just leave the bowl somewhere for a few hours now?"

"Oh, yeah," Vania answers. "Other than clean up the kitchen, what else do you wanna do?"

"That's kind of you, but, ah, I don't mind. You can choose something."

"I don't mind either," she replies, covering the bowl with a dishcloth. "Seriously, I don't."

"Same here though."

"Really, I don't mind-" Vania breaks off with a laugh, adding, "Well, actually, there is something."

She doesn't elaborate, thoughtfully gazing out the window.

"Well, what is it? Don't keep me in the dark."

"Ugh, it's kinda stupid-"

"I'm sure that it's not- well, unless you want to try to jump off a flying ship with a homemade parachute to prove a bet to someone-"

"Do I even wanna know?"

"...uh, probably not. We're way too crazy sometimes, our Master has a hard time keeping us in check. Your thing, though?"

"Can I give you a hug?"

Cole blinks for a second, expecting some sort of punchline.

"That's your thing?"

"Well, yeah- I mean, I said it was kinda stupid-"

"No no, that's not what I meant. You're so sweet - that's all."

"Well, not more than you-"

"Nah, you're sweeter-"

"Let's just call it a tie," Vania says with a smile, reaching over to give her friend a hug. "Thank you so much, I swear- well, no, I don't, but you know, anyways-"

"Yeah," Cole replies, laughing softly. "I know."

[waynewifey]

A dream of you and me—

soulmate!au

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: In a world where a dream means something more, trying to save the boy from your dreams can change your life.

Warnings: angst, crying

Words: 1900.

A/N: Thank you so much for the amazing feedback on my last fic! I’m sorry it took me so long to comeback, please remember that my requests are always open! I hope you like this.

I've always liked dreaming. It's the moment of the day where I'm taken to a random place with random people to live a priceless adventure. Tonight I dreamed with a boy. Well, I was the boy. We were running through the Hogwarts corridors, but somehow no one saw us. It was like we were invisible. We ran up to the bridge, staring at the moonlight. He was sad for an unknown reason, I could feel it. I saw his black locks blocking the vision when it winded. I've never seen his face before, but, somehow, he felt like... home. He let out a deep breath and I heard some footsteps approaching. Suddenly, the image became blurred. I let out a gasp, waking up. I stared at the ceiling for a moment, before opening my curtains, looking around and noticing it was still night. I got up and walked to the biggest window in the room. The moon looked exactly like the one in my dream. Maybe it is happening right now, I thought. But that was impossible. Well, not really impossible, more like improbable. The soulmate link was a very rare occasion. One would dream about the day or the moment the other were living for days or years, until they meet and recognise each other as soulmates. But they wouldn't see faces or hear voices, so that turned the meeting more difficult and rare. I've never met soulmates beside the ones in fantasy books.

The morning after, I woke up earlier than usual, as I could barely sleep. I got ready quickly and ran to the Great Hall. I was looking for someone who looked like they haven't slept properly, someone who may be up all night. But, to be honest, all seventh graders looked almost dead, thanks to the exams. A red head sat beside me, putting some books on the table.

"I have something to tell you." I immediately said.

"Not even a 'Good Morning'? Fine then. What is it?" Lily Evans replied. I rolled my eyes at her, beginning to speak.

"I dreamt with someone. I know it's rare but I really think it may be... that." She looked disinterested, picking her food. "Lily, I'm serious! It felt so real! And I could feel his feelings too! What should I do?"

"There's nothing to do yet, I guess. You'll have to keep dreaming and collecting clues. But maybe you could forget about it and help me with my charms assignments." She bit a piece of bread and I gave her an yellow smile. By the corner of the eye, I saw a group of boys approaching.

"Or you could ask your pain in the ass boyfriend." She scoffed, turning around and smiling at James Potter, whom were now sitting beside her, embracing her back with his arm and laughing loudly about something I didn't knew. Remus Lupin sat on my side, as usual. He was the only tolerable one in the group. He often helped me with my studies, but our relationship was very far from a friendship. Other two boys sat in front of us.

The day went by normally. Too many classes for my last two neurones. I was exited to go to my dorm and sleep, to test my theory.

I could see the dark sky and the Whomping Willow. A rat ran to the roots of the tree and pressed a small knot. The tree stoped moving. We dove into a hole next to it. After a long time walking inside of a tight tunnel, we arrived at the gardens of a house. The Shrinking Shack?! What is he doing here? We entered the house and walked to what looked like a living room. I watched as a gigantic creature approached. Some kind of wolf, but it was standing in two legs. It's arms were thin. It was looking a bit... tired? I analysed the beast carefully. A werewolf! Why was he around that monster? He was in danger!

I jumped out of  bed, running to get my robe and my wand. I left the dorms, running to the Castle Grounds. The wind was extremely cold, but I kept running. I searched for the knot on the Whomping Willow. After a few times being thrown in the air by the tree, I finally got to the secret hole. It seemed like it took me forever to get to the house. I heard a howl and a growl, which made me desperate to find my soulmate. Would he even be alive by now? I came across a bizarre scene. A werewolf, a huge black dog, a stag and a mouse – the mouse in my dreams – all laying on the floor. The werewolf turned its head to me, growling at me. The dog jumped, getting in front of me. Where was my soulmate? The werewolf tried to attack me, but the stag got on its way. They were protecting me? Why? The dog barked at me, getting my attention. He ran to the exit door, turning his head back at me, as if he were calling me. I followed him. I ran to the gardens, but the dog was gone. Suddenly, a boy came out of behind a tree, wearing a black fur robe. I annalized his face in the moonlight. I recognised his black locks from my dreams. Sirius Black.

"What are you doing here? You need to go back to the castle right now." He said, eyes not focusing on me and ears on alert, still taking care of whatever was happening in the house.

"What are YOU doing here?! Did you know that is not a regular wolf, but a werewolf?! And if it bites you-"

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Now, you. Leave." He cut my speech, making me roll my eyes.

"I can't let you die! Every night I have these dreams, you're always getting yourself in trouble and-"

"You dream with me? You saw Moony?"

"Yes, Black, keep track. Stop interrupting me. Wait, who's Moony?" Sirius looked around, getting closer and lowering his voice, like he was about to tell me a secret.

"Remus Lupin. He's a werewolf. The stag is James Potter. I'm not sure if you've seen it, but the rat is Peter Pettigrew and... I'm the dog. Yeah, yeah, woof. We're animagus. Remus is under control... well, kind of. But it's still not safe for you and I need to take you back to the castle." I was stunned when he grabbed me by the elbow and made me walk all the way back. My thoughts wouldn't process, my mind was a mess.

"You're supposed to drink the tea, not stare at it, you know?" Sirius said, his voice echoing in the empty common room. I blinked for the first time in a while. I took a last look at my teacup, glancing upwards. I stared at his obsidian orbits, frowning my eyebrows trying to figure out what to say. Sirius Black was my soulmate. This guy I've never really talked to before, whom I know practically nothing about, and now I discover he's an illegal animagus, friends with a werewolf and will probably reject me so badly the angels will pity and and let me escape from hell. Because I made it quite obvious by telling him about my dreams, and he ignored it.

"I dreamt about you, you know what this means, right?" I couldn't keep the eye contact for long and quickly went back to staring at my tea. I moved in the couch to a more closed posture.

"Yeah, I understand it just fine." He said. I couldn't figure out his emotions by the tone of his voice, so I looked at him. His expression was as neutral as his tone, not helping me at all.

"Oh, okay. I wasn't expecting this." I rested my cup on the coffee table in front of us, getting up. I felt a slight spark of anger inside of me, starting to burn everything. He scoffed, leaning back on the chair. "Well I don't like that either! It's just- It seems unfair to condemn me to literal hell just because you're not happy about me being your soulmate!" The words bursted out of my mouth without a previous warning, tears forming in my eyes. I had waited for so long to see if I had a soulmate and he just scorn me like that? "I'm sorry if I'm not what you expected, but this isn't my fault!" I blubbered, gathering all the small amount strength that kept me on foot to turn around and walk away. But before I could do so, his arms embraced me in a harm and desperate hug. The smell of his hair made me dizzy, and I could honestly live there.

"I never believed in this. I never thought fate would bring someone to keep company to a person like me but- seeing you cry made my heart ache... So please stay. I don't care if we're soulmates or not, I just... need you here."

Epilogue — 3 years later.

I finished mixing the coffee and placed it at the silver tray. I took a final look: scrambled eggs, fried tomatoes and mushrooms, and bangers — it all looked delicious. Not the kind of thing I was used to do, but I definitely am good at it. I walked to our room and opened the door. He was in the same place he was when I left earlier: the bed. I put the tray on the nightstand, preparing myself to wake him up. I sat beside him, staring at his unique features. The sunlight coming through the curtains lightened his nude torso and I got myself admiring his skin.

“Breakfast in bed? Who are you and what have you done to my girlfriend?” His husky morning voice, massaged my ears. “Fiancée, actually.”

“Well, I thought this was a great way to celebrate your first day of work and our three year anniversary.” I kissed the top of his head as my hands danced around on his curls. “But don’t get used to it, you’re the cooker in this relationship.”

“I love you, Y/N L/N Black.” I stared down at his face. The same face of the boy I fell in love with, a long time ago, and I remembered the first time we kissed through sobs and hugs. This was when I realised I loved Sirius Black more than anything in the world and I knew we were forever. I smiled at him and kissed him passionately.

“I love you too.” He smiled widely at me and pulled me to under the sheets, throwing my apron across the room. “You’ll be late, Siri.” Sirius rolled his eyes at me and got on top of me.

“I have more important matters to deal with right now.”

[squadrablog]

ok I've joined the Ghiaccio hype train, could I request a Ghiaccio fic with a reader who doesn't like sudden loud noises and will definitely cry if you yell at them? they're really intimidated by Ghiaccio but they're comfortable with the rest of La Squadra, so he's struggling to be a good team member to someone who's always nervous around him. feel free to make it romantic or platonic, your writing is amazing!! 💕💕

Here you are! With the stuff I ended up focusing on I thought that shoehorning a romance in would feel weird, so I focused more on exploring the beginnings of a platonic friendship with him. Lots of awkward Ghiaccio and miscommunication but it all ends up good. :^)

Ghiaccio & Reader (platonic, gender neutral)

Ao3 Mirror Here.

Word Count: 3921

Warnings: Reader has childhood trauma w/ loud noises, not gone into in depth. Assassination job implied but doesn’t happen in text.

Under cut for length!

The last thing you saw yourself doing with your life was becoming an assassin, but here you were. You were a tough kid, scrappy and resourceful when it came down to it, but only because you had to be to get by. You always thought you’d eventually leave that old life behind. The gunshots echoing into the night from rival mafias squaring off to claim the neighborhood you lived in as their territory. The shouts from the man who took you in when you had nowhere else to go, only to berate you when you failed to pick enough pockets to meet his quotas. The way the older and meaner children would torment you, taunt and deride you, whenever you let your vulnerability show.

And you had, more or less, left those parts of it behind at least. When you joined Passione as a last ditch effort to survive you were given a sense of stability that you had never had before, and after initiation when your stand manifested as something powerful and deadly, it didn’t take too long for you to get placed into La Squadra di Esecuzione, Passione’s team of elite assassins. 

As a stand user working with other stand users you rarely relied on guns to get your work done. You were no longer struggling to get by, and although your new Capo held his team to high standards he made sure you had ample training and was patient with you while you were still getting your footing. All your teammates were surprisingly supportive; even if they were wary of outsiders, when it came to their own family they looked out for each other.

It was a dangerous life, not without its own anxieties, but it was a much quieter life. It was a life in the shadows, with a roof over your head, with work that allowed you to use stealth and silence. Even if you couldn’t exactly say you were thrilled about being an assassin you were at least surrounded by people who genuinely cared about you now, watched over by a man who never raised his voice at you for things outside your control, and most comforting of all: you never needed to use a gun.

Not all loud noises set you off, just the ones that reminded you of the violent instability of your childhood and the cruelty of your guardian and peers. Your new teammates could get pretty noisy and spirited, but the boisterous and jovial nature of their laughter, even from their more intense teasing, was a comforting change of pace. You didn’t doubt your value or the fact they respected you.

Well, mostly. There was one teammate who was a bit harder for you to let your guard down around.

His name was Ghiaccio, and to say he was loud would be an understatement. When you first met him he had been a bit standoffish, but so were Risotto and Prosciutto. You knew it would take some time for everyone to accept you as a real part of the squad, and you were ready to be patient. But as you quietly observed everyone for those first few weeks, getting a feel for their individual personalities and their dynamics with each other, you found yourself very intimidated by Ghiaccio. He was able to pal around with the rest of them, even if he was gruff as a default, but when something upset him it was like a switch had been flipped.

He was critical of his squadmates’ performance out in the field, and he never hesitated to offer his critiques regardless of how little anyone wanted to hear them. He was critical of the way people talked, constantly nitpicking everyone’s pronunciations and word choice. He was critical of the way that chores around the house got done, judging everyone’s efforts by timeliness and thoroughness.

Everyone was able to brush him off most of the time without problem. When they actually valued what he had to say they never seemed to take the mean way he said it personally. They’d had plenty of time to get used to him and sift through the bullshit. They knew when something actually mattered to him and when something was just him blowing off steam for the sake of it. They knew when it was fair to ask him to shut up and when it was best to let him get it out of his system.

You steeled yourself as best as you could in those first few weeks, just telling yourself you needed some time to understand his quirks like the rest of your squad did, but your opinion changed immediately after your first mission with him.

“Is Prosciutto teaching you anything?” he barked out at you after you two finally managed to take out your hit. You flinched and looked away from his intense gaze. You were a bit anxious about being alone with him for the first time, and you wanted to give him your best effort to impress him, but being on so on edge caused you to make some big mistakes.

“Well?” he demanded when you said nothing. You had assumed it was a rhetorical question.

“Y-yes?” you stuttered out.

“Then you’re the one accountable for fucking up today. What the hell was that?” he asked, his question ending in something similar to a snarl.

Something that was different about working with Ghiaccio as opposed to working with the others was that he argued out loud to no one in particular about random topics that pissed him off. At first you thought he was expecting you to talk to him about how nonsensical some phrase was that Formaggio used before the two of you left, and you listened attentively, but he never gave you any room to respond. Eventually you realized he wasn’t really conversing, just yelling to yell. It was very distracting and it only made you fidget and lose focus.

“I… well…” you choked out. “It’s usually quieter… on my missions, since my stand is- well, since my stand is made for stealth and-”

“Me talking prevented you from doing your job correctly?” he asked, his eyes narrowing. You just shrunk even deeper within yourself. The last thing you wanted to do was insinuate your mistake had been his fault. There was no way that wouldn’t provoke his ire.

“N-no! You didn’t do anything wrong! It was me, I’m really sorry! It won’t happen again!” you squeaked out.

“Better not,” he grumbled sarcastically with a huff before turning to walk down the street towards his car. You followed, keeping a good distance behind him, not looking forward to the ride back to the base.

---

That had been weeks ago. While you had been doing a decent job at tolerating Ghiaccio before that mission, afterwards was a different story. You actively avoided him, checking if he was in rooms before entering, excusing yourself when he came into a room you were already in, shutting yourself in your room upstairs when you heard him start up on a rant somewhere on the main floor.

Eventually it was shamelessly (or perhaps shamefully) obvious to just about everyone.

“Dude, what happened on your mission with them?” Formaggio asked in a hushed tone one time after your footsteps had disappeared up the stairs. “They’re terrified of you.”

“How the fuck should I know? They haven’t said anything to me about it,” Ghiaccio shot back.

“Uh, yeah, duh. That’s what I’m saying. They won’t even sit in the same room as you,” Formaggio muttered.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” he said, scrunching up his eyebrows. “But it’s not like they talk much to begin with.”

“Are you kidding?” Illuso interjected, inserting himself into his two teammates’ conversation, much to Ghiaccio’s annoyance. “I can get them to prattle on for hours about themself. They’re a real chatterbox once you get to know them.”

“Illuso, dude, have they told you the story about their mission with Pesci down at the wharf?” Formaggio asked with a big grin.

“Fuck, I almost forgot about that,” Illuso replied with a chuckle. “What about the time where-”

“Hey! Shut up for a second,” Ghiaccio snapped. “We’re all talking about the same person, right?”

Upon being interrupted Illuso narrowed his eyes at Ghiaccio before turning to Formaggio. “It’s obviously because of Ghiaccio’s poorly controlled rage. Have you ever seen the poor thing freeze up over a gunshot before?”

“No, but I can imagine. One time I tried scaring them from behind and it took them ten whole minutes to recover,” Formaggio responded.

“I haven’t done shit to them, what possible reason do they have to be scared of me?” Ghiaccio asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, what happened on that mission?” Formaggio asked again.

“It was pretty standard, I killed the bastard while they assisted. They did fuck up pretty bad, which is typical during training, so I pointed it out for their benefit. Then we left,” Ghiaccio recounted. “Nothing else happened.”

Formaggio raised an eyebrow. “What did you say?”

“I don’t know! I think I asked if Prosciutto was doing his job right since they didn’t seem too confident. I asked if there was anything that might have contributed to their lackluster performance, but after thinking it over they said that it was on them.”

“Sounds pretty level headed and analytical of you,” Illuso said, stroking his chin. “Are you sure that’s how you said it?”

“Probably not in so many words, I was probably more casual about it,” Ghiaccio grumbled. “Why does it matter how I said it? What’s important is what I said.”

“Ghiaccio, your brand of casual is a few decibels above what’s average,” Illuso said.

“Not to mention the casual expletives, or the casual sarcasm,” Formaggio added. “Are you sure you didn’t casually tell them to go fuck themself without realizing it?”

“No! I mean, if I was stern with them it was in the context of training!” Ghiaccio insisted.

“Are we being trained right now? Is that why you’re yelling at us?” Illuso asked with a smirk.

“This is just how I talk!” Ghiaccio said, bringing a hand up to his temple. “Ugh, I don’t fucking know! Maybe I yelled at them? I remember being very straightforward. They seemed kind of on edge, but I just assumed that’s how they always are!” He dropped his hand and turned to look at his two teammates. “Are they really not like that on missions with you?”

“Not anymore,” Illuso said with a shrug. “At first a bit, but they’re pretty reliable now.”

“You’ve got to go slow with them. They’re easily set off, but if they know they can count on you they’re able to push through it,” Formaggio said.

“My stand is invincible and I never even let the guy near them. There’s no one better suited for watching someone’s blind spot than me,” Ghiaccio said with his hand splayed out on his chest.

“I mean, like… emotionally,” Formaggio said, scratching the back of his head. “If I was to put myself in their headspace I’d say they probably think you hate them.”

“I don’t hate them,” Ghiaccio spat loudly.

“Good! Now step two is letting them know that,” Illuso said, clapping a hand on Ghiaccio’s back, causing his glasses to slide down his nose.

Ghiaccio grumbled and pushed his glasses back up. He knew that things were weird between the two of you ever since your mission, but it never even crossed his mind it was because of something he said. Is this what Prosciutto felt like training Pesci? But even Pesci had never been avoidant or scared of Prosciutto for all the tough love that he gave him. Pesci looked up to him like an older brother.

If he was really the only one in all of La Squadra that you were uncomfortable around, then he supposed it was on him now to figure out why.

---

The base was pretty quiet today, with a lot of missions landing on Risotto’s desk this week. While you were quite fond of your new teammates you liked having the common area all to yourself on a quiet evening, especially if you were curled up with a novel. When you first started living at the base it felt like a luxury, but even after you had gotten used to the quiet its novelty hadn’t worn off for you.

The sound of a key jingling at the front door had you peeking over your book. When Ghiaccio appeared framed by the living room entrance you held your breath. Hopefully he’d be going upstairs… no, it looked like he was coming into the common area. That’s okay, you could move, so you started standing up, except… he was looking right at you, heading in your direction.

“Sit down,” he said stiffly, and after a beat he added, “Please?”

“Uhh! Okay!” you said, sitting back down and bringing your book right back up to cover your face.

“Can you also, uh. Please. Put the book down?” Ghiaccio said, his voice strained to maintain a monotone and flatten out any inflection. You did as he asked, although you still couldn’t meet his eyes, and he just stared at you awkwardly.

“Uh-”

“Hello,” he said, and it left his mouth at the exact same time your muttered exclamation had. Another awkward pause.

“Hi?” you said, unsure. This wasn’t what you were expecting from your next conversation with the man, for as long as you had postponed it. You thought he’d be demanding to know why you were ignoring him, or getting on your case about being too sensitive to handle his criticism on your last mission. Maybe that was yet to come?

“You are afraid of me,” Ghiaccio stated flatly. Then perhaps he realized he wanted to ask it as a question. “Yes?”

“Oh, no, I’m…” you muttered.

“Of course you are,” he said quickly, cutting you off before you could mumble out an excuse. You got pretty embarrassed by that, but you swallowed and moved your eyes up to gauge his expression. He didn’t look angry, but he looked hyper focused to the point of distress. His lips were pressed together tightly as if he was trying to hold back from speaking again.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“For being scared of me?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. He was being sarcastic again, wasn’t he?

“No, I… I mean… I’m sorry for,” you started, trying to think of something legitimate to actually be sorry about. “For fucking up on the mission.”

“Did fucking up on the mission really bother you that much?” he said. Not only were you stupid for fucking up the mission, but you were also stupid for letting it bother you for so long! What did he want you to say?

“No, I mean…”

But Ghiaccio cut you off with a long loud exhale. “Look, I’m not great at this kind of thing. I understand that I make you anxious, and I understand that for whatever reason it’s hard for you to talk to me, but I really can’t understand what people say unless they drop all the bullshit.” When you frowned and looked away he tried again. “Not bullshit, fuck, uh. No, not fuck... It’s just that. I need you to say exactly what you mean. I can’t tell what people are thinking unless they make it… easy for me.”

You looked back at him. Whatever he was here to talk about with you, he was trying very hard not to raise his voice. The way he was talking to you was too stilted to be anything but intentional. If he was doing this for your sake, then you would try to meet him halfway. You took a moment to think, to choose what you wanted to say carefully.

“I don’t do well with loud noises. I also… take things very personally. I’ve been worrying that you…” You took another second before committing. “...Hate me.”

He pressed his lips in a thin line again as some noise tried to escape his throat, perhaps an instinctive denial. “What about me makes you think that?”

“Well… you seemed pretty disappointed in me after the mission.”

“I was checking in with you. I wanted to make sure Prosciutto was properly training you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “But… but you sounded really angry and sarcastic.”

Ghiaccio closed his eyes and thought about that for a second. “I probably was angry, but not at you. You just fucked up on something so basic that I had to wonder if Prosciutto was actually teaching you anything useful.”

“That’s… not how you said it though,” you said, feeling defensive. “I… I know I did something dumb… but I’ve never messed up with my stand like that before. It was different on that mission.”

“Me talking to myself?” Ghiaccio asked. He had been fixating over what he said to you at the end of that mission for days now, trying to remember all the details. He recalled how you had started with one explanation, but you quickly retracted it.

“You were… so angry the entire mission,” you complained. “Everyone else is quiet on missions with me because my stand is better suited to it.”

“It wasn’t a stealth mission,” Ghiaccio countered. “We were using your stand for something different. I wasn’t even talking to you.”

“I know!” you groaned. “You weren’t trying to distract me, but when things get too loud I…”

“But you took it back. You said it wasn’t me,” Ghiaccio said, leaning forward. His voice had risen just a little, but when he noticed how you reacted to that he tensed up.

“I took it back because I was afraid of upsetting you!” you said, leaning back into the couch as far as you could. “Because when I brought it up… you were mean about it… so I took it back! I thought you were trying to tell me it was my fault, so I took the blame like I thought you wanted!”

“I was… I was asking for clarification! If I did something that caused you to fuck up then I want to know that I did so we can talk about it!” He was clenching his fists to keep his upward inflections from becoming full-blown yelling.

“None of that came across!” you complained. “Like… maybe you technically said those things, but the way you said made it come across completely different!”

“What about you? Now you’re telling me that you meant something completely different from the things you actually said to me!?”

“I-I… but I was obviously upset! I was obviously just trying to appease you!”

“How was it obvious? I thought you were upset because you fucked up! No one likes fucking up!”

“Yeah, no kidding!” You realized at this point that your own voice was starting to rise, which was making Ghiaccio raise his to match yours, and you took a deep breath before speaking calmly again. “I was upset because I was afraid.”

It was quiet again for a little while until Ghiaccio broke the silence.

“Being mean and angry comes really easy to me,” he said, running his fingers through his curls. “Even when I don’t realize it, I still am. Even if I think I’m being reasonable, people misunderstand. I’ve been so used to the others actually being able to take it that I forgot how bad it was.” He scratched at his head a bit. “I also have a hard time telling how loud I actually am until someone points it out.”

You sat there for a moment, soaking that in, before you gave a small amused huff with a half-smile on your face. “I’m not great with loud noises because of what they mean to me. Gunshots remind me of a time when I wasn’t safe… but I can protect myself now, and I have other people who will protect me too. But yelling reminds me of… how I was never good enough for anyone.” You tapped your fingers on the cover of the book on your lap and shrugged.

“I hear from the others that you’re really skilled and reliable on missions,” Ghiaccio said. “I didn’t see that from you when we worked together, but maybe that’s because I was the one who fucked up.”

“But you didn’t...” you started.

“I fucked up by not meeting you where you were at. You’re new. I don’t know you, I don’t know what you’re like. If we had talked beforehand, if I had worked with you, then you probably wouldn’t have made that mistake. I was taking the lead on that mission, it was my job to train you to use your stand in an unfamiliar circumstance. I use missions to get out all the shit that makes me angry, since I don’t need to stay quiet. You don’t work like that. You had no idea what I was yelling for. I never told you how I do things, I just expected you to brush it off like everyone else does.”

You blinked a few times. You had been pretty quick to blame yourself for your own shortcomings, but hearing him say that really recontextualized that entire mission experience.  You might have fucked up, but it was now obvious that he did not hold it against you. “That’s surprisingly self-aware of you.”

He rolled his eyes and set his elbow on the couch’s armrest, plopping his head on his fist. “You don’t know me either. I’m more than a raving heartless bastard. Stuff like this… not understanding why other people think the way they do, or what I’m doing wrong… it really fucks me up. I don’t hate you. You’re a part of my family now and I genuinely want to help you get stronger. I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

Ghiaccio was nothing like you thought. He was actually really sensitive and introspective. You could tell it was hard for him to confront you like this, almost as hard as it was for you to be confronted. You appreciated that he wanted to put in the effort to have a relationship with you.

“Thank you Ghiaccio. And I’m sorry I avoided you instead of trying to talk about it like this.” You reached over and placed your hand on his shoulder with a gentle smile. He seemed taken aback by the contact, but he relaxed after a moment.

“Are we… good?” he huffed out.

“I think so!”

He let out one long exhale that seemed to go on forever. “Thank fuck,” he muttered, before turning to look at you. “Goddamn it, sorry.”

“It’s not the swearing that bothers me,” you clarified. “It’s the intention behind it. You’re… uh… fucking good, my dude.”

He let out a snort at the awkward way you said that before bringing his hand up to cover his face, looking away in embarrassment.

“Aw, no, that was cute,” you assured him, which only made it worse.

“Well, if we’re done here then I’m heading to bed,” he said, and you glanced at the clock in the living room. It had gotten pretty late. He stood up and started walking towards the stairs.

“We have a mission together again this weekend, right?” you asked, and he looked at you over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” he confirmed.

“I’m looking forward to it,” you said with as much enthusiasm as you could muster. And you meant it. “Goodnight!”

“...Night,” he said, before he disappeared around the corner.