#like i know he's partially pushing the blame onto everyone else

[red-hibiscus]

Why is he of all people the voice of reason here

[yacinthemorning]

Tailored to Your Liking

Chapter 8

[First] [prev]

Summary: Tumble Town attracts all sorts of misfits looking for a fresh start on the frontier, but everyone still needs clothes. Be it extra limbs or high temperatures, Jimmy caters to every hybrid's needs.

Ships: Jimmy/Tango (slow burn romantic), Grian/Mumbo/Scar (romantic), Joel/Lizzie (romantic)

Warnings: Implied traumatic events, awkward flirting

The air was thick with smog, arid landscape rushing past at incredible speeds, and the tracks roared below. Tango hung on for dear life as he leaned over the edge to see in front of the train. A whistle went off. He nearly jumped up to his death. The engineer gave him a wide grin, eyes shining through his thick glasses while the snakes that had braided themselves atop his head glared at him.

“You ought to be more careful, sweetface.” He teased. “She doesn’t like little creatures hanging off her sides. We have a brush for that!”

Tango rolled his eyes. “Who’s the one that basically built her, Keralis? It’s fine. I just need to…”

“Get a good view?”

Everything went dark, engulfed in a tunnel among the uneven terrain. It whipped by in seconds and Tango was nearly thrown by the flood of light as it opened onto the sight brightly striped mesa walls and golden shrubs. At the heart of it sat a town, not nearly as little as it was when Tango last saw it. Even still, the water tower still stood heads and tails above everything else, even the no-longer-so-new train station rapidly coming into view.

Tango took a deep breath, willing his heart to stop pounding so heavily. Keralis eyed him with a knowing look. “Almost home?” He asked with wide smile.

The train began to slow beneath them, every mechanism Tango had carefully drawn out dancing as it should. Tango closed his eyes, taking another deep breath. “I hope so...”

There was a small crowd at the station, some passengers waiting to get on, some companions looking for family and friends. XB coordinated the transfer seamlessly, only a small twitch in his fins indicating his impatience to return to the cover of the train. Tango couldn’t blame him. Tumble Town may be run by a fellow merfolk but it wasn’t exactly ideal with its dusty breeze and beating sun. Tango grabbed his bags and slipped off the engine, circumventing the crowd. Only a few faces among them were familiar, even fewer glancing at him with recognition. There was only one person among them Tango sought out, though.

“Tango!”

His head twisted, tail on end, before he broke out into a huge grin. He dropped his bags and open his arms wide just in time as blond curls and curly horns engulfed his vision. Zedaph managed to lift him full body off the platform. “You’re here!” He shrieked excitedly. “You’re really back!”

“I’m here!” He agreed, hugging his old friend.

Once he was back on solid ground Zed stepped away looked him over. “Look at you, you’ve barely changed these past three years! Same hair, same clothes, same ugly mug-”

“Hey!” He laughed.

Zed ignored his protests, instead patting his belly, “Somehow even skinnier than before, too! Were you always this skin and bones? I’ll have to tell Impulse and Skizz to add some lard to the stew, fatten you back up!”

He huffed, pushing his friend away. “I’m not a cow going for slaughter.”

“You might as well be.”

And that was likely more true than Tango hoped. So, he changed the subject, “How’ve you been? How’s the town?”

It wasn’t the subtlest, clear from the look Zed gave him, but the ramling played along anyways. They picked up Tango’s bags and began to walk. “Fine, fine. It’s so much busier than it ever used to be with the rail passing through. Fwhip is pleased, Doc is not. I’m partial to agreeing with Doc on the matter, they scare away all the critters!”

“You sure it’s them scaring them?” Tango joked, which got him a shove.

“I am, thank you very much!”

Though the town had grown in size it still felt the same. Perhaps that was because, in the grand scheme of town construction, two years wasn’t especially long. It was sill little old Tumble Town. Barely any two story buildings except main street where all the business were, and Lizzie’s manor at the end of it. More hybrids ran around than Tango had ever seen even in the big cities, and along with them a bit of an eclectic construction style to accommodate them. The roads were still dirt and the only light posts were around the mayoral office.

It had changed, but it still made his heart warm.

They reached Impulse’s bar soon enough, and the regulars were a much more familiar crowd to Tango. Skizz lifted his mug to him with a huge grin, “Hey buddy, welcome back!” Which caught the attention of the rest of the patrons, who followed suit. Among them was Scar, who raised his cane instead.

“Tango, my big city man!”

“Hardly.” Tango sat down between the two, with Impulse already in front of him with a plate of food and comforting smile. “I’m glad to be out of there for a while. City folk are the most unfriendly people I’ve ever met no matter where I go.”

“Well, it’s hard to compete when you’ve experienced Tumble Town!” Said Scar, which got a round of mild cheers from the bar goers around them. “Happiest place on earth, don’t you know?”

Tango grinned, “You got me there.” Then he began to dig into his food.

Mild chatter echoed around him, asking about his work or telling him about some ridiculous thing that happened. It was almost perfect. A familiar bar, good friends and food and drink, laughter and teasing abound. It was warm and comforting and every good thing one could want. It was truly…

Well, it was almost.

“So,” Impulse started, caution in his voice that immediate sobered the whole group. “When are you gonna…?”

“That’s the question, ain’t it?” Tango groaned, leaning back to look at the ceiling rather than face his friends’ wary looks. His claws wrapped around his necklace, the ends of the feathers slightly frayed from playing with it too much. It’d frequently been his only comfort on the most stressful and soul crushing days of work.

“You just gotta go, buddy.” A large hand patted him on the back.

He knew that, of course, but it didn’t make it any less intimidating. He glanced back over his friends, “Y’mind if I leave my bags here? Just in case.”

“You always got a place here.” Impulse assured, then made a shooing motion. “Now get going before it gets dark.”

Tango didn’t need to be told twice. If he stopped to wait for it he’d simply never go. He saluted goodbye to his friends and made his way down Main Street. It was quieter now, leaving an all too familiar building well within view the whole walk. A few hanging plants had been placed and there was a new sign in the window, but like everything else it had remained mostly the same.

He took a deep breath and went in.

The bell on the door jingled the same jingle it had the first time Tango was there. Fabrics were strewn about the workshop, a sign of mid-project Tango had come to learn. One long piece of cotton was left hanging from the sewing machine, a new model he’d seen often in the city. The one Tango had made was pushed against the wall behind it between button drawers. A little brass bird sat atop it.

Soft yellow feathers shook slightly in acknowledgement of the bell, shielding the man hunched over a pattern from view. “Yes, give me just a minute!”

“Guess one more couldn’t hurt.”

Jimmy stiffened, feathers raised on end. There was a moment, then his head shot up, wide eyes locking on Tango, who shrunk down between his his shoulders with an awkward smile. Like everything else Jimmy was left of familiar, his hair longer, a new scar on his jaw, a slight bit of stubble left unclear whether it was intentional or just between shaves, and an unbuttoned blue vest Tango had never seen before. But it was still the same warm brown eyes and sharp nose, same well-preened buttery yellow feathers and copious freckles.

If he could sweat he imagined he would be as he waited for any further reaction from the shocked avian.

His brow knit, nose scrunching up as he spun around fully. “Are you kidding me?” He snapped, making Tango jump and his tail curl around his leg. The avian marched up to him, “You can’t even send a letter to tell me you’re coming? Let me just look like this for when you arrive?” His wings jerked with his hands in emphasis to his appearance.

Tango wasn’t given time to reply, yanked forward into a bone-crushing hug. The sparks in his hair immediately settled along with the feathers in Jimmy’s wings. Jimmy’s nose burrowed into the crook of Tango’s neck. He smiled, relaxing completely into the hug and weaving his own arms just under Jimmy’s wings. “Look like what? Handsome? Perfect?” He teased.

“Oh, shush!” The avian’s voice warbled, tightening his hold. Tango thought he might let go then, but he remained, and Tango let him. What simultaneously felt like an eternity and only a second passed in comfortable silence. Only the smallest chirps interrupted. His eyes fell closed, and the slightest rumble emanated from his chest.

Finally, Jimmy very reluctantly pulled back. His breath was shaky as he refused to completely detach from the blazeborn. Red eyes scanned his face before they darted down to the gold chain around his neck. He pulled a face that made Tango worried he’d start crying again then and there. They cast downwards instead. “How… How long will you be here?”

Tango’s tail drooped slightly, smile stretched. “If things go well? At least a year.”

“What?” Jimmy’s gaze shot back up, eyes wide and shocked. And hopeful.

“They wanna connect the rail up with the west coast.” He started to explain, nodding his head in what he hoped was the right direction. “Aaand it just so happens that some plans made by a very smart and handsome fella put Tumble Town in a pretty central location for some infrastructurizing. More or less.”

“Oh, Tango!” His voice turned into a twitter as his hands cupped the man’s face.

“And what sort of engineer would I be if I didn’t come look after my own project?”

He barely got the words out before he was lifted off the ground and spun around to the tune of a very happy avian. “You ridiculous mad man!” Jimmy laughed. “You impress a couple rail-men and you think you can just do whatever you want?”

“I’m making it happen, ain’t I?” He pointed out, snickering along as well at his own audacity. Things Tango from a few years ago would never dare try. That was before he’d been given the opportunity of a lifetime thanks to his friends, and wouldn’t dare to let himself squander it. He hadn’t spent the last three years working overtime to worm his way into the heart of the Luxo Company for nothing, even if those years felt twice as long as the decade of work before it. For more reasons than just work.

“Oh, do they treat you well, then?” Jimmy asked, worry dampening his excitement.

Tango laughed, “Not in the slightest! But I can handle it.” He quickly added when he saw Jimmy’s wings droop.

“You shouldn’t have to.” Jimmy huffed. “Where’s their main office? And my pen. I have a letter to write.”

“Nooo, you do not.” Tango shushed him, putting his hand over the taller’s mouth when he tried to protest, receiving an indignant look. “C’mon. I don’t wanna think about work anymore today. I got a very pretty man in my arms that I wanna look at a little longer.”

It took a pleading look and a few combs through his hair, but Jimmy conceded. They migrated over to Jimmy’s desk, where they’d spent so many days before. Tango’s gaze couldn’t help wandering back towards his sewing machine. Jimmy shifted, dragging it closer. “Something inside broke I think. Katherine was kind enough to buy me a replacement in the meantime, but it’s not as nice. I was hoping you would…”

“I’ll take a look.” He immediately agreed, tilting it back to look at the needle. “I was wondering also, if you could fix my robes? I snagged the sleeve a while ago and-”

“Of course.” Jimmy chirped, expression relaxing. “Always.”

There was another pause, shorter this time as Tango reached for Jimmy’s hand. “I’m home.” He said, still shaky with nerves that refused to go away. Not until Jimmy gave him the warmest smile Tango’s even seen and pulled their hands close to his chest.

“Welcome home.”

[swallowtail-ageha]

Hey what about

2. A canon or headcanon hill I will die on

16. Deepest darkest secret they won’t even admit to themselves (i know it’s gonna be oblivious maybe)

49. Favorite toy as a child

For Maria, Gehrman and Laurence

Ask from this post

Maria

2- Ok, i might have complained about it with infinity but she is not a good person!!! She is not heroic!!! And thats what makes her compelling!

Reducing her to simply heroic lady who is sad (and for what exactly since people just tend to remove her share of blame in both the hamlet and the research hall 🤔🤔) is a huge disservice to her character (albeit this is an opinion i see more on reddit and barely see on tumblr anymore since people who think like that are either blocked by me or have me blocked lol)

16- That part of her actually enjoyed taking part in bloodshed! I assume she was very brutal, both as a knight and as an hunter, but didnt think much of it or tried to rationalize it until. Well. Yknow.

49- Waaah i actually think that she was super into those porcellain dolls. She was a very lonely and isolated kid, and she projected that need of company and warmth onto them. This is also a thing that makes the plain doll situation of her even more ironic

Gehrman

2- He didnt want to fuck the doll guys. Guys i swear it isnt that funny of a joke guys. Guys the doll doesnt bleed cum please guys learn to make jokes that dont involve sex guys

16- Ok actually his feelings for maria because i think he felt both paternal instincts towards her but also he wanted to fuck her and like knew it was wrong because it was his several years younger pupil and never actually acted upon it and genuinely respected her as a person but also. It Was There and him dressing the Doll in childlike clothes were also partially a way to distance himself from those feelings and lean more on the paternal aspect of the thing

49- i actually think he was too poor to have any real toys growing up so he'd make up for it by using quite literally anything as a toy with the power of ~imagination

Laurence

2- Hmmm... that he did found the healing church and was alive to rule it. There is a theory that is taking foothold that the church started after his death but. Eh. Him being the leader makes it a story 10 times more compelling (and also him being dead before the start of the church would make a giant timeline headache regarding the research hall)

16- Heheheh that he knows he is miserable and has been slowly pushing away from himself everyone else, and that anyone who personally knew him long enough doesn't really like him as a person anymore

49- if i have to be honest i have no fucking idea lmfao. Always struck me more as that weird victorian child who spoke in riddles and foresaw his death instead of playing

[crossbowking]

More Than Anything (Part 1)

Summary: (Set mid-season 6) The reader's feelings towards the archer evolve, but a supply run that goes south threatens to destroy it all.

Request: "I'd love to see something w protective Daryl and some angst, maybe set at the start of their time in Alexandria w an established relationship?" - @pulplorrd

A/N: Thank you all for the love regarding "Honey & Whiskey" - I loved writing that story, but I'm also super happy to finally be able to move onto something else! I very rarely write established Daryl x Reader stories, so this one was super fun to do!

This is part 1/2.

Happy reading!

xx Jess

Masterlist

Tip Jar

Sunlight trickled in through the open window, a gentle breeze rousing you from an otherwise undisturbed sleep.

Cracking an eye open, you squinted against the sun rays streaming over your features as a soft sigh escaped past your lips. Burying your face into your pillow, you extended an arm out across the mattress, your brow furrowing when you felt an empty space beside you. Pushing up onto your elbow, you rubbed your eye with the heel of your palm before glancing over at the vacant spot.

“D?” you murmured softly, voice still thick with sleep. You cleared your throat, twisting onto your side as you surveyed the rest of the bedroom. “Daryl?” you called out once more, feeling a familiar pinprick of worry when no response followed.

You flipped onto your back with a huff, taking a moment to stretch out your tired muscles before untangling yourself from the sheets and climbing out of bed. Fighting back a yawn, you padded across the floor and out into the hallway, listening for movement. When you heard a sudden clatter, followed by a rasped cuss, the corner of your mouth quirked up.

You made your way towards the noise, feeling some of the tightness in your chest fade with each step you drew near.

The end of the hallway led to a small, yet quaint, kitchen. When you reached the entryway, you faltered, observing the scene before you — Daryl was crouched down, one hand wielding a frying pan, the other scooping up a small mound of partially cooked eggs from off the floor and tossing them back into the skillet.

You stifled back the laugh building up inside you. “Hi,” you remarked, making your arrival known.

The archer’s gaze snapped up to meet yours, a flash of what looked like embarrassment flitting over his features before he ducked his head back down, effectively concealing his face with his hair. “Mornin’,” he rumbled, quickly wiping up the rest of the egg residue with the sleeve of his shirt.

A small smile pulled at your lips as you crossed your arms over your chest and leaned against the doorway. “Whatcha doin’?” you singsonged playfully, eyebrows raised.

Daryl’s brow furrowed as he stood, staring down defeatedly at the frying pan in his grip. “Cookin’,” he finally sighed, shrugging a shoulder up.

“I see that,” you laughed softly, crossing the length of the kitchen as the archer placed the skillet back onto the stovetop. “Smells good,” you remarked, coming to stand at his side.

“Dropped the —” Daryl spat out another curse as he attempted to scrape the burnt egg bits off the bottom of the pan. “— the damn — the damn thing,” he growled exasperatedly, waving at the pan with the spatula he held.

“It’s okay,” you reassured. “No one expects you to be Gordon Ramsey,” you teased, thoroughly amused.

But the reference seemed to go right over Daryl’s head as he turned to give you a confused look.

Your brow furrowed. “You know…Gordon Ramsey,” you reiterated pointedly.

“Huh?” the archer grunted, clearly at a loss.

“Oh, come on, you don’t — you’ve never heard of Gordon Ramsey?” you asked incredulously. “You know, Gordon Ramsey! The mean British chef!”

Daryl scrunched his nose up before shaking his head. “Ain’t never heard a’ that,” he rumbled, focusing back on the frying pan.

“Wow,” you murmured in disbelief. “That is so…so devastating,” you sighed, mockingly dramatic.

The archer snorted a laugh, the sound eliciting a rush of warmth through you. “Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, gently nudging you with his elbow.

You grinned cheekily, leaning over and resting your head against the curve of Daryl’s shoulder. He froze for a moment, old habits reappearing briefly before he relaxed beneath you and continued stirring the eggs.

An overwhelming sense of calm rushed over you, a feeling only the archer ever seemed to evoke. You closed your eyes, breathing in the comfort he so effortlessly exuded — and it wasn’t in anything he said or anything he did, it was just purely and wholeheartedly who he was. He was grounded, he was stable, he was here.

You’d missed this — you’d missed him.

The past month hadn’t been the easiest — Alexandria was still recovering from the destruction the dead had caused — but things were beginning to look up. The hundreds of slain walkers had finally been removed from within the community, Carl was recovering from his gunshot wound, and the wall that’d been destroyed was almost entirely rebuilt. There was a sense of hope, of purpose, in the air — your people had stared death in the face and prevailed.

But supplies were beginning to wear thin.

Most were hesitant to venture outside the walls, to leave the sanctuary that was Alexandria, and honestly, you didn’t blame them for that — especially after the attack brought on by the Wolves. You’d seen what other horrors existed outside those walls — hell, you’d lived through it. There was a big, bad, scary world just behind the scraps of steel and metal welded together surrounding the community — there was the dead, the undead, and the living.

The latter was most terrifying.

Still, there were mouths to feed, injuries to tend to, and somebody would have to leave eventually. It wasn’t much of a surprise when Daryl volunteered himself — that was just the kind of man he was. Aaron had decided to join him, determined to continue his search for any other lost souls seeking asylum.

But the supply run had taken longer than expected.

They’d only planned to be gone for three days — but after the fourth, fifth, sixth day that rolled by without any sign of return, you were nearly beside yourself with worry. It wasn’t that you thought they couldn’t handle themselves out there, you just wanted them home — you wanted him home. The tightness in your chest expanded with each day that passed, unease gnawing at your insides, fear settling like an anchor in the pit of your stomach.

Then just yesterday — day seven — right before sunset, Daryl and Aaron had come marching through the front gate. Apparently, their intended route had been cut off by a horde, which led to some rerouting, which resulted in an empty gas tank, which forced them to abandon their car, which meant walking the near-fifty miles back home.

“I was so worried,” you suddenly murmured, drawing yourself back to the present as you lifted your head off Daryl’s shoulder and glanced up at him.

The archer’s eyes flashed towards you for just a brief second before focusing downward, turning off the stovetop, and pulling the frying pan off the heat. “I came back,” he finally rasped after a long pause.

“Yeah,” you sounded, nodding your head absently, his words not making you feel all that better.

Daryl caught your gaze once more before he reached out and placed his hand against the side of your neck, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “C’mon, let’s eat,” he rumbled, pulling away a moment later.

You made a soft noise in protest, savoring the rare show of affection and earning an amused eye roll from the archer as he turned away — though you noticed the tips of his ears redden in the slightest.

When you’d first arrived at Alexandria, Deanna had provided two houses to be split amongst your entire group. As time went on and the safe haven had proven to be just that, slowly but surely, everyone began branching out and finding their own homes to settle into. Part of you had reservations about moving into one of the empty brownstone apartments, just you and Daryl, but things had been going well between you — really well, actually.

You settled atop one of the stools lining the small island in the middle of the kitchen, resting your elbows against the smooth marble countertop as you watched Daryl move about. He grabbed a plate from the cupboard, along with a fork from the utensil drawer before swinging around and sliding the items towards you. It was almost eerie how natural things felt in that moment — like a glimpse of what life might’ve looked like had the world not ended and the dead had stayed dead.

The archer grabbed the frying pan, turning towards you once more before using the spatula to dish out a hearty helping of eggs onto your plate. A smile tugged at the corner of your lips at the look of intense concentration masking his features — as though diffusing a bomb and not simply serving breakfast.

Daryl glanced up at you from beneath his hair, doing a quick double-take. “What?” he grunted defensively, appearing increasingly self-conscious all of the sudden.

“Nothing,” you quickly shook your head, letting out a soft laugh and picking up the utensil. “Thank you,” you grinned, gathering up a forkful of eggs.

“Mhm,” he grumbled in response, drumming his fingers against the counter as he carefully watched for your reaction, his nervousness evident — and incredibly endearing.

You took a big bite, humming a noise of satisfaction soon after. “Mmm,” you sounded around the mouthful of food before swallowing. “Chef Dixon,” you remarked cheekily.

Daryl scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Yeah right,” he rasped sarcastically, though you watched him visibly relax. He remained standing opposite of you, opting out from using a plate and eating the remaining eggs straight from the frying pan instead, scooping up a handful with his fingertips and shoveling them into his mouth.

A comfortable silence settled over the kitchen as the pair of you continued eating, sneaking glances at one another while the other wasn’t looking. You couldn’t help yourself — he was just so damn captivating. Even standing before you, devouring a panful of eggs with his bare hands like some kind of wild animal, you couldn’t help but feel your stomach flip-flop.

You’d never felt this way about anyone in your entire life — even before the end. But now…well, now you’d live this terrifying life a thousand times over if it meant finding him.

The sudden realization of what exactly you were feeling hit you hard, catching you off guard and causing you to choke on the mouthful of eggs you were chewing. Daryl’s head snapped up as you abruptly coughed, covering your mouth as your eyes began to water.

The archer was at your side a moment later. “Hey, ya alright?” he rumbled, gently patting his hand against your back.

You quickly nodded, attempting to wave him off as your cheeks tinged with embarrassment. “Yeah — yeah, no, I’m —” you coughed once more, the eggs finally dislodging from your throat. “I’m — I’m good,” you managed weakly, wiping at your eyes. “Jesus,” you wheezed as a sheepish laugh slipped past your lips, your coughs finally dying down.

“Ya sure?” Daryl pressed as he pulled his hand away from your back and rested it on top of your shoulder instead.

“No, no, yeah, no, I’m fine,” you quickly brushed him off. “Just went down the wrong pipe,” you lied, hoping your excuse sounded convincing enough as the feeling of vulnerability threatened to consume you.

If the archer was suspicious, he kept his expression neutral. He nodded once before softly squeezing your shoulder and pulling away — though he lingered nearby instead of moving back to where he’d originally stood.

“Anyways,” you pushed forward, clearing your throat, desperately wanting to ignore the revelation you’d had. “We, uh — we almost finished rebuilding the wall while you guys were gone. Rick’s got a crew working on dismantling the old one, too.”

Daryl watched your expression for a second longer than necessary, like he knew something was up but wasn’t exactly sure what. But after a moment, he relented. “Saw it on the way in las’ night,” he murmured, leaning down and resting his forearms against the edge of the counter. “Looks pretty solid.”

You nodded, huffing a breath. “Abraham’s leading the team — I’m pretty sure you couldn’t drive a tank through that wall.”

The archer scoffed. “Damn right,” he rasped before lowering his gaze, wringing his hands together atop the counter.

You studied his demeanor, feeling a pinprick of unease. “What is it?”

Daryl glanced up, flicking his hair away from his eyes with a quick jerk of the head. “M’, uh — m’ headin’ out again today,” he finally confessed, standing up straight.

You tried to keep your expression indifferent despite your stomach dropping. “Oh,” you voiced dishearteningly. “But — but you just got back,” you pointed out softly, hoping you didn’t sound as disappointed as you felt.

“I know,” he said, staring down at the counter, avoiding your gaze. “Jus’ a day trip, is all — Tara heard ‘bout a motel strip, maybe fifteen miles from here. Shouldn’t take more than a couple a’ hours. We’ll be in an’ out.”

You nodded slowly, pushing around the leftover eggs on your plate with your fork. “Alright,” you straightened up on your stool. “Well, I’ll come —”

Daryl started shaking his head before you could even finish your sentence, his eyes meeting yours. “Y/N —”

“Come on, Daryl,” you interjected, already figuring his response, swiveling in your seat to face him head-on. “I’m losing my mind here, okay? I’ve gotta get back out there and — and actually do something for this place.”

“Ya do enough already,” he shot back vehemently.

You fought back the urge to roll your eyes as you slid off the stool. “And besides, we’ll cover more ground faster if there’s three of us versus two,” you continued brusquely, gathering all the stray dishes on the counter.

“That ain’t the damn point,” Daryl growled, following you towards the kitchen sink.

“Yeah, and it's also not your decision," you finally snapped.

When the archer didn’t respond, stiffening beside you instead, a wave of guilt washed over you.

Exhaling a heavy breath, you gently set the dishes down in the sink before turning to face him. “Look, I get it,” you murmured softly. “I get it, D. But I can’t just hide out here for the rest of my life,” you explained. “Especially when you’re the one risking yours.”

Some of the fire in Daryl’s gaze diminished, replaced with a heaviness that wasn’t there before as his shoulders drooped.

You felt something tug at your heart as you stepped forward, reaching towards him and brushing away the hair that fell over his face. “I just got you back,” you whispered. “And I’m not ready to let go of that yet.”

When another long moment passed without a response, you were almost certain Daryl was going to object once more — but then, despite the tension in his features, his eyes softened.

“Alright,” he finally rumbled, the word seemingly caught in his throat — as though it physically pained him to say it.

A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. “Alright,” you reiterated with a resolute nod.

Daryl sighed, shaking his head as he nudged you forward. “Well, go on an’ get some shit together before I change my mind,” he grunted.

You quickly straightened, imitating a soldier’s stance. “Yes, Chef,” you saluted the archer, breaking the tension.

Daryl narrowed his eyes, shooting you an unamused look. “Shut it,” he rasped — though you noticed his lips twitch up a moment later as he turned on the kitchen sink, picking up one of the dirty dishes.

You stood up on your toes, pressing a soft kiss against the archer’s cheek, the skin where your lips touched tinging pink soon after. “Just give me two minutes,” you said, squeezing his arm as you brushed by him.

Daryl cleared his throat gruffly, caught off guard by the gesture. “M’ countin’!” he called after you.

“Yeah, yeah!” you shouted back, allowing the warmth that filled your chest to carry you the rest of the way down the hall.

Within the hour, you were on the road.

A cool rush of air swept through the passenger side window as you tilted your head back against the headrest and closed your eyes, basking in the sun's gentle rays. The wind danced amongst strands of your tousled hair before settling them back down against your features. Tucking away the freed wisps behind your ears, you opened your eyes, studying the scenery flashing by.

Rows and rows and towering trees lined either side of the long and winding road you found yourself on, a seemingly endless forest just behind it. The car hummed beneath you, passing by long-since abandoned vehicles and scattered debris, continuing to barrel down an otherwise empty highway.

It was strange — there was something somewhat comforting, something sort of nostalgic about being back on the road. Like a glimpse into another lifetime.

“— and I swear, this dude was like, six feet tall. He was one of those, you know, typical chauvinistic pricks, thinking every woman he meets at a bar wants to have sex with him,” Tara’s voice rang from the backseat, drawing you from your reverie. “But you should’ve seen the look on his face when I knocked him on his ass — priceless,” she jeered, an air of pride in her tone.

You shifted in the passenger seat, the corner of your mouth quirking up as you looked back at her. “So, is that when you realized you wanted to join the police academy?” you asked curiously.

“No,” Tara shook her head, a smirk toying at her lips as she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back. “That’s when I realized I like women.”

A laugh bubbled out of you at her response, Tara’s smile simply widening as she shrugged unabashedly, picking up the map splayed out across her lap. As your laughter died down, you started turning to face forward — though you’d only made it halfway when Daryl caught your eye.

The archer sat in the driver’s seat, one hand resting casually on top of the steering wheel, the other propped up against the door. His window was rolled down, the breeze from outside stirring the hair that hung just above his eyes. But what grabbed your attention were his eyes, glinting ocean blue as he glanced over at you, the corner of his mouth faintly lifting.

God, the way he looked at you…

You fought back a smile as you faced forward, wondering what you could’ve possibly done in your life to deserve to be looked at like that. The feeling you’d shoved away earlier at breakfast came rushing back, setting your senses ablaze as you worked on controlling your thrumming pulse.

You loved him.

A heaviness grew in the pit of your stomach as you squeezed your eyes shut.

Fuck.

“Here’s the turn,” Tara’s voice interrupted your spiraling thoughts.

The motel came into view, set back behind a mass of trees, partially hidden from the main road. The car jostled side to side as Daryl drove it down the gravel driveway, leading to the complex. There was a handful of abandoned cars parked sporadically throughout the small parking lot, some trash and debris littering the area, and four lone walkers ambling aimlessly.

Daryl pulled the car off to the side, parking it near the trees and out of sight from the main road, the engine drawing the dead’s attention. “I got ‘em,” he rasped, unsheathing his hunting knife and sliding out of the car in one swift motion.

Your lip quirked up as you watched him dispose of the dead, as quickly and effortlessly as breathing — he’d been made for this world, you were sure of it.

“You coming?” Tara’s voice broke through your thoughts once more, the hint of a mischievous smile ghosting over her features — she’d clearly been watching you ogle at the archer.

You felt your cheeks flush at the scrutiny. “Mhm, yep,” you nodded quickly, shaking away the embarrassment and climbing out of the car.

Daryl crossed back towards you, wiping the walker blood from the blade of his knife onto his jeans and flicking the hair from his face.

“Show-off,” Tara smirked, adjusting the straps of her backpack as she passed him, heading towards the stretch of rooms just ahead.

The archer simply scoffed a breath, rolling his eyes, though you spotted the hint of amusement in his gaze as he waited for you to catch up.

“It’s so weird seeing you without your crossbow,” you remarked, nearing a moment later.

Daryl grunted a breath, swiveling around and falling in step beside you, neither of your momentum’s faltering. “Jus’ wait ’til I find that asshole,” he grumbled, recalling the man he’d met in the woods all those days ago.

“We’ll get you a new one someday,” you smiled, unsheathing your own knife as you approached the motel. “Or you could use the RPG and blow more shit up.”

Daryl snorted a laugh.

“So, how do we wanna do this?” Tara called from up ahead, pausing in front of the center of the strip.

“Room by room?” you suggested, stopping at her side. “One of us can stay on watch, maybe check these other cars for supplies?”

“I got it,” Daryl offered with a nod, re-holstering his gun. “I’ll see if I can get any a’ these guys up an’ runnin’, bring ‘em back home.”

“There’s also an empty gas canister in the trunk,” Tara motioned towards their car. “Salvage what you can,” she shrugged before turning on her heel and heading towards the first room.

You moved to follow, only stopping when Daryl reached out and grabbed your wrist. You turned, spotting the worry in his gaze he tried to hide. “Ya be careful, ya hear me?” he rasped, sliding his grip down and squeezing your hand softly.

“I will,” you nodded, squeezing back, feeling your heartbeat pick up a fraction.

God, you loved him.

The three of you moved quietly and efficiently — you and Tara swept through each room, working your way down the entire motel strip while Daryl picked through the parking lot. The building had been left practically untouched — and besides the supplies you’d managed to scavenge from the motel itself, you’d even found luggage and suitcases left behind by guests who’d apparently vacated in a hurry.

By the time you'd made it halfway down the strip, the packs you brought had been filled to the brim.

“Holy shit-balls, this place is a goldmine,” Tara huffed, tossing her backpack down beside yours in the trunk of your car.

You let out a laugh in disbelief. “I can’t believe it,” you shook your head before scanning the parking lot for Daryl — you spotted him hunched over the hood of a car, his hands buried in the engine, tinkering around. “We should use some of the suitcases we found for the rest of the stuff,” you continued, focusing back on Tara.

“Cool beans,” she shot you a thumbs-up before motioning towards the center of the strip. “Wanna check out the front office before we hit the other half?”

“Sure,” you nodded, slamming the truck shut and falling in step with her as the two of you headed back towards the motel.

When you felt someone watching, you glanced over your shoulder, catching Daryl’s eye — his furrowed brow softened, the corner of his mouth twitching as you sent him a wink and turned back around.

God damn it, you loved him.

Dividing either side of the motel strip was the front office, built just beyond a large swimming pool. There was a tarp draped across the pool, covering most of the swampy green water, though debris floated around the murky edges. Your nose scrunched up as you passed, a funky smell wafting from the mucky water.

“Gross,” you mumbled, mostly to yourself before you glanced over at Tara. “So, you and Denise, huh?” you asked curiously, waggling your eyebrows.

Tara huffed a breath, but you didn’t miss the blush creeping over her cheeks. “I could say the same about you and Dixon,” she shot back, fighting off a smirk.

You rolled your eyes despite the laugh that bubbled out of you. “Oh, come on —”

The rest of your sentence died away, falling from your lips when a sudden growl sounded, breaking the otherwise silent air. You stopped short, Tara halting just beside you. Your breath caught in your throat as you strained your ears, listening for where the noise had come from.

Sure enough, a moment later, a lone walker stumbled into view, coming out from behind the front office.

You let out the breath you’d been holding, feeling Tara do the same. “Hang on, I got it,” you motioned for her to stay put as you jogged ahead, pulling your knife from the holster around your waist. You braced your arm against the biter’s throat, plunging the blade of your knife into its skull in one, swift motion before it dropped at your feet.

But just before you turned to head back, you heard it again — snarling.

Except for this time, it wasn’t just one.

Your stomach dropped as a small herd, about a dozen dead ones, suddenly rounded the corner behind the office, their sights set on you.

“Oh fuck,” you swore, stumbling backward, vaguely aware of Tara yelling your name. But when you spun around, you realized that she too was no longer alone. “Look out!” you shouted, motioning to the two additional walkers quickly approaching from behind her.

As she turned away from you, fighting off the dead that’d snuck up on her, you took off into a sprint, putting some distance between you and the horde.

Tara stabbed her knife into the temple of the first, though the second was on her just as soon. It gripped its fingers around her forearm, pulling her flesh closer and closer towards its snapping jaw…

Just before it could sink its teeth into her skin, you managed to grab it, twisting a fistful of its hair around your fingers and yanking its head backward. You drove your blade through its decaying forehead, stilling it instantly.

But as its grasp slipped away from around Tara’s arm, the walker’s deadweight, in turn, collapsed against you.

You lost your footing and fell backward.

Except the solidity of concrete never rushed up to meet you.

Instead, you were embraced by water, the tarp that’d laid across the motel pool coiling around your body as you sunk deeper and deeper into nothingness.

A/N: EEEEEEK! Y'all know me and how much I love cliffhangers :)

P.S. Feedback is incredibly important. I write for my own happiness, but I also write for YOU. So don’t be afraid to shoot me an ask or leave a comment with your thoughts! It truly motivates me and helps move along the writing process. Also, please consider donating to my Tip Jar. Every little bit helps!

P.S.S. I can no longer tag people on this account, so my tag list has been transferred to my side blog @crossbowking2. If you'd like to be added/removed, please let me know!

[loststarphounix]

Kitten's Cream

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Soda Kazuichi/Tanaka Gundham

Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Supernatural, No Game Spoilers, Were-Creature/Were Panther, Were Panther!Gundham, Semi-Shift sex (like he partials but not all the way), Monster Sex (lite - again he isn't full shifted lol), Hand Job, Rimming, Ball Sucking, Fingering, Anal Sex, Cream pie, penis gets large at some point (I'm blaming it on shifter stuff shhh)

Summary: Kazuichi is caught unawares by when coming back from a party on a full moon night.

Read on Ao3

Authors Note: This is based on my own personal AU headcanon where Gundham is a were-panther and he shares a body with Abysmal Wrath, the manifestation of his animal instincts. I'll probably share more of that later - but its Halloween and I wanted to make something with it and with his more animal impulse side - aptly named Abysmal Wrath. Please enjoy!

A plastic cup was forced into his hand. Kazuichi grimaced at the lukewarm liquid that splashed onto his fingers. His stomach rolled traitorously at the mere thought of drinking beer. This halloween party sucked - no one was even in costume. He doesn’t know how or when Leon got alcohol, but it seemed to just never run out.

Even as he thought that, more bottles of beer and soju were produced seemingly out of thin air, causing several loud, drunken voices to shout exuberant cheers. It made Kazuichi’s face scrunched up as once again some asshole pushed up against him, reeking of booze. He glowered at the solo cup.

Fuck, he needed some air.

Placing the still full cup onto a clutter table, he began to make his way out of the party. It was too much tonight and he dodged questions and Leon’s teasing about being too much of a wet blanket to actually party. Finally, he was outside and he could finally feel himself relax in the crisp autumn night. Rummaging through his pockets, he pulled out and lit a cigarette. 

As he blew out a plum of smoke, he started towards the campus dorms. Up above, the moon sat full and heavy, emitting an eerie yellow light. Its round, smooth surface pulled the corners of his pinched lips down. 

Almost a full two years had passed since he had started Hope’s Peak, and when he discovered that his then rival-turned-friend-turned-boyfriend Gundham Tanaka, was actually a were-panther. It was completely by chance and not what he had thought would be the chunnyboi’s ‘forbidden dark secret’.

Shit, he still can’t believe that it’s real and not some elaborate stunt and he’s seen the other boy transform while busting out of his clothes like something out of a horror flick. But he took it in stride - as well as Kazuichi can take anything scary in stride - and the two shared the secret to ensure that the breeder wasn’t caught and killed.

How they got together, the mechanic still doesn’t know, but apparently to everyone else the writing was on the wall. And once he got his shit together, he went for the plunge and confessed to Gundham. It did not end how he expected. 

Gundham had been so damn chivalrous at the time; wanting to keep the other at arm's length in fear of what his primal instincts would do. But the mechanic refused to just let it end like that once he got his shit together and with the surprising ally of Abysmal Wrath, he managed to bag the nerdiest but kindest guy in the whole school.

He basically got two boyfriends to the price of one and he can’t see it as anything but a win.

Reaching his dorm, Kazuichi dug into his pockets again for the key, when suddenly the door was forced open from the inside. He stumbled, nearly falling on his ass, before strong hands circled his waist and lifted him up. Panic swept through the mechanic’s body, before he let out a relieved sigh when he saw it was Gundham who caught him.

“Babe! You scared the fuck outta me!” Screeched Kazuichi, halfheartedly smacking the other’s chest.

A laugh, dark and velvet rich made tiny sparks of pleasure jolt down the shorter male’s spine. The hands on his waist squeezed, fingers momentarily digging into the flesh on his love handles, before they slowly trailed up and under the graphic tee he wore. 

Kazuichi blinked. While they have fooled around a bit, Gundham was still very much against extensive pda. And Kazuichi got that - not everyone craves physical contact like he did. But the breeder still was reserved, even when they were alone in the safety of their rooms. 

He looked up as the questing fingers continued to pinch and move, surprised to see bright, amber gold glaring down at him instead of the usual silver eyes.

“ Abysmal …” the word formed on his lips, but nothing came out, but he was still rewarded with a savagely wide grin that displayed all the breeder’s teeth. “Byss!”

“Good evening, Kitten.” The taller purred, leaning down to brush their lips together in a fleeting peck before rubbing their noses in greeting.

Kazuichi froze, surprised, his brain not understanding why the other in front of him instead of outside, running free. Abysmal should have been prowling the zoological sanctuary on Hope’s Peak campus, hunting and scaring the resident animals. 

Then it suddenly hits him. It was a full moon tonight. 

The instinctive half of his boyfriend usually had full control on the first night of the full moon, but they usually switched and it never surprised Kazuichi if one moment he was talking to Gundham and the next he was to Abysmal. The only time he didn’t pop into existence was when he and Gundham were intimate - and not because he found it uninteresting but because the breeder had immense self control. Kazuichi had tried to convince his boyfriend to let his other side have a little fun, but he refused; claiming that his other side would not be able to control himself and prevent unneeded injury to their lover and to never provoke the inner animal to do so. He saw how concerned and shook the other seemed at the idea and let it go.

But now he was here and it didn’t make any sense. How could he here, standing in front of Kazuichi, in human shape instead of being on all fours and sporting a black fur coat?

Fingers tighten and dig into his side. Kazuichi startled as he felt himself being drawn closer to the broad chest. A hand lifted up and hooked his chin between long fingers.

“Kitten… reek of alcohol.”

The voice - so the same but so different in candor and tone - dripped down his body like molten honey; even with the warning tone underneath it. He let out a shuddering breath as he subconsciously leaned closer.

“Some ass spilled beer on me. I didn’t even drink tonight.”

He didn’t know why he admitted that last part, but it felt like the right move as the other pulled him flush against his body with an inquisitive hum.

“W-why are you here?” He asked, suddenly timid as he was all but herded into his room. The sudden thought of lambs and wolves came to mind.

Abysmal found his hesitance amusing, continuing to push him inside as he answered, “Me? Oh, no reason really…”

The room was dark and devoid of light aside from the moon and street lamps outside. The sound of the lock engaging sounded much louder than it actually was and the mechanic nearly jumped when he felt the other presence crowding his back. Lips ghosted against his ear, making goosebumps prickle the back of his neck.

“I came calling to see my little Kitten, only to find his room completely empty.” A hint of disapproval colored the man’s voice and Kazuichi scrambled to explain.

“It was just some party Leon invited me to. Didn’t like the vibe so I left.” He tried to shrug, but the other had trapped him in his arms, locking him in place.

Abysmal nosed the nape of his neck and tipped it to the side. The low growl of approval made him shiver.

“You still left.”

“B-but I’m back now?” He whispered, throat suddenly tightening.

Again, the thought of wolves and sheep came to mind.

Dark laughter, so quiet Kazuichi could’ve sworn he imagined it, played across his ear like music. The arms around him tightened and the smooth slide of teeth nipped his ear.

“But you’re back now.” Abysmal agreed, voice rumbling.

It was at that moment that Kazuichi heard the distant sound of a trap snapping shut.

Fingers curl and fisted the front of his shirt, before they pulled harshly. Ripped fabric fluttered in the air and Kazuichi gaped. He turned around, ready to scream at the other for ruining one of the few shirts he owned, before he was picked up and thrown across the room. A scream leaves the mechanic’s throat as he sails towards the bed, landing gracelessly and just managing to avoid hitting his head against the wall.

He barely had a second before Abysmal was draped over him, tearing off the remaining fabric and jerking his jeans down. Moving to stop the other, he’s stopped as a hand grabs his wrist and pins them over his head. He starts to struggle, but freezes at the warning growl - a real, animalistic growl erupted and echoed throughout the room. Yellow pinprick flashed dangerously into the semi darkness, making the bottom of his stomach tighten.

“Behave.” Yellow eyes darkened into near pools of darkness as Abysmal leaned down to gently nip the plush bottom lip.

Shivers rack through Kazuichi's spine at the commanding tone. His body relaxed underneath the other, and Abysmal stared him down for a moment before slowly moving his hands to cup the other’s neck.

“Stay.” Was the only thing he said, before he moved again.

Kazuichi watches the were finally wrestle his jeans off him. Hands - now much larger and thicker than before, was he actually changing holy shit - descended upon his body, grabbing and pinching nearly every inch they could reach. He groaned as elongated fingers pinched his nipples, a blush spreading across his chest as Abysmal chuckles from above him. 

Fingers tickled his side, before they wrapped around his cock and his hips involuntarily jerked up. He wanted to wipe that smug look off his face but then he twisted his wrist and all thoughts of violence vanished. 

A whine left his lips as the other slowly dragged his hand up and down, using a finger to follow the line of his vein and causing pre to already start leaking. He fidgeted, not use to being so still and wanting to reach up and touch his boyfriend. But he doesn’t, because Abysmal told him to and is rewarded with the other speeding up.

It didn’t long for him to cum - he had been horny and hadn’t seen Gundham for a couple of days. He let out a groan as his cum coated the hand wrapped around his cock, making it glide even faster. It didn’t take long for his flagging erection to return to full mast as Abysmal ran a thumb over the slit, slightly digging it and producing a bead a cum.

The hand removes itself and Kazuichi catches himself before he disobeys the previous order by almost reaching out to put that hand back on his dick. Abysmal laughs, more amused than anything, as his lifts the soiled hand to drag his thick tongue across each finger, not breaking eye contact. The pink haired man felt his blush deepen, but he didn't move as the other finished cleaning his hand, before moving a bit to the side and unzipping his jeans. Kazuichi gets on his elbows and watches as the other undresses, having a slight moment of irritation on the fact that only his clothes get shredded, but is immediately distracted by a well defined chest. No matter who’s in charge, Kazuichi will always admire and gawk at the tall, broadly built body above him.

It didn’t take long for the breeder’s clothes to join the ragged stips of cloth on the floor. In all his naked glory, Abysmal climbed onto the bed and pounced on the other. Kazuichi wraps his arms around his boyfriend’s thick shoulders as the taller one zeros in on his neck. He let out an inelegant snort. That was one thing both of them had in common: they liked to attack his neck.

Sharp canines nipped harshly at delicate pink skin, making the shorter man gasp first in fear and then in desire as a thick tongue swathed the area. Blood sluggishly trickles down his skin and he feels the trail being lapped up. Then he felt thin lips wrap around the wound and oh -

Oh he was gonna have a helluva hickey tomorrow.

As he started to suck harder onto the tender flesh, Abysmal began to position Kazuichi, prying open his legs widely. It was almost painful, but he was used to the burn and let the other push them even wider so that he could feel them just kissing the cool sheets. He watched as Abysmal stared down at his wet, throbbing erection and pink puckered hole - flushing when those eyes became darker with unrestrained lust.

“Beautiful.” He growled, his husky tone making the creeping pink flush darken.

And then he leant down and dragged his tongue across the quivering hole.

Gasping, Kazuichi instinctively moves to shut his legs, but Abysmal was already there - crowded in and refusing to let the shorter man close them. He swipes long strokes against Kazuichi’s hole, making it quiver and open a bit bigger the longer he goes on. Then he plunges it inside and Kazuichi grips the sheets in pleasure. The tongue retreats slightly, only for two fingers to slip in. And then the tongue makes it return on his balls and Kazuichi can't smother the scream that was building in the back of his throat. He was given a deep rumble in response, as Abysmal continued to eat him out while also sucking one of his lover's balls.

The stretching makes Kazuichi scramble for purchase and nearly rip his own sheets. A chuckle from below makes hot air puff inside him and Kazuichi writhes. Kazuichi moans as Abysmal works both his fingers and tongue in and out of his ass, thoroughly eating him out with reckless abandon. A wet trail dribbles out and he feels it and has a dawning realization that the other has so much spit coming out of his mouth that it's leaking out his asshole. Fuck, but that just makes it all the hotter.

Questing fingers bump against his prostate and he nearly screams as the claws barely scrape the bundle of nerves. It still makes him cum on himself, babbling and aching as he is eating out through his orgasm. Even when he was done, Abysmal continued, now adding a third finger and doing more stretching than actually exploring. Much sooner than he would’ve wanted, he felt the tongue and fingers retreat and let out a disappointed moan at the loss. Abysmal didn’t laugh at him this time - probably more to do with the fact that his own cock was painfully red and steadily leaking as it nudged against his thigh.

Before he can even blink, he’s flipped over and manhandled so that he’s on all fours. He feels the other hike his hips up so that he bends his elbows with his ass stuck in the air. Warm hands paw at his ass, making him flush from his face down to bottom as his chest.

Abysmal takes in his reaction with great relish, giving a cheek a sharp slap. “Such a pretty little thing I caught. And it's all mine.”

“You didn’t catch me.” Panted Kazuichi, turning slightly to lock eyes with his lover.

“Hmm…true. The cub got to you first.” He slides his paw like hands up so that they settle on a thick waist before jerking the other closer. Smirking at the sound of air leaving his mate’s lungs, he leans down to crowd over Kazuichi, before mouthing the shell of a pink ear. “But you’re all mine now.”

With no warning, Kazuichi felt the head of his cock right against his hole, before it slammed right into him. The breath let his lungs as his lover completely sheathed himself in one go. Because his hole had been so wet and stretched, it slid in smoothly, but it still took Kazuichi a moment to regain himself. But Abysmal didn’t give a moment.

He only took a moment to shift his position, before he began to drive into the warm body below. All Kazuichi could do was take deep breaths as the pace became faster and faster with very little time to get used to it. But this wasn’t his first rodeo with Gundham and his dick - his body was acquainted with the shape and length of him, so it didn’t take long for Kazuichi to get into the feeling of being fucked.

Soon, he began to lift his hips to meet the other and Abysmal let out a pleased groan as he sped up even more. He watched as the other’s face slowly changed - becoming more beastly. 

His pupils became slited and the eyes seemed to glow even brighter; face distorted into a half human, half animal muzzle, with hair popping out of his face and cheeks in a fine dusting. 

His fangs are fully extended and cut his bottom lip, and his hands have the shadow tellings of paws with claws popped out. Despite being all but a full on cat person, he somehow keeps the rest of the transformation at bay - his self control so strong that he can do so even partially shifted was impressive. 

Usually, seeing Gundham go through the shift scared the piss out of him. But now, as his prostate was getting hit repeatedly as he was fucked through it, Kazuichi found it a little hot.

Oh, he was really fucked up, wasn’t he? But he loved every second of it and was in good company anyway.

“Byss please! Don’t stop.” He panted, keening like a wounded animal as a large clawed hand shredded the pillow next to him.

A rough sound came from behind him, as Abysmal began to thrust into him harder, really fucking him raw. It was so much different than with Gundham, Kazuichi couldn’t help but compare it. Where the breeder was slow and sweet and a bit rough, Abysmal was all rough with tiny pockets of sweetness. It was maddening and Kazuichi felt like he was gonna die of pleasure.

“Kitten. Such a good kitten, submitting so pretty for me.” He growled, his words slurring as his canines began to protrude from his lips. 

Kazuichi moaned in reply as he bit his lip, trying desperately to smother the sounds escaping. But it was no use as Abysmal grabbed a fistful of his hair and jerked his head up. The shorter man let out a bellowing moan as his hair was pulled, the pain and pleasure mingling so sweetly that his toes curled in want. 

He clenched around the length inside him, causing his boyfriend to groan before snapping his hips, making them both jerk forward. Kazuichi let his head fall, now free from the others' hold but now letting the strangled moans and screams flow freely.

Thick drool begins to trickle onto his  bare lower back and Kazuichi shivers as they pooled and slid down with every harsh thrust. He went to touch his cock - now damp and near purple, but was slapped away with a warning growl. So he grabbed the other's thigh instead, causing Abysmal to speed up even faster.

Groans and gasps filled the room filled with increasing volume. Kazuichi’s body jerked with each thrust, absently thinking that the other was pushing harder into him more to prove a point than to actually bring him pleasure.

He gaped when suddenly, he felt the dick inside him swell - much more than it usually did when he had sex with Gundham. He didn’t say anything at first, because the thick girth was pressing oh so nicely against his prostate.

 But then one particular instance of an outward jerk pulled the rim to the point of pain that overshot the pleasure for a moment, which made the shorter man see stars as he breath left his lungs. He tried to wiggle out of the other's hold, but he was pressed further into the bed.

“W-wait! Too much too - Ah !” Kazuichi pleaded, arching himself off the bed. Panic and pleasure warred within him as he tried again to get away. “Ah!”

A large, claw tipped hand suddenly grabbed him and pushed him back into the mattress. More of the other’s cock entered him and Kazuichi’s mouth gaped open. Shit, he thought he had taken him all to the base already?

“Don’t try to run.” Came the distorted growl, the claw tips gentl piercing into the shoulder blade just enough to draw tiny dots of blood. Kazuichi let out another whine as Abysmal leaned down to lap them in apology, “You’re doing so well taking all of me in. Don’t disappoint me now, Kitten.”

Fangs gently nipped at the nap of his neck and Kazuichi went limp, letting the pleasure and his boyfriend dictate what he should do. A low rumble of approval vibrated from his back, before he felt the other speed up his movements. Kazuichi had to hold onto the ruined sheet with the power of the thrusts. Then he felt the pressure build up again, before he finally bottoms out.

Shit! Kazuichi’s eyes widened, his heart hammering.

If he wasn’t full now, he was completely fucking stuffed now. He could feel his hole spasm at the width and girth and his cock - which had started to wilt - throb and steadily leak a small puddle underneath him. A small noise of distress escapes him and Abysmal slows his movements down just enough to give him a moment. But Kazuichi doesn’t want to stop - not when he feels so impossibly full .

He pushes back, groaning as the small inch that Abysmal had removed sinks right back into him. Abysmal hisses a strangled moan and it emboldens him. Slowly, he pulls himself only a few inches off, before slamming back again, this time making claws score down his sides and it adds to the pleasure.

It was as though this was the sign his lover needed, because with a huff, Abysmal grip tightens on his middle before he pulls Kazuichi harshly towards him. With no warning, he starts to rail harder into him, keeping close enough so that only very little of his cock left that tight hole at a time.

Kazuichi’s breath left him at the harsh pace. Never had he actually felt this used before - so full and still hungry for more. It was driving him crazy. He weakly tried to shove his back to meet him thrust to thrust, but his own energy was waning and Abysmal was keeping him locked in place. He laid there, cheek pressed into the bed and drool seeping out his mouth as he made keening noises almost akin to that of a dying animal. There was so little space between them that they were basically humping each other at this point.

All of a sudden, as he was roughly lifted up. Kazuichi scrambled to hold onto his boyfriend’s body close as he was brutally fucked from behind. The new position brought more pressure against his prostate and it made his horace voice stutter into a broken scream as it was continuously assaulted. 

Suddenly, with an embarrassing and earth shattering force, he abruptly came. He let out a long moan in surprise as his cum shot out and landed into a messy stain onto the mattress. He shuddered, pathetically whining as a his prostate was still being stimulated by the now ridiculous size of Abysmal’s cock.

He leaned back, only being suspended by the other’s strength as he head lolled. Abysmal nosed his check, before jerking it away and sinking his teeth into the crock of his neck. Kazuichi let out a pathetic mew as he felt the fangs sink into his flesh and the blood sluggishly trail down his shoulder as the other still continued to fuck into him.

Then, Abysmal wrenched away from his neck and forced Kazuichi onto his stomach. Holding him in place, he shoved into the mechanic twice more before stilling. He let out a yowl as he came into Kazuichi, his fangs pressing another mark into the other’s shoulder blade as he continued to pump cum. His claws extended and ripped large chunks into the mattress and sheet.

Kazuichi shivered and whined as it happened, mind foggy from the multiple orgasms to even be completely there as stayed locked together for several minutes. Finally, his boyfriend retracted his fangs from his shoulder, a shuddering groan leaving Abysmal at the taste of blood. He gave the wound a loving lick, before he pulled away. 

No longer being held up, Kazuichi collapsed onto a heap, only having enough strength to turn his head so he didn’t smother himself. Above him, Abysmal unsheathed his claws from the mattress, starting down at his prone, shaking body with that eerie gaze. 

A pressure from within eases slightly as the other pulls out of his entrance with a sloppy and loud pop and Kazuichi shivers. He vainly tries to squeeze his hole shut to prevent the cooling cum from leaking out. A trickle still travels down despite his efforts, before two fingers probe and push the leaking fluids back in almost roughly. 

They even enter and two fingers stretch him open, causing more to leak. It causes his hole to spasm and his eyes rolled to the back of his head at the over stimulation; making him flop his head back and releasing ragged breaths as the other continues to push them back in. 

Several moments pass before he can’t take anymore and shies away from the invading fingers, letting out a noise of relief when they finally retract. With the fingers out, Kazuichi can finally collapse on the bed in a heap. His breathing is uneven as he tries desperately to regain his senses.

He hears another rumbling purr, that is so loud that the whole room seemed to shake from it. It sounds like it has the undertone of immense satisfaction. 

Or maybe that was Kazuichi’s post nut imagination. He distantly heard muttered praise as a hand gently ran through his sweaty mane.

“Such a good mate. Took me so well and didn’t even complain. Kept me all in that little pretty hole. Such a good baby girl.” He praised, nuzzling into the smaller man’s sweaty pink hair, the purring somehow louder than before.

The pet name made his dick twitch in interest, but he was still recovering from the back to back orgasms to even think about touching it. Instead, he weakly pushed the other away, who only pouted over the shaky mechanic’s pitiful attempt to crawl away. He made no move to help and even let out a little snicker when Kazuichi flopped back down helplessly.

Kazuichi panted as his fingers uselessly splayed on the ruined mattress, shame coloring his ears and watering his eyes. His first real night like this with Abysmal and he can’t even crawl to a dry spot literally an inch away. Not to mention how battered and bruised he felt now and would probably look like he escaped a full on mawing from a wild animal tomorrow. 

Fuck, he really needed to get to that dry spot and catch some sleep.

Groaning, Kazuichi moved to roll away from the cooling puddle of cum underneath him - fuck crawling his diginity can be bruised a bit- and froze as a large, elongated hand rested on his whole thigh, pinpricks of the unsheathed claws having just enough pressure to be made aware of their existence. 

Breath stuttered as it quickened in anticipation and he looked up to see the half transformed face of his boyfriend staring him down with laser focus. Now he looked more beastly, his features less human and even had his goddam tail swinging behind him like a pendulum. Fangs glinted in the scant light as he smirked down at the confused pink haired man.

“Not so fast, Kitten. I didn’t say you could go anywhere, did I?” Golden eyes glowed with an almost maddening hunger as Abysmal dragged Kazuichi’s frozen body closer. “I’m not through with you just yet.”

end

[five-rivers]

Danger First

Chapter 3

@pocketramblr (also please let me know if you would like me to stop tagging you on these, I don't want to be annoying. :))

"WAIT!" shouted Nana abruptly, as Izuku was talking to his (weirdo) teacher. "I know who that is! Quick, get ready to turn everything off!"

"Turn what off?" asked En. "We live in a formless mental void. We don't even have electricity."

"The quirk! That's Eraserhead!"

"Oh, yeah," said Yoichi, while everyone else (sans Second and Third) scrambled to grab onto the quirk. "I remember Eight meeting him, now! So, he's a teacher, huh?"

"How do all of you forget the one person who might be capable of one-shotting All for One?" demanded Nana.

"Doesn't his quirk not work on mutations?"

"Stop daydreaming and get over here, Yoichi!"

The quirkspace began to glow faintly, ominously red, and the ghosts pulled hard on the quirk, holding it temporarily out of Izuku's reach.

Then, the red glow abated and they dropped it back into place.

"Well, that was exhausting," said Banjo. "So, we'll have to be constantly ready for that, huh?"

"As long as he's around, yeah," said Nana.

"Why did we just do that, anyway?" asked En.

"So we can continue to masquerade as a normal, non-haunted quirk?"

"We could have just let him think he didn't have a quirk, or that the anxiety-"

"Super anxiety."

"-isn't part of it."

Yoichi gasped, as if scandalized. "You'd want us to lie to Izuku?"

"Okay, seriously, what is up with you and Nine?" asked En.

Despite not having a body, Yoichi began to visibly sweat. "Nothing, nothing at all. I just... think he's neat?"

"If you're going to lie to us, can you not do it with archaeomemes?" asked Nana.

"No, no, actually, I can get behind this," said En. "Would you say Izuku has... vibes?"

Yoichi nodded solemnly.

.

"Young Midoriya!"

Izuku shrieked and jumped back from the sudden sound as All Might suddenly emerged from an otherwise innocuous bush.

Both of them froze, staring at each other.

"Are you..." said All Might, hesitantly, sounding much more like he did in his small form than usual, "alright?"

"I... think so?"

"That's good, then." All Might coughed slightly into his fist. "I was wondering if you had a few minutes."

"Of- of course!" said Izuku, immediately.

"Then allow me to lead the way!"

All Might led him through a door labeled 'staff only' and immediately deflated. "All the staff know about my condition," explained Mr. Yagi.

Izuku nodded. Then a thought occurred to him. "Mr. Yagi?"

"Yes, my boy?"

"Why, um, why don't you teach, um, as Mr. Yagi? Instead of as All Might? Wouldn't it save your time?"

Mr. Yagi stopped and scratched his head. "I hadn't really thought about it before," he admitted. "But part of the reason I took this job, other than wanting to help train the next generation of heroes, of course, is that I want to get people used to the idea that I am going to retire." He tugged on one of his bangs. "Also, ah, I'm not sure if my qualifications to teach are quite up to par without my reputation."

"I'm sure it would be fine! You're the best, after all!"

Mr. Yagi chuckled. "I'm glad you think so," he said. Then he reached behind him and opened a door. "In any case: my office."

"Wow," said Izuku, quietly, stepping in. "All Might's office..." Who knew when he'd get another opportunity like this again? He kept his eyes wide to drink in the details.

The rather sparse details. The office was rather bare. Which made sense, seeing as All Might was a brand-new teacher. It was sort of... disappointing, as thrilling as it was.

Mr. Yagi sat down behind the desk and gestured for Izuku to take one of the other chairs. It had a lot of cushioning. A lot a lot. Izuku sank down into the fluff as Mr. Yagi fiddled with a drawer on his desk. He got the drawer open, and pulled out a notebook. A notebook of the same brand Izuku liked to use, actually.

"Since your experiences with One for All are so different from mine, I thought it might be a good idea to do some research into past holders and take a leaf out of your notebook, as it were." He passed the notebook over to Izuku, who took it with shaking hands and a slightly open mouth.

"I'll treasure it," he declared, voice wobbling.

"Not so much that you don't use it, I hope," said Mr. Yagi. "As it is, it's only an overview. The earlier holders, especially, don't have many records associated with them. Consider it a starting point. I haven't had much time to work on it."

"I can't believe you found the time to write this at all," said Izuku, flipping through the pages. The information was sparse, but each holder had a basic profile, all the way back to the fourth. "I mean, between being a hero, training me, and preparing to be a teacher, I'm stunned nothing fell by the wayside!"

Mr. Yagi proceeded to turn a very interesting color.

"Uh, nothing fell by the wayside, right?"

"Why don't you take a few minutes to skim through. If anything jumps out at you right away, we can talk about it. And then I'll let you go get changed and go home, and we can discuss more later, after you've had more time with it."

"Okay!" said Izuku. He'd start with just the basic profiles. Name, date of birth, date of death, quirk... wait, those ages... "They all died young," he said, softly.

"Hero work is dangerous," said Mr. Yagi, hand going to his side.

"There's something else, isn't there?"

"Not something you need to worry about. I took care of it, years ago." The hand holding his side spasmed slightly.

"... Six years ago?" asked Izuku, aware he was pushing his luck. But this sounded both important and relevant.

There was a long pause. "Yes," said All Might, finally. "A villain with a longevity quirk. He... had a history with the first user."

Izuku got the feeling that was an understatement. It also seemed unlikely that the only application of the villain's quirk was longevity, given what he'd done to All Might. But the subject was clearly making All Might uncomfortable, so he dropped it in favor of burying his nose in the notebook again.

(Social fumbles aside, this was the most secure Izuku had felt for... a while.)

"The sixth user had a smoke quirk?"

"Yes, it seems so. Although it doesn't seem to have been actual smoke, but a biological compound."

"I wonder if that has anything to do with all the steam you release when you deflate. Actually..." he flipped back through the quirk. "I wonder if you're using Float, too, subconsciously, when you jump."

"What?"

"I- I mean," said Izuku, "I noticed, when, um, when I grabbed your ankle and also in videos of you- Your hang time is kind of messed up? You're in the air for longer than you should be, but it isn't, like, consistent? Plus, you can change direction mid-air, which I thought was because you were shooting out blasts of air pressure with your quirk, but with me on your ankle, you definitely didn't do that. There was- there was a forum I was on where some people thought your quirk tapped into magnetic fields, somehow, but that doesn't make any sense, because you'd expect a lot more electronic interference and that similar locations would produce similar results, given the Earth's magnetic field, but they don't. But subconscious, low-level use of a telekinesis-based flying quirk would explain everything. If we take into account what you said about my anxiety after the entrance exam, then that's minor expressions of three out of four of the quirks listed here, not counting the base stockpile and enhancement quirk. Do you think the unknown quirks of the second and third users might have partially manifested for you as well? Have you experienced anything else that's atypical for a strength enhancement quirk?"

Mr. Yagi stared at Izuku.

Oh, no, he'd gone too far.

"Nothing immediately comes to mind, my boy," he said, faintly. "But... magnets? Really?"

"I told you it didn't make any sense."

Mr. Yagi rubbed his chin. "There might be something, but... it's too unclear to say either way. I'll keep an eye out. It's just... a lot to take in. I thought One for All was done surprising me."

"When has it surprised you before?"

"Oh, under the influence of certain mental quirks, you can wind up hallucinating the previous users."

"Hallucinating?"

"Yes. But being under the influence of a mental quirk is always the larger issue, so..."

"Mr. Yagi," said Izuku. "That's really the kind of thing you should let people know about up front."

"I- is it?"

.

The ghosts all stared at Nana.

"Hey, don't blame this on me! None of us explained that kind of stuff before passing One for All on."

"In our defense," said En, half raising a hand, "we were usually dying when we passed it on."

"More importantly," said Hikage, "do you think Ninth is right about the quirks?"

"It would make sense," mused Yoichi. "Although then we'd have to wonder why Blackwhip didn't manifest similarly."

"Is it too much for me to get someone to use my quirk? My extremely awesome quirk, that has no downsides?"

"It is powered almost exclusively by rage."

"No downsides."

"You-"

"No. Downsides."

.

Aizawa passed him an envelope labeled 'quirk counseling' along with the standard schedule and orientation packet he was handing to everyone else. It didn't look like any of his class mates had noticed, though, for which Izuku was grateful. He didn't want to be known as a weirdo who didn't know what his own quirk was.

He heavily suspected he was tapping into Danger Sense, somehow, but he didn't know how, and the fourth user of One for All had lived so long ago there weren't any records of him. Not easily and publicly available. Everything Mr. Yagi had written in his notebook (that Izuku had probably stayed up way too late reading... and texting Mr. Yagi about it... and comparing it to his notes... and texting Mr. Yagi about that... and reviewing old All Might compilations and theory threads... and having Mr. Yagi threaten to call his mom if he didn't go to sleep...) about the fourth user had been retrieved from the journals Mr. Yagi's mentor had passed down, according to one of the source notes in the margin.

(Mr. Yagi had really neat, small handwriting, which Izuku wouldn't have ever expected from his large, dramatic signatures as All Might, and his notes were meticulous and carefully cited. If Izuku didn't know better, he would have thought it belonged to a secretary.)

But despite Izuku's suspicions, he didn't actually know. He didn't know it's range, what it defined as danger, whether or not it 'ranked' dangers, how to distinguish it from normal anxiety, or- Well. Anything, really. And he would really like to.

He opened the envelope quietly. Inside was a handwritten note instructing him to pick one of three schedules for quirk counseling and return it to Aizawa by the end of the day. The other pages were printed, with times and possible locations. Options for both before and after the school day.

Izuku felt his eyes tearing up. This was easily the nicest thing a teacher had ever done for him... Although he was nervous about being alone with Aizawa. Some of his other teachers, when they asked him to stay after class it was... not good.

Nothing bad happened, not like in movies or TV shows or the awareness videos the school had shown sometimes. The teachers didn't hurt him, really, didn't do anything to him, other than talk or yell, mostly, but it still wasn't good.

Maybe he could ask Mr. Yagi or Recovery Girl to sit in... But he already felt bad, taking up so much of their time.

He picked one of the after school schedules. He was already staying late on the other days to work with Mr. Yagi, and if something did go wrong, he wanted to have the night to recover before he had to face Aizawa again in class.

He put it to the side, so he'd remember to give it to Aizawa before he left, then looked over the class schedule. Homeroom, Math, Hero Art History, History, and English in the morning. At least this morning. The history classes alternated with something called Heroics-Applied Science and Hero Law and Ethics. Afternoons, meanwhile, were entirely occupied by Hero Basic Training.

And every class would be taught by a pro hero. He wondered if it would be rude to ask for their autographs...

.

Shouta grunted as Hizashi flopped down onto the couch next to him on the couch in the staff breakroom. "What a morning! I just love seeing all those bright little faces at the beginning of the year. Anyone have a favorite first year yet?"

Shouta kicked Hizashi through his sleeping bag. Sadly, this had no effect on the man.

"I think mine might be the little green guy. He's the only one who was actually paying attention, and you know how rare that is, when everyone is anticipating their first heroics lesson. The rest of us just pale in comparison."

Shouta attempted to kick Hizashi again, this time for an entirely different reason. Midoriya was already All Might's favorite (probably)- he did not need more pull with the staff.

"I know who my least favorite is," said Kan. "Kid's certainly dedicated and competitive, but I wouldn't be surprised if he threatened his middle school teachers into giving him those glowing reviews. His personality needs a lot of work. How did you get Nezu to saddle me with Bakugo, anyway, Eraser?"

"I had nothing to do with it."

"Don't give me that, I was going to have Monoma. At least he's a team player."

"You're being illogical," said Shouta, zipping his sleeping bag closed over his face.

"How about you, Nemuri?" asked Hizashi, cutting off Vlad King vs Eraserhead round five hundred.

"It's hard to choose! They're all so cute and eager! Full of the passion of youth! I think they're all my favorite."

"You always say that..."

The door opened and closed.

"All Might! What about you? Any favorites yet?"

Yagi coughed. "I've only had the one class of third years so far. Don't you think that's rather... premature?"

What an incredible nonanswer.

"How did that first class of yours go, anyway? They didn't sour you to the whole idea of teaching, did they?"

"Not at all! The students were wonderful. The third years are very advanced, aren't they? For some of them, I wouldn't be shocked to see that skill level on an active sidekick."

"What can I say? We start them off right," crowed Hizashi.

"They did seem a little surprised by the scenario, however."

"So was I, t'be honest," said Snipe, who was in charge of the third years.

"Ah, was it no good...?"

"It was fine. Lesson plan was a bit rough around the edges, but you and Nezu'll be goin' over that later. But... quirk traffickin' doesn't quite seem like your thing."

"Ah, well, set-pieces," he said, using the slightly derisive underground slang for large-scale spotlight hero battles, "may be what I'm known for, but before my injury, the majority of my battles and investigations weren't publicized."

"Shield laws?" asked Nemuri.

"Generally, yes, but some of the investigations were tied to others, so we were using the organized crime secrecy laws to keep those under wraps. Simply put, my popularity isn't the only reason I keep the number one spot despite Endeavor having more completed cases than me on paper."

Shouta had known there was more to All Might than 'punchy, over-the-top, eyestrain-causing, bombastic muscle guy,' but part of his stupid, illogical brain was annoyed at Yagi for pummeling that image into imaginary dust, anyway. It seemed like the man's only two flaws were horrible interpersonal skills when not using his public persona, and his vast suite of health issues, the latter of which all heroes who operated long enough picked up.

Oh, and a possible inclination towards bribery.

Made it hard to dislike him, which Shouta wanted to do, because he was loud, flashy, and gave him headaches, literal and metaphorical. He ignored the fact that Hizashi was the same way, and had forcibly become Shouta's best friend. Clearly, there was no connection here.

"By the way, why is young Aizawa completely zipped in like that?"

"Nap time," said Hizashi, solemnly.

.

"Sir?" said Iida, raising his hand.

"Yes, young man?" boomed All Might.

"There are nineteen of us. How are we handling the odd person out?"

"Excellent question! In other exercises, we may handle it differently, but for today, one of you will be working alone! Occasionally, a hero may find themselves isolated when they originally expected help. However, for better balance, I have also arranged it so the odd hero out will be taking part in the last battle, so you'll have more time to strategize!"

But the other team would also have more time to strategize, Izuku noted. He really hoped it wouldn't be him... not that he wanted to force it on any if his classmates! He just didn't want yet another handicap on the first day of training.

All Might walked around with the box of ballots, pausing for each student to take one. He reached Izuku and held the box out to him with a wink. Izuku smiled back, reached in, and grabbed one.

A chill ran up his back and he froze, fingers wrapped tightly around the little ball. Something told him this was definitely the cursed, single-person ballot. Could he let it go? Would it be considered cheating if he picked a new one?

But All Might was already walking away. Every part of his body tense, Izuku turned his hand over and forced his fingers apart.

J.

The tenth character of the Latin alphabet. For the tenth, last, team.

He watched as everyone else started to pair up, and All Might looked at him apologetically.

Izuku approximated a smile. Plus ultra, right?

[thepictureofsdr]

Okok I just saw your answered ask with your opinions and feelings on matthew and I want to mention how guilt and remorse can make people act out in weird ways

Like, my mom when teaching me to drive was so irrational about a lot of things and got very upset at me over little stuff because her cousin died in a car crash and she survived. My friend's dog died when she was little because he ate something poisonous that ig she had left out made her hate dogs. Like not afraid of them, she hated them and would say so outwardly

Which makes me think that maybe the partial reason, aside from jealousy which is a whole other thing with matthew, that matthew acts the way that he does towards alastair is rooted in him trying to protect tom, kit, and james from dying like his baby sister, or like the kid that died at the academy(which I'm pretty sure both james and matthew still think alastair let loose)

Or it could just be that he's been conditioned to think that alastair's a bad person bc of his dad or that he's in a relationship with charles(i will die on the hill that matthew knows about their relationship and is upset about it-)

Or it could just be that cc ruins a lot of her characters in the idea of making them more interesting or funny or in order to give another character more development(ex anna, james, charlotte/henry, etc)

Ignore me I’m still on a math/alastair brainrot from the fic I wrote last night

yeah it’s a really interesting phenomenon thing how guilt and grief affect us

personally i think it’s because math places all the blame on alastair bc alastair tipped the first domino, but hes subconsciously viewing alastair as himself, there’s a technical term for using someone else as an outlet of emotion but i can’t remember it for the life of me i’m the worst psych student alive

he can’t fully cope with all that guilt and blame he places on himself so the easiest person to put it on is alastair. he views himself as awful and corrosive to the people around him, so in turn he places all that emotion onto alastair and acts accordingly. matthew hates himself and thinks everyone should, so he constantly points out ever single flaw in alastair. he thinks he should be abandoned, so he pushes everyone away from alastair etc etc

it’s not confirmed at all of course but i think it fits, it’s his minds way of coping, separating himself from that body crushing guilt until he can process it

[h2bakugou]

Hello! Could I please get a soft shiggy x fem!reader? Basically the reader is like god dammit why aren’t u taking care of urself? And basically gives him a lil homemade spa day! I think it’d be really cute! It can be fluff or smut, whatever you prefer!

a/n: hii!! of course!! i kept this kinda fluffy, posting a day later but happy birthday shiggy baby

summary: the constant state that shigaraki stays in while running the league is certainly an interesting one, but you can’t bear watching him not take care of himself. so you arrange a day to do just that

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, fluff, mentions of not eating, mentions of anxiety, a few mentions of nudity but nothing sexual

word count: 2.2k (okay pop awf-)

;cut for length;

»»��———-　★　————-««

»»————-　★　————-««

The prominent dark circles under Shigaraki’s eyes were a clear indication that he had been up all night again. Even while he sat in the bed beside you, playing a game on some handheld console, you could tell he hadn’t been to sleep at all in the past twenty-four hours.

Trying to ignore the soft sounds coming from his game, you cuddled up to him anyway, slinging an arm under on of his, resting your hand back up on his shoulder, your grasp resembling that of a backpack strap.

“What are you playing?” You mumbled quietly, your eyes just barely peeking over his arm, the screen illuminated a little too brightly for your comfort.

“Some weird RPG I downloaded from a forum. It’s stupid.” Shigaraki quickly turned the game console off and set it on the night stand, turning over to look at you.

“You look tired, did you not sleep good last night?” You ask, reaching a delicate hand up to caress his cheek, thumb carefully grazing over the top his cheek. You pull him in for a delicate kiss, just barely touching his lips.

You were still half-asleep, but you could tell Shigaraki wasn’t taking care of himself again. He had these spells, usually around the time when the League wasn’t doing much, plotting or just moving around, he wouldn’t sleep, he’d barely eat-his excuse would be he forgot, but you knew he was anxious.

Anxious for what was to come. He was a good leader, and he was strong, probably stronger than you were, but that didn’t matter. You were worried about him.

You couldn’t stand seeing those dark circles under his eyes, of hearing his tummy rumble when you lay next to him. It seemed the scratching on his neck would worsen as well, raw skin peeking through under the already cracked and dry skin he itched at for what felt like hours.

“Didn’t sleep.” He replied quietly. He knew you were about to scold him. He could read it all over your face as you pouted, pulling him into you.

“You could’ve woke me up, and we could’ve done something to help you fall asleep.” You sit up, ushering him to lay in your lap. As he does so, you take one look at his hair and inwardly cringe.

It’s a knotted mess, and no matter how much you wanted to run your fingers through it, you probably wouldn’t even get halfway before having to brush your fingers out of there with a hair brush. Or worse, cut them out.

“Didn’t wanna bug you.” Shigaraki seemed cold. His responses were dry. You heaved a sigh and pushed him up by his shoulders. Slinking out of the bed, you walked around to his side and tugged him out, pulling him over to the bathroom by his arms.

“How many times have I told you I don’t mind.” You sigh as you set him down on he toilet lid, watching as he just nods, hanging his head as you turn on the water for the bath.

Allowing it to warm up, you turn back to him and tug at his shirt.

“Arms up.” You speak softly, proceeding to take his shirt off as he lifts his arms up.

“When did you get this!?” You’re visibly and audibly worried as you spot a rather large bruise on his side. It looked like it hurt.

“Last fight.” Shigaraki sighed and glanced up at you.

“What are you doing?” His lips were fitted in a thin line, his eyelids were barely open, probably to heavy to even try.

“I’m going to help you relax. Look, your shoulders are so tense you can’t even relax them!” You went to touch his shoulders and just as you had stated, the muscles felt locked and telling by the hissing from Shigaraki, they were painful to move and touch.

“Alright alright! Just, am I taking a bath?” He questioned. You nodded and stepped aside, allowing him to undress the rest of the way before getting into the tub, his lips parting as he sat down, the warm water already making him feel slightly better.

Taking a cup you’d left in the bathroom from dumping out some soda, you rinsed it quickly under the sink, making sure it wasn’t sticky, and then brought it over to the tub where you scooped up some water and poured it over Shigaraki’s hair.

Once it was wet enough to lather some shampoo in, you allowed him to lean back as you worked your fingers through his locks. Unknotting his hair and washing it was a bit difficult, but taking your time, you made sure every strand of his hair was clean.

Your fingers worked their way back up to his scalp where you massaged for quite a few minutes, both to try and remove any built up dirt and dandruff and to give him a bit of a massage.

Shigaraki was almost purring in satisfaction as you finally dragged your hands away, reaching for the cup to rinse his hair. It didn’t take you long to rinse out all the suds before getting started on the conditioner.

“Thank you.” Shigaraki mumbled, holding his knees to his chest, his head dipped back so you could wash his hair easier.

“Of course. I know you haven’t been taking care of yourself again, I know you don’t mean too, but I can’t help but notice.” You sigh, running the pleasant-smelling conditioner through his white locks.

“You have these weird spells. I understand though, how you feel. It’s not easy being the leader, I can’t imagine the stress you feel, but you’ve got to take care of yourself. It’s important. You gotta be strong for the league, and for yourself.” You know Shigaraki, a little more than everyone else in the league does.

You’re dating him for peat’s sake. But Shigaraki became standoffish, grumpy, and even distant during these spells. There was nothing to do. Besides maybe make up a plan for a little something just to do something.

He was anxious about the little things. About how the league looked to the public. About how long they had stayed in one location. About how long it had been since their last big attack.

He needed to get back to league business, but there needed to be time, a good plan, an opening, the forces to attack, all of it needed to be planned with pinpoint accuracy, and those things took time.

“I love you, a whole bunch.” You lean over and kiss his cheek, smiling as his cheeks burn red.

You lather up a loofa with some nice scented soap and begin to wash his back and shoulders, down his arms and a little on his neck.

You’re extra careful around his neck and try not to get any of the scented soap on his raw skin. You know it hurts, and it’ll sting when water washes over it, but you’ll have to take extra good care of that spot later.

When you’re finished washing him, you drain the water and let him stand up, switching the bath to a shower and you begin to rinse him off.

It feels so domestic, these few minutes. The way you laugh and giggle when you tell him to lift his arms and spin and then call yourself some sort of car wash as you spray the warm water over him.

“You’re making a mess.” Shigaraki states at the various puddles of water on the bathroom floor. You sigh and finally help him rinse his conditioned hair out, asking him to hold the shower head for you while you run your fingers through his hair and ring out all the suds.

After the shower, you let him stand and air dry why you go and retrieve a towel. Upon walking in, he’s turned away from you, so you decide to pinch his butt, playfully of course.

Shigaraki just turns and glares at you, taking the towel from you as you giggle.

“I touched the butt.” You laugh as you leave the bathroom, letting him dry off. While he does so, you search around for a pair of boxers to hand him as well as a comfy t-shirt to put on after you give him a nice back massage.

Handing him his underwear, you look away and decide to make the bed quickly while he gets partially dressed.

“Where’s my shirt?” He questions. You turn and for a few seconds, you’re flustered. There’s Shigaraki, hair dripping wet and running down his toned chest, right down to the waist band of his black boxers. The towel you’d given him is lazily tossed over one shoulder, and he looks like some sort of actor out of a terrible romance movie.

Too entranced by his looks, you quickly shake your head, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. You pat the freshly made bed.

“Back massage.” You blurt out kneeling on the bed, waiting for him to lay down.

“Flustered?” Shigaraki stands beside the bed, a finger under your chin as you look up at him. You lean up and kiss his lips, smiling as you pull away.

“Well when you look that good can you blame me?” You tease, waiting as he lays down on the bed like you had motioned for.

“I guess not.” He replies.

Laying his head over his folded arms, his chest is against the bed. You move to sit over his butt as you look at his back. Still a little damp from the shower, you take the towel that had been tossed on the bed and dry it off, running it through his wet locks a bit.

Tossing it down onto the floor, too unbothered about it leaving a wet-mark on the carpet, You squirt some lotion into your hand and delicately begin to rub it into his back, carefully drawing your fingers across his skin, massaging it up over his shoulders.

Your fingers work magic as you relieve his tension, working at his shoulders carefully and strategically, undoing any knots that had formed.

Shigaraki’s eyes are closed, and small hums of satisfaction spill from his mouth as you do so.

You spend minutes massaging his back, quietly and gently working lotion into his skin. And when you’re finished, you ask him to sit up and face you. He puts on a shirt and you ask for his hands.

He’s skeptical but allows you to see one. You carefully apply some lotion to your hand and begin to massage it in, working down each one of his fingers before gently massaging his palm.

He stares at you in admiration as you seem un-phased by his hands, or the fact that he could kill you with them if you messed up. You don’t even look anxious, or worried about them.

And when you switch to his other hand, you continue, even when his fingers twitch. You just smile and kiss the back of his hand when you’re done, complementing the way he looks.

Interlocking your hands with his, Shigaraki’s eyes go wide.

“Careful!” He speaks up, falling into you as you tug him back.

He’s laying on top of you as you lay under him, smiling up at him.

“I can handle myself, don’t worry. Now come here.” You wrap your arms and legs around him, clinging to him like a sloth. You can’t help but giggle as he turns over, allowing you to be on top of him.

“You’re so stupid.” Shigaraki sighs, closing his eyes. You brush your nose against his, kissing the tip of his nose before burying your head into the crook of his neck.

“But you love me. And I love you too.” You kiss his neck gently, closing your eyes as you rest against him.

“I do love you.” Shigaraki’s arms are wrapped over your back, holding you down on top of him. He smiles and finally feels how tired he was.

“I’m gonna go make breakfast soon, so take a little nap okay?” You sit up and kiss his forehead.

“I can’t fall asleep without you.” Shigaraki mumbles, holding you tighter.

“This is a bad idea. I’m gonna fall back asleep too.” You mumble reaching for a blanket. Shigaraki helps cover the both of you.

“Guess we’re napping then.” Shigaraki kisses your cheek, nuzzling his head against yours.

“Guess so.” Your words are quiet as you slip back to sleep, peacefully dozing off as Shigaraki does the same.

It’s a bit of a long nap, a couple hours pass. And when you wake up, you make some food for the both of you, eating a big meal while watching a show on Netflix. The day is all about Shigaraki and so cuddles are a must when you’re finished eating.

You switch from basic cuddling to sitting in his lap, to even under his baggy t-shirt, your head poking through the head-hole, your back against his chest.

It’s a long day, but it’s spent with Shigaraki, taking care of him and showing him how much you truly adore him. And he loves it.

And at the end of the night, when you go to bed for real after gaming for an unreal amount of time, he holds you close and kisses the top of your head. You’re tuckered out completely sound asleep as he begins to doze off himself.

He loves you. He really does.

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

[julieloves074]

Out of the Darkness pt.3 (Darkling x reader story)

Lets just ignore that English is not my first language :)

“Would you rather wear my black colour instead?” his question sounding genuine but a trap all the same, he didn’t move, waiting for my answer, two could play this game.

“Have I made you speechless?” he asked. So simply.

“Well that would just be improper General,” I said taking the red kefta out of his hand with force, he latches onto it for a moment so that I can’t take it out of his hgrips, “I don’t know what I would do to thank you,” I added, with a gaze of admiration, still pulling away from the idea of battering my eyelashes, that would be too obvious, he would see right through me.

Though, his kefta did look warmer, maybe this was his autumn wear, either way, I would never wear his colours, or any colours if I could help it.

“They’re bullet proof, after transporting the sun summoner who knows when one may attack us again,” he commented, and waited until the red clothing was secured around my limbs and body before walking towards two of his soldiers, one was holding the rein of the horse behind them. A midnight black stallion, clearly pure breed.

I huffed as I brought the material forward in one rough pull, fixing the collar while I’m at it. He doesn’t looked back to me, until his body is secure on his horse.

“I will ride on horseback, and you shall be in my carriage, with two of my trusted guards,” he said turning back to me for one moment, his brave commanding voice didn’t quiver now that other first and second army eyes were us and our exchange, him mostly, but some eager eyes didn’t shy away from peeling at me, the new Grisha, that so happened to appear during the night, giving me the benefit of a doubt.

I turned back towards the carriage, looking both ways, past the stares, how else could I get away?

Only to get my arms in not so friendly hold of the guards, who somewhat forcefully push me into the carriage. The space is small, confined, the window quickly becomes a good friend of mine. With nowhere else to look the views outside are quite lovely. Forests and greenery, not much different to where I came from, but still something new.

As we dove deeper into the forest I turned to my new favourite, hated game called stop every mistake you made when you were taken into that tent. I focused on every single little detail that went wrong, I could have forced myself to say on the floor, I knew the mattress and duvet, and the fluffy blanket would lure me away in a deep world of sleep.

I did need it, but I wish I could have prevented it. Made up a plan or even just a lie.

Instead, here I am, sitting across from two soldiers in their black unfirmos, neither of them Grisha, meaning that his most trsuted Grisha were at the Little Palace with Alina, protecting and watching her, bearing in mind that the walls could protect her enough; she really seems like a bird trapped in a cage.

This is good, better than good, excellent, now I can just maybe tip the carriage, not burn it that would be a waste, but maybe just make it seem like an accident, best done during the night, slipping away unnoticed. Really uncontacted this time. I would leave the red kefta on the floor, make sure it gets in the flames, it would burn like the fire itself.

But then he’d suspect me: an inferni. I sighed but the guards weren’t really paying that much attention to me anyway. They sat their bodies square to me looking straight ahead, this is probably the only time they’ve ever been allowed to sit inside this carriage.

Instead I could slow their hearts, he wouldn’t blame it on me, he couldn’t, in his black glossy eyes I am only an inferni after all. Why would he need another inferni anyway, surely he had plenty at the palace? Unless he was really low on fire.

At the sow descend of the shadows, as the sun started to cower down I urged myself forward, my eyelids seemed awfully heavy, unlike their usually feathery float, I hoped the two men didn’t realise, I wanted to get this over with.

But they too shuffled forwards in their seats, hands on their knees. Still staring forwards, almost like gargoyles on old, gloomy caste roofs.

I’m not their prisoner, or his, or so he said. So why would they give such a care? My eyes widened, without turning to me, one of each hand goes to my wrists, entrapping me again in their will. I couldn’t slow their hearts.

“Let go of me! You have no right to me!” I screamed instead, though they did nothing more than hold onto my arms, urging me to stay in one space, to make sure I wasn’t trying to pull any tricks out of the bag.

How’d I create myself such a reputation so quickly?

In a sudden burst the carriage stopped, I couldn’t hear anything or anyone outside, as if the world had stopped, the guards faces turned alarmed, their eyes gazed around, their other arms ready to grip their weapons. Taking the initiative I shuffled backwards, pleading my hands to follow, they stayed in their grips.

Then there was a shuffle outside, footsteps, the guards didn’t even get a chance to shuffle back themselves, or grab their weapons before the door flung open, as if the wind attacked it, harshly beckoning it to open up.

Their hands rip away ferociously, so I rushed mine to wrap them around my knees in a protective position, not weak, but self-protective. Never weak. Edging away from them I painted the situation in exactly the right shades and colours.

“We’re making a stop for a few hours, then the girl rides with me,” he said sternly to the two men, giving them the look of what I would call a waring, they wouldn’t dare lay a hand on me, not when the General could make them pay for it greedily.

The two men looked to each other’s; fear blemished out of their pupils which turned smaller by every second of his stare.

I had my way, I was out of the carriage for the remainder of the journey.

He reached his gloved hand my way, I looked at his hand, then back into his eyes and then to his hand again. The other rested in the doorway of the transport, even in such a lousy position he stood taller and more proper than any man.

“Y/n?” he said, I took a breath, letting my eyes creep to the two guards again before finally accepting the General’s hand out of my seat.

The chilly air hit, like jumping into freezing water all at once. In front of me I saw what looked like an old barn, there was already movement inside, with the way the darkling’s face stayed stoic, calm I could tell that they were out people. His people.

As we were leaving the camp I wasn’t sure how many of us were travelling, it was mostly just soldiers, only two of us, the Grisha.

Landing both my feet steadily on the ground, he let go of my hand, it seemed as though he intend to glide it to my arm or lower back to guide me in but I was already ahead of him, moving towards the entrance of the barn.

Some men and women were already sitting around some sticks, the General looked to me when we sat down. This was my cue to start a fire, could it have been part of a test? Some kind of trial to see if I can even control my power.

Like a baby latching onto their parents I lit a fire in my palm, hearing it crinkle, everything else is quiet, I revel in silence, in the dark when I can pretend there is no one but I in the world. The crinkle of self awareness in a way calms me.

I throw my arms towards the wood, which then too starts to roar in flames, and suddenly nothing seems personal, I feel exposed, but open my eyes and shake off the feeling. It’s just lighting a fire, I remind myself.

Standing there for a moment I stare into the raw beaty of the red and orange dancers, the mild wind too joins in with the solstice. I avoid his stare but he finds a way to make me turn his way, he calls me over with the very movement of his body, I chose not to resist, to get any more conversation out of the way.

Most would kill to be this close to the General, and some would kill to never within a couple of miles of him ever again. I fit nowhere in that scale, which makes it even worse, he doesn’t matter to me, he doesn’t fit anywhere into my life, or my outlooks.

“Did you never want to be with the rest of us?” he asks, the concentration of pressure of the us. He didn’t sound offended or insulted by the fact that I didn’t try to find a way to be with the Grisha. He seemed genuinely confused. Like it were unusual for people with these abilities to shy away from that life.

“You could have been living with the services and care you deserve,” he continues, his voice dark in a way I wasn’t sure was possible. Many described the fold as darkness but a place, they weren’t exactly wrong, but the General’s voice was darkness if it vibrated though words.

What did he know what I deserved? It being clear he thought everyone with these skills should have everything, at least a little less than him.

“I was a run away. Never wanted anywhere, never welcome anywhere. Grisha or not I learned to live a new way, and I like living that way,” I said and it was partially true, learning a new way to live was no easy feat but the freedom was like running around a sandy beach with wind in your hair and the smell of the salty sea.

“Well, you needn’t worry about that, your wanted at Little Palace with others like you, you’re welcome there, it shall be your home,” his voice was slightly gentler, or maybe it was the new hushed tone, as if this was our secret, one that no one can know.

With that he leaped gracefully onto his feet and walked other to his soldiers, solid in his stance but passionate in his words. Just hearing him from here talking about how much he wants to help the people on both sides. For closer up he wasn’t as dark as some might have imagined.

I ended up falling asleep, the kefta was good for that remark, it wasn’t like I had anything better to do, he chose not to sleep, he just sat there, some guards napped and took turns but the General didn’t wink an eye.

We never made eye contact, I couldn’t read his face, and then again like a weak child I drifted to sleep.

For a second night in a row there was no nightmare, and there was always nightmares, they would crawl at me, in every single corner of my head and brain, until I would scream and awaken to sweating and the cold hard ground.

From then on I only allowed myself to sleep a few, a couple of hours.

It’s like my system forgot to be aware, alert.

I woke at the General telling the soldiers to get up and ready to leave, I assume he was coming to wake me up next with his loud words of a calm demeanour but I got to my feet with the left over soldiers, already turning to make my way out of the barn.

Still I had to wait next to where the horses stood because now I would ride with the General, on a horse next to him more specifically, I would escape or else I will be killed.

Once everything else is installed in its places he comes over, only his black stallion in sigh, he meant literally ride with him, now I was starting to have slight regrets. The carriage might have been a better idea.

Without a word he got on then his head turned to me and his hand followed, I rose an eyebrow but the mystic glare of his eyes and tension between his brows put me on edge.

His arms wrapped around me as he reached for the rein and then we were off, the speed felt more real here, faster, for one it might have been the fact that we were gradually losing the carriage behind us.

After getting onto the plainer field there was only us and no on else in sight. It was a quiet journey, one of which the inner of my thighs were burning, I’d never been on a horse before, family was too poor, and I never had a job.

I didn’t dare complain, his heart didn’t show a shudder of anything, but mine was much quicker, whether it was from the thrill of riding a horse or from having the black General so close to mine I would never know?

His arm hovered too closely to mine for a moment and that pass of surety surged through me, it was weird how simply he could make me feel so weak, but so powerful at once, he could make me lose control, that would end in disaster.

“Are you alright?” he asked, though with my whole body screaming for more power to rush into my palm his voice was a whisper. The words echoed around my ear, his lips so close to my ears.

I took in a low breath.

“I’m fine,” I said but he didn’t move from the close position, “Thank you,” I added and like a calling he moved his head back and I felt weak, everywhere.

How was I supposed to get away now?

Part four

[tarithenurse]

In the eyes

Fandom: Naruto Pairing: Uchiha Itachi x fem!reader Content: Feels. Angst. Loss. Love. Reference to killing (war and murder). Captivity. Sorrow. Hope. Anger. You name it, it’s there. A/N: I just want to say in my defence that this story isn’t my fault. Blame @maladaptive-ninja-returns​...it’s her birthday present (yes, I’m late)!

In the eyes

The steam is long gone together with your interest in the drink when you drain the cup of tea as the black-haired man gets up to leave. The cape hides what he’s missing – if only it was his leg instead – that way you wouldn’t have to keep the distance to the bare minimum, constantly risking him discovering that you’re following him. It doesn’t help to complain, though: he’s alive and mobile...and you have to watch your every move.

Volunteering for the assignment has probably been one of the more masochistic choices you’ve made, but you just couldn’t let the last Uchiha go yet.

For years, watching the kid grow older had kept a wound alive that no one knew about. It festered, saturating you with a sickening, rotten, sadness that never washed off but wasn’t detected by your peers. You should have let it heal. Should have moved on. But there had always been something keeping you from accepting what everyone else had decided must be true.

You weren’t the only one dealing with grief, of course. The life of a Leaf ninja was to say goodbye too soon and then to live with the numbing ache, renewed each time memories stirred.

Before the fourth war, the newfangled gossip of the dead returning was treated as ghost stories by most people until the climax of it all, when too many stood face to face with loved ones. Lost ones. And you were too weak to prevent the hope from being rekindled, so once peace was a reality and all the shinobis prepared to celebrate in the chaotic haze of the aftermath, you made a decision.

That is why, three seconds after the door closes behind Uchiha Sasuke, you get up...

...and sit right down again to avoid pressing against the sharp blade of the person suddenly appearing beside you.

The newcomer’s face is hidden partially under the wide-rimmed hat and the rest behind a dark and tattered cloak. Glancing down, a hand with purple-painted nails slips the kunai into the darkness of the cloak, leaving you with the knowledge that it’s there.

There’s no doubt in your mind that this is a shinobi. Where did you come from? Admittedly, there are others frequenting the little tea house because it’s a popular stop at a major crossroads...even if it mainly services those without national affiliations. None of the rest of the clientele reacts to the scene unfolding discreetly and you have no wish to catch their attention before you know what and who you’re dealing with.

“What do you want?”

It takes a second before you realize the question isn’t asked by you. Another one to recover from the smooth dusk that is the stranger’s voice. A voice with a hint of familiarity in the timbre which you decide must be your mind playing games.

“Nothing. I’m no enemy of yours,” you try to placate them, silently counting the seconds worth of head start separating you from Sasuke, “and I hold nothing of value...you should let me go.”

The tickle of a laugh surprises you. “If I’d wanted your possessions, they’d already be mine. I want answers, Konoha-girl.”

The headband you carry is hidden under your clothes, well out of sight from any prying eyes. Finally giving up on stalking your initial target, you turn your undivided attention to the person who has seated them-self before you.

The little skin you can see is pale, and a few black strands have escaped the slack ponytail and fallen in front of the face where only chin and jawline is visible. As if knowing your annoyance, the head is tipped slightly, allowing you to glimpse soft, gently smiling lips. Kissable. The thought jars you.

“I recommend you give up that wish.” No one should be able to hear the nervousness in your voice...but the stranger smirks. “My business is my own.”

“Not when it involves him,” they says, inclining the hat towards the door where Uchiha left.

You’re out to get him? You almost feel sorry for this fool who clearly doesn’t have a clue about the one-armed ninja’s identity.

“Don’t be mistaken,” the person smiles as if reading your thoughts, “I know who he is and what he’s capable of, after all...he’s my brother.”

Calmly meeting your gaze, the eyes meeting you flash red.

...

“Don’t look an Uchiha in the eyes”. It was the warning that was whispered into your ears as soon as you were big enough to run errands on your own. Naturally, you had to do it, and what met you was not as demonic as the warning stories had made you think – rather, they were kind, and wiser than the smooth face hinted at – although you never looked another Uchiha in the eyes just to be on the safe side.

It was impossible to discern the colour. Some days, they seemed leaden as if the rain clouds were gathered inside the boy too. A few times, in the morning when he watched where his fists struck the wood, the sparks from the cozy fire of the evening before still lingered in the warmest of black. What you loved the most, though, was when the gaze was locked onto infinity and they were soft like liquid.

...

Everything is different: the stuffy tea room with its noisy patrons has been replaced by somewhere deserted that seems to be carved out of grey stone.

How did I get here? Careful to move as little as possible, you take in the new surroundings only to find the place empty and with only one way in and out. A dull cold has already seeped into your feet as you stand there, lost as your bearings have nothing to latch on to – the only light is a torch in a wall sconce to your left.

Feet. They are bare, and a quick pat-down reveals that all of your weapons, your belt, and your headband have been stripped from you too. The sensation is uncanny, akin to nakedness. The logic behind it is obvious as it reduces the chances of a successful escape even if you were to make it out and establish a route.

On the other hand: you’re unharmed and unbound.

Turning, you have no doubt that the wooden door is locked but of course you go over to try, heart frozen near your throat when you push against it with your shoulder. Surprisingly, it does open and the screaming hinges sets the tiniest hairs on your body on end.

“Not wasting any time, Konoha-girl.”

You recognize the voice and the decorated nails on the hand that appears to pull open the door completely, and not just from the rest stop but from years of aching recollections that have been warped by watching Sasuke grow up with this man’s shadow lingering over his life. Over your life.

No. There’s no way. He died. Now your heart jackhammers a frenzied rhythm.

It’s a fool’s hope that powers the jab towards his neck. An idiot’s dream urging you to sprint past him. At least I tried, a bitter thought comments the moment both attempts are thwarted as a rib-crushing kick sends your tumbling backwards and you land sprawled in the middle of the room.

The ceiling is still spinning, it seems, when you sense the man’s presence loom over you. The fingers are cool (and surprisingly gentle) as the curl around the back of your skull, fingers digging into your hair to grant a tight grip to pull you closer by. Very close. A hand’s length separates the tips of your noses and you want to be oblivious to the way his mouth curves softly.

“You’re not leaving,” he whispers, “until I say so.”

Feeling and strength are beginning to return to your arms, including a sharp ache in your chest that grows with every shallow breath which you try to ignore. Should have restrained me, fool...and the thought dies there as everything shifts and the ground swallows your limbs.

“N-no...how...? No!”

He watches your struggles lazily before releasing his grip and sitting down next to you on the hard floor. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

But you did. Wait...no! You haven’t...it wasn’t you...it can’t have been...

“You lie about your identity,” you scoff, regretting the outburst immediately as pain stabs coldly into your side, “so excuse me for not trusting you on this either.” There is a little smile there on his lips, full of sadness and regret that makes your insides cringe momentarily until you have the breath to explain to him (or yourself) why it can’t be true: “Uchiha Itachi has been killed!”

“Yes...and then I was brought back.” He’s impossibly calm as though he’s simply discussing the weather. “Twice.”

Double reanimated? As if! The war had been a horror to live through and would have been without people facing their deceased comrades and family members on the battlefield. However, once destroyed or sealed, none of the animated dead had walked again and all of them had been dealt with properly in the end.

Looking at the ninja, none of the signs of reanimation are prominent. On the other hand...even if they had been, you might not even notice it now that you meet the man’s gaze and the liquid infinity there.

“I could show you...but I’m afraid your mind can’t take the strain in your current state,” the so-called Itachi explains.

Mind, your aching heart still reels from fear of being broken once more, this is all in my mind.

Zoning out everything else, you focus on the flow of chakra within. Calming it, soothing it, until abruptly forcing the flow to revert. It feels as if your very soul drops for a second but the moment it returns to its place, the world is no longer made up of lies and imaginary sensations...and you’re still lying on the ground in a room made of stone, your ribs feeling as if they’re speared by frost. The only improvement is that at least your limbs are free.

And Itachi? Yes, you have to call him that because deep within you can’t deny it any longer.

The official reports hadn’t been released by the time you left Konoha and you’re not high enough up in the ranks as a shinobi to get the juicy information unless it’s necessary for a mission – and since your missions tend to be B or simpler A rank...well, I guess my current mission’s a bust but this is an important discovery!

A silky chuckle refocuses your attention. “Very good...I suppose I must strengthen my genjutsu against you.”

He’s so close, you could touch him. Shifting to lean against the wall, he rests his arms casually on the knees and begins to pick at the chapping nail polish.

“No need to,” you bite back a groan as you roll over to sit up, “I take it that’s how you got me here?” Pretty eyes are watching your every move as he nods in agreement. “Hm. It’ll probably be useless to ask where we are, so...why? Why show yourself now?”

Sitting cross legged, you find the pain lessens if you pull your clothes and arms tightly around your torso, restricting the depth of your breathing. Broken or bent ribs? Not that it really matters. First of all, he would be able to beat you in a fight anyways; secondly, even if you got out of here you wouldn’t know where “here” is; and third (but not least), you don’t really want to run from him.

Rather than answer, Itachi stands up and holds out his left hand for you. Puzzled, you take it. Soft fingers curl around yours and he pulls you to your feet, studying your movements and the twisting facial expressions.

He doesn’t let go.

Not when he guides you out the door and into a hallway shaped of the same kind of stone as the room was made of. Carved from.

Not when he slows down at the sound of the squeaky breathing the pace forces from you.

There doesn’t seem to be many rooms along the winding path. Here and there a door bars the way or you catch a glimpse of a dead-end that looks as though the excavation was abandoned or even disrupted by cave-ins.

You do your best to memorize the path, but frankly, your mind is getting fuzzy from pain and exhaustion. You have no sense of time, just hunger and tiredness weighing you down to indicate the loss of many hours.

“Just a bit longer, [Y/N],” Itachi soothes.

When did I tell him my name? You want to ask or at least protest, but it would be a choice between talking or getting to wherever he’s leading you...and you doubt he’ll let you pause.

A few dozen steps later and a short flight of stairs up, he ushers you through a door into a room that looks like a mix between a kitchen and work station. A fire is the only light and heat source (the smoke venting up through a chimney too narrow to be an escape route), casting a warm glow over the solid wooden table and chairs. Everything else is hewn from whatever mountain you’re inside.

“Sit,” your captor finally releases the grip and points at a chair near the fire and you obediently do as you’re told.

There are shelves and niches almost hidden in the dancing shadows at first holding with boxes, bundles, and various utensils. He knows where everything is, grabbing a few items before returning and laying it out in the light. Bandages. His movements are fluid and elegant, just like you remembered.

He motions towards your upper body, then turns to tend to the fire. “Strip.”

“That’s really not -”

“Some of your ribs are broken. Restraining them will minimize the pain.”

He’s right. Of course he is.

With clipped movements, you pull off the layers until you hesitate at the poor excuse of a bra. Despite the now roaring fire, the cold from the stone still seeps into your body and raises waves of goosebumps and tightens your nipples. It would be easier to apply the bandages correctly without the last bit of clothing in the way, but right now it feels like the only shield left at your disposal as Itachi turns back to you.

“We’ll work around that,” the man offers softly.

He works quietly at first. Hands winding the linen bandages around you adeptly, pausing each time the ministration intensifies the pain and causes the discomfort to escape as stubborn hisses. The purple nail polish is mesmerizing – simultaneously a contrast to the horrific stories of a killer and perfectly fitting the pretty, nearly feminine, traits you see. Especially the eyes. Sure, they’re filled with a bottomless sadness that you don’t feel comfortable acknowledging, but they’re beautiful. Haunting.

“You’re staring,” he hums without looking up.

Shit. “No. I just -...let’s say you’re who you claim to be,” you try to recover, “why’re you back?”

“To be his watcher.”

“Says who?”

This time, he stops and looks you dead in the eyes. “Otsutsuki Hagoromo, the Sage of Six Paths.” There are very few proper comebacks to that, so your captor continues without giving you a chance to think of something, “Otsutsuki told me about the bonds of families and that it can transcend blood. He knows hatred can cause – and has caused – too much harm...but something rekindled his hope that it can be overcome.“

I don’t have an eye on Uchiha constantly, but... “Does Sasuke know?” Returning to his work, Itachi avoids your gaze. “He doesn’t...”

“He’s finally found peace and is on the right path...I can’t risk undoing it.”

Bullshit! “Or you’re a coward who doesn’t have the guts to fa-” the rest is cut off as soft fingers tighten around your throat.

Blood-red eyes pierce your mind, numbing you for an eternity or a millisecond.

...

They were a means to reach the goal but their words still hurt as you followed meekly in their footsteps. Snobbery. Disdain. Considering how proud your two team members clearly felt, they had very little to show for their reputation as Uchihas and frankly, it was your skills rather than theirs that ensured successful missions and still, you never once looked them in their face. Instead, you kept an eye out for two other of the clan.

Where one was, so would the other be. Thick as thieves, the boys had found a companionship that complemented their differences in the same manner as the sun and the moon. But as opposed to your teammates who swooned at the brightness of the sun, you were drawn to the night and the calmness it brought whenever that boy was near – each time he met your eyes, time became meaningless.

...

The two of you sit in silence as the steam from the soup caresses your face. Your mind is blank, slowly starting to pick up on the absence of stone walls – wood has replaced the cold surfaces, making it almost unbearably warm with the bandages underneath your layers of clothes – and a plethora of questions begin to press against your conscious only to be held back as most of your thoughts get derailed whenever you look at the man before you.

Without the hat and cloak to conceal him, it’s impossible to ignore all the details you’ve nurtured in your memory for ages, such as the slight pull of his lips as he thinks or the elegance of his movements now that he gets up and refills his bowl from the pot hanging over the fire.

“Why are you following Sasuke?”

You should be diplomatic. “I could ask you the same.” You’re not.

“I already told you,” Itachi shrugs.

“Well I...I don’t believe you.”

But you do. There’s no denying anymore that this man is who he claims to be and so, why would he lie about his purpose? The sad smile. The quiet mannerisms. The idea that Itachi would somehow transcend death to watch over his little brother? That’s a mysterious intricacy that fits with your memories of him from before that night.

“You do...but something else is bothering you.” It’s a statement, not a question. “Am I not what you expected?”

No, you’re not. However, he’s what you remember with a layer of sorrow added on top. He doesn’t get to be sad. The little spark of anger is what you need. You nurse it, feed it until it flares up hot and bright and consumes your regrets and self-pity.

“Expected? I don’t know what I expected from someone like you!” Your voice is rising, shaking with years of frustration. “Clan killer. Murderer. I never told anyone but I was in love with an Uchiha! That night, I’d gone to bed, finally sure that I was gonna tell him but when I woke up...” Something inside you had broken that day and it still hurts now. “They told me how you’d left Sasuke alive...but the boy I loved was gone and no one knew I was mourning. Each time I saw him -” you can’t hold back a strangled sound and you realize, you’re crying -”I saw the ghost of...” The bowl of floating vegetables looks blurry until you blink angrily. ��Ugh! But what does a teenager know of love, right? They’ll grow up. Get over it. Except I knew you were out there still and that you had all the answers. Why? The Itachi I remember wasn’t a mindless monster! I was told a story, but it doesn’t make any sense. If all the monster wanted was power then why spare Sasuke? Why did everyone else have to die?”

The inhalations are shallow and rapid, making you dizzy as you cling to the table and the spoon. It burns in your lungs and cheeks.

“I am sorry for the pain, I’ve caused you.”

Your gaze snaps to his face and you know he’s speaking the truth but it doesn’t matter right now.

“Sorry? Sorry?! You don’t get to be sorry! I missed y-...the boy, I loved was gone and it took ages before I could let go and stop mourning, finally accepting the truth had died with you and now...now you’re here? And it’s all back and I don’t understand! How could you?” Itachi doesn’t flinch as you launch the bowl towards him – he doesn’t have to because your aim is off and it clatters to the floor in a shower of shards and wasted food after hitting the wall behind him. “How? The boy I loved was not a monster! He wouldn’t do what they s-”

The echoes of your wheezing shouts ring through the room after the abrupt stop. Holding your breath, you wait for the ground to swallow you whole or for the man at the other end of the table to react and the fear is colder than the burning in your chest.

“Things aren’t always what they seem,” Itachi eventually whispers, “they were just people who had been wronged and misguided until their arrogance made them blind.”

What? That’s not exactly what you had expected. Without explaining further, your captor gets up, handing you his bowl of food before beginning to clean the mess you’ve made.

“Don’t...I’ll get tha-” you begin.

He only has to look at you.

...

The dew had soaked your toes, cooling and soothing them after each kick that you landed on the wood stump. Pine. The new splinters refreshed the scent as they fell to the ground and you knew that birds would rummage through them in the hope of finding a morning snack once the training grounds were free of people again – they were already gathering at the edge of the clearing except for where Itachi stood.

The realization made you stop mid-kick, gaze locked with his and heart fluttering in your chest. How long had he stood there?

“They’re wrong.” You could barely believe he was talking to you. “Your teammates...don’t listen to what they say.”

Before you could ask what he meant, Itachi was gone and maybe it had all been your imagination running free.

...

Sitting up abruptly, it takes a few seconds for your eyes to get used to the low light of the dying embers. Where am I?

Salt and drying seaweed is heavy in the air, somehow worming its way into what appears to be yet another room of stone. No...it’s a cave. You’re sitting on a bedroll splayed out onto the sand filling the place and you have no memory of arriving.

The dark form on the other side of the fire pit makes no move as you slip a hand underneath your shirt to confirm what you already know: the bandages are gone and there’s only a muted tenderness as you prod at the ribs. How long has it been?

“You’re safe,” Itachi’s gentle voice assures, and you feel your pulse slow despite the ominous situation, “go back to sleep.”

Yes. Sleep...hang on! Shaking your head, you fight the urge to succumb to the fuzziness that weighs your thoughts. “Why’re you doing this?” you mumble.

It doesn’t make sense why the man wouldn’t simply get the answers he want and then dispose of you or at the very least leave you locked up somewhere while he keeps following Sasuke from the shadows. Instead, your captor has put an effort into keeping you comfortable. Feeding you.

“I remember you.” His eyes reflect the red coals as they burn into your soul all over again. “Memories don’t do your justice, though.”

...

There is no world beyond the walls of the garden but a red sheet of sky dotted with storm clouds. The sliding doors have been pushed aside, opening the hallway to the view, and you know the wood beneath your bare feet should be silky from decades of use. You can’t feel it. There are no scents either, no breeze to toy with the soft fabric of your yukata, nor insects clicking from the rhododendron.

“This isn’t real.”

“No,” Itachi confirms from behind you, “but here I can create what you need. Who you need.”

Turning at last, there’s no reason to shy away from meeting his gaze even if it matches the fake sky. He looks real – as opposed to the familiarity of the home of your childhood that surrounds the two of you – and the ghost of a smile kindly tries to hide the sadness.

“...need. For what?”

The black strands falling into his face are strangely dull in the nightmarish light. “Closure.”

“That’s not possible.”

Wanting to leave, to run away and avoid what Itachi intends, you find yourself rooted in place by an invisible force. Even turning your face away is impossible and you pray that he doesn’t understand the well of emotions he must be able to see in your eyes.

“This is a chance for you to say goodbye to the one I killed. The one you...love,” he pauses to scrutinize your expression and you try to remain neutral, “because you do. You still love him.”

“You have no right...” swallowing hard, you fight to keep the words back, “no right t-to claim to know what I need!” Finally, you manage to close your eyes but they snap open again at the touch of his fingertips on your forehead. “This isn’t something you get to fix like -”

...

The world has shifted again and you’re back in the ocean side cave. You can feel how uneven the sand is under your knees and shins even with the bedroll to soften the press and some some the grains have found their way in between your toes...but none of that matters because Itachi is still right before you, his fingers gently resting on your brow.

A pop-and-crackle from the fire pit is the only sound other than your shallow breathing. You know, he knows. Eyes widened in nigh-comedic understanding, it’s as if he sees you for the first time.

“I’m sorry, [Y/N].”

You barely manage to whisper, “for what?”

His fingertips send shivers along your spine as they trace a path, allowing him to cradle the back of your neck in his palm.

“Everything” Itachi’s lips brush your cheek, “for breaking your heart in so many ways and for making you think your love was unrequited.”

[alisonsfics]

Keeping Secrets

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Reader

Request: “Can I request a Derek one, where the reader and Derek are together and both work for BAU and they are on a case where a whole family was murdered including the children, and it's hard for reader to keep her emotions in because she recently found out she was pregnant but hasn't told Derek yet and only JJ knows.” - @lovingthereign25

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: case details

The team was currently on the jet, flying to the next case that had been assigned to, in Cleveland, Ohio. Hotch handed out the case files to everyone. You opened it and saw a picture of a family that had been murdered, brutally.

“Oh my god” you exclaimed, under your breath as you quickly closed the file. It wasn’t like you were some monster that didn’t normally get affected by crime scene photos, but currently it affected you a bit more than usual.

You were pregnant. The only one who knew was JJ. You and Derek, your boyfriend of three years, had been trying to have kids for a while. When you found out, you were absolutely ecstatic.

You wanted to tell Derek more than anything in the world, but you just wanted to tell him in the most perfect way you could. You wanted it to be special, so you had waited.

But, when you were sitting in your bathroom, tearing up. You had to call someone to share the good news with, so you called JJ. You had made her promise to not tell Derek, and currently he had no idea.

Derek, who was sitting next to you, saw your reaction to the picture. He placed one hand on your thigh and began to rub his thumb in a circle, attempting to calm you down. Derek was always hyper aware of how you were feeling, and he was always there to make sure you were okay.

The team began talking about the details of the case, and you eventually were able to look at the picture. That didn’t mean that it didn’t create a giant pit in your stomach, because it definitely still did that.

The team arrived at the police station and began to set up your room. “JJ and Y/N, I want you to go to interview a relative of the family. She’s the grandmother of the children, on the maternal side” Hotch told you, before leaving the room.

You felt like you were going to puke. You couldn’t fathom the idea of talking to a woman who had just lost her daughter and her grandchildren.

You left the room with JJ and she pulled you to the side. “I can take someone else, if you don’t feel up to it” she told you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I can still do my job” you assured her.

Your biggest fear is that the team would treat you differently once they found out you were pregnant.

“Y/N, you could barely stand to look at the crime scene photos. That doesn’t make you any less of an agent, just stay here” JJ told you, encouragingly.

“Okay” you said, walking back into the room. “Hey Derek, can you go with JJ? I have a theory that I want to run over with Spencer” you said, completely lying. Derek gave you an unsure look, but agreed.

Once he left, Spencer and Emily were the only two in the room with you. “Are you okay? You seemed different on the plane” Spencer asked you. “Yeah, I don’t know why, but this case just feels different. I can barely stand to look at those pictures. I wasn’t the right person to talk to the family” you told them, being partially honest. You knew exactly why this case felt different.

The three of you started to work on a preliminary profile. You three had come up with a few theories, but nothing seemed to fit perfect yet. Until, you finally had an idea. You were about to call Hotch and tell him you were ready to deliver the profile, when Derek walked in the room with JJ.

The both seemed frustrated and defeated, and you couldn’t figure out why. “What’s going on?” Spencer asked you, also noticing the shift in their behavior.

“Another family was just found murdered in their home. The unsub has completely changed tactics. They were precise before and now they were messy. None of our profile fits” Derek said, sighing.

You felt nauseous. While the team had been struggling to come up with a profile, another family had lost their lives. It was hard to not blame yourself, maybe if you had figured it out sooner, they would still be here.

You could feel yourself starting to tear up, you tried to calm yourself down, but you just couldn’t.

The only thing you could imagine was the fear that those children must of felt. Or the terror the parents must have had watching their children in pain. It broke your heart.

How were you supposed to bring a child into this world when you knew about how evil this world really was?

“Y/N, you okay?” Emily asked you, noticing how upset you looked. “Umm yeah, I just need a minute” you said, turning to leave the room. “Y/N, wait” Derek said, walking over to you. JJ tried to stop him, but he pushed past her and followed you out of the room.

“You don’t have to do this, go help the rest of the team. I’ll be fine, Derek” you told him, not trying to be dismissive, but you knew you couldn’t tell him the real reason. “Something is up with you, I know something is going on. Just let me help you” he told you, interlacing your fingers.

“Why does something have to be going on. I got emotional looking at crime scene photos, okay? Children were murdered, that isn’t okay. I think I had a pretty normal reaction to seeing something like that” you said, defensively.

“Come on, let’s go talk” Derek said, putting his arm around your shoulders and walking into an abandoned conference room.

“Talk to me” he told you. You didn’t know what to say. You couldn’t get those children’s faces out of your mind. “They were too young” you whispered, finally letting your walls fall down.

“I know, and we are doing everything we can to catch this sick bastard and make him pay for what he did to those families. But I have to know what’s going on with you” he told you, holding both of your hands. “You want to know what’s going on? While we were here, failing to come up with a profile, this guy took more innocent lives” you said, emotionally.

By now, you were on the verge of completely starting to cry. Derek pulled you into his arms and held you tightly. “Shhh it’s okay. I know you’re upset, but you cannot blame yourself. You can blame the unsub and be really angry at him, we all are. But don’t blame yourself” he told you, reassuringly.

After you had calmed down, Derek pulled away from you. “Are you really okay?” He asked you, sincerely wanting to know. “Yes, I’m fine. Let’s get back in there, I want to catch this guy” You told him, wiping the tears from your face.

Derek didn’t really seem convinced by your answer, but he knew that you would tell him when you were ready. You both rejoined the team and began to work more on the profile. By the end of the day, you had brought in a suspect for questioning.

You were in the conference room when Hotch and Rossi brought him in the front door of the police station. You felt a mixture of emotions. You slightly felt relieved because you may have caught the guy that committed these crimes. You also felt disgusted looking at someone that could have committed unspeakable crimes.

You, Derek, Spencer, JJ, and Emily were all standing outside of the interrogation room when the suspect confessed the crimes to Hotch. You started to feel the tears in your eyes again. The way the unsub talked about his crimes with a smile on his face made you sick to your stomach.

You tried to discreetly wipe the tears from your eyes, but you were unsuccessful. Derek noticed right away, but didn’t want to make a scene.

He put his arm around you and led you back into the room the team had set up in. It was now empty because everyone was watching the interrogation.

“I know you better than anyone and I know something is wrong. You’ve been acting off all day. What aren’t you telling me, babygirl?” He asked you, concerned.

“I’m pregnant” you blurted out, not being able to conceal it anymore. Derek just stared at you, not being able to comprehend what you had just told him. But after a few seconds, he had cupped your face.

“Are you really pregnant?” He asked you, in complete shock. He had a single tear rolling down his cheek. You just nodded and smiled at him.

He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a hug. He held you tighter than he ever had before. “I can’t believe this! This is the best day of my life” he whispered, as he held you close. He stroked your hair and you could tell he was starting to cry.

“I’m sorry I waited so long to tell you, but I wanted it to be perfect” you told him, honestly. He pulled away from you and cupped your face again. “It is perfect, in every way” he said, kissing you.

You could feel some of his tears fall onto your face. Derek smiled as he kissed you and eventually pulled away. “We’re going to be parents, babygirl” he said, with a smile on his face. He kissed you on the forehead and pulled you in for another hug.

“Are you happy?” You asked him, as you both pulled away. “Are you kidding? I am thrilled, I’m through the roof” he said, picking you up and spinning you around.

Then, the rest of the team walked in the room and had confused expressions. “What’s going on here?” Rossi asked you, chuckling to himself, just from looking at the goofy grins on both your faces. You looked over at Derek, nonverbally asking if you could tell them.

He nodded and smiled at you. “We’re having a baby” you exclaimed, smiling at the team as you watched their faces of shock. Slowly, each one of their faces lit up.

“Congratulations” they all said. Emily was the first one to pull you into a hug. “All of you, come here” you said, and soon you were surrounded by all our your best friends in a massive group hug.

You all finally pulled away from each other. “So how are you feeling?” Spencer asked you, smiling at you. “I feel fine, I haven’t had any morning sickness or anything yet. But we could not be more excited” you said, as Derek put his arm around your waist and pulled you into his side.

You looked up at your boyfriend, who was beaming, and the rest of the team, who were all smiling, even Hotch, and you felt truly content. Everything felt perfect and at peace.

taglist: @reniescarlett @thelovelyrose @shyinadarkplace @azghedaheda @millipop18 @airiloveskuromi-chan @ssareidbby

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for all my imagines or for a specific character!!

Requests OPEN

[hxt1b]

Click Click

Doyoung x Reader 

Genre: Slight Angst, Slight Mature Theme 

Words: 937 

Masterlist

“Lean back maybe?” You said moving back from him. Doyoung leaned into the railing, an intimidating look on his face. You didn’t mind taking pictures for him. Typically. 

However, he was being difficult today. You weren’t a professional photographer but for some reason, your boyfriend was expecting professional-level work. He was very particular about his Instagram and you got that but this was a lot today. 

He sighed after you took a couple of pictures for him, walking over to him he took the phone from you and flipped through the photos. You could tell he wasn’t pleased, his face wasn’t giving much away but the way his eyes narrowed slightly. You could just tell. 

He moved to give you the phone back and you groaned. 

“I’ve taken a hundred photos for you at this point Doyoung. Everyone else is off actually doing fun things.” You motioned with your hand towards Mark and Haechan who were standing in line to play a game. “I didn’t come to the festival with you all just to be your photographer.” 

“Okay okay come on, just one more.” He whined. 

“No Doyoung, I’m going over there,” You pointed to Mark and Haechan, “To play the game with them you can come if you want to.” and with that, you started to walk off. 

“Well if you had taken them properly we wouldn’t have had to take this many.” He mumbled it under his breath, you weren't supposed to hear, but you did. Your steps faltered slightly, a flash of quick anger slipping through your brain but you took a breath and continued towards the boys.  

For the rest of your time at the festival you hung out with everyone but him, you didn’t want to fight about something like this, especially not in front go everyone so you just stayed away from him. You tried your best to have fun, you’d say you partially succeeded. 

At the end of the day after the sun had set and everyone was heading home. Doyoung decided that he’d drop you at your apartment while the others went to the dorm. You didn’t object but you didn’t agree. The cab ride to your apartment was silent, him not making any move to say anything to you. You looked out the window until the car came to halt outside your building. Quickly getting out you made a beeline to the entrance, Doyoung right at your heels. 

“I know your upset with me.” He said as you pushed the button calling the elevator. You rolled your eyes. It’s not like it was hard to figure that out.  “Please don’t be mad at me baby.” He grabbed your wrist as the elevator door opened. You didn’t yank out of his grasp just shot him a look over your shoulder. 

The elevator was empty and when the door closed, Doyoung took over your space. 

“I’m sorry for annoying you.” His hand was still holding your wrist while the other one came up beside your head, he boxed you into the corner. You could feel his breath on the side of your face. 

‘You didn’t annoy me.” You said and pushed him away from you slightly. “You pissed me off. First, you made me take pictures of you that you weren’t happy with. Then you blamed me for them being bad. I’m not a professional I can just click a button. Also, I spent so much time just taking pictures of you that I didn’t even get to do everything I wanted.” 

He looked down at you with an apologetic expression on his face. The elevator came to a stop and you pushed past him as the doors opened on your floor. You fished your keys out of your bag as you got to your door opening it and going in. 

“I am sorry for doing that.” He said after he closed the apartment door behind him. You looked at him from where you were standing in the living room. Your anger and irritation were gone, he looked upset. You opened your mouth to say something to him but in two long strides, he had you in his arms. Pulling you into him. 

“What can I do to make it up to you?” You tilted your head up towards his still wrapped up in his arms. Your lips hover right by his. You could feel his breath fanning your face. You didn’t say anything back and pressed your mouth to his. 

The kiss was instantly fast and heated, Doyoung’s hand moving to the side of your face while the other one stayed on your waist he took a step forward moving you back and groaned into the kiss. When the back of your legs hit the couch he pulled away from you. Breathing heavily he looked down at you. 

“Take this off.” He yanked at the bottom of your shirt. You moved your arms up letting him move the shirt up your body. The shirt was quickly tossed to the side as he returned to your lips kissing you with more intensity than before. 

He pushed you onto the couch so that you were laying down. You were breathing hard, and shivered. He was hovering above you, his eyes dark as he looked down at you. 

“You’re perfect.” He said and dove down to your neck. Moving his lips over the most sensitive part earning a moan from you. 

“Why don’t you let me take pictures of you now.” Your breath stuttered as the words left his mouth and he slipped his hand behind your back to unhook your bra. 

[punkpoemprose]

A Convenient Arrangement Part 9

Universe: Canonverse Arranged Marriage AU Rating: T Length: 6514 Words A/N: It’s been a while, I probably still won’t be updating regularly because I’m busy, but here’s something for now. P.S. asks & comments are very much appreciated, nice comments make me feel like writing every time I get them, but please don’t ask when I’m going to update. I don’t have answers for you.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8]

Kristoff felt uncomfortable to say the least. He was standing still while a stranger and his party of assistants measured him, held fabrics up toward him, and made comments on his physique both complimentary and, well, he couldn’t really say that the rest were meant to be kind. He wasn’t used to people who said things but didn’t say them straight, and while he was sure that “it’s like dressing a bull” wasn’t meant to be directly insulting, it also wasn’t quite a compliment either. He’d never been particularly ashamed of the way he looked, but he was being made certain from the commentary that he wasn’t built for whatever the “fashionable” silhouette was.

He wanted to walk away, to say that he’d wear his own clothes and to tell them exactly where they could shove their measuring tapes. He hadn’t exactly expected a “professional tailoring” to be a fun experience by any stretch of the imagination, but he also wasn’t prepared to be someone’s dressing doll. They hadn’t asked him his opinion on anything, and he wasn’t sure if that was a blessing, or whether it meant they were going to dress him like some kind of dandy who’d never spent a day of his life working.

“The yellow silk?”

He closed his eyes, just so he didn’t have to see whatever they were up to. Whatever it was involved tassels.

He could only distract himself by thinking of something else, by going inside himself and putting his mind to use imagining himself somewhere, anywhere else. He wondered how often he’d need to do such a thing, now that he was prince consort to the crown princess of Arendelle and soon to be some sort of aristocrat given lands and titles to justify his marriage. He couldn’t help but wish that he could just go back to the mountain and be away from all the new responsibilities his marriage to Anna had foisted upon him.

He had no objections to his duties to her, but to the court and the country, was another point entirely. He liked to think of himself as a good citizen of Arendelle. He paid his taxes, he worked hard, he tried his best to help his fellow man where and when he could, but he wasn’t built for pomp and circumstance. He wasn’t even built for suit fittings.

He let his thoughts drift away from the room, pushing all worries of brocade and buttons out of his mind, and landing himself back into memories of the early morning and being in bed with Anna. It was the easiest to imagine, the quickest way to relax.

He remembered waking up at first light with the gentle pressure of her body against his, the sheets tangled around them from their turning and shifting in the night. She’d fallen asleep on his chest, and when he woke, he’d been holding her there. Her hair had been partially in his face, fanned out across his chest and over his arm. While she had still been asleep, he’d carefully brushed it away from his face. While smoothing it under his hand, his heart raced over the intimacy of the action and the fear that she might wake up and tell him to stop.

He didn’t think that she would have asked him to, not when she so often was the one touching him first, reaching out for his hand, but after their conversation the night before he was worried. She didn’t trust him completely despite the strides they’d made, and despite the fact that she’d apparently vouched for him with her sister. He couldn’t blame her really, especially not after hearing all the ways in which her trust had been broken in the past.

Give her time. Give her love.

He could imagine his mother giving him the advice. He was far from a love expert himself and his family was a bit overzealous in their love and support, but he thought that maybe taking their advice and running it through his filter first might produce a kind of logic. Imagining what his mother might say about how he should treat his wife was probably a good place to start.

He’d give Anna all the time she needed. This was new for them both, but he was already believing that she might be his other half, that fate brought them together as mad as it sounded. So he knew that she was worth the wait. He already saw the little ways he was falling in love with her.

After he’d moved her hair, he’d enjoyed resting with her in his arms, feeling the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed with him. He’d felt her rouse, but didn’t say a word. He’d known that once they left bed, he was unlikely to see her for the rest of the day. Kai had him scheduled for several meetings and lessons and tours, and Anna, regardless of the promise made to them of no joint duties for a week, certainly had responsibilities of her own to attend to. He still didn’t know what they were, but he knew she must have some. Someday he would too.

He missed her already. He missed the rightness he felt while holding her close. He missed the way that she made him feel almost comfortable in the palace walls even while he was under the scrutiny of those who didn’t think he belonged.

He didn’t belong, of course. Being her husband gave him a reason to live in the castle, it gave him station, but it didn’t make him belong. Standing where he was now, walking through the hallways to get to the room without her by his side, constantly needing to check the little map she’d drawn for him, had made that abundantly clear. He wished he had it in him to announce to the room, to everyone who looked at him sideways, that he hadn’t asked for this, and that they could trade places with him if they preferred, but he couldn’t say it.

He couldn’t even offer a single breath to the idea that it would be anyone else at Anna’s side.

He may not be royal by anything but marriage but holding her made him feel like he was exactly where he needed to be.

He’d held onto her as long as he could in bed, not telling her that he was awake even though he knew that she was.  He remembered her snort-laugh when he’d told her that he’d pretended to be asleep this time. He hadn’t said that he’d do it again to just hold her a little longer.

He remembered the way she’d nuzzled her face into his chest and murmured about breakfast without making any moves to leave him for a long while. They may have never moved, but of course a knock had eventually come, summoning them both from bed. They’d broken their fast together in relative quiet, the silence only broken by the sounds of silverware clinking, and he’d felt like he’d wanted to say something, catching her staring at him every now and then, but he didn’t have the words to say what he was feeling. He still wasn’t sure of what it was he had been feeling.

Domesticity? Comfort? Love?

None of the words fit. Not yet at least, though he’d like for them to be the right words someday.

Another knock had come and interrupted the quiet meal, and with the quick scurrying and whispering of an anxious looking maid, Anna had excused herself from the table. She’d given him a look that he registered as a sort of longing, he only knew it as such because she gave the same look to her bacon, and then she was gone.

A knock came again, this time in the present, pulling him from his recent memories abruptly.

“My Lord?”

It was Kai, and in a short a time as Kristoff had known the man, he had never been so grateful for his appearance as he was now. Which was saying something given he and Anna were thus far the only people who didn’t make him feel like a complete outsider.

He met the man’s eye and, reminded by his presence that he needed to at least feign manners, only gave him a somewhat subtle look of “save me”.

Blessedly Kai obliged.

“His lordship is needed elsewhere. Please collect your things so that we might have the room to discuss his next appointment for the day.”

The older man turned toward the tailor and his staff and with a look that clearly said “now” sent them all scrambling to pick up fabrics and tapes and bits of paper. When they dispersed, the heavy oak door closing behind them with a thud, Kristoff let his shoulders slump. The sigh that he let out was unintended, but hardly unwarranted.

He took a deep breath that was his first in what felt like hours.

“A bit much, weren’t they sir?”

Kristoff examined the old man, gazing at the scowl of distaste on his face, directed at the door. He knew that his status as his valet was a temporary one, but he couldn’t help but feel that he was exactly the sort of person he’d like in his corner in the long term.

“That’s an understatement.”

Kai gave a bit of a wry smile before recomposing himself and appearing more regretful than amused.

“His father was the royal tailor to the King, a very noble and understated older gentleman who listened more than he spoke. He made the most excellent suits.”

He looked down at his own jacket for a moment, adjusting the sleeve as if he were recalling a garment from an earlier time and in doing so, found his current attire not quite up to snuff. Kristoff had felt similarly in his wedding clothes, recalling the way he could only compare them to his more comfortable daily wear.

“The Queen and Princess have a dressmaker in their employ who is similarly talented and reserved,” Kai continued, bringing his attention back to Kristoff and meeting his eye with another apologetic gaze, “Unfortunately, on such short notice we relied on the assumption that the young tailor would be like his father in manner, which is clearly not the case. I apologize. Perhaps we can find someone else, but given the short notice…”

He knew that Kai was implying that they were out of options unless he had a better one. It felt strangely like a test in ways Kristoff couldn’t quite put his finger on, almost as if Kai were trying to determine something about him from the uncomfortable situation.

Kristoff didn’t take more than a moment of thought before interrupting, “There’s a tailor in the market I usually buy from, he does good work. He has my measurements already. His wife is pregnant, he could use the money.”

Kristoff didn’t expect Kai to grin. He was already mentally admonishing himself for interrupting, but the balding old gentleman simply nodded.

Whatever the test had been, he’d passed.

Maybe royals are meant to be contrary. I’ve always been good at that.

“Nilsson. I don’t know his first name. He’s got a market stall but does almost all the work out of his house by the docks. He’s got a slate out front, pretty easy to find if you’re looking for it.”

Kai pulled a paper and pencil from somewhere on his person and against his palm, quickly jotted the notes. Kristoff wondered if that level of efficiently was born or made. He’d always been proud of his own ever evolving competence in his work, but he never thought that he’d be ready for anything in the way Kai seemed to be.

“I’ll see that he is made aware of your lordship’s request and that he understands the quality required. Are there any specific requests you have for fabric or color?”

Kristoff looked from the man to the door and back again.

“No yellow silk.”

***

Anna wasn’t wholly certain as to why she was feeling so nervous. She’d sent Kai after Kristoff only a few minutes before, evidently interrupting his whole schedule though he hadn’t said anything about it. Anna just knew the man well enough that when she saw him pull a pencil and a folded paper from his pocket that he was rearranging a schedule. She remembered him crossing off sections of the page like he had for her father before.

No matter how much everything changes, some things stay the same.

She couldn’t help but wonder if he was enjoying assisting Kristoff. Soon enough he’d be Elsa’s personal counsel again, but Anna liked to think that he was enjoying the sort of daily trials and tribulations that were coming with helping her husband.

She’d been too high strung after her meeting with Elsa to be much use in focusing on anything let alone tracking someone down, but now it was at least a little bit relaxing to move her thoughts people instead of the stress of upcoming responsibilities.

When Elsa had sent a maid to fetch her in the middle of breakfast she had, of course, been up for hours and as such had already eaten. Anna suspected that her sister never actually slept and that it was the answer for why she was always up and ready for the day at the crack of dawn.

She hadn’t been more than half awake when she was taken from her bacon and from Kristoff’s quiet company. She’d been promised a week by her sister, one week of no duties, but that wasn’t exactly true. It had been more like one week with no scheduled duties, just meetings when the occasion arose, as it had in the middle of breakfast.

“Anna,” her sister had said, looking a bit tired which reminded Anna that her sister was indeed human after all, “I’m planning a party.”

That had been all that was required to shock Anna into full consciousness.

She may as well be running off to join the circus for how like her that is.

“You didn’t get an engagement party and we want the citizens to be able to celebrate the wedding, so the council requested that I announce a festival in your honors.”

That had made more sense, but now, standing alone in the library, trying to distract herself by staring at the shelves upon shelves of books before her, she wondered why exactly a party was needed at all. She appreciated her sister’s interest in her input about the colors and the food and the events, and she knew that it was meant to be an apology of sorts for the fact that she’d had no control over her wedding, but Anna also wasn’t ready for another big event.

She’d only promised Kristoff a week without duties, and they were now getting a full month. Somehow it didn’t seem to be a balm in her mind. She hated the idea that they would soon need to be a public spectacle, that they would be watched and commented on. She hated the thought of watching Kristoff shrink away like he had in the kitchens, that he might think again that he didn’t belong when all she wanted was for him to feel right when he was at her side.

She could hear the talk of the town in her ear, not truly there, but just as real in her head as if there was some chatty merchant’s daughter at her back.

They had to steal him from the mountains to marry her, who wants used goods?

To her right she could hear her giggling friend.

So sad, isn’t it? Poor man.

To her left, not in her imagination, but in reality, was a cold and empty hearth with a settee between her and it. Her hands shook at her sides as she tried to focus on anything but the creeping sensation of frost in her chest that she knew was only in her head.

Why did I choose the library? Of all places, why did I decide to tell him about the festival in the library.

She clenched her fists, closed her eyes and breathed.

The girls slipped away, the empty fireplace remained out of sight, but as she focused on her inhalation the icy sensation left. She smelled parchment and dust, felt the warmth of light streaming in from the nearby window, and let herself remember years of pulling books from the shelves written in various languages and staring at pictures before she could read them herself. The memories of her youngest days came clearer now that she was free to recall them.

I loved it here once.

She felt him enter her space.

Despite the bulk of him she hadn’t heard him approach, but she could feel the tension in her body release when he surreptitiously slid into the space at her left side, putting more space between her and the fireplace, bumping his hand into hers casually.

She experimentally opened her palm, slowly uncurling her fingers, and felt the last of the unease roll out of her muscles when he slipped his hand over hers, palm to palm. He wasn’t holding her hand, his fingers barely brushing hers, but she found it comforting.

She could hardly call herself knowledgeable about affection, but she was learning that this was Kristoff’s way of showing it. They hadn’t said anything about love. It didn’t make sense to yet, they were intimate strangers, they were a paradox, but where he couldn’t say love he showed it.

She wondered when she’d be able to show him in return. It had been so easy to pretend the night before. She wanted to be able to open up to him more, but every time she wanted to the what ifs got in the way.

You need to stop doubting yourself.

But a lack of self-doubt, her reckless willingness to believe in the best of people and that she deserved a happy ending had almost ruined everything once. She was afraid it risk it again.

“Want me to come back in a bit?”

His voice was low, soft. He could already read her so well, but he was still working out how to react to her feelings. She wondered how he could be so understanding of her needs after spending so many years alone. She had a hard enough time understanding how she felt lately let alone comprehending how others did. Even as empathetic as she was, she felt like she was always missing the cues that he was seemingly catching without a second glance.

She slipped her fingers between his, moving slowly and focusing on the secure feeling it gave her to have his hand locked against hers by the connection.

“No, I’m sorry, I was just thinking.”

She opened her eyes and saw the concern in his gaze when she met his eye. It made her feel simultaneously guilty and vindicated, like his understanding that there was something wrong justified her feelings. She did feel bad for making him worry about her though. She didn’t want him to go anywhere just because she was battling with herself.

After a few moments of quiet, he spoke, “Kai filled me in on the way over. A festival?”

She sighed and nodded, glad that she wasn’t the first to tell him about it. She wasn’t sure that she’d be able to express the positives about such a thing when she was already so focused on the negatives.

He didn’t look particularly upset about the event, which surprised her. She recalled how he’d been in front of the crowd at their wedding, stiff and uncomfortable. She didn’t really want to put him in that situation again, but he didn’t seem to share the same opinion.

“Yes.  There was a council decision that we should do something for the people at large because most of them couldn’t attend the wedding. They’re curious about us.”

Kristoff nodded. He seemed relaxed and at least accepting if not a bit interested about the matter.

“It makes sense. It’s been a long time since there’s been a real festival. Most times someone will put on something for the holidays, but the big festivals haven’t gone on in years. I can only just barely remember what they were like when I was a kid.”

That’s because they died with my parents.

It felt strange to think of it, that there hadn’t been festivals in years. Even before her parents had passed away, the events had been a shadow of what they were when she was young. She wished she had a better memory of them now, how the festivals used to be, how her parents used to greet the people and dance. It was mostly a blank, interjected with what she’d been told about sweets and dancing and music by others. She supposed it was normal to not remember much from her toddler years, but she longed to know what it would be like, if only to know what to be prepared for.

Kristoff would remember a little more than she would, but he wasn’t that much older than her really. She wondered if the trolls had their own festivals and celebrations and whether he’d tell her about them if she asked.

It was still strange for her to think about sometimes. That her husband was raised by the very trolls that had locked away her memories, that under different circumstances they may have met as children and that it could have changed everything if she had.

She didn’t know what it would have done in the long run. She didn’t know if they’d have been happier if their stories had played out differently, but as he held her hand, she knew that she wouldn’t want to turn back the clock even if she could. As messed up as everything was, she wasn’t alone, and his willingness to stand there with her, to try for her, was more than she’d ever had with anyone.

“Is it what you want?” he asked, seeming to take her dour expression as an indication that she didn’t want the party.

All I wanted for years was a celebration, people, music, and dancing. I wanted any of it. I wanted all of it.

“I… they didn’t ask…”

She shook her head for a moment, then looked at him apologetically, squeezing his hand a bit when she saw the furrow of his brow and the downturn of his mouth. She felt like she shouldn’t be worrying him, but she also liked that he seemed concerned. It was nice to know that someone cared whether she wanted something instead of just assuming.

“What I mean to say is, it doesn’t really matter if I want it or not, but I think I do. My sister was really excited to give us this because our wedding wasn’t…” she trailed off, knowing that he understood.

“She wants it to be a big thing for us even though she doesn’t even like big events. It’s sweet and I think it will really improve public perception of the crown, but I just don’t want it to be overwhelming for you. I imagine there will be a lot of eyes on us.”

His expression softened then. There was an understanding in his eyes and something else there that made her feel warm.

“As long as I don’t have to wear a suit like they crammed me in at the wedding I’ll be fine. Let them look, my eyes will be on you.”

She felt herself flushing bright red, and she was certain she was outshining her hair.

He said things like that in such a matter-of-fact tone that it was proving to consistently catch her off guard. There was no art to the way he said the words, no intent to woo or win her over. It was just the truth in his mind. She’d have his attention, even if all eyes were on him.

She needed to change the subject, averting her gaze from the intensity with which he was meeting her eye. She wondered if being with him would always be like this, butterflies in her stomach and the sensation of being wanted overwhelming her thoughts and senses. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever be happy again if it was just temporary, a “honeymoon phase”, but there was a small hopeful part of her that said that as they got to know each other his affections wouldn’t wane or remain stagnant but instead that they would grow.

How wonderful it would be to be loved. How wonderful it would be to love.

She’d never felt anything so gratifying as being at his side, knowing that he wasn’t going anywhere.

She was trying to tame her flush with a deep inhalation and exhalation, feeling his eyes on her and imagining the smile on his face that she couldn’t bring herself to look at.

“So, how was your meeting with the tailor?”

He made a pained sound, almost like a man dying.

She, for her part, let out a snort, sending them both into laughter.

It felt good to laugh in the room. It was like they were sweeping the cold from the corners.

I could love it here again.

***

Somewhere in the back of his mind Kristoff knew that he was entirely throwing off Kai’s plans for the day. The suit fitting had been just the first in a long list of tasks that had been set for the day. He was supposed to learn about peerage and how to greet royals, and about a thousand other bits and pieces of manners that Kai had decided he needed to learn as soon as possible.

Kristoff appreciated his assistance, and he did feel vaguely guilty for requesting the help and then being unavailable to actually receive it, but how could he go learn about salad forks and posture when Anna was pouring him a cup of tea and asking him excitedly what he remembered about festivals when he was young.

“I was so little when they stopped. I know now that we did need to close the gates for Elsa, but I just feel like we missed out on so much and that the people would have understood if they were just told… I mean…”

He listened intently to the way she described childhood years in the castle, not knowing why the gates were closed and not knowing why her sister never wanted to see her. It made him sad to think about when he’d never felt pushed away by his own family.

“So, do you remember what the food was like? I know you were only eight, but was there chocolates?”

He smiled, unable to help himself when she was so ecstatic about the possibility of him recalling anything at all about the only festival he remembered before the castle gates closed. It had been the summer solstice festival, before he ran away from the orphanage. He recalled it somewhat if only because it was one of the few bright spots he’d had before meeting Sven and then the trolls.

“I think there was. There were a lot of little cakes and things. We each got to have one and then we got to play a game, but I don’t remember what it was. Something with stones and chalk lines. I mostly remember watching the women dance. They had these bright ribbons in their hair and they were skipping around the maypole so everything was just fluttering and colorful. I kept wondering if one of them was my mom, and if maybe I stood close enough to the front of the crowd…”

He trailed off, then started again, “Anyway, I think some of the cakes had chocolate in them but mine didn’t. Mine had custard and I think it was the first time I had it because I remember being surprised by it.”

She had been writing down little things here and there in pretty script on a piece of paper. The things she wanted for the festival, the things he mentioned. He noticed that she’d stopped though.

“You were looking for your mom?”

He sighed, kicking himself a bit for bringing it up as he described the memory. He shouldn’t have said anything about it.

“I didn’t know what had happened back then… so I just assumed she lived in Arendelle and had misplaced me and that once she saw me she’d take me from the orphanage and I’d live with her. I didn’t even know what she looked like… I still don’t.”

He felt the silence grow around them, an uneasy sort of taunt energy that he hadn’t experienced since their wedding night, when she’d assumed and he’d not been sure what to say.

There’s going to be more of this. It’s not going to be easy all the time.

“You can ask.”

He looked at her then, saw the way her eyes were on the floor, anywhere but on him. He understood in a way. It was awkward to ask. Few people ever had except when he’d been very young. The answer had to be sad. Court order or death or abandonment were the popular choices, otherwise. There was never another reason for a child to be without his mother.

“What happened to her?”

He shrugged.

“I don’t have all the details. I thought for a long time that I’d just gotten lost or something, but not too long after the festival I found out that she had died in childbirth. That was the day I left the orphanage. She was Sami. I guess my dad was from Arendelle, a harvester who died not long before I was born. He didn’t have any family, hers was too far away to contact or find I suppose. It doesn’t matter now anyway; I had a good childhood.”

Anna was quiet at his side. She was looking down at her hands now, they were folded in her lap awkwardly and really he wanted to reach out and hold them.

What’s stopping you?

He moved slowly, slipping a hand into her line of sight before covering her hands with it. Normally he waited for her to make the first move anytime they touched, but he was realizing that she was the sort of person who liked physical contact when she was upset or nervous, and he could provide that for her. He’d gladly give her all the gentle touches in the world if it meant she’d feel safe.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, “losing your parents is hard.”

She would know.

He pressed against her hands gently and when she responded by turning her hand and lacing her fingers through his, he felt her relax a bit.

“I didn’t really know them. I was in the orphanage from the time I was born until I was eight. I started working with the harvesters for a while and then I found my family. You know I found them by following you, right?”

He couldn’t remember if he’d already told her that. If she knew that she was the reason he’d found his family.

“I know that the idea that all of this was destined to happen is kind of… strange to wrap your head around if you weren’t raised the way I was,” he said, “but it brings me some comfort to know that even the bad things that have happened might have some good come from them in the end.”

She was quiet for a little while, but when she squeezed his hand he understood that it meant she was okay.

“Did the trolls have festivals,” she asked after a little while.

He grinned.

“About a thousand.”

***

He described it all to her in vivid detail. She’d never heard Kristoff really tell a story before, but when he described the ceremonies and events that the trolls had every year, celebrating the seasons and weddings and births, it was magical. She could imagine herself there, watching it all.

“And when you turn eighteen… or well it was eighteen for me because humans have a shorter lifespan, but anyway, when you come of age there’s a big birthday party for you. Normally birthdays aren’t a big deal because the trolls have thousands of them, but this one is.”

She nodded, rapt with attention, her tea going cold along with his on the side table.

“So my parents both presented me to the family, like they had when they adopted me. You would have laughed if you saw how they dressed me, I had a cape made out of moss and a crown of twigs because that’s the tradition and let me tell you it looks better on the trolls than it did on me. But then everyone came forward and said something about me, even the kids and Sven which is exactly as comical as you’re probably imagining it in your head.”

“What sort of things did they say?”

She didn’t mean to interrupt, but she was genuinely curious.

He smiled and shook his head, looking a bit bashful, “The sort of stuff they show you every day, but don’t say out loud.”

She thought she could imagine.

I’ve been thinking that you’re kind since I met you, but I don’t say it.

I’ve been trying to show you I care about you, but the words don’t come.

“Then everyone sits together in a giant circle and eats dinner. My mother sang a song with my sisters and aunts and… well, someday when you’re comfortable, you’ll have to hear them sing. I know I’m biased, but it’s beautiful.”

Anna couldn’t help but feel a little wistful at the idea of it. She’d loved music as a child. She remembered fondly the days she and her mother would sit in front of the fire and sing folksongs together. She remembered the days her father’s tenor would add to the mix and even more far off, she could recall her sister’s voice mingling in the sound as well.

She wondered if maybe she’d sing to her own children someday, and then with a flush, wondered what her husband sounded like when he sang.

“I’d like that… then what happened?”

He laughed warmly at her enthusiasm.

“Then they gave me my crystals. I earned some when I was young… you earn them as you learn and grow, they’re…” he trailed off for a moment, thinking.

“They’re connected to the magic in the world. It probably sounds strange, but given what Elsa can do I’m sure you can understand. It’s strange, but the trolls can feel the magic all around them, it’s in their blood, and the crystals can help them in feeling it more strongly and in shaping it. I don’t have that connection, but the crystals are part of the culture so they gave them to me. Sometimes when I’m lucky and the energy is there I can get them to react the way they should. The trolls can use them to start fires and change the direction of streams and… it’s amazing. Mostly I can just get them to glow sometimes.”

Anna felt a small thrill in the pit of her stomach that she wasn’t sure whether she should tamp down or not.

Because she’d seen his crystals. She’d touched them because he’d given her license to snoop through his things. She had still felt a little bad about the snooping though. She wondered if he’d be annoyed if she mentioned it.

She tried to read him. His body was relaxed at her side, his smile soft and his brown eyes were gazing upon her face with a warmth that made her feel like they’d known each other for months or years instead of a week.

It’s worth the risk. It’s worth it to open up to him. Has he hurt you for trying yet?

“I made the pink one glow,” she blurted, unable to help herself.

His brow furrowed, then he looked thoughtful.

“I’m sorry,” she added, not sure how to take his reaction, “I probably shouldn’t have snooped, but when we were at your cabin you told me I could look at your things while you were gone and I thought they were pretty and…”

She didn’t have anything else to say for herself. She held her breath, hoping that he wasn’t upset with her, hoping that at any moment he’d be amused by the fact that she was able to get one to glow without even knowing about them or their meaning.

“Pink?”

He asked it so quietly she almost didn’t realize he was asking her a question.

“Pink,” she answered, trying to keep the nervousness out of her voice as she said it.

The confusion left his face, and when he met her eye again there was an intensity there that Anna couldn’t understand. His eyes held her gaze for a moment, before quickly, almost so rapidly that she wouldn’t have noticed, shifting to her lips and back again.

She hadn’t noticed how close they’d gotten on the settee, but now with him leaning even further into her space, she could feel his breath, she could see the stubble barely peeking up on his cheek, she could see him lick his lips.

She swallowed, then parted her own.

It would be so simple.

She’d only have to lean forward, just a little.

She could feel her heart racing in her chest. Her eyelids fluttered closed, and then she felt him draw closer.

This is it.

She remembered the kiss they’d shared at their wedding, she remembered how it felt when he’d pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Those had been chaste, one necessary for ceremony, the other to soothe, but a kiss now… it would mean something.

She tried not to feel disappointed when it never came, when instead his hand slipped from hers and went to her waist, when his forehead tipped against hers.

It’s too soon.

He wants to, but it’s too soon.

She tried to understand. Logically she knew it was true, and even the pain she’d suffered from another almost kiss in this place couldn’t challenge the warmth of his touch and the gentle way he spoke next.

“That’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard.”

She felt an ache in her chest, almost as pleasant as it was new.

It means something.

She’d almost known it when she’d touched the gem, but now the confirmation in his words, the weight to them and the intimacy of their foreheads together, left her no room for doubt.

He pulled her into an embrace, their foreheads parting but his arms wrapping around her comfortingly, leaving her head to rest against his shoulder.

She almost opened her mouth to ask him what it meant, but then she closed it, letting herself have this moment with him.

I trust him.

He’ll tell me in his own time.

[katarina-side]

Professor Styles

Rushing past the crowd of students with their backpacks and purses on their arms sending me looking for pushing past them. I hurried across the campus to make it to class in time. If I'm late to my presentation today I'm gonna fail this damn class.

Finally seeing the big brick building in front of me I glance at my watch seeing I have two minutes to spare.

"Thank god" I breathed out

I swiped my ID card walking past each door till I got to room 225 pushing the door stumbling in to see no one in the seats, "shit" I said rushing down the stairs to see professor Styles packing his briefcase.

"Professor hi I'm sorry Im late today I have a good rea-" I began til he cut me off

"You're late again Ms. Turner I told you yesterday to be here by 2 and it is 2:05" he said, not even looking up to me as he put his papers away.

I rushed around to the side of his desk placing my hands down as he looked up to me. Now Professor Styles is literally the bachelor of the university. He is one of the hottest guys I've ever met. Many girls and guys take his course just to be in his presence, not that I can blame them I mean he's perfect straight out of a book of fiction. I however have to pass this stupid French class as my last class before graduation.

"Professor I apologize I just ran about two miles to get here okay I have my script in my bag I can present right now" I said partially out of breath from running.

He looked to me breathing out a sign plopping down in his chair leaning back crossing his arms across his perfectly broad chest. Jesus Christ his shirt getting tighter to his skin.

"If I let you present how would that be fair to everyone else hm they all came on time" he said taking his glasses off in the process tossing them on the table.

"Please I'm literally begging you, I'll I I will even bake you something come on" I said trying to bargain with the god like person In front of me

"mendicité" he said

Now did I totally Google translate my whole presentation yes yes I did, I'm not really interested in learning French but for some dumb reason I need to take a language to graduate. Now did everything he say sound like pure sex? Of course in English, French, Italian, every Language the man is just enough to make you puddle and melt.

"Yes" I said not even knowing what he said

"ce serait un spectacle à voir" he said now leaning forward resting his elbows on the desk

"Umm oui?" I said more as a question cause I don't even know what this man is saying.

He shook his head, chuckling at me, "meet me at my office tonight I'll let you present to me, have everything with you and be there by 8 PM sharp my office hours are till 8:15 you'll be my last appointment got it?" He said swinging his briefcase onto his arm

"Yes yes thank you so much" I said smiling he nodded and walked up the stairs before stopping and turning around, "I'm not opposed to something sweet" he said walking out the door.

I smiled walking on out to go back to my apartment to get ready and oh yeah now I got to whip up something sweet.

Once I got home I opened the cabinet and grabbed my kitchen grabbing all my ingredients and laying them out looking at them breathing out.

See I'm a baking and pastry chef major, baking is my passion. I truly put every ounce of love and passion into my desserts and creations. Now do you see why I don't care about French. I don't understand why I had to take all these unnecessary courses throughout the 4 years in school but I did. I'll be damned if this course is the one to prevent me from graduating.

Turning the mixer to low I mix in the butter and sugar til combined adding in flour for the dough, I'm making my famous cherry pie. No one has ever had a piece and didn't like it. Rolling the dough out to the side , placing it into the dish, the door swings open revealing my roommate Sarah.

"Vicky! What did you do now" she shouted walking in seeing me throwing the crust in the oven

I laughed I'm known to make desserts as apologizes for people, "nothing I'm making a pie for my professor for my presentation tonight" I said

"Oh professor Styles" she said wiggling her eyebrows I rolled my eyes at her

"Yes that's the one" I said, beginning to mix my cherry filling together getting it ready to add to the crust once it's cooked.

"Girl I'm telling you if I wasn't gay he would be on my list for a hook up" she said siding on the bar stool at the island.

"Sarah you are in a healthy happy relationship" I said jokingly to her

"Yeah and you're not. I hope he fucks you for how good your pie tastes." She said so nonchalantly

I gasped, throwing the kitchen towel at her as she laughed, "aww your blushing!" she said, slapping the counter in excitement.

"Oh my god" I said mortified to the conversation I'm taking part in currently.

"Anyways I'm going to get changed out of these sweats cause I gotta leave in a bit please add the filling to the pie and put it in the oven thank you" I shouted walking away into my room closing the door.

I walked to the closet pulling out a black long sleeve top that was low cut and a pair of jeans and my heeled boots, getting changed. I reached over to my bedside table grabbing the stupid script I had prepared for this class snuffing it into my purse spraying myself with some perfume, letting down my hair I ran my hand through it fixing the little pieces that were out of place.

I glanced at my watch seeing it's 7:30, "shit" I said rushing out the room seeing the pie is on the counter all done. "Oh yeah you're getting fucked tonight" Sarah said now sitting up on the couch with the tv on.

I waved at Sarah not even bothering feeding into her teasing, picking up the pie and walking out and heading toward professor Styles office.

Arriving outside the intimidating door I knocked as the door swung open reading Mr. Styles looked perfect as always with his black dress pants on and his silk white top tucked into his pants with the top two buttons undone to see his cross hanging around his neck.

"Ah you made it with 5 minutes to spare" he said moving out of the way for me to walk in.

"I brought you a pie as a thank you" I said, placing it down on the desk taking a seat across from his desk as he walked leaning in front of me on his desk looking down at the pie.

"Cherry my favorite" he said smiling and now looking to me

"Well I certainly hope you have everything with you and you're ready." He said

I pulled out my script and waved it in the air toward him. He walked around the desk sitting down at his desk now grabbing the copy I handed him and throwing his glasses on looking at the paper.

"un rêve de boulanger" he read out loud, turning the page and reading. I watched as his eyes moved left to right and flipped through the pages as I sat there waiting for him to finish it.

Although yes I cheated by translating it online and not from what I was taught I did write it and meant every word. The assignment was to write our dream for after college. Mine of course being about how I wanna go on to own a little bakery in New York.

He got to the last page and turned it over, placing it down, "now your part" he said, taking the glasses off and relaxing back in his chair.

"My part?" I said confused for fucks sake that paper was hard enough to do.

"My pie? If it meets my expectations you pass" he said

I let out a giggle, "oh I didn't bring any silverware or anything figured you'd enjoy it at home" I said to him

He leaned forward sweeping his finger into the dish, getting a chunk of cherry filling on his finger and placing it in his mouth.

Holy shit that's so hot for literally no reason, I shifted in my seat waiting for his reaction.

"Jesus Christ that's good." He said going back in for another taste, licking his hand Clean.

"How rude of me" he said dipping the same finger in holding it to my mouth

"Open come on a chef should taste her masterpiece" he said

This is so wrong, so wrong but so hot, I opened my mouth as he placed his finger in my mouth. I sucked the sweet cherry filling off his finger pulling my mouth off his finger.

He looked at me with this dark look his pupils dilated. "Good girl" he said

A shock goes through my body with those two words, "So did I pass?" I asked

"With flying colors" he said, licking his finger clean looking me straight in the eye.

He opened his laptop clicking away and then closing the screen, "congratulations Ms. Turner you have passed and will walk the stage Monday evening" he said smiling at me

I shot out of my seat walking to him hugging him, "thank you, thank you so much professor Styles" I said excitingly letting go of him as he stood up taller than me looking down a bit tapping his finger under my chin to make me look up to him, "it's Harry your not my student anymore" he said placing his thumb on my bottom lip pulling down.

"Oh um I'm sorry professor this is wrong" I said stepping back

"Well your not my student anymore and you're a smart girl I can tell you like me and I quite like you as well" he said walking behind me, closing the blind on the door and locking the door. Walking to the window across he closed the blind turning now facing me placing his hands behind him on the desk looking at me with his eyebrow raised as if he was telling me to deny what he said.

"I professor" I said till he quickly reminded me, "Harry now love Harry" he said

"Harry I won't lie, yes I do like you but should we wait til I graduate" I said walking closer now as if there's this magnet bringing us together.

"Well in the eyes of me and the school I submitted your last assignment and closed the class you're not my student anymore it is Friday you graduate Monday I'd say that is close enough." He said now reaching around my waist pulling me in to close the gap behind us I let out a shaky breath looking up to meet his eyes.

"You've been driving me crazy every day this semester walking in those doors always looking good." He said brushing my hair behind my ear

"You must say that to every girl" I said not believing this

He grasped my chin in his hand, "never think back, did I ever look at any girl in class with you in the room, I've always looked at you, you in your perfect clothes, perfect hair, perfect face." He said twirling my hair around his finger and stroking my check with his thumb.

There's always been some sort of pull to him since I walked into this dumb class we always caught each other's eyes during lecture.

"Can I try something I've been wanting to try for a while?" He asked me

I nodded, waiting for what was going to happen, when he placed his hands on my checks holding me as he placed his lips to mine. Dear god his soft lips pressing on mine the sweet taste of cherry on both our lips. I wrapped my arms around his neck pulling him closer if that's even possibly needing to be closer to him.

He ran his hand down my neck, shoulders down my arm til he got to my waist. Squeezing my sides I gasp as he whispers against my lips, "jump" he said and I did wrapping my legs around his waist as he carried us over to his desk placing me down as we made out. Separating for a second to catch our breath.

"Jesus Christ that's worth the wait alright" he said causing me to laugh

"Your not kidding" I said

"Victoria can I call you Victoria" he asked me

"Vicky just Vicky" I said in a daze from his lips

"Vicky do you want me to make you feel good a little graduation present" he said

I nodded quickly what a dumb question of course.

"mots ma chérie" he said

As if I wasn't wet enough already hearing him talk in French made me more turned on, "I have no clue what that means but yes" I said causing him to laugh

"French lessons for real starting Monday, I said words my darling I need words" he said

"Yes yes do whatever you want" I said

He picked me up and brought me to the couch in his office standing me up, "pants off" he said as I obliged, pulling my jeans off and shoes throwing them to the corner.

"Now your top" he said standing with his arms crossed watching me as I take my top off now standing in my bra and panties and thank god I wore my matching black lace set.

"Jesus Christ" he hissed looking me up and down biting his bottom lip

"Your turn professor" I said tauntingly

He smirked removing his top and pulling down his pants leaving him in grey boxers seeing his cock outlined from being hard.

"Someone's excited" I said pointing down to his cock

"Like you aren't darling now sit down" he said as I laughed sitting down on the couch.

He kneeled down in front of me kissing my chest making his way down leaving kisses on my cleavage stomach and passing the area I needed him at the most to kiss my thigh and my inner thigh brushing his nose against my clothed center.

"Lift up I'm going to take them off" he said tugging at the waistband of my panties I lifted my hips as he pulled them down leaving me a wet mess.

"So wet for me" he said, holding up my panties, licking them and throwing them to wear my pants are I let out a heavy breath.

"Now lean back and relax" he said

He places his hands on my knees, opening my legs leaning in to place a kiss right on my clit as I shiver from the sensation. He begging to circle his tounge on my clit, I threw my head back, "fuck" I moaned out causing him to moan against me causing a vibration adding more pleasure.

He began to tease my entrance with a finger he went in circles then up and down til he finally slid a finger in pulling his mouth away leaving me whimpering at the loss of contact.

"Mmm how many fingers can you take baby" he said looking up to me as I'm a whimpering mess just from his one finger.

"découvrons-le" I said back shocking him as he stopped his movement

"Ah so you did learn something in class" he said slowly begin to move his finger again curling them in the right places

"I'm guessing you can take three" he said now adding a second finger causing me to gasp out from the shock.

He thrust his fingers in and out curling them as I moaned out reaching my hand down to try and add more pressure by playing with my clit til Harry reached out with his other hand stopping me.

He shook his hand, "no no now your gonna be a good girl this is my graduation gift to you let me make you feel good" he said placing my hand to the side adding a third finger moving faster and faster, "my god your fucking beautiful looking down with that mouth open gasping and moaning all for me" he said now leaning back in to play with my clit I reach my hand to hold his head in place tugging at his hair getting a groan out of him.

"Oh you like hair tugging huh? I'll keep it in mind" I said teasingly shakingly due to the pleasure running through every point of my body.

I rolled my head back closing my eyes taking in all the pleasure till I feel his his hand wrap around my neck pulling my head forward to look down at him, "eye contact chérie look at me and don't close your eyes I wanna see the pleasure I bring to you" he said as he resumes places his tongue on my clit.

This view is everything as I watch Harry to bring me closer and closer to my release. His head between my thighs made me wetter and wetter. I'm panting now staring down locking eyes with him.

"Holy shit Harry fuck Im gonna cum Jesus Christ fuck" I shouted as he moved his finger and tounge at the same time sending me off to my climax as it took over my body I moaned and shouted while shaking all under his touch.

"So fucking sweet" Harry said pulling away liking his mouth and fingers clean.

I looked down at him catching my breath, "can I, can I do something for you?" I asked, regaining my breath.

"Baby you could do anything you want. Although I wanna make a request. I want your fucking mouth so bad." He said standing up now as I lowered myself on my knees meeting his clothed center pulling down his boxers when his cock sprung out.

"Your so big" I said looking up to him

"I know your not used to being with a real man" he said laughing jokingly

"You're 5 years older than me, calm down" I said laughing as well.

I struck my hand up and down his shaft, taking my index finger swiping at the pre cum off his cock and bringing it up to my mouth and  swirling my tongue around moaning out looking up to him.

"Oh you're a dirty girl huh I thought I had a good girl?" He said teasingly

"Now let me see how good that mouth is because you sucking that pie off my finger had me hard the whole time talking to you" he said

"Gladly I've been thinking about your cock" I said now moving my mouth to wrap around his cock slowly rocking it in and out of my mouth warping my hand around the rest that I couldn't fit due to his length.

"Oh fuck" he moaned out wrapping his hand in my hair pushing my head back and fourth guiding me.

"Sitting in class thinking about my dick huh? Does it live up to expectations for you chérie?" He said while panting tossing his head back

I grunt, nodding my head slightly, working my mouth around his cock twirling my tongue around and sucking. I pulled my mouth off now using my hand looking up at him looking down with his mouth wide open and his chain slightly dangling off his chest.

"Fuck your so hot" I said

"You my chérie are indescribable everything and more fucking beauty" he said

I smiled, rocking my hand faster up and down his shift, "you gonna cum for me, going to be a good boy and cum for me" I said looking up to him as his chest moved up and down faster and faster.

He let out a grunt and moan grabbing my head and guided it to his cock, "if it's too much tap my thigh I'll stop" he said quickly as I nodded needing his cock in my mouth. I moved my hand off and let him take control as he pushed my head down and thrust his hips forward and back allowing himself to finish as I twirl my tongue around best I could hearing him moan and come undone.

"Fuck fuck fuck Jesus Christ my good Vicky your amazing" he said finally letting go as I taste the saltiness from his cum fill my mouth he pulled my head off as I licked his shaft clean of all my salavia and his cum swallowing it all.

Harry pulled me up and kissed me as he tasted himself against my mouth and I taste myself against his. He moved backwards til we got to the couch he pulled away reaching into the pant pocket of his pulling out a condom ad I sat down.

"Came prepared now didn't you Harry" I said raising my eyebrow to him

"Been thinking about this for a while" he said as he rolled the condom on

He hovered over me now, relaxing on top of me as we both layed down. He reached between us aligning himself and sliding in as we both let out a gasp.

"God" we both moaned.

Harry began to move, thrusting in and out slowly resting his head in the crock of my neck as I felt his hot breath on my neck.

"tu te sens incroyable chérie incroyable" he said in French

I let out a moan, "faster please please" I said practically begging he leaned up on his elbows as his cross hit my chin as he thrusted in and out leaning down kissing me as we both were filled with pleasure and pain all at once.

"Can I try something?" He asked

"Oui" I said causing him to smirk

He brought his hand to my neck and slightly squeezed, wrapping his hand around my throat. Holy shit the coldness from his metal rings add to the pleasure.

I moaned out, "oh fuck me Jesus Christ" I said looking down to see his cok coming out and going into my pussy

"It's like you were made for me never felt this good my god" he said looking down as well we both looked up as he removed his hand from my neck resting our foreheads together he placed his lips on mine, "god I'm so close" I said shakily as I feel my climax approaching I've never cum this fast before.

"Cum with me" he said intensely increasing in his speed

I moaned out from the intense feeling, "give me your hand" he said as he grabbed it, lowering it down to my lower abdomen pressing down til I felt his cock moving inside me. I let out a moan throwing my head back.

"That feeling will keep me up all night, when you cum on your own when I'm not around I want you to think of this and how you feel when my cocks inside you" he said deeply.

"Harry I'm gonna cum fuck" I said

"Cum for me chérie let go" he said

That was all I needed as I felt the intense pleasure run through me leaving me to moan and shake and come down beneath him as he followed suit moaning out calling my name. I opened my eyes, seeing blurry til his face became clear he's smirking down at me with a piece of his hair in his eyes. I pushed it off back for him, "that was incredible" he said kissing me again

"Amazing" I said, catching my breath.

"I'm gonna pull out okay" he said, grabbing a tissue from the coffee table and placing it between us he pulled out as we both hissed from the loss of contact as he dried me off, pulling the condom off, rolling it in a ball and tossing it in the trash can.

He leaned back revisiting us so I was resting on his chest, "so I have one more assignment for you" he said looking at me I laughed, "and what's that?" I asked

"I want you ready at 10 pm Monday after graduation I'm taking you to dinner" he said

I sat up a bit turning to him, "like a date?" I asked excitingly

"It's a date" he said and kissed me

[extremelyblackandwhite]

champagne problems

pairing: mob!bucky barnes x reader

warnings: smut

a/n: oooo smut. the next chapter is the last and i’m depressed about it already

TOLERATE IT - TIS THE DAMN SEASON

Bustling crowds or silent sleepers, you’re not sure which is worse ...

Her shift dragged; it seemed as if the clock was stuck and moving only a minute after three hours had passed and even though there was the same sea of people coming through the doors of the club, the shift felt slow. Everything was in slow motion and her eyes daren’t move from the bar. Bobby was still on holiday and as such it as merely her, ignoring everyone and every word which came her way and ignoring Edward who kept nagging her about Mr. Barnes, a person who she didn’t want to look at.

She didn’t understand how one could just pretend to be entranced by another one and just turn it on yet she would also not debate her mind about what her feelings were for her boss, the same boss she was supposed to betray. She was supposed to betray him and yet she didn’t know how or even if she wanted to. Why should she? They clearly had sent Edward in and him being the spineless vermin he was, she was sure he’d quickly join his group by quickly sleeping with the woman who surrounded the mob boss. The women ... the women were always so beautiful, beautiful enough to make Y/N want to make herself up before she came up to the bar, feeling too bland next to the gorgeous women who paraded around him. Beautiful dresses, spotless faces, beautiful makeup, beautiful hair and here she was, in her old cardigan cleaning the bar with dirty rags stinking of a mix between bleach, peanuts and booze. 

Once the lights were up and every single glass was washed and placed on their due shelf for tomorrow she was out. Bag hanging from her shoulder and books against her chest, she took the backdoor. The front door always had freshly drunk or high people whom she wanted no problems with. As she pushed the door open, she saw him, smoking in front of him car looking so effortlessly cool, chic even. It was pouring, raining so harshly it would drench anyone who dared step foot in yet he just stood there unbothered, cigarette still somehow burning, water drops rolling of his trench coat. Usually she would’ve entered the car and allow herself to be driven home; instead she turned her head to the side, pretending she hadn’t seen him. He, however, had seen her. 

      - Wanda picking you up today, petal? - he said in a mocking tone, throwing the butt onto the bin.

      - No, sir. - she stopped, still not daring to look at him. - I thought about walking home alone. 

      - At night? When it’s pouring? Sometimes I think you like to get hurt, petal. 

      - With all due respect, Mr. Barnes, I think I should go by myself.

      - Please. - he sighed, hands on his hips. - Get in the car, I’ll drive you the fastest I can. You don’t even need to look my way. 

Her lips tightened. It was pouring rain, her clothes were already as drenched as they could be and she had been less than 10 minutes. She sighed, walking through puddles of water towards and away from him and inside his car, setting against the leathered seats. Bucky chuckled, watching from the side of his eye as she crossed her arms across her chest like a kid, avoiding his gaze as if he were the devil. Maybe he was, but he would never act like it in front of her.

She watched the rain fall down the window like waterfalls. It was bad, bad enough she could start seeing the water almost pool on the asphalt of the road. As they kept driving through the darkness, only the headlights giving light to the dark road until blinding lights came into their front view. Police came into view with their lights but all she could see was the bar barring the only way into her road. Bucky pulled the window down, charming smile as the cop realised who he was speaking with. She looked at her knees, perfectly knowing who it was, perfectly knowing if he discovered who she was so would James and she was locked in a car with him. Not a good combination.

     - Evening, officer. What seems to be the problem?

     - Mr. Barnes, sir. - she tipped his cap at him. - The road is flooded. We feared this and warned all residents to be at home before 5PM. 

     - I understand, officer but you see my employee here lives just down the road. Can’t I walk her in? Come on, you know I always pay you back, double even.

     - It’s up to your knees, sir. You’re better off in a hotel for the night, m’am. Safety protocol. 

James turned around his car making her look his way as he started driving away from her home. What was he doing? How was she supposed to go back home and how was she supposed to calm down when he was driving her away from her home. Was he going to drop her at a hotel? Was he going going to drop her, she didn’t know. She opened her mouth, waiting for words to come out but nothing came out. She didn’t know what to ask, what to say other than yell at him to let her out yet she didn’t. Y/N didn’t want to yell at him. 

He noticed this, slowing down the normal fast pace at which he liked to drive, only now hearing to both of them breathing and the water drops of rain hit the windows. He could see her, through the mirror, her face leaning against the window, eyes reflection a sort of fight he was sure never to completely understand, only partially knowing. His eyes returned to the road ahead, the lights of each house dimming as everyone prepared to hold each other tight, hold their loved ones as the storm continued. He could only look at himself, almost as his vision refused to notice she was right there but she was. Both locked in the same car. 

     - You can stay at my place tonight. - he mumbled. - You’ve been there before. I’ll drive you back first thing in the morning. 

She didn’t replied, instead letting her own eyes close momentarily, head laying against the water stained glass. She listened to the rain, considering all her life choices or what she was even doing. Was she okay with becoming this close to the mob boss? Becoming part of the inner group of females who followed him, just another name in a big list. Was that the question she should be asking? No. Did she really want to ask herself the question she had to? Also no. It was much easier to tell herself it was business. It was much easier to lie than tell the truth.

Y/N opened her eyes once again as the car slowed down and the sounds of rain drops were no longer around heard. They were parked inside his garage, one which she had seen before. He was the first one out the car, opening the door before walking away. She made haste to get off the car, almost power walking after him as he pressed the lift’s button to open the doors. The doors slide open and he stepped in, her following behind.

    - I’ll be sleeping in a hotel down the street so you can calm down. 

    - You can stay if you want. I mean, it’s your house. 

    - Why should I? So you can freak out about the possibility of me killing you?

    - That’s not it. 

    - Afraid I’m going to force myself on you? - he scoffed. - You know what, Y/N? I’m just not gonna be there and you can do whatever you want without blaming me for whatever theories you have. 

    - Why are you so mad suddenly? 

    - I’m not mad.

    - Yes, you are. - she crossed her arms. - Excuse me if I don’t feel comfortable around you when you have more than two hundred kills blamed on you, when you’re constantly surrounded by girls and the rumours and the guns you always carry. 

   - I’ve killed two people in my whole life. Two. - he pointed his finger at her, making her take a step back. - They deserved it and I’m so tired of trying to make you feel safe. I get you a job and you’re upset, I get you a job waitressing so idiots won’t treat you like shit and you think I’m being the bad guy. I drive you home every single time and you still look at me as if I’m going to kill you. You can think whatever you want, I’m done. 

She was going to rebuff him, tell him he was wrong but that wasn’t true. She couldn’t say he was wrong out of principle and because once the doors slide open, he disappeared into his big apartment. Y/N stayed behind, heart heavy as she threw her soaked bag onto the couch, sitting on it with a huff. Like a kid she put her hand under her chin, she knew he was right. Of course she knew. But she was the captain’s daughter, she was the one who’d heard tales and seen photos of terrible crimes on the kitchen table when she came in to show her dad her drawings. She knew it, she just didn’t exactly knew what he did. It was all very hush hush, mostly rumours, which ran from people to people and like the game of the broken phone, things got distorted.

She was the captain’s daughter but this wasn’t her. It wasn’t her identity. She knew better not to judge someone by rumours and gossip, her mother had taught her better than that yet she wanted to have her little walls. She wanted to be surrounded by that wall, that wall which said she felt absolutely nothing and that she was doing a good job. Y/N knew, she knew way too well what having those walls crumbling would mean. It would mean she was a woman infatuated with a man. Plain and simple, except it wasn’t and it wasn’t just a woman and just a man, it was the captain’s daughter and the mob boss. She knew not to slap labels on things but this is what it was, this was what she had been her whole life, not Y/N, not the nurse student, not her last name but the Captain’s daughter and him, him it was the same. She could count the number of people who knew his full name or even his first name in one hand. He was the boss. The mob boss, Barnes. Never James Buchanan Barnes. 

She sighed, looking to the chess board in the table in front of her. However, unlike everything else in the room which was absolutely spotless, organised and unseeingly unlived in, the chess board was still in the same position they had left it. Her fingers grazed the black chess king, holding it up to her eyes. The piece she had won.

His shoes hit the linoleum floor making her look his way. He had a small leather carry on, something quite stylish and refused to make eye contact with her instead walking straight to the elevator.

     - Mr. Barnes. - she perked up from the couch, getting his attention instantly. If she only knew. - Can you entertain me for a second?

     - I’m leaving, Y/N. What do you need?

     - Sit down. - she pointed at the couch in front of her. Bucky scoffed, for someone who was afraid of him killing her, she sure didn’t mind ordering him around. Her. The bartender. - Play with me. 

      - Play with you? - he dropped the suitcase to the floor, walking slowly to the chair in front of her. She sat against her own chair like a throne and so did he, standing in front of her. - You should be careful with your word choice.

      - You should be careful with me winning again.

      - I’ve learned all your moves, petal. I’m an observant player. 

      - I doubt that.

Bucky leaned over, setting his pieces as she did the same. Soon enough they were back to playing. Bucky observed her, watching as every play was so calculated, never by chance, lip in the middle of her teeth as she smoothly moved her pieces around almost like a ballet dance. Bucky remembered playing against more experienced players. “Chess is the game of the mind, James. You need to almost control and predict them to win” his teacher would tell him. She was impossible to read, always looking deep in thought yet so calm and collected, he guessed she needed that for the field she was in.

His pieces were dropped on her side, her taking what was his without any doubt until she stole his queen. Now, James’ knew not to play anymore. It was a courtesy of chess, yet she still didn’t look or carried the air of someone who had just won her game. Instead she looked at him, waiting for his move. Bucky leaned against his chair. 

      - You won. I should be leaving, it’s late. 

      - Wait, just .... why don’t you stay for a bit? We could talk, I’m not that tired yet. 

      - Petal, it’s late.

      - I’ll fix you a drink.

      - You can’t fix a scotch if your live depended on it. - he chuckled. - How about I fix you a drink? What’s your poison?

      - Can I get some tea? 

      - Sure. - he shrugged. - Which one do you want?

     - You have more than one type of tea? - she smirked, legs crossed over one another, the old wool dress still clinging to her skin due to the soaking wet fabric. James tried not to eye her, instead turning his back before he could be blamed of checking her out. - You don’t strike me as the type of person to like tea.

     - Maybe I’m just trying to impress you. 

     - Then in that case you should have biscuits. - she turned around on the couch, knees of the cushioned seat as she stared at him in the kitchen. He looked exactly like the type of man on the cover of an IKEA magazine, those ones were a shirtless man is holding a coffee cup like every morning after sex fantasy of every woman. 

     - I do have biscuits, petal. Which ones do you want?

     - Which ones do you have?

     - Try me.

     - Chocolate covered digestives. Only one side chocolate. 

     - An educated choice. - he opened one of the many drawers of his kitchen, pulling an acrylic container fulled to the brim with the same biscuits she had described. A man of taste indeed. He handed them a plate with three biscuits followed by the one tea cups he had which were his coffee mugs, always spotless white. She envied how pristine everything was in his home. In her flat, half the cutlery was hers, the other half Wanda’s and none matched with one being bright blue and the other one bright red. 

As for him, she knew what he drank, always the same, always the same old scotch. At this point she wondered if he liked it or if it was a power symbol. Big powerful man drinking the most expensive scotch in the world. At least it was the most expensive scotch when she researched it on her laptop on a particularly boring lecture. Yet, it somehow wasn’t the drink which gave him that untouchable appearance. It was him. 

    - I have a question. - he moved the glass away from his lips, pinkie finger pointing at her. - How come you ended up dating my cleaning boy?

    - We didn’t date. - she snorted, completely forgetting who she was speaking with. - His mother and my father dated for a long time after my mum died .. to be honest, I think it started before my mum died. Anyway, she had this awfully annoying kid, first time he came in he broke the head of my doll.

    - Oh no, petal. Should I break his head? - James joked, downing whatever was left of his scotch.

    - I would take you up on that. - Y/N rolled her eyes. - Dad always liked him, he once told me he was the child he never had.

    - Ouch. 

    - Well, he wanted a boy. - she leaned against the cushioned coach. - I don’t know why he said we dated, I would never.

    - Good.

    - Why do you ask? - she leaned her head against her shoulder

    - You have potential, petal. I thought maybe being around him would make him want to get back together ... I mean, you’re going to be a nurse.

    - Don’t trust him. - she held the mug against both her hands. 

    - Pardon?

    - Don’t trust him. Edward, I mean. Don’t tell him anything, don’t say anything, just don’t trust him.

    - You know something I don’t? - he put both his hands on either side of the couch’s handles. 

    - Promise me.

    - Petal ...

    - Promise me. - she cupped his face, looking him deep into those baby blue eyes she had gotten so used to see every day. - Promise me, okay? Just ... you don’t need to know. Promise me.

    - Petal, I’d do everything for you. - he rested his hand against her warm cheek. She reacted to his touch, leaning against his rough palm. Her eyes travelled towards his, looking at him like someone she’d knew from. Like an old friend. He leaned towards her, nose against hers. 

Her eyes flustered, cheeks warm and she no longer knew if it was due to the apartment’s heating or because he was looking at her that way. She closed her eyes, listening to the small sounds of the environment surrounding her. Bucky kissed her forehead as her eyes opened and the world seemed to stop for a while as if she was living her own version of a 1950′s romantic movie. Her finger caressed his cheek.

    - Well, you shouldn’t do everything for me. I’ll break your heart.

    - Already broken.

Y/N’s lip quivered at those words. It was if he had been meaning to say them but had held them in for so long, forceful forbidding himself to even think it and it broke her heart to hear it. She leaned her forehead against his, looking at him with a look Bucky didn’t remember seeing. God, he was so used to seeing fear in other’s faces that he almost forgot what ... it didn’t mind anymore. He’d done that mistake once early this day and he wasn’t going to do it again. She didn’t want him and he wasn’t going to try and convince her. She doesn’t belong in his world and she doesn’t belong in his. 

     - Kiss me. - Bucky didn’t think twice, immediately kissing her as if his life depended on it.

He pulled her away from the couch’s rest, pulling her towards him and caging her in his hold as her hands fell from his face and rested upon his shoulders. His jacket was discarded to the corner of the room, leaving the mob boss only in his soft black dress up shirt. His hands pulled at the hem of her dress which peeled off her body almost perfectly, the sheen on the water on her beautiful skin which made him want to run his lips over it. Her fingers grazed over the dark buttons of his shirt, pulling them off their own fabric rips to open his shirt which slide down his perfect physic. Her dress hanged by her hips as he raised her to lay atop his lap, throwing the chess board to the floor as his hands roamed her back. The pieces fell to the ground, some breaking, some rolling but none of them really cared too lost on each other.

Bucky turned her around, laying her atop the coffee table before sitting in the same couch she had been sitting. He could just look at her forever - warm damp skin, lips half open, irregular breathing, innocent knowing eyes. He could look at that forever and be happy yet all he wanted was to feel her, kiss her skin, sense the faint smell of the Daisy perfume she would reapply behind the bar every once in a while. He smirked, leaning over her body, one hand gathering both her hands above her head while the other held her waist, lips leaning from her jaw to her neck. She whined, fingers moving and wrists turning as she tried to free herself from his grip, wanting to hold him but he didn’t allow her. Instead, Bucky started sucking on her pressure point, wanting to leave a mark for others to see before moving to her collarbones, down her perfect swells and to her belly button.

He smirked as he reached where her dress was hanging. He pulled it slowly out of her legs coming face to face with her beige underwear with a little bow up top. A little present for him to open. 

Y/N could feel his finger grazing her skin, dragging teasingly. He was so close, so close to her core and yet so far. All she wanted to do was push him to do it but he had her hands tightly caged in his hand. She looked at him with pleading eyes, almost pouting making him chuckle at how needy she was. He would’ve toy with her had he not want to feel her for so long.

He dragged her underwear down her legs, throwing it across his living room before setting himself on his knees in front of her. There he was, the most powerful man in the town kneeled in front of her, kissing her leg from her ankle to the apex of her thigh. All she could feel was his soft lips contrasting with the rough stubble he had which made the mix of emotions much more interesting. It was slow yet hungry at the same time and she expected him to keep at it until his lips moved to her core abruptly. She held it a moan on her throat, oxygen punched out of her lungs as she moved her head to the side. 

Bucky hooked both her legs over her shoulders, getting the access he so wanted, getting her where he’d always wanter her. She moaned uncontrollably as his tongue teased her entrance, lips suckling her bud. Y/N wanted to hold onto his head, pull on his hair and her fingers kept contracting as she fought his handle of her hands. It was too much, so much she could feel herself start to cry, not remembering the last time someone had paid this much attention to her. She tried not to focus on him eating her out, feeling like if she did she’d come down from her high as fast as she had gotten there. Once he started moaning against her core, the vibration drove her over the edge yet he remained there licking and lapping at whatever she had to offer as she regained her breathe. 

    - You okay there, petal? - he rose, leaning over to kiss her, releasing her hands. As if they were magnetic, she cupped his face, feeling his skin against her fingers. He pulled his lips away from her, expecting an answer but she only nodded, hands leaving his face to travel to his trousers to try and push them down. Bucky aided her with that, pushing his trousers down and pulling her closer.

He could see his eyes look into his, so beautiful yet so lustful at the same time. God this woman, he thought to himself, this woman is gonna end me. His hand searched for hers, intertwining his fingers with hers as he slowly started to enter her, her walls accommodating him like they were made for each other. She forcefully shut her eyes, the sting being the first thing she felt, not used to being stretched out like that.

   - It’s okay, petal. - he kissed her forehead. - We can stop, do you wanna stop?

   - No. - she moaned, the sting started to fade as pleasure gave way. He got her signal and started to slowly rock in and out of her, eyes glued to were they were both connected. Dear God. He couldn’t help but pick up the pace at the sound of her lustful moans, leaning down to kiss her as he lost control over what pace they were at, instead going by instinct. 

She could feel and hear everything; her walls tightening around him, milking him for what he was worth it, the groans that sounded like moans that he would let out, his lips never leaving hers no matter how messy the kiss became, the slapping sound of their skin meeting.  The room was hot, filled with sighs and groans and moans, something pornographic. 

    - Come on, petal. You’re gonna come undone for me, yeah? Just for me. - he tried to get a grip on himself as she started to clench on him more often. His hands came up behind her back, slowly raising it from the coffee table as he quickened his pace, still panting but not stopping as if he had been possessed by an incubus. How could he stop? How could he stop when she looked like that, head thrown back, lips swollen and open, fucking perfect. 

A high pitched moan made the room go completely new, it was almost as if she were high, white spots crowding her view as she let her muscles relax and fall back. James held her, throwing himself to the couch behind him, her on top of him as ropes of white spurted inside of her and spilled onto the couch. Fuck, he wanted to keep those stains so he could remember. Her head rested against his shoulder, breathing returning to normal as he kissed her hair. 

      - If you wanted me to stay so badly, you could’ve just asked. - he grinned, kissing her head once more.

      - Shut up. - she giggled, turning her head to look at him. - Hi.

      - Hi. - he smiled. His hand blindly searched for one of the many useless blankets that adorned his couches to wrap her in. Once he found one, he drapped it over her back, managing to get up and walk to her room.

She wanted to stay awake, she wanted to stay awake and spend the night talking to him but once the blanket draped over her back, she was good as gone. 

The morning rose with its cloudy skies, the dim lighting awaking her up as she rose her head from the bed, hair made into a tangled mess. He had an arm over her, face to her back, softly sleeping. She wondered why it was so surprising to see him like that, even mob bosses sleep but he just looked so peaceful, so ... so normal. Almost as if they could be a regular couple just like everyone else. She shifted in bed, to look at him, her slight moves immediately awaking him but he chose to keep his eyes close, not wanting her to worry about waking him up. 

   - I know you’re awake. - she said, voice laced with sleep as she noticed his breathe pattern change as well as his eyelids twitching. - James. 

   - Bucky. - he corrected. - You can call me James when I’m fucking you but I prefer Bucky. 

   - Bucky. - she repeated. - I like that.

   - Do you wanna have breakfast? - he opened his eyes. - Anything you want. 

   - You’re gonna cook me breakfast or are you gonna force the shops to open at ... - she looked at her watch, colour draining from her face. - 10AM. Holy shit, I’m late.

   - Y/N ... - he laughed as she got out of the bed, bed sheet wrapped around her body as she searched his room for her clothing. - It’s drying in the bathroom, petal. 

   - I’M LATE. I’M LATE TO THE ONLY CLASS I LIKE. - she rushed over to the bathroom, almost tripping on the large sheet. Bucky stood on his side, watching her with a silly grin as she pulled the dress over her body along with her underwear. - STOP STARING, YOU’RE DRIVING. 

   - You’re calling the shots now? - he cocked an eyebrow at her. 

   - I’m late. - she kneeled on his bed, trying to push him out of it. - Bucky, c’mon.

   - No, petal. You’re already late, just stay the day with me. I’ll even give you the day off. 

   - I have to graduate first. - she crossed her arms.

   - Okay. 

Bucky was quick to get dressed, grabbing his car keys from the hook on the door before taking her down to the garage and into the car. Y/N pushed down the mirror, trying to fix whatever mess he had done to her. There was not much she could do but try and comb her hair and push her dress’ neckline up to try and hide the hickeys. She kept looking at her watch, wondering if she’d make it and as he parked in front of her department’s building, she only had 5 minutes to go. It felt more like a one night stand but desperate times called for desperate measures and besides she was working this night so she could explain to him that she wasn’t trying to bail.

   - I can’t drive you home tonight, petal. Gotta receive a shipping by the docks. Sam will probably drive you, I’ll speak with him at the club and I’ll let you know before I leave.

   - It’s okay I can ask Pietro or Wanda. 

   - Go on before you’re actually late for it. - he opened her door and she sprinted like a mad woman.

As she walked into the lecture hall, most of her colleagues, including Wanda, were already sat on. She shamefully hide her head, climbing up the stairs to the middle row where Wanda had kindly saved her a seat and was probably wondering where she had been and why she hadn’t called. Once she sat, down, the questions ran down on her. 

   - You look like hell, Y/N. God, why do you even have a phone if you don’t call me or Pietro? 

   - I’m sorry, they had blocked the road.

   - Did they block your phone signal?

   - No. - she sighed. - Hey, you think Pietro or you can pick me up today? Mr. Barnes is receiving a shipment tonight.

   - He’s receiving a shipment? Do you know where?

   - Uhm ... yes.

   - Good, that means you can tell your father and you can finally quit that god awful job and behave like regular Y/N.

She had forgotten. She knew where the shipment was, she had the smoking gun, she was done, right? Why did it felt so heavy? That was what she was put into his life for, to get information yet she couldn’t find herself to send the text to her father. The rest of the day she stared at her phone, at her father’s number, her fingers hovering over the keypad. She knew the answer, docks. Five letters, one word. There was only that place yet writing those five letters seemed to be the hardest thing in the world. She had time, she told herself. She had time to send her father the message so she spent the day ignoring it.

As she walked on the cobblestones that led to the bar, her resolve only broke looser. She didn’t want to send that text, he didn’t deserve that, he didn’t deserve to have her stab him in the back. She didn’t want to stab him in the back, that was not her. Maybe that was what they wanted of her but it wasn’t her and it was not going to be her. As she stepped inside the already half full bar, she turned off her phone. Nobody needs to know, nobody will know. As she told herself those words, someone pushed her arm, throwing her onto the supply cupboard. She looked up to see Edward locking the door behind them.

  - What the fuck? I have a job to do. - she tried to push past him but he stood there. - What do you want?

  - The waiters said they saw you get in the car with Barnes.

  - So? - she crossed her arms. - He drives me home.

  - I knew you shouldn’t be in the case. I mean, you’re a wannabe nurse and you think you’re in the big league.

  - What is that supposed to mean? I was put up to this way before you were.

  - Wonder why? You’re doing a shit job and now you’re fucking sleeping with Barnes? I always knew you got what you wanted but I never knew you were a mob boss’ whore now. 

  - Oh fuck off, Edward. - she tried to push him once again but he pushed her back and further into the cupboard.

  - Where’s the shipment, Y/N? Do the right thing and you can go back to sucking him off. 

  - You can go to hell.

  - WHERE IS IT? - he pushed her against the wall but she spat on his face. - Fine, you know what fine. Guys like him are never gonna go to prison, he’s just gonna buy his way out. If you want things done, do them yourself.

   - Don’t do anything stupid, Edward. - she pleading, following him as he walked to the door. - You’re not gonna win. Just give up.

   - I hope you fucked him goodbye. - his hand went into the hem of his pants, she knew damn well what he was about to grab and about to do. She rushed to the door but he locked it on her face. Her heart raced as she started to punch and kick the door, screaming at him to open the door. 

    - Bastard! - she mumbled, looking over the cupboard and at the small window up the top. There was a series of creaky shelves under them. Hopefully it was open. Carefully, she moved the stuff out the shelves and started to climb them until the last one which gave her enough room to push the window open. As she reached for the latch, the window didn’t move. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

She looked around, looking for anything to break the window with but everything was merely brooms and old rags. She wrapped an old vodka smelling rag around her hand and sighed. It’s okay, you’ve seen it done in the movies besides it’s an old cupboard, old window. It’s gonna be easy. She bite her lip and swung her hand towards the glass which shattered into her hand, a few pieces lodging into her palm. It was a hole small enough for her to put her hand in and open the latch from outside. As she done it, the window creaked open and she jumped into the small space, wiggling out of it and falling onto the ground.

Once she found herself in the alleyway she ran over to the employees door, opening it and rushing into the dance floor. Her eyes scanned the room, his usual table was empty and he wasn’t either at the bar. Her best option was to try and find him before Edward did. Although she harboured a grudge against him, she could not overpower it. She mixed with the rest of the club goers trying to look for Bucky until she spotted him moving through the crowd. She pushed a few people away, trying to reach him by yelling out his name but the music was too loud. Luckily for her, the crowds were easy enough to overcome and she finally reached him, tugging onto his jacket before he could leave.

  - Hey petal. You’re on your break? - he asked, smiling down at her.

  - Bucky, I need to tell you something.

  - What happened to you hand? - he noticed her bleeding hand. - Did you drop a bottle? Did someone hurt you?

  - Bucky, wait, I ...

  - BARNES! - a voice interrupted her. The crowd screamed and stepped away as Edward held a gun up. Bucky put his arm over her shoulder to push her behind him but she stepped in front of him. 

The sound of the gunshot went off, everyone was screaming and running out of the club but all she could hear was a beep. Her breath seemed to falter once to quicken again as her muscles lost force and she felt herself falling. She awaited to hit the ground but someone held her.

  - FUCKING KILL HIM! - she could hear Bucky’s voice in slow motion almost as everything went darker than the club she was in.

She would’ve made such a lovely bride, what a shame she’s fucked in the head

taglist: @lookiamtrying @mariamermaid @sebastianstansqueen @unmagically @buckybarnes1982 @mela-noche @lowercasegenius @randomweirdooo @projectcampbell @sebbystanlover-vk @jevans2 @hollarious @itsallyscorner @tcc-gizmachine @saiyanprincessswanie @stuckysavedmylive @vicmc624​ @sebstanfan123​

[kanerallels]

"There is no unspoken thing between us."

"Well, that's a Catch-22. Because if you said there was, it would be spoken, and then you'd be a liar. So by saying there isn't, you're telling the truth, and admitting there is."

Marvel quote—and you know which couple this is for 😉

Oh, you KNOW I do!!!

Pairing: Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla

Word Count: 3,559

Warnings/Tags: Rated G (for the fetching green vest Kanan's wearing)

Read on AO3!

Having deep cover operatives in the Empire was an important part of running a spy network. They gave Kanan some of his best information and helped him sneak the objects of the Empire’s rage right out from under the ISB’s nose more often than not.

But it could be a little inconvenient when he needed to pick up data from them. Because it almost inevitably involved him getting into some kind of ridiculous disguise and sneaking into some place the Empire didn’t want him in.

Case in point, he thought wryly, smoothing down the front of the fancy vest he was wearing over his dress shirt. “How do I look?” he asked, his voice quiet enough that none of the guests around him could hear.

“Ridiculous as always,” Kasmir’s voice came from the earpiece he wore, and Kanan rolled his eyes. The rest of the Yellow Submarine’s crew had demanded that he wear it, partially because they were bored and partially because Kasmir claimed Kanan had a habit of not giving them proper updates about what was going on. So they’d hacked the security cameras, and Kanan was set up with an earpiece. “Otherwise you’re fine. Remind me what your plan is again?”

Claiming a glass of champagne from a nearby waiter, Kanan muttered, “Blend in while I wait for our contact to drop off the intel at the dead drop, then go there as soon as I get the signal. After that I get the kriff out of here as soon as possible.”

As he took a drink of the bubbly drink, Ezra said, “Sounds boring. Actually, this whole party looks boring. Just a bunch of grown ups in fancy clothing drinking alcohol and sucking up to each other.”

“Welcome to adult parties for the rich and tyrannical,” Kasmir told him, and Kanan had to stifle a grin. “They all suck.”

Unfortunately, Kanan couldn’t disagree. The Empire’s parties mainly consisted of flaunting their fabulousness to everyone else, but really just came off as self-absorbed. Luckily for him, this particular party had been incredibly easy to sneak into.

Taking another sip from the champagne glass, Kanan swept a glance around the room again-- and spotted his contact. The light-haired man, clad in a dark dress uniform, swept out of a door, his steps brisk and business-like as he passed by. He didn't give Kanan a backwards glance, but Kanan could tell he knew he was there.

“Alright, I'm on the move,” he said softly.

“About time,” Kasmir complained. “This is incredibly boring.”

Stepping through the doorway his contact had come out of, Kanan pointed out, “You're the ones who wanted to listen in.”

“Yeah, but I prefer blaming you,” the Kalleran said as Kanan moved into the room. It was some kind of sitting room, with a few armchairs here and there, and a small table in one corner.

Tuning out Kasmir, who was continuing to grumble, Kanan began searching the room. The table turned up nothing, so he moved to one of the armchairs. Dropping into it, he slid his hands down the side and into the cracks. A grin spread across his face as one hand encountered a slim rectangular shape. Bingo.

Pulling the datacard out, Kanan slipped it into the pocket of his vest. Cutting off Kasmir, he said, “I've got the intel. On my way out.”

He slipped out of the sitting room again, and a quick glance around the room made it clear that he’d been neither missed nor spotted. Time to get out of here, he thought.

Making a beeline for the door, Kanan paused to swipe a mini jogan cream cake from a waiter. He popped it in his mouth-- and nearly choked at the sound of a familiar laugh. A far too familiar laugh.

Spinning around, Kanan searched the crowd behind him. No way. No kriffing way. But even as he thought it, his gaze landed on where a handful of people were dancing to the elegant music in the background. And his eyes were drawn to a green-skinned Twi’lek woman, dancing with an Imperial officer and wearing a smile he knew had to be fake.

Some kind of makeup obscured the markings on Hera’s lekku, and she was a ways away from Kanan, but he’d recognize her anywhere. Especially that voice, which he could hear speaking in her native Ryl accent even from that distance. Who knew she had an accent? He mused.

“KANAN!!”

Kanan nearly jumped when he heard Kasmir shout his name in his earpiece. “Kriffing-- don’t do that,” he hissed, turning away from the crowd so no one would see him moving his lips.

“What are you hesitating for? It’s time to get out of there,” Kasmir urged. “We’re not even supposed to be here, ya know.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Kanan said. “I just, uh, might not be back right away.”

“What? Why not-- oooh. Mini kid, check the cams.”

“On it!” Ezra chirped in the background.

Ignoring them, Kanan turned back to the crowd, scanning until he spotted Hera again, still dancing with the same Imp, her movements graceful. What is she doing here? If someone spots her-- okay, calm down, Kanan. She can take care of herself, and you’re not technically responsible for watching her back.

No matter how much you wished you were, whispered some part of him, the part of him that occasionally told him to please forget all of the spy stuff and talk to Hera.

In his ear, there was a gasp. “I KNEW IT. Hera’s here, guys!!!” Ezra’s voice was unreasonably excited as he spoke. “What is she doing here? Kanan, does she know you’re here? Are you gonna talk to her? What do you think she’ll--”

“Kasmir,” Kanan said, cutting off his apprentice, “I’m going off coms. I’ll be back in a bit.”

“You’re doing WHAT? Wait, kid, don’t you dare--”

Kasmir's voice was abruptly cut off as Kanan plucked his earpiece out and stuck it in his pocket. He had no doubt he'd be getting a good chewing out over this later from Kasmir. But Kanan also had a feeling it would be worth it.

He headed toward the dancers, weaving through the crowd and keeping his gaze locked on Hera. As he drew closer, he felt his heartbeat pick up slightly.

Hera was always beautiful, there was no denying that. When Kanan had first met her, he'd been literally incapable of speech standing across from her. And he had a feeling he was going to have a very similar problem now.

She wore a dark red dress, the short sleeves made of a dark gauzy fabric. Silver lace patterns covered the whole thing, shimmering in the light with Hera's every movement. It was mesmerizing.

Kanan suddenly realized he was staring. Kriff. Alright, try and focus, Jarrus.

Slipping past a few more guests, he stepped out of the crowd and onto the dance floor just as Hera and her partner moved up near him. “May I cut in?” he asked.

The Imperial officer dancing with Hera looked like he wanted to argue, but one glance at Kanan changed his mind quickly. He stepped back, and Kanan moved forward smoothly, sweeping Hera back into the dance.

Hera’s gaze flicked up to him, a demure smile crossing her face-- and Kanan saw the moment when she realized it was him and not some Imperial. “Wha-- Kanan?”

~ ~ ~

As Hera gaped at him in shock, she saw a grin crossing Kanan’s face. “I’d bet this is the last place you expected to see me,” he said, his deep voice low and remarkably self satisfied.

“You could say that,” Hera agreed, recovering quickly.

It hadn’t been too difficult to slip into the party. All Hera had had to do was bat her eyelashes a few times and the Imps were basically falling over themselves to let her in. While it was useful, it did also get on her nerves a little, even if she was used to the way most people looked at her species these days.

Kanan, on the other hand, didn’t exactly have the same qualifications. Frowning, she asked, “How did you get in here?”

“Does it matter?” Kanan kept his voice low as they kept dancing, and Hera had to admit-- he was a good dancer, better than she would have expected.

He was also dressed better than she would have expected-- a crisp olive green dress shirt, the sleeves pushed up, under an emerald green vest with a high collar, trousers of the same olive green, and brown boots. His hair was back in it’s usual ponytail, and he wore a slight grin.

He looked good-- which Hera would never give him the satisfaction of admitting. She would only admit to herself how her heartbeat sped up slightly at his proximity, at the feeling of his hand resting on her waist.

Taking a quick breath, she said, “Probably not. Although I do wonder what you’re doing here, I have to admit.”

“Free hors d’oeuvres,” Kanan said breezily. “Nothing tastes better than expensive Imperial wine, especially when you’re not supposed to drink it. How about you? I have a feeling you’re not here for the canapes, or whatever they’re serving.”

“Not exactly,” Hera said. “But I’m not sure talking to you about it is the best idea. After all, you’ve made it very clear you’re not interested.”

“Really? That’s what you think? I thought you knew that wasn’t true at all.”

Giving him a look, Hera said, “In the cause.”

“Oh, that.” Kanan made a face. “I liked what I was talking about better.”

“I’m sure you did.”

A slight smile curved Kanan’s mouth, and he studied her for a few seconds as they danced. “When are we going to do something about this unspoken thing we have going on?”

“What?” Hera blinked, surprised that he’d actually said something. “No-- there’s no unspoken thing between us.”

Shrugging, Kanan deftly spun her out as he said, “Well, that’s a Catch-22, because if you said there was, it would be spoken and you’d be a liar. So by saying there isn’t--” he pulled her back in, this time closer than she had been. Hera felt her heartbeat pick up again at the sheer closeness of him.

“--you’re telling the truth and admitting there is,” Kanan finished. His gaze caught hers, and he studied her for a moment with those teal eyes of his. Hera saw his eyes drop to her lips, and caught her breath, wondering for a moment what he would do, and how she would react to it.

Focus, Hera, she told herself sternly. You need to finish up here and get back to the crew. Clearing her throat, she said, “I don’t really have time for your flirting, dear. I have a mission to finish, sooner rather than later.”

“What’s your rush?” Kanan asked lightly.

“Well, let’s just say I have a new crew member, and I’d prefer to get back before she destroys the ship,” Hera said wryly. “She’s a little… temperamental.”

“Sounds like fun,” Kanan said. “Alright, how can I help?”

Giving Kanan an unimpressed look, Hera said, “We just had this conversation. You don’t want anything to do with the cause.”

“You know me so well,” Kanan said, smirking. “But I’m not doing this for the cause. Trust me.”

The pointed intonation at the end of his sentence didn’t really surprise Hera. However, that wasn’t exactly about to change her answer. “That’s not terribly reassuring,” she said.

“Hey, you know I’m capable,” Kanan pointed out. “And you don’t have to trust me here. But I’m willing to help.

“Alright-- what are you asking in return?” Hera asked.

To her surprise, a stung look flashed across Kanan’s face. “Nothing. I’m not always looking for some kind of payout, you know.”

Kriff. Hera grimaced, well aware she’d put her foot in her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she said, coming to a stop on the dance floor and making sure she had Kanan’s attention. “That was stupid of me. You’re right, and I should have seen it. I know you better than that.”

And she did, strange though it seemed.

“Thanks,” Kanan said quietly, his voice serious for once. He paused, then said, “Now where are we going?”

Hera paused, darting a glance around the room. Luckily, the owner of the house was distracted at the bar. “This way,” she told him, grabbing him by the hand. She pulled him off the dance floor and through the crowd, heading for a door on the far side of the room. Kanan followed her willingly, and together they slipped through the door in question.

The door led them into a dark hallway, and Hera led the way forward, Kanan on her heels. “Let’s hope we don’t run into any other party-goers,” she muttered. “This could be a potential awkward situation.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I hear public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable,” Kanan suggested, and Hera let out a sigh.

“Do you ever stop?”

“Not unless I have to. What’s the plan here?”

“I’m trying to break into the main office,” Hera told him. “It should be a little ways away from here. All you need to do is watch my back. Oh, and come up with a good excuse if we’re caught.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Kanan said easily. “Just lead the way, Captain Hera.”

They didn’t have far to go before they reached the door Hera had been looking for, and stepped inside. The office was large and elaborate, with wood panelling and an extremely expensive vase on the desk.

Moving behind the desk, Hera booted up the console and pulled up her skirt to reveal the holster strapped to her leg, holding her blaster and a datacard to download the intel she needed. Pulling out the datacard, she glanced at Kanan, fully expecting him to be watching her.

To her surprise, he had his gaze fixed on the door, and was rather steadfastly not looking at her. Maybe he’s got a bit of chivalry left after all, Hera mused. Who would have thought?

She let her skirt drop and inserted the datacard into the console, tapping at the screen to find the information she needed. “This shouldn’t take more than a few minutes,” she told Kanan.

Glancing back at Hera, Kanan said, “Well, that’s good. This way, we might have time for something else. Maybe a little more dancing, that kind of thing.”

“What part of ‘I need to get back to my ship before a teenage Mandalorian tears it to pieces’ did you not understand?” Hera shot back.

“Oh, come on,” Kanan said with a sigh. “Seriously, though-- when was the last time you did anything for yourself instead of your cause? You deserve a night off.”

“And it just happens to be with you?” Hera said, feeling a smile twitch across her lips in spite of herself.

Kanan shrugged nonchalantly, a gleam in his eye. “It’s an added bonus.”

“Hmm.” For a moment, Hera let herself think about what it would be like to just spend the rest of the night out. Dancing, food, maybe a little flirting. It sounded fun. Like something she might have done in a different world, if she hadn’t been fighting the Empire, and she’d met Kanan under different circumstances. “That sounds… nice. Fun, even.”

“Can’t let the Empire stop you from having fun,” Kanan pointed out, leaning against the desk as he caught her gaze. “I’ll buy you a drink. Who knows, you might even enjoy yourself--”

Then Hera saw him freeze, his eyes going wide. “What is--” she started, and the door hissed open.

“Wha-- what are you doing in here?” demanded a brusque Imperial voice, and the owner of the house stalked into view. Hera saw a “well, kriff” expression flash across Kanan’s face.

“Wait-- are you--” the owner started. Moving fast, Kanan grabbed the vase on the desk, spun around and smashed it over the man’s head.

As the Imp crumpled to the ground, Kanan turned to Hera. “Time to go,” he said.

“Definitely,” Hera said as the console let out a beep. “I have what I need anyways.” Pulling out the datacard, she slipped it back into her holster, and she and Kanan made for the door.

They hadn’t gotten far before an alarm started going off. “Looks like we’ve been spotted,” Kanan muttered, his brows furrowing.

“Do you have a ride out of here?” Hera asked.

“Yeah-- follow me.”

Kanan headed back the way they’d come, pushing open the door that lead into the room where the party was being held. Hera hesitated for a second, then darted after him as he shouldered his way through the somewhat confused crowd.

They’d made it halfway through the crowd when the doors burst open, and an irate voice shouted, “STOP THAT TWI’LEK!!”

Hera heard Kanan breathe a curse quietly as she pulled her blaster out from under her dress. “Keep things stealthy until we don’t have to,” she muttered.

“Yeah, that’s going really well so far,” he hissed.

“You’re the one who smashed a vase over someone’s head!”

“Well, you shot down my other idea!”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Hera said, “So help me, you’re going to drive me--”

She was cut off by a hand clamping down onto her shoulder. “Here she is!” someone shouted. “I’ve caught the intrud-- ugh!”

Hera spun smoothly, twisting away from the man who’d grabbed her, and slammed her fist into his throat. As the man dropped to the ground, clutching at his throat, Kanan grabbed her by the hand and pulled her forward. “Remind me never to make you that mad,” he said.

“You’ve come very close, dear,” Hera shot back.

“Have I mentioned you look amazing tonight?”

“You’re not helping your situation. Wait-- are we heading for the window?”

“You’re about to find out how I got into this place,” Kanan said, a grim smile crossing his face.

Releasing Hera’s hand, he didn’t stop in his tracks as he grabbed a bar stool and heaved it through the window, shattering the glass. Shards of it flew everywhere, and Hera heard screams as Kanan came to a stop next to the window.

“Come on!” he said, holding out his hand.

Hera darted forward, glancing down as Kanan’s hand wrapped around hers. A speeder was parked a few feet below them. “Creative,” she observed.

“I’m a creative guy,” Kanan quipped, then ducked as blaster fire zipped past them. Lifting her own blaster, Hera shot back at the stormtroopers who were flooding into the room. “Time to go!” Kanan said, and jumped, Hera leaping after him.

They landed in the speeder in an undignified pile, and Kanan immediately scrambled into the passenger’s seat. “Get us out of here!”

“On it,” Hera said, switching on the speeder and tossing Kanan her blaster. “Make yourself useful, please!”

“Yes, Captain Hera,” Kanan said, lifting his blaster and firing at the stormtroopers that were crowding into the window. Hera let out a triumphant sound as the engines roared to life.

“We’re out of here.” Slamming on the acceleration, they leaped forward. Kanan let out an undignified yelp, and Hera suppressed a smile as they zipped away from the building and into traffic.

It didn’t take them long to disappear, out of sight from the Imperials. Leaning back in his seat, Kanan remarked, “It’s been way too long since I’ve flown with you. You’re still as incredible as you used to be.”

Hera felt a small smile flash across her face. Kanan’s real compliments were somehow much nicer than his casual flirting. “Thanks. Now, where are we heading?”

“You can drop me off up here,” Kanan said, pointing. “It’s not technically my speeder, so you can take it wherever you need to go.” Pausing, he added, “Or we could find something to eat. Have a drink, maybe…”

Hera found herself hesitating, to her own surprise. Because part of her wanted to say yes, which she definitely didn’t expect. Maybe some of that flirting was actually starting to rub off on her.

But at the end of the day, she was working with the Rebellion, and Kanan refused to commit to something like that. And she really did have to get back. “Not this time,” she said, bringing them to a stop at the roadside. “I have work to do. Thank you, though, for your help with this.”

“Any time,” Kanan said, giving her a half-smile. “Until next time, Captain Hera.” Catching hold of her hand, he bent down and pressed a gentle kiss against the back of it.

Hera’s eyes widened, a slight flush spreading over her at the unexpected gesture, and Kanan shot her a wink. “Couldn’t let you leave without a souvenir, could I?” He vaulted over the side of the speeder and headed down the street, looking supremely satisfied.

Despite herself, Hera felt a smile crossing her face. Typical Kanan. Gunning the engines, she took off down the street, heading back to the Ghost and her next mission. Trying to pretend like a certain gunslinger wasn’t still in the back of her mind.

She had a feeling that wouldn’t work very well, though. Kanan never made things like that easy. But Hera was starting to wonder if she actually minded.