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skelitinonmyback · 1 year ago

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short skirt/long jacket

pairing: poe dameron x fem!reader

synopsis: poe is a barista at the coffee shop you go to everyday, and he is absolutely head over heels for you. your femme fatale, business woman vibe makes his knees weak every time you come by. after pressure from his coworkers he put his moves on you. and you are more than happy to take him on.

content warning: SMUT 18+, dom!reader, sub!poe, oral sex (r!receiving), edging, male whimpers, grinding, teasing

word count: 3.9k

You were the only thing Poe looked forward to. His ears perked like a dog whenever he heard the bell at the front of the store chime at the arrival of a new customer, hoping it was you. His coworkers Finn and Rey caught on pretty quick by the way he turned bright red and stuttered everytime you came in. There was one time when Finn swore he saw Poe check his breath when you came through the door and he has yet to live that down.

That was the only reason Poe was putting on his apron now actually. The guarantee of seeing you was a greater motivator than the coffee they sold at the cafe. He clocked in and instead of being a good worker, his eyes were trapped on the door hoping to summon you. Maybe you were wearing a trenchcoat since the fall weather has finally started. God, you would look so good in a trenchcoat.

“You know staring at the door won’t make her get here any faster,” Rey shook her head behind him, the sound of her voice making him jump.

“Fuck, don’t sneak up on me like that,” he pouted, not happy being called out like that.

She rolled her eyes, she was standing behind him for two minutes before she finally said something. “Why don’t you just ask her out? She totally checks you out everytime she comes in! She even asked where you were yesterday when you didn’t work.”

“Did she really?” His eyes lit up at the idea, but he soon killed the flame not wanting his hopes to get up. “Whatever. If it’s so easy, why don’t you go ask Finn out hmm?”

Rey’s face turned sour and before she could scold him, Finn’s lovely voice came from the back of house. “What are we talking about?” His face appears from the doorway after his voice with a teasing look on his face. “Is he finally gonna ask her out?”

Poe’s face was starting to flush and he swore steam was coming from his ears with all the teasing he had to endure. He was racking his mind with ways to get back at his meddling coworkers but his focus was broken with the ring of the door bell. With the sound of your name coming from Rey he knew who it was. Didn’t everyone just have impeccable timing today.

“Wow, slow day today?” you questioned, surprised by the bare cafe on a Monday.

“Y-yeah, you just missed the crowd, haha. Get us a-all to yourself” Poe stuttered, turning a whole other shade of pink by your presence. He looked over to Rey for some help who just mouthed ‘smooth’ at him. In his defense, you looked good today, like how you look good everyday but more. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what made you look different today but he knew he liked it.

“Oh lucky me,” you giggled, always flattered by how flustered Poe was when you came in, it’s so cute. “Oh, Rey! I tried that lipstick you recommended. What do you think?”

“Oh my god, it looks so good! I knew that color would suit you,” she gushed. “What do you think, Poe?”

Suddenly, his throat closed up with mucus and he just didn’t know what words were anymore. “G,” he cleared his throat. “Good. I think it looks good.”

“Thank you, Poe,” you said, enjoying the way his eyes widened when you said his name. “I’ll just take my usual.” You set the exact change you’ve come to memorise down in his palm before heading to the end of the bar, talking to Rey who was making your drink.

You guys were over there talking for about 5 minutes before Poe got suspicious. Before he could intercept the conversation you already had one foot out the door and a napkin that Rey had handed you. When Poe tried asking Rey about it, she just shrugged and said ‘what napkin’. It was stuck on his mind for the rest of the day.

It wasn’t until later that night when he got a text did he realize what hijinx Rey was up to.

UNKNOWN NUMBER: Hello, Poe.

POE: hello? can i ask who this is

You sent him your name and a little apology for not starting with that.

His heart dropped to his stomach and his palms got sweaty. Wow, you didn’t even need to be here to get him incredibly nervous.

POE: OH, hi! hope you dont mind me asking but howd you get my number lol

YOU: Rey gave it to me this morning. I hope that’s ok!

His face turned red, so embarrassed by his match making coworker. God, he hoped you didn’t blame him for her meddling, completely ruining his chance with you.

POE: oh goodness, im so sorry abt her, i hope she didnt force anything on you :/

YOU: Oh, it’s no problem, Poe.

Even the way you texted was so sexy and sufisticated. It really shouldn’t be turning him on as much as it was.

POE: are u sure? if she was over stepping bounds id be happy to make it up to u

Be more desperate, Poe. Jesus Christ.

YOU: Well, if you do want to make it up to me, I am free tomorrow at 6:30 pm for dinner. I’ll be expecting something nice.

POE: oh sure i can do dinner tmrw. have u ever been to ogas grill

YOU: Poe, honey, it doesn’t actually have to be fancy. I was teasing you.

HONEY? God, you were going to give him a heart attack if you kept that behavior up.

POE: no its ok i like it :)

YOU: See you then!

Poe quite literally couldn’t wait. He could feel all of the cells of his body vibrating with excitement and he couldn’t fall asleep. Once he finally did, he woke right back up an hour later when his alarm for work went off. Oh he couldn’t wait to see you when you came in for your coffee as usual but this time you had a date planned.

And as if time was flipping before him, he was already clocked in for the shift, 30 minutes before you usually come in. His demeanor was distant for he was drifting away in his thoughts that were occupied solely by you. He was distracted in the back, zoned out doing the dishes when Finn calling your name dragged him to reality.

Poe didn’t bother turning off the water before running out front to see you waiting for your drink at the end of the bar. He called out your name in a tired, breathless voice as if he just ran a marathon to see you.

“Hi, Poe,” you beamed with a bright smile that practically burned Poe’s insides.

“Hi, you’re here early,” he observed. “N-not that that’s a bad thing, I just don’t think I’ve ever seen you here before 7:30. NOT that I’m like keeping track of you or you know what I’m just gonna stop talking.”

“It’s ok, honey,” you giggled unaware of the way Poe gripped onto the counter to stop himself from falling to his knees for you. “I just couldn’t wait to see you today is all.”

Poe’s eyes went wide with awe and he had to hold himself back from jumping over the counter and kissing you. “Really?” is all his brain managed to come up with as he started planning out your entire relationship together.

“Yeah,” you laughed at his shock that you were infact excited to see him, gushing over the sheer cuteness that was him. Cutting off your moment together, Finn sets your drink down for you on the bar. “I’ll let you get back to work, but I can’t wait to see you wait at dinner, honey.”

“Me too,” he sighed, eyes dazed watching you leave the store.

“Dinner?” Finn gasped, perplexed by your words.

“Shut up.”

—

Later that day Poe was practically shitting his pants as he waited outside of your apartment. He brought flowers because he thought it was the right thing to do but as he looked at flowers he started overthinking about the casualness of everything. What if you just wanted to get dinner to know him better as a friend and you would laugh in his face and call him stupid for ever believing you would want to go out with him. So he settled on a bundle of baby’s breath and eucalyptus.

When you answered the door all the breath from his lungs escaped him and a stitch started forming in his side from just standing there and looking at you. You were wearing a dress, midi length, that hugged you in all the right places and revealed more skin than he ever thought he’d see on you. Your lipstick red and heels stiletto, doubling down on your femme fatale image.

“You know,” you start, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without your apron on. It’s nice, you clean up well.”

Hi siliva stuck to the back of his throat at your compliment, causing him to roughly clear his throat. “Um, I got these for you, wasn’t sure what kind you liked so,” he said humbly, handing you the flowers with weak hands.

You thanked him, obsessed with how bashful he was, and turned back into your house to set them down on the counter before taking his arm and heading with him to his car. His palms were already sweaty simply from the grip you had on his bicep and when he opened your door to let you into his car he felt some relief of getting a little bit of distance from you, just so he could breathe again.

Luckily for him, Oga’s Grill was just a five minute drive down from your apartment, so he didn’t have to worry too much about making polite conversation and instead he could focus on regulating his breathing. It was unfortunate for you however. You loved watching him twitch and get nervous over a car ride with you. It made your imagination run wild, thinking about all the reactions he would have if you were actually trying to make him nervous.

The dinner was, well, awkward. Poe couldn’t stop getting nervous and accidentally knocking stuff over and it was honestly the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. You could tell he was immensely nervous more than anything but you couldn’t bring yourself to console him, loving how red he got from stirring in his own juices.

When the check came, he felt panicked because the date didn’t go at all how he had planned. He was waiting for the moment he would gain the confidence to sweep you off your feet but it never came. He put his card in the checkbook, hands shakier than ever, not knowing how to rebound after making himself look like a complete buffoon.

When you guys got back in the car, Poe didn’t put the key in the ignition, instead he just stared at the steering wheel in front of him. Excitement sparkeed in your abdomen, thinking he was finally going to make a move. He swallowed every nerve crawling up his throat so he could get out this sentence.

“I’m sorry for my… behavior today. I was just so nervous, I kept on embarrassing myself, I guess,” he said, too ashamed to look at you.

For the first time that day, your heart actually tugged at the way he struggled to communicate so you officially needed to put his worries away. “Hey, it’s ok. I thought it was cute.” He scoffed at you and you had to double down. “Honest. Really, I think it’s kind of… sexy.”

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline and for the first time in the whole evening he made eye contact with you and you could’ve crumbled right there. The way his eyesbrows pinched together and his mouth pouted with confusion was slowly chipping away at your patience. And the sound of his voice when he said “really?” was practically begging you to go on.

“Come on, you can’t look at me like that and pretend to be confused about what I find attractive about it all.”

“Wait, you’re being serious?” His voice was weaker and he faced his body towards you, the best he could in the car, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss that surprised look off his face.

“As a fucking heart attack, Poe, I swear I was wet for that entire dinner,” you admit, throwing caution to the wind.

Embarrassingly so, Poe choked on his spit, awed by the words you just said about him. He shook his head, not completely understanding what you meant by that. Frustrated by all the back and forth, you grabbed his hand and shoved it up your skirt to where your thighs parted, where you had undoubtedly soaked through your panties. The sound of a whimper passing through Poe’s lips made your thighs clench around the hand you brought between them.

“Feel what you do to me, baby?” you questioned with a pout. Completely dumb by everything around him, he just nodded, eyes boring into yours. His finger tips twitched, running along your clothed cunt purly on intsinct. “Why don’t you take me home, huh baby?”

You didn’t have to ask him twice. He ripped his hand away from you and forced the car into reverse and maybe went a bit above the speed limit to make it home. You weren’t making it easy for him to focus on the road either. You had a hand on him the entire time, running your manicured nails up and down his thigh and he could feel himself twitching and lurch in the confines of his pants.

When you got to the parking lot of your apartment you werre sure he was going to hurt himself with how fast he got out of the car. You couldn’t help but laugh at his eagerness when he was already to the front of your apartment by the time you left his car.

“C’mon now, honey, don’t want me to think you’re desperate,” you teased, completely joking. But when you saw the way his eyes twinkled and lips stuttered you knew he was taking you seriously, and liking it. You clucked your tongue at him and shook your head before letting him into your apartment.

You kicked off your shoes in the foyer and he did the same, mimicking all of your actions. Poe was very nervous, he wasn’t really the type to have sex on a first date so he didn’t really understand the protocol or what would be expected of him. You felt his nervousness and knew that he didn’t really know what to do with himself so you threw him a bone.

“Why don’t you go sit on the couch for me, baby?” He immediately followed your instruction, walking the ten paces to took to get from your front door to your couch. Satisfied by his obedience you called him ‘good boy’ that gave you a harsh sigh and a stuttered step in return. You were willing to call him good boy every second of every day if it got you that in return.

“Aww, you like it when I called you that?”

His eyes were wide and lips were parted when he nodded back at you, sitting incredibly straight on your couch. You stood in front of him and shook your head, disappointed with his response. “I need to hear you.”

“... yes.”

“That’s a good boy. You answer all of my questions when I ask them, alright?”

“Yes, ma’am,” his voice hoarse in response.

Your spine tingled at the new nickname he developed for you and your control almost faded away completely. But, you didn’t want to scare him away by pouncing on him so instead you settled for sitting gently on his lap, lining his hips with yours.

“This ok?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he repeated, his voice higher, whinier than before. The sound of it made you roll your hips against his and the jagged gasp he let out had you doing another and then another until he was heavy panting and his nails dug into the fabric of your couch.

“Sorry, pretty boy, you just look so good everytime I do it,” you huffed, unable to straighten out your breathing.

“I’it’s ok, ah,” his voice strained when you started grinding down on him harsher and more frantic. “F-fuuck, oh fuck. Stop, please I’m gonna, gonna cum, oh.”

“Already, baby?” Your hips stilled as you looked at him with curiosity. He nodded and you could tell by the way his jaw was dropped, eyes barely open, and neck completely flushed he was lying. He began to writhe under you, subconsciously looking for the friction that’ll have him finished. “But, you haven’t even touched me yet.”

“Can I,” he cut himself off, looking at the ceiling embarrassed.

“Can you what baby? Come on, use your words.”

“Can I eat you out?” he admitted, bringing his chin down so his eyes could search yours. His desperation grew when you didn’t respond to him right away. “Please, ma’am, wanna taste you so bad. Just wanna make you feel good, baby, please”

“Shh, of course you can, baby,” you muttered. Soon you were yelping when he picked you up to switch positions, setting you down on the couch with your ass to the very edge.

Without any other words, he kneeled down in front of you and fuck was it a sight to behold. He didn’t look up at you, all of his focus was on your legs as he rolled up your skirt with furrowed brows. You felt the scrap of teeth and a tug, realizing that behind the skirt pooled around your thighs was Poe, taking your panties off with his fucking teeth. He reappeared, panties between his teeth. He looked at your face and seductively took them out from between his teeth and settled them on the couch next to you before diving back in.

You inhaled sharply and cursed and the sudden ravaging against your cunt. He wasn’t kidding when he said he wanted to eat you out because his tongue was lapping against your hole like a fucking dog and his nose dug into your clit. You lifted your skirt up enough to grab ahold of his hair and keep him at work tight against you.

“Fuck,” you groaned, “Good fucking boy, ugh, feels so good.” Your voice was deep and raw and the sound of it tagged him on further, making his lick and nudges harder. It didn’t take long for a spring to break in you and Poe clenched his nails into your thighs when you started shaking, trying to get him off you with the intensity of your orgasm.

Finally calming down, you used your grip on his head to manivuer him back so you could get a good look at him. You wished you could take a picture of him and frame it from the way he looked now. His hair unruly, face bright red, and chin completely damp with your essence was a sight to behold. His chest heaved from the air suddenly rushing back to his lungs.

You pull him up to sit next to you on the couch and you take apart his pants. He lifts his hips so you can pull down pants, boxers following. Soon his cock laid up against his stomch, bright red, leaking, and twitching like he was fighting off an orgasm. Unable to help yourself, you ran your finger nail up the underside of it. His hand darted forward to try and stop you, a hiss escaping his mouth.

“Uh uh, you let me touch what’s mine,” you tsked. When he let go of you and returned his hand to his side you hummed “that’s right,” before wrapping your fist around him.

Immediately, strings of fuck’s and oh god’s were piling out of his mouth. His hips were jerking along with your movements and precum dribbled onto your hand as a natural form of lubricant.

“Shit, I’m gonna c-cum, I’m gonna,” his rant cut off as you removed your hand away from him. He looked over at you with wild eyes like a puppy you just kicked.

“You only get to cum inside me, ok?” you were stern with your words and he had no other choice but to nod along with them.

You kicked your leg to the other side of him and brought your lap down to his, this time you were touching each other’s most intimate parts bare and the stimulation made Poe light headed. You knew Poe wouldn’t last long but you didn’t mind, completely satisfied with the orgasm he brought you earlier.

You reached under your dress where you two met and pulled his cock up, lefting your hip with it. You teased the tip over the slit of you, making him bunch the meat of your hip into his fist and whine. You swore you saw tears form in his eyes as he pleaded for you.

Breaking him from his misery, you slowly sid down his length. Thank you, thank you, thank you fell from his lips as he was consumed by you.

It would’ve been embarrassing for him if he could think about anything other than the warmth of your cunt. It only took five more ruts of your hips before his legs tighten, hips spasmed and hands flailing to different parts of you. You knew he was on the brink of cumming but for some reason he was denying himself. He was waiting for you.

“Go ahead, baby, cum for me.”

His eyebrows furrowed and abs tighten with the focus of hold himself off. “But, you haven’t.”

“It’s ok. Wanna feel you cum inside me. Can you do that for me? Can you cum for me baby?”

That last push was all he needed and soon enough he was whining out profanities and thank yous and he shook beneath you. You moaned at the feeling his hot cum coating you inside, at the way his eyes rolled back, at the way he choked on his breath. You gave it a few beats before you made a move to clean up.

“We should probably head back to my bed huh?” you said through the fit of giggles you found yourself in.

“Yeah,” he sighed, head resting against the back of the couch. “Just give me a minute.”

You got up from the couch, cum dripping down your leg, and extended your hand for him to take. “Come on, big guy, let’s get cleaned up.”

He followed your direction and eventually you ended up nice and clean, cuddling up in your bed. He looked over your shoulder at the alarm clock next to your bed and groaned. “What’s wrong?”

“I forgot I had work at 5:00 am tomorrow,” he whined, and it being midnight meant that was in five hours.

“Don’t worry about that now. Just go to sleep and I’ll give you a ride, ok.” Very happy with the sentiment of your statement he drifted off to sleep. He didn’t even consider the inevitable questions Finn and Rey would have for him when you kissed him on the lips and told him to call you when he was off.

#poe dameron smut #poe x reader #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron

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sweetlittlegingy · 2 years ago

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In The Mood For Chaos

"He knew her in a way no one else ever could."

“You corrupted her soul, what else did you expect”

🍒 Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Callsign Cherry Masterlist

🍒 Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Y/N 'Cherry' Bishop, Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Y/n 'Cherry' Bishop

🍒 Word Count: 7.3k

🍒 Warnings: Parental death, angst, POW and very sensitive topics, Bradley... idk what he's doing today lol, swearing, breach of trust, loss of friendship (and love...), protective Jake, protective Bob, mourning, a lot of crying, drinking, dark headspace

🍒 A/n: I would like to note that I know how sensitive this topic is and I want to caution anyone that is reading this. I could never know or capture all of the feelings that families go through, and if you have been through this situation or lost anyone while they were in the military, I'm sending you my deepest condolences and am sending you all the love.

🍒 A/n pt 2: I just wrote this in the last five hours and cried a lot. It wasn't supposed to be an angsty story, but we've got multi-layered characters here.

🍒 Library (Follow for updates! I no longer have a taglist.)

Your chest heaves as the sweat drips between the swell of your breasts, and the sound of your shoes hitting the packed sand keeps a steady tempo for you to run to. The sound of waves crashing barely reaches your ears, as you push yourself harder. You catch sight of the sun starting to peak up over the horizon, which causes you to check your watch.

4:45

4 miles in 45 minutes wasn’t horrible, but it was nowhere close to your best. You had woken up at 3, drenched in sweat and gasping for air. It was the same reaction every time you came back to San Diego, maybe it was how abruptly your grandparents took you away, maybe it was a visceral reaction that you had no control over, or maybe you were still that broken little girl.

It was most likely the latter, though you don’t allow the thought to float around long in your head. It’s how you had ended up running, any way to get away from the reality of the situation. Quiet literally running away from your problems.

The bay curves around, low tide with an expanse of sand that led right up to the house you rented. Your eyes cast across the bay and find the small white house, placed perfectly on the beach and close to the base, with a small dock off the back that connects directly to the harbor.

You only let yourself look at it momentarily as the sunrise lights up the expanse of sand, before focusing back on the path in front of you. A harsh breath pushes from your chest as you break out into a sprint, a gasp toeing the line of a cry. Your chest burns and you relish in the pain, anything to take away how your heart hurts.

You reach the pavement of the street that’s a straight stretch to the bungalow, 1 more mile. You had been pacing yourself, but as memories flash across your mind you could care less. You needed, to feel something that was physical pain, to prove you were still breathing. A sharp ache settles in your side, but you can see the front porch from a distance and so you push harder.

A grimace crosses your face as a metallic taste settles in the back of your mouth, and your chest aches, but you can’t stop not when you were so close. Another gasp releases from your chest and causes you to push that final step more.

You don’t make it to the door, the moment your feet touch the grass, you collapse. Your chest heaves in pain and have to spit out the mucus coating your throat. Though the tint of red proves that it was more blood than spit. You roll on your back as your gasps, turn into silent sobs.

Your body aches and screams at you for your reckless behavior, though you settle in the pain. Letting it pull you down and consume you completely. Your therapist had once told you that pushing this hard, was a form of self-harm. You stopped seeing her after that appointment, it wasn’t that you couldn’t come to terms with your trauma. It was the fact that it was the only thing, other than flying, that could clear your mind.

Besides, it wasn’t the worst thing that you could do.

No, you’d gone down that road while in high school. Jake was the only one that knew just how far things had gone. As much as you despised him now, for a long time he was your only reason to keep breathing.

...

You wipe the steam from the mirror, before towel drying out your hair. The sound of a door closing is followed by a knock on the door.

“Hold on Bobby. Your coffee is in the kitchen too.”

You hear a small hum in reply, and you laugh lightly. Bob was never a morning person and in the last two weeks, you had made sure that you had his coffee ready before he got out of bed. It’s not that you liked waking up early, but more so that sleep escaped you regularly.

You grab the oversized tee shirt from the counter, before slipping it on your frame. For going shorts, the old Texas longhorn’s shirt covered enough and it wasn’t as if didn’t Bob hadn’t already seen everything. One of the perks of living with each other for 4 years, it had become such a regular occurrence that it no longer phased either of you. You were quite positive that you could walk around naked, and the only thing Bobby would comment on would be the set of tan lines that adorned your skin over the past two weeks.

You slip out of the bathroom and head toward the kitchen, wanting to make sure that he had indeed found his coffee, but also that he didn’t steal yours. You almost laugh at the sight of his half-naked form leaning over the kitchen table, while keeping his coffee tucked in close.

Though the cup of coffee sitting opposite of him, has you smiling as you slip into the seat across from him. You slip your cup silently waiting for Bobby to at least get half the cup in his system before you try and hold a conversation. You glance at the oven, it was only 6:30 and you didn’t have to be on base until 8 and the drive was only 15 minutes. Your eyes fall back to Bob as an empty cup now sits between the two of you. You snicker as he rakes a hand threw his hair, it causes his baby blues to settle on you.

“It’s Saturday tomorrow, Bobby. Two whole days for you to sleep in.”

“Yeah, as long as you don’t wake me up.” His tone is teasing though your smile falls into a frown.

“I didn’t mean to wake you; it’s just being back here.”

Your words have his sleep-deprived brain clearing and the apology is already sitting at the tip of his tongue. Though you stop him before he has the chance, by giving his hand a small squeeze. His hand settles in yours and gives you a squeeze in return. You had lost so many people throughout your life and couldn’t have been more thankful that you had him.

The pair of you sit in silence, enjoying the quiet morning before the chaos of your everyday life commences. The past two weeks had been relatively calm, other than the sublet jabs that Rooster and Hangman like to throw at you. It was funny, and it only got worse as you stayed slightly ahead of them in all of the exercises. It had gotten to the point that you were just taunting them; dogfights were your favorite. Maverick had switched to having someone from the class be the enemy target and somehow.... by some luck unbeknownst to you, the three of you always ended up in the air together.

The three of you had kept the jabs surface level, nothing digging too deep that would actually cause damage. You weren’t willing to risk losing your place on the detachment or let some feud put anyone else in the squadron at risk.

Your eyes shift back to Bobby as he rises from his chair and takes both of your cups to the sink. His hands settle on your shoulders as he stands behind you and places a kiss on the top of your head.

“You don’t have to go through it alone, Cher.”

Your hand reaches up to clasp one of his hands, giving it a squeeze and a small kiss. While Bobby knew everything, it didn’t make actually talking about it any easier.

“Thanks, B.”

The nickname slips from your lips and causes Bob's hands to tighten, as a full laugh falls from his lips. You rarely called him B, and when you did it was used to break the tension in the air. That first night that the pair of you tried to see if you could be anything more, you had made a point that you wouldn’t be moaning Robert or Bob. So, B became the given name, and well... it only landed you two in a fit of laughter. It was your own personal inside joke.

...

Your eyes scan the hanger as you and Bob make your way to your seats, though as your eyes settle on a familiar face a massive grin appears on your lips. Bob had already made it to your seats, and you give his shoulder a gentle squeeze to get his attention from Phoenix.

You nod to the front of the hanger, toward the group of older gentlemen talking before the day starts. His eyes find the dark head of hair that had been missing for the last two weeks and gives you an understanding smile, before pushing your hip forward lightly.

Your boots echo through the hanger, and you can feel the different sets of eyes find your passing figure, though you pay them no mind. You come to a stop just behind the three men, waiting for Maverick to finish his sentence. You see Warlock’s shift to see you and give you a small smile, which makes your own smile grow as their conversation ends.

“Admiral.” Your tone is steady as you say it, and you quickly wipe the smile from your face as he turns.

“Lieutenant.”

His face remains serious as the pair of you stare at one another. You can hear the rest of the pilots behind you quietly talking about the pair of you, though you pay them no mind. Slowly the stern look turns into a full smile, though yours stays in place waiting.

“Hey, kid.”

The nickname makes a full smile break across your lips and for a moment you’re a little girl again. His arms reach out to hug you, though you’re already throwing yourself into his arms and grasping on like you were worried he might slip away.

“Hi, Uncle Beau.”

Your throat catches as you say it and cause Cyclone’s arms to tighten around you before letting go. The both of you pull back and give each other one last smile, before falling back into line. You nod at the other two men who hadn’t moved, each of them giving you a small smile. You give the three of them one last smile, your heart already finding some form of peace over the fact of having your godfather close.

Your smile falls as you turn and make direct eye contact with Hangman and Rooster, before brushing passed them to go sit with Bobby.

“Lieutenant Bishop,” Cyclone's voice echoes through the hanger and causes you to turn back around. “Come see me later, we’ve got a few things to talk about. One of them being Lieutenant Commander Adams.”

Your eyes widen slightly, the man might have only been your godfather, but he sure took the job of vexing any of your “friends” seriously. You can hear Bob laugh to the side of you and your arm punches out to hit him on the shoulder.

“Of course, Admiral.”

You sink down into the seat next to Bob who is still snickering beside you, “You think it’s about you and Adams in that f-18? What were you doing again?” Your face blanches slightly, though your eyes remain trained on the whiteboard. “Going over how well you could grip the yoke?”

You slowly turn to Bob, who has a cheeky smile taunting you. Your eyes find Payback, Fanboy, and Phoenix who are practically leaning over the back of your and Bob's chairs to hear. Each of them looks at you while trying not to smile, which they are failing phenomenally at.

“Fuck you, Robert.”

Your tone is anything but harsh, and a small chuckle breaks from your chest as you rest back in your chair.

...

Once again you had been chosen to be the enemy target for the dynamic idiot duo, by now you were sure that Maverick was doing it as a way of “therapy” for the three of you. The two of them stop at their own F-18s as you head farther down the tarmac, though Rooster’s voice yelling at you has you turning around to see what it was now that he was bitching at now.

“What do I have to do to get on the Cherry Popping List, Cherry?”

You almost let the words go over your head, though the small snicker at the in pulls you back. The comment and action not only affect you though, as you watch Jake tense up and glare at his wingman. If looks could kill, Rooster would be six feet under.

“Sorry, I’m not one to lower my standards.” A smile crosses your lips that has Rooster standing straighter. “Especially for pilots that can’t get into the Academy on the first go.”

You don’t wait to see his reaction, already knowing that Maverick holding his papers was a sore subject. You’d heard the rumor when the three of you were in the Academy, though hadn’t realized it was true until you heard Maverick and Rooster arguing last week.

It doesn’t take long for the three of you to get in the air, as you hear the pair chattering across the coms. You stay low level, just above the hard deck, waiting for them to get restless.

Rooster's voice cuts across the frequency again, “So Hangman, tell me, was she any good? Figure asking from someone with first-hand experience is better than nothing.”

Rooster's laugh echoes across the radio, and for the minute you give them, before you're officially pissed, Jake doesn’t say anything. You glance up and see their pair of F-18s right above you before you pop up. They’re separated just enough, and they have no clue that you’re just under them, soon to be on top.

“You should worry about your own sex life Rooster; I’ve heard quite a few underwhelming reviews.”

The sentence slips off your lips, though before either of them can reply you shoot up through the pair. Sending each of them off to the side in a barrel roll and now it’s your laugh that echoes across the coms.

“What the fuck was that.” Jake’s voice rings out and breaks up the laughing fit you were having due to them both gasping.

“It’s called, I’m about to kick your ass and win 50 bucks from Coyote.” They both go silent trying to figure out what you mean. You knew that the rest of the squad would be listening to the coms, specifically Javy. “Ain’t that right Javy? This will make ten-”

You're cut off before you can finish, “We’ve gotten tone on you six times.”

You roll your eyes at Rooster, as you bring the nose around and find the two of them.

“No, you’re right Rooster. You’ve done such a good job of coming in second, too bad there’s only one winner.”

You go silent after that, paying neither of them any mind. You need to focus and not worry about the birdbrains; you also knew that your silence unnerved them. Just another perk. It doesn’t take long for you to get behind the pair, though it’s Rooster who you have your eyes on.

He had constantly been trying to piss you off. While Jake made comments, dumb snappy comments, Rooster was like a lover scorned and picked at every little thing he could.

He’d almost brought up your dad the other day, after seeing a picture of your father and Cyclone standing side by side on a carrier. Both of them had been deployed and it was one that you personally had tucked away at home.

Though just as the words “Your father” slipped passed Rooster's lips, Hangman had thrown him a glare that silenced the man. For a minute you saw Jake, not Hangman, though the flash of his green eyes to you was quickly covered up and Jake was gone again.

You didn’t know if you could ever forgive either of them, you had never really thought about it until now, with every look that Jake gave you, you questioned yourself. Could you ever risk opening up like that again, giving someone that much power over you.

Sure, Bobby knew everything, though the “power” he had over you was different than Jake did. Jake held a power over you that terrified you, your bond ran deep and though it was broken, you had never been able you get rid of it wholly.

The pair of them split and you immediately follow Rooster, he’s just in front of you and with every second you’re gaining on him. You’d need to get tone soon; Hangman would be circling back around any moment and on your ass.

“Hey, Chicken” Your words cut through the radio before tone rings out alerting everyone. “Your dead.”

You hear Rooster swearing over the coms, though you're too focused on finding Hangman.

“Where’d you go Hangy.” Your voice is condensing and as it slips over your lips, you level out to find him directly in front of you. The pair of you heading directly for the other.

“Hey, Cher” His laugh has you gritting your teeth, though neither of you hit the button to get tone, even though you’re directly in line.

“You really wanna do this?”

“I missed our games, sweetheart.”

Every second brings you closer, and you can hear chatter echoing through the radio from the rest of the dagger squad.

“You should know better than to play this game, Jake.” The name slips out, though you don’t even realize you’ve said it.

“Just break off Cher, easy as that.”

“Then you do it.”

“Y/n Marie Bishop,” Bob's voice cuts through and gains your attention. “break off. Cher, you don’t need to do this.”

You don’t reply and Jake’s right in front of you now. He doesn’t say anything either and you silently wonder if still remembers how the pair of you played it in the Academy before he ruined everything. You’d gotten caught a couple times and had your fair share of ass chewings. Though if there was anything Jake was good at, was sweet talk his way out of anything. Even when a higher-up was threatening to ground you.

There’s a round of voices echoing through the coms, even Rooster freaking out slightly. Though they fall silent to your ears as one voice echoes out.

“Y/n” Your name falls from his lips so gently that it makes your heart ache. The last syllable of your name passes Jake’s lips and you both break hard right, just barely slipping passed the other.

You’re not sure how to feel knowing that Jake had remembered; did it mean anything or was it just a random fact he hadn’t forgotten?

...

Before you know it you're back on the tarmac, slipping your helmet off and tying your flight suit around your waist. The afternoon heat had become unbearable, and your sweat had made your damn shirt cling to you like a second skin.

You see Hangman and Rooster both climbing from their jets, chatting back and forth, though you can’t hear what they’re saying. Hangman catches your eye, though doesn’t say anything. Maybe he would have if the rest of the squadron wasn’t making their way across the tarmac, Bobby leading them as his lethal gaze settles on you, not wavering in the slightest.

You step toward Bobby, as his eyes asses your sweating form. His hands settle on your shoulders, and you give him a tiny smile, knowing that you were about to get your ass chewed.

“You’re, okay?” The question doesn’t surprise you; Bob had always made your health and safety his first priority when it came to ripping you a new one.

“Yes, Bobby. In one piece, and ready for the Floyd ‘I’m disappointed in you’ speech.”

The answer causes him to laugh, before pulling you in for a hug. A quiet whisper of comfort is muttered against your shoulder and has you tightening your hold before pulling away.

By now the rest of the group, as well as Rooster and Hangman had formed around the pair of you. Your eyes move around the group and each of them looks at you in stunned but apprehensive silence.

“Bob might not be ripping into you, but I sure as hell don’t wanna be there for when Cyclone gets ahold of you.” Fanboy’s comment has a smile breaking across your lips, as you pluck your sunglasses from Bob’s shirt pocket. Bobby clicks his teeth before a small chuckle pushes pasted his lips as he shakes his head at you. Your eyes leave Bob and you give the rest of the squad an award-winning smile.

“You would be surprised just how good I can sweet talk someone,” You move towards Fanboy, and pat his chest gently as you pass. “Especially when it comes to my godfather.” The words are thrown over your shoulder, though you keep walking as a round of questions breaks out.

“Seresin, let’s move it.”

Your tone is harsh, though has both you and Hangman questioning when he became Seresin to you again.

...

“What in the hell were the two of you dumbasses pulling out there?”

Cyclone paces behind the desk that both you and Jake stand at attention in front of. Though before you can answer, Jake speaks up.

“It was my idea, sir.” Both yours and Cyclone’s head whip to look at Jake in bewilderment. “I wanted to make a point that this mission was serious, that it is life or death.”

Cyclone hums though his eyes don’t leave your own, “and you thought playing chicken, with government property, was the proper motivation.”

A sharp nod comes from Jake while his eyes remain dialed in on the bookshelf behind Cyclone.

“First of all, even without hearing the audio from the coms, I would always know this was something Lieutenant Bishop orchestrated.” Cyclone’s eye glances at you, though you’re quick to move your center focal point to something behind him. “Secondly, don’t think that I forgot about the shit you both pulled in the Academy.”

Your eyes follow Cyclone’s gaze to Jake as he mutters that last word. By the way, Jake’s eyes widen slightly and the harsh tone of your godfather, you know that your flight habits are no longer the topic at hand. The silent stare-down between them would be unsettling, if you didn’t know how big of softies, they both were. The clearing of your throat has them snapping out of the daze.

“I’m not grounding you, not when the mission is so close.” A sigh you didn’t realize you were holding leaves your body, you had yet to be grounded in your career, and the thought honestly scared you. The closest you fell to your parents was in the sky. “But I promise you, if either of you pulls that shit again, I’ll ground you the second the mission is finished.”

While you knew that Cyclone was being a hard ass, was because it was his job. On base, he would always be Admiral before Uncle, though the flash of worry in his eyes tells you that it wasn’t his only reason.

“Lieutenant Seresin, you’re dismissed.” Jake glances at you as he leaves though your focus remains forward, silently trying to figure out just how much Cyclone knew about yours and Lieutenant Commander Adams’ agreement. The clicks behind you and the sight of your uncle sighing so heavily does nothing to ease your worrying mind. A nod of the head to the chair directly across from his own causes you to sit.

“What did Adams tell you about the mission?” Your head cocks slightly, this was defiantly not the direction you thought and prepared yourself for.

“Only that Jake and Bradshaw were going to be here.” There you go again, how had he in such a short amount of time, have you back to using his first and last name. You had stopped using them after everything and started only calling him Hangman. He hated when you called him by his callsign, always said it was too impersonal.

Your uncle’s silence paired with the tick in his jaw, causes your chest to tighten. He was never this serious when it was just the two of you, that wasn’t the type of relationship you had. The last time you remember seeing him like this was the day your grandparents took you back to Texas, while you bawled and clutched onto him and your Aunt Julie begging them to change your grandparents’ mind.

“Y/n, Sweetheart, we need to have a talk.” You quietly suck your teeth, and your eyes instantly land on the file Beau sides across his desk. The bright red letters spelling out classified aren’t what catches your attention, it’s the black letter under it, in such blocky letters ‘BISHOP’ glares back at you.

“Honey,” your eyes leave the smile, and the small tremble in your bottom lip, confirms to Cyclone that you have an idea where the conversation is happening. “you were so young when everything happened. I didn’t have the clearance to tell you, even if I wanted to.”

You force a harsh breath through your nose, silently begging for whoever controlled the universe to not break you absolutely with whatever lies with those pages.

“But with you getting placed on this mission, Commander Kazansky, and I both agreed that you should know. That you had a right to know.”

The words catch in your uncle’s throat and have your eyes flashing to him. You wish that you’d have stayed focused on the file because seeing the eyes of one of the strongest men you know lined with tears makes it all worse. Makes whatever you’re about to read more real.

“What part of the story wasn’t true? What’s it have to do with this mission?” you’re surprised that he can even hear you, with how quietly the words slipped passed your lips.

“We’ve been watching the location, where the Uranium plant is for a long time, honey. It wasn’t a plant back then, it was supposed to be some ragtag militia group that broke off Russia’s military.”

Your hands twist in your lap as you boot intently taps on the floor. You can’t bring yourself to grab the folder, too consumed with the voices bouncing around in your mind. They hadn’t told you much back then, just that it was supposed to be an in-and-out mission. Things went wrong, and they lost him. They’d given you minimal details, you were only seven and you’d never questioned what happened.

Because you knew what happened.

Didn’t you?

“We didn’t have the right intel and it wasn’t until we were right over them, that artillery that rivaled ours at the time, started going off.”

A harsh breath leaves your uncle as he turns and pulls a 5th of whiskey from a bottom drawer. The seal is still intact and the snap of it echoes threw your ears, as your eyes slightly blur in and out of focus. A glass is sat in front of you, though you can’t seem to make a move for it.

“Your dad’s plane went down in a clearing; it was the perfect spot. The safest crash site we could have asked for.”

The shake of your uncle’s hand as he downs the rest of his glass has your gaze, you’d never seen him so unkept. Beau Simpson was the top of the top, the United States Navy’s poster child for god’s sake.

“He was gonna be fine, we’d already called in e-vac.”

The shake of his voice as your eyes refocusing and the red-rimmed eye’s staring back at you aren’t one’s you’d ever seen before. Not in this capacity at least.

“They appeared out of nowhere,” your jaw clenches and it’s surprised your teeth haven’t cracked. “they had him out of his plane, before any of us to circle around and get a shot.”

Your body lurches forward slightly and it feels like all the air had been ripped from your chest and the ringing in your ear only gets louder as your uncle talks.

“We were able to bring him home, the week before your mom passed.”

You hadn’t had a panic attack since you were a teenager, though the way you gasp for breath as the words break from you. “That was three years later.”

How you ended up pacing is beyond you,

“don’–” your hands brace against the back of your chair as you rock back on your heels. “Don’t tell me that they had him for three years.”

“That they held him captive for three years before you could get him.”

Your legs fall out from under you and cause you to harshly crash to the floor. Your breath shutters, as you wrap your arms around your knees. Your eyes fall in and out of a hazy as flashbacks of his funeral filter through your mind. “He was alive for three more years, and you swept it under the rug. They had a funeral...”

Your eyes meet Cyclone’s as he watches you, and it breaks you even more. He was fully prepared for you to hate him. You can hold his gaze, instead, you find the folder that lies on the desk still. Without a second thought, you scramble up for it, you knew that whatever it was going to break you. But you had to know.

Cyclone's hand lands on it at the same time yours does, holding it firmly on the desk.

“Sweetheart, you know now. You don’t need to see; I shouldn’t have even gotten the folder out.”

“I need to. I need to see just exactly what I’m going up against, the reason that I’m going to fly this mission and kill every last one of them.”

Your throat is raw with pain, though the drip of hate that seeps from it echoes even after the words died out.

The folder slides from your uncle’s hold and you grasp it cowering back to the corner of the room settling against the wall. The file just sits in your lap, and your hands shake while they ghost over the top though you make no move to open it. Cyclone doesn’t move from his chair and by the time your fingers pry the file open, you don’t know how long you’ve been sitting in silence.

The top page is just logistics and a few photos of the landscape you’ve studied endlessly over the last two weeks. Even after 23 years much hadn’t changed, sure they had a runway and a couple more buildings now, but you and your father had studied the same location.

Your tears had stopped falling by now, the realization that your mother had only lived long enough to get buried with your dad settles in. She had been so numb and broken, but still holding it together for you. Nights that you cried yourself to sleep, yelling at the universe for taking him from you. And yet she knew.

She knew that he was somewhere, possibly dead, possibly captive...

Death would have been easier, clean-cut. Without the constant wondering.

Without the small piece of hope that you’re, she held until the very end.

The next page has your stomach turning, and your hands shaking as they ghost across the page. Tracing the fuzzy images, and even though your heart aches, you could feel that blank numb feeling settling in with each page you flip. It’s the last page that kills something within you, your body acting on its own accord as it starts to shake.

It was your father

the lacerations lining his back and chest

the caved in eye socket and broken jaw

the burns and carvings spread across every inch of skin

it was your dad

but the once bright blue eyes were dimmed

dead

he was dead

three years of mutilation

23 years later and now you finally know

but even still it didn’t change that he was gone.

And somehow it felt like a piece of you was too.

Your feet push up from the floor, though the shaking in your hands remains. Your foot sets are slow and careful as you place the folder back on your uncle’s desk. Though the last page remains in your hands, slightly crumped from the grip you have on it.

Those first years in Texas were hard, you missed your parents, but you knew they were together at peace. Now, there still together and at peace... but the truth tares into you in a way that their death hadn’t even been able to.

“Y/n, sweetheart?”

You can barely find the strength to lift your eyes, and the sight of heartbreak looking back at you is only worse. Your head shakes, though the words can’t seem to form. You knew that he would want you to talk about it, but you couldn’t. Not with so much more on the line with this mission. You could finish what your father started; you could do one last thing for him. You would let the pain consume you for the next two days, but when Monday came, you’d shut it down.

Your nose sniffles and your eyes ache. You were tired, so emotionally and physically tired. A knock at the door pulls Cyclone’s attention though your eyes stay settled on the folder. You hear the voice and while you would usually have some snip to say to him, you had nothing. The whiskey bottle sets on the edge of the desk and the hand gripping the god-forsaken page reaches out and grasps it. Your hand drifts off the side of the table, you can’t seem to find the strength to carry it and so it just hangs at your side.

You turn to find a silent Rooster staring at you, they had been talking but stopped at some point now both of them quietly watching you. Your eyes glance back to Cyclone and you can see that he wants to talk, to protest your leaving.

“Not today. Not tell I finish this fucking mission.” Your empty hand points at Cyclone, though your voice lacks your usual conviction.

You can hear him start to say your name, though before he can you sidestep passed Rooster and leave. Your shoulders brush and cause the pilot to turn and watch your disappearing figure. Rooster glances back to Cyclone, though he doesn’t meet Rooster's gaze. His eyes stay settled on the folder on the desk and just barely Rooster can make out your last name.

...

The sound of the Hard Deck door has Bob’s head snapping up in hopes to see you. Jake had shown up two hours ago and said that Cyclone kept you to talk. It didn’t seem like anything out of the normal, plus Cyclone had made the comment about Adams, Bob was sure that you both were just having a good catch-up and laugh.

Though the uneasy face of Rooster coming through the door gains his and everyone else’s attention. It’s a little busier tonight, but Rooster makes it through the crowd in record time and aims straight for Bob.

“Something happened.” The comment is aimed at Bob, though it gains the attention of the whole group and causes them to surround the pair.

“What are you talking about?” Bob was usually meek and mild around the group, though with you missing and Rooster now, his voice comes out hard and demanding.

“Cherry, Y/n.” The use of your name doesn’t go unnoticed and the sight of Rooster now racking a hand through his hair and pacing causes an uneasy feeling to settle over the group. Before Bob can reply, Hangman’s voice cuts in and if you’d have heard it, you would have known that it was Jake. At that moment he was your Jake again.

“Bradshaw, stop fucking pacing and talk.”

“I don’t know what happened. I had to talk to Cyclone about some paperwork, but when I got to his office Y/n was there. Just standing in the middle of the room, gripping onto some paper and not saying anything.�� His pacing starts up again, though he keeps talking. “I was just going to ignore it; tell Cyclone I’d talk to him Monday. But the look in his eyes as he watched her, he was barely holding it together. Before I could leave Y/n grabbed the 5th of whiskey and went to leave, she was a shell, guys. Cyclone tried to stop her, and I don’t know what she meant, but I’d never heard her sound like that. Broken, completely vacant.”

“What the fuck did she say Rooster?” The curse word falls from Bob’s lip so naturally, it would call for some attention, though with the problem at hand, no one seemed to notice.

“She said ‘Not today. Not till I finish this fucking mission.’ The words were barely a whisper and then she was just gone. I caught sight of a file on Cyclone’s desk, was classified but it had Bishop blocked out across it.”

You and Bob had this location rule, that you would always keep it on for each in case something happened, and he had never been so thankful. He hears Hangman release a round of curse words as the group talk trying to figure out what to do.

The small dot that lights up Bob’s phone has him releasing a breath, though the location was on the edge of the water, and he didn’t have any idea where you would be around there.

“I’ve got her location, but I don’t ha–”

The phone is ripped from his hand by Jake and before Bob can say anything Jake shoves the phone back into Bob’s hand and turns to leave.

“You’re not going to see her, Hangman.” The comment halts Jake and causes him to slowly turn around and assess Bob. “You’ll just make it worse; you need to say here.”

Jake’s shoulders tense up and the five steps to Bob only take him two. The pair of them stand eye to eye and causes Javy to try and slip in between them.

“Floyd, don’t fucking test me right now.” Bob doesn’t falter at the words and instead steps that inch closer. “You might know a lot, but this, you don’t know fucking shit.”

Jake’s voice cracks slightly and Bob’s stance softens slightly.

“I know exactly where she’s at and I’ve got a pretty good idea of what it’s about. So, I’m gonna go and if you try and stop me, I’ll put you on your ass so fucking quick.”

“Thought she didn’t mean anything to you anymore?”

“She has and always will mean everything to me, Floyd. And right now, she isn’t Cherry. She’s the little ten-year-old that I hugged and held every day that first summer. That little girl needs me and I’ve fucked up a lot, but this. You would have to kill me, to stop me from helping Her.”

...

How you ended up back here, you’re not sure. Call it survival mode that took you back to your safe place. You hadn’t been here since you were fifteen, when you and Jake had flown in for your mother’s, and you guess your father’s, five years.

You’d stripped out of your flight suit after you finished 1/4th of the bottle, finding a pair of shorts in the back of your jeep. Then found your way out to the little cove, it was just off the trail you ran this morning and from it, you could watch the one place that should have been your forever home. But lost the glimmer and shine after they died.

You lift the bottle and the lightness of it has you looking at it in wonder of how you had already put over half the bottle away. Your toe’s dig deeper into the sand as you take another drink. The tears flow from your eyes freely and the burning sensation that should be in the back of your throat is missing.

The sound of feet walking across the slippery rock path, that’s slowly disappearing as the tide rises, gets your attention and you find the one face that you're surprised to see and yet not at all surprised. Jake was the only one you’d ever brought here, he was the only one you trusted enough once upon a time.

“Are you Hangman or Jake today?” Your eyes cloud over and cause you to look back out at the water as he stops just to the side of you. “Cause there’s only one of them that I’m gonna talk to.” You try to sound strong and sure of yourself, though the end breaks through with a small laughing cry.

“Hey, Darlin’.”

The name causes a sob to release from your chest and finally breaking down around the only person you’d ever let fully in. For this moment none of the bullshit matters, you’d need him. You needed your Jake, and he’d come.

His arms wrap around you as your chest heaves, and you can’t seem to catch your breath. Though the hand against the back of your head and the chest you rest against feels like home. He rocks you gently, whispering soothing words against the crown of your head, separated by a kiss every now and then.

Time seems to escape you, though you know it’s been a bit because the tide has risen, and yet Jake hasn’t let go of you once. Your breathing has finally slowed and matches his, grasping onto the one thing that has always grounded you. Even through the bullshit, the thought of Jake, not Hangman, but Jake always settled you.

“What happened, honey?”

Neither of you had talked, other than Jake’s quiet muttering, you had disconnected. You pull back from the warmth of his chest before your eyes then fall to the crinkled piece of paper sitting under the whisky bottle. You don’t make a move for it, you couldn’t look at it again. One of his arms slips from around you to grab the paper, and the small whimper that leaves your chest has Jake’s other hand tightening around you.

“I got you.” You cling to his shirt as another kiss is placed on the top of your head. The sudden tension that rips through Jake’s chest confirms that he’s finally looked and knows exactly who he’s looking at. Anyone could see the resemblance between you and your father, but Jake had come to know him on a deeper level. Through each picture, letter, and tearful night Jake knew him through your eyes. He knew what he meant to you.

Another shaky breath falls from your chest, at the thought of the image and Jake is quick to discard it. He leans back from you, to look at you, needing to see what was racing through your head. He lays a hand across your cheek and gently wipes the falling tears away.

“That was three years after his funeral.” He’d never seen you so broken, not even during the first years you lived in Texas. His brow creases in question and the words fall from your lips so vacantly. “They had him for three years, Jake. They... they... they”

The sentence doesn’t make it passed your lips, as another sob breaks from your chest. You fall back into his chest and the arms wrapped around you hold on to you a little tighter. You miss the shutter breath that matches your own, the harsh breath that shakes through his chest. The words try to break from your lips, but only quiet mutters bounce off of his chest.

“I know, darlin’.” You miss the tear that falls from him. “I’ve got you; I’m not going anywhere.”

You stay like that, curled up in Jake Serein’s lap. The home that you lost. And somehow found again.

He was your Jake again...

198 notes · View notes

alberivh · 3 years ago

Note

VEILLE CONGRATULATIONS FOR YOUR MILESTONE YOU DESERVE IT MY LOVE >_< !!!

can i request for first and last letter with childe? T^T childe has so much potential for angst,, thank you for this!! <3

The first and Last

summaries : where childe open his ‘safebox’ after a long time ever since your last appearence in his dream. and because of his undelightful sight of numbness and vulnerable feeling, he decided to read the first and the last letter from you, his dead fiancé.

character : childe x GN! Reader

contains : sickness (implementations of bronchitis), major character death, heavy angst, slight comfort/hurt, over all pure angst, mentions of losing weight.

A/N : hELLO AERI! Thank you very much for requesting this, i hope this suits your liking! (( also please do check aeri’s page @dilucbar for more interesting genshin fic and writing hehe ))

as childe breaks onto the ground of his empty mansion, his numbness began to drown him onto an exhaustion. An empty exhaustion to be exact. A simple pushed-over of his feelings are now an inexistent memory of his, he used to be so bright, but now, What happened to those charming smiles of his? Could it be burned by your ashes? Or did he just simply forgot how to provide his mistakes to love you? He doesn’t know either, All he could felt are just a simple empty tears, scrolling down through his cheekbones. making it seems like he still hide an emotions underneath the crack of his facades.

he drags his body into his bedroom. It’s heavy feelings occurs his way onto his side of the bed, drowning it scents onto his nose. It was pretty messy, full of untidied shirt, fragrance of a dandelion parfume, and most of all, which has always been in a perfect shape and form, covered by a red ribbon, a small box has been in ‘that’ bedside for about 237th days now. The box was an unpleasant sight for him, it was a remembrance for him to realize you were gone and you couldn’t be back. After all death have always craved those who loved him forever and after.

so tonight he decided to open this box. To bring back his vulnerable emotions back. to bring back those glazing eyes of his when he saw you buried underneath the rock of your tombstone. Numb and sorrow are all he could felt, excitement while opening this treasure of his lover pieces are nothing more than a natural hunch of his nature.

The box are full of your handwritten letters you’ve left for him. You’ve always collected the copied of your letter into this old wooden-tile box incase if anything happens to you, he could recollect his memory to remembered you again. ‘In the old days, if you lost your track, find me again through this box darling, sincerely, (name).’ Written in the top of the box instruction. He opens through the first letter of the stockpiles , it was one of your first letter for him. The most memorable one in fact. Written in the most familiar and comforting handwriting he has missed for ages.

to my dearest, ajax.

I haven’t seen you in ages, where have you been? Have you had a good time with the new recruits? Are you feeling well? Do you have any new interest while exploring the inner city of fontaine? AHH I HAVE SO MANY QUESTION FOR YOU, YOU SHOULD JUST BE BACK SO I COULD INTEROGATE YOU MOREE,, I was about to surprised you back then with a classic snzehnayan dish you’ve always craved for, but you know.. you just disappeared to a dust and it make me thinks you are a hallucination of mine, but now i’ve heard you have an amazing time in fontaine, i couldn’t help but smile and feel relieved. i’m glad you had a great time darling, Really glad in fact!

So please do bring me some souvenir as a return of your..compensation for keeping me waiting hehe, i’ll see you soon then!

from, your lover, (name)

It was your last letter you’ve sent to your lover, before childe came screaming on your name at the emergency room, searching for your figure to be embrace in his arm. To comfort you he said, despite the worries and sweats he witness while in his way to check your structure, you’re his fiance after all, He couldn’t lose you for everything, childe is too selfish to expect the best of you.

He remembers when he was feeding you, taking care of you like another baby-sibling of his and still loves you nonetheless. Maybe only childe could do it, he prepared everything for you, leading you with the wheelchair or even hand carry you in one arm if your condition lead you to be more clingy to him. He does it all for you, for you to be happy and stay a little bit more longer than he expected to be. Just for you to be more selfish, so death could wait longer for your arrival.

Bronchitis is the name of the disease, a deadly one in fact. If it were not taken care of, maybe you were already dead by now. Maybe it would be pointless for childe to scream your name in the emergency room, searching for you, anyone but you.

as you were coughing in his arms ; making many form of mucus in your lungs, while he carries you in his shoulder, patting your back so you could feel much more in ease. You feel so light now and you’ve lost so many weight, it worries him to the edge. Though your tenderness have always lingers onto his body, it still stressed him, you’re not supposed to be gone this fast, you’re supposed to be alive and well. Let him die, he is a murderer of the innocence yet he still live long and well. How ironic it is for the sinner to always stand as the first and the last?

“ajax..i’ve prepared so many things for you, these past days..though i would say i’m still scared of letting you go..”

“Hmm..and why is it my love?” , curious and in interest of knowing much more of your recent condition, he asked you straightforwardly. Voice gone anxious and body became colder than before, you find it precious how he always prioritize you over everything.

“i just don’t want to die..i don’t want to..this breathing ventilator sucks..i really want to be with you ajax, i really want to..” you were sobbing in his jacket, hiding your face in his embrace, not wanting him to see the awful side of you for being too egoistic for your own stability.

“just, ajax..if i left you..please take that box i’ve always brought..read the last letter if you’re ready..i loved you…so much..”

you’re lost in the snow, starting your new ways in heaven. Leaving him behind ; alone. even after encouraging you to stay longer than he will, though if he think it again, it was all a bullshit for you to stay. now, he is ready to witness the pieces of you he always wanted to knew, a new pieces of you to be loved again by him. Just please let it be a decent farewell, he didn’t ask for more, but just a decent love and farewell are all he could ask for.

opening in terror of expectation. he found himself to be quite charmed by the appearence of this letter. Sniffs and sobs crawling down to his cheeksbone, making it seems like he was finally reaching his emotions after the emptiness he felt these past seconds.

to, my dearest, ajax.

Ajax, You probably read this when i’m already gone. It might be hard to move on and live another life, still I hope your managing well in your current life, i’ll always look upon you my love. Just please do not harm yourself, i’ve always been worried about you since i lay in this painfully awful bed. So please, would you keep it mind..? i loved you so much that i have no hesitation to continue to love you more in the afterlife. I’m just too selfish for you, for you to withess nor to love.

I don’t think i’ll be able to send you all of my letters for you in this box i’ve always treasured. Though i have certain thoughts to be filled when i wrote this letter. I know i haven’t been a good lover for you, you’ve always taken care of me and i could only nod in gratitude. I really wish the god’s gave me two chance to live with you again, just for myself to stay even if it pains me. I don’t want to die, i don’t want to. I hope i could live another day everytime i sleep in your arms, i don’t want to lose another person because my time has losen up. I regretted this, everything.

And if in another life i could called you by your name again. Please do recognize me as your old lover. Thoug if it meant for me to forget about you, at least those deja vu from our past could bring you back to me. I do not beg for more sympathy from you, you’re too precious for me. You shouldn’t have suffer this much because of me. I loved you ajax. even if it were only the last chance for you to met me again in your dream or hallucination. I wish you a farewell, a pleasing farewell. I couldn’t bare someone to hurt because of their lost, just because i’m not strong enough to stay with you and outlived you.

Ah and remember the souvenir you gave to me from fontaine? i’ve always used it ever since you gave it to me. I don’t know if you realized it or not, but this gift from you have always been one of my comfort, it was the only pieces of you that i could remember when you were not here with me. I have no regrets that i still could hold into it until my death. So take it, it could be the only remembrance of me till the end of the 100 years of your life.

So ajax, know your worth. You are far from perfect yet the sight of you have always been one of the reason i’m alive. Don’t be too selfish to give someone a chance to survive, live well and die well. You’ve always have been my last memory of the lover i clearly love wholeheartedly. Love yourself for me, for you, and for the others who listen to your pleas. Found me again in the afterlife won’t you? I love you.

from, your old lover, (name).

he was crying in tears of hopeless numbness and sorrow. How many times has he been cussing a ‘fuck’ out of his mouth? He doesn’t even know, He lost count. He was crying in the ground, leaving puffy cheeks and eyes behind. your words are too much for him to bare. You are too kind for him, too much for him. The grief of losing you are already too much for him to bare. He doesn’t want to remember you are dead, he just wants to remember how much you loved him. It comforted him, always have been. But now you’re gone, he could only hold into the tiny box of his lovers oath. It’s a curse to be loved by you.

#ajax #tartaglia #childe #genshin impact tartaglia #genshin impact childe #childe angst #tartaglia angst #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin impact angst #genshin impact headcannons #genshin impact fanfic #childe fanfic #childe headcannons #childe x reader angst #tartaglia x reader angst

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inkribbon796 · 2 years ago

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Egotober 2022 Day 12: metalus bronchiectasis

Summary: Henrik gets sick and he doesn’t like the look of the thing he coughs up.

A/N: WARNING! for slight blood gore, it’s not much but it’s there.

Prompt: Metal

Characters: Henrik, Dr. Iplier, Anti

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31

Henrik had been sick for a couple days now. But it almost seemed selective. He was only sick at his house in the mornings and once he left and went home for the night he was fine.

It was weird and strange and Henrik didn’t like it.

He’d tried to clean everything. Henrik had even asked Anti about what he’d been doing if he had dragged something in. Anti said that he hadn’t and Henrik had no reason to disbelieve him. Anti usually hid the truth from him but he had yet to lie to him. Especially when the matter was serious.

But Henrik was at work. Fifteen people were confirmed for whatever mystery illness they were dealing with. Thirteen of them had died before or shortly after being admitted to the hospital.

Without knowing what they were dealing with, they couldn’t stop it. And it had a high likelihood of death as it was.

Any illness had to be scrutinized, and Henrik immediately reported his symptoms when he had gone into work on the first day. He was a few days in now and the symptoms were more annoying than troubling.

Henrik was in the cafeteria talking to Iplier.

“It’s weird,” Iplier said, stirring his soup.

“Ja,” Henrik said. “I am only sick in my home. It is very strange.”

“Sounds like it, you sure it’s stress?” Iplier asked.

Henrik opened his mouth to speak and when he breathed he started coughing violently into his mouth, gaping in-between coughs as he doubled over on the table.

“Shit! Hein!” Iplier said in surprise and worry.

Henrik was coughing for a couple solid minutes as Iplier just froze and stared at him.

The German doctor felt something come up from his throat but he was getting light headed and couldn’t do anything but hold onto the table in a death grip as he tried to turn away from the food and anyone else even with his mask.

Once he’d stopped and could actually breathe he was slowly letting go of the table and slowly straightened up. He was so concentrated on his breathing he didn’t realize there was something in his mask for a little bit.

“Henrik, we need to take you into the ER,” Iplier said.

“Vhat?” Henrik said before realizing how wet his mouth felt.

“ER, now,” Iplier said and grabbed him under the armpit and dragged Henrik down the hall and towards the ER.

As he rushed Henrik over to the ER, Iplier already making calls as they went, Henrik became aware that there was something hard in his mask. It wasn’t heavy enough to fall out, it was noticeable.

He was rushed to an isolated room as a doctor and a nurse rushed in. Both of them kitted up with protective gear and that’s when Henrik actually started to get worried.

“I’ll be right back,” Iplier said and rushed off, leaving Henrik with the other doctor and nurse as Iplier went right to clean up his hands and then get everything Henrik had touched gathered up to be checked because they had to find something.

Henrik was finally able to take his mask off and was shocked to find the front covered in blood and he suddenly realized why he’d been rushed off so quickly. And something almost fell out of the mask and Henrik saw something in the blood and mucus.

“Vhat is,” Henrik trailed off as he stared at all the blood on it. The object looked like a small ball bearing, about half the size of his pinky nail and covered in blood.

And Henrik tried not to panic. He was given x-rays and a check-up. He was directly put in isolation like some of their other cases.

He was kept in observation for the night and as he was on his phone, checking in with the other heroes, when Anti materialized in the room.

The glitch demon phased through the wall. “Sup.”

“Hallo,” Henrik greeted, looking up from his phone.

“Why you in the bubble?” Anti looked around the room.

“Bronchitis,” Henrik said. “Metal vas put into my lungs. Vas that you?”

Anti looked insulted as he walked over.

“If I wanted to kill you it would be a knife to the chest in the shower, you’d know it was me,” Anti said. “I don’t fucking poison people. I kill them. I don’t fuck around.”

Henrik kept a level stare at Anti. “Alright. You say it was not you. Then it was not.”

“Shouldn’t you be dead?” Anti asked.

“That is vhat everyone is asking,” Henrik said.

Anti frowned but suddenly he tensed and disappeared into a cloud of green static and flew towards Henrik’s phone and was gone by the time a doctor that Henrik didn’t recognize from the hospital. Another man in white scrubs was with him.

“Henrik von Schneeplestein?” The first doctor asked, he was in scrubs and a mask. He had shoulder length dirty blonde hair.

“Ja?” Henrik said.

“We need to move you to a different hospital, we need to have you in a better and more stable isolation room,” the doctor said.

“Alright,” Henrik said, a bit suspicious.

“A demon had already tried sneaking into this room, you are not safe,” the doctor said.

Henrik nodded and signed off to the transfer after reading through the paperwork. Then he was taken to an ambulance and moved towards a different hospital. Because of how late it was and how hectic the day was, Henrik actually fell asleep in the ambulance.

Anti did not willingly get into the ambulance, not liking the smell of the guys taking Henrik away but Henrik was a smart guy. He was an adult. Anti had come to trust his judgment.

So Anti glared at the car and quickly followed after it, wanting to keep a close eye on Henrik.

#Egotober2022 #Superhero AU #Masks and Maladies #henrik von schneeplestein #Dr. Iplier #Antisepticeye #Antistein #IRIS #illness #slight gore #blood

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antique-traveler · 3 years ago

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reeling with the feeling

thank you @shen-hongzi-backup for the prompt!!

Oh uhhh I'd die for something that involves Matt and Foggy at some hot spring or alternatively a warm bath because: sensory stuff half or completely underwater, water, your loved one in super warm funky floaty place.

hope this is something like what you were looking for :-)

(also yes the title is from splish splash don't come for me)

1.6k, T, mattfoggy

read it on ao3

To put it simply: Foggy felt like shit. He’d spent the last week wallowing in his own slime and mucus, and now, even after his sinuses were clear and his voice sounded almost human, he was still left with a full-body ache that made him just want to curl up in a ball on the floor until the entire world forgot about him. Matt, of course, had been completely insufferable throughout the entire ordeal: constantly texting Foggy to see if he needed anything, bringing him soup and tea and eucalyptus rub. Each little check-in from Matt made Foggy so warm all over that he worried his fever might have been coming back.

Today, he could almost see the light at the end of the tunnel. Sure, all of his limbs felt like they were being slowly crushed by boulders, but his brain fog was clearing up and breathing hardly took any effort at all anymore. He told Matt as much when he had called earlier that afternoon, and expected that to be that.

Until he heard a knock on his door a little after 5.

“Hey Fogs, how you feeling?” Matt called through the door as Foggy shuffled out of his bedroom. He felt a little embarrassed by his current ensemble: sweatpants covered in tiny Snoopy heads, an old Star Trek t-shirt, and a thick afghan wrapped tightly around his shoulders, but he decided that plague victims were entitled to comfort just as much as healthy people were.

Foggy opened the door and couldn’t help the fond smile that crept across his face. “Well, if it isn’t my own personal Florence Nightingale, here to help the frail and ill.”

Matt scoffed a little as Foggy let him inside. “Come on, drama queen, we both know you’re feeling better than that.”

“Let me have this, Matthew,” Foggy groaned. “My sense of humor has only just started to grow back into the empty spaces of my sinuses, I’ve gotta stretch my comedy muscles back out a bit.”

Matt laughed softly and took a step towards Foggy once the front door was closed. He leaned closer, lips pink and breathing quiet, and God was it tempting, but Foggy forced himself to press his fingers to Matt’s lips before they met with Foggy’s. This… thing between them, whatever it was, was still new. They still fumbled awkwardly around each other, laying out boundaries, learning how to kiss each other casually without bursting out into laughter, testing out different pet names to replace “pal” and “buddy” (“sweetheart” and “babe” were fair game, they’d decided, but “honey” and “sweetie” were absolutely off the table). They hadn’t even told Karen about it yet, that’s how new it was– though, knowing her, she’d probably figured it out already. The point is, Foggy didn’t want to ruin this amazing new thing they had together just by getting Matt sick from a simple kiss.

“Matty, babe,” Foggy said, “I would absolutely love to put my mouth on your mouth right now, but I’d really rather not become patient zero for the next Kitchen-wide flu outbreak.”

Matt scoffed. “You’re not contagious anymore, Fogs.”

“Oh, what, so you can smell contagion now?”

Matt raised an eyebrow; try me, it said.

Foggy laughed and shoved Matt’s chest lightly, and Matt at least had the courtesy to stumble back and pretend that Foggy’s push was strong enough to move him. “Fuck off,” Foggy joked. “What was I thinking when I decided to hang out with a human drug-sniffing dog?”

Matt just laughed and pulled his right arm from where it had been hidden away behind his back– Foggy was going to blame him not noticing that on his lingering brain fog. “Watch your mouth,” Matt began, “this human drug-sniffing dog brought you a present.”

“Oh, boy! Christmas came early this year!” Foggy said dryly, stepping close to examine the little jar in Matt’s hand. Natural Eucalyptus Bath Salts, the jar read in a condescendingly granola font. Matt smiled, apparently able to tell that Foggy had read the label, and Foggy took the jar out of Matt’s open palm, whispering giddily, “God bless us, every one.”

Five minutes later and Foggy was in the hottest bath of his life, breathing in the sharp eucalyptus scent swirling around in the steam. He cracked open an eye to see Matt clenching his jaw from where he sat on the lid of Foggy’s toilet, glasses foggy and hair beginning to be weighed down by the humid air. Foggy pursed his lips and sat up a little in the tub. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but don’t feel like you have to stick around. The smell is probably pretty overwhelming for you, huh?”

Matt swallowed and gave a small smile. “I’ve smelled worse,” he said unconvincingly.

Just then, Foggy had an idea. He wasn’t sure if it was a normal thing to ask for this early in a relationship, but he was sick and Matt was practically at his beck and call and he was going to milk that for all it was worth. “You know,” he said slowly, “you might feel a little better– you know, a little more relaxed or something, if you got in here with me?”

Matt’s jaw went slack and his cheeks turned a little pink, a rare expression that Foggy had begun to see more and more in the last couple weeks. “Wha– I–,” Matt stuttered before clearing his throat and pushing his glasses up his nose nervously. “Are you sure?”

Foggy smiled and felt his chest grow even warmer than it already was in the hot bath. “Yeah, I’m sure, sweetheart.”

Matt smiled shyly and stood up, removing his glasses and toeing off his shoes. Once his glasses were off, his smile turned darker as he unbuckled his belt and started to slowly slide off his pants. He lazily stepped out of them before undoing his tie. One by one, he unbuttoned his shirt, keeping his eyes firmly pointed towards Foggy beneath their heavy lids.

Foggy swallowed thickly and chuckled a little. “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” he asked, feeling himself getting hard under the water.

Matt cocked his head innocently, the little shit, and quirked an eyebrow. “Doing what on purpose?” He shrugged out of his shirt before pulling off his socks and letting his hands hover above the waistband of his boxer-briefs.

“Doing this– this fucking striptease,” Foggy laughed, rolling his eyes.

“Wow, Foggy, are you really that obsessed with how my body looks that you’d interpret me simply getting undressed like that? I mean, I knew that sighted people were shallow, but this is a new low for you, babe,” Matt said dryly, taking his time as he slid his underwear off and kicked them aside.

“Fuck off, I changed my mind,” Foggy said. “Get out of my apartment.”

“No, I think I’m gonna stay for a while,” Matt said as he stepped into the bathtub, carefully avoiding stepping on Foggy’s legs. He lowered himself into the water, sighing minutely as he settled in against Foggy. He was practically in Foggy’s lap, back pressed against his chest, framed on either side by Foggy’s legs. Foggy was sure he knew what he was doing, making that contented little sigh as he gently pressed himself against his erection, but at the moment he was far too lazy to do much about it. The bathtub was small, true, definitely not designed to fit two grown men, but the water was warm and the steam smelled medicinal and heavy and Foggy felt floaty all over– though, he wasn’t sure if he could attribute that last part more to the bath or the company.

Foggy wrapped his arms around Matt’s middle, pressing his nose into Matt’s hair, and Matt rested his hands on top of Foggy’s. Looking down at Matt, Foggy thought that the steam almost managed to obscure his many scars, make him look new and safe, almost like he had back at Columbia.

Matt began rubbing little circles into the back of Foggy’s hand with his thumb and he let out a low sigh. “Your skin is so soft,” he muttered, sluggish and quiet from the hot bath. He grasped one of Foggy’s hands and brought it up to his lips, kissing each knuckle reverently. “Wanna touch you all over.”

Fuck, Matt was really not making it easy for Foggy to ignore his boner right now. Once they got out of here and toweled off a little bit, Foggy was absolutely gonna push Matt onto the bed (or the couch or the floor or wherever the fuck they ended up) and let him go to town, but at the moment he really just wanted a distraction. “Jeez, Matt,” he started, “I can’t believe a blind man would be so shallow as to want me only for my body. Am I just meat to you?”

Matt laughed then, full and bright and loud, and clutched Foggy’s hand to his chest. “God, I love you,” he said absentmindedly, and… huh, that was new.

Foggy had been pretty sure that they both Loved each other, capital L, but neither of them had said it yet. It had certainly been inferred that night when they each drunkenly confessed their feelings for each other before passionately making out and then fucking on Matt’s couch, but Foggy was pretty sure that most couples waited a couple months before busting out the capital-L-love-you’s. Was that what they were now? Like, an official couple? (Does he like-like me? Foggy mocked in his head. Are we boyfriend-and-boyfriend now? Should I ask him to go steady with me?)

Foggy squeezed Matt against his chest and sighed into the hot water. “I love you, too, Matty.”

#my fic #daredevil #mattfoggy #matt murdock #foggy nelson #matt murdock x foggy nelson #avocados at law #netflix daredevil #nmcu

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221bshrlocked · 4 years ago

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Good Hands.

I was minding my own business working and then a friend sent me a tiktok of Agent Whiskey explaining to Eggsy how their trackers are activated when inserted in a mucus membrane and he has the kriffing audacity to use two fingers while miming upwards and I just...I had the worst idea for a drabble and I hate myself...so um, proceed with caution I guess. Also, refer to link for demonstration cause I don’t know how to make gifs because I’m an idiot.

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1A39ViY3hEIn_M4t4zxvk_m34NaWY1sAJ/view?usp=sharing

“Don’t you get in that car with him darlin’.” You could hear Jack’s anger seeping into the earpiece and knew you were in for a lecture once you got back to headquarters tonight. If, if you got back. Turning around, you saw him standing at the bar, twirling his favorite drink while smiling at the model standing next to him. His smile was forced and it was all the tell you needed to know that he was mocking you with the endearment.

You made eye contact with him for a split second before turning back to the target, whispering something in his ear before purposely leaving your clutch behind so he doesn’t suspect anything. As you swayed through the gala towards the bathroom, you thought of the many different ways this night could end, cringing when you realized most of them didn’t really end well for you.

As you pushed through the private bathrooms, you made sure no one was in the stalls before tapping on your earpiece.

“We need the data Jack, I have to go with him.”

“You sure as shit don’t have to go with’em.” You could hear him more clearly now and knew he was probably walking around looking for you.

“Your tracker ain’t workin’ love, where the fuck are you?” Oh, he wasn’t going to like this one bit.

“You’re going to hate me b-”

“Fucking hell Agent, we’re goin’ have a long, serious talk about your choices. I won’t ask again, where the fuck are you?” He hissed through the earpiece, and you could hear him breathing heavily, the harsh sounds making it harder to focus.

“I’m in the second floor bathrooms. But wait, you need t-” Before you could finish your sentence, Agent Whiskey was barging through the women’s restrooms like he owned the place, locking it behind him before strutting towards you and grabbing your upper arm.

“J-Jack..”

“Shut up.” You saw the way his eyes dilated and you weren’t sure if it was because he was furious or because he was mere inches from your face. He narrowed his eyes down at you before pointing a finger at your head, silently telling you to stay put. Checking every stall, he made sure no one was there before taking off his jacket and throwing it on the counter.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

“I’m fucking improvising sweetheart, because you just had to go and fuck up the mission. Goddamn rookie is what you are.” You watched as he unbuttoned his cuffs, rolling up his sleeves and never once breaking eye contact with you.

“I-I’m sorry.” Jack slowed down and clenched his jaws. The last thing he wanted was to make you think you weren’t safe with him. “I’m not gonna hurt you darlin’. And I ain’t goin’ to let anything happen to you either. You understand?”

“Yes.” You whispered in response, ignoring his heavy scent and the way he seemed to breathe a little heavily as each moment passed by.

“Yes what?”

“Yes Agent.”

“Atta girl.”

He could tell you were having a hard time looking anywhere else but his arms and when he made sure he’d rolled them far enough, he stepped towards until your back hit the wall.

Fishing for something in his pockets, he took out a small tracking device and showed it to you.

“You know what this is darlin’?” His voice was much lower than before and shook your head when he brought it closer to you.

“This is a tracking device. It’ll go undetected if he searches. I can’t let you go in blind baby and this is the only option we have since you’re going to lose that earpiece.” He was calmer than usual and you had a feeling he wasn’t liking the plan he had but you knew he wouldn’t have suggested it if there was another option.

“This is activated when inserted in a mucus membrane.” Agent Whiskey waited a few seconds until you caught up with him, eyes widening in horror when you realized what he was asking of you.

“I hate this as much as you...well, no probably not as much as you sweet girl. But I’m not going to lose you. It ain’t an option.”

A few seconds passed in silence and he sighed in relief when you nodded and began to inch up your dress.

“Now, do you want to do it baby or-” He didn’t want to make you feel worse and hoped he didn’t come off as some jackass that wanted to get in your panties. But something about the way you were looking at him now, all shy and vulnerable, had him praying you’d give him the honor of-

“I- I’m sorry, I...can’t. Could you-”

“Relax gorgeous. It’s only me, I got you. Not goin’ to hurt you, I promise.” Jack stepped closer until the two of you were breathing the same air and he smiled reassuringly as he leaned down and helped you bunch up your dress. He ignored the way his cock twitched in his pants when he got a glimpse of the red lace covering your sex. You reached out and held onto his shoulders as he pulled your panties down, swallowing the lump in your throat when you saw the way he was shutting his eyes and clenching his jaw muscles, almost as if he was barely holding himself back.

“Fucking hell darlin’,” you shivered at his hoarse and gruff tone, finding it harder to hold back from moaning when you felt the featherlight touch of his fingers over your soaking slit. His grip tightened around your hips and you watched as he licked his lower lip before pushing two fingers inside your cunt. There was no mistaking the growl that escaped him when he felt just how wet you were and your knees almost gave out when he pushed against you and you felt his hard dick hit your navel.

“I’m a-almost done baby, shit.” His pupils were blown wide and the soft chocolate brown color you’ve grown to love were no where in sight. You melted into his arms, flushing in embarrassment when you clenched around his fingers and saw the way he seemed to lean into you. You weren’t sure what he was doing and you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, when you had the Agent Whiskey between your thighs and having his way with you. Jack has never looked as focused as now and you thought of teasing him but knew better. No one got away with teasing Agent Whiskey. And to be honest, you were drunk on power knowing how much he was focusing on you in this moment, as if no one else existed outside this bougie room.

“J-Jack...” You couldn’t hold back the almost pornographic moan even if you tried, shutting your eyes and letting his lips swallow your sighs when you felt his fingers go deeper into your pussy. He expertly slipped the tracking device inside you, sucking on your tongue and lips as he continued to finger you. You held onto him tightly, letting him have his way with you until you were a moaning mess. As soon as he curled his fingers and brushed against that intimate spot inside you, you came around him, throwing your head back and scratching his neck as he kissed and licked your throat.

You shuddered in his arms, barely acknowledging him when he pulled away from you and pulled your panties up. You were still flying on cloud nine, hazily turning your attention back to him as he fixed your dress and hair. He made sure you were looking at him before sticking his two fingers inside his mouth and humming in ecstasy at the taste.

“You taste fucking divine sweetheart.” Jack didn’t bother to roll his sleeves down, grabbing his jacket before pulling you out of the bathroom, and making sure no one was outside.

“I’ll be nearby, don’t you worry your pretty little head. Once you have the data, get outta there and look for a black Jaguar. You got that.”

“Y-yes Agent.”

“Good girl. And we’re not done here, you and I are goin’ to have a long, hard chat when you get back. You got that?”

“Yes sir.”

“Off you go gorgeous.” He smacked your ass as soon as you turned around, wrapping his lips around his fingers one last time to get a taste of you before walking the other way and finding an exit out of the building.

This mission certainly proved to be more interesting than you initially thought and you smiled as you returned to the target, knowing very well that you were in, quiet literally, good hands.

#i don't know where this came from #i'm currently at work #and the anon asks got me hot and bothered #and the tiktok video didn't help #agent whiskey #jack daniels #agent jack daniels #agent whiskey/reader #jack daniels/reader #agent jack daniels/reader #pedro pascal #kingsman the golden circle #agent whiskey x reader #jack daniels x reader #agent jack daniels x reader

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equestrianwritingsstuff · 3 years ago

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Oh damn. Your drabble "Drowning" has given me IDEAS....

I can just see hero managing to stop villain from killing Supervillain, but Supervillain still being injured/ getting pneumonia from the water in his lungs... and how awkward it would be for hero to take care of someone who'd just tried to drown her.

This idea is fantastic! I hope that this was an ask to do it. If not, I apologize, but this was just such a great idea!

May get a little sad at the end (spoiler alert)

Drowning Part 2

Part 1

Warnings: concussion, CPR, death/killing mentions, descriptions of how someone was going to kill another (never acted upon), classic sick and delirious whumpee, sedatives mention, descriptions of medical setting and practices, mentions of loved ones death, pills (tylenol), hallucinations

Villain grabbed the knife, his fingers clutching the hilt until they glowed white. Supervillain was breathing heavily, yet he was still unconscious- lips parted and blue.

Hero also moved forward, her legs tensed and ready to pounce. The scene registered in her mind very quickly. The knife, the villain, and the heaving supervillain... blood and then the inevitable stop of breath.

It didn't have to be inevitable.

Hero rushed forward, grabbing a metal rod, and landed the blow directly to Villain's temple. He faltered, letting go of the knife and collapsing into Hero's awaiting arms.

"M Hhh," he breathed, bleeding head lolling in the crease of Hero's elbow. His eyes shifted from focused to unfocused in a matter of seconds, only to fluctuate back. Here flipped out her phone and called her medic.

"Hero! You alright?"

"Yeah I'm fine. Get to Supervillain's base. It's empty. Villain has a bad concussion, he's not entirely lucid right now..."

"Oh uh, um... I'm on my way." The line clicked.

Hero laid Villain against the wall, cupping his heavy head for a moment before tending to the unmoving supervillain. He wasn't breathing.

Hero quickly felt for a pulse and upon finding a soft thump-thump, she tilted his head to the side. Water immediately gushed out of his nose and mouth. He sputtered a little bit, but never woke.

Hero pressed her lips against Supervillain's after rolling his head back to the center. She breathed into his mouth four times, checked to see if he began to breathe. No.

She continued this. Breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe, check... breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe, check... until the supervillain gasped for breath, choking and coughing out water and mucus.

Supervillain jerked himself forward, glancing at Hero to Villain and then back at Hero.

"H-" another coughing fit with more water. He started to gag, dry-heaving until tears spiked his eyes and nausea rose in his throat. When he was done, he scrambled to his feet and tumbled towards the open door to his base.

Hero returned to Villain's side and scooped her friend up. Medic wasn't there, so she decided to take him herself. Caressing his head, gently, she followed Supervillain outside and to her base.

The next day, Hero was walking along a sidewalk on her way home from visiting Villain in the hospital. It was a nice day, a great change from her near-death experience with Supervillain the day prior... Hero shuddered, trying not to think of the agonizingly cold water, the darkness lapping at her vision, knocking Villain out... the whole ordeal.

Knocking Villain out... Hero replayed the conversation she just had with her very ungrateful ex-frenenemy (apparently?). The half-dazed cusses and just plain rudeness from the bedridden patient were more than enough to make her feel annoyed. She saved Villain from committing an act that would have surely land him in jail- if not a mental facility. Especially the way the concussed villain talked about killing Supervillain. Apparently, Villain was going to slowly kill him with the knife, decorating major body parts with cuts and blood.

Hero sighed. That sadistic little turd that couldn't just walk away-

A groan.

Hero looked up to find herself walking in front of an alleyway. It was dark, if that's not a little too cliche, and eerily quite. Not even a stray cat knocked over a garbage can like in every classical alleyway scene.

Hero entered the alley stealthily, opening her holster and lying her hand over her gun. She looked behind every dumpster and every cardboard box. Finding nothing, she proceeded to leave, but two hands grabbed her mouth and throat.

Being yanked backwards sent a spark of adrenaline through Hero's veins. She turned and thrashed, but her attacker was unrelenting.

"Let me go!" Hero yelled when a large hand slipped away from her mouth. The other hand went away too. Pulling her gun out, Hero spun around, only to have a fist meet her face.

The impact startled her, but not as much as the body leaning heavily against her's.

The body heaved and gasped, heat radiating off its skin. Hero looked down and took in the features. She couldn't see a face, but it was obviously a guy. Hero dragged the man over to the only bare spot against the brick wall and leaned him aaginst it. She began to step away, only to realize that his head was resting against her shoulder.

"Hey," Hero mumured and grabbed the man's cheeks, holding him up, examining his face...

Hero nearly dropped the pale face.

It was Supervillain.

Also known as the man who tried to kill her.

Hero, for a brief second of primitive logic, contemplated leaving the feverish man to deal with himself. But guilt, and maybe a twinge of annoyance, drove her the complete opposite direction.

After all, she didn't just save him and give Villain a concussion only for him to die, right?

Yet as she scooped her attacker up, two portions of her brain- her sensible part and her empathetic part- played tug-of-war with each other. Drop him, bring him home, drop him, bring him home...

Of course the empathetic clump of cells won and she bridal-carried the shivering supervillain to her apartment.

She set Supervillain on her beige couch with a blanket strewn over his lap. He just had a cold right? She brought him some tylenol and a glass of water.

"Hey," she said softly, almost a whisper. Supervillain seemed so disconnected that she was afraid that she would startle him. His eyes were glassy and had an abnormal, faraway look.

Supervillain didn't reply, or look at Hero. His gaze was fixated on a corner of the living room.

Then, like a bomb suddenly going off, he started to cough.

He coughed until blood, water and mucus gushed from his mouth. He hacked it up like a waterfall. Hero stood up, linked her hands under his shoulders and hauled him into a better sitting position.

He coughed until he was sobbing, screaming. He fell back against the cushions, sputtering and crying, with tears streaming down his face. Each breath seemed to be a workout- shaky and shallow. He never made eye contact with Hero. Just stared ahead, coughing and crying.

"Are you okay?" Hero asked, loudly, but she still doubted the sick supervillain heard her. She placed a hand against his back, rubbing circles. It was just a cold- she was certain.

But he was so hot.

So unnaturally hot.

Hero frowned and went to grab a thermometer. She placed it against Supervillain's lips, but he didn't open them.

"Come on now," she coaxed gingerly and rubbed his flushed cheeks. She sighed. She didn't even need to know the temperature to know that the sick man infront of her had a fever.

Supervillain parted his mouth open and allowed the pointed metal edge to find a home under his tongue. He tried to move it around, but his resolve was too weak. Hero held it there until it beeped. 102.9

102.9 degrees fahrenheit. Nearly 103 degrees...

"Oh gosh," Hero exclaimed and dumped a couple tablets out of the tylenol bottle. She coaxed them onto Supervillain's bacteria-lidden tongue and pressed the glass of water against his bottom lip.

"Drink," she whispered. Supervillain obeyed and took a sip just big enough to force the pills down.

"Good job," she praised and lowered Supervillain down. Only for him to start coughing again.

"Take it easy, honey," she murmured. Honey? Where did that come from? Come on Hero, she scolded herself. The guy just tried to drown you the other day; you don't have to make this even more awkward or embarrassing.

Supervillain leaned into her. His firey body nearly made Hero begin to sweat. His eyelids drooped, breaths slowed, and soon he was alseep in her arms.

Hero knelt there by the armrest, alone with her intense thoughts. She rubbed his moist hair, allowing her nails to scratch at his scalp. Even alseep, she hoped it gave some comfort.

Not that he exactly deserved comfort. Villain was in a hospital bed, sleeping off sedatives and painkillers greedily and dealing with a major concussion. She thought of the grim night the doctors and her shared. Restraining a delirious villain, the MRI, all the tests... and then finally given the clear to inject a moderate sedative dose to help him sleep.

But Hero still gave the undeserved comfort. Maybe she was too empathetic, too caring and generous for her own good, but that matter could be taken care of another day.

Supervillain awoke a few hours later to Hero'd strawberry smelling hair resting against the top of his head. Her arms dangled across his chest as if she was giving him a hug from behind. She fell alseep mid-hug.

Of course, the supervillain did not register this interaction as that. He imagined it more as encompassing tendrils of ivy tying him down to a foreign object. He squirmed, trying to break free of Mother Nature's restraints, but he was too sick, too weak, and too helpless to do much more than move around.

Hero then woke up also, pulling her arms- the so-called vines- off the terrified supervillain's body.

"Good morning," she yawned and pressed a hand against her ward's forehead. Supervillain didn't seem to know what to do. He wavered between pushing forward into the hand- or the frustratingly threatening boulder to him- or pulling away. He chose the later, jerking away only to send a rush of mind reeling dizziness through his head.

He swayed, or he thought he did for he was still lying against the couch as if a magnetic force attached him to it. Reaching out weakly to grab Hero's hands, he closed his eyes.

"You are so sick," Hero cooed, her voice a mixture of both anxiety and tranquility. Supervillain gripped her tighter and tried to pull himself up to her.

"Shh, shh," Hero whispered. "Sleep."

Supervillain seemed like he nodded. Or was it due to him loosening up as he fell asleep again? Hero didn't know, nor cared.

She stood up and laid a blanket over Supervillain before heading into the kitchen to make a bland chicken soup and a small bowl of rice.

After the meal was done, about thirty minutes later, Hero returned to Supervillain on the couch with a portable plastic table and the food. She propped the still sleeping man into a sitting position before awakening him.

Supervillain blearily opened his eyes, blinked, and settled his gaze on Hero's eyes. He twitched his head upwards, but that was all. Hero didn't even think he noticed the steaming food on the table beside him.

"Want to eat?" She asked, more to herself than anyone. Supervillain looked at her with those wide, brown eyes like he did right before he attempted to drown her.

"Mnh," Supervillain groaned. "M chest hurts."

"Your chest hurts?"

"Mhm."

Hero tentatively lifted his shirt, but the feverish man didn't seem to care, or realize the possible intimate gesture.

"Let's take this off, shall we?"

Supervillain nodded, which made Hero nervous. Why was he being so compliant?

Nevertheless, she striped his shirt off and examined his ribcage. She had him take a couple deep breaths, but the movement seemed to exhaust him further. His ribs seemed a bit swollen, but nothing was broken.

Then a horrid realization dawned on her.

He had pneumonia. Most likely due to the water still festering in his lungs.

"Ooookay," Hero breathed. She would deal with that later, maybe call Medic- no, no one could know that she was housing the Man of Terrors- but first she had to get some food into Supervillain's stomach.

So she spooned, mouthful by mouthful into Supervillain's parched mouth slowly. She cleaned any broth dripping down his chin with a washcloth.

After he finished eating, Supervillain was so exhausted that he nearly fell alseep with his neck bent awkwardly. Hero readjusted him to a laying position, but elevated him slightly to ease his ragged breathing.

Pneumonia.

That would explain the harsh breathing and the daunting fever. Gosh, was he sick and so sudden too. Hero sat next to Supervillain, rubbing his hair back from his sweaty forehead like a caretaker.

Even though it was awkward, given the circumstances and past events, Hero stayed with him all night. Easing his pain, feeding him small bits of rice and soup, taking off blankets and putting them back on, wet washcloths and fans. Sometimes she would doze off on his chest, but never for long.

Whatever connection and trust built up between the two that night was unbelievable. Extraordinary, even. But still, nothing, not even with the newfound relationship, prepared Hero for the one simple and innocent yet insanely heartbreaking word that sickly Supervillain uttered.

"Mother?" He squeaked, looking up at Hero with eyes so full of love and relief that they looked about to burst. Hero felt her heart break, shattered to a million pieces as her guest extended his hand to her face.

"Am I in heaven?" He asked in such a childish manner. He looked around, but frowned at his surroundings. "Mother? You're dead right? Am I dead too?" The previous chirpy voice lowered to Supervillain's desolate montone.

Hero didn't know what to say, for Supervillain gazed at her with all the intent he could physically muster.

She could give into the hallucination and play along, but guilt would eat her alive. But, she thought it rude to just blatantly say, "No. You're mother is dead. It's me, Hero."

Supervillain whimpered, chin trembling as he began to cry. Hero winced, but then realized:

She said those words outloud and now she had a grieving, delirious, and sick supervillain to tend to. Great, just great.

#villain whumpee #supervillain whumpee #hero caretaker #tw death mention #sick whumpee #pneumonia #writing #heros and villains #feverish whumpee #feverish villain #hero x supervillain #maybe?#delirious whumpee

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mythicamagic · 4 years ago

Text

Funeral Flowers: a Sesskag Oneshot

Summary: Sesshoumaru knows what Kagome's favourite flower is- because it just so happens Forget-Me-Nots have been filling his throat for months. Hanahaki Disease fic. Sesskag oneshot.

AN: for @drosselmeyerwrites, who is also a lover of the 'suffering Sesshoumaru' trope. She's been a lovely commenter and wholesome person in the fandom ^^

Warning: body horror elements. This is a Hanahaki Disease fic with a twist on the concept.

Words: 10,000

Rated M

@cookieasylum drew an amazing fanart for this fic so please check this fic out on Ao3!

Funeral Flowers

It started as a mere flutter. Sesshoumaru could feel it at the back of his throat: the beginnings of something that tickled and irritated his windpipe- not enough to cause anything serious, but just noticeable. This sensation only worsened with time.

Kagome looked at him like he'd grown a second head after hearing him stifle a certain noise clumsily behind his fingers.

"Huh," she mused, peering closely at him. "I don't think I've ever heard you cough before."

After a few weeks, he'd begun coughing. A little blemish that he could easily hide behind his hand. Sesshoumaru had wanted no one to notice such a shameful thing. An unwilling action, but required in order to clear his airways.

"Hn," peeling long fingers away from his down-turned mouth, he looked away. Kagome shifted bare legs in the glittering water, lounging on some rocks by a river while half-heartedly sunbathing in a tank top and shorts. Golden eyes slid back to the slim, pale stretch of her smooth, toned leg as she swayed it.

"Kind of a human action, isn't it? Do demons even get colds?" her concern only seemed to increase. "You're not sick, are you?"

"No," he huffed, adjusting himself beside her. They kept a respectable distance. 'Friends' was what she called them. Sesshoumaru tried and failed to tear his gaze away from the parting of her thighs as she stretched languidly. "I do not get sick," he added, "such a thing is beneath me."

Kagome slid both arms behind her head to act as a cushion, laying down. "A few years ago you'd have said sitting beside a priestess ankle-deep in a river would be 'beneath' you. Things change."

Sesshoumaru tilted his chin up to regard her haughtily and gave a dignified snort, adjusting his rolled-up hakama pants. "It is beneath me."

Kagome rose a brow, fluttering one hand carelessly in a shooing motion, "go on then. Leave if it's so offensive," she sighed, trying and failing to hide her smile.

No.

His body flared alive at the thought, unsettled. Sesshoumaru bit back another prickling cough, settling for clearing his throat. "You should be the one to leave. This one was here first."

"Wha- no! I got to the river before you!"

"I was referring to age. Bratty mikos should listen to their elders."

Kagome burst out laughing, sitting up to lightly bat his shoulder. "That makes you sound ancient! You're such a dork. No one else knows how much of an absolute dork you are, do they? It's a crying shame."

Sesshoumaru did not know what a 'dork' was, but he assumed it to be something unflattering. He should've been annoyed by it, aggravated. Kagome's playful, happy scent made this notion impossible.

Thin lips twitched at the edges, dragging his heels through the cool current. He couldn't honestly put into words why exactly he'd shown up, following her scent. Logically, he knew he should leave her alone.

They fell into an amicable silence again, one that had been born from months of time spent together. Odd snatches of coincidental meetings had flourished into something more, and they'd begun seeking one another out for company whenever he visited the village. Sometimes she even paid him a visit the Western Stronghold. Any demons who complained about it were silenced by how… determined the miko was to make friends. A force of nature. It had amused him to no end watching ancients tripping over themselves to try to avoid her bad books.

He could also deeply understand those who had taken an immense liking to her.

Kagome was warm and teasing, a rare thing not wholly unwelcome. Her stories of the future were interesting, personality vibrant but down to earth and occasionally sassy. He enjoyed her more than he should, a quiet, snarky male by nature basking in her effortless glow.

"What's your favourite flower?"

He blinked, "this is a question belonging to Rin. I do not expect such fanciful notions from you."

Kagome huffed and flicked her hand to splash some water over his knee. "I can talk about flowers if I want to. Shinto asked me what mine were, so I got to thinking. I'd like to know what yours are too- or do pretty dog demons baring flower crests not have an opinion on them?"

He sniffed, bringing down one leg to create a splash that soaked her side. Kagome let out a yelp. "The Shiragiku flower. "

"Oh you can't be serious!" She giggled. "When I asked what your favourite colour was, you said 'white' of all things. White! That's the absence of colour!"

"This one is aware. You kept rabbiting on about it," he wiped some imaginary lint off one shoulder.

"But still! And now you tell me you like flowers that are infamously used for funerals," blue eyes rolled skyward, glittering with mirth. "Why am I not surprised, Mr Killing Perfection?"

Thin lips lifted into a sneer free of malice. "Very well, Shikon miko. What is your favoured flower?"

Kagome hummed. "Forget-Me-Nots."

Letting out a noise between a huff and a chuckle, he shot her an exasperated look. "And you give me grief over mine. Did you not say that blue was your favoured colour?"

"Hey, Forget-me-Nots can be pink, white or blue! I'm not as predictable in my tastes as some people."

That was most definitely true, he thought flatly. She had moved on from her first love, a Hanyou- only to bond with a Daiyoukai, and then…

And then…

Kagome stood, stretching both arms above her head. Sesshoumaru knew what she'd say before she even said it, wincing and bringing a hand absentmindedly to the base of his throat. It throbbed. Now the ache even seemed to seep lower.

What is this pain in my chest? He wondered. What is this strange sensation?

"I should go."

Sesshoumaru slid tired attention up to her and nodded silently. He would not wish her well.

"Shinto will wonder where I am," she needlessly elaborated.

"Indeed."

Kagome glanced at him and dropped her arms. "What's wrong?"

He thought to tell her, not for the first time. But it was silenced by everything else that had come before. Their history. Their species. Her lack of discernible interest, her new flame. A heavy weight pressed down upon his chest. His shoulder ached.

"Nothing. I am fine."

Dark brows pulled together. Sesshoumaru stood and nudged her away with a single palm on her back that lingered too long. "Go. I am… merely hungry."

"Oh!" a look of relief swept over her face. Kagome laughed, "okay, I'll leave you in peace. Happy hunting!"

Sesshoumaru felt his chest ache and constrict while his expression remained a blank mask. He covertly winced after she'd jogged away to a trail within the forest that would take her back to Kaede's village. She stopped to wave, and he quickly wiped his expression clean again, rendering it neutral.

Kagome smiled gently, her face full of friendly affection. Sesshoumaru regally inclined his head, eyes burning.

Do not go.

She left him alone, hurrying away to see her new flame in complete ignorance.

Sesshoumaru coughed and massaged the base of his throat as soon as she was gone, frowning.

Feeling something stuck to the roof of his mouth with his tongue, he curiously parted his lips and reached behind a sharp tooth to pluck the soft, small thing out.

Damp from saliva, a tiny, pretty blue petal caught his attention, clutched between forefinger and thumb. Sesshoumaru stared. A sense of creeping foreboding slipped into the back of his mind at the discovery.

This did not bode well.

---

His affliction made visits to the village difficult. It was easier in the beginning when he could hide a few coughs and tickles of the throat. Steadily, however, the discomfort increased. Sesshoumaru needed to pick out petals from his mouth every day, and the number of them only grew with frequency. He had to remove the irritating little things every hour now.

"Lord Sesshoumaru has been picking at his teeth a lot lately," he heard Rin whisper to Jaken, pausing mid-brush. She had been tasked with caring for the old miko's horse. "Is it a toothache?"

"Shh! Don't comment on such a thing so loudly, girl! If Lord Sesshoumaru wants to do some teeth maintenance, then he may do so!" Jaken squawked, frowning up at her.

Sesshoumaru cut golden eyes to the sky and turned away.

"Ah, I didn't mean to insult you, Lord Sesshoumaru!"

"You're STILL drawing attention to it!" Jaken griped.

Pointed ears twitched, blocking out their animated voices and tuning into a set of quick footsteps. Sesshoumaru inhaled, wincing as his lungs protested- the scent of citrus, summer and home comforts reaching him long before Kagome appeared from around the side of a hut. She beamed. His heart ached.

"Hey," she called, trotting over.

"Hello, Kagome!" the little girl waved enthusiastically, wobbling.

Steadying Rin atop her wooden perch as she continued brushing the tall horse, Kagome flashed him a knowing look. "You look tense. Is it from being near the stables?" she teased.

Rin gasped, "does Lord Sesshoumaru not like horses?"

"It's their smell, you nitwit!"

Kagome frowned at Jaken, before searching Sesshoumaru's face for answers. Obviously his silence and demeanour was starting to worry her. Taking a breath, he tried to ignore the petals stuck in the gaps of his teeth. He could feel more building, pooling in the back of his throat like thick mucus.

"They are skittish and afraid of this one. It is better to keep distance."

Predictably, Kagome gentled- but surprised him by easing closer. She seized his hand, tugging- and he was helpless to do anything but follow. Heat touched his cheeks.

Kagome walked backwards, maintaining eye contact like the femme fatale she wasn't, shifting her soft touch to grasp the back of his hand, lacing lithe fingers through his. She then forced the Daiyoukai's palm to rest against a warm neck. The horse shifted slightly, tail flicking, yet it did not startle. With Kagome's prompting, Sesshoumaru glided the flat of his calloused palm down the length of its powerful neck, the thin layer of brown fur tickling his skin.

"Maji isn't like other horses, he's calm around demons. He has to be if Kaede is gonna ride him to fight Youkai," her voice glided through his ear canals like melted honey. Kagome hummed, "though she said because of her age that he might be mine soon. Weird, huh? It's like she's prepping me to be the village miko more and more."

"It is not 'weird,' it is expected," he uttered, thrilled at the prolonged touch. How foolish. The heat of her palm felt exquisite, hand clasped intimately around his. "You will make an acceptable village miko."

Blue eyes flitted up to him, smiling. She gave his hand a squeeze. "Thanks, but… sometimes I wonder if-"

"Ah, so this is where you escaped to."

Sesshoumaru stiffened. Kagome ripped her fingers away- tearing open a gaping hole inside him. He quickly stifled a cough, but it was larger this time, throat clogged. His shoulders shook, sweat dotting his brow.

Kagome was busy being scooped up by Shinto, a large male. He dressed well, for a human, a jagged scar running over one eye. A momento from his mercenary days, he'd called it, though he was now reformed.

Kagome laughed and swatted his shoulder, demanding to be put down. Jaken piped up, yelling about indecency. All the while, Sesshoumaru fought not to let anything show. To not let the agony out. The jealousy. The consuming desire to act upon instinct and take what he ached for.

He couldn't stand it. Couldn't stand seeing the male's burly, meaty hands drag over her hips to settle at the base of her spine. Like they belonged there. Sesshoumaru coughed again, drawing away.

Kagome caught the action, turning to him. "Sesshoumaru?"

He hated the concern swimming in her gaze. It would be so much easier to despise her.

"I have lingered too long," he said quietly, trying to mask the rawness of his voice. "This one should be going."

Kagome nodded slowly, "do you want some honey to soothe your throat? It sounds a little-"

"No," he quietly snapped, starting to walk away. Confusion immediately curdled in her scent, and he regretted the lapse in control. Now she'd worry.

Foolishness.

"Lord Sesshoumaru!" Jaken hurriedly ran after him, following his Lord from the village. "Bah, those humans get more presumptuous every day. I don't blame you for leaving in such a hurry," he muttered, keeping up his tangent long after they'd met the treeline of Inuyasha's forest.

Sesshoumaru unexpectedly stopped, slamming claws into tree bark and causing it to splinter.

Jaken yelped, jumping and dropping his staff. "Mi-mi Lord?" bulbous eyes widened upon seeing him stoop over slightly, silver hair obscuring ashen features.

Sesshoumaru's shoulders shook, dry heaving sounds reaching Jaken's hearing. The retainer gasped, watching him cough, gasp and choke. Thick trails of dewy saliva pooled onto the ground. Rasping noises shuddered out from clenched teeth. Trembling claws reached inside his mouth, feeling something at the back of his throat. Grasping it, Sesshoumaru fought not to gag, coughing while removing the thing and looking at it with stinging eyes.

A Forget-me-not flower sat innocently between forefinger and thumb.

Both demons stared. Phlegm soaked petals rested at Sesshoumaru's feet. Jaken stood gravely silent for a while.

"Mi Lord…" he said thinly. "You have fallen prey to something very old…"

"You will not breathe a word about it to anyone," Sesshoumaru coughed, eyes stinging. He straightened and wiped his mouth, collecting himself. He threw the flower aside.

"But-"

"No one, Jaken," Sesshoumaru hissed, molten golden eyes burning. "Or I'll kill you."

Jaken yelped and quickly bowed several times, promising wholeheartedly not to interfere.

"I-I understand! However, if it's not too much trouble, perhaps you could hear out a suggestion?"

Sesshoumaru sneered and started walking again, his breathing slightly hoarse and rasping now, no longer quiet. His lips pressed together, trying to silence himself. It proved painful, and he quickly breathed through his mouth again.

Jaken tentatively continued; "your affliction is something ancient. I know little about it, but I do remember that it's possible to have it removed before it claims your life."

Sesshoumaru stopped, hands curling into fists. Claws scraped palms.

"That will not do, either," came his soft response.

"W-why ever not, milord?! This matter is potentially deadly to demons!"

Sesshoumaru stared ahead unseeingly. He knew of the affliction too. Had recognised what it was immediately. If he removed the flowering bud from within his chest, wiped away all evidence from her from his body, then he'd lose the very thing that had made him catch the illness in the first place.

His feelings for Kagome Higurashi.

"My reasons are my own," Sesshoumaru coughed behind his hand. "I will not die. Do not fuss over trivial matters, Jaken."

His retainer gaped, hurrying after him. Fierce worry painted his features. The infamous and deadly Hanahaki Curse could fell even the strongest of Daiyoukai.

---

It interfered with eating.

Sesshoumaru thankfully did not need to eat too often, but hunger inevitably gnawed its way into his gut. Transformed, he raced through the forest on all fours in a smaller version of his true form. Low-hanging branches lashed at his face. Forget-me-not flowers lodged in his throat conglomerated into a thick mass. They were practically a ball stuck at the back of his mouth. Sesshoumaru managed to ignore it just enough to track the scent of a deer- only to lose it and find a green pheasant within range.

Barely a snack, but it would do.

With a gurgling snarl, Sesshoumaru sprang at some bushes. Squawking with distress, the bird took flight- only to be caught in his jaws. Bringing sharp teeth down elicited a satisfying crunch. The taste of iron filled his parched mouth. Tilting his head back, Sesshoumaru had every intention of swallowing it whole. He'd done so before. The bird was small enough compared to his form. However, this quickly became impossible.

Red eyes widened. The flowers acted as a barrier, preventing food from travelling down his throat.

Spitting out the bird, Sesshoumaru tore into it. He tried again and again, breaking the kill into smaller pieces. He even tried drinking from the river to wash down the flowers. Nothing worked. No food could pass into his stomach.

With a low crooning noise that hissed out between his teeth, Sesshoumaru padded away from his uneaten kill with an agitated flick of his tail.

---

It affected his sleep next.

At his Stronghold in the Western lands, Sesshoumaru set aside his paperwork and retired to bed. Curling into a nest of furs, he stretched out long legs, sprawling on one side.

Only to feel a dull ache thrum from his ribs.

Wincing and setting a hand over the spot, Sesshoumaru frowned. He was unfamiliar with the sensation, however, Kagome had once whined and complained about 'pulling a muscle.' Perhaps the tight, clamping sensation echoed that pain. Deciding to roll over onto his opposite side- he abruptly burst into a coughing fit. The angle had upset his breathing, lungs protesting.

This vicious cycle continued long into the night. He tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable. Even laying still made him feel tense and pained. In the end, Sesshoumaru rose from his futon and began running.

Too tired to think, he transformed, relying on instinct to guide him. He whined softly; the ache spreading. He wheezed a little, breathing constrained despite being physically fit.

The inuyoukai sprinted to the outskirts of Kaede's village. Scenting the air, he caught a welcome fragrance on the breeze.

Mate.

Clearing the hillside with a single bound, Sesshoumaru shrank his form even further to that of a regular dog. Sniffing around the outside of a hut, fluffy ears perked. She was not home.

Where?

Following the invisible trail in the air, he padded around the village, passing by unseen by some villagers. Their lack of vigilance disgusted him. What lax security. Stopping at the Monk and Slayer's hut, he listened, hearing a soft humming from within. The sharp tang of blood, vomit, faeces and afterbirth caught his frayed attention.

The Slayer had been pregnant. From the sounds and smells of things, she had given birth and now slept while Kagome remained awake. He could pick up the faint fussing from a young babe.

Sesshoumaru stayed still, listening to the miko gently hum. Slowly, his body weakened, and the inuyoukai lay down outside the hut, resting a weary head atop large paws.

Something stirred from within, the rustle of covers. "Mn... are you alright? Want me to take over?"

"No, I'm fine," Kagome answered in a hushed tone. "He seems completely zonked out, little cutie-pie."

The Slayer paused, "your head. You said it was aching again earlier."

"Heh, Sango! You've just had another baby! Focus on yourself!" her lovely voice tinged with exasperation. "Really, everything is okay. It just hurts from time to time ever since that night with the boar youkai attack. It's no big deal."

"Prolonged headaches and amnesia does not fall under 'no big deal,' Kagome."

Laughing this off breezily, he could hear the shrug in her tone. "I just blank on a few things from the month prior to the attack. I'm sure it wasn't anything important."

Tired lids slid shut, and Sesshoumaru gained some sense of rest while imagining the woman within cradling a newborn pup instead of a gurgling infant. The two women talked some more, lulling him into a false sense of comfort even as his throat thrummed with continuous pain.

---

Breathing was a struggle.

Every inhale became a wheezing, quivering thing. Like crumpled paper that had been smoothed out and squashed too many times. Mucus constantly filled his mouth, senses clogged. His breathing ranged from laboured to a noisy, rasping thing.

He could no longer afford to visit the village. Sesshoumaru took to monitoring Rin from afar whenever he felt the need to check up on her. Needless to say, he avoided Kagome at all costs. The miko was an infamous busy body who would become a nightmare to deal with if she knew of his suffering.

Yes, that was the only reason.

However, on a random day he briefly let his guard down, the unthinkable happened.

Inuyasha found out.

If Sesshoumaru had comprised a list of all the beings he did NOT want to know about his affliction, Inuyasha would be right up there, along with his meddling mother.

Inuyasha stared, watching him with a complicated, horrified look on his gruff features. Shifting, Sesshoumaru stood from where he'd been knelt by a river.

Forget-me-nots floated downstream.

"... What the hell is wrong with you?" were the first words Inuyasha blurted out.

Sesshoumaru wiped his mouth, sneering. "I need not explain myself to you, whelp."

"Keh, if anything warrants a damn explanation, it's barfing up flowers."

He didn't need to hear anymore, turning with the intent to leave. No doubt the fool would talk nonsense, and he had no patience for such things with his current headache. His temples were pounding, throat parched.

"Why don't you just fucking tell her, you coward?"

That certainly caught his attention. Sesshoumaru halted. "What?" he croaked.

"Ya think I'm that ignorant, huh?" Inuyasha rolled his eyes, shoving both hands inside his sleeves. "I know."

"Know what, exactly," silken tones rasped. "You are but an ignorant pup. You were not raised within youkai circles, and so could not possibly understand."

"And whose fault is that?" shaking his head, Inuyasha huffed. "I dunno what crap you're yappin' on about, anyway. I'm talkin' about your secret relationship with Kagome that you had a couple of months ago."

Stiffening, Sesshoumaru felt his bones lock and throat inflame. He swallowed, wincing slightly. He flashed his teeth, "whatever you think you know, it is incorrect. A baseless assumption."

"Bullshit!"

Continuing to walk with every intention of escaping the pending conversation, he stopped dead the second Inuyasha opened his mouth; "I could smell you on her! But that all changed the second she hit her head. Did she forget you or something? You were happy to just abandon her after she stopped being useful for a good time?"

A deafening snarl upset his aching throat, ripping something inside. Blurring through the air impossibly fast, Sesshoumaru snatched up his sibling's throat and slammed him into a tree, causing the trunk to shudder.

"Silence," a blood-curdling rasp hissed out from clenched teeth like boiling steam. Crimson eyes glowed, claws itching to bury into the nuisance's windpipe.

Even while choking, Inuyasha managed to bark out a laugh, grasping a striped wrist. "You really do like her, huh? Never thought I'd see the day, bastard." White ears pulled back flat against his skull. "What's the deal? Just open your mouth and tell Kagome. Then I don't have to smell your pining ass all over the forest while you stalk her."

Burning embers were snuffed out. Sesshoumaru coughed, lifting a hand to his mouth. His shoulder thrummed, aching. "I cannot do that."

"Why not?"

"She does not remember," releasing him, the Daiyoukai stepped back. "The miko fell quite quickly for the male who rescued her that night. The fault lies with me that she sustained injury. If she is content with another, I cannot force her gaze to me."

It wasn't as though he hadn't tried. However, Kagome seemed happy with their relationship as friends. Guilt, stung pride and other such ugly emotions were all tied up with the incident.

Inuyasha blinked with disbelief, sizing him up. "When the fuck did you get so noble?" Sesshoumaru sneered, glancing away as his brother continued. "And anyway, what does that have to do with you coughing up flowers?"

Since he'd revealed more than intended as it was, Sesshoumaru felt no inclination to divulge extra information. He turned and this time; resolved not to stop walking. "Drop the subject, whelp."

"Maybe I'll tell Kagome about it."

Sesshoumaru did not falter, knowing the fool's game by now. "Do as you please," he dismissed in a wheezing, thin voice, stepping under the cool shade of weeping willow trees and leaving him behind.

---

He did not intend to revisit their old rendezvous point. Sesshoumaru had wanted to put it behind him, to let everything that had happened within the cave fade into obscurity.

The second he stepped foot within the mossy mouth of its opening, however, Kagome's lingering scent fanned over a striped cheek like a breathy exhale.

Long white lashes slid half shut. Hooded golden eyes became hazed. The memory of her salty, sweet taste wrapping around his tongue flooded his senses. Claws twitched, recalling the phantom sensation of full breasts falling into his palms as her back arched exquisitely. Her eyes had darkened into a lush, deep blue.

She'd been memorable, to say the least.

Walking further in, so that he stood fully submerged in their love-nest, Sesshoumaru basked in the illicit scents and breathy whispers he could remember caressing his hearing. It hadn't just been about sex. It never was with her.

Kagome had held his demonic hand without fear and stroked his cheek, murmuring ardently or giggling quietly. She told him things he hadn't thought he'd wanted to know before.

'You're nothing like your father' she'd said easily but with a conviction that made the ageless demon believe her. The notion should've been insulting. His sire had been unbeatable in strength, so of course he should wish to be like him.

Yet Sesshoumaru had never appreciated such compliments. He wished to be unique, bold, powerful, walking an entirely different path. Her words had been strangely welcome.

"And yet here I stand, Father," Sesshoumaru uttered to himself. In love with a mortal. Dying, because of a human woman of all things.

Just like you.

"Sesshoumaru?"

Golden eyes snapped wide open. A wave of elation, dread, guilt and longing washed over him. Every fibre of his being flared to life, muscles stiffening, heart racing. His lungs constricted.

Sesshoumaru swallowed a rasping breath, shifting to face the priestess.

Kagome crept closer, glancing around the cave curiously. "Was just in the forest to collect some things. I thought I sensed you close by. Looks like I was right. What are you doing in here?"

"Nothing," he said softly. His voice sounded fragile these days.

He could tell she was confused, radiating hurt. He hadn't visited in so long. No doubt she'd wondered why. The flowers buried within his windpipe felt heavier in her presence. He cleared his throat.

"Oh," Kagome scuffed a sandal over the dirt-covered floor. "Well... I'm glad I caught you-" she offered a tentative smile. "I've missed talking with you."

Sesshoumaru's insides screamed at him. The marks on his shoulder felt like blistering iron tongues being thrust into his flesh they wailed so loud.

Mate.

"I dunno what's kept you away," Kagome continued talking, making her way out of the cave. He followed, "but you haven't missed much. Rin is progressing nicely with her riding though. I'm not too shabby with that thin sword you gave me either, though Shinto says I need more practice."

That very sent icy needles piercing his skin. Stepping foot outside, Sesshoumaru couldn't stop the abrupt bite in his tone; "why are you here, miko?"

Kagome blinked and glanced at him over one shoulder. She then threaded her fingers behind her back, attention sliding away, voice unreadable.

"Shinto proposed to me."

Sesshoumaru stopped. A profound sense of loss rendered him breathless. He anticipated a coughing fit. Wheezing. Pain. But there was nothing, just him and Kagome standing alone in the silent woods. But she'd be beyond his reach for good soon.

He'd tried. He'd tried hard to forget, as she had. To push all the feelings and words right down from his throat into his chest. Maybe that was how the curse had started.

But he'd have kept the curse for good if it meant lingering in the 'almost' fantasy of them.

Now that illusion would shatter.

The very idea of her belonging to another felt like a wound somewhere inside him that he couldn't locate. The sensation of teeth on his shoulder thrummed, and he coughed, snuffing out the sound behind his hand.

"I didn't really know what to say," Kagome was muttering. "A part of me feels like it's too soon. I wanted to talk to you about it-"

"This one is needed elsewhere," he said in a clipped tone, turning on his heel.

He couldn't be her confidant anymore. Not about this.

"What?"

He began walking, trying to put distance between them. He should've known it wouldn't work as Kagome quickly caught up and planted herself firmly in his way, halting the demon.

"Okay, what is going on with you?" she demanded. "Is it the cough? Are you in so much pain that you can't talk to me?"

Sesshoumaru flashed his teeth in a faint sneer, throat protesting at the extended use of his vocal cords. "is it so unthinkable that for once, I may not have time for you, miko?"

"Yes," Kagome planted both hands on her hips. "Because this isn't an isolated thing. I've hardly seen you all month! And besides that, you're my friend, Sesshoumaru. Friends tell each other things. Remember how you talked about the court and how obnoxious General Kito was to deal with? Things like that. I need to talk to you about this- and clearly, you need to talk to someone about whatever's going on with you. I'm worried about you!"

His heart clenched, and Sesshoumaru bit back a hiss at the stab of pain it caused. Thin breathing rasped and rattled. He raised a hand, urging her aside via a gentle grasp on her shoulder to continue walking.

Kagome's grip was not so gentle as she latched onto his arm.

Frustration abruptly burst in his chest and Sesshoumaru snarled, whirling with the intent of spilling everything to her. Ruin their friendship. Burn everything they'd built and admit his failure to protect her-

-only to cough up a mouthful of blood onto her collarbone.

Kagome yelped in surprise, eyes wide. Touching the wet substance dazedly, horror paled her complexion. She looked up at him with palpable fear.

"S-Sesshoumaru?"

Humiliation stung white-hot and burning into his body. The visceral, blinding sensation of being exposed- of being seen- felt like too much. Too raw. As a demon unused to such things, his first instinct was to remove himself from the situation.

Sesshoumaru blurred away from her outstretched hands, putting the length of the clearing between them.

Kagome called his name again with alarm, asking him to wait, but he would not heed her call.

Taking to the skies, he flew fast and erratically, a wobbly figure. Coughing hard and feeling blood clog up his windpipe like mud, Sesshoumaru had no choice but to land not long after.

Within an overcast clearing upriver from Kagome, he steadied himself against a gnarled tree.

"Hah- hah-" he wheezed, doubling over and squeezing stinging eyes shut.

Something suddenly constricted tight around his lungs, around his very ribcage. Bones protested and ached. He gasped for breath, blood leaking from his open mouth to pool on the floor. Forget-me-nots mingled with it, petals stained red.

Jolting and snapping upright, Sesshoumaru arched his back, throwing back his head. A cry escaped him unlike any other. Loud, agonised and roaring in its ferocity tinged with pain.

Stems shot out from within his ribcage, tearing his chest asunder.

---

Her friends made noises of alarm at the sight of Kagome's bloodied clothes, but the miko ignored Sango and Miroku's questions, bypassing them in favour of finding and grabbing Jaken by the scruff of his robes.

"You're going to tell me in 10 words or less what the hell is going on with your lord," she demanded.

Jaken yelped and squinted, hanging from her hold. "Haven't the faintest idea of what you could be alluding to!" he sniffed.

Kagome snarled and bared her teeth, lifting him closer with a menacing expression and gesturing to the red substance marring her priestess robes. "This is HIS blood. He looked awful. Like- like he was dying, Jaken," her voice broke. "Please. I need to know what's happening. He won't tell me what's wrong and I'm scared."

Yellow eyes rounded wider, swallowing the imp's face. He appeared conflicted.

"Kagome!"

Releasing Jaken, Kagome shifted her attention to Inuyasha, who leapt towards her with alarm pinching his gruff features.

Dread dropped low in her stomach. That was never a good sign.

Distant snapping noises like wood being felled reached her ears. From behind the approaching Hanyou within the forest, large vines could be seen shifting and slithering over a portion of the trees.

"What is it?" Miroku gaped. "I sense a demonic aura, but it's distorted."

Kagome shuddered, feeling strange. She recognised that energy. Identified it as easy as breathing.

"Maybe a forest spirit has been disturbed?" Sango guessed, clutching her son a little more protectively.

"It ain't that," Inuyasha dropped from his jump, landing before them. He panted, white hair windswept. Of all people, his gaze landed upon the miko first. "It's Sesshoumaru."

----

Their way became blocked by a thick mass of vines crisscrossing through the forest. It created a wall, preventing any from entering.

"Lord Sesshoumaru must be further in," Miroku observed, leaning to inspect the leaves. "Beyond this 'barrier' I suppose you could call it."

"I wonder what could have happened," Kagome murmured, brows pulling together. "Sesshoumaru doesn't even have nature powers."

"Why on earth did you bring ME along for this?" a high pitched, nasally voice reached their ears. Sango and Inuyasha readily ignored it, while Kagome frowned down at the imp she held by the scruff of his robes.

"Because you're clearly hiding something, and until you come clean, I'm not letting you out of my sight."

His mouth thinned into a stubborn line, glancing away.

Kagome turned her attention back to the vines. Worry took root in her stomach. The memory of the Daiyoukai spitting up blood remained fresh in her mind, evidence of it staining her clothing and plastering it against her skin.

Handing Miroku their son, Sango went first. She swung Hiraikotsu with a seemingly effortless toss- the bone boomerang spiralling, cleaving trees in half but bouncing straight off the vine wall. It didn't so much as leave a dent.

Not wasting another moment, Inuyasha unsheathed Tetsusaiga. Everyone immediately gave him a wide berth, watching as he shook the sword out into a monstrous blade. He swung it back over one shoulder, feet planted far apart- delivering a swift blow downwards with a loud cry.

A burst of power shot out, heading straight for the vines. They made contact, and for a moment Kagome thought the consuming golden light might break through, only for it to fizzle out. The insurmountable wall remained intact.

Inuyasha tried again and again, using different techniques. None of them worked.

Nocking an arrow in her bow, Kagome took aim. Pale pink reiki split forth, coating the arrow while glowing ever more blinding until she set it free.

She held out hope as it shot through the vines, managing to burst through the dense foliage- which repaired itself almost immediately, covering up the hole.

"Nothing appears to be working," Miroku muttered, turning his friends. "Perhaps we should seek advice elsewhere first before trying to continue."

Her friend's voices faded into background noise as Kagome approached the vines. Frowning slightly, she stretched out her senses, using her aura to touch and brush against the barrier. It felt like him.

If that were the case, the wall was of Sesshoumaru's own making, whether he'd consciously chosen to hide away or not. Perhaps they were going about things the wrong way.

Thinking back to Maji and how carefully they'd run their linked hands down his neck, she raised a palm. Gradually easing closer, Kagome set it down gently onto the vines, stroking downwards.

Hearing outcries of alarm as the greenery parted, only for swirling stems to curl about her shoulders- Kagome quickly grabbed Jaken.

"It's okay, guys. Just find a way to follow me in later," she met their startled gazes. "I feel like I need to reach him quickly."

"Kagome, wait!"

Ignoring their protests, Kagome lept into the fray. She welcomed the green vines that wrapped around her, enclosing the miko and wailing kappa securely behind its wall.

---

Mercifully the winding tendrils of vines that moved as though infused with a will of their own allowed her freedom of movement. Kagome climbed through their moving, twisting stems, occasionally losing her footing and having to grasp hold of some.

"Again, I ask; WHY ARE YOU BRINGING ME ALONG WITH YOU?!" Jaken shrieked, clinging to her back and looking around fretfully.

"You know the answer to that. Tell me what you know about Sesshoumaru's situation and I'll let you go," Kagome hummed, shielding her eyes and looking up at sprawling branches above where sunlight streamed through. Maybe she could punt him over the treetops.

"I have sworn not to break my vow of silence on the matter!"

Grinding her teeth, Kagome stopped and reached over her shoulder, tearing him from her back to frown at him. "If your silence ends up hurting him, is it even worth it? Which means more to you; Sesshoumaru's trust or his life?"

Jaken clamped up, thinking about this for a moment. His eyes abruptly filled with tears, "fine! But you had best save me from his wrath once this is over."

Kagome grinned and patted him on the head, continuing to walk. "I promise."

He huffed, "Lord Sesshoumaru is suffering from a curse."

Blue eyes widened, and Kagome set Jaken over her shoulder like she would Shippo. He did not appreciate the gesture as the kit would while she minded swirling vines aside from their path and ducked through. "What kind of curse?"

"How much do you know about youkai mates, foolish mortal?"

At that, she tilted her head, noticing a blue flowering bud among the vines and gently touching it in passing. "Very little. I know they're like married couples. They, uh... make love and bite each other instead of having a wedding ceremony and stuff. That about sum it up?"

"Insolent girl!" Jaken griped, noticing the bud she touched opening up into a flower behind them. "It is far more than that! Their energies synchronise, aura's linking. However, it's quite imperative they both bite one another."

"Or else the mating is incomplete? What's so bad about that?"

"The partner that was bitten will consider them mated and suffer a one-sided attachment. This isn't so terrible if they have the bite mark healed and lose their troublesome feelings towards their mate," he continued with a self-important air. Kagome didn't mind it if it meant getting answers. "But... if they choose to linger in longing and are prevented from completing the mating, then their energies become distorted! Their youki takes on a life of its own as flowers."

"That's what these vines are," Kagome mused. She shifted, a strange, unsettled feeling churning in her gut. "You're implying someone bit Sesshoumaru? He'd never allow someone to do that if he didn't want it- let alone not reciprocate. Besides, if he could remove it, he'd have surely done so."

"I agree this situation is unprecedented! Unthinkable! Besides that, ANY partner resisting Lord Sesshoumaru's advances is unworthy of being his mate! AH-!"

Kagome jolted, feeling a weight lift from her back. Glancing over her shoulder, she gaped and strained to reach Jaken. Vines had wrapped tight around his mid-section, lifting him away.

"Hang on!" she shimmied her bow off her arm, quickly taking aim. Releasing the arrow, she watched as it hit the mark, sailing through a vine and breaking it in two. Jaken yelped, falling, only to be caught by another vine that continued dragging him back the way they'd come.

"J-just leave me!" he wailed. "Go save Lord Sesshoumaru!"

Kagome blinked, strangely touched. Nodding with conviction, she turned and hurriedly continued to make her way through the dense foliage.

---

Her breath caught the second she caught sight of the flowers.

Forget-me-nots littered the area, becoming more frequent the further in she ventured. Soon she practically waded through a sea of blue petals. They hugged trees, peppering logs, the ground beneath her feet, even climbing above to hang from branches. The vast mass of familiar flowers eventually opened out into a huge clearing packed full of them.

And there, at the centre of it all, Kagome finally saw him.

Vines had burst his chest open, putting quivering lungs on full display. To her horror, she witnessed them expanding and deflating with each struggling, wheezing breath. His ribcage had been repurposed for a vase of flowers. Vibrant blue forget-me-nots poked out between his ribs, green stems tightly wrapped around his bones, constricting.

Sesshoumaru's body lay tilted back, face turned upwards to the sky. Glassy eyes were vacant, blood caking his chin. His armour and hankimono lay shattered and torn on the ground. Around him, the stems that had spilt forth from his gut propped up his lifeless form, clearly part of the mass of greenery that had hindered her approach. Kagome covered her mouth, hand shaking. Tears pricked her eyes. Blue veins visibly spread over his flesh, causing her to wonder if the stems had buried beneath his very skin.

This was not Sesshoumaru. It couldn't be.

Choking on nothing, Kagome hurried closer with a thin noise. Reaching his motionless form, her hands hovered uselessly over his decimated chest. She didn't know where to start. How could she even help him?

"Who did this to you?" her voice wobbled. Stinging eyes misted over, running over his body. He looked like a corpse that had been picked clean by crows. His moving lungs moving were the only indication he was even alive.

"Sesshoumaru- I don't know if you can hear me," Kagome tried, reaching out and touching his cheek. It shocked her skin, icy to the touch. "But please- let go of the person who caused this," she said, locating what she assumed was the mating mark upon his shoulder. "No one is worth dying over. You could start over with your mate. Ask them out- anything!" she shuddered, looking at the flowers poking out from his ribs.

"Just don't die! This isn't like you!" Kagome snapped, tears rolling hotly down her cheeks to slide free from her chin. "Fight this! Keep living. T-there's still so much I want to talk to you about."

The tears landed upon pretty blue petals.

Leaning against him slightly, Kagome sobbed. She wondered if she could just reach out and rip the awful things free from inside his chest.

Why Forget-me-nots, anyway? Why not another flower-

The mating mark halted her hand, fingers brushing the stems. It didn't look like an animal bite, nor did it belong to a demon.

Kagome's eyes slowly widened. She had a distinct tooth at the back of her mouth.

The tooth marks looked like a perfect mould of her teeth.

"Was it...me?" she breathed, glancing up at Sesshoumaru's features dazedly. "Those blank spots in my memory. Was I... with you?"

The puzzle pieces slotted into place perfectly. Kagome stared, feeling like a fool for having not noticed. She'd just thought, assumed- he would never look at her like that.

But if the miko cast her memory back and pictured Sesshoumaru's lovely features, his honeyed gaze resting upon her face, half-lidded, lips quirked, face soft and drinking her in- maybe he had been looking at her 'like that' the whole time.

Kagome shook her head, feeling frantic. She latched onto his shoulders.

"I-I'm so sorry. I'm sorry! I never meant for this to happen. Why didn't you bite me? Why didn't you TELL me, you stupid demon!" she snapped, cheeks reddening as a fresh wave of tears stung her eyes. "All that time we spent together goofing off and talking- and you were suffering in silence? You're so stupid, Sesshoumaru!"

His anguished face did not stir. Kagome mindlessly wiped away the dried blood from his chin with shaky fingers.

"There's no taking this back now," she said quietly, glancing at the bite mark. "So... I guess there's only one thing for it."

It sounded terrible, but Shinto was far from her mind as she lay a hand over her mating mark and began concentrating. When resolving to save someone, Kagome became bullheaded. Sesshoumaru was all she could see as her aura rose out from her body, seeping into his bloodstream via the bite marks.

"You need to wake up," she mumbled, using her free hand to adjust the parting of her white kosode. Sliding it off one shoulder to bare her flesh, Kagome remained heedless of the vines growing and curling around them. They seeped into her ebony hair, twining into the long locks like a lover's hands.

Kagome straddled the Daiyoukai, shuddering a little at being so close to his bare bones. She couldn't have sex with him, obviously, but she suspected it wasn't truly needed to complete the bond. Feeding her energy into his body, she bit her bottom lip. Sweat beaded on her brow.

She began to mumble and pray under her breath.

When her spiritual energy had spread through most his system, Kagome grit her teeth and hoped he'd forgive her. Laying one hand atop his rib-cage directly over his heart, she raised her voice.

"Wake up!"

A pulse of reiki shot out through her palm.

Sesshoumaru jerked beneath her. A ghastly, chocking noise escaped him. His head lolled to the side as he looked at her unseeingly, a trickle of blood welling from the corner of his pale mouth. Kagome quickly wrapped an arm around him, guiding his head to her shoulder.

"Bite down, Sesshoumaru," Kagome whispered fiercely into his ear.

Sharp canines brushed her skin, causing a shiver. Wet flecks of blood accompanied it as he coughed. Whimpering with desperation, the miko curled trembling fingers into silver hair. She pressed a kiss against his cheek.

"Please- I want this." She'd do anything to save him. Besides that, a small, buried part of her felt strangely at peace with the action and its meaning. "Bite down!"

A blood-curdling snarl vibrated out from his open chest. Fangs sank deep into her shoulder. At once, dark, dominating youki burst through her system like a shot of adrenaline. Kagome gasped, back arching. It turned her heart into a burning star. Sesshoumaru's presence filled her until she practically burst at the seams. She distantly understood why youkai had sex before biting each other, reeling from it. The orgasm probably softened the intensity. Completion was something the mind could fathom, a release, the pooling of cum inside her.

This felt overwhelming. He was everywhere. His energy burned and licked, igniting and soothing her body like burning whisky.

Kagome felt the pinpricks of fresh tears in her eyes, overcome with a hurricane of emotions she couldn't quite name. She could feel his weakness. His exhaustion. The part of him tethered to her became a lifeline between them, feeding him the energy he'd lost.

Sesshoumaru's mouth peeled back from her flesh. He panted, sinking back. Kagome caught him about the shoulders, cradling him close.

A wave of tiredness sent her sinking down against him, lashes falling shut as dizziness spun her vision.

The last thing she saw before surrendering to the lure of unconsciousness was a canopy of Forget-me-nots surrounding their weary bodies.

----

Drowsy lids slowly cracked open- wincing at the setting sun's harsh orange light peeking out from between the trees. Golden eyes averted and Sesshoumaru stirred with a dusty rumble.

Something heavy lay over his bare chest. He lifted his head.

Kagome rested against his shoulder, dark hair spilling everywhere. Sesshoumaru stared, feeling he must be dreaming. They were laying within a clearing together, which looked clear, quiet and picturesque.

Squinting, he sat up, adjusting the woman against him. Kagome sank against his side, revealing a gaping hole in his flesh, exposing his rib-cage.

Ah, that's right.

The flowers. The vines spilling forth from his chest as blood asphyxiated him, making breathing impossible.

And Kagome...

The miko had come for him. Saved him.

Sesshoumaru ghosted stiff fingers over his mouth, dragging clawed nails down to the fresh bite mark branding his shoulder. He then shifted Kagome, running an aristocratic nose to similar marks adorning her shoulder- a tongue sliding out to drag over bloodied flesh. She tasted wonderful.

Kagome groaned and wrapped her arms around him tighter, burying her face in the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

Closing his eyes, Sesshoumaru held her close and revelled in the sensation. However, he soon picked up on the far off shimmer of his barrier enclosing them within their mini safe space. He could sense Inuyasha waiting outside, along with Jaken.

Deciding to lower it, Sesshoumaru rested his lips against the crown of Kagome's head before drawing himself up to stand unsteadily, lifting her into his arms.

When Inuyasha burst into the clearing, leaves scattering and clinging to his thick white hair, he brandished Tetsusaiga, only to lower it with a raised brow.

Sesshoumaru stood clad in his hakama pants, arching a regal brow in return. He approached the hanyou and passed Kagome over wordlessly, ignoring his noise of surprise at the sight of his ribcage.

"It is healing," the demon dismissed.

"Uh, alright," Inuyasha grunted, supporting Kagome. "Should I even ask what the hell happened?"

Sesshoumaru ignored him in favour of looking at the miko. His shoulder ached, and when he drew back his heel with the intention to leave- a fresh wave of discomfort elicited a wince.

Kagome stirred, blue eyes blinking open. She then drew a hand out towards him, "where are you going?"

"This one is..." he trailed off. "I must..."

"No, you don't," she murmured. Patting Inuyasha's shoulder to prompt him to set her down, Kagome flashed her friend a smile. "Thanks for coming for me, but I need to stay with this impossible guy to make sure he heals alright."

Inuyasha eyed the bite mark on her shoulder, nostrils flaring. "You sure?"

Kagome nodded firmly.

"What do ya want me to tell Shinto if he asks where ya are?"

Guilt passed over her face, and blue eyes flicked away, before finding him again. "Just say I'm visiting another village. I need to tell him the truth myself."

Relenting, Inuyasha stepped away, shooting Sesshoumaru a warning look before reluctantly leaving them be again, feeling like the wind had been thoroughly knocked out of his sails.

The Daiyoukai watched her, stunned.

"It's crazy you're even up and walking around in your condition," Kagome rubbed at her forehead, reaching out and seizing frozen fingers. "Come on, let's find a cave to take shelter in for the night."

----

The demon lord stopped and slid unrelenting attention down to her once they reached the mouth of a cave. "What made you choose this place?"

"I dunno, it wasn't far away and it felt familiar," Kagome hummed, meeting his gaze. "Have we... used it before? In the past?"

Golden eyes cracked wider. "You remember?" he asked in a quiet, brittle tone.

She shook her head, "not at all. I just figured it out. Would've been nice if you'd told me," releasing his hand, she wandered inside, finding a bed of furs awaiting them further in, cracks of sunlight streaming in through holes in the rock ceiling. Her cheeks reddened a little, imagination running wild.

"You really scared me back there," she murmured, back turned to him. "I thought you were going to die."

"That is why you completed the mating," Sesshoumaru uttered. To save him, and for no other reason.

A part of him had hoped she'd remembered, but another had immediately recognised the sacrifice she'd made. Kagome was a selfless individual in the face of danger. If Inuyasha were dying, or any of her other friends, he wondered if she'd mate them if it meant saving their lives.

With a benevolence he did not truly feel, Sesshoumaru forced himself to prioritise her comfort. "If this is not something you wish for- there are ways of severing the bond."

"Stop," she grit out, whirling to face him. Flinty blue eyes took his breath away. "Stop lying all the time. I remember valuing your company and opinion because you were always so blunt with me. You never held back your opinions."

"I am not lying, there is a way to sever it."

"But that's not what you want! Damn it- you nearly died because you couldn't open your mouth! Just be honest for once and tell me how you're feeling, Sesshoumaru. What do YOU want?"

Energy lashed at the air, kicking up a breeze that caused dark hair to fly back. Hands closed over the back of her neck, cradling her skull. Lips were shoved against hers, smothering startled breath.

"You," Sesshoumaru breathed in a brief parting, kissing her fiercely again. His mouth slanted ardently over hers, the hint of a fang brushing her lips. "Is it not obvious I cannot abide anything but having you? Foolish woman, it is for your sake I held back. Once you submit, there is no escaping me."

Kagome gaped, unable to keep up with the sheer amount of heated kisses. Her hands settled over his arms, heat igniting her cheeks. She'd never received a kiss like it before and tentatively returned it. A small gasp and accompanying noise from him only confirmed to her how much he wanted it. She could feel the tension in his frame. He was holding back even now.

When he pulled away, she panted, thumb dragging over magenta cheek stripes. "Didn't that feel so much better than burying everything?" she teased weakly. "Even if I'd rejected you, surely that would've been better than regret- than nearly dying."

Sesshoumaru's gaze slid away. He then released a long sigh, clawed hands curling in her hair. "You seemed happy with the mercenary."

"Ex-mercenary," she corrected out of habit, leaning into his touch. "And I was. I like him. But..." Kagome looked at him. Really looked, and somehow it clicked that his face was the only one she wanted to wake up to in the mornings to follow. When had things gotten to that point? Had she wanted this while lazing on the riverbank with him so long ago? Things would've been so much more simple if she'd identified it sooner. If he'd said something.

How foolish they both were.

Stepping closer, she blushed and tilting her head back in order to ghost her lips over a firm jaw. "I like you more."

Power sparked her insides at the ensuing shudder he gave. "Mating entails more than 'liking' one another, miko. Can you deal with my extended company? Being mine?"

Kagome pretended to consider this. "For how long?"

His lips quirked. "Centuries. Possibly thousands of years."

"That's a long time," her eyes danced. "I guess I'm okay with that if you work on your communication skills."

He inclined his head gravely, dipping his nose into her hair and inhaling a lungful. It felt so good to have clear airways again.

"Sesshoumaru, there is something I want to ask you about; Why didn't you bite me? And what happened during that night I lost my memories?"

"I intended to, miko," he said with dark promise. Displeasure curled his lip. "You managed to bite me during climax. I do not think you understood the ramifications of it at the time. I would have reciprocated nonetheless. Unfortunately, my senses- brilliant as they are- sensed a disturbance in the forest. A herd of boar youkai were bolting towards your precious village."

He could scowl all he wanted about it, but Kagome knew of his attachment to Rin. No doubt they'd both wasted no further time in lovemaking and quickly made for the village.

"We fought them, tried to redirect them. You asked me to save a boy that had fallen during the village's impromptu evacuation. Naturally, I did so- but it meant leaving you alone."

Kagome winced. Her hand found the back of her head, remembering waking to a sizable bump and stitches. "They got me, huh?"

"One struck you down," Sesshoumaru uttered with a weary tone. "I did not know where you were, as we had become separated in the chaos. When I eventually found you... the mercenary was nursing your wounds."

"I remember," she said gently. A stab of sympathy clenched her heart. Stroking a hand down his bicep, she sighed. "That must've been awful, to lose me so soon after almost completing the mating. I didn't realise, didn't recall our relationship. I greeted you so casually and didn't get why you were lingering around in his hut."

"The fault is not yours," Sesshoumaru rested large hands possessively on her hips.

Kagome glanced at him, squinting. "Neither is it yours," she pressed her fingers to his lips when he opened his mouth. "Nope! Not yours. I wouldn't have wanted you to prioritise guarding me that night. If you had, that boy you saved might've lost his life. Besides, I can usually take care of myself. They caught me on a bad day."

The two fell into silence. Sesshoumaru closed his eyes, resting thin lips against the crown of her head while Kagome leaned carefully against him.

"I find it weird that we've had a whole conversation while you have a massive hole in your chest. At least I can't see your whole ribcage like before. Seems like the skin and muscle are repairing," she mumbled.

"It will heal quickly," he dismissed, palms gliding over her back.

Kagome made a soft noise, basking in his warmth. "It's also weird that this feels so natural to me," she lifted her head, catching his eye. "I might not remember us. Ever. So just... promise me you won't search for my past self in me. I've been through that before."

He swept her down into the furs, covering her form with his own. "Hn, we will live in the present."

Heat flushed her cheeks as she sank into the soft, comforting furs. Her heart fluttered, stomach jumping. "Thank you."

A silver curtain of hair blocked out their surroundings as Kagome pulled him closer, both mindful of his injury. She smiled, searching his gaze and slowly delivering a sweet kiss to his lips.

Sesshoumaru let out a long sigh of relief, their foreheads meeting.

"Hey, on the bright side..." Kagome gave him a cheeky grin. "I get to experience my 'first time' with you again."

Astonishment painted his features. A simmering, darkly satisfied look soon replaced it, transforming his face into something more raw and honest. Kagome accepted his anticipation, his hunger, not dissuading him from it. She endeavoured to encourage even more displays of emotion from him.

"You don't need to hold back," she murmured, accepting his searing kiss. "Tell me everything you've wanted to say to me since losing my memory. I don't mind."

Their energies twined once more, and the miko hooked her leg over his hip to anchor him against her without any seductive intentions. She merely wanted him close, and Sesshoumaru did not argue, burying closer to her the second he healed. Skin met skin, noses brushing.

In the hush that followed, Sesshoumaru took his lips to her ear and began talking.

End

#Sesskag #Sesshoumaru x Kagome #sesskag fanfiction #Inuyasha #Kagome Higurashi #Sesshoumaru

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fyodorsslut · 4 years ago

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Wrists- Bakugou Katsuki

Requested by: @toomanyotpslove

A/N: both of us can’t remember what the request was sadly, but I still have the story and find it very much worth publishing!! So, here we are! It’s not the type of thing I’d usually write, honestly, but I tried

AU: Fantsy!Au

Pairings: Dragon Lord! Bakugou x shape shifter! fem! reader

Genre: Fluff, some angst (?), comfort

play: Particular Taste by Shawn Mendes

Warnings: Not proof read, mention of physical abuse, child abuse, blood, mention of killing, reader triggered, enslaving, dehumanizing, bruises

He learnt to never touch her wrists.

So, when he accidentally pulls her back by her still-bruised wrist, her reaction doesn’t surprise him too much.

When Y/n jumps back, startled, clutching onto her wrist like she’s doing it for dear life, with her mesmerizing y/e/c eyes shot awide, Katsuki isn’t even surprised. A good 12 years of living with her have taught him this much, at least.

“I-I’m sorry,” he coughs vaguely, gulping and watching out for any sign of an abnormal reaction. Even though it’s been long, Y/n’s mentality isn’t that stable and any small trigger could be like a bomb, and the explosion is her turning into some animal and losing control over herself. “It’s alright,” Y/n sighs, rubbing a thumb against her wrist.

“You sure?” with a little tilt of his head, Katsuki takes a closer step towards scared Y/n. “You good?” “Yeah,” she smiled, nodding. It took a lot of Katsuki not to push further. Instead, he nods in concern, wary of the apology he now owes her

A few years back, or so he recalls, was when he met her.

(12 years ago)

The shore was so thick with humid, too much humid he couldn’t breathe properly. His small, bare arms prickle with the sensation of moisture, minuscule droplets too small to see dancing over his skin. The 6 years old boy stretches a little, moving his fingers in tiny circles, stirring up the cloying warmth hanging over the seashore.

Sniffing, he grimaces, the light breeze smells of fires doused by the passing rain. His small features scrunch, the kid at the castle, went out fishing or such. Instead, he was here, with his parents and some lieutenants, checking on what’s coming in and out the country.

Dazing away from his parents, he runs a hand through the flowers blooming from boxes along the pathway. The dirt around them is still wet from the passing rains and a particularly exuberant gardener. Behind him, more flowering veins run up the brick walls and rocks, these people love there flowers. The explode in various shades, thriving in this climate-

That’s when he spots it. Her

A few men bulk up, trying to casually hide it, tensing at the presence of the king and queen, clearly not have been expecting it. But, from the heir’s vantage point, he saw the girl clearly, Bruised, chained up so movement is very uncomfortable. Some leather, cage muzzle sat disturbingly on her mouth and wrapped around her head. With clearly barely any movement, the girl’s body could go through so much harms, aside from the position she’s sat in.

It’s almost terrifying, goosebumps crawling up the young boy’s body.

“Katsuki?” A gentle voice calls for the ash blonde. He slightly flinches, ripping his gaze off the girl in chains. He looks at his mother in a frightened manner.

“Is something wrong?”

Shakily, he points a weak finger towards the cage.

Holding a hand out, he manages to pull the abashed girl out. She has an air of misuse and neglect. Skinny and barely able to balance her weak form on her own.

Katsuki softly takes the muzzle off. He smiles at the face in front of him, only to be met by wide eyes and trembling lips.

“Are you okay?”

Flinch.

A small hand grips into the back of his dress shirt. A certain body’s heat closing up to him.

“She won’t do anything, not even eat. She spoke no words, and is continuously clenching onto the prince.”

Young Katsuki didn’t understand what was going on as the nurse spoke to his mom. A clan murdered? People... haunted? He didn’t mind her huddling onto him the way she did. He heard she’s a shape shifter, what is that?

“Shipped, enslaved, and sold in the black market. She’s a special, these ones cost a fortune there.”

He didn’t understand, sure. But he still knew whatever this girl has been through, it’s trauma. He knew that from how the words sounded, and from the look on his mother’s face, he’s never seen her more disgusted his whole life, not even when he eats his mucus.

He glances at her, bruises clouding her freshly cleaned cheeks, one eye purple. Her arms and hands were the same, too. When her eyes catch his, she looks down immediately, pulling away as an embarrassed red paints her cheeks.

“Katsuki...” The king slowly kneels before his son. “What do you think?” “What do you mean?” He raises a light eyebrow, confusion written on his face with wide letters.

The king glances over to his prideful wife, who only softly shrugs, both unaware of what to do with the girl who could’ve possibly ended up reduced to some lifeless corpse in a few more days of starvation. They don’t get to ask Katsuki more than he’s already done; finding the girl. Yet, it seems as though the almighty king and queen, for the first time, are out of any other options.

“Would you mind staying with her until we figure out how to help her do things on her own?” His brunette father spoke gently, simplifying the words so that the young, stubborn prince could understand much of it.

“I’m not a kid,” He huffs, annoyance unjustified. “Of course I’ll help her around. That’s my job.”

A scream erupts from her lips before she could help it. Her eyes immediately shot shut as she holds out her arms in defense, ready for the punishment for being so loud.

“Hey, easy there,” The man at the infirmary smiles gently at her. “What’s wrong?”

“She doesn’t want anyone touching her wrists,” Katsuki confirms, watching over them closely like an examiner over a test. The doctor helping figure out her bruises as y/n flinches like a spooked animal. “Manacles trauma,” he nods. “These monsters really did their business.”

“Katsukiiiii,” she whines, helplessly running. “Slow down a little!” “Not a chance!” Her friend chuckles aloud, tugging at the blindfolded girl’s hand as his legs take off, fleeting against the floor of the castle.

He comes to a sudden stop, pulling Y/n to stop too.

“Why’d you stop?” she questions, tightening her grip over his small fingers. “Shh, we’re here,” he talks, smiling agape as attempts to control his uncontrollable excitement.

His hand leaves hers, clutching on to the blindfold at the back of her head. Swiftly, he rids her of the void she was staring into.

The sight she was outlet into was like an ambush to her feelings. Unable to form any words or create a reaction other than a stuttered “is this for me?”

“Do you... yes! It’s yours! Do you like it?” The young ash blonde asks excitedly, watching over the girl’s reaction. “It’s even right next to mine!”

She turns to him, tears filling her pretty y/e/c eyes. Before he realized it, she’s pulled him into a tight embrace, sobbing for some reason unbeknownst to him.

“Thank you.”

( Back to the present )

“Can we go back inside now?” He felt her breath before he heard her voice, straight up nauseous from the amount of people gathered up in such feast.

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” he grumbles under his breath. He sounds annoyed, but it’s no sweat for his lover to slip past his well-made façade.

“Thank you, Katsu,” She presses a soft kiss on his cheek. Even though he knows no one saw, due to their position at the far corner of the room, his cheeks rise a flame. He immediately grimaces, you could practically see steam fuming from his ears as he, without any ado, stomps inside puling the girl alongside.

“I sure hope you have a proper explanation for that, princess,” He folds two strong, muscular arms onto his bare chest. The multiple necklaces and animal teeth almost scrambling away from his arms. “Explanation for what?” Y/n raised a brow, playing dumb. She smiles softly, twirling a lock of y/h/c hair around her index finger, knowing damn well the practiced act does the trick.

“Tch,”he rolls his eyes. Only throwing himself on the couch. “Sit here, idiot,” he pats the spot beside him in a soft manner, indicating he’s about to start a sensitive conversation.

Gracefully, Y/n places herself on the couch, placing he r head on Katsuki’s broad shoulder. His arm wraps around her waist like it always does, scooting her closer as it finds rest on her thigh ((stfu-)).

“This morning you were... crying?” He spoke softly, unable to find the perfect way to speak in this specific situation.

Y/n takes a deep breath, fingers fidgeting with Katsuki’s fingers. “Nightmares,” she admits. “The same one?” “I think,” she shrugs, gulping. “I can only remember the faces of.. you know.”

By the way her fingers slightly squeezed his, Bakugou knew he should stop the conversation there.

“Don’t worry,” his voice was so, very low she could barely hear him. He presses a tender kiss on the top of her head, letting his lips take the weight of her whole head, finding rest at that spot. “No one will harm you as long as I’m here,” his voice sent slight vibrations through her head, as he inhales the familiar scent of her hair. “And you know I’m too stubborn to die, anyway.”

“Wow, very comforting, Katsuki,” she chuckles, pressing a kiss on his shoulder. “Shut up,” he blurts, flustered. “I love you too, Katsu,” She held his hand with both hers, printing continuous pecks on it.

His hand grips her cheek, the other gripping the opposite. Fixing his seating, he pulls her face upwards, planting a firm and fiery kiss that’s too short for her liking on her soft lips.

Unlike the rest of the shapeshifters, and unlike most of the the population she lives amongst in this country, Y/n’s a soft, curious soul. Not made for a harsh living or to be put against anything. Yet, the fire in her only ever lured people, the difference in her. Of all people, the heir to the dragon throne, Katsuki Bkugou.

“Fuck you for being like this,” his ruby eyes bore into hers, unable to find a single flaw.

Both the kids’ hearts raced in their chests.

He learnt to never touch her wrists, instead, he touched her soul to anchor her

#bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki #bakugo fluff #katsuki fluff #bakugou fluff #bakugou x reader fluff #bakugou katsuki x reader fluff #katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader fluff #bakugo #bKUGOU X READER #bnha fluff #bnha x reader #bnha x reader fluff #fantasy au #bakugou au #bnha au

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me-and-your-husband · 4 years ago

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Need Someone (Part 2)

Summary: Reader gets into some trouble, and doesn’t know who else to call besides her best friend’s dad, District Attorney Andy Barber.

Warnings: age gap, kidnapping and attempted sexual assault.

Pairing: Andy Barber x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Note: Lets say reader is 18 and in senior year.

I had managed to get my captor to untie me from the bed, which was the first step in the right direction. Now, I sat with my legs hanging off the side of the bed, trembling. He sat beside me, stroking my hair. I could feel his hot breath on my neck. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping that I would be able to endure less of it. When I was finally able to stop thinking about the man’s lingering breath on my neck, I felt his dry lips attach to my neck in a chaste kiss. I let out a noise of disgust, and my eyes widened when I realized what I just did.

A calloused hand came up to grip my jaw, and the man swiftly turned my face to meet his. His eyebrows met in a frenzy of anger, yet the corners of his mouth curled up in a sinister smirk.

“I thought you were ‘gonna be cooperative, Hon’,” He said rhetorically. My bottom lip trembled out of fear when I tried to speak. Breaking eye contact, I moved my gaze back down to my hands, clutching the bed sheets.

Just then, I felt a cold force hit my cheek, sending me flying to the floor with a thud. I pressed my hand to my cheek, my cold hand being a vast contrast to the burning flesh where the mark was left. A shaky breath escaped my lips, as my eyes darted around the room, searching for a plan. The man let out an almost grizzly-like growl at this, and lunged toward me. Luckily, I was able to bound away and stumble through the bedroom door. Trying to navigate my way through this house was difficult; the man had carried me up here when I was unconscious.

Sprinting to the door to what I assumed would be the stairs, I slammed the door behind me and my trembling hand frantically moved to lock it, but the whole door handle had been removed. Adrenaline pumped through my body as I looked around the room. It seemed to be a guest room, decorated with little but a bed, a nightstand with a single lamp on it, and a rocking chair sat by the small window, which was currently open, letting a draft in, causing the thin curtains to sway in the breeze.

My legs took me to the window, where I yelled for help as loud as I could, even sticking my head out the window to wave to anyone passing by. It was light now, around noon, according to the place of the sun in the sky. Surely, the Barbers had realized something was wrong when Jacob didn’t hear from me yet today.

“Come here, you bitch!” is what echoed through the hall, heavy footsteps approaching the door. The thought went into my head for a brief moment, and I knew I had to at least try. I grabbed the lamp from the nightstand and removed the shade, revealing a glass lightbulb. Quickly, I ran to hide behind the doorknob-less door, and held the lamp close to my chest, Drawing a deep breath in, I waited for the door to swing open.

Once the door opened, I waited for the man to step far enough into the room. His sweaty figure had it’s back turned towards me, to which I stepped forward, raising the lamp above my head. I brought it down with force, and the sound of glass shattering could be heard amongst the throaty groan the man let out. Blood trickled from his bald skull, as his hand came up to check the wound site. When he seen that crimson painted his fingers, he slowly turned around to face me. The lamp in my hands, which were cut and bleeding from the glass, fell onto the ground in between us.

“You little slut. You think you can do this to me? Just wait until I get my hands on you, you little...” I couldn’t hear the rest, as my legs took me down the stairs, as if I knew this house like my own, and for some reason I ran right past the back door, and went for the kitchen. Flying around the kitchen island, I grabbed a knife from the knife block. Getting down with my back up against the cabinet of the kitchen island, I tried to steady my breath. For a few minutes, I heard nothing but silence. Then, a low, steady, unwavering, monotone groan, and something dragging. Then, more silence.

Hot tears spilled onto my cheeks, and the copper taste filled my mouth. I let go of the bottom lip that I had been anxiously gnawing on and stood up to take a peek over the island. My face was met with the man, blood running down the side of his face, leaning forward over the counter.

“Well, hi there,” he whispered, almost inaudibly. A blood-curdling shriek left my lips, one that felt like I had been holding back for a century. His large hand grabbed me by the hair, picking me up and throwing me across the kitchen floor, causing the knife in my hand to fall and slide across the floor.. I landed with a crack, and tried to ignore the pain resonating in my arm.

“No, no please stop, you don’t have to do this,” I cried, crawling backwards as best as I could on my elbows. I inched towards the knife, as he stalked towards me. He brought his foot out and gave me a hard kick in the ribs, gaining another cry out of me. As I lay there clutching my side, he sat on my legs, keeping me in place. Reaching into his pocket, he brought out a small gadget. Flipping it open , he revealed that it was a pocket knife.

“Now, since you won’t behave, I’ll give you something to remember me every time you look in the mirror,” He stated dastardly. Despite my thrashing, he brought the knife up to just under my left eye on my cheek, and pressed into the skin. He didn’t go deep enough for me to bleed out, nor for it to scar, but it still hurt like a bitch,

His other hand came up to cover my mouth, muffling my screams and protests. He dragged the blade along my flesh, but in moment of his hesitation, I caught him off guard and brought my fist up to his stomach. The blow was hard enough for him to fall off of me, releasing my legs. I crawled on my stomach over to the knife that was now a few feet away from me.

When my fingertips brushed the hilt of it, A strong hand wrapped around my ankle. He pulled me back towards him, but luckily I had managed to wrap my hand around the knife’s blade, cutting into my hand. I moved my hand down to the hilt, and turned around. I plunged it straight into his neck, and his eyes popped out of their sockets. Both of his hands immediately came up to clutch his bleeding neck. Blood gushed and squirted out of it. Within ten seconds, we were both laying in a pool of our blood, more his than mine.

I listened to his breathing patterns. They finally went form sounding mucus-filled and clotted, to none at all. Once I had realized he was really dead and he was safe, the adrenaline started to wear off and I became tired.

The realization that I needed help was what brought me back from drifting off. I managed to climb off the floor, and reach the house phone that sat on the counter by the stove. I grabbed the phone and dialed 911, but a thought crossed my mind. What if I get charged for murder? What if they don’t understand it was self defense?

I finally make up my mind, and make the decision to call the only other person I know that can for sure help me. I dialed Andy Barber’s number, and waited as it rung. I crossed my fingers in hopes that he would pick up. While it was ringing, I took in my surroundings. The white kitchen walls were now splattered with blood, the tiled floor flooded in it. My clothes were soaked in either his blood or mine. This reminded me of my cheek, to which I brought my hand up to swipe across. This was a bad idea, as the touch made it sting more.

I was pulled out of my trance by a tired, raspy voice. “Andy Barber speaking,” came from the other line, and I let out a breath I had been holding in.

“Andy?” I said, but it came out in almost a whisper. It was like I could physically feel him perk up.

“Y/N? Is that you? Where are you?”

“Andy, I don’t know where I am. I’m in a house,” I told him earnestly.

“Alright,” he sighed. I could just imagine him running his hand over his face. “Look for bills, or anything that could have the address on it,”

I hummed in response and began scavenging the kitchen for bills or documents. I went through all of the drawers and cupboards with the phone between my ear and shoulder, finding nothing. I was just about ready to give up when I noticed a paper pinned on the stainless steel refrigerator with a magnet. I crept up to the fridge, almost cautiously. I held the phone to my ear with one hand and reached out for the paper slowly with the other. I plucked it off of the fridge and held it in front of me. My trembling hand made it difficult to read, but I could make out a name.

ROBERT ARTHUR HADDOCK

1271 ASPIN WAY

“1271 Aspin Way, that’s where I am,” I said in monotone to the phone. Andy cleared his throat.

“Okay, alright. Just hang tight, honey. I’ll send the police down, they’ll be there shortly. Stay on the line, okay?” he said soothingly.

“No, no Andy you can’t, I-”

“It’s alright, honey it’ll be fine, I trust these people. I wouldn’t let them anywhere near you if I didn’t,” He reassured me. It might have been inappropriate, the time and place considered, but the pet name he kept using made my heart flutter.

“It’s not that, I...I killed him,”

Silence from the other end. I could picture Andy’s mouth agape.

“But-but it was in self defense, I swear! He was trying to hurt me, he did hurt me. Oh right, I’m still bleeding,” I said, voice trailing off at the end. This brought him out of his silence.

“What! Y/N, you’re hurt? How bad is it?” He badgered, concern laced in his voice.

“I think my arm’s broke, he cut my cheek, and he kicked me in the ribs. There’s blood everywhere, oh God. I don’t even know how much of it’s mine...” I mewled, my voice cracking at the end, the tears coming back down again.

“I’m on my way,” Andy stated.

“Please don’t tell Jacob, and don’t bring anybody else, please,” I begged.

“I won’t,” he said gently, before I heard a car door open and shut swiftly. “...Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“It’s been nearly three days. For three fucking days you could have been dead,”

Sitting on the floor by the front door, I sat talking to Andy as he drove. This house was on the other side of Newton.

The phone I was using gave a warning beep, to let me know that it was almost dead.

“Andy. the phone’s almost dead,” I said softly.

“It’s okay, I’m almost there. I’m about five minutes away, you can unlock the-”

The phone died.

Letting out a sigh, I threw the drained house phone across the room. “Damn it,” I murmured to myself. It was then, sitting in the approaching darkness, utterly alone, that I realized that I needed to use the washroom. The only problem was, I didn’t know where it was, and I just killed the guy who owns it.

I stood up with a grunt, and started opening random doors. When I opened the last one at the end of a long, white corridor, a foul smell floated into the air. Trying to keep down the lunch I was deprived of, I plugged my nose. My eyes found a small string hanging from the ceiling, to which I assumed would turn on a light. I was correct.

Bright orange light flooded the small room, which revealed to me that there was one flight of stairs below me. At the bottom, the sight I was presented with shook me to my core.

Seven women lay on the landing at the end of the stairs, all defiled and mutilated. The bodies of the women were bloated and purple, and some even looked like they had started rotting.

The scream that left my mouth this time was so vile and so loud, that I couldn’t hear Andy forcefully opening the front door and stumbling in, yelling my name. I only stopped screaming when I fell to the ground, either passing out from blood loss or shock, cheeks wet from tears. Andy’s thick arms wrapped around me, catching me before I hit the hard ground.

Tags: @zaddychris @kyrarose16 @lexeeehhh @kelbabyblue @lovelivelife128

@kalesrebellion

#andy barber #andy barber x female reader #andy barber x reader #defending jacob

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fandomout · 4 years ago

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Dean Winchester Imagine/Preference - After he left you stranded Part 2

Part 1 Dean Winchester Imagine/Preference- He leaves you stranded (Gender Neutral Reader)

I don’t own this gif, but all I know is it’s from tenor.

This takes place a around season 5 and 6 just for reference as to some things said and Castiel makes appearance. Angst/Fluff.

“You fucking asshole! You fucking suck!” Although you felt a little better, you looked like a crazy person to the people passing. You covered your shoulders in hopes to lessen the bumps that textured your skin. You were lost in your thoughts when you collided into a body. You looked up to see, but you were barely able to make out their face. Tears were blurring your vision. You wiped one of your eyes, which gave you enough visibility to make out Castiel. You didn’t even bother wiping the tears and simply asked him, “What are you doing here? Did something happen? Are you okay?”

“What I am doing here is that I heard your cries of distress. Also, I was wondering who you were referring to.”

“Don’t worry, I wasn't talking to god, or you, or some angel...just the world...Me and Dean got in a fight.”

“I did see a glance of that interaction, my apologies.”

”You didn’t mean to...Wait, you came because I was crying?”

”Yes. I was wondering what trouble there could be that would make you cry. Through most of our encounters, you’ve seemed very level headed and calm, so it had to be of importance...Well, I assumed.”

“Sorry to disappoint. It’s just relationship drama.”

“Disappointment doesn’t correlate to me and your situation. It wouldn't make sense.”

“I don’t mean it literally.”

“Ah.”

“I’m sorry. You came for nothing.”

“He left you here. Why?”

“Cleary, he doesn't care...enough...if at all.”

“But, you are in a relationship. Are you not? Why would he leave you here if he cared?”

“Hell if I know.”

“Anyway, it is not for nothing that I came. I can provide comfort.”

“I really don’t need it. There’s nothing you could say.”

“But, you need it.”

“There are more important things...you probably need to get back to your war, right?” He replied with a heavy sigh and the words, “I could use the break.”

“Let’s talk about you. It would make me feel better if you felt a little better.”

“How can I feel better?”

“Just tell me how you feel about the war. How’s the war going? I’m sure that’s a stupid question, but I thought it was better than not asking anything. I know we don’t pay enough attention to you on the personal level...I’m sorry we haven’t been able to help you. I’m sorry you have to kill your brothers and sisters…”

“Thank you...You are the only one whose expressed concern to me…It’s simply terrible at all times.” You put a hand on his shoulder and keep walking. ”So, where are you going?”

“I don’t know.”

“I can take you back to where you were residing.” Castiel reaches forward to take your shoulder, but you move back from him before he gets the chance. He furrows his brows and tilts his head at you. A look of pure innocent confusion.

“No. I will tough it out. If he’s just gonna leave me here, I’m gonna make my own way. I refuse to be helped.”

“Why?”

“For some dignity or pride with a hint of stupidity because it's cold and gonna be a long walk.”

“I could take you to the motel, and you could call it your way. You are exercising your resource, i.e me.”

“No, Cas. I don’t want to take the easy route. He thinks he can control me and make me feel worse? Nope! I’m gonna get there on my own, and he can't say anything. He doesn't deserve the satisfaction. I walk for me and me only.”

“I do not understand. I do not understand your desire to take the difficult path.”

“Sometimes it’s...it’s worth it. The hard way has its moments. Plus, Cas, you shouldn't have to take me.”

“I want to.” A blast of light strikes before it starts pouring rain. You continue on your pace, unwavering.

“Has your plan changed?!” Castiel yelled over how loud the rain was.

“Nope! Well-I think I’m just gonna walk all the way to the motel we were at! Get my things and get out of there!”

“That’s a bad plan!”

“Best one I’ve got! I only have $20 on me, and I left my stuff in Dean’s car!”

“You’re going to get sick!” He says, but it gets muffled by the sound of thunder.

“What?!”

“I said you’ll get sick!”

“So be it! I’ll live!”

“I should head back!” He looked regrettable because he doesn’t want to go. You give him the best smile you can muster and give him a hug along with the words, “Thank you for being here for me although unintentional!”

“I express my appreciation to you asking about me. Hope you have safe travels; however, unlikely I think it is right now!” You laugh a bit at his words. You weren't sure how to respond, but it didn't matter. You never got the chance to as he flew away. You feel a bit better having talked to Castiel. You're thankful for the rain sympathizing with you, and you think you’ve stopped crying. Determined, you walk all night until you get to the motel at about 6:30 am. You were lucky enough to find someone to check you in. With a very hoarse voice, you say, “Can I get the room key for 321 B? I lost mine.”

“I can't just let you in, lady.” He says firmly.

“You saw me come in with those two big guys.”

“Oh. Yeah.” You leave your hand out ready, but he continues to say, “Still...I can't just give it to you.” You reach forward frustrated and grab him by the collar. You take out the $20 from your pocket.

“Listen, bud-You either take my $20 and give me the key, or I take the key, forcefully. Your choice.” He reaches for it desperately and hands it to you. You open the door, and you see both Sam and Dean still asleep. You quietly get your things, and you head back to the clerk. He moves to the wall, scared. You put money on the table.

“Give me a room for one.” He taps uneasily, but does as you say quickly.

“Thank you.” You go to your new room. Immediately, you head for the water and chug it down earnestly. You sneeze three times in a row and wipe your nose. You change your clothes into warmer attire, which ends in pj’s. You get over to the bed and cover yourself in the blankets. You feel some kind of warmth reach your body, but you can't help still feeling cold. You grab tissue next to yours and have to keep blowing mucus out of your body.

“Gret.” You said nasally. “I’m fucking sick.” You shrug and close your eyes as your weak and tired body won’t allow anything else to happen.

No One’s POV

Dean wakes up to being shaken harshly. He pulls out his gun from under the pillow and says, “What?” His eyes meet Sam’s, and Sam asks, “Where’s Y/N?” Dean puts his gun down; After sitting up, he tries to respond before he cuts himself off and remembers everything from last night. “They’re somewhere...”, He says pursing his lips and starts putting his clothes back on.

“Somewhere?”

“Yeah.” He says and puts on his boots.

“What happened?”

“Why are you asking?”

“Clearly, something happened because you won’t give me a straight answer. Where are they?”

“I don’t know.”

“What?!”

“We got in a fight...”

“And?!”

“And I...left them.” He said softly that Sam couldn’t hear.

“What?”

“I left them at the bar.” He said firmly.

“You’re such a dick! Fucking asshole! They're not here! Something could have happened to them!”

“I know! I know…” Dean stood up and looked around the room. His eyes landed on the couch where their bag should be. His mouth became very dry, and his heart panged. “Oh god…” He whispered.

“What?” Sam asked as he looked in Dean’s direction. As Sam came to the same relaxation, he clenched his jaw, and said, “You really fucking suck!” Dean just walked over to his keys on the counter and headed out the door. Sam hurriedly got his jacket and followed after. “Where the hell are you going?”

“The bar.”

“I doubt they're there.”

“What makes you say that?”

“It’s not like they can stay there all night. It was raining last night too. They can't just sit outside the bar like they’re living there.”

“You don’t know. They could've stayed put.”

“They didn’t get fucking lost! And they’re not some child! You left them there! Left your s/o there!” Dean can only clench his jaw and start the car. As they arrive at the bar, they ask anyone around, but no one knows where they’d gone. Dean got back into Baby and he jerked the steering wheel angrily. “Dammit!...” He let out a breath. “Where would they go?”

“Somewhere to sleep?” Sam tells him with a shrug.

“How’s that work?”

“What do you mean?” Dean gestures to the back where their jacket was. Sam picks it up and looks inside of it to see their phones and wallet. “Great! Just great Dean! You left them without anything! There is no way of finding them.”

“Sam, can you shut the hell up?! I know I messed up! I know I'm the fucking asshole that left his s/o stranded in the rain! I’m fucking selfish!-” He stopped for a moment and his eyes became teary. He looked out the window for Sam not to see him, and in a weak voice said, “Something could have happened...” Dean held the steering wheel until is knuckles turned white. Sam looked at him sympathetically and said, “I’m glad you know. Look, Let’s head back to the motel.”

“What?! We can't just-”

“If you were upset enough to leave them, I know they're more upset. They didn’t try to contact me or anyone, so chances are they figured it out...I mean if nothing happened...They’ll probably be stubborn enough to get back on their own. The bar is far from the motel on foot, but they probably walked, D.” As Sam and Dean pull into the motel, Dean paces around in nervousness. Having done so for about 2 minutes, his eyes end up landing on the small frame of someone by the vending machine. He looked down to their shoes to see the wrecked combat boots he’d been seeing for the longest. He basically jogged up. Sam followed slowly in confusion. Dean’s eyes met their face, and he fully ran over to them. He scooped them in his arms. His arms wrapped over their waist.

Your POV

Dean let out a shaky breath and smiled. With teary eyes, he reached to cup your face. You moved away from his touch and took yourself out of his embrace.

“Y/N-”

“Sam, how are you this morning?!” You asked. You were not going to just let him off the hook. While he looked worried, you remembered how unimportant you seemed last night, so you ignored him. In your peripherals, you could see Dean licked his lips nervously.

“Better. Now, that you're no longer missing. We-” Sam replied and was cut off by Dean saying, “Where the hell were you?!” You ignored his worry and responded, “Sam, you didn’t have to worry. I just got another room for myself this time around.”

“We went everywhere looking for you. Glad you're safe.”

“Than-Achoo!” You put your nose on your sleeve. Dean reached over in calmer composure to grab your arm and tell you, “Come on, red nose, we’ll get you better.” You pulled away from him. You looked toward Sam and said, “I’m gonna get myself something warm and sleep a bit more. I had a loooong night.” You couldn’t help being a little shit since you felt it was owed to you for the shitty night you had before. You padded Sam’s shoulder and told him, “I’m gonna head back to my room see you later.” before you left towards your room. With a heavy heart and footsteps, you were in the need to feel some kind of better since being sick didn’t help. When you got into your room, you went into the bathroom to take a look in the mirror. “Oh. I do look terrible.” You turned on the showerhead and walked back into the main space only to see Dean. You gave him one more second until you averted your eyes and resumed ignorance of his existence. You were getting clothes when you heard the shower turn off. You rolled your eyes and were making your way back to the bathroom when Dean blocked your path. You sighed heavily and threw you clothes on the couch. You walked back over to your bed, curled into the blanket and tried to get back to sleep. You felt his eyes on you, but you refused to look at him. You felt the bed starting to dip, and you couldn’t help state, “Don’t.”

“We’ve got to talk…” He said delicately. You sat up and looked at him as he shifted nervously in a way that made you just want to go hug him. Instead, you stayed put and found the words, “Talk.” slipping past your lips.

Part 3 Dean Winchester Imagine/Preference - Making up after he left you stranded (Gender Neutral Reader) Part 3

Hope your day got better

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theramseyloft · 4 years ago

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3/12/21 Loft Notes

My idiot son thought he would challenge the shop vac today over it getting to go into quarantine when he can't.

He tried to bite what he considered its face.

Patron: "And what did he consider its face?"

The nozzle I was sucking up dried Bird-Bird hallway poos with.

Patron: "w....while it was on or"

I was using it at the time, yes.

It went predictably.

It's too narrow to suck his head all the way in, but he did snatch away from it and run.

Nothing injured, no worries.

Ooh!

IQ just received Rogue's sample!

So, I should know their sex Tuesday or Thursday. (2-4 work days...)

Patron: "what are you hoping for cock or hen?"

Just to know.

I have people on the wait list for therapy cocks and hens, if they pass.

If they wash, but are friendly, I have people on the list for companion birds of either sex.

And if they prefer other birds, I have some one on the breeders list for Spread.

So, no matter what sex or temperament Rogue turns out to be, there is a home lined up.

Bluh... I am just... Worn to the bone exhausted.

Ok.

Got all the inside stuff done, and need to stop for lunch.

It feels like I'm just running so far below empty...

Patron: "God I feel you, but you can do it! Get help if you need to, you don’t have to do it all yourself (hopefully)"

Bless you for the sentiment, but I do.

Got food in me again. Hopefully, that helps.

No pip marks yet on the bator egg.

Need to ask you guys a favor from now on.

If y'all see me online on Monday, Wednesday, or Friday, doing anything but taking loft notes here...

Ask me if I am done in the loft.

My executive function is so garbage that it functions like a tower of blocks that I have to manually stack at the beginning of every day.

Especially if I'm low on spoons, doing anything other than what manually needs to be done for the birds in the morning forces another block in at the base of the stack, and the whole thing topples.

It can take me hours to restack it, and I cannot move until it's restacked.

Thank you.

I have restacked that damn thing four times today, I am just getting started with work in the actual loft, only the inside birds have been fed.

I'm kind of a mess, nothing is fixing it, and I keep being magnetically drawn to my phone for any hope of a dopamine boost.

My brain is fried, and I just need to keep moving until I can stop.

Rogue is up and mobile, so I need to start harness work for them SOON!!!

Patron: "what is rogue looking like? i tried to look up a pic earlier and only see a hatch day pic"

Yeah, I have over w eek of media backlogged because I just... Have had no time.

Black with white flights.

Between prep for travel Monday, some family crap that broke out that night and only allowed me two hours of sleep, travel on Tuesday, server drama that night, literally collapsing from exhaustion, having to get up and clean the loft Wednesday, and car shopping on Thursday...

The only time I have had to myself was spent sleeping.

I have not even had time to post any of the photos I have taken.

I am dead on my freaking feet.

And yeah, Rogue is Leonard's.

He's the only spread cock, and he appears homozygous.

Ginger is Ash Red. Unless he carries blue or brown, all babies out of him will be ash red.

Chiffon is also spread, but they're heterozygous, not yet sexually mature, and likely a hen.

Angel is getting the hang of hands being the interaction bits, and has discovered that there are no unpleasant consequences for biting those.

He seems to feel better now that he knows what part of me he can lodge complaints with and engage for play fights.

He is absolutely fascinated by the bucket of seeds with character that I have cleaned off the floor.

Birds are getting a little treat today!

It's nice out.

I'mma fill them a bath.

They have been trying to bathe in their water dish for weeks now.

Betty and Liang's egg was fertile, but died two days or so into development.

Which means she can be safely separated as soon as some one wants her.

God bless that salt and mineral brick absorbing moisture from the air.

The sand has been SO easy to clean!

Note to self, check Satin's fan and Sprinks' underfluffies and see if they need their breeding trims renewed...

Oh! I should probably check Farthing's underfluffies too.

Some one tread or attempted to, but I couldn't see who.

Weeeell fuck me runnin'...

Couture has a crest.

Sprinks doesn't cary a crest.

Satin is half Danzig, so he does, but if his were dominant, or partially dominant, he would express it.

The Komorner crest is partially a hood, much the way an Old Dutch Capuchin's is.

That's a combination of the Shell Crest (recessive) and a hood modifier (which appears partially dominant, if Papillion and Cookie are anything to go on.

Cotoure maaaay be another Vito child...

Which would also explain their very small size.

A child out of Satin and Sprinks should be HUGE!

Like, just-under-Lucy big.

The Lahore pattern, I believe, is a combination of bald head and capped.

So, throw in another bald head, and the cap separates out.

So, Vito has been a GREAT investment for loft diversity!

Hopefully, his kids inherit his fertility and not so much his bastard. XD

He's been a great nest partner to Leela (who may also need her underfluffies trimmed)

I'd really like to see what he is like on peeps before he retires for his slutty, slutty crimes.

Betty tops the retirement list right now for having a sexually mature daughter and granddaughter, and a second granddaughter out of another son.

WAY too much temptation for a boy who loves girls shaped like Hagrid.

Luxie tops the hen list for being Luxie.

Liang is retired already. Now that MJ is mom-ing like she should, she's lower on the list.

Presently, Vito is after Betty on the retirement list for slutty bastard crimes. XD

Good lord, the little black pied peeps are taking flying hops!

There are vids up on insta of the bath, and of Leonard feeding his peeps.

Patron: "Oh my god if that's another Vito kid"

"did you ever catch Sprinks interested in him"

Nope!

Angel is a very funny man. He was wooing my feet, and when I told him that, he charged in and bit my toe. XD

And then pooed the one patch of sand I had cleaned. XD

Danica may be getting ready to lay tonight.

In the box she and Ginger had wanted before Satin and Sprinks had to come in.

Farthing and Leela just got their underfluffies trimmed.

Angel, caught in the act, eating garbage.

He just got more dumped on him, shook it off, and went right back to rummaging for treats.

Has made not move one to leave.

Now he is on my shoulder, complaining about me repeatedly interrupting him by dumping in more.

Thistle just tread Mj, despite Pippin's cock blocking efforts.

Holding Nettle is apparently a crime.

Angel bit my ear for it and got tossed off my shoulder.

Now he's back, complaining about it.

She loafed in my lap after fighting me the whole way through putting Nettle down.

Angel does NOT think I am engaging him enough.

Since biting isn't working, he is now pooping where I have just cleaned.

I don't like the way Ginger is breathing.

He's been fine up to this point...

And it could just be from being really active this evening...

But he isn't the only bird who was and none of the rest are panting like that.

Man, it would SUCK for Nica to lay and then me to have to bring him in...

But the way his chest is pumping, and he keeps flexing his beak hinge really worries me.

Hopefully, some one else lays near enough to Nica that I can swap her eggs over.

Or he's just gotten a feather or something stuck in his choanal slit.

Ok. I think is is something stuck.

He hasn't done the uncomfortable yawn or swallow.

Just flexed his beak a lot and itched at the corners of his mouth.

It looks like he's dislodged it and is breathing normally.

Y'all have NO idea how paranoid I am about Trich!

Mm.. that looked like an uncomfortable yawn and more heavy breathing.

Gonna grab him once I finish up the sand.

God damnit... Lot of mucus...

Maybe something stuck? Can't tell...

I'm tired, and don't want to accidentally hurt him..

I also don't want to risk putting Danica in a dangerous position when she's about to lay.

Her bastard ex could kill her by forcing her into another stress lay.

I may have a solution.

Need to run to get it set up, though.

Ok, on our way to Walmart to grab a kennel.

The only place open didn't have the size kennel I wanted, but they had a pet taxi big enough.

The egg due to hatch today was rotten.

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xmint-conditionx · 4 years ago

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☆ flanked ☆ ch2 | knj

(verb) flank -

guard or strengthen (a military force or position) from the side.

attack down or from the sides, or rake with gunfire from the sides.

☆ pairing: soldier!namjoon x widow!reader; namjoon x fem!reader ☆ word count: 3.1K ☆ summary: you’re a recently widowed military spouse who is stationed at camp walker, south korea. you’re dealing with the tragedy of your husband’s recent death, and in the process, you accidentally meet a k-pop idol you’ve had a crush on for years. who knew you’d both be at the same post while he’s doing his compulsory service? who knew he’d be so damn nice? who knew it would be impossible to get him out of your head? ☆ warnings: angst, mentions of death, grieving, lots of fluff in this chapter tbh and you might die because dork namjoon has come to the party ☆ a/n: hey everyone c: sorry this repost is a little late; i've been sick the past two days and holed up in bed for the last one. i'm so excited to release this for you and start on the next chapter.

It is 6:05 in the morning, and you are awake. Not wide awake, but awake. You can’t believe you let Namjoon convince you to get up this early, because frankly, nobody has ever convinced you to get up this early. When he said that you’d have to get there first thing in the morning so you can see everything, you really didn’t think he would mean you’d have to get there at 7 AM. It’s always been your philosophy that it’s wrong to wake up before the sun, and you’re finding that getting out of bed in your pitch black room isn’t easy. You’re gonna have to make sure to clarify everything that man says in the future. Ugh, military men, you think.

You groan, muscles stiff as you finally manage to get yourself out of bed.

Bananas is obviously not getting the memo, the only sign of him being his fluffy tail poking out from under the covers. He’s never been into early mornings either.

Namjoon sent you a text yesterday and told you that the exhibit that he really wants to show you requires tickets. He then told you that because they only sell 100 tickets per day on a first come first serve basis; getting in line any later than 7 AM would surely be entirely too late, apparently. The Daegu Art Museum opens at 10, tickets go on sale at 9:30, yet you need to be in line no later than 7? Sure.

He seemed really excited about the exhibit, though, saying that Yayoi Kusama, whoever that person was, was a genius. So… you couldn’t exactly turn him down. Her works were deep and breathtaking and spoke so much about life, according to Namjoon. He had promised it would be worth it, and you thought about that promise as you groggily did your morning routine. Yeah, you thought, it had better be. If only he hadn’t sent too many pleading-eye emojis.

You grabbed your over the shoulder bag and gave Bananas a good belly rub before heading outside.

Despite being almost non-functional this early in the morning, you beat Namjoon to the museum. Gawking at the massive modern building, you walk up to the front doors, where a decent line has already formed. Okay, maybe he was right.

You find yourself a place at the back of the line and just as you reach in your bag to grab your phone to text him, you see Namjoon walking in your direction, long legs making short work of catching up to you. You catch his eyes lingering on your bare legs as he approaches, and for just a moment, you’re glad you chose to wear this skirt.

“Morning, Namjoon,” you groan, leaning up against the museum’s outer wall. More people start filing in line after you, and you’re thankful Namjoon wasn’t too late. “I guess you were right. Look at all these people.”

“Morning, peach,” he says with another one of his dimpled grins, “Glad it’s warming up out? It’s supposed to hit 20 degrees today.”

“Okay, it is entirely too early for you to be this happy,” you say, voice groggy. Namjoon just shrugs.

“Guess I’m just excited.”

You look around the small crowd that has formed and notice that a lot of the people are sitting up against the wall while they wait. You decide to do the same.

“I am too, trust me,” you say, back resting against the cool stone, “I’m just not usually up this early.”

“I see. Maybe conversation can keep you awake. Are there any other places in Daegu you want to see?” Namjoon inquires.

“Well, there is that aquarium I keep hearing about. One of my coworkers on post says that there are mermaids that do a little performance with the fish.”

“Oh! I know which one you’re talking about! I’ve actually been there a few times. I love it there! Fish are so cool.”

“Before I went into veterinary science,” you say, “I was originally planning on being a marine biologist.”

“You’re a vet? I didn’t know that! No wonder Bananas looks like such a happy pup!”

“Yeah,” you say, letting your head fall back, “he really is. But, I really want to go check it out. It’s been a long time since I’ve been to an aquarium.”

“The mermaid performers swim around with a bunch of stingrays. Stingrays are actually not that dangerous, especially if they have the barbs removed from their tails.”

You feel your eyes growing heavy.

“Wow, I didn’t know that.”

“A lot of people think they’re really dangerous because Steve Irwin died from a sting from a stingray, but his injury was a result of the barb piercing his thoracic wall. Most stingray injuries are actually very mild.”

“That’s interesting,” you say quietly, eyes fluttering closed.

“Some people think that cutting down their barbs is abuse, but it’s like cutting off a fingernail to humans. They don’t feel it at all and it grows back over time.”

“Mhmmmmm,” you say as you feel yourself slipping back into sleep.

“It’s the touch tanks that can be a little problematic,” Namjoon continues, oblivious, “Stingrays have a type of mucus that covers their body that protects them from bacteria. If that gets rubbed off, they become vulnerable. A lot of zoos and aquariums are taking plenty of precautionary measures though, like making sure the guests wash their hands before and after they experience the touch tank. In fact, I think that given the proper precautions, touch tanks…”

______________

The warmth next to you feels like home, and threatens to pull you back to sleep. You feel yourself holding onto something... firm and yet so soft, but it’s comforting, so you tighten your grip and nuzzle further in. You then feel a gentle breeze run across your legs and wonder where your blankets have gone. Bananas has probably hogged them all. You breathe in and smell laundry detergent, a little musk and… men’s deodorant? There’s the quiet chatter of birdsong, and an unmistakable trickle of water, and you instantly remember where you are.

Your eyes snap open to find yourself snuggled up to Namjoon, arms hooked around his bicep and cheek against his shoulder. He seems un-bothered by your lack of respect for his personal space; he doesn’t even look up from his book. Like it’s the most natural thing for you to be attached to him like this. Embarrassed, you quickly distance yourself from him and apologize profusely while he just chuckles a bit. He puts his bookmark in to keep his place and turns towards you as you blink yourself awake, tasting the dryness in your mouth. Oh god, you must have had your mouth open.

“It’s fine, peach. I didn’t even realize you were asleep until you started snoring.”

You gasp. “I did not!”

“Oh, you did,” he says, eyeing you playfully, “It was only a little though. And it was really quiet. Kind of cute, actually.” You play hit him in the arm that you had just been latched on to.

“Hey, don’t be mad at me. I bought your ticket!”

“You what?! What time is it?” you ask, scrambling to look at your phone. It was 5 minutes until open. “Namjoon, why didn’t you wake me up?”

“I was going to, but you were sleeping so hard...”

“Well, at least that means I wasn’t all over you this entire time.”

“Oh, no," he says, "you were.”

You groan. “How did you get up and buy the tickets then without me knowing?”

“A man has to have some secrets, you know. Come on, let’s go look at some art.”

The inside of the Daegu Art Museum is stunning. The lobby is bright and open; the sunlight pours into that first room through the large windows, casting a lovely morning light on all of the bright and cheery visitors. Some of the larger pieces are displayed in this grand lobby, some towering ten of feet above you.

“Namjoon, this is beautiful.”

“Just you wait, Come on, first we’ll do classical, then lunch, then modern art. The best one we’ll save for last.”

Classical art wasn’t your favorite, but Namjoon got absorbed in just about every piece. When he saw one that really grabbed his attention, he would sit there gawking at it, mouth open as he read from the little plaque next to it. The way his eyes filled with wonder and widened with discovery at the newly rotated paintings was absolutely adorable. He almost had this child-like wonder about him, eagerly looking back and forth from the plaque to the painting and back again. You almost enjoyed studying Namjoon instead of the art.

You let him take the lead, showing you some of his favorite pieces as you navigate through the galleries. He is definitely in his element here. After he finishes his embellished tour of the classical works, you both decide it would be a good time to break for lunch. The museum has a little cafe, so Namjoon takes care of waiting for your orders while you are tasked with finding a nice spot to spread your blanket outside on the grounds. You see a spot beneath a tree offering up a little shade, so you spread the blanket over the soft grass and take your place, closing your eyes and breathing in the fresh air. Namjoon soon arrives with your food, and settles down next to you.

Before you start to eat, you remove your cardigan, exposing your chest and arms to the air, hoping to enjoy some of the new warmth in Daegu. You hear Namjoon take a sharp inhale, and thinking something’s wrong, you quickly look over at him. He’s got his eyes trained on you, and he swallows hard before he realizes you’re looking at him. He jerks his gaze away, finds something else to look at and shakes his head, as if to clear it. Was he… checking you out?

“Sorry, I thought I uh…” he trails off, “thought I saw a bug. It was, uh, just a shadow.”

“Uh, thanks for uh, looking out,” you say, before a thought strikes you, “Hey, Namjoon. I brought my painting stuff with me today. I was hoping to paint a little while we eat, is that okay? I don’t want to be bad company.”

He perks up, “Oh, yeah, sure. I can just keep reading my book. Hypervelocity stars aren’t going to learn about themselves!”

You set about getting out your watercolor palette, planning on using some of your bottled water to wet your paints. For some reason, you glance back over at Namjoon. He’s sitting with his back against the tree, legs crossed at the ankles, book in one hand, and bao in the other. His eyebrows are slightly furrowed together in concentration, and he lazily takes a bite, not even looking at the bao bun. You hold back a giggle when you see he got some sauce on his mouth. You can’t help but point it out by getting his attention and tapping your own bottom lip. Namjoon studies you for a minute, and slowly licks his bottom lip, almost too slowly. Before you can register what he had just done, he just smiles at you innocently and goes back to reading his book.

This man is going to kill you, so he might as well be the subject for your art. The way he’s positioned himself is just too adorable to ignore.

After getting the basic shape of his outline done and halfway through the details in his face, he stirs from his place under the tree. You watch him as he places his book down carefully on the blanket and walks toward your back, steps ever so gentle. You turn your head and see a little bird hopping around on the grass, and Namjoon is after it. He breaks off a piece of bread from his second bao and extends it towards the bird, who eyes him suspiciously. To your surprise though, it hops forward and takes the bread, chirping up at Namjoon. He goes to sit cross legged on the ground, but doing so ends up startling the bird, who then flies a short distance away on the lawn. Namjoon sulks and pouts a little before getting up and walking after the bird. This is the craziest thing you have ever seen. You love animals so much that you’ve dedicated your career to helping them stay healthy, but this is on a whole other level.

You go back to refining your art, throwing some color into the sky and on the tree, seeing as your main subject has wandered off.

You’re startled when he comes back from behind you.

“How’s the art coming?” he asks, looking over your shoulder at your book, “Hey! Is that me?!”

“Well, it was going to be until you started playing Snow White.”

“Yeah…” he says, looking down at what’s left of his sandwich, “the little guy ate all my bread.”

You laugh a little at him as he frowns at the char siu pork filling barely being contained by the thinnest bun dough you’ve ever seen. Widening his eyes, he downs the rest of the bao bun in one bite.

“Dind youh whanna fhinish youhr phaintingh?” he says, covering his full mouth as he speaks.

“I can finish it some other time. Let’s go see the modern stuff before I want another nap.”

Stepping into the large room that houses the modern art, you take in a sharp breath with how absolutely full it is. Sculptures, paintings, installations; and in the back of the room is a line leading to a small door. You don’t know where to look first, so thankfully your personal tour guide is there to show you the way.

You’re reading the plaque on a minimalistic piece when Namjoon comes and grabs your wrist, excitedly ushering you to follow him. He leads you to the other side of the room where he stops in front of a section of blank wall, gesturing for you to look at it. You sit there and wonder what in the world he could be talking about when you see it. A piece of bright pink gum is stuck to the pristine white wall.

“This wasn't here last time!” he exclaims in a whisper. “I can’t believe this.”

“Yeah, kinda sucks that someone did that.”

“No, you don’t get it. This is an installation.”

“... are you sure about that?”

“Yeah! Look, it's about how such a simple thing can ruin something so large. Like finding a fly in your chardonnay, or there being a hair in your food, or one small imperfection in a person ruining your whole view of them.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s actual trash, Namjoon.”

“Of course it’s actual trash. I don’t think the artist could have gotten the point across without using actual chewing gum. It says so much. It might also be depicting the actual process of tainting something too! Like, how long did the artist chew the gum before they stuck it there? How much time and effort did it take them to ruin this whole wall with their gum? Where’s the plaque?”

As Namjoon searches the nearby walls for a plaque, a janitor comes by and scrapes off the gum, smiling gently at the both of you. You send Namjoon a pointed look, one that’s screaming “I told you so,” and then you both start laughing, having to hold back most of the sound in the quiet of the viewing space.

“Okay, last but not least. You ready?” The two of you were next in line to enter that small door you had seen at the back of the room when you first entered. The lady taking the tickets had already informed you that you would have five minutes once the door shut. You still had no idea what to expect.

“Yeah, I guess I had better be.” The door opened, letting out the museum goer who had just been in there.

Namjoon leaned up to your ear from behind and gently said, “Close your eyes.”

You were about to protest when he continued speaking, placing his hands on your shoulders, “I’ll walk you in there and tell you when to open. Trust me?”

You answered him by letting your lids drop. You felt him guide you by your shoulders as you walked gently forward and then to the right. You could tell that the floor texture had changed from the concrete you’d been walking on all day to something more plastic. You heard the door softly click shut behind you.

“Open,” he commanded softly, and you complied.

You could not make sense out of what you were seeing. The view went on forever, but you could tell that the actual room was so very small. Directly in front of you and on all sides were mirrors, infinitely reflecting off of themselves into the horizon. You were both completely surrounded by them. Scattered around the part of the room that wasn’t the black platform that you were standing on were delicate fairy lights in a cool white tone. It felt like you were floating in a void, so endless and empty. There were specks of brightness, but they did nothing to change the darkness enveloping you. Though it felt infinite, there was a nagging sense of being trapped. Surrounded on all sides. It was beautiful and terrifying to look at. Consumed by everything and nothing. You forgot Namjoon was there until he spoke quietly against your ear.

“This is what I think grief looks like. If it could take a physical form, this would be it.”

He’s right. He’s so right. You’re being swallowed by emptiness. You both are.

You both stand there in silence for the next few minutes, Namjoon’s warmth radiating onto your back, his hands still on your shoulders. Occasionally, his breath would brush against the nape of your neck.

“You really get it, don’t you?” you ask quietly.

“I can’t say I understand what it’s like to lose a spouse, peach. But I understand grief in my own way. I know this sounds crazy, because I don’t believe in any higher power, but I think we were supposed to meet each other.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean... “ he starts, “I just feel better when I’m around you. I feel like a… better person. You don’t treat me like... “ he stops himself.

“Like what, Namjoon?”

“You don’t treat me like other people do. In a lot of ways. That’s... the easiest way to say it.”

You just nod, wanting to soak up these last few moments in this room with him. In this dark space, it’s not so scary to get close. You allow yourself to lean back into him, and he stiffens up for a moment before circling his arms around you.

“We’re gonna get through all of this together,” he says against your ear, “I promise. Together.”

#bts smut #rm smut #namjoon smut #namjoon x you #namjoon x reader #bts imagines #bts scenarios #namjoon imagine #namjoon fanfic #rm x you #rm x reader #xmint-conditionx #flanked

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obutsuwrites · 5 years ago

Text

work friends (miruko x reader, part 2)

summary: basically, miruko convinces reader to meet at the mall. possessive behavior and fingering ensue.

warnings: light dom/sub, thigh riding, face-sitting, vaginal fingering, mommy kink

part one

my ao3 for more shitposts

my ko-fi~!

word count: 3,729

A high-pitched chirp pierced the woman’s dreamless sleep. Setting such a deafening ringtone was supposed to be an advantage. Hot stories don’t stop once night falls, an unfortunate truth the woman had already learned. The woman rolled over; tired hands latching onto her phone.

「UNKNOWN NUMBER」 | 12:45 am

ur laugh was almost cute 🤪

Speak of the devil, and she will appear.

Air caught in her throat, somehow worse than a punch in the gut. Crimson eyes burned in the woman’s mind. Cherry pits she couldn’t ignore. She exhaled. The act was almost orgasmic as greedy lungs resumed function.

What… what do I say? Naturally, words came to the woman like magic. A gift she attributed to countless All Might articles. All Might. His name felt heavy somehow now. The woman sighed and typed a short response.

「XXX」 | 12:47 am

This is Miruko, right?

Three dots appeared as half lidded eyes struggled to maintain focus. What does this stupid bunny want this late? Her mind felt fuzzy, as if she hadn’t slept at all. Exhaustion was rooted in her bones; a slow ache.

「UNKNOWN NUMBER」 | 12:48 am

wats ur addy

Of course. Wait. Is… is she trying to hook up? A lump of disgust and anxiety swelled within her stomach. Casual sex wasn’t foreign to the woman. It was a concept she celebrated, but the image of hungry, crimson eyes plagued her. Carnivorous orbs that threatened to eat her alive.

「XXX」 | 12:49 am

You woke me up. It’s *midnight*. I can interview you tomorrow.

This was a bargaining chip. Perhaps ignorance would save her. Or maybe I’m committing career suicide, she mused. Rumors and whispers of reporters doing “favors” for interviews wasn’t unheard of. Morality wasn’t a concern for the perfect article.

The woman stared intently at her phone, eyes bleary and heavy. Dread mounted in her stomach as minutes passed. The woman rubbed her eyes. Maybe she’s asleep already. The thought brought her comfort as sleep dusted over her. Fatigue had won.

≛

A hearty exhale left the woman as throbbing muscles stretched against morning light. Another dreamless sleep with a side of awkward sleeping positions. Nothing out of the ordinary for her. She layed in bed, determined to absorb the early sunlight. Eventually, the woman rolled over and began to check emails. Ignorance was a blessing. The woman’s phone vibrated in her hand, the motion jarring and obnoxious. Right. The rabbit.

「UNKNOWN NUMBER」 - INCOMING CALL

Red eyes flashed through her mind. Soft hands trembled, knuckles white and taunt. Her finger hovered over the answer button. The notification was imposing; a beast that dwarfed her. An electrical wave crept through the woman’s spine. Anxiety now rooted in her stomach.

“H-hello?”

The pro hero snickered. “Finally ya answer, kit. Think you owe me your name for the wait.” She could almost feel Miruko’s hot breath through the phone. A sweltering gust that starved the room of oxygen.

The woman swallowed, saliva thick and tongue bulky. She muttered her name like a prayer.

“Cute name, kit. You never replied to my text. Still game?” Miruko’s voice cut into the word kit, as if it were an insult. Belittling.

She shifted in bed, words unable to become tangible. Prey caught in the powerful jaws of a predator. Shivers continued to assault the woman as she opened Miruko’s text.

「UNKNOWN NUMBER」 | 12:55 am

watever. meet me @ hiro mall.

Hiro Mall. Hiro Mall! She giggled; the sound unnatural and falsetto. A laugh she hated. Hiro Mall was thirty minutes away via car, but… I don’t own a car. No reliable transportation!

“I don’t live near Hiro Mall. S-sorry, can’t do it.”

Miruko’s thin lips pulled a mischievous grin. “Don’t apologize, it’s annoying like that laugh. I’ll pick you up,” the Rabbit Hero insisted, tone assertive and deep. Like rich chocolate.

A sour expression spread through the woman’s features, panic in her veins. An icy chill ran into her skull. The beginnings of a migraine.

“N-no it’s fine. You’re probably too far away.” She glanced around, desperate to escape the call. “We can arrange an interview later in the week.” A mall is too unprofessional anyway.

“C’mon. I gotta scoop for you, little kit.” Miruko sounded almost eager. A tight edge to her voice.

Another laugh left the reporter as she spoke, “Listen, M-Mi-Miruko… I appreciate this offer I really do. I just can’t today. I have -- I have other arrangements today.”

The Rabbit Hero released a hearty chuckle. Playing hard to get, huh?

“Can’t clear your schedule for an interview with the number seven pro hero Miruko?” She teased.

She feigned a smile. “I did agree, didn’t I? O-okay. I’ll text you my address.” There was no escape from the rabbit. Coils of anxiety refused to unravel within her gut. Painful, hot bundles that tore into her.

“Good kit.” A click followed the rabbit’s voice. The woman released a pent-up whine.

Are all pro heroes this rude?

≛

“I like your hat,” the woman mused, her sentence punctuated by a gentle chuckle. Miruko’s ears twitched at the sound.

Pro hero Miruko stood before her in casual attire; denim shorts, a plain t-shirt, and a brown baseball cap. It felt almost wrong to see the number seventh hero like this. Vulnerable. Human.

“That laugh was cute. Why don’t you laugh like that?” The ghost of a smirk rested against Miruko’s lips. Blush for me, kit.

A yell echoed through the mall before the woman could reply, “Hey! It’s Miruko! Miruko, can I get an autograph?!” Like magic, a young boy appeared in front of the couple, his smile was sunlight. Too bright to ignore. Pen and paper in tiny hands.

Crimson eyes observed the child with anticipation. She was not a rabbit, but a peacock. A peacock that revelved in attention.

“Sure!”

Miruko bent down and lightly grabbed the parchment from the boy; signing an indecipherable signature. The action seemed too gentle for the carnivorous woman. She’s creepy when she’s nice, the reporter thought as a shiver crawled down her skeleton. Like a dull ache in her bones.

The boy’s face broke out in a boyish grin; a smile too big for his face. Curious orbs drifted from the mythical hero and stuck to the unfamiliar figure beside the rabbit.

“Hey… are you a hero too? Are -- are you Miruko’s friend?” the boy prodded, his voice soaked in excitement and stars in his eyes.

The woman awkwardly shuffled and inspected her shoes. A pit began to widen in her stomach. The feeling left her empty and anxious. Starving. “Sorta. Work friends.”

“What’s it -- “

Before the child could ask, Miruko interjected. The woman’s tone was hard and rough, like sandpaper. “Sorry kid. We gotta bounce.”

Calloused hands reached for the reporter, finding purchase around her waist. A quiet yelp was exhaled from the woman; the sound sharp and sudden. Maroon rage bubbled under Miruko’s intense gaze as she ushered the woman away.

“Friends?” Miruko hissed, a dangerous glint in her eyes. The woman felt like injured prey, ready for the slaughter. “We’re not friends and you fucking know it.” Snowy ears twitched in annoyance. Little kit doesn’t know her place. The thought was venomous and ravenous; a lion starved and wild.

Her hand burns.

"Miruko… Are we not friends?" Curious eyes locked onto the rabbit. Begging for Miruko's attention. Was a pro hero a liar? Her brain felt branded by the question. Burnt. Ruined.

Large hands released the woman. Strong arms encased the woman; like a dragon hoarding gold. A wolf with teeth trained on a young doe. Poised, prepared. Miruko's heart threatened to leap from her chest, the sound like thunder. The woman couldn't ignore the roar against her.

The hero swallowed. "I want you to call me Usagi. No, Usagi. It'd sound cuter coming from you." Miruko grinned, lips too tight and teeth too sharp.

"Usagi, let me go. This is too intimate," the woman stated plainly. The situation was too familiar. Too similar to last night.

"You like my hat?"

Gross hot carrot breath.

Silver strands hung over muscular shoulders as a confident voice tickled the woman's ear.

"I'll try some on for you, because it's you!" Stars danced in Miruko's eyes. Crimson orbs now enveloped in joy.

≛

The couple sat on a bench, both parties tired from a day of giggles and coy smiles. Hidden signs of affection between the two. A genuine laugh from the woman made Miruko’s ears twitch in excitement. It was the same feeling she experienced before; the hero’s stomach was in knots. A hot, tangled mess that stung.

Miruko watched as the reporter gingerly checked her emails. She demanded a detour to rest and get her bearings. Miruko peered over her shoulder, unaware of the anxiety that began to bubble in the woman’s throat. Like mucus stuck in her nose. Thick and suffocating.

The woman turned to her, lips tugged into a curt grin. Too formal, too polite.

“I was thinking,” she began; still enamored by work, “you promised me an interview. We can grab lunch and I can pick your brain.” Finally, I’ll get my story. The woman vibrated with elation. It was a buzz that warmed her down into her bones. Her dreams were within reach; so many opportunities.

Miruko’s calloused palm slid across the woman’s thighs, creeping along as if to memorize the supple flesh. The rabbit wanted to bury herself between them. Pillowy thighs that touched deserved to be worshipped.

She caressed the woman’s thigh as she spoke, “Don’t live too far from here… You like your coffee black?” The hero’s casual attitude left a horrible taste in her mouth. A bitter, rotten taste. Miruko’s hand was scorching against her thigh, a juxtaposition to her clammy skin.

“No, tea. I know… I know of a cafe not far from here.” Words were impossible again. Intangible things. The woman’s sentence was punctuated with a shrill chuckle, another sign of internal concern. A part of her dreaded being alone -- in a private space -- with the hero. Famished eyes still regarded her as prey. Oval cherries.

“Got tea, too. I think you’re just scared. I don’t bite!” Much, Miruko thought, playful lips stretched into a lop-sided grin. She was desperate to taste the woman, to spread her apart and worship. Miruko kneaded the doughly flesh underneath her, as she waited for a response.

Finally, the woman looked away; too ashamed to face the rabbit.

“O-okay.”

≛

Miruko’s apartment was unexpected. It was plain -- almost unbelievable to imagine a hero living here -- much less the number seventh hero. The only noteworthy addition were flowers, as if the room had exploded in a bomb of flora and perfume. They looked out of place with morning dew still fresh on vibrant petals. Was she anticipating this? Hints of flowers assaulted the woman’s nose; the smell was nauseating.

“I redecorated!” Miruko blurted out, a move uncharacteristic for the headstrong woman. She felt exposed like this. The object of her desires was so close -- and yet the rabbit had to be vulnerable. It wasn’t uncommon for Miruko to bring a woman home, but a sea of flowers wasn’t her normal. She was inexperienced in... this. The hero’s heart began to tremble again, the sound booming, leaving her breathless.

The woman only nodded, as if aware of the lie. “Flowers are pretty, aren’t they? I suppose we can start with the first question; Miruko… you don’t have a scoop for me, d-do you?” Her voice faltered as the woman lost her conviction. Plush lips quivered, afraid of the answer.

Her lips look so soft. Without thinking, a tanned finger brushed against the woman’s lips. Miruko quickly withdrew her hand. A muted pink dusted her cheeks, like a child caught. The hero’s snowy ears burned with embarrassment.

“Do it again.”

“What?” Miruko asked, hungry eyes wide. Saliva pooled in her mouth. A predator drooling over wounded prey.

“D-do it a-again.” The woman’s tone was pleading, in need of attention.

My attention, Miruko thought as she swiped a thumb across delicate lips. The flesh reminded the rabbit of her thighs. A familiar heat began to pool in the bottom of her stomach. The rabbit inched closer; the woman’s chin cradled in her palm, thumb still caressing her lips like ritual. Touching the woman was electric. A shock that left Miruko in a daze of want.

Hot breath tickled the woman’s nose as Miruko spoke, “I’m going to kiss you.” Chapped lips collided against the woman. The kiss was forceful and hungry. A lion finally ravishing a meal. Miruko continued to lean into her, as if trying to establish dominance. Gentle hands rested against the rabbit’s toned chest. Miruko tasted like carrots and mint. An obvious attempt to hide the vegetable. The weight of Miruko caused the woman to stumble, and the pair landed awkwardly on the carpeted floor. Miruko landed on top of the woman, hard muscles pressed against delicate flesh.

“Sorry, kit. Guess I got a little too excited. Are you okay?” Miruko’s tone was laced with worry. The genuine concern was new to the woman. Humanizing. Patches of red decorated the woman’s cheeks and her heart pounded against her ribcage like a drum. The sound was deafening.

Red orbs watched with interest and long strands of silver hair settled across small shoulders. Her hair tickled. The woman tried to stifle a chuckle and nodded, even now her soft frame was dwarfed by the hero.

Abruptly, Miruko kissed her again, grinding wide hips into the woman. The rabbit’s hands transversed the woman’s body, starving for her touch. Calloused palms cupped large breasts and massaged. Miruko’s touch wasn’t gentle like a lover’s, but rough and greedy. An involuntary moan slipped from the woman, who was now unable to keep composure. The hero took advantage; seeing the moment of weakness as an opportunity, and jammed a wet tongue into her mouth. Miruko’s hot tongue explored the damp chasm. She wanted to commit every part of the woman to memory.

The rabbit pulled away, the act only to allow her companion fresh air. Lungs gasped for air. Hungry and starved. Before she could force in another lungful, Miruko pressed further against her, and roughly grabbed tiny wrists. The woman was puzzled by the action until she felt the warm presence of Miruko’s finger hooked around her waistband. Miruko licked her lips in anticipation as drool threatened to leak out.

Crimson orbs locked onto the woman, as if to ask permission.

“Please,” she begged. Her voice was small and quiet. Too ashamed to admit the burning ache that settled into her core. The need for Miruko hurt. The woman was racked with impatience. She wanted needed the hero’s greedy fingers in between her.

A thunderous laugh vibrated from Miruko as she discarded the woman's undergarments. “You’re so cute. Submissive and begging for Miruko the hero.” The rabbit shoved a thick finger in between large thighs -- thighs Miruko wanted to dig into. Miruko’s finger curled inside the woman’s craving, wet core. Vicious teeth were bared in a smirk; she could just eat the woman. Devore her whole. On instinct, Miruko’s mouth latched onto the woman’s neck. Her pulse was rapid against the hero’s tongue as Miruko began to suck upon the supple flesh. Erotic sounds of pleasure escaped the woman. Her face was flustered and on fire, a sweltering heat that ravaged her.

Determined fingers pumped into the woman’s slickness. She lifted her hips into Miruko, franic for the hero. Her stomach twisted as shivers shot through her spine.

“Tell Mirko the hero how needy you are. Beg for me.”

"U-Usagi --"

"Miruko," the hero corrected, her sentence punctuated by a second finger. The sudden intruder caused the woman to gasp. Such a cute noise! Miruko curled the second finger and pumped both digits in rhythm. The woman continued to lift her hips, greedy for Miruko's touch.

A low whimper drifted from the woman, "Mi-Miruko, please, please, please … Kiss me. Claim me." She shrunk under the rabbit's gaze. The heat across her cheeks felt permanent. The woman quickly turned away, too embarrassed to allow Miruko a peek.

Miruko grabbed her hips and shoved the soaking woman against her. A small puddle began to pool against the rabbit's shorts. The woman -- too enthralled by Miruko's fingers -- was blissfully unaware of her mess. Delicate wrists were released as sturdy hands palmed the wet spot.

"Look at what you did, kit," Miruko said, placing the woman's hand against the puddle. Gentle orbs locked onto the mess; her cheeks now a vibrant red. Like poppies on her cheeks. She quickly withdrew her hand; as if the puddle was fire.

The woman's voice was muffled and hushed. "I’m s-sorry…” she mumbled, her face hidden by trembling hands. Embarrassment was segmented back into her reality; the woman left too conscious of Miruko’s gaze. It was uncommon for strangers to see the woman so… exposed. Even past lovers weren’t afforded the treat.

“You’re just leaking for me. So fucking wet for Miruko.” She wiped a finger across the mess and used another hand to free the woman’s sight. “I want you to watch.” Miruko’s sentence was entwined with lust. An insatiable need. The rabbit brought her juice stained finger to her mouth and sucked, cannibalistic red eyes locked on the woman. Her pink tongue swirled around the digit. A line of saliva connected the rabbit’s finger as she slowly dragged the apendenge from her mouth. After teasing the woman, Miruko shoved the spit covered digit into the woman. Her cunt now ached with three thick fingers. It felt like too much; her core stretched around Miruko.

The hero didn’t continue to finger fuck the woman. Like a predator playing with injured prey. Enjoying her meal.

Pleading eyes bore into Miruko as she pulled her soaked fingers from the woman. Lips held a dirty smirk. “Rub your clit against my thighs, mommy wants to feel your cunt.” The woman winced at the word. It sounded so dirty, so inappropriate… and yet she shivered at the hero’s words. Desperate for relief, desperate for stimulation; the woman began to rub her slickness against the hero’s exposed thigh. Her face almost sizzled with a crimson blush. She felt the heat up to her ears. Molten lava.

The woman was unable to face Miruko’s starving eyes. Cherries that wanted to rip and tear into her. Muffled sobs racked the woman; the sensations of embarrassment and pleasure blended together in a blur of pathetic arousal. Her body betrayed her as she grinded harder into Miruko’s thigh, the stimulation proving not enough for her swollen clit. The woman could feel the hot blood that pulsed through her core.

“Mi-Miruko, f-fuck me,” she begged.

“Look at you, kit, using such dirty words. You call this begging? This is pathetic. Tell Miruko how much of a slut you are.” Her tone was aggressive, as if the woman’s pathetic nature was an offense.

She swallowed, her mouth devoid of spit as she sobbed, “Please, Miruko! I’m such a slut; I need your fingers! Please, please, please.” The woman’s sentence was chanted, almost like a mantra. A perverted prayer.

Sharp teeth clashed against the woman’s ear. “Sit on my face. Wanna fuckin’ drown in you.” Miruko’s voice was no higher than a whisper. Like a secret between friends. Without hesitation, the woman nodded and stood up as Miruko positioned herself between pillowy thighs. The rabbit’s mouth salivated in anticipation. I’m going to fucking devour you.

The woman slowly lowered herself onto the hero, afraid of injuring her. She wasn’t small and fit like Miruko. She was big and jiggly. Like jello. A body Miruko wanted to grab fistfulls of as she fucked her into a mattress; letting the woman know how beautiful she was. Her aching, wet cunt finally made contact with Miruko’s pink tongue. Sandwiched between gigantic thighs, Miruko began to run her tongue down the woman’s folds. The woman released a lustful moan. She clamped a hand to her shy mouth as Miruko’s tongue slipped into her. She yelped at the sudden action. Miruko snickered underneath the woman, her sounds were like calls from heaven. Honey that coated her ears in a thick sweetness.

She worked at the woman’s mound, only encouraged by her lewd sounds. The woman could no longer muffle her moans; her body stuck in a sea of shivers. Her tongue -- her tongue felt so fucking good. Wide hips grinded into Miruko, hungry to have her tongue deeper within. Two thick fingers plunged into her hole, replacing Miruko’s tongue. The rabbit’s digits slapped into the woman’s drenched thighs. Her tongue wandered up to a swollen, red clit. She took the bud into her mouth and swirled the blood filled nub.

“F-fuck…” A long moan punctuated her sentence as Miruko began to suck on her clit; her fingers scissoring within her, stretching her. The woman’s greedy walls contracted around Miruko. The woman’s large chest heaved as breathing seemed impossible. Hot, short breaths mixed with wails of ecstasy. Miruko continued to suck on the woman’s clit, treating her puffy nub like a treat. Her tanned face now slick with the woman’s juices. The room was filled with the sloppy sounds of the woman’s cunt and her moans. Miruko’s ears couldn’t help but rapidly twitch, the rabbit almost too excited.

“Stop… stop, I’ll cum!” The woman whined, her voice lecherous and heavy. Like a fog. Her confirmation caused Miruko’s fingers to ramp up in speed, fingers now curled inside. An audible pop sounded as Miruko released the woman’s puffy nub. The rabbit’s sharp teeth grazed the sensitive flesh. She alternated between sucking and nibbling the woman’s clit. The woman felt an uncomfortable tremble crawl through her stomach, settling at the bottom. Her body begged for release.

A string of profanities erupted from the woman as she came, juices squirting down Miruko’s chin. The hero licked her lips, still hungry. With her moment of bliss gone, and her body weak, the woman gingerly stood up. Her ears and face were a bright pink; like cotton candy.

Miruko gazed at the woman, a lop-sided smirk ghosting her face. “You got me drenched in your pussy. C’here and clean it up, kit.”

#rumi usagiyama #Usagiyama Rumi x reader #smut #bnha #miruko x reader #wlw #chubby reader

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