#to go work a job where I don’t get a shred of respect from anyone outside my office

[sassmill]

I love that nobody is allowed to have a bad day except my mother

[ms-fandomgirl]

BBHG: Tonkatsu (Ch. 4)

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Words: 5,291

Summary: A chance encounter in the Shibuya Train Station leaves you with a sore shoulder and a mysterious bento box. You’re willing to write the incident off and move on, otherwise preoccupied with navigating a new city and a new job, but a bombastic blond, meddling friend, and fate itself seem to have other plans.

Genre: Pro Hero AU, fluff, strangers to lovers, medical setting

Links: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist | Cross-posted on Ao3!

Tonkatsu - A Japanese dish consisting of a breaded, deep-fried pork cutlet. It is often served as a set meal with shredded cabbage, rice, miso soup, and pickles.

A crescendo of loud voices and heavy footfalls crested over you as you neared your destination. You grimaced, wanting to turn around and go back home, although that wasn’t an option here. Unfortunately, you weren’t in the train station. Those people you could handle. These were a different breed all together, and one you would rather die than face. In front of you, surrounding the main entrance to the hospital, was a sea of overly-eager reporters.

News of where Red Riot and Chargebolt were staying must have gotten leaked to the general public, although it also wouldn’t have been too difficult to figure out. Your hospital was the biggest one in the area, and it was also closest to where the attack had occurred. You tried to sneak around the outskirts of the mob attempting to get in, but your blue scrubs gave you away.

“Excuse me, do you work here?” one reporter asked, a young woman with pointed glasses and even pointier eyebrows drawn onto her face. You nodded quickly and tried to continue on your path, but it was too late. The crowd descended.

“Do you work with Red Riot and Chargebolt?”

“What are the conditions of the heroes?”

“Would you be willing to offer up a tour of the facility for an exclusive interview with our team?”

“When will the heroes be released from the hospital?”

They were most likely accosting you simply because you worked at the hospital. They had no reason to know that you did in fact work with Red Riot and Chargebolt. Still, you began to sweat at the thought that they had somehow figured it out, that they were targeting you specifically, and that they wouldn’t let you go until they had wrung every last detail from your body.

“I can’t answer your questions right now! I’m just trying to get to work,” you responded, trying to push your way through. This, however, was the wrong thing to say. You thought your answer was neutral, but the reporters latched on to your statement like a dog sinking its teeth into a prime cut of steak.

“So you confirm that you have information on the heroes Red Riot and Chargebolt?”

“If not now, then when would we be able to set up an interview with you?”

“What is it like to play nurse for two of the top ten? Are they still as charmingly handsome while infirmed? Hero Heartthrob wants to know.”

The last comment made your memory flash to a serene-looking Chargebolt, in a coma for the foreseeable future, and your blood began to boil. Who even were these people, to demand such things from you or anyone else for that matter?

“Don’t you have something better to do than harassing any poor medical personnel who enters these doors? What about reporting on the families of the injured civilians, or the manhunt for the villain? Go do your actual job and leave me alone to do mine.”

The reporters quieted in shock, and you braced yourself for the flurry of backlash that was sure to be unleashed your way. But it never came. Instead, their gazes morphed into something close to fear as the silenced stretched on. You failed to suppress a small smirk in victory, happy that even if you didn’t have their respect, as you doubted they ever respected anyone, you at least had their attention.

However, as they continued to stare at you, you began to feel a little uneasy, since they weren’t clearing a path for you either. You looked at the girl with pointy glasses who you now realized wasn’t staring at you, but at something directly behind your ear. You turned to look, but a deep voice boomed from behind, freezing you in place.

“You heard her. Scram.”

It was amazing to see how quickly the reporters could move when pressured. They parted cleanly down the middle, fleeing like beetles who had their dark log overturned and exposed to the sunlight. You finally turned to face one very ticked-off Bakugou, complete in full hero costume with a backpack slung over his shoulder, his arms crossed over his chest and a frown dipping the edges of his lips.

Despite his expression, you couldn’t help your small smile of gratitude. Playfully rolling your eyes, you motioned to the door, holding it open for him to enter. “You know, I thought that the reporters were actually scared of me for a second there. It felt nice.”

He chucked low in his chest, refusing your offer until you went in first. “It was quite a sight to walk up on: seeing some random nurse mouth off to a bunch of reporters like that. It was almost impressive, if you had upped your intimidation factor more.”

You huffed in frustration. “Would it kill you to give an actual compliment?”

“Yes.”

His words were harsh, but there was a slight bounce to his step that indicated he wasn’t completely serious. However, as the two of you made your way to the special ICU wing, his footfall became heavy, and all mirth slipped from his body replaced with a somber resignation. The change in atmosphere dampened your mood as well, and even more so as you heard raised voices coming from room 3307.

“I just don’t understand why I wasn’t informed of this decision until right now,” Gia said, her piercing voice echoing off the walls. She was standing in the center of the room, her arms crossed as she was facing Dr. Hiyashi with thinly veiled contempt.

For his part, Dr. Hiyashi looked surprisingly calm, although very weary from yesterday’s events. “The decision was made by myself and other nursing administrators. I appreciate your concern for these two top priority patients, but overall the hospital needs your talents of Diagnosis with the larger multitude of other patients.”

“But I could ensure that they are provided with whatever care they might need. Much more accurately than she could.”

Her attention had turned to you, standing awkwardly at the entrance of the doorway. You weren’t sure whether you were allowed to enter during this conversation, but it seemed now that the choice had been made for you. You opened your mouth to respond, but then closed it. She might have been throwing a fit, but you couldn’t help but feel there was some truth to her words. It was a concern that had kept you up last night, when you had been replaying the day in your mind, and it surfaced once again, trying to drag you down into the depths of uncertainty. 

“Oh yeah? What’s she doing wrong, then? If my friends aren’t being taken care of, I want to know.” Bakugou took this chance to make his presence known, stepping out from behind you. Gia’s eyes, which had previously been glaring at you, widened in surprise at his appearance. She at least had the good sense to look chagrined by her previous statement, now knowing that she had an audience.

She blinked, regaining her composure before giving Bakugou her most practiced smile. “I was just implying that if something did go wrong, my quirk Diagnosis would be much better suited for caring for them.”

She had dodged his question, and Bakugou didn’t appreciate it in the slightest. “She’s already been taking care of them for a full day now. If something’s wrong with them, then you should be able to tell, right? Use your quirk to see.”

She looked over at Dr. Hiyashi, who simply shrugged. It was obvious he wanted this conversation over with. She sauntered over to Red Riot first, reaching out to touch his shoulder. The tell-tale green glow that emanated from her hand signaled that her quirk was in use. After several seconds, she retracted her hand, making a show of staring intensely staring at his monitors. She did the same to Chargebolt, walking back to the center of the room with a hand on her chin. The average onlooker would think she was troubled by something, but you knew that look to be one of calculation. A pit formed in your stomach as you realized she was planning something. 

“Well?” Bakugou demanded, his full force directed at Gia. He stepped closer to her, not enough to be in her personal space, but enough that she had to look up to meet his gaze. “Stop the scheming and give me an answer. I don’t have all day.”

Your eyebrows raised and so did hers, shocked at being caught. She swallowed, attempting to clear her throat before answering. “Chargebolt is in perfectly fine condition right now, and so is Red Riot.”

“Then what are you still doing here?” He pointed back to you. “She can obviously handle things by herself.”

“But if something happened unexpectedly-”

“I’m sure could also handle it because that’s literally her job. Just like it’s your job to work somewhere else. I don’t get what’s so confusing about this.”

Gia was the first to break eye contact, glancing down to the side. You almost felt bad for her. Being on the receiving end of Bakugou’s bluntness looked like an absolute nightmare. Then again, with the number of times she had made your life miserable, you mainly felt a sense of second-hand victory.

“We can continue this conversation elsewhere,” she said, turning to Dr. Hiyashi. While she couldn’t bring herself to admit defeat, she did exit the room as fast as she could, not even sparing you a glance as you left. Your gaze landed on Bakugou, who had a smirk plastered on his face as he watched her leave.

Dr. Hiyashi coughed into his hand, drawing the attention back on him. “While I might agree with the sentiments you spoke out about, I must ask you to refrain from speaking to any staff under my care in that manner again.”

You thought Bakugou might try to pick a fight with him as well, but it seemed as though even he could put on a filter when necessary. He gave a quick bow of his head in apology to the man. “I understand, Doc. As long as she doesn’t come in here and try to start running things again, we won’t have a problem.”

‘So close,’ you thought, watching Dr. Hiyashi’s shoulders sag. He rubbed his temple, pushing up the hair on his forehead. You swore you heard the words “it’s too early for this” mumbled from his lips. Nonetheless, he turned to face you, holding out a clipboard.

“We’re still doing some blood work on them, but for right now, things continue to remain the same. We’re also still trying to determine the exact composition of the toxins flowing through their system. I’ll let you know when more results come back. For now, you’ve been doing a good job at keeping things stable.”

You nodded, and he left as well, eager to be out of the room. Now only you and Bakugou remained. Despite the tap of his foot, he did seem to relax a little once it was just the two of you. His shoulders loosened, and he stretched his arms high above his head before wandering over to the side of both of his friends’ beds, inspecting their faces closely before sitting on the couch.

“Thank you.”

You broke the silence with a low bow to the man on the couch. It was perhaps a little humiliating, but after the stunt he just pulled against Gia, you thought it might be okay to stroke his ego, just this once.

He grinned in response. “Believe me when I say that it was my pleasure. She seemed like a pain, and I definitely would rather deal with you over her.”

“Of course…” you trailed off. You’re not sure whether to be flattered by the statement.

To take your mind off of the enigma that was Bakugou, you look down at the clipboard in your hands. The blood tests that had come back already showed no other symptoms or new areas of concern, which you considered a win. However, the toxin seemed to keep them in this comatose state, with no progress made toward uncovering its nature or cure. You adjusted the IVs according to the doctor’s notes, in hopes of flushing out the toxins from Chargebolt’s body.

You had zoned in on your work, focusing only on Chargebolt and momentarily forgetting the other person in the room. However, as you turned away from your patient’s bed, you were met with Bakugou’s garnet gaze, focused completely on you as you worked. You cleared your throat, suddenly feeling slightly nervous, and he seemed to snap out of whatever thoughts he was buried in.

“Do you eat lunch here?”

The question threw you off guard, and you scrambled for the right words. “Like, as in here here? No. But as in the hospital here? Most of the time, although I didn’t have enough time to make a lunch last night, so I’ll have to stop by a convenience store.”

He squinted his eyes, appearing to weigh the options of his next words in his head. “Don’t.”

“Huh?” you asked intelligently. “I need to eat, Bakugou.”

He rolled his eyes. “I know that. Eat with me, dumbass. It’s my turn anyways.”

With that, he reached into his backpack, pulling out a bento wrapped in pale orange cloth. Your heart stuttered in your chest before beating with increasing intensity. He had cooked for you, again. And not only had he cooked for you, but now he wanted to eat with you too?

“What’s on the menu?” you joked, trying to take your mind off of the glaring implications of eating lunch with Bakugou.

He gave you a cutting smile in response. “You’ll just have to come back and see, but I promise it’ll be the best damn thing you ever ate.”

His words were extremely cocky, but you couldn’t help but believe him. They rattled around in your mind for the rest of your shift like loose coins in a dryer, incessant words that resurfaced right when you were beginning to think you were over them. Of course, it didn’t help that you had told Hina about the whole interaction, and she now shot you suggestive eyebrow raises and winks every time you looked in her direction.

Just as your luck would have it, you were incredibly busy. You counted down as the minutes ticked by, first in anticipation, and then in dread once your lunch break hit but you were still on your feet. You tried to finish your tasks as quickly as you could, but between chatty patients and an influx of visitors, you bitterly watched your lunch break slip away until a meager 15 minutes remained.

You all but sprinted to the special wing of the hospital in the time you had left, needing a moment to compose yourself before entering room 3307. Bakugou was right where you left him, leaning forward on his elbows and lost in thought as he examined a mess of papers he had spread out on the coffee table. Upon your entrance, he looked up, his trance broken. He flashed a grin before beginning to shove the papers into a manila folder.

“Almost thought you ditched me,” he said, motioning you to sit in the chair closest to him.

You complied, fighting the urge to wring your hands. “I got caught up in my shift, unfortunately. It felt like everyone had something to say to me today, which isn’t awful, but you know, definitely puts me behind. I’m sorry to make you wait.”

He shrugged, passing you the pale orange bento box before fishing around in his backpack. After a second of digging, he was successful, pulling out a sage green bento with small, smiling hand grenades decorating the fabric. He flinched as you couldn’t contain the laugh bubbling from your throat at the sight.

“It was a gag gift from Shitty Hair over there, after he noticed I kept bringing my lunches wrapped up in that orange one. Said it was ‘manly’ or some shit.”

He rolled his eyes as he said it, but you noticed that once unwrapped, he folded the fabric into a neat square before setting it beside him, away from the food. His gaze turned to you, and you realized he was waiting for you to open the box still clasped in your hands. You unwrapped it with care. Taking in a deep breath, a broad smile crossed your face as you hummed in satisfaction.

Neatly cut and almost professionally presented in the bento was the best looking tonkatsu you had ever seen. The pork cutlet was fried to perfection, with small flecks of red in the otherwise golden batter denoting a hint of something spicy. Next to it was a bed of shredded cabbage with thinly sliced pickles on top. On the second layer, furikake rice took up the majority of the space, with blanched greens and a sliced tomato occupying the left corner in lieu of the traditional miso.

You licked your lips in anticipation, muttering a quick blessing of thanks before eagerly picking up your chopsticks. You loved the taste of fried food, but you hated the act of actually frying it. That’s part of the reason you were so impressed with the tonkatsu. Then again, with a quirk that literally creates explosions, you supposed a little hot oil wouldn’t be an issue. The other reason you were so impressed with the tonkatsu, was because, well -

“This is amazing,” you mumbled, mouth full of food.

“I told you it would be the best.” Bakugou preened at your compliment, almost glaring at you accusingly for your lack of faith. 

You held your hands up in mock surrender. “And I believed you! I had my doubts from the curry, but ever since the mapo tofu and now this, I have full faith in your cooking.”

At that, he let out a small choke, swallowing his rice hastily before replying, “Hey, what’s wrong with my curry?”

“You know what’s wrong with your curry!” you stressed. “It was too spicy. Plus, you used squash, which is a questionable choice to be sure.”

“What, you can’t eat your veggies?” he mocked.

You gave him an unimpressed look, making a show of shoveling the largest bite of cabbage and pickles you could get into your mouth. You chewed without breaking eye contact, smiling as you swallowed. “No, I like almost all vegetables, thank you very much. Just not squash.”

Your mind began to wander, the talk of vegetables reminding you of the myriad of plant life you have back at your apartment, courtesy of Shiozaki. “I’ve been experimenting with some different spices lately too. Ever since I moved, I have an abundance of them at my disposal.”

“You’re new here?”

“Moved to the city for my rotationals, although I hope to end up here one day. It’s definitely been a big change though.” You trailed off as you thought about your time in the city, with all of its challenges so far.

“I hope I can make it,” you murmured, more to yourself than to Bakugou, but he heard you easily in the otherwise silent room. 

“Aren’t you making it right now?” He gave you a quizzical look, and you averted your eyes before responding.

“Yes, but I’m still in school right now. It’s all structured. Once I graduate, I’ll be out on my own, and I’ll need to figure out a job, and friends, and my life, and-”

“And you will.”

You looked up at him, surprised by the finality in his tone. At your worry, he had tensed up once again, leaning forward on his elbows towards you with his eyebrows furrowed. You thought he would have joked about your rambling, but the glint in his eye was nothing but sincere.

“And how can you be so confident about that, hm?” You tried to draw out your question, make it sound more like a joke, but the words fell flat. You smiled, but you were certain that the underlying current of uncertainty made it look more like a grimace. 

“Because it’s true, if you have enough guts.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, hoping for more of an explanation than simply “guts,” but the tinny boom of a thousand tiny explosions rang throughout the room as his cellphone went off. You hid your laugh behind your hand as he answered. He seemed deeply pissed to be disturbed by whoever was on the other line, but surprisingly obedient. After what you would consider minimal grousing on his part, he ended the call, sighing as he began to pack up his backpack.

“Sorry, but the boss called. I have to go in for an emergency meeting,” he grumbled. He was frowning as he said it, and it almost seemed like he wanted to stay a little bit longer due to his slow movements.  He reached for your bento box out of instinct, but you leaned away, clutching the empty box to your chest.

“It’s my turn to cook now,” you grinned, shaking your head and holding the box as far away from him as you could.

He could have easily gotten it from you, but he quickly gave up, zipping up his backpack instead. “I guess it is. Better make me something good.”

You scoffed, gaining the courage to tease. “Don’t I always?”

At this, he fully laughed. “Yeah, you do.”

You beamed at the compliment, and Bakugou quickly looked away, fiddling with the straps of his backpack before standing up in a rush.

You thought nothing of it, walking with him out of the room and down the twisting hallways until you arrived at the entrance of the ICU wing. After giving one more heartfelt thanks for the meal, you watched him leave before returning to your regular duties, feeling time tick by just a little bit slower.

The rest of your afternoon was excruciatingly painful, not because you injured yourself, but because you were stuck behind the desk of the visitor’s check-in due to a nurse calling in sick last-minute. It wasn’t that you necessarily hated visitors. Most of them were just concerned family members, and you couldn’t fault them if they were a little weepy or frazzled. However, it seemed as though the majority of visits had occurred in the morning, and the waiting room was left unnaturally empty.

While the quiet was welcome, it was rather boring after a while, so you began to busy yourself with updating patient files within the system. It wasn’t the most fun work, and it was normally handed off to an intern or other assistant, but it was better than sitting there doing nothing. You had finally gotten into the flow when a soft cough sounded above you, ripping your focus away from the screen. 

You looked up, coming face-to-face with a humongous bouquet, all different varieties of flowers but all in some shade of vibrant red. The arrangement was beautiful, but it was so large that the person holding it was completely lost behind the florals.

“How can I help you?” you asked.

The flowers rustled before a timid voice spoke from behind them. You had to lean forward in order to even hear it. “Uh, I’m here to see Red Riot, if I can?”

Your shoulders dropped at the comment, happy that your exasperated expression was obscured by the gift. The agencies of both Red Riot and Chargebolt had released an official statement telling the public that all gifts for the heroes should be directed to them for both safety and privacy reasons. However, it seemed like this fan didn’t seem to get the memo. You were mildly surprised that they had even narrowed it down to your wing of the hospital specifically, but you figured that if the ravenous news reporters could figure it out, a devoted fan could as well.

Nonetheless, you pasted on your best customer service face before answering. “I’m sorry! As officially announced by the Fatgum Agency, you need to direct all cards and gifts to them instead of us. I cannot accept this.”

The vase shook with more agitation, and a couple of lily petals scattered to the ground in the disturbance. “Oh, uh, you don’t understand! I’m not a fan of Kiri’s. I mean, I am a fan, but not just a fan. Um, I’m here to see how he’s doing and to drop this off on behalf of the Fatgum agency.”

After a moment of hesitation, during which more petals were dislodged, the vase was quickly set on the ground out of your view. The stranger stood up to properly introduce himself, but you were already gaping at him, heat rising to your cheeks in embarrassment. You were an idiot, a complete and utter idiot. You resisted the incredible urge to bang your head on the desk in front of you in frustration. How many times had you heard that voice before? Only every other lunch break. Hina would never let you hear the end of this.

Standing before you, hands fiddling with the strings of his indigo hoodie, was none other than the Number 12 Pro-Hero Suneater.

“Of-of course. I’m so sorry about the confusion.” This time it was your turn to trip over words.

“No, no it’s really my bad. I should have introduced myself properly. I’m sure you’ve gotten some excited fans already. Sorry,” he replied, looking down at the floor.

You wanted to tell him that it wasn’t his fault at all, and that you were the one who was in the wrong, but you knew the conversation would go on interminably. Previous interviews proved that to be the case. Instead, you shook your head, your air of customer service being replaced by a genuine smile.

“While I’d like to disagree with you about that, let’s just say it’s both of our faults and call it a truce, okay?”

He nodded in approval, giving up as you continued your spiel. “For protocol, do you have a valid form of identification on you? I just need to see it before you can go back and see Red Riot.”

His eyes widened in surprise, as though he had forgotten about this step. He began to rummage through his pockets, muttering apologies as he did so. You brushed them off with a chuckle, watching as he dug through the pockets of his pants, hoodie, and finally the jean jacket he was wearing on top if it. You had to admit, he might not have been your type on page, but in-person, he was pretty cute. Hina had a point.

‘Hina-’ you mused. ‘What she wouldn’t give to be here right now…’

“Here you go,” Suneater said, breaking your train of thought by finally producing his license to you. You took it from him quickly, looking at both sides just to be safe before returning it. Of course it was the real thing, because of course, this was the real Suneater before you. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

You stood up from your chair, walking over to the intercom on the wall. You coughed once, clearing your voice before pressing the button.

“Nurse Hina, please come to the visitor’s desk. Repeat: Nurse Hina, please come to the visitor’s desk. Special request. Over.”

You returned to your seat before glancing up at Suneater, who seemed rather alarmed by your actions. You tried to don a mask of cool professionalism, but you’re pretty sure the corner of your mouth twitched upward as you began to explain the situation to him.

“Nurse Hina has been placed with the specific task of caring for Red Riot during his stay. Both he and Chargebolt are being kept in a special access wing, so she will escort you to their room.”

Suneater relaxed at this statement, not noticing how your eyes sparkled with mischief. Sure, you had access to the same wing that Hina did, and yes, you were currently on duty for visitor requests specifically, but Suneater didn’t know that. If things went according to plan, he never would.

The sound of footsteps were rapidly approaching behind you, and you turned in your chair to see a flustered Hina.

“What’s happened? What’s wrong?” she gasped out.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice, Nurse Hina. A special request has come in to visit Red Riot, and as the presiding nurse in charge of his care, you will be escorting this visitor there.”

Hina looked at you with complete and utter confusion, and you silently begged her to play along. Your eyes darted back and forth to the visitor area where Suneater stood, and she had the good sense to follow your gaze before saying anything first.

You knew the exact moment she registered who was behind the window. Her spine instantly straightened, and her eyes grew wide until the whites were clearly visible. You subtly bumped her shoulder as you passed her to open the door, attempting to break her out of her stupor. It worked, and she followed you out of the door to properly greet Suneater, although she still looked like she was in a daze.

“Nurse Hina, this is Suneater. He’s come on behalf of the Fatgum agency to deliver this bouquet and to check on Red Riot. Suneater, this is Nurse Hina. She will be taking you to Red Riot’s room, and she is here to answer any questions you might have about him.”

The two bowed politely to each other, muttering basic formalities before Suneater bent over to pick up the absurdly large bouquet of flowers once again. He nearly dropped the vase a couple of times, clearly preoccupied as his gaze remained fixated on Hina instead of the object in his hands. He eventually used his quirk to provide extra stability so he could hold the flowers with one hand against his hip while still keeping his face uncovered. You swore Hina squeaked when she saw the tentacles come out.

At this point, it felt as though both people had completely forgotten your presence, but it didn’t bother you in the slightest. You watched the scene unfolding in front of you with unbridled glee.

“The flowers are beautiful. I’m sure he’ll love them once he wakes up,” Hina commented as she held the door open for him. You slipped in after them, going back to the desk as they continued down the hallway.

“I’m glad you think so. Fatgum made me pick them out. I don’t have much experience with doing that type of thing, but I know he likes the color red, and so I just chose some that seemed to work together,” Suneater mumbled, but Hina had caught every word he said.

She nodded enthusiastically. “And they do! I especially love the tiger lilies. They’re my favorite.”

Suneater latched on to the statement, giving her the first genuine smile you had seen from him all day. “Oh really? Mine too!”

Their voices faded as they walked down the hallway, and you squealed the second you were sure they were out of earshot. You didn’t hear from Hina for the rest of your shift, but if anything, you took that as an extremely good sign. The rest of the afternoon was uneventful in comparison, but it hardly mattered.

All you could think about was that, without a doubt, this was the most eventful day of your life. That, and you were officially the best friend ever in the whole entire world.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading this chapter! It was supposed to be a short one, but it ended up being the longest yet. Since it ended up so long and I traveled for the holiday season, I am unfortunately pushing the release of chapter 5 back to Dec. 8th (unless I miraculously write it in like 4 days). Sorry about that! I'm hoping that the extra time will be able to give me back the buffer I had built up before. Thanks so much for your understanding!

As always, reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated, but please do not repost here or on other platforms. However, fan arts, edits, or anything like that are beyond amazing and totally welcome! If you have a question about it, just ask me.

Tag List: @lavender99, @gold24fish, @bqkuho3, @satorulicious, @cringeycookies, @summrwalkr, @nyxmania, @poopoobuttsy, @st1rvoid, @kitzusune, @nindevorak, @stxrrielle, @cax-per, @kisskissshutmydoor

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[becca-e-barnes]

Take Care of Everything

This is my first ever fic for a writing challenge omg I’m so excited! Huge congratulations to @balenciagabucky for hitting 3K followers!! That’s such a huge milestone and thank you for organising such a fun challenge! So excited to read the rest of the submissions 💗 @dulceslibrary

Pairing: Personal Assistant! Bucky Barnes x Lawyer! Reader

Word Count: 3.5k maybe?

Summary: There’s only one thing in your life that your PA doesn’t take care of

Warnings: Smut, praise kink, pet names, protected sex (go me for writing something safe sex for a change), court mention, lil fluff, mile high club

Minors, do not interact.

“Un-fucking-believable.” You couldn’t stop the roaring boil of the blood in your veins, storming out of the court room with your long black gown billowing behind you. Being one of the top barristers in the country brought it’s fair share of high profile cases but this one had got on every last nerve in your body and you were out of patience.

The case itself wasn’t the problem. The issues were straightforward enough and applying law to fact, at the most basic level, your client had done nothing wrong. It should have been essentially cut and dry. The problem was the opposing council and the lack of intervention from the judge.

The prosecution had torn your witness to shreds. You had tried to warn the poor woman beforehand, as you did with every client, but on the stand, she had just crumbled under such an intense and downright ignorant line of questioning.

It shouldn’t have even been allowed in the first place. The judge should have stepped in and clipped the opposing council’s wings but the damage was already done and now you would have to pick the pieces up when court resumed on Monday.

“How did it go?” Your personal assistant must have been leaning outside the courtroom door for who knows how long, his suit somehow as neat and pristine as always, despite the fact it was the end of the day.

“Fucking dreadful, Terry was an asshole to Andrea and she lost it. Should’ve known he’d pull shit like that, he’s always a cunt on Friday evenings.” You practically spat the words out, heels clicking on the floor as you made your way down the marble hall to collect your things and begin to put an end to this miserable week.

Part of you almost wanted to laugh at how Bucky had developed the skill of being able to keep up with your pace without even having to look up from his blackberry. That only came from years of practice.

“Terry loves playing with fire. Fuck him. If anyone can put him in his place on Monday, it’s you.” Bucky still hadn’t taken a second to pull his nose up from his phone, his steps landing in perfect time with yours until you reached the chamber at the end of the hall, throwing the heavy wooden door open in front of you. Bucky filtered in behind you of course, closing the door behind him before slipping his phone neatly into his pocket.

“Thought your doctor warned you about your blood pressure? You gotta calm down.” Bucky’s face showed he was genuinely concerned, his eyebrows knitted together in disdain but there was nothing new there. He had worked for you for years now and truth be told, he was damn good at his job, not to mention the fact he was the closest thing to a friend your busy schedule allowed you to have.

“I’ll calm down when I’m dead. We need to get to the airport if we’re going to make that flight for the convention.” You pulled your wig off, setting it neatly into the little wooden closet before removing your gown, hanging it up alongside the other worn ones from earlier in the week so they could all be dry cleaned and back in the closet for Monday.

“It’s a private jet honey, it can’t leave without you.” Bucky laughed softly, knowing you were worked up and hoping a little joke would ease the tension.

You had to admit, you were so thankful for Bucky. He was devoting the prime of his life to making sure you had everything you needed, your life only felt so seamless because Bucky made it that way. He didn’t just manage your calendar and fetch you coffee like any other PA, he lived and breathed you. He went everywhere with you, crashing in your spare room at least three nights a week because you had both worked yourselves to exhaustion. He never missed anything. He had a solution for every problem, nothing was too big for him to tackle and given the chance, you two could absolutely take over the world one day. You confided in him, and he in you, getting to know every tiny detail of his life in the past few years, right down to that fact that neither of you had seen your family or been on a date in months. Hell, he’d went as far as buying you a packet of batteries one Monday after a particularly long and stressful court hearing.

“Here, got you these.” He had smiled mischievously as he handed them over to you, chuckling a little at your confused expression. “For your vibrator. Looks like it’s gonna be a long week.” You took them gratefully, joking with him that you really would need them, tucking them into your handbag and damn were they appreciated. The following morning he had asked how you had got on and you could only laugh. You didn’t tell him how thoughts of him had come into your head right as you had gotten close. Similarly, you didn’t tell him how painfully intense your orgasm had been when you imagined him on the bed with you, watching you come apart against the plastic toy. You could just picture his hungry gaze, watching how your body gushed as you released, nipples pebbled from arousal and your lips parted, a single whimper of his name escaping you as you rode out your high.

No, that was a little secret you would keep to yourself. He didn’t need to know your dirtiest fantasies. He was an employee. An employee that often arrived at your bedroom door shirtless and smirking, holding a stack of freshly made pancakes on the mornings he stayed over at yours but an employee nonetheless.

—————————

The cab ride to the airport would have been silent if it hadn’t been for the gentle tapping of your thumbs and Bucky’s racing over your respective phone screens. You had at least two dozen emails left to reply to and your eyelids were beginning to get heavy, the body heat radiating from Bucky in the cab’s back seat making you drowsy. You took a second, squeezing your eyes shut to force away the tiredness before going back to typing relentlessly.

The trip to the airport was short, Bucky had competed the preflight checkin so you essentially stepped straight onto the plane, taking a seat by the window, with Bucky taking the one opposite you. Takeoff was smooth as always, your phones picked back up as soon as it was safe to do so. But with the glowing screen came a fresh wave of drowsiness, your eyelids threatening to close of their own accord.

“Shit, Buck did you pack my -“

“Glasses? Left side of your bag, under the tissues.” Bucky finished your sentence for you, not looking up from his phone.

“And my -“

“Eye drops? In your makeup bag.” There it was again. What surprised you most was that Bucky didn’t even need to see you to work out exactly what was wrong.

“Do you really just take care of everything?” You huffed out a little laugh, digging through your bag, finding both your glasses and eye drops exactly where he told you they would be.

“Everything but you.” He chuckled, finally setting his phone down.

“What do you mean ‘everything but me’? All you ever do is take care of me. You organise my shopping and dry cleaning for god’s sake.” The whole notion of Bucky doing anything but taking care of you was just insane because you sure as hell didn’t have time to do any of those things for yourself. That’s what you hired him for after all.

“I didn’t mean like that. I meant like really take care of you. You’re so damn up tight.” You knew by the little chuckle that accompanied his words that he meant it affectionately but it still made you slightly defensive.

“I’m not up tight.” You protested. Normally you would’ve let harmless comments like that slide but the combination of your shitty day and the fact you were so sleepy made it impossible to not seek out conflict. This was the life you were used to after all. A life of treating almost everyone you came across adversarially. It was second nature to you at this point, inside and outside the courtroom.

“Come on, you seem to forget I am your calendar. You think I don’t know you haven’t gotten any in months? You should get laid, that’s all I’m sayin’. Wouldn’t kill you to have an orgasm every once in a while.” The words roll off his tongue like it’s nothing and truth be told, if you were in better form, this would have been a perfectly normal conversation between the two of you. Neither of you were particularly shy when it came to talking about your hookups.

You hated how right he was. You hated that you hadn’t been touched in months and Bucky knew that. You hated that most days, you were too exhausted to bother tending to your own needs. And you hated the warmth spreading through your body at the thought of Bucky finally taking care of you.

“Don’t know Buck, an orgasm might actually kill me with my high blood pressure.” You needed this conversation to turn more light hearted and you needed it fast, before your head became so clouded with need that Bucky picked up on it.

“I mean, I handle everything else for you. Wouldn’t even mind if that became part of my remit.” You almost couldn’t believe how carefree and nonchalant this whole conversation seemed, Bucky hoping you missed how he cock twitched in his trousers. Of course you didn’t. You missed nothing.

“If what became part of your remit?” You quizzed firmly, trying not to give anything away but knowing your eyes had gone big and doe-like, entirely of their own accord. This was a dream come true.

“You. Actually taking care of you. However you need.” His stare was intense, watching you keenly to determine whether he had horrendously overstepped and was about to get fired.

“Why would you even want to?” Your voice carried every single ounce of confusion you were feeling, staring Bucky down with an intensity that mirrored his own in that moment.

“You’re far too smart to act dumb.” He replied softly, knowing it was all or nothing now. If he was getting fired, he might as well be honest. His head tilted downwards, drawing your attention to the bulge growing in his suit trousers. Years worth of need and longing bubbling over all at once.

“If you want this, tell me. If not, that’s fine. But it doesn’t need to be anything romantic. Can be just sex. Whatever you want.” He was doing his very best to stay calm, his brain finally catching up with his mouth and considering that he was now in way too deep to just apologise and about to get his ass handed to him at thousands of feet in the air by one of the best legal minds in the world.

You’d never wanted anything more in your life. It was almost like Bucky was dangling himself in front of you. A piece of meat before a lion that could be snatched away at any second. You weren’t going to give him the chance, professionalism be damned. You were out of your seat and onto his lap in a flash, your pencil skirt hiked up to allow you to bracket his legs in your own.

“Are you sure about this?” Your quizzed softly, giving him one last chance to back out before you lost all self control.

“Do I feel like I’m not sure?” His voice was almost a choked whisper, his hands landing on your hips to press you down against his stiff cock.

You’d never seen him like this before. Horny and needy and losing himself in the feeling of you on top of him after years of fantasies. He had tried to curb the fantasies but his body didn’t allow him to. You were all he could think of on those lonely nights, a hand wrapped around his cock, groans and whimpers escaping until he came over his hand, a cry of your name pulled from his lips. He thought you would never know. And now here he was, the woman of his dreams perched in his lap, asking to be taken care of. Even the filthiest parts of his brain couldn’t have come up with this.

He could never have dreamt how you moved forward so tentatively, your lips hardly even touching his. He was used to seeing you confident, in control, the calmest person under pressure and yet here you were, unsure of yourself for the first time, he imagined, in your life. You both kept your eyes open for a little while, your lips sliding together gently, getting a feel for one another, up until your teeth sank into the plush skin of his bottom lip and an actual groan left him, his eyelids fluttering shut. The sound could’ve made you quiver with need. It was so alarmingly sexy, knowing your huge, sexy PA could be taken apart with the smallest touches. Suddenly, this seemed to be as much, if not more, for Bucky’s benefit than your own.

“Thought this was for me, hm?” Somehow your condescending court voice was pushing him over the edge. You felt one of his hands come up, tangling in your hair while the other wrapped around your waist, pulling your core flush with his clothed cock. He kissed you with a burning intensity that made your head swim and your pussy throb, loving how he was taking control but still hurtling further into a breathless, needy state.

“You’ve no idea how long I’ve thought about this. Didn’t think we’d be joining the mile high club.” He huffed out a little light laugh, using his grip on your waist to help you roll your hips over his growing erection.

“Couldn’t have been thinking about this for as long as I have.” You smiled softly, letting out a little gasp as his cock nudged you just right through your panties that you were sure had been soaked through already. His eyes went wide at your admission, his dick twitching deliciously underneath you.

“Fuck, that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.” He whispered, making you laugh at how eager he was.

“I won’t be able to wait until we’re off this plane Bucky. You gonna fuck me right here?” You teased him softly, your faces so close, your tiny hands running down his pristine shirt, toying with the buttons. When you began to graze his chest gently with your nails, it was like a switch flipped inside Bucky. He thrust up against you with a growl loving the yelp you let out, one hand now squeezing your ass, the other massaging your breasts through your blouse.

“Gonna fuck all the stress out of you. Gonna have you leavin’ this plane leakin’ and cockdrunk.” Somehow you didn’t even doubt his words and you had to admit, it did sound quite appealing to give up the control for a while, just letting Bucky take over.

“Gimme all you’ve got Barnes. Gotta make it worth my while or this is gonna be the last time you get the chance.” You couldn’t help but tease him before instantly realising that might have been a mistake, his lips burning hot as they worked against your own, needy, insistent and as always, eager to please.

His mouth was relentless to the point that you found yourself practically dry humping his cock, your hands laced in his hair while his untucked your blouse from your skirt, greedily holding onto any skin he could reach. He tasted of peppermint and coffee, smelt like the expensive aftershave you were so fond of and felt like a man who’s only purpose in life was to make you cum until it hurt.

“Need you. ‘Nside me. Now.” You managed somehow to pant the words out between the fervent slide of his lips over yours, his tongue dipping in to taste you, never wanting this to end.

The feeling of your much smaller hands landing on his belt buckle made him look down but he could’ve cum then and there at the sight that met him. The front of his suit pants were slick with your mess, proof that he wasn’t just dreaming and you really were needing this just as badly as he was.

“You’re so fuckin’ ready for it aren’t you? Look at the mess you’ve made. Why didn’t we do this years ago?” He was groaning, shifting in his seat to help you get his trousers and boxers down. You couldn’t help how you gasped a little at the sheer size of him, his cock thick and long, the head slick with precum, proud veins running up his shaft. He looked Godly. Two firm pumps was all it took to have his head thrown back against the plush leather seat, cursing and bucking against your hand, aching for more.

“I’m sorry Buck, I can’t wait any longer.” You panted, his lips attached to your neck now, kissing, licking and sucking all his frustration into your skin. If there was a time for foreplay, that wasn’t it. Neither of you had the patience right now.

“Thank God, needa feel this pretty pussy.” He all but whispered as you lined him up at your soaking entrance.

“Shit Bucky, you got a condom?” You asked anxiously, stilling yourself at the last second.

“My bag, zip compartment at the front.” He replied quietly and sure enough, that’s exactly where you found a packet. Tearing the wrapper off, you slid it down his length earning another groan from the huge man who was practically shaking beneath you.

“You think of everything.” You giggled, finally beginning to slowly sink yourself down onto him. Your laugh quickly turned into a breathy moan, your breath mingling with Bucky’s and you noticed how he made a very similar noise. You pressed yourself down slowly, your body having to adjust to the stretch.

“So tight, fuck. Shit, never felt a tighter pussy in my life.” He whispered when you were finally seated on top of him. He pulled your skirt out of the way to appreciate just how connected your bodies were in that moment. His cock just seemed to fit perfectly, so snug you could’ve cried as you began to slowly work your hips against his.

“Oh my god Bucky you’re huge.” You should’ve been embarrassed by how high and needy your whine came out but right then and there, you didn’t care.

“It’s all yours sweetheart. Gonna fuck you so good you never need another cock again. Gonna ruin anyone else for you - fuck.” Under normal circumstances you would’ve chastised him for being so overconfident but feeling how his cock nudged your sweet spot perfectly, you thought he might actually be right.

“Gotta fuck you angel, can’t just sit here anymore, ‘s driving me crazy.” He just couldn’t keep himself still any longer, lust burning behind his eyes in a way you had never seen in him before. You lifted yourself up slowly, feeling his length slipping from you, your walls fighting to pull him deeper until you sank back down, taking the whole length at once. The strangled cry that left Bucky was incredible. You repeated your gentle rise and fall, setting a decent pace. Every sharp fall of your hips tore a needy gasp from both of you, the sweetest spot inside you throbbing from the almost constant onslaught. It was everything you craved. Bucky was grasping at every curve of your body, lost in the feeling of your soft skin and the grip of your silky walls and the smell of your shampoo as you rode him, building speed as your pleasure built in your lower belly. The wet sounds escaping where your bodies were joined was nothing short of obscene, only fuelling Bucky to meet each of your thrusts with his own.

“Oh my god, I -oh oh- I can’t, can’t take it Bucky please.” You groaned, manicured fingernails digging into his chest.

“I got you honey. ‘s okay. Gonna take such good care of you when we get to the hotel. Just want you to cum once for me now, okay? Take the edge off. You feel so good wrapped round me. You know what else I can feel? Your pretty pussy is leakin’. Feel you drippin’ down over my balls. Never felt anything so hot in my ‘ntire life.” His fingers fell to your clit, rubbing neatly as if he had been trained to do nothing else. You were on cloud nine, your high so close but not quite there yet.

“Bucky, gonna cum. Oh fuck!” You whined, your orgasm hitting you like a train. You came with a loud cry, eyes squeezed shut, rocking against him more than fucking so his cock stayed buried inside you.

“Shit, how did you get even fuckin’ tighter. ‘M so close.” He whispered against your neck, broken and needy. Your high had all but subsided, aftershocks still pleasantly coursing through you as you went back to letting your hips rise and fall so Bucky could finish. It only took four more well timed thrusts before he was cumming with a shout, pulling you flush against him as his balls emptied into the condom.

You were both spent and sweaty but more satisfied than you could remember being in months, your chest pressed to his as you both came down, craving a little extra affection. Bucky held you for a good few minutes until you felt his cock softening, knowing he really should get cleaned up. You let him slip from you, pulling your skirt down to take your original seat across from him again.

“Gimme a second.” He whispered, kissing your forehead before making his way to the little bathroom, returning a few minutes later looking just as put together as ever, apart from his telltale grin.

“Jesus, we should do that more often.” You smiled quietly when he returned, letting him settle in the chair beside you this time, the dividing arm rest pushed out of the way so you could cuddle as much as possible given the limited space.

“I can’t stop now honey. That pussy is addictive.” He smiled, happy to see you leaning so comfortably up against him but even happier when he heard your soft little snores.

Taglist:

@harrysthiccthighss @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @justatirednightowl @littlecanadianlani @babebr @sebsbrokentoe @badgirlwolfy

[atlabeth]

everything happens for a reason part one - zuko x fem!reader

I am not your concern 

masterlist | part 2 

summary: as a servant in the fire nation, you’ve learned that life is often unfair. but as you venture through a tumultuous relationship with a certain prince, you come to learn a very tricky lesson: everything happens for a reason.

a/n: im so excited about this guys you dont even know. i have so much planned and i hope you all love it as much as i do - just for reference, in this first chapter y/n is 9 and zuko is 10

wc: 2.3k

warning(s): mentions of a raid, reader and zuko both being little shits lmao

chapter title comes from not your concern by the hush sound! 

Y/N sprawled out on the grass and sighed contentedly as the sun shined down on her and her mother. Today was easier than most as they had been given the day off, an occasion that was rare in the royal palace. She closed her eyes and breathed in the fresh scent aerating their surroundings. Her senses were blessed with a mix of sea salt and fire lilies, an ever present reminder of the two worlds she walked in.

“Y/N,” her mother chided as she glanced down at her daughter from her sewing. “You shouldn’t lay in the grass like that. You know how hard those stains are to get out; I don’t need even more work on my plate.”

“Yes, mother,” she sighed as she sat up with mock exasperation. “I just feel like I should take advantage of this! We spend all day inside, and now that we’re out here you’re worried about things like stained clothes.” Y/N pushed herself to her feet and spread her arms out as she spun in a small circle. “Life is short, and I already spend all of it sewing and healing. Don’t you think I deserve some grass stains?”

“Did you find your way into the poetry books again?” she joked. “Of course I think you should have fun, but you know how things are here. I’m just trying to keep you safe.”

She continued to twirl, the soft breeze a welcome sensation on her skin. “I know, I know, but you don’t need to worry! I can—”

“Dear, watch where you’re going!”

Her mother’s warning didn’t reach her in time, a fact that became known to Y/N as she collided into the boy in front of her. A small gasp escaped her as recognition filled her now wide eyes.

“Prince Zuko!” she exclaimed, nervous hands finding their positions as she bowed. “Please forgive me for the accident, I didn’t realize you were there.”

Y/N had never spoken to the young prince directly — she mainly shadowed her mother while she did her work around the palace or honed her healing abilities under the watchful eye of Rika, their most skilled healer — but she knew enough to understand that she was to never disrespect the royal family in any way.

“Don’t worry,” he said with a small smile, alleviating the tension that had built up in her shoulders. “I’m sorry too, I wasn’t paying attention either. I actually came here for some help.” As she straightened her back, she noticed the bundle of fabric he was holding. “Are you Kura?”

“Oh, no. That’s my mother.” She pointed behind her where her mother greeted the prince with a respectful nod and smile of her own. “Did you come to get something fixed? She’s the best seamstress in all of the Four Nations.”

“My daughter flatters me,” Kura chucked. “What is it that you require, Prince Zuko?”

“She’s right, actually.” He held up the bundle of cloth which Y/N now recognized as one of the many outfits he owned. She didn’t consider herself a jealous person, but the prince’s extensive wardrobe was an exception to that rule. She had one set uniform for her work supplied by the Fire Nation, and a threadbare set for everything else that her mother had bought for her after saving up what little copper they had to spare. Y/N didn’t mind it too much as she was able to practice her sewing whenever the seams broke, but she was sure that her handiwork made up more of the outfit than the original by now.

“I tore one of the sleeves while I was training with Azula,” Zuko expressed with a frown. “I showed it to my mother, and she said that Kura would be able to fix it. I had to go through every single servant to find you, so I really hope you can. ”

Kura set her current project down and took the cloth from the prince, examining it with the skillful eye of a seamstress before meeting his eyes with another smile. “Of course, dear. I should have it ready for you by tomorrow; my daughter will deliver it to your quarters around midday.”

“Do it well,” he demanded. “I can’t focus on my training if my clothes are falling apart.”

“Hey!” she spoke up, scowling as she crossed her arms. It was like every shred of sense Y/N had disappeared the moment he talked down to her mother. “This is our day off, so you should be thankful that my mother is taking time out of her day to do this for you. Be nicer to her.”

“Y/N!” her mother scolded, her tone frantically apologetic as she turned back to the prince. “Please, forgive my daughter. She speaks her mind far too often, she doesn’t mean any disrespect.”

“No, you’re right.” A thoughtful expression found its way onto the young boy’s features, his eyes trained on her own displeasure. “My father always talks that way to the servants and I guess it came off on me. I’m sorry. It’s not nice.”

“Apology accepted,” Y/N said reluctantly.

“Thank you for your help. I’ll make sure to tell all my friends about your work.” The young prince smiled and walked off, though not without a curious second glance at the girl who righted his wrong.

As soon as the prince was out of range, Kura began to berate her daughter. “Y/N, by now you have to understand that under no circumstances may you ever speak to a member of the royal family like that! Do you know what kind of punishment you could’ve gotten if anyone else was around to hear that?”

She sighed and settled back on the ground, plucking a blade of grass from the ground. “I know, mother, but he needs to learn manners, prince or not!”

“That’s not how it works here. Our job is to serve the royal family without question. Sometimes they say mean things, but we can’t do anything about it. Apologies are not yours to demand or accept.”

“That’s not fair,” she mumbled as she wrapped the strand of grass around her finger. “Back home I could say whatever I wanted.”

“I know, honey, I know. But we’re not at home anymore, so the rules there don’t apply. We have to follow the rules that are put in place here. Can you promise that you’ll do that for me?”

“Yes, mother.” It was a phrase that seemed to always be at the tip of her tongue now that constant apologies were littered throughout her days, usually accompanied by a sigh.

“I miss home,” The murmured sentiment was almost too soft for Kura to hear and her heart sank. Her daughter’s gaze was trained on the ground, idle fingers tapping against her legs, and she put a momentary pause to her sewing with a sigh.

“Dear, don’t you have a healing session today with Rika?”

“You know I don’t,” she grumbled. “It’s my day off, which no one seems to remember.”

“Y/N.” Kura’s voice was more firm and she now understood that it wasn’t so much a suggestion as a demand. “I think you should pay Rika a visit.”

She heaved an exasperated sigh and stood up in a far more exaggerated gesture than necessary. “Alright. I’ll see you later tonight, mother.” And as Y/N began her walk back to the palace, a sour feeling brewed in her chest.

Kura watched on, unable to prevent the fear that permeated her thoughts. They were fortunate that the young prince was generous, but along with his mother they might’ve been the only two who shared those views in the royal family. She hated having to constantly admonish her daughter — the girl was too young to constantly live in fear, especially having already been through so much — but in the Fire Nation they couldn’t afford to do anything less. A spitfire girl like her daughter was constantly treading on thin ice, and it was all she could do to keep her safe.

Kura feared the day when she wasn’t there to protect her.

-

After a short walk that consisted of muttering things to herself and taking her anger out on the pebbles unfortunate enough to be in her path, Y/N found herself back at the palace. She let herself into a side entrance meant only for servants and set on her way to the infirmary when she collided with someone else — an apology was already on the tip of her tongue when she recognized it was Prince Zuko once more. She truly had rotten luck.

Y/N shot quick glances around to ensure that they were alone, then lowered her voice just for extra security. “My mom says I’m not supposed to talk to you like this, but I don’t care. Just because you’re the prince doesn’t mean you can just go around bumping into people!” she whispered angrily.

“But— you were the one who bumped into me the first time!”

She could feel her face heat up from embarrassment and she crossed her arms. “Just— whatever! Do you want something or do you just like popping up in places you're not supposed to be?”

“I guess I just wanted to talk to you,” Zuko shrugged. “I’ve never really seen you around before, and you’re interesting.”

Y/N scrutinized him trying to find out if he was tricking her somehow, but after staring at him for a solid ten seconds she finally caved. “Fine,” she said, already beginning to walk. “But you’d better make it fast. I have to get to a healing session.”

He took a few quick steps to catch up to her and frowned. “I’m the prince. Technically I could order you to stop and you would have to listen.”

“Yeah, well when it’s just the two of us, you’re just another boy. I don’t have time to talk to boys for hours.”

His brows creased for a moment as he thought about it, then ultimately shrugged once more. “Okay. You said you were going to a healing session- does that mean you’re a waterbender?”

She nodded, and Zuko waited for her to explain further. He heaved a sigh, realizing that he was going to have to carry this conversation. “Well.. what’s a waterbender doing in the Fire Nation?”

She fixed him with a puzzled look. “I’m a servant. That’s why I’m here.”

“I know that,” he frowned. “But most of the servants here are from the Fire Nation, and there are hardly any around your age. I’m just trying to get to know you better.”

Y/N sighed heavily — she now knew that the child prince of the Fire Nation had zero sense of boundaries, and if she wanted to get him off her back she had to answer to his satisfaction. “My mother is a waterbender from the Northern Tribe. She left home when she was young to travel the world and help who she could with her healing, and eventually she fell in love with an earthbender. That was my father — they ended up marrying and settling down in his village where they had me a few years later. Last month, my village was raided by the Fire Nation, and my mother and I were captured after they discovered we were waterbenders. And now I’m here, being annoyed by a prince.”

Zuko frowned once more — it seemed if he continued hanging out with this girl the expression would be stuck permanently on his face — and he suddenly felt ashamed for pushing. “I’m really sorry,” he muttered. “I had no idea.”

She heaved another sigh and shook her head. “Yeah, well they probably keep a lot of the bad things they do from you. It’s easier to send raids to destroy families when your children don’t know.”

“What happened to your father?” he questioned.

Y/N’s body stiffened, and she had never been more thankful to see the infirmary door. “Save your questions for next time,” she grumbled.

Zuko’s eyes lit up, her earlier stumble going unnoticed, and a small smile found its way across his lips. “There’s gonna be a next time?”

She managed to cover up her own growing smile with an ambivalent shrug. “As long as you don’t bump into me again.” Y/N opened the door and gave him a polite parting nod before disappearing inside.

“Good afternoon, Master Rika,” she said with a small bow. “I know this is unexpected, but my mother insisted that I come here to—”

“Let me guess,” the older woman interrupted with a raised brow. “Kura got tired of you and sent you here to annoy me instead?”

Y/N chuckled and rolled her eyes good-naturedly as she pushed the sleeves of her tunic up to her elbows. “When have I ever annoyed you?”

“That’s a question you don’t want me to answer,” she joked as she rummaged through the closet to get supplies. “Besides, what was that smile for? Meet a boy on your day off? A girl?”

Her eyes widened momentarily and she felt the heat rush to her cheeks intensely. “I don’t ask you about your life while we heal, you shouldn’t ask about mine!”

Zuko, who had been eavesdropping by the door in an extremely un-covert fashion, felt an even bigger smile. The girl was prickly as a cactus, but he found himself strangely drawn to her — not in spite of it, but because of it. He was so used to anyone he talked to outside of his immediate family and friends bending at the knee to fulfill his every will, and it was exhausting at times. But this girl — Y/N, as he had learned — was the complete opposite.

He started to walk away, sure that he was late for some kind of session of his own. Zuko found himself thinking of the glimpse of a smile he got, already finding himself scheming up ways to make it return.

And despite her request, he was almost certain he would try to bump into her again.

[arvandus]

Icarus (Overhaul x F!Reader)

Ah yes, once again so late on this. This one gave me grief because the characters kept deviating from what I had originally planned. >.< But I worked through it, and here we are.

This is for the BNHarem's “On The Job” Collab for May, which you can find here.

Also, don’t judge my super simple title headings for my fics 😂 I always do these late at night when I should be asleep, so generic background with fancy text is the best I got to offer.

Trigger Warnings: 18+ ONLY!  1 instance of aggression/abuse (hair grabbing/pulling - nonsexual), unprotected sex (fun in fiction, dumb IRL), mutual masturbation, overstimulation, bondage via quirk abuse, degradation...

I think that about covers it.  Once again, I’m terrible at TWs so let me know if I missed anything or if anything is inaccurate. 😬 I just kinda write what I want and don’t really think about the labels when I’m doing it.

Pairing: Overhaul x F!Reader

Word Count: 8281

You hadn’t meant to get caught.  Really, you weren’t even sure what had possessed you to do it in the first place. Desperation? Horniness? Stupidity?

 All of the above?

 All you knew was that it was a poor decision brought forth by the gradual culmination of a single annoying, unavoidable fact: you were disgustingly, shamefully, sinfully attracted to Kai Chisaki.

You weren’t exactly sure how or when it started. There was no “aha” moment, no “big bang” of desire.  Instead, it was subtle, gradually coating your unsuspecting mind like layers of sediment. A shiver down your spine when he spoke your name.  The quickening of your pulse at the briefest of eye contact. And the ever-growing presence of intrusive, curious thoughts.

 Like his hands.  You always noticed them, the white of his gloves drawing your attention like a beacon whenever he was within eyesight.  They were dangerous hands, deadly weapons that you’d seen in action firsthand.  They were a thing to be feared and avoided.  But some strange part of you couldn’t help but wonder... what did they feel like?  You imagined they’d be soft and perfectly manicured, oddly delicate for such a violent man; gentle hands packed with destructive power.

 Or his lips.  They were always covered by his mask.  You never, ever saw him without it.  You imagined what your name would look like on them as he spoke, how they’d feel on your skin.  Would his lips also be soft? How about his kisses? Would they be cautious and controlled, or rough and hungry?

 It didn’t help that he was, in his own way, very attractive.  Just like how his dangerous hands were hidden within innocent white gloves, he was the devil hidden behind a pretty face. A sharp, beautiful jawline. Smooth porcelain skin. A crown of auburn red hair, closely cropped, but still long enough to run fingers through.

 You bet that part of him was soft too.

 The one part of him that wasn’t soft were his eyes.  They were beautiful, certainly… as gold as Heaven’s gates and framed in long, perfect lashes.  But they lacked the warmth of Heaven.  Instead, they spoke of cold arrogance. And if you stared into them long enough, you could see a barely contained disgust lurking beneath their haughty exterior.

 The disgust didn’t bother you, not anymore.  Everyone disgusted Chisaki, and everyone in the Shie Hassaikai knew it. He even made his closest confidants, some he’d known since childhood, wear masks so he wouldn’t share the same air with them.  

 He had you wear a mask too, of course. Simple and white, it covered only your lower face, much like his own.  That much you were grateful for, considering some of the masks you’d seen others wearing.  Your only explanation for the slightly less coverage was that your secretarial position made you a frequent point of contact for those outside of the organization.  You handled incoming calls, visitors, and scheduled meetings between Chisaki and his affiliates.  No doubt he wanted to ensure you were making a good impression while still operating within his mysophobic requirements.

 First impressions were everything to Kai.  Even more so since he took the Boss’s place under dubious circumstances. Still, his long-held reputation for extremist thinking and violence preceded him, and not everyone was in support of his unexpected promotion.  As a result, many people within the organization parted ways following Chisaki’s rise to power... and soon after they mysteriously went missing, never to be heard from or located again.  You had no doubt that it was Chisaki tying up loose ends by sealing loose lips.  After all, they say the mouth is the source of disaster.  And Chisaki valued confidentiality above all else.

 The message he sent was clear: adapt or die.  When given such colorful options, the choice on whether to go or stay became a simple one.

 So, you adapted.  As long as you followed orders, kept your eyes down and your mouth shut, you were safe. After all, it was better to be the right hand of the devil than to be in his path.  The only person you really had to fear was Chisaki himself, and you knew him well enough by now to know how to stay on his good side.

 And all in all, it really wasn’t all that bad.  Sure, you had to orchestrate the occasional clean-up when he disposed of someone who displeased him.  But that wasn’t much different than what you’d dealt with when you worked for the Boss, either.  Sure, the aftermath was messier and it happened far more often.  But violence was violence, and when you worked with the Yakuza long enough, you got used to it.  And despite the odd working conditions and ever-present undertone of danger, you remained good at your job. As such, Chisaki brooked no complaint. He tolerated you, and you tolerated him. Interactions were brief, words exchanged were polite and respectful even though they lacked warmth.  But it was just a job, right?  You didn’t need warmth.

 So why did you feel so dissatisfied?  Why did you constantly feel that something was missing, a longing you couldn’t entirely describe?

 The need only ever waned when Chisaki was in your presence, whether it was to discuss upcoming meetings or simply passing by your desk to get to his office. The dissatisfaction would melt away into a warmth that extended deep into your fingertips whenever the cold-hearted man bothered to look you in the eyes. And when he wasn’t looking at you? It was like being thrown into a winter blizzard, the aching cold returning to pull the corners of your mouth down into a silent frown.

 You craved his attention.  It was shameful and pathetic and you could only imagine the scorn he’d give you if he knew, but you didn’t care.  To be graced with the attention of a man who cared for no one brought a different kind of satisfaction.  The rare treats of attention Chisaki did grant you, whether intended or not, scratched an itch that only he could scratch.

 As time passed, the intrusive thoughts became more frequent, evolving from odd curiosities to shameless lust.  They began to occupy your dreams, forcing you awake with a hot ache between your legs. That was when you really began to realize how in deep you were.  It wasn’t just a simple “attraction.”  You wanted him.  At first you tried to deny and ignore, suppress and excuse.  After all, this was Overhaul.  Wanting him was like wanting the sun in your hand, and just as dangerous. Apparently though, it made little difference to your hormone-addled brain.  It didn’t help that the secretive, forbidden thoughts brought their own special addictive flavor of the taboo.  

 You began to act different in front of him.  Nothing too obvious, of course.  After all, you knew Chisaki wasn’t the type to indulge in desperate women. To be honest, you weren’t even sure Chisaki indulged in women at all.  All you did know was that whenever women tried to gain his favor through flirtation, Chisaki quickly and harshly shut it down.

 So, it was little things... the extra second to release a paper from your grip after he’d grabbed it, the lingering of a glance.  You didn’t so much change the style of your attire – skirts and blouses were already the norm for your position – but you changed the colors. A blouse that matched the purple feathery softness of his jacket, golden jewelry that matched his eyes.  Little messages waiting in secret to be picked up, yet subtle enough that they could be excused as nothing more than coincidence. It was risky, but the thrill of the game gave you an outlet for your roiling feelings.  In the end though, it made no difference.  There was nothing about you that seemed important enough to turn Chisaki’s head more than was professionally necessary.

 Which is where the state of things were when you found yourself alone in his office one evening. You had thought he was still working at the time. You’d stepped away to shred some incriminating documents and burn the scraps in the kiln outside.  It was your last task for the day, so you’d entered Chisaki’s office to announce your departure for the evening.  Except when you entered, the space was empty, with all traces of him gone.  No papers remained on his desk.  His gloves and plague mask were gone.  With an annoyed huff you had stood there, bothered that you’d missed him.

 Quietly, you walked to his desk, and gently caressed the mahogany wood.  It was immaculate of course, free of dirt and fingerprints.  You knew it would be because he cleaned his space every evening before he left, and you cleaned it every morning before he arrived.

 You sighed as you retrieved the paper towels and cleaning solution.  No harm in giving it a second scrub to save yourself some time tomorrow morning. It wasn’t like anyone would be foolish enough to enter this space without Chisaki present anyway.

 You should have just left it at that.  But as you walked around his desk to wipe the surface with the damp towel, your bare legs just below your skirt bumped his chair. Soft leather, still warm from where he had sat, greeted your exposed skin.

 That should have been your first clue.

 But your mental alarms never sounded.  Instead, you figured you had just missed him.

 You should have just left, but you didn’t. The warmth on the chair was enticing you. He was gone, right?  Left for the evening.  What harm could it do to indulge just a little bit?  With your heart pounding with excitement, you carefully sat down in the warm leather. Immediately the scent of Chisaki’s body wash and clean clothes cradled you.

 That should have been your second clue.

 But you were already too wrapped up in your enjoyment.  You relished in the sensations, leaning back as you closed your eyes.  It was the closest you’d ever felt to him, as if his very presence was there with you. Your desire purred deep in your gut at receiving its first nibble of satisfaction.  If you closed your eyes, you could pretend he was there, holding you.

 Your kept your eyes closed as your imagination began to take root like weeds in your mind, making your skin feel hot.  Your fingers grazed the inside of your thigh, dipping beneath your skirt while your heart pounded.  What if those were his fingers?  The vision combined with the sensations of touch and smell were delicious, and you wanted more.  You dragged the pads of your fingertips up even higher, your arm starting to push your skirt up with it.  Your legs parted easily, as you let out a shaky breath.

 You shouldn’t be doing this.  Not here of all places.  But there was something so sinfully satisfying about it, the danger only heightening the sensations.  After all, the reward was only as great as the risk it took to earn it.  And this was the highest risk you could take, short of literally throwing yourself at him.  Besides, it wasn’t like your fantasies were ever going to come true. Maybe satisfying yourself - right here, right now – would be enough to finally give you the peace of mind you needed.

 And dear God, did you need it.  You could already feel the heat growing in your loins, the moisture dampening your panties.  Your fingers finally brushed against the warm cotton fabric covering your sex and you let out a soft gasp.

 What Chisaki didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.  He was gone, right?  And you were going to clean up any traces of your little visit before you left.  He’d be none the wiser.

 Your fingers slipped beneath your underwear to meet the hot, slick flesh of your folds, your clit already plump and ready with arousal. You knew it wouldn’t take you long to cum, but you wanted to enjoy this, to savor it as the only opportunity you’d get.  You certainly weren’t going to do this again.

 So, you teased yourself, fingertips softly dragging slow circles around your entrance before dipping in.  A shaky moan left your lips, the quickening of your breaths matching the racing of your heart.  In and out you dragged your fingers, relishing in your sleek, sensitive walls, occasionally breaking your rhythm to spread your juices over your swollen labia. You revisited your clit and stifled your moan with a bite of your lip as you began to slowly massage it with practiced skill.  It felt so fucking good.  The scent of yourself mingled with the scent of Chisaki, and you spread your legs wider, leaning back farther into the seat.  You could feel the surge beginning to swell, and you knew it would be soon. Vivid fantasies danced on the inside of your eyelids, and you were fully enthralled, fingers skimming fast circles over your swollen bud as your other hand began to massage your breast through your blouse.

 “Fuuuuuckk....Kai....” You moaned.

 “What do you think you’re doing?”

 The familiar voice made you jump so hard, you nearly fell out of the chair as your eyes flew wide open.

 There was Kai Chisaki, staring down at you from across the desk – his desk. And there were you, sitting in his chair, spread eagle.

 Your breath was knocked out of you and you felt light-headed with panic.  You caught sight of the shoji screen behind him, wide open to the evening air.

 FUCK. Of course.  You forgot to check outside.  He must have stepped out for some fresh air before returning to his office.

 Shit. Shit, shit, shit.  You hadn’t heard him enter.  How long had he been standing there??

 “I asked you a question.” The man seethed through his plague mask.  His gloved hands were clenched into angry fists, and his eyes... eyes that you’d always craved to see you... well, they saw you now, and you were terrified.

 Immediately, you closed your legs and stood up from his chair. Your mouth babbled soundlessly before your voice finally came, tight and small.

 “I’m sorry.  I’m so so sorry.”

 “I didn’t ask for an apology.” He hissed.

 “I know, I’m sorry.” You blubbered.

 “Come. Here.” Chisaki demanded.

 You obeyed, struggling to adjust your skirt as you approached him from around his desk.

 “I didn’t tell you to touch your clothes.” His tone was quiet and constrained yet sharp as a razor’s edge, each word uttered with meticulous precision.

 You stared at him in shock as you slowly removed your hands from your rumpled clothing.  His eyes raked over you, top to bottom, and left you feeling... exposed.

 “Look at you...” he grumbled.  “Disgusting.”

 His mask was unnerving, blocking the lower half of his face and keeping you from being able to fully read his facial expression.  His gold eyes were threatening – predatory like a wolf.

 He was going to kill you.  You knew it was coming. He’d killed others for far less.  But you weren’t ready for it.  You didn’t want to die.

 You dropped to your knees and bowed low in front of him, shrinking yourself to fit beneath his harsh glare.  “Please, Mr. Chisaki-“

 “Overhaul.”

 “Overhaul!” you corrected, as you bowed your head lower to the ground. “Please forgive me.  I meant no disrespect.”

 “No disrespect?” he sneered.  “You debase yourself in my seat, my place of business, and claim no disrespect??”

 His left hand reached forward at lightning speed and grabbed you by your hair, forcing your head back until you were looking him straight up at him.  You winced against his harsh hold on you, yet clenched your teeth in an effort to keep your silence.  He glared down at you as his next words came out through what you could clearly hear as clenched teeth.  

 “Clean it up.”

 With that, he shoved you away from him. On shaking, clumsy legs you pushed yourself to your feet and made your way back to his desk, your skin hot with shame and your ears ringing.  

 You did as he commanded, grabbing the cleaning solution and spraying his seat before carefully, meticulously, wiping every inch of the rich leather.  Minutes passed in silence as you made sure that no spot went unnoticed, even ensuring that the table was once again cleaned as well. By the time you had finished, Kai’s temper seemed to have dwindled to a simmering flame.  His hands were no longer clenched in fists at his sides. Instead, they were tucked deep into his pockets as he supervised you.  It did little to comfort you though... you knew that Chisaki’s reflexes were faster than you could dodge.  He’d catch you before you even reached the door.

 Not that you’d try to.  You knew better.

 When the chair was finally pristine, you disposed of the last of the soiled paper towels in the wastebin and returned the cleaning solution to its home. The task was done, but you didn’t stop. You picked up the trash can with the intent of disposing of its contents; you knew Chisaki wouldn’t want it sitting in his office.  

 It was all to buy you time. Time to figure out what to say or what do to convince Chisaki to spare your life.  But you didn’t even make it to the door before Chisaki’s voice halted your retreat.

 “Where do you think you’re going?”

 “I... I was just...” you stammered.

 “I didn’t give you permission to leave.”

 You swallowed and set down the trashcan.  He approached you slowly, until he was a mere few inches from you. He was so close that you could smell his cleanliness and see the pupils of his eyes dilate as he stared at you.  Slowly, he grabbed the mask that was covering your mouth and nose and removed it from your head.  You stopped breathing.

 There was something... electric in the air.  You could feel it on your skin, making your hairs stand on end and your flesh tighten with goosebumps.  His eyes peered at you intently, taking in every subtlety of your face.  Your lips, your eyes, your skin... and beneath the weight of his stare, you could feel the fear start to transform, replaced by something else entirely.  Something familiar that’d been plaguing you for months, lighting your veins with fire and threatening to incinerate you if it wasn’t released.  After all, part of his allure was the danger. And he hadn’t killed you yet, which meant... something.

 Chisaki’s gaze began to wander beyond just your face, taking in your still rumpled clothes.  The top couple buttons of your blouse were undone, exposing the skin of your neck and the edges of your bra.  Your skirt was still askew, and although he couldn’t see it, you became acutely aware of your still-damp underwear trapped between your folds from when you had hastily closed your legs earlier.  You stared back at him, waiting for him to do something, say something.

 And that’s when you noticed it... a faint flush across his pale cheeks, peaking out from beneath his mask. His chest was rising and falling with each breath, and it was as if he were contemplating something, silently weighing a decision in his closed-off mind.

 A strange bubbling sensation began to build within your chest, foreign and oddly out of place.

 Hope.

 Finally, Chisaki spoke, his voice unusually calm considering the trouble you were in.  “Follow me.”

 Not one to disobey him, you did as he requested as he made his way over to his desk and sat down in his chair.  Then, with an open hand, he gestured at his desk.

 “Sit.”

 Confusion.

 “W-What??” you stuttered.

 “I said sit.” He replied.

 You did as Chisaki commanded, fitting yourself between his legs and his desk before hopping up slightly onto the surface you’d just cleaned. You were right in front of him now, your hands in your lap and your ankles crossed as you realized just how perfect this arrangement was for him to see directly up your skirt.  You worried your lip between your teeth as you watched him assess you.  His elbow was resting on the armrest of his chair, his fingers supporting his face along the jawline as he stared at you with his head cocked at an angle. If it were any other situation, you’d say he looked almost bored... but the glint in his eyes spoke of something else entirely.

 “Continue.” He stated.

 “What? What do you mean?” you asked.

 His eyes stared at you knowingly.  “You didn’t get to cum, did you?”  You shook your head, stunned at his words.  “Continue.” He repeated.

 “Right here?”

 “Where else?  It was good enough for you earlier.”  His tone dropped slightly as his eyes narrowed.  “Continue.”

 Your heart pounded in your ears as you uncrossed your ankles, and with shaky hands began to trace your fingers up your thighs just as you had done before. Except this time, the experience was entirely different. Instead of closing your eyes like before, you kept them open to stare at your observer, watching for his reaction.  So many times you’d fantasized about this... about his eyes being on you and only you... and you weren’t going to miss a moment of it.

 With your eyes locked on each other, you inched your way up to the space between your thighs, your legs parting to grant you access.  Chisaki didn’t look down.  Not right away, at least.  Instead, he continued to watch your face, his body still and silent.  With the heat of his gaze on you, you finally reached your center where your warmth greeted you.  It was still slick from earlier, your fingers sliding easily along your labia as you began to tease yourself for the second time that evening.  You let out slow, shaky breaths as your fingers rubbed slow, lazy circles over your glossy lips.  

 Chisaki still didn’t break his gaze from your eyes, and a part of you wanted him to.  You wanted him to acknowledge what you were offering him and know that he liked it. A small, devious smirk found itself on your lips as you pulled your fingers away from your pussy to show him the evidence of your arousal stretched across your fingers.  It caught his attention just briefly, eyes flicking to your display, before he watched you lick the glistening strands from your fingertips, the soft sounds of your sucking filling the empty, quiet room.

 Chisaki’s eyes narrowed, and the smirk on your face widened.  Soon your fingers were back between your legs, massaging your clit again as your skin began to feel flush with heat.  Round and round the pads of your fingers went, with painstaking slowness that you drew out just for him.  You wanted to show him how good his presence made you feel.  You wanted him to see how badly you wanted him.  Your lips became more swollen, your clit more sensitive. Already you could start to feel the tension build.  It was almost too easy, your body ready to surrender at the drop of a hat.  But you weren’t going to let it happen, not yet at least.  You wanted to draw this out, to savor it in case it never happened again.

 With half-lidded eyes you stared at him as you parted you folds for him, fully exposing yourself. For the first time, his eyes drifted from your face to stare directly at your desire for him – your tight hole open and waiting, every inch of your swollen cunt drenched in glistening arousal.  Chisaki was captivated and you felt your blood surge.  You needed more. With your fingers still spreading yourself open, you dipped your middle digit into your tight heat.   Pleasure bloomed within you and a soft groan vibrated from the back of your throat. With each draw of your fingers, your breaths quickened, your back arching as the tension began to build.

 You struggled to keep your eyes open, to watch Chisaki as you brought yourself closer to orgasm, but it became increasingly difficult. You were single-focused now, chasing your much-needed release with each plunge of your finger into your soft depths.  Your body accommodated it welcomingly, and so you added a second, once again relishing in the renewed stretch that caressed your inner walls. The faster you pumped your fingers, the better it felt until your nerves were singing that familiar hum.  You flowed seamlessly into the final phase, your wet fingers leaving your entrance in favor of rubbing hard, fast circles over your clit.  The finish line was in sight now as your body sprinted with tense, aching muscles and breathy moans.

 You came with a gasp, back arching and thighs twitching as you rode out your orgasm. As you neared the end of it, you dipped your fingers in one last time as your walls gave one last final spasm of pleasure.  Gradually the wave of your euphoria calmed, returning to the gentle, lapping waters of desire that still moved within you to the rhythm of your heartbeat.

 You opened your eyes to see Chisaki still staring at you silently, his eyes once again locked onto yours. The flush across his cheeks was very much apparent now, yet his posture remained unmoved. Still, out of curiosity, you dared a quick glance down to his lap to see his hand strategically placed over the bulge in his pants.  Was he trying to hide it?  Because he was failing.  Or was he stroking himself through his clothes when you weren’t looking?

 “Again.” He ordered.

 Your eyes bulged.  “Again?”

 He didn’t bother to answer, instead waiting silently.  You were a bird trapped in the golden cage of his eyes as your mind struggled to recover enough from the hazy aftereffects of your orgasm to think straight.  He wanted you to do it again?

 At first you were hesitant. You knew your body was still sensitive from what had just transpired.  But then again… your eyes stared at Chisaki’s crotch again as he waited for you.  No doubt he saw you staring, yet he did nothing, said nothing.  It almost felt like an invitation… or a dare.  Do it again and see what happens.

 Fuck. You’d already gotten under his skin... might as well see how deep you could go.

 Between your orgasm only moments before and the juices still coating your pussy, the sensations of your touch at first felt almost... numb.  Except for your clit.  That part was still sensitive, making your muscles twitch and your breath hitch in your throat as you moved your fingers over it experimentally. You kept your touch gentle at first, careful to give your body time to respond as you reawakened the lust that still lurked in your core.  With dark eyes you began to stroke yourself for him again, pulling soft pleasurable moans from your gently parted lips.  It was definitely more intense this time, and you could already tell that this next orgasm would surpass the one before it.  Still, you drew it out as you watched Chisaki.  Or, more specifically, watched his free hand.

 It didn’t take long... you watched his fingers grip around his hard-on through his pants, his hand slowly moving up and down his restricted length.  You bit your lip at the sight and immediately felt a generous wave of hot arousal bloom between your legs, your nipples hardening achingly.  It wasn’t enough to capsize you into ecstasy, but it certainly pulled a needy whimper from your lips.  

 You dipped your fingers into yourself, feeling your walls flutter as you imagined what it would feel like to have Chisaki inside of you.  With each curl of your fingers the heat grew, like the sun reaching its zenith.  You wanted it.  You wanted to cum so badly.  But you wanted to see him even more.  So, you neglected your puffy clit in favor of unbuttoning your blouse just enough to grant you access to your sensitive breasts.  You pushed aside the cup of your bra to free the plump flesh, the bud at its center tightly puckered.  With deft fingers you massaged the soft skin before rolling the nipple slowly between your fingers, pulling more soft gasps and gentle hums from your lips.  The more you groaned and teased yourself, the more Chisaki stroked himself as he watched you, his eyes glowing with hunger.

 It wasn’t until you began to lose yourself, your eyes beginning to drift closed as you moaned and whined to the ebb and flow of your pleasure, that your patience was finally rewarded.

 You could hear it over the sounds of your lewdity – the ‘click click click’ of a zipper being pulled down.  You opened your eyes, not even attempting to hide your eagerness, as Chisaki freed his cock from his pants.

 It was beautiful just like the rest of him; long with a slight curve, its tip red and shining with precum.  Veins stood out in relief, trailing his length like vines, thick and beautiful. You swallowed at the sight of it, desperately wanting to know what it would feel like to have that in you.

 You hadn’t realized your own movements had frozen until Chisaki’s smooth voice cut through your thoughts.

 “I didn’t tell you to stop.” He said, as cool and professional as ever as if he didn’t currently sit before you with his dick in his hand.  

 He was gloating, you knew it... your stunned silence at the sight of his cock stroked his ego just as much as you touching yourself for him did. And you knew that, above all else, Chisaki loved to have his ego stroked.

 “Y-yes Mr. Chisaki...” you whispered, before your fingers began moving again.

 You continued to stroke and play, penetrate and rub as you watched him take his long cock in his hand and begin long, steady strokes.  Even now, he still kept his gloves on, and somehow that made his every move even hotter.  He was no longer propping his face up with his other hand.  Now, he was sitting up straight, eyes on your needy cunt as you put on your show for him.  You could see it, the tension in his temple that came and went, hear the ragged, quick draws of his breaths through his mask.  Your own arousal grew in response, egged on by him searching for his own sweet relief at the lewd sight of you.  It blossomed like a watered seed as you drank in the man in front of you – his hand pumping, precum dripping.

 It was the push your sensitive body needed.  You came surprisingly fast, your orgasm crashing over your body with greater intensity than the first.  Moans and gasps ripped from your throat as your body spasmed, and you made no effort to quell your cries, too consumed by your own pleasure.  With eyes squeezed shut, your hips rocked as you grinded yourself against your hand, your entire body singing in unbridled bliss.

 You were given no respite.  As soon as the pleasure eased just enough for your hips to still, Chisaki spoke.

 “Again.”

 Your eyes, still closed, flew open to look at him with incredulity.  You weren’t even recovered yet, your cunt still twitching with the aftershocks of pleasure. You knew that touching yourself without some sort of break was going to lead you down a jagged, torturous road of overstimulation.  It made your legs start to close up instinctually in denial.

 Your mouth moved silently before you pushed the words out.  “B-But... I can’t....”

 Chisaki’s eyes narrowed, his brows lowering... and along the edge of his mask, you could see his cheeks lift slightly.  He was smirking at you. Cruelly.  

 “You can, and you will.” He said.  A wave of his fingers told you to reopen your legs for him, and you did, slowly, as if you were a puppet on strings.  “Again.” He repeated.

 Chisaki took a moment to remove the glove from his stroking hand before giving his cock a couple more languid strokes.  You stared at the exposed skin in awe.  It was everything you imagined it’d be... pale, smooth, nails clean and perfectly trimmed.  Between his hard cock and his ungloved hand, you stared in shameless longing as an excited chill coursed down your spine.  Maybe… maybe if you were good…

 You swallowed the dryness in your throat and returned your fingers to your core, flinching as you brushed against your sore, overstimulated clit.  Chisaki returned to pleasuring himself as you performed for him, his hand pumping steadily.  Watching him masturbate to you was delicious.  He didn’t rush, instead opting to taking his time, his hand moving smoothly from base to tip, occasionally pausing to run his precum over the head, the shine glinting in the light.  You subconsciously licked your lips, wondering what it would taste like. Would you lick it from his tip? Or his finger?  Maybe both?

 You matched your pace with his, letting his own strokes guide your hand.  The synchrony made your pussy ache more than ever, even as your body screamed for freedom – a break from the constant wave of stimulation that you were subjecting yourself to.  It made you feel closer to him, more connected - as if he were a part of your pleasure without actually touching you.

 But dear God, you desperately you wanted him to touch you.

 He continued his strokes, slow and easy.  Whether it was for him or for you, you weren’t sure... you weren’t even sure if he was aware that you were pacing yourself with him.  His speed gradually quickened, the muscles of his forearms tensed and twitching as he pumped his hard cock with growing fervor. It was the hottest thing you’d ever seen, his eyes starting to roll back in his head as he began to lose himself to the pleasure, legs twitching slightly as he came close... Your heart pounded with excited anticipation as you dipped your fingers into your core, feeling your walls flutter with need.  It was happening... he was going to cum...

 But he never did.  Instead, his pace began to slow as his eyes refocused on you. That was when you realized….

 Chisaki wasn’t trying to cum yet… he was edging himself.

 Maybe he was waiting for you.  Or maybe he had his own agenda.  But either way, it was clear to you that he was delaying his orgasm.

 The hypocrite.

 Still, you wanted to please him. You wanted to give him want he wanted, because then maybe he could give you what you really wanted.  But no matter how hard you tried, no matter how fucking hot the entire situation was, your own orgasm evaded you.  

 It was more than just the repeated orgasms and overstimulation.  The real issue was that your fingers no longer satisfied. Not after seeing what he had to offer, and certainly not after seeing how horny you made him.  You wanted him to touch you, to put his hands on you, to feel his cock in you... A frustrated whine escaped your lips as you felt your resolve break.

 “Please, Mr. Chisaki...” you begged.  Chisaki’s eyes left your open pussy to lock with yours.  Their golden depths burned holes into you, and you licked your lips under the heat of his stare. “Please touch me...”

 Chisaki froze mid-stroke.  “Touch you?” He said it as if the idea repulsed him, yet his eyes betrayed him as he looked back down between your open legs.

 “Please,” You begged.  “Don’t you want to?”

 His brow was deeply furrowed, and you knew he was having his internal debate, just as he’d had before.  After all, what you were asking was no small order.  You knew how he felt about touch.  No doubt he would have already been balls deep in you had it not been an issue for him.

 But that was why you begged. And pleaded.  And groveled.  Anything to make him set aside his golden rule, even if just for one night.

 “Please...” you whined one last time.  “I’ll do anything.  I need you, Kai...”

 Something about you using his given name did something.  His eyes widened slightly, his flush reaching down to his exposed neck.  Then his eyes narrowed, as he stood from his seat.  You watched with a mix of excitement and trepidation as he carefully removed his jacket and loosened his white tie.  He towered over you, his stare pinning you somewhere between his contempt and his hunger as he undid the cuffs of his black shirt and rolled up his sleeves to the elbows. It made your pussy throb and your heart pound as you stared back at him, completely vulnerable.  He stepped forward slightly, filling the space between your legs with his presence.  Even just the graze of his pants against the inside of your knee was enough to set off fireworks on your skin, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.  His cock was still out and hard, mere inches from your tight, needy cunt, and it took every ounce of willpower not to scoot down and close the gap between you.

 You waited.

 “Touch you...” he muttered through his mask, his voice low.

 Chisaki’s eyes raked over you, taking in every inch of you.  Your trembling, parted lips and large pupils; your exposed breast with its perky, hard nipple; your swollen and glossy cunt framed in ruined underwear that was carelessly shoved aside; the sweat from your thighs coating his desk.

 “So fucking filthy.” He breathed.  The profanity sounded strange on his lips, almost more like a prayer than an insult.

 He stared at one of your thighs as he slowly placed a warm, gloved hand on it. You reacted immediately, gasping at his touch, and his eyes darted to yours.

 “...And needy.” He added.

 From your peripheral you could see his other hand grip his cock and begin to pump it. You tried to watch... you wanted to watch.  But the heat of his hand on your thigh made nearly everything else fade away until it was all you cared about.  Your breaths began to come in hot pants as your body trembled beneath him.

 “I didn’t realize that you were so desperate for me.” He said calmly as he continued to stroke himself.  His gloved hand squeezed your soft flesh until you were moaning from the mixture of pleasure and pain. “Pathetic.”

 You were pathetic.  But you didn’t care.  You’d say anything, do anything, just to have him keep touching you.  And if he wanted you to beg?  To cry? To humiliate yourself to earn his cock?  You’d do that too.

 His hand slowly eased its grip as it began to move up, up, up until his thumb nestled in the crook of your thigh, just shy of your sensitive, swollen folds. Your hand immediately made way for his as you laid down completely onto his desk, your world spinning.  A warmth fell over you like a blanket, every fiber of your being pulsing at a low hum; you were a glass vibrating at a frequency just shy of shattering.

 Chisaki’s voice floated through your haze like a faraway song carried on the wind. “You were so eager at first.  So willing to shame yourself – shame me – to get what you wanted.”  He scoffed. “Now you can’t even do as I say.”

 You could feel his thigh twitch against yours as he began to pump himself faster. His cock was so close to your pussy that it was torturous.  It made you want to cry.  You could feel the warmth of fresh juices begin to flow from you, coating your entrance in invitation, as you prayed to all the gods above and below for him to enter you without mercy.

 But it never came.  And his hand never ventured further.  Slowly, your thoughts trickled back ever so slightly, and you realized he was waiting for you to speak.  Slowly, around a heavy tongue, you made clumsy words.  “I... I’m sorry...I’m trying... is hard...”

 Chisaki tsked.  “You’re afraid.  Afraid of pushing past your limits. So now I’m going to help you.”

 His gloved thumb crossed the threshold to your swollen bud, and your world exploded into color as a sharp zing of pleasure erupted from between your legs. You cried out, your body spasming, hips writhing to escape his touch. It was too much...

 “Where do you think you’re going?” he demanded.

 Then he did something you didn’t expect – his bare hand released his cock and slammed down onto the desk.  The surface rippled beneath you, transforming until smooth arches of dark mahogany wrapped themselves over your arms, effectively pinning you down.

 Your heart pounded wildly in your chest, your breaths coming out in quick, panicked gasps.

 “Kai!” you protested.

 He bent over you and grabbed your jaw in his gloved hand, his plague doctor mask inches from your face. “You wanted me to touch you,” he whispered.  “Now you’re going to get what you asked for.”

 The look in his eyes wasn’t as controlled as before.  Sure, the disgust and hunger were still there.  But there were more emotions now, peaking through the cracks of his practiced façade.  Anger, contempt, fear, desire, longing... and something else; something wild and unhinged.

 Something within him was on the verge of breaking, of being set free, and you were the one responsible.

 He straightened himself up and returned his gloved hand to your sopping core, his cock once again in his bare hand.  His thumb found its home again, nestled firmly against your engorged clit.

 He wasn’t gentle, he wasn’t slow.  Instead, his thumb ran swift, relentless circles, the digit igniting every frayed nerve. Each swipe had you crying out as wave after wave of sharp, jagged pleasure assaulted you, without so much as a second of recovery in between.  And as Chisaki raced you towards that inevitable cliff, his own hand pumped himself hard and fast.  His strokes began to become erratic, his composure slowly slipping as you began to unravel before him, your whines and cries luring him to follow you to the point of no return.  You could feel his own legs began to spasm against your inner thighs, his hips beginning to jut forward with each drag of his palm along his hard shaft.  The gap between your two bodies began to close, until you could feel the tip of him brush against your core. In that instant, you came undone beneath him with his name spilling from your drooling lips.

 The temptation was too much.  He entered you as you came, his cock burying itself within your clenching walls with a single thrust.  Your legs wrapped around him instantly as your body exploded into a mess of tears, shrieks, and trembles.  With one hand on your hip and one working your clit, he fucked you through your orgasm as you cried and panted, his own grunts joining your one-person symphony as you felt every fiber of your being shatter with white hot pleasure. It was all-consuming, disorienting.  You weren’t even sure you were a person anymore.  You could feel nothing else, see nothing else except the man inside of you, hovering over you, filling your existence.

 It didn’t stop. Even after you were a blubbering mess, tears streaming down your cheeks, your thighs and cunt sore, Chisaki kept going, his cock reaching new depths as it dragged against your spasming, sensitive walls.  His breaths were heavy, each pant labored until he ripped his mask off his face.  It was like a switch had been flipped, changing Chisaki from a man in control to nearly animalistic.  Teeth bared, sweat beading across his forehead, golden eyes absolutely feral. His thrusts took you past your orgasm, unrelenting, and you cried and babbled for him to stop, it was too much, your body couldn’t take anymore.  But even as your string of incoherent words begged for the end, your body spoke of a different kind of freedom, your legs tightening around Chisaki’s waist in an effort to pull him impossibly deeper into you.

 Chisaki snarled, releasing his hand from your cunt as he continued to fuck you, and removed his remaining glove with his teeth.  Suddenly, the white fabric was being shoved into your mouth, gagging your broken words behind its white cotton that smelled and tasted of you.

 “Shut up.” He growled.

 You could see the hives breaking out across his damp, flushed skin now at the contact, but it no longer seemed to matter to him.  And it didn’t matter to you either.  You were wrapped up delirium, your eyes glossing over and rolling into your head with each drive of Chisaki’s hips. Your hips couldn’t even keep up with his thrusts anymore; his movements were too rough, too fast.  All you could do was lay there and receive him as he pounded you without restraint.  That familiar knot was forming again, a dark beast built from the broken pieces of the last. It was a terrifying thing, a formidable presence that you felt building within yourself that would surely decimate you.

 “This is what you really wanted, isn’t it?” Chisaki grunted through clenched teeth. “You wanted me to fuck you senseless, to ruin this tight pussy of yours like the greedy, selfish bitch you are.”

 His words washed over you and you gave the faintest of nods, your mouth still gagged.

 “So, you’re going to take what I give you. You’re going to cum when I say, as often as I say.”  His cock hit deep as his thumb gave a final press against your clit. “Now.”

 You screamed around the cotton in your mouth, back arching and arms straining against the wood trapping you as the tension finally erupted.  It tore through your veins, making your fluids gush and your pussy clench like a vice around Chisaki’s pumping cock.  Not a moment later, you heard him groan followed by the hot sensation of his cum coating your walls.  It only enhanced the waves of pleasure still wrecking you and your pussy milked him greedily as he emptied himself in you.

 The comedown felt like it would never arrive. Your nerves still sang too loudly, the aches echoed too deep.  But finally, Chisaki’s hips stuttered to a stop and your own body lay limp beneath him. It felt like you were submerged under water, every sense dulled or muted, as you stared hazily at the ceiling.  Chisaki was still in you, his dick twitching sensitively each time your body gave a weak aftershock. You had thought he would pull out, leave you there like the ruined mess you were to go clean himself up.  Now doubt he’d return to his senses any moment and be repulsed by what transpired.

 But he never did.  Instead, he braced himself over you, his heavy, hot breaths coating your exposed skin as he settled through his own comedown while you warmed his cock.  You felt the desk ripple beneath you and suddenly your arms were freed from their restraints, the wooden surface back to its original state.  A moment later, he filled your view as he leaned over you, and you had a brief moment of panic, wondering if you were next. Was he going to overhaul you now? After all, he got what he wanted...

 But he never did that either.  Instead, he removed the glove from your mouth as his eyes traced over your face, marking every feature, every nuance.  Your parted, chapped lips... your glossy, sweat-stained skin... the exhaustion in your eyes...  His thumb came up to wipe away at the tears drying along your cheekbones before running the smooth pad over your lower lip.

 Then he did something you didn’t anticipate, something that surprised you above all else. He bent down and captured your mouth with his, his wet tongue gliding into your stunned, open mouth.  It was strangely slow, uncharacteristically tender, and entirely unexpected.  The fog you’d been swimming in a moment before lifted slightly, and you began to kiss him back, your arm wrapping up around his shoulders before tangling your fingers into his damp, auburn locks at the base of his neck.

 Whatever it was, it was short-lived.  He brought a hand up to grasp the hand you had around his neck, his fingers twining with yours as he placed your hand back down on the desk, pinning you within his hold. He pulled away from the kiss and stared down at you with a dark smirk tugging the corners of his wet lips.  And his eyes... his eyes burned gold like the sun. Not a beautiful, gentle gold that kissed open delicate flowers and melted winter snow.  No, this was a force of unrelenting destruction, the kind that burned deserts, scorched forests... and melted wax wings.

 You were Icarus, fueled by foolishness and arrogance. You’d flown too close, fueled by a false sense of confidence that you could handle whatever it was that lurked within him, that your lust was enough to match his.  But you were quickly learning you couldn’t.  His fire burned too hot, his hunger too deep. He was going to devour you until there was nothing left.  And really, what did you expect from a man who denied himself every human urge in his quest for perfection?  

 The sun could never be controlled.

 And Pandora’s box can never be closed.

 Slowly, he lowered his face next to yours until you could feel his lips brush against the shell of your ear.

 “Again.”

[x-ladyathena-x]

Free

Dean Winchester x Reader

Multi-POV (mostly reader POV with some Dean POV mixed in for clarity and understanding of the situation)

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Fluffy Smut, Smutty Smut, idiots in love

Word count: 4k - Buckle in, it’s a long one! (that’s what she said?)

Summary: An evening at the bunker planning your next hunt takes a romantic & steamy turn as you and Dean confess your feelings for each other.

You’d just finished a hunt and made it back to the bunker. Tired and exhausted, you see Dean at his computer, probably researching the next job.

“Welcome back, Sunshine!” he yells across the massive room, eyes never leaving his computer screen.

You roll your eyes at the pet name, but laugh at the same time. “Smartass.” You mumble under your breath at him.

“Aww, you’re the sweetest, y/n” Dean smirks at you with his goofy fake cheesy grin.

After a little playful banter back and forth, you unload your gear and slump down into a chair at the table that Dean is sitting at with his laptop.

“whew! I’m beat.” You say, rubbing your eyes.

Dean Drains the last bit of the beer he’d been sipping on and gets up for another. He holds up his empty bottle, “want one?”

“yeah, grab me one too.” You say, thinking about the ice-cold deliciousness awaiting you.

Dean walked back to where you were seated. You’d pulled out your laptop by this point and had started running a map spread.

He walked up, opened your beer for you and presented it to you like a waiter in a fancy restaurant would present a bottle of Champaign. “Your beverage, ma’am.” Dean says with a slight bow.

You laugh and take the beer. While you throw your head back, savoring that first sip, you don’t notice Dean watching you with a little smile on his face from having made you laugh.

You set your beer down. “Ok, come look at this.” You say. You’ve got the map pulled up on your screen.

Dean comes up behind you. He places one arm on the back of your chair, the other balancing his weight on the table. You’re acutely aware of how close he is to you. Your body stills. The world around you slows, moving in slow motion. You can feel him hovering right over your shoulder and it feels like an electric charge coursing through your skin.

You swallow. “Right here.” You say, pointing to the screen. “we’ve got intel on vamp nests; here, here, there, and way over here. I think we should begin with this one.” You say pointing to the blue dot. “But I’m not sure when we should hit the others.”

Dean leans forward. He moves his hand from the back of the chair to your shoulder. His fingers graze the skin of your exposed neck. He points to the screen with the other hand. “Well green would definitely make sense to hit after blue. But, as for red and yellow? Shouldn’t make much of a difference which of those we hit after that.” His hand was still on your shoulder and he gave it a quick squeeze. “See? Easy as pie!”

He stopped, hesitating, and looked down at where his hand was. His eyes suddenly became hungry.

Dean slowly began trailing his fingers along the exposed skin on your neck. You leaned into his touch, his hands – his hands! You could feel the strength and power in them at their touch. Oh, that rough touch. It set every molecule in your body humming. When you let out a small groan of pleasure, you could have sworn you felt deans body waver for a moment.

Gently, he moves a wisp of hair that had fallen down the nape of your neck. Taking his time, he allowed his fingers to brush through your hair, making goosebumps appear on your skin.

You shudder and bring in a short gasp of breath at the light, deliberate touch. Gah… this man could bring you to your knees with one touch. Just melt you into a puddle.

Umm, wake up, y/n! you think to yourself. You’re a badass hunter. Humans and creature alike literally fear your name! And here you are melting at the touch of (of all people) Dean effin Winchester… Ugh, get it together, y/n!

You’d never told anyone but you actually really liked Dean. A lot. He’d been on your mind more than usual lately. Maybe it was all the time you two had been spending together? He was fun and funny. And Charming… Oh yea, charming. So charming he just loved charming his way into the pants of every girl he met. You felt your teeth clench at the thought.

Am I jealous? Is this jealousy? You think to yourself. Jealous… jealous of what? Nothing. Something? You didn’t know why you felt that way. Dean wasn’t yours, after all. You knew he only saw you as a friend. Someone to joke around with, hang out with on your days off. He’s made moves on other girls. If he were interested in you, he’d have tried to make a move already. But he hadn’t. Just a little light hearted flirting, but you knew that was his personality. So that’s that. But- but, this?

What was this? What was happening right now?

Dean leaned down and pressed his lips to the back of your neck, resting his forehead against your hair. A deep sigh and the soft flutter of eyelashes tells you that he closed his eyes as he breathes in your scent.

Was this it? Was he making his move? The feel of his face nuzzled in your neck lit a fire burning in your belly. Him. You wanted him. Needed him. And his body language suggested that he wanted you just as bad.

“Dean...” you say breathlessly.

“y/n, I- “

The sound of your name brings you back to your senses somehow.

Making his move. You think to yourself. On you? Who does he think you are?! Some tramp from the bar? How can this man both infuriate and arouse you all at the same time?! This was starting to feel like an emotional roller coaster that you wanted to get off of.

You clear your throat and decide to lay down the law. You needed to let him know that playing around wasn’t your thing. And, of all people, he should know that about you, ugh.

“I’m not one of your conquests. Another one-nighter. So, if that’s what you’re after, you can pump the breaks before you start any of your trusty old sweet talk like honey dripping from your lips.” Mmm… his lips… Snap back to earth, y/n!

He’s smooth, you give him that. And as bad as you’d love to throw him down right here and fuck his brains out, you gather your senses and realize that your self-respect and dignity are more important. But, oh… those lips. The high road sucks.

You take a deep breath, gather yourself, and continue, “I, unlike your long list of hit-em-and-quit-em’s, am a lot of hard work. I require dedication and respect.” You spat the last word out a little more icily than you meant to, but you were seething at the thought of his hands being on anyone else.

Did he just screw some rando less that twelve hours ago? You don’t know. Probably. You clench your fist at the thought.

Dean moves suddenly. Swiftly. Like the predator you know him to be out in the field while hunting. Taking you by surprise, he kneels beside you, grabbing both your hands, turning you sideways in the chair to face him. He looks up at you with deep sadness in his eyes.

“Y/n, I- I haven’t. N-not once. Not since I- I realized…”

-----

Dean couldn’t stand it anymore; he couldn’t bear to hear the heartbreak in y/n’s voice. And he did hear it. Even though she tried to cover it; lacing every word with venom. He could still hear it. And it broke him inside.

What makes him good enough to deserve someone like y/n? She was way better off without a messy relationship with him. A relationship that would inevitably end in heartbreak. Heartbreak for one of them. Because in this life, the life of a hunter, having your heart ripped to shreds by the loss of a loved one was part of the reality. He was so scared to allow himself something good.

Good? Why do I deserve good? He thought. Maybe death and loss are part of everyone’s reality. Maybe, just maybe he was making the pain worse by fighting this… Maybe she, like him, was also scared. Would she even feel the same if he told her? What would he say? That he’d been in love with her for, well, he wasn’t sure when it happened. They’d always playfully flirted with each other. Sometimes she stole his beer, took a few sips, and handed it back. He liked the idea of putting his lips where hers had been. Dean imagined about how she would taste. He- he needed to tell her. Tell her everything.

Why was he making himself so miserable? This had to end, he was being stupid. It was his own fault for not confessing sooner. Dean gathered his courage. In one fluid motion, taking y/n by surprise, he knelt beside her, took her hands in his, and turned her body to face him.

Dean looked up at y/n. There it was. A mixture of torment, sadness, and longing. All weakly camouflaged by an icy look in her eyes.

“Y/n, I-“ Dean froze. I, what? Come on, spit it out, man! You’ve got this. “I haven’t.” Haven’t what?! Words. What are words? “N- not once. Not since I- I realized…” shit. Dean froze again as y/n’s breath quickened. Her eyes wide, listening to him speak. Her nails unknowingly digging into his palms in nervous anticipation of what he was trying to say. Why couldn’t he just spit it out?!

-----

You feel your pulse racing. You’re hanging on to every word pouring from those perfect lips. Every. Word. As your gaze dances across painfully beautiful green eyes, your expression softens.

“Not since I realized I love you.” Dean finishes in a low, rough voice.

Your breath catches in your throat. Is this real? Are you breathing? Did Dean just say what you think you heard him say?

“Y/n, I love you. And I have for a long time now.”

You release a big breath that you didn’t even know you were holding. Gently you lift his rough hands up to your mouth, brushing your lips across his calloused knuckles.

Unable to speak, you keep your hands on his as he reaches up to your cheek to wipe away a single tear. Am I crying?! You think to yourself. Apparently. Yes. The rush of emotion and relief that you’re feeling, knowing that he feels the same way that you feel keeps you tongue tied.

Your reaction to his words was the catalyst Dean needed to keep going. He continued, “I love you. I haven’t been with anyone for a while now. Not since I realized that you were right in front of me the whole time. Exactly what I’ve been searching for.” Dean was on both knees by this point.

As if Dean were searching for the next words he wanted to say, his head dropped down against his hands (which were still holding yours in your lap) and he drew a shuddering breath.

You could feel his soft hair against your leg. Why does he have to be so damn sexy?! As he composes himself, you reach out and run your fingers through his hair. His head jolts up at your touch. You smile at him, “I love you too, Dean. I just never knew you felt the same. Why are you only telling me now? Why hide it for so long?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you. Or lose you.” He whispered as he looked up at you through his lashes.

“Hurt me? Uh, didn’t ya think this whole ‘apparent unrequited love’ thing was killing me too?” you say sarcastically with a smirk. But in truth, that wasn’t fair to Dean. Because he didn’t know how you felt either. You’d never told him. Sure, you always flirted with each other and you found him insanely attractive and hot. Especially when he got protective over you during a hunt, or some creep at the bar. How many nights did the two of you stay up laughing at each other’s stupid jokes and throwing back a few beers? You’d always enjoyed each other’s company.

You repeat yourself, but softer this time, with longing in your voice. “Why now, Dean? Please. Tell me.”

“Because I was tired of denying myself the one good thing that ever came into my life.” He said heatedly. “Because I can’t think when I’m around you. You drive me absolutely fucking crazy, y/n. I can’t sleep without thinking of you. I can’t eat, hell, I can’t even put a beer to my lips without wishing it was you that I had at my lips. I want. No. I need you in my life. By my side. I need to - taste you. Breathe you. Y/n, I know I’m not the only one that feels this way. I see it in your eyes, I see the way you look at me. And I’m scared shitless of how deep these feelings go. This-“ Dean gestured between the two of you, “Is something that I never even knew it was possible to feel.

Without skipping a beat, Dean put his hand behind your head and pulled you into his lips. It was a tender kiss. Gentle, soft. You could feel the fire growing inside you. He felt so good. Your hands found the stubble on either cheek as you kissed him back. His tongue slipped inside your mouth and found yours.

The kiss became more forceful, and full of need. You didn’t want it to stop. It couldn’t stop. If it did stop, that may be the end of the world as you know it.

Dean stood, pulling you up with him as he wrapped both arms tight around your waist. He began running his hands over every surface of your body he could reach. He pulled you flush with his body, never breaking apart your lips. You could feel the heat radiating off him. You ran your hands down his powerfully muscular back. This. This man. Him. Dean. Dean is what you want.

Dean broke the kiss apart. “I love you, y/n. I love you so damn much it hurts.” He said, his voice breaking.

“I love you too, Dean.” You say, smiling up at his face, tangling your fingers in his hair.

With a small grunt, Dean lifts you up by your ass and you instinctually wrap your legs around his hips. You feel a growing bulge in his jeans. You pull his face back in to yours. You can’t think straight, you want him so bad, you can taste it. Your core is aching with need. The need for him growing more intense. Only he can quench this fire burning you up.

Dean carries you clumsily down the hall to your room. Your arms still entwined around each other, holding each other together, holding the universe together.

Once inside Dean puts you down and you both stand there, staring at each other, breathing heavily. You both suddenly fly towards each other. Grabbing and pulling clothes, pulling each other’s lips down hard on your own. You unbutton Deans blue jeans and he unclasps your bra. Your t shirt and shorts long forgotten somewhere on the floor.

The feeding frenzy of ripping each other’s clothes off slows to a savory pace as you tug and pull off Deans pants, leaving nothing to hold down the massive tent in Dean’s boxers.

He pulls the straps of your bra from your shoulders, slowly. When the cold air hits your nipples, they perk instantly Dean lets out a sharp hiss. “Oh, y/n.” He teases the soft flesh. First with his thumb, then with his mouth. As you feel his tongue against your skin, you let out a sigh of pleasure. His eyes dart up to your face. He lifts his head and softly kisses you on the mouth. “I would love nothing more than to throw you onto this bed and fuck you senseless right now.” Dean said with a growl, but then his expression softened. “But if this is too much, we can stop. You’re in charge… as per usual.” Dean laughs at his own joke and you playfully smack him on the arm, grinning.

“Hey now!” you say laughing, “I’m not always in charge when we do hunts.”

Dean rolls his eyes and says sarcastically, “Yea, ok. Sure…”

You lean in and plant a kiss on his neck, “Well, I guess – since – I’m the one – in charge,” you say playfully between kisses. Trailing them down his chest and belly, stopping at his boxers. His erection obvious. “Then, I’ll accept nothing less than-“, you pull his boxers down revealing his full length. You flash your eyes up to his. He’s hungrily watching you, “-being fucked senseless.” You say as you take him into your mouth.

-----

She was so fucking beautiful. Perfect. The most perfect thing he’d ever seen. As y/n started bringing her kisses down his torso, Dean could feel his erection stiffen even harder. When she stopped to pull down his boxers, he could feel his shaft weeping with anticipation.

He was so worried that he had crossed a line earlier. It totally took him by surprise that y/n wanted him just as badly as he wanted her.

“Well, I guess, since I’m the one in charge, I’ll accept nothing less than being fucked senseless.” Y/n said as she looked up at him with a mischievous sparkle in her eye. Damn! She was so hot. Dean had never been this riled up by anyone before. Oh, if that’s what you want, Baby, then that’s what I’m gonna-

Dean wasn’t able to finish his thought stream. Y/n had taken his whole length into her mouth. “Oh FUCK!” Dean screamed out, grabbing y/n by the hair. He slowly began to guide her head at the pace he wanted. Her tongue, her mouth, her! She was about to make him come already. Dean pulled himself out of her mouth. “Bed. Now.” He commanded with a sly smile.

Y/n laughed, “whatever you say, Baby.” As she climbed onto the bed, she did a dramatically slow striptease style crawl that made Dean’s erection throb.

Dean crawled up her body, kissing every inch of her he could reach. Y/n made a little pleasurable whine as dean kissed her thighs while he pulled down her lacy black thong. Her center was absolutely dripping wet. Dean wanted to live between those perfect thighs. Spend years there, never come back to reality. Was time even moving at all? What day is it? What year is it? He didn’t care. None of those things mattered. None of it mattered because he had his y/n. His. Mine.

The only thing that existed was the two of them.

Dean dove his face between y/n’s thighs to her soft center. She tasted like Spring sunshine. Dean took his time, savoring every shudder that ran through her perfect body. Every gasp, scream, and moan that came out of her perfect mouth. She was getting close to coming.

-----

Your whole body is on the brink. Every move dean makes brings you closer to the edge. You need this release and you need Dean to give it to you. You feel yourself climbing, building, then suddenly – the earth shatters around you. You scream “Dean! Oh, DEAN!”

Dean keeps going while you ride out the high, he slowly brings you back down. You sigh, “Dean that- that was- I-“ you have no words. He seems to understand what you’re trying to say because he smiles.

“I’m not done with you yet.”

Your heart and core flutter at his words.

He climbs between your thighs, positioning himself at your entrance. You place your hands on his hips and start to guide him in. With one smooth powerful thrust, he slides his whole length inside you, filling you up, stretching you in the most delicious way. You both gasp. He smiles and kisses your forehead.

His pumps start slow at first, then become more deliberate, more powerful. You love the protectively dominate power he radiates as he’s on top of you. Dean is a MAN. And he feels good. He feels so damn good. You start to feel yourself building again to what you knew would be another earth-shattering orgasm.

Dean found his rhythm and savored every movement, every stroke. He could stay here for ages.

As you feel yourself building, your need for him grows stronger. Dean... He was yours. And you were greedy for more of him. As his rhythm quickened, you dug your nails into his ass pulling his thrusting hips toward you with more force at each thrust. He catches the hint.

Without ever breaking the two of you apart, he flips you over onto all fours and doesn’t hold back. His urgency makes you cry out in pleasure. “Baby, yes! That’s it!”

“You want more? You want me to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before?”

“YES!” you scream, reaching around and slapping his thigh. That does it. He unleashes himself. You hear him roar with pleasure, holding onto you so tightly, pulling you against him so fast and hard. The sound of flesh slapping echoed around the room mixed with both your cries of pleasure.

“Baby, I’m about to come!” you pant.

“Come on. Come for me Baby.” Dean says breathlessly. “I want to know that I’m the one to make you come.”

-----

Dean was talking out of his mind in the throes of ecstasy. The thought of y/n coming… of him coming inside her, was throwing him over the edge. Just as he felt himself going over, he felt y/n tighten around him.

-----

Just as you feel Dean twitching inside you, you feel yourself tighten around him. The sheer power of your shared climax hit you both like a freight train.

When you felt him pull out, you felt empty with his warmth gone. Dean lays back on the pillows and pulls you into his arms. You settle yourself in the warmth and comfort of his body. Dean absent mindedly plays with your hair as you lay your head on his chest and you both breathe heavily while you float back down to reality.

“Dean?” you say softly.

“Mmm?”

“That was amazing. Absolutely amazing.”

Dean chuckles and kisses the top of your head. “Glad I could be of service.”

He’s such a smartass, you think to yourself laughing. “I’m sorry I wasn’t more honest with you either.” You say, picking up your conversation from earlier. “I know I’m partly to blame for this dance we’ve been doing around each other for - who knows how long.”

“No, you were right. I should have just nutted up and told you how I felt. It just crushes me to think that I was causing you pain because you thought I was seeing other people.”

You absent mindedly draw circles on his chest with your finger. “I don’t know, I suppose we’re both to blame. I mean, look at this mind-blowing sex we could have been having all this time.”

This coaxes a real laugh out of Dean, and you feel his chest moving up and down from the laughter. But then he stops and you see a seriousness wash over his face. The same pain you saw in his eyes earlier, but maybe – perhaps you are imaging it – less pain, more - hope?

“I meant everything I said earlier.” Dean says in a husky, deep voice. “I am scared shitless to lose you, or to know that I’d be the source of your pain if you ever lost me. I mean, hell we’re hunters, we know how this ends eventually.” Still holding you tight, Dean continues, “I guess, If I’ve got one life to live, even if it’s a short one, I want you by my side. Always. I want you. All of you. The sassy you. The smartass you. The bossy you. The…” he paused to run his thumb across your lips, “The incredibly sexy you that I can’t keep my hands off of.” Dean smiles “I didn’t know that happiness like this, or these – feelings - were even possible to feel. And that’s just it. You made me feel. You pulled me out of a darkness that I didn’t even know I was in. You made me – free.”

[ask-the-clergy-bc]

HCs for the Papas comforting a trans partner who's family is being transphobic?

Always like to start this off by saying that everyone in the Ghost cast would want you to feel loved and safe. We don’t support any transphobia here!!

But even though this is a comfort piece I’m going to add a trigger warning, because it can still be a tough and personal subject. So…

Trigger Warning: Transphobia, Transphobic Family, Emotionally/Mentally/Verbally Abusive Family

This is written with the assumption that the reader is OUT as trans. No specified reader identity.

Papas/Copia Comforting Reader who is Trans with Transphobic Family

Papa Nihil: The man can be grumpy, but you rarely see him angry. You weren’t ever intending for anyone in your family to meet Nihil, but fate had a funny way of working. It was the day you decided to finally go to the Ministry with him. He was coming to pick you up when he saw people he didn’t recognize arguing with you. As Nihil came out to be by your side you saw his white eye flash the moment transphobic slurs were hurtled at you. It was like the devil himself possessed the Papa and he was in your family in an instant. You can’t say you’ve ever seen anyone cuss out your family and spit at them in Italian, but here you were. Nihil absolutely ripped into EVERYONE around him that was mean to you, making everything go into stunned silence. Ghouls had to physically hold him back as he told your family what awful, selfish, ignorant, dead brained, shitty, pieces of filth they were and he hoped they rotted. He promised they’d never see you again as long as he lived! It was nice to hear someone have your back so loudly, even if the neighbors were watching… Nihil apologizes to you later when you get your bag into your car. But you give him a peck on the cheek and thank him. Frankly, you wanted to do it but it was worth seeing their faces and knowing you’d never talk to those people again!

Papa I:If someone can’t respect you, they don’t deserve access to you. Family or no, they don’t get to invalidate and criticize you and expect you in their lives. Papa won’t pretend cutting them off is the easiest feat in the world. Familial relationships are some of the most complicated ones to break for many people. However, he will give you the tools and support to be able to do it. You DESERVE to have a family who loves you, not hurt you. If you haven’t already done so Papa offers to finally move you into his quarters- like a proper partner. He advises hard distance and cutting contact altogether when you are ready. Papa worries that you might feel alone after breaking ties, but he assures you you’ll never be alone with everyone at the ministry. He will wholeheartedly tell you, speaking from experience, that sometimes family is who you choose, not who is connected through blood. Today is a good day to start making sure your true family is full of ONLY people who love and cherish you.

Papa II: Given the opportunity, Papa would absolutely rip your family to shreds for their cruelty. Verbally and physically if you let him! But Papa never wants to take power away from you, and will support you how YOU see fit. While he is by your side unconditionally, the way you want to proceed is YOUR decision. However, he will encourage that if you want to tell your family to fuck off to their faces he will assure your safety. It took you a few days of your own soul searching, but you realized Papa was right. You don’t deserve the bullshit your family puts you through. When you are comfortable enough to confront your family directly, he offers to be next to you the entire time. You are the only one who gets to speak, Papa is just the scary looking one behind you making sure no one interrupts or gas lights you. If you were still living at home he has the ghouls gather your things in the background to leave. Whether it’s coming home with him or Papa helping you get your own place, Papa wants to make sure you are in a safe environment away from those assholes. Most importantly, Papa spends the time after with you to make sure you are ok. He knows how difficult it is to confront an abusive family. Definitely won’t let you stay alone until he is sure you are ok.

Papa III: Unfortunately (Fortunately?) for you, you are dating one of the most vindictive beings in the entire living world. Papa does comfort you, but he has a horrible habit of taking his revenge on people without letting you know. Knowing your family is so disrespectful to you really sets him off. You have no idea what he’s planning, as he’s too busy keeping up a good face and focusing mainly on taking care of you. He holds you, lets you cry, and gets you small gifts to cheer you up. Telling you how much he loves you and no one is ever going to hurt you… until you go to sleep. Then he slips into action! Copia is the type to JOKE about letting the ghouls shit on your family’s porch… Papa is the one who actually DOES IT. Depending on how cruel your family is determines the amount of damage Papa is going to do. So don’t be surprised when someone in your family calls demanding WHY THEIR CAR IS KEYED OR THEY LOST THEIR JOB! Papa takes your phone, hangs it up, and smiles sheepishly at you. You split on whether you should be annoyed at him or happy he loves you so much to fuck with people who hurt you. “I think I owe you an apology… but not to them.” What a dork.

Papa IV/Cardinal Copia: His first concern is if YOU are ok above everything else! Not that you are just physically safe and out of harm's way, but if you are emotionally coping. Though many are still ignorant, Copia knows that cruelty from family specifically cuts in a deeper way. Copia offers for you to stay at the Abbey, preferably in his quarters where you have him and others to talk to. He won’t force you to move in with him, but he WILL give you the option to have a safe place to stay. Definitely encourages you to keep away from your family for a while. Just have a few days to clear your head and figure out what you want to do. He’s your shoulder to cry on if needed and the person you can trust to vent to. Truthfully, Copia so badly wants to go raise Hell to everyone who is hurting you- tell each and everyone of them off and make their lives miserable… but that isn’t his place. However, Copia will do EVERYTHING to make sure you are happy and loved while you are there. Copia would never allow transphobia in his ministry, ever. So long as you are feeling supported, that’s all that matters to him. To make you smile he says, “but if you change your mind, I’ll have the ghouls take a shit on your family’s porch… the uh, option is still on the table!”

[the-himawari]

A3! Mizuno Kaya - Translation [SSR] The Company President of April 1st (1/3)

*Please read disclaimer on blog; default name set as Izumi

---

I’m Tachibana Izumi, and starting today, I’ve become a new employee working at MIZUNO Enterprise! It seems I’m the only employee who’s been recruited this year due to various circumstances, so I’m a little bit anxious…

But this is the start of my adult working life I’ve been longing for.

I’m not sure where I’m going to be assigned yet, but no matter which job is entrusted to me, I’ll do my best so I can contribute to the company...!

-pause-

Isuke: Good afternoon, Tachibana-san! I haven’t seen you since orientation, huh? How do you do? I’m the Human Resources manager, Matsukawa. It’s very nice to meet you.

Izumi: N-nice to meet you! (The Human Resources manager Matsukawa-san; I was surprised at first at his tattered suit that looks unbecoming for a large company…) (But I felt moved when I heard that it was a way for others to let their guard down, and it’s his belief that he wants to cherish things.)

Isuke: Ahaha, are you nervous? It’ll be fine. You may be our only recent-grad hire this year, but don't worry since we plan to support you fully!

Izumi: Thank you very much.

Isuke: Now then, you will take a tour of each department today to gain a better understanding of the various aspects of our work. At MIZUNO Enterprise, we value the independence of our employees—. So after getting a look at the work that we do, you may provide your own request on where you’d like to be assigned. And we will respect it to the best of our abilities.

Izumi: Oh, really…! (As I expected, the company culture sure is free.)

Isuke: So then, he will take it from here. Please go ahead.

Mizuno: Yes.

Izumi: (!?!? MIZUNO Enterprise’s President, Mizuno Kaya…!?)

Mizuno: Good afternoon, I’m Mizuno Kaya. It’s a pleasure to meet you.

Izumi: Y-yes! It’s nice to meet you!

Mizuno: Now then, how about we get going, Tachibana-san?

-pause-

Izumi: (It’s the first time I’m meeting with the President up close since the final interview…)

Mizuno: Sorry for startling you there. As the President, I must be able to properly explain both the company’s positive points and negative points myself—. And it’s a tradition to have the President personally give a tour of the departments to the new hires.

Izumi: I see… (I was surprised at the amazing reception, but I’m grateful for this valuable opportunity. Let’s listen properly to what he has to say.)

-pause-

Mizuno: Here are our offices. Come in. We have a variety of departments in order for the company to function, including Administrative departments such as the the Human Resources department that Matsukawa-san from earlier belongs to.

Izumi: (Woah…! It’s bustling in here.) (That department over there in particular is especially lively.)

Mizuno: Ahh, those guys over there are the members of the Sales department. Shall we head on over?

Tenma: Yeah, in that case, leave it to me. Of course, I’ll definitely deliver results that exceed your expectations. I’ll create the best product that will surprise and leave anyone impressed. Hmph, ME!!! I'm the one in charge here. I’ll make you think it was a good decision to entrust it to me, so look forward to it.

Mizuno: He’s Sumeragi-kun. He’s famous as he’s called the smug-faced salesman and he’s extremely dependable.

Izumi: (I wonder if his smug face conveys to the customer through the telephone receiver… That’s some amazing technology.)

Yuki: The design of this document I made is cute and easy on the eyes, right? Fufu, are you interested? Then let me let you a story… One of our company’s dazzling management philosophies is…

Mizuno: Over there is the beautiful salesman, Rurikawa-kun. He has many fans of his unique aura as well.

Muku: Awawawa, I’m a tri-coloured ballpen where only one of the colours has ran out. And I'm a flimsy, fluttering piece of scrap paper that’s been shredded—. I can’t believe I’m being praised like that…! B-but I’m happy you said so. If there is anything I can help you with, please let me know!

Mizuno: Sakisaka-kun’s called the negative salesman, but he’s humble, earnest, and very kind.

Misumi: How’s the triangle over here~? I recommend this triangle too! By triangle, you mean a triangle~? Yay!

Mizuno: Triangle salesman Ikaruga-kun is a mysterious person… He has more passion towards triangles than anyone else, and everyone is won over by his presentation.

Kumon: Yep, please let me know anytime! I’LL HELP YOU WITH ALL MY ABSOLUTE MIGHT!! I can ride my bike long distances at 100km/h, and I’m totally fine with meetings starting at 4 in the morning too! I’ll definitely, definitely do my best, SO PLEASE CHOOSE OUR COMPANY!!

Mizuno: The hot-blooded, sporty salesman, Hyodo-kun, is a very hard worker and that fire and cheerfulness energizes you.

Izumi: Everyone’s so distinctive, brilliant, and they’re really wonderful people!

Mizuno: Indeed. And the one with the best performance in the Sales department is…

Kazunari: That, and that, and this too—everything’s a-okaaaay! ‘Kay, just leave everything to me~! Got it, piko! Beri-san~! Oh-em-gee, for real! I totes feel you~! It’s wicked lit and hella full of feelsies, right!*

Mizuno: The party dude salesman Kazunari-kun takes pride in his overwhelming communication power. He was also the top sales performer in March.

Izumi: Amazing…!

Tenma: Damn it, just you wait and see. I’ll become the top in April.

Kumon: UWOHH, I’m not gonna lose either!

Muku: M-me neither…!

Izumi: (Woah, woah… sparks are flying…!)

Mizuno: Even so, those guys go out to play after work together and their synergy is impressive as well.

Izumi: ! Oh, really…! (I see, they’re good rivals and coworkers. I bet their private lives are fulfilling too.)

Misumi: Ah, President-san~!

Muku: Could it be, is the person with you the rumoured new employee?

Mizuno: Yes. I’m just giving her a tour of the departments.

Izumi: I’m Tachibana Izumi. It’s nice to meet you!

Misumi: Wahh, nice to meet you~!

Kazunari: Oh man, you’re a fresh, super cutie, huh! Like, legit swooned! Hey, hey, let’s exchange LIMEs, new hire-chan!

Kumon: That’s not fair, Kazu-san! I wanna become friends with Tachibana-san too!

Tenma: Heh, you do seem motivated, and you’ve got quite a good eye. What do you think, how about you come to the Sales department?

Misumi: Working together with you sounds so fun~!

Yuki: That’s fine, right? I’ll teach you lots of different things if you join.

Muku: We’d be delighted to have you! Of course, please call out to me anytime even if you decide to join a different department.

Kazunari: You’d seriously be super duper welcome! I’ll lend a hand for anything and I’ll be here for you ☆

Izumi: Wahh, thank you all very much!

Mizuno: Fufu, Tachibana-san, you’re a huge hit right away, hm?

???: Ohh, ohh, y’all at the Sales department!

Izumi: !?

---

*Yeah I took some liberties here cause not even google could comprehend this slang lmao

| next

[inglorious-purpose]

First of all, I want to emphasize that I like Sophia di Martino and I think she did a wonderful job portraying Sylvie. I realize some people have different opinions and that’s cool; I just personally feel that she did a great job of getting into Sylvie’s head and showing her emotions and personality, given the less-than-stellar script she had to work with. I also think that with some fleshing out, Sylvie could be a really interesting and complex character.

Having said all that, anyone who reads my blog knows that I’m not a fan of S*lki because aside from a tender look here or gentle touch there, Sylvie treats Loki like shit. And this whole dynamic of being mostly an asshole while meting out the occasional sign of affection is a hallmark of abusive relationships. I mean, if Sylvie has a massive change of heart and starts treating Loki with the love and compassion he deserves, then I’ll be happy to see them together. Otherwise, big nope. (FWIW I’m not a Lokius shipper either.)

In any case, I found this quote from Sophia really interesting:

I think she definitely cares about Loki; it’s the closest she has ever been to loving another being. The fact that he cares about her, too, is probably wildly uncomfortable for her. She’s never been close to another person her whole life. So it’s super complicated. ...

Ultimately, she chooses her revenge, and she chooses the path that she’s been planning to go down for her whole life—to kill He Who Remains. [To do that], she has to sort of get rid of Loki. I like to think of it as, she’s making sure he’s okay by getting him out of the way. He doesn’t stop her from doing what she needs to do, but she’s able to put him somewhere safe for a minute.

She definitely cares about him. I don’t know if she's in love with him. It’s such a complicated thing because he’s a sort of variant of her, too.

source

I think the part about Sylvie not knowing how she really feels about Loki is a totally fair read on the character. She’s confused, and who can blame her? She’s only known the guy for a day or two. Sure he seems nice but he nearly ruined her lifelong goal of revenge, and almost got them killed on Lamentis. And now he suddenly wants them to spend their entire future together -- like, dude, slow down a little! (Been there girl, been there.)

As for Sylvie pushing Loki through the Time Door to keep him safe, I don’t quite buy it. I mean, she just spent the past five minutes trying to shred his ass with her sword. She’s not holding back at all. He’s on the defensive, clearly trying to block her blows without hurting her, while she’s just hacking away. Also, what exactly is she protecting him from? Sylvie doesn’t think anything bad is going to happen if she kills HWR. She says he’s lying, she doesn’t believe in his “boogeymen,” she doesn’t even believe that Loki believes him. She’s decided that this is all a ploy for Loki to get his throne. Lastly, she sends him back to the TVA, where he’s still a wanted man. Unless Mobius finds him before anyone else does, he’s likely to be taken prisoner again, maybe killed. It’s not like she sent him to a happy meadow of daisies or some shit. She breaks his heart and nearly breaks his neck too. (Moment of appreciation for Tom’s stunt double. Good job, man.)

So is she trying to keep him safe? No. I can understand why people want to interpret it this way -- and in fact I’ve seen a number of fans claim that she was trying to protect him -- but the argument doesn’t hold up with the evidence. Yes, she looks sad after she yeets him. She probably regrets it. But her actions in that moment are simply cruel.

I kind of suspect that Sylvie is being set up as an antagonist against Loki rather than a companion, which could lead to some interesting dynamics down the line. If that happens, perhaps Loki will find better friends and maybe even a decent love interest who treats him with respect and care. After all he’s been through, Loki deserves it.

[bibbykins]

can u give us a glimpse into what arguing w/ the princes would be like? love ur work btw!!

You bet! I actually had something written about this ages ago but never finished it so I’ll paste it here and add some more!

Warnings: 18+ (just like my whole page and all my works are)This is where the toxicity and unhealthiness of these relationships show, manipulation, yelling, lying, mentions of sex, mentions of rough sex, mentions of various sexual acts (cunnilingus, fellatio, exhibition) I beg of you to not put up with any of this shit irl let fiction stay in the fictional world yknow? I always ramble in my fics about this but I figured I should add it here for good measure

Jin:

Where the other boys rarely ever just “argue” and it is either a fight or nothing, you guys just argue sometimes, never rlly fight

This ties back to the fierce honesty policy you have between each other, but you both are so stubborn so arguing does happen

You both usually start by saying snarky things until one of you breaks and says what is really bothering them, which doesn’t take long at all

If you cry, congrats, you automatically won bc Jin not only does not know how to deal with a woman’s tears, he cannot fathom his one true love crying

Although you usually try to continue explaining your reasoning bc you don’t wanna win by crying, you wanna win bc you’re right

Jin, similar to Jimin, respects you a lot, so the other girls seldom ever catch him acting like a clown’

His downfall is just being bad at expressing his feelings bc he thinks you just know, like you read minds or something

Jin usually apologizes by asking what you want after he forfeits his pride so if it’s a gift, he’s on it, sex? say less. 

He usually prefers to pamper you for a night, not even cumming during sex unless you tell him to

You’re the one who threatens the other fellas when they’re disrespecting their s/o, intentionally or not, and boy are they frightened. You rlly have a way with insults

Yoongi:

Bickers with you, but doesn't fight and everyone does not understand how bc he’s so standoffish to everyone else

Bc your relationship has the most public eyes on it, gossip columns are floored when they cannot find flaws or rumors of fights, and most are too intimidated by Yoongi to just make them up

You both read each other like a book, so the only time anything comes up is if you don’t like what you’re reading at that moment and vice versa, then a fight might start but it is shockingly rare

If he makes you cry, the fight is over, he lost. Yes, this is a running theme among the guys bc they are all whipped dummies

Very perceptive of your feelings, so never really worries about fighting with you or you hiding anything from him

You know how to get him to fess up so it's not the worst system of communication (still not healthy in the slightest but that’s the yandere life here)

He doesn't really try to lie to you or hide anything since you're also pretty bonkers so if he destroyed someone’s career bc he thought they looked at funny, you just roll your eyes and tell him he’s silly

You are the one that Jungkook and Taehyung are terrified of (It’s just about all the hyungline gf’s they are rlly scared of)

You’re usually so bubbly and energetic, but if you get pissed off, you’re as frightening if not more frightening than Yoongi

I should add Yoongi prefers to make up by marathon eating you out, at some point, it feels like he’s getting a kick out of it, but you’re in no place to complain tbh

Hoseok:

Not a lot of fighting here tbh bc you are still healing and your talent is in deescalating situations and telling people’s feeling

Your job is literally a behavior analyst so you will just deadass be like, “I can tell you’re getting frustrated to a point where effective communication won’t be possible, so how can I help calm you down?”

Makes him go silent real quick and reevaluate everything he has ever thought or done

For this reason, he just sighs and apologizes, genuinely bc you can absolutely tell when he’s just saying it to shut you up

He is the only one that will allow you to leave (the room, not the house) not that you want to leave the building considering the dangers you know are out there

Once you both cool off, you’ll have him state what he thought about and vice versa

You give advice to all the girls on how to do this, but not all of them are brave enough to try

So you go full mama bear mediator and step in when you feel the need

You genuinely frighten these guys bc you have this innate ability to make them feel dumb as fuck

Namjoon:

No fights rlly but misunderstandings happen that makes Joon go manic

You get frustrated bc he does this instead of just talking to you, but he’s learning little by little

The moment you aren’t smiling or trying to make a light joke with him, fight over, you won, he is worried

Bc he knows if you’re not smiling, you’re almost definitely going to cry and when you cry, he cries

You actually implement Angel’s tips and see some improvement with communication as time goes on

Namjoon’s love language in making up is grand gestures, so he’ll rent out a whole restaurant, or take you on a shopping spree to an art supply store, anything that will bring a smile to your face

You intimidate the other guys when they fight with their darlings bc you keep a smile the whole time you are threatening them and holy fuck is it eerie. You usually try to distract the upset girls post-argument with a craft or fun art facts

Jimin:

What makes the relationship work are your selfish tendencies working in tandem with his more sinister ones, but it can’t always work that way

You both test each other all the time despite agreeing on almost everything because the relationship is not a fight for dominance, but control-control you usually win 

The closest you get to real fighting is rough sex, most of the time you have disagreements that you resolve with conversation

It's the most “healthy” (it’s not all that healthy tbh) thing about the relationship and it blows everyone's minds, but it only happens bc Jimin has always respected you, and he genuinely knows that you don’t need him as much as he needs you

But on the extremely rare occasion there is a fight it is never in front of anyone and all hell breaks loose: screaming, yelling, slamming doors, it all seems like endless hell bc you both are too stubborn to say when you’re wrong

Until you cry

He really can't stand the sight of you crying, bc you rarely ever cry. He sees you as really tough and his whole perception of the world shatters once he realizes he’s the cause of your tears

Making up includes, you guessed it, sex. Like calling into work bc you can’t walk sex (Jimin cries during this sex bc he feels undeserving but by round 2 he stops)

The girls come to you post-argument to rant bc you live to talk shit with them to vent

Taehyung:

Rarely ever fights with you, because he absolutely despises doing so and you typically do what he says without question

But when you do fight, it always ends with both of you crying and hugging

During the argument though, he can say some seriously out of pocket shit, bc he lacks impulse control and you take that shit to hear bc who wouldn’t 

The fights are nightmarish and hard to watch bc at some point it just becomes Taehyung losing his mind while you cower until he realizes how much of an asshole he’s being or until you try to leave mid convo

Bless him if he were to ever make you cry in front of the other MC’s, my guy would be ripped to shreds bc the other girls do not fuck around

Hates to ever be the cause of your tears so you both are very quick to makeup and he can spend up to weeks making up for it

I’m talking gifts, money, food, dates, clothes, he is basically your personal assistant that pays you when he feels bad

The girl’s come to you after an argument for quiet time or some cute embroidery time

Jungkook:

You don't fight often, but when you do it's disastrous bc he is wildly paranoid and you are wildly insecure

You almost always go into a panic attack, fearing he'll leave you and he immediately loses all fight in him and feels like shit

And he is absolutely crushed seeing you hyperventilate or clutch your chest while he's yelling so he just stops like mid yell will just close his mouth and take a deep breath before going to you 

Immediately apologizes when it happens

Usually cries with you while he holds you

Another fella that will get torn to shreds by the other girls if they even catch a whiff of him being anything other than sunshine and rainbows to you rip jungkook tbh

He makes it up to you the same way Taehyung makes it up, by shutting his mouth and doing whatever you want, and giving you whatever you want

When the other girls get into an argument with their guy, they come to you for a hug and some quality time distraction

[offda-rails-art]

Been a while since I’ve enjoyed art. I finally finished my story-no color becuase paint is expensive and I can expand more by doing what I love most-sketching. Slight gore warning, like typical horror movie gore⚠️

Thank you for anyone following me recently, even though I haven’t been very active. I hope this makes up for it. Peace and love. Lochlan’s story part one👇

The countryside of Hennessy had a horrible storm roll in. It poured endlessly all night and into morning. The seemingly endless pounding rain made everything a muddy slippery mess, and with that the tracks were overflowed with water. Travel for any engine was dangerous so it was decided that everyone would take the day off and wait out the storm inside. Old Red, Donner, and Cracker Jack had already been in the roundhouse that night and early in the morning they were told “no work for today. Too dangerous.”

Lochlan had still been on his job pulling a long train all night. Something that had been expected to be finished by early morning was delayed by the rain. Lochlan went along the tracks carefully and managed to deliver his train by late afternoon meanwhile the rest of the engines back at the roundhouse were confined to their berths all day. And with that the group of 3 were very bored.

Lochlan backed his way into his respective berth, he was soaked from being in the down pour all day. He was also visibly tired from his tedious journey of start stop all through the wet slippery tracks. Before the poor big engine could get a word out Cracker Jack piped up. “About time! Reds been going on and on about silly stories. We’ve traded back and forth on interesting ones of our own. Well, Donner and I at least. Reds giving the whole “Wild West romance, forbidden engine/human love” spiel again.” Cracker Jack groaned.

“My recounts of pistol packing cowgirls are not romance stories! I’m simply making it clear that women are just as dangerous as men! That’s all!” Red growled quick to defend himself. His face turning slightly pink.

“Sure. Keep telling yourself that you old fart.” Cracker Jack smirked. Even Donner gave a slight chuckle in agreement.

Lochlan smiled and shook what water dripped down his face off. Cracker Jack grinned up at Lochlan expectantly. “Suppose you have anything of your own to share?” Cracker Jack asked, his grin widened hoping that Lochlan would have a story to tell. At least one that wouldn’t put him to sleep. Or any about his love interests.

“Me? What kind of story? I don’t do much that interesting.” Lochlan sighed and tried to think of anything worth telling.

“Lochlan. You’re huge. You see the world from a different point of view everyday. You do the more than any other engine on the railway. You’ve been everywhere, you must have something?” Cracker Jack retorted. Lochlan frowned and clicked his tongue in thought. A loud crack of thunder boomed in the background and shook the roundhouse. The 4 engines jumped at the sudden loud noise. The natural fearful reaction to the loud noise gave Lochlan an idea.

“What about a scary story?” He smiled and knew exactly what to share. The other three raised their brows in interest. Cracker Jack noticeably grew attentive.

“Yes! I think we can all agree that horror over a whole romance novel is sure to help pass the time!” Cracker Jack grinned. It took Red a second to process the slight dig made at him. He only grumbled and rolled his eyes.

“Good! I have just the one! It happened the very first week I arrived here.” Lochlan grinned and cleared his throat to begin.

When Lochlan first arrived at Hennessy he was immediately tasked with pulling long trains of heavy and important cargo for distances many other engines couldn’t travel. He traveled from late at night till very early morning so naturally his rest time in the afternoon was spent in any noisy bustling yard he could manage to get a break in. Most of the time Lochlan couldn’t sleep with all the noise. He didn’t mind not napping but peace and quiet was something he could definitely enjoy. It seemed that wouldn’t be an option for a while with his break schedule. So, Lochlan decided to eavesdrop on his human counterparts. They did after all have interesting things to share. While in a yard one afternoon the prefect opportunity to eavesdrop came in, a group of engineers decided to take their break not far away from him. They sat down on some old flatbeds and joked around for a while. The oldest man in the group began talking about his past colleague who was a Native American. He recounted all kinds of interesting things his colleague shared. From ancestral meanings to cultural symbols, but then he brought up something strange. Lochlan grew curious and listened in best he could. The engineer asked the others if they ever heard what a “wendigo” was. The two men shook their heads. Lochlan listened in as the man explained to them what it was, and the reason for bringing it up.

The engineer grew serious before beginning, “ a couple years back a rancher went missing out by his home just a good ten miles from the south side of Hennessy. No one knew how he could possibly go missing, he was in touch with the locals and was a very smart man. He knew the wildlife and his homeland well enough to where an animal attack was ruled out. He carried a gun on him all the time to stay safe and no one would want to harm a lonely rancher with not much of anything to give anyway. Robbery and murder was ruled out too, especially after his home was found kept well with nothing out of the ordinary or missing. He just seemed to have vanished along with his horse and dog. The sheriff decided he could’ve left unannounced for private reasons and perhaps he would turn up soon. It wasn’t until a week later a hunter stumbled across what was left of the poor rancher. He was so severely mangled that the only thing that showed proof it was him was his hat, horse and dog. Whatever creature that did that couldn’t possibly be a bear, or even a pack of wolves. Only the rancher looked like something had eaten parts of him. His horse and dog were for the most part untouched, the possibility a rabid bear attacked him was brought up due to the massive claw marks and slashes embedded in his horse and dog. And how badly the man was shredded. But what bear could be that big? A search for whatever rabid bear or sick pack of wolves was put out but nothing was recovered.

No one wanted to admit but they were scared. The scene was so brutal it seemed almost impossible another living thing could do that. It was swept under the rug and everyone tried to forget about it in hopes it would just go away. It seems there’s no answer for what happened right? Well your wrong, that’s were this “wendigo” comes in. Wendigos have an insatiable hunger for human flesh, they crave taunting people and torturing them until giving them a brutal horrible death only to feast on their scared poor souls. They tower above the tallest pine trees, make blood curdling screams, and can strip the flesh from your bones instantly. He wasn’t attacked by a rabid animal, he was murdered and eaten alive by one of those foul beasts. Only something that big and mercilessly brutal could’ve done such a thing. And why eat just the person? An animal would’ve taken all it could get. Dog and horse would’ve been part of the main course as well.”

The two other men who listened in shuddered upon the end of the tale. Lochlan was intrigued but was interrupted by his crew coming to fetch him from his break. He needed to get back to work and couldn’t listen in anymore. He sighed and set off to collect his train, he had plenty of time to ponder what he just heard on his long quiet journey.

Lochlan enjoyed the unexplainable, everything had an explanation. An answer. While the story of the wendigo was interesting to him he couldn’t help but believe it was simply a tall tale. Even with how big and goofy the engine could be, he wasn’t gullible. The only way he’d believe something is if he witnessed it first hand. And as far as he knew he never saw any forest animal that towered over pine trees or had a specific desire for human flesh. But for some reason something inside him wouldn’t let go of it. The story was kept in the back of his mind and not forgotten.

Lochlans first week on Hennessy’s railway was almost over. He already gotten familiar with the area and his routes in the short time he was there. His job went swillingly and it was something he wouldn’t mind spending the rest of his days doing. Oh, and no strange gigantic monsters hungry for human flesh appeared. There was one route Lochlan hadn’t traveled yet, and the unkept longer line of tracks was only taken if necessary but no reason was ever really given as to why it wasn’t used. But with only almost a week of experience on the railway he had a lot more to learn and explore.

While Lochlan pulled a long train of cargo with the morning newspaper edition, important mail, and dairy that needed to get to its destination quickly in order to not spoil he came to a stop when he realized his normal route back into Hennessy was blocked. Someone had derailed and a big mess of tar trucks were scattered everywhere. Lochlans engineers grew frustrated and argued with the crewmen in charge of cleaning up the wreck. “Listen pal, it’s going to take all night to clean this mess up. You’ll just have to wait until morning to pass through or go through the south side.” The agitated worker groaned and pointed up ahead to a route Lochlan wasn’t familiar with.

“Well. We most certainly ain’t got time to wait. I’ve got the morning paper to deliver and dairy that will spoil! Come on big feller we’ll just have to go through the south side which will still delay our schedule because some incompetent idiot can’t operate an engine worth Jack shit.” Lochlans engineer growled and made his way back to his cab. Lochlan looked on curiously up ahead at this new route. The grass ahead was severely overgrown, and by the looks of the track no one seemed to have been down it for a decade. His cow plow would come in handy to shove away any overgrowth that littered the track up ahead. Lochlan puffed down the track without incident. He sliced through any overgrowth that littered his path, and was thankful for his bright headlamp because it seemed any lights that lit up the track before had been left not repaired. Lochlan had come upon something odd as he plunged further down the unused route. A herd of deer were stopped close by the tracks, what was odd to him was that the animals didn’t acknowledge his presence at all. It was normal for the forest animals to hurriedly clear the way when any loud engine chuffed close, to the animals an engine was another predator to run away from. But the large herd of deer stood stalk still, their backs turned towards him and their heads cocked up looking into the distance at something. They didn’t dare move and their fear was focused on something Lochlan couldn’t see. Lochlan raised a brow and chuffed by but the deer didn’t move. Even as steam whooshed out and his own massive frame rumbled on the rails shaking the ground. The deer seemed to care less about him. It was one of the most peculiar things he had seen, but he had no idea it was about to get worse.

Tumblr limits posts and I have to many illustrations to do one part. So I’ll have to skeet part two in another separate post. Stick around for the second part if you enjoy so far. Thanks so much for people who’ve stuck around my blog and actually wanted to read my stories. I really really appreciate it.

[p-artsypants]

The Ghost of Smokey Joe (1)

Minnie the Moocher

Adrien Agreste was acting bizarre. Stilted body language, plastic smile, and he seemed to have forgotten how close they were. Before she can get the truth out of him, Marinette finds herself as the sole heir to the Gabriel brand and the mansion, following the murder-suicide of both Adrien and Gabriel Agreste. The mystery continues as Tikki explains that Adrien was Chat Noir...but if Adrien is six feet under, why is Chat Noir still running around?

Ao3 | FF.net

This was started before season three ended, though I was busy at the time and couldn’t finish it. Basically, season 4 never happened, and the Peacock Miraculous is still broken. 

—

At the age of 22, life had a good projection for Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She finally got her big break, somewhat thanks to Adrien. She was working at Gabriel, as one of Gabriel Agreste’s lead designers, though she was still technically an intern. Though Adrien didn’t directly have a hand in getting her the job, his continued praise of her work in front of his father probably had something to do with it. 

Though it was never confirmed, Marinette would never have to worry if she got the job on her own merit or not. She did. 

In fact, Gabriel was continually impressed with her work, even after she had landed the position. His harsh criticisms ended with her. Where he never hesitated to rip another designer to shreds for a mistake, Marinette never had to face that rage. 

He just honestly respected her too much to do so. And it helped that she was so gracious with his critiques. Never taking anything personally, and doing everything for the brand. 

Co-workers probably could have been resentful to her, but if they were, it was never outwardly shown. It helped that she readily got along with and tried to be friends with everyone. She took advice to heart, and accepted criticisms professionally. So it was hard to dislike her. Even when she was the one that was accepted into the Agreste Manor to work with Gabriel in person. A rare treat for any employee. And she got to go at least twice a week.

There was just one little tiny problem. 

8 years later, Marinette no longer had a crush on Adrien. Oh no, she was head over heels in love with him. The deepest, most pure, sweet, and sincere love there was. And he had no clue.

It was her curse. As they got older and matured, so did her feelings. He only got more handsome, more friendly and outgoing, and more perfect to her. He learned he was allowed to be affectionate with his friends, her, Alya, and Nino, and didn’t hold back. Marinette was showered in hugs, cheek kisses, and hand holds. All punctuated with the dreaded phrase, ‘you’re such a great friend, Marinette’. 

It’s like he wanted her to suffer. 

As they graduated Collegé, Adrien confessed that he was afraid they’d all grow apart as they went off to University. Marinette took that as a challenge and made sure to invite them to weekly get-togethers. And so friends did they remain. 

And only friends. 

Marinettte came home to her shared apartment with Alya. Her long time best friend was sprawled out in the middle of the living room, surrounded by swatches. 

Marinette laughed at the sight. “Wedding blues?”

“Yes!” Alya shrieked, sitting up. “We’ve been together for 8 years, engaged for six months, and I still haven’t picked our colors yet!”

“I thought you were doing burnt sienna and forest green? You know, a call back to your stint as Rena Rouge and Carapace?” A supposed secret between them up until a few years ago. 

“I can’t. I don’t like the combination anymore. And no matter how temporary, our superhero run should remain a secret. I shouldn’t have even told you.” She started cleaning up the swatches, resigned to know that she wasn’t getting anywhere tonight. “How goes the apartment search?”

Marinette winced. “Not as great as I was hoping. A lot of places that I could afford, but I could afford better with a roommate. I want to have savings, you know?” 

“Did you ask Adrien?” 

Marinette blushed. “You know that’s not a good idea.” 

“Why not? He’s still living at the mansion. And you’re such good friends.” Alya smirked at her. “Or, you could just ask him out. Then live with your parents for a few months until he realizes how perfect you are and proposes.” 

“That’s not going to happen.” 

“Says you! Look, you’re my maid of honor, he’s Nino’s best man. At least ask him out as a pretense to have an official date to the wedding.” 

“A wedding that’s six months away?” Marinette asked, as she hung up her purse and coat. “And what if something catastrophic happens between then?”

“Then you kiss and make up at my wedding.”

Marinette rolled her eyes before heading over to the kitchen. “Alya, he hasn’t dated anyone since Kagami. I think he’s holding out for someone.” 

“Yeah! You!” 

Marinette fondly shook her head. “He’s not.” 

“He is!”

“Did he tell Nino, and he told you?” 

“Well, no. Nino’s been trying for years to get his crush out of him.” 

“Then, there you go. If it was me, Nino would have found out by now. No, it’s someone else. Maybe a married woman, or a man.” 

Alya laughed at that. “Girl, you always go to the worst case scenario. Just…flirt with him a little, prod him with your womanly wiles.” Then she batted her eyes. “Please? For me?” 

“Alright. I’ll see what I can do. You know it’s going to go so well this time, right?”

“That’s the spirit!”

“I was being sarcastic!”

Folks here's a story 'bout Minnie the Moocher,

She was a red hot hoochie coocher,

She was the roughest, toughest frail,

But Minnie had a heart as big as a whale.

The next day at work, Marinette forgot all about flirting. It was a race to finish her project. She had gotten the design approved, and now it was on to start assembling the piece. 

There was a knock at her office door. 

“‘Ome ‘n,” she said with a mouth full of pins. 

Who would arrive except for handsome, angelic, and...pale? Adrien. “Are you busy?” He asked with a small voice. 

Quickly, Marinette shoved the pins into the fabric to hold it in place, and dumped the rest back into the tin. 

“I can take a break.” Anything for you. She thought, offering him a chair. 

“Thanks,” he nearly collapsed into it. Then he looked around the office, for what, she didn’t know. 

“Soooo...what’s up?” 

Adrien didn’t answer right away, still scanning the room, eyes narrowed. He rubbed his palms on his pants. 

“Are you okay?” She pushed a little more. 

“Huh? Oh, uh…” He clenched his fists and swallowed harshly. “Do you…want to have dinner with me tonight?” 

A blush stained her cheeks. “Really?”

“Yeah, um…somewhere private. I want to talk to you about something, but um…it’s a secret.” 

“Well, Alya is going on a late night date with Nino, if you want to come to our apartment. I could just order some Chinese?”

He exhaled slowly and smiled at her. “That sounds awesome, thanks Marinette.” 

“What time? I get out around 6.” 

“I’ll meet you at 7 then?” 

“Yeah, yeah that sounds perfect.” Spurred on by the fact he was finally asking her out on a date, Marinette leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

Adrien blushed furiously before standing. “Um, I’ll see you tonight then. Thanks for um…yeah, I’ll let you get back to work.” 

Marinette continued to grin at him shyly until he left. Then she collapsed in the chair he had occupied. She didn’t have to flirt or do anything! It was finally happening! A date! With Adrien! 

She ran to her purse and snatched up her phone. “Alya!” She called. “Alya, it finally happened! Clear the next 15 minutes and get the popcorn, I need to panic!” 

He gave her his townhouse and his racing horses

Each meal she ate was a dozen courses

She had a million dollars worth of nickels and dimes

She sat around and counted them all a million times

That night, Marinette sat ready and waiting. The apartment was spotless. She had ordered his favorite dish, and wore a cute little green dress (his favorite color.)

“Alright, I’m leaving,” declared Alya. “You two behave.” 

“It’s a first date, Alya. Like we’re going to do anything at all.” 

“Puh-lease, the sexual tension between you two is unbearable. He’s going to be on you like white on rice!” 

“Don’t be so vulgar!” Marinette laughed. “Adrien is a gentleman.” 

“Sure. Anyways, I hope you have fun!” 

“I’m sure we will.”

“Bye girl, bye.” 

“Bye girl, bye!” 

And the door closed. 

Any minute now, Adrien would be knocking. And then what? Would he kiss her cheek like she had? A hug maybe? Or both? What was appropriate for her? Offer to take his coat? Yes yes, that sounded right. Was her hair okay? She brushed her teeth, right? 

“Wine!” She announced. “What wine pairs with Chinese food?” 

“Might I suggest Riesling?” Said Tikki, from her hiding place. 

“Riesling! Riesling…I don’t have Riesling! I don’t know what that is!” 

Tikki laughed at her. “Marinette, just relax. Just do a Rosé. It’s fine.” 

Marinette hurried to the cabinet and fetched a bottle and two glasses. Then she poured one for herself and downed it in one go. “I don’t know if I can do this! I’m so nervous!” 

“You and Adrien are great friends, it’ll go great! Just relax and enjoy it. He’s not even here yet, there’s no reason to panic.” 

“You’re right! I’ll just…I’ll just wait!” 

So she sat and fidgeted. Nothing to do but wait.

And wait she did.

8 o’clock came before she knew it. And she checked her phone. Nothing. 

Did you forget about dinner? She texted.

There was no reply.

“It’s alright Marinette, he’ll come. Maybe he got held up in traffic, or his father needed him for something?” Tikki said encouragingly. 

“Yeah, maybe…he’d at least call, wouldn’t he?” Not waiting for an answer, she called him first. 

“Hey there, it’s Adrien, I’m not available to answer right now…” 

She hung up.

She poured herself another glass. “He wouldn’t just…ghost me?” 

“He cares a lot about you, of course he wouldn’t.” 

“Hey there, it’s Adrien, I’m not available to answer right now…” Another voicemail. 

9 o’clock. 

Poor Min, poor Min, poor Min

“Hey there, it’s Adrien, I’m not available to answer right now…”

The Chinese went cold, and the bottle of Rosé was emptied. 

He never showed up.

--

I can’t guarantee prompt updates for a little bit. I have some logistics to figure out, but I have a few chapters ready, so I figured I’d start posting! All the chapter titles are songs from my spooky halloween playlist that inspired this fic (and their lyrics will be in the chapters)! You can find that playlist here. The playlist will be updated as the fic goes on.

I hope to post the last chapter on Halloween!

[c-c-cherry]

Bruno's and Abbacchio's reaction to each JoJo? Like if they just met them. (Jotaro, Josuke, etc) I feel like Abbacchio would be annoyed XD

Mmmmmm I’m home once again and reunited with my precious computer. This ask was so fucking cute and I went a bit feral with it but I just forgot how much I love all the previous Jojos :3

(Note, this is only going to include the animated parts because I don’t think I know enough about the manga parts to do them hehe)

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Jonathan

A respectable man. Is the kind of guy that would offer to do the dishes after dinner at someone else’s house. Would probably buy your pets Christmas presents.

You already know he and Bucciarati would get along in a heartbeat. Tea parties? Making tiny sandwiches? Beating people up occasionally? Best warm, fatherly duo on this planet I don’t make the rules except I kinda do

Abbacchio would be different. He can just tell where Giorno inherited his self-righteousness and do-no-wrong personality from and its this guy and he fucking hates it. The man literally GLOWS with righteousness. This is not okay. Jonathan is a good man, but he can only take so much perfection in one household.

Joseph

Himbo king. Not very smart, but he means well. Won’t ever shut up about whatever’s on his mind, but there’s some kind of weird charm to that.

Bruno could care less about intelligence and thinks the man gives good hugs. He’s a very persuasive and warm person and sometimes Bruno just needs to like—sit on the roof and let this big beefy 20-year-old man wrap his scarf around him and tell him that things are gonna be fine. :) Oldseph is nice to him and his kids and shows them weird Hamon magic tricks. What is there to hate?

Leone is annoyed beyond fucking MEASURES because he didn’t think that someone in their 20s could still act like they’re 11. Honestly, he’s a bit jealous that he can never be that childlike again. Surprisingly though, he latches onto him pretty quick because Joseph reminds him of his kids :’) Oldseph is one of the only people who can make him laugh, though. The fact that he’s survived so much bullshit and can still act so witty gives him a shred of hope for his own life.

Jotaro

A man of few words. Is somehow both awkward and confident at the same time. Can’t sit on couches properly because of how tall he is. Isn’t the best at showing his feelings, but he always means well.

It’s almost impossible for Bucciarati to dislike someone, but he just,,,feels threatened whenever Joot is in the room. Maybe it's because he’s a 6′5″ 181 pound man that’s spoken maybe 4 words since he’s entered but he gets this air of intensity whenever he’s around him. He learns later after a few beers that the man is just the most socially awkward and emotionally constipated person on the planet. He wouldn’t say they become friends, but he finds that he doesn’t have to keep his guard up around him anymore.

Abbacchio loves silence. Abbacchio loves Jotaro. The man is like a godsend compared to everyone else in this house. Quiet, reserved, polite, doesn’t take shit from anyone,,,the list goes on. The two of them could sit outside for hours and never feel awkward about it. And the fact that marine life is his entire job keeps the kids occupied enough for him to actually do shit. Jotaro is a winner in his book.

Josuke

Like his father but actually has a filter. A true bro. Daddy issues but who doesn't? Is the definition of wholesome content. Stand looks like bubblegum ice cream. Is baby.

Bruno loves him. He and Giorno bond over healing and he’s literally the sweetest person Bruno’s ever met. Soft boy needs hugs. Soft boy needs parental figure. Soft boy will get both immediately and it WILL be from Bruno. If he knew that Joseph was his dad, you best believe there’d be some mega scolding going on. Long story short, yes yes. Yes.

Leone will hate the kid upon meeting him but then learn some more stuff about him and think “hey, this kid actually isn’t that bad.” At this point Leone’s just like fuck it there’s another kid here and doesn’t think much of it because Josuke isn’t exactly annoying per say, he’s just there. Which is fine as long as Josuke doesn’t become annoying. Which he probably will :)

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

I’m working on ch 3 of my Hypothermia fic as you read this!!! But I think once I wrap that up, I’m gonna take a bit of a part 5 break after all that I’ve written (excluding Communication Breakdown as that’s kind of a constant fic rn) I’m super hyped to be writing more of parts 2, 3, and 4 (and possibly 1??) 

So gimme some prompts for those parts if you have any!! I’ve been meaning to write some more physical whump so I’m not even kidding when I say go fucking off-

[ryik-the-writer]

THE AUDACIOUS STORYBROOKE MIRROR ADVICE COLUMNIST (WEDNESDAY PAPER EDITION) In which Lacey French is a smutty advice columnist for the Storybrooke Mirror.

Ch. 4: Lacey has a conversation with one of her biggest opposers, followed by an interlude with Gold

A03

Wednesday morning came too soon, but Lacey had met the deadline for her column, and she still had a job when she walked into her office.

“Racy Lacey,” Cruella had responded when she sent in the final edit. “When did you become so angelic?”

“Stuff it,” she said to her secondary editor.

Glass’s feedback was mutual.

“Well kid, I admit I had some doubts,” he said just as Lacey was about to scream. “But you pulled it off. We’re getting decent comments on the new column, especially from the higher up.”

“You mean from her majesty,” Lacey spat, despising the woman who got her into this who mess.

“The mayor is pleased, yes,” Glass relayed with a slight warning to his voice.

Lacey ignored it of course, but she didn’t want to talk about that horrid woman any longer.

“What did you think?” she asked, running a finger over a book on his desk.

Glass had the audacity to laugh. “You haven’t asked me that since you were an intern.”

She turned a harsh glare at him and Glass finally put her out of her misery.

“I thought you put a lot of heart into it, and I know it wasn’t easy stepping into something so different from what you’re used to.”

“You’re fucking telling me,” Lacey muttered undetected.

“It’s a heavy subject, I mean good God Lace, did you pick this one to get back at me?”

“Maybe.” Lacey teased.

He let it slide and stood, cueing that there conversation was coming to an end.

“Well you did good, and, well, I’m proud of you kid.”

That was indeed something she hadn’t heard since she was a bright-eyed intern back in high school, and something she hadn’t heard from anyone but him.

Not even from her own father.

“Don’t get mushy on me, Delicate-as-Glass,” she snarked, enjoying the way he bristled from the use of her nickname from him.

“Easy,” he warned, but he more important things to do than lecture his most wild employee on respect.

“Anyway, I think we can start adding one of those with your usual debauchings, and that should keep you in the clear.

It was just as she suspected, but she complained simply to put on a show and then let the matter rest. She’d have to work with Gold some more, which she had no problem with at all.

Though it would seem their attempt at a romantic relationship was going to need some time.

Sunday came around and Lacey hadn’t seen nor heard hide or hair of him since their drink.

As Lacey walked the streets of Storybrooke, an attempt to get her thoughts in order, she but decided she’d visit him that night for more help on her “fluff” article, and maybe some feedback on her smutty one.

Bells rung cleanly through the air as church services let out and Lacey scrunched her nose. The religious zealots in Storybrooke were her biggest haters. It wasn’t uncommon that she’d get some sort of email warning of the damnation of her soul or the obstruction of the town’s youth.

Lacey laughed aloud as she thought of the latter, certain Storybrooke’s youth found their first form of porn in a much more modern way – a fact she often wrote as reply in her emails on the subject.

“Glad to see you’re in good spirits, Miss French.”

Lacey’s grin melted into an annoyed frown at the familiar, very unwelcomed voice.

“Son of a bitch,” she muttered as her most vocal opposer approached: Mother Superior.

The head nun of Storybrooke’s covenant had her finger in the grand pie that was Storybrooke and was quick to take down anything she could pinpoint as “sinful.” Such measures included removing a majority of “inappropriate” books from the town’s school libraries (the public one had been closed for years), mandating separate PE classes at said schools, and worse, writing a religious reminder about the wages sin in Storybrooke’s Sunday paper—Lacey’s fucking territory!

“Morning,” Lacey greeted vilely, glancing over her shoulder. “And…goodbye.” She began to walk away, but was halted by more of the pious nun’s words.

“I was interested to see your choice of column’s this week,” she spoke. “Much more effective than the sinful trash you usually post.”

Lacey swung around on her heal, letting out a fake gasp.

“And here I thought you hated my work,” she gave the nun a plastic smile. “Good to hear you read my columns regularly.”

Mother Superior bristled, already losing her battle with the spicy Lacey French.

“You—you obviously can stop your sinful ways if you give yourself the chance. You could really help people instead of leading them down the path of—”

“I do help people,” Lacey hissed. “Sex, intimacy, closeness, all of those things are important to people, and they come to me for help because unlike you I’m not going to shame them.”

The head nun went quiet and Lacey thought for a moment she’d won this fight and could go about her day in peace, but then a wicked grin spread over Mother Superior’s face and Lacey knew her day was about to get much worse.

“People seek your insight because you’re an easy slut who has whored herself out expertly.”

She said it. The W-word Lacey hated with a passion. The word that was always aimed at her.

She tried to hide the impact it had on her. No one, not even a pillar of the fucking community, was going to get under her skin.

“At least people read my expert advice. From what I seen they shred your little letter of conviction up and donate it to the animal shelter for bedding.”

Mother Superior’s face turned green and her mouth opened again to comment when another familiar figure added their appeal.

“Mother Superior,” Gold greeted darkly. “I do hope since you’ve found time to invade Miss French’s business then you’ve found time to gather the rent for tomorrow.”

The head nun’s expression turned pale. Her mouth failed to work and Lacey found some secret pleasure in her downfall.

“O-of course, Mr. Gold,” she finally replied, giving Lacey one last dirty look before she dashed away to the convent.

Lacey snorted, spinning around to face Gold.

“Thanks cutie pie, but I was handling myself just fine.”

Gold shrugged. “I never miss a moment to remind that gnat of a woman of her place.”

She chuckled at that, though the sting of the nun’s words were still wearing off.

Gold noticed her shift in mood and searched for an out.

“I was…going to call you.”

“But you didn’t.”

“Well neither did you.”

“Ugh,” Lacey groaned. “We wrote a column, not slept together, let’s drop it.”

Gold’s face heated and he went quiet.

Lacey sighed, knowing she’d already made the situation between them more awkward than it already was.

“Look,” she said, “I have a few fluff columns I need to go through. How about I come by your place later and you see what you can do.”

Still flustered, Gold could only nod.

“Great,” Lacey said. “I’ll see you then.”

Gold watched her leave, the clanking of her high heels matching the thumping of his heart.

So far there relationship was a sort of business casual agreement, but there was the “what if” factor floating cleanly over them.

His attraction for her was clear between them, but exactly how she felt was still unknown.

For all he knew she was simply using him, but at least it was for his mind and not for his heart.

He was becoming content with their relationship, but he was a lonely soul who would one day want more. What would happen when he tried to take that step? Would it be the end of them?

Unbeknownst to him, the same thought was on Lacey’s mind.

No one had ever stood up for her like that before, and there was a certain tastefulness watching him snarl at that gnat of a nun.

She’d admit that Gold was attractive in his own way. Lean, a decent stature, nicely grayed out, and those eyes. Damn his eyes. The color of whiskey and just as addictive.

She found herself grinning like a freaking teenager as she thought of her unofficial business partner and her growing attraction for him.

It only occurred to her as she got halfway to her apartment that she had spoken to him completely in the open and felt absolutely no remorse or concern.

 0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

“Okay, how about this one: Racy Lacey, I’m at my wits in with my new boyfriend—oh never mind, this one’s smut-worthy too.”

Gold scoffed. They’d been looking through emails for the past hour. They were almost though a whole bottle of wine, most of which was drunk by Lacey. Gold avoided the alcohol as much as possible less he embarrass himself.

Lacey seemed to be holding her own though, mostly. She was walking barefoot through his living room, pacing back and forth as she read emails off her phone.

It was a lovely site and very distracting.

“Your mind goes straight to the gutter, doesn’t it?” Gold said, his stomach immediately twisting with anxiety.  

It was the first time he’d attempted to joke with her and, judging by the snort that followed, she took it fairly well.

“Well, people write me for one thing,” Lacey shrugged, falling back beside him on the couch. “So the gutter is a good place to go.”

He chortled, grateful her sense of humor ran deep.

Lacey stared at him over the rim of her glass, curious.

“What about you?” she inquired. “Where does yours goes?”

Gold choked a bit on the sip of wine he’d taken. Not embarrassing himself was starting to go out the window, it would seem.

“S-somewhere more innocent than where yours is,” he said, not meeting her eyes. “Shouldn’t we get back to the column?”

Lacey crawled closer until she was mere inches from him. She crossed her legs, leaning one hand on her knee as she watched him grow increasingly nervous.

“Come on, converse with me,”

Gold resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Lacey French was guiltily tipsy in his living room, and getting increasingly bold at that.

“Miss French…”

“For Christ’s sake it’s Lacey,” she slurred. “We’re defiantly on a first-name basis, I mean come on.”

Gold chuckled nervously. Where they really at that stage already?

“I suppose we are. Now the column…”

“Ugh,” Lacey groaned, setting her glass on the floor beside the couch. “All work, no play. What’s the matter, afraid you’ll fall even more in love with me?”

Gold froze. Honestly, he could faint. Lacey was certainly having a field day with the knowledge of his affections from his drunken email earlier last week.  

She wasn’t mocking him, that much he could tell, but he did increasingly wonder the authenticity of her affections towards him, if there were any at all. She’d probably regret her words tomorrow, but he wouldn’t remind her of them if didn’t bring them up.

“It’d certainly be a challenge not to,” he admitted.

Lacey’s smile stretched further, her chest fluttering.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe Lacey simply wanted to explore this oddity she had developed with Gold. Either way, she was about to make a very drastic decision.

“Hey,” she whispered, chuckling. “How about …”

Gold tilted his head, charmed at the rosiness on her cheeks. “Yes?”

She stared into those eyes, their color so tantalizing and bright.

“…kiss me.”

Gold’s smirk slowly disappeared, his chest seizing.

“I…I beg your pardon?”

“K-I-S-S,” Lacey repeated with a smack of her lips. “me.”

Gold could only stared at the scarlet-faced goddess in front of him, the color of her face making the blue of her eyes stand out all the more.

He did want to kiss her—Gods knows he did—but was this the right time?

Lacey seemed to think so as she leaned forward, expecting his lips. In retaliation, he leaned back, trying to put as much distance between them as possible.

Lacey caught on quickly, pausing when she saw the uncertainty on Gold’s face.

“Yikes, sorry,” she muttered. “You’re not going to catch anything, damn.”

Gold was taken aback by the sudden malice in her tone and, he saw, the flicker of shame in her icy blues.

“What? Lacey what are you talking about?”

Lacey stared glassily at her bare feet, shrugging nonchalantly.

“You said ‘who knows what I have’ during our fight, remember?”

With flaming discomfort, he recalled exactly what she was talking about.

It had been a flare up, a way to push her out as he recovered from his embarrassment, to keep her at arms-length, he previously convinced himself.

The reason was pointless. He’d insulted Lacey, humiliated her really.

It didn’t take a vivid imagination to know that her early conversation with Mother Superior was only a sample what she went through daily. And he’d was no different than the fools in town who jumped to conclusions about virtue.

Her head was still bent, one of her fingers circling a patch of leather on the couch. Gold felt sick that he had made her feel any level of guilt when she shouldn’t at all.

“Lacey,” he said quietly. “I am so sorry. I was foolish. I didn’t mean what I said. I shouldn’t have said it.”  

Lacey shrugged, uncrossing her legs and made her way to the window.

“It doesn’t matter.” She replied, the phrase her constant companion whenever she was compared to someone with such loose morals.

Lacey was as sex positive as they came and encouraged many of her readers to be comfortable and experimental  with their sexuality, but her own experience came from a vivid imagination. Her own standards were extremely high, and her partners very few.

Of course, that didn’t stop the many she turned down from spreading callous rumors about her when she refused their beds, and of course being a sex columnist didn’t lend an the most positive opinion.

She’d learned to deal with the snarls and the crude comments whispered behind her back. She’d eye her opposers down just as damningly as they did her and came out triumph.

Still, the isolation didn’t stop the wave of loneliness that hit her from time to time.

“It does too matter,” Gold fought. “You don’t deserve what I said to you Lacey, what anyone says to you at that!”

“I’m used to it—”

“You shouldn’t be,” Gold cut her off. “You are a beautiful, intelligent person Lacey. And you do something every day that not many people have the ability to.”

Lacey snorted but smiled none the less.

“You’re so brave to do it,” Gold said, his eyes lowering. “Braver than I am.”

Lacey eyed him, cocking her head mischievously.

“I think you’re pretty brave,” she said. “Not too many people have the gall to have Racy Lacey in their house, especially with such nosy neighbors.”

“Damn the neighbors,” he said.

She scooted closer, her breath warm and acidic on his lips.

“I think you’re pretty handsome too,” she smirked.

Gold scoffed. His looks were the last thing he’d credit himself over.

“I’m serious,” Lacey said, her painted nails trailing up his neck. “Especially your hair…”

Gold accepted her touch with earnest, his predatory eyes fluttering shut as he pressed into her hand.

She watched him, a man starved for human affection. Just like her.

She carefully leaned forward, letting her lips brush against his, testing his consent. When he didn’t pull away, she strengthened the kiss, pressing her lip solidly into his as her hands tangled in his locks.

Gold returned it, lost in her taste and desperate for her touch.

They separated for air, Lacey’s hand have gripped the collar of his shirt.

“Hey,” she husked. “What if we…”

He was no fool to not know what she wanted.

He had wanted to protect, but found out she didn’t need protection, not from the town at least.

His own heart was damaged, and Lacey had begun to fix the chips and dents.

He was still hesitant, still ashamed by his behavior toward her earlier, but Lacey was pawing at his shirt and he could think of nothing else but her.

He kissed her again, his hand feeling down her hip.

Lacey was quite receptive. She uncrossed her legs and crawled into his lap, pushing him against the arm of the couch.

He captured her face with one hand while he explored her body with the other. His hands came up to her top, stopping for her permission. Her hands met his and she all but ripped off her shirt, her nipple standing at full attention through her silk bra.

Gold’s hands ran up her back, grazing her breasts and gliding over her stomach, her side, down her thigh and under the fabric of her jeans.

She clung to his shoulders as she let her tongue dance with his. Wetness was already pooling between her legs. This was escalating quickly and yet she had no intention of holding back.

He swallowed when his erection pressed against her thigh. She desired him and she needed him. Now.

With more skill than he could have imagined she managed to get her jeans off in a messy tangle, laughing as he helped her.

His fingers graced against the fabric of her panties, applying just the right kind of pressure to her clit.

“Gold,” she keened, attacking his belt and leaning off of him just enough to help pull his boxers down.

She felt his hard erection twitch, pressing against her flesh, his warmth radiating.

She kissed him again. He groaned and bucked his hips against her. She moved her hands between their bodies to free his throbbing erection from his pants. He groaned when she wrapped her hands around his cock. She wanted to taste him. She wanted him to fuck her. She wanted to bring him pleasure and see it written all over his face.

He trembled a little, grateful she had no qualms with being in charge.

“You are so sexy,” he groaned as she grabbed his cock with one hand and fighting between moving her panties aside and steadying herself with the other. Feeling how good he felt when he finally slipped inside her made all annoyance she felt slip away.

They both sighed and she captured both his hands, pulling them up and behind his head. She entwined her fingers with his and pressed his hands against the couch as she bend forward to kiss him.

She rode him hard, licking, nibbling, sucking at this mouth while she did so. He was hers and she wouldn’t allow him to run off again. He came before she could reach her climax, but feeling his hot seed spilling inside of her brought her over the edge again.

She collapsed on top of him, releasing his hands to play with his hair. And they just breathed together.

Then she started laughing, a throaty ring that made his heart pound.

“Well, Goldie Locks,” murmured as she played with his curls. “I think I have my inspiration for my next column.”

He chuckled and held her ease down so that she was lying on top of him.

“Such a shame you still have to write the tame one, you’re deadline is tomorrow morning, yes?”

Lacey groaned and buried her head in his chest. He kissed her curls in reply.

He was indeed going to enjoy this new relationship with Lacey French.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

I’ve been trying to get these two to bang for over a month now, so boom, they banged. I can’t write a smut scene to save my life.

[imagine-that-one-thing]

Her Majesty || Chapter 14

                      No Weddings and Two Funerals.

                                          Two Weeks Later.

                                                   Funeral

“What’s happened?” Matthew immediately questions with furrowed brows as I shuffle out of Anna’s room. Everyone stares at me with bewildered eyes, unaware of what has transpired. I bite down on my tongue and compose myself for a minute, clearing my throat as I take a breath. It is nobody’s business what happens behind closed doors between her and me. As far as anyone’s concerned, she had issues with the security plan this morning. “She needs a minute, come back in five,” I glance towards the ladies who are holding Anastasia’s dress and dress coat. “Trust me, you’re going to want to give her a minute.” I half-smile, trying not to sound like a prick, but I don’t think they want to get yelled at in the same manner I did. Anna is not in any state to deal with anyone or anything at this exact moment. She needs a few minutes to calm down, breathe and compose herself, perhaps a few minutes to throw things and get her emotions out. I couldn’t imagine being in her position and having to deal with what today will hold. I understand today is a day that nobody wants to go through, nobody wants to say goodbye to a parent one last time. As much as I understand her need to let it all out and take it out on me, it doesn’t make it easy on myself when I have a short fuse with one-hundred different things I need to do for the day. Without sounding selfish, adding a spiralling Anna to my list of issues is not what I need right now when the palace safety is my top priority.

“Oliver, guard the door and don’t lose the Princess,” Matthew instructs while I storm off.

I march down the hallway and stop at one of the doors before I open it with ease and without much thought. I am on a mission, I know what I am in search of. A lady’s maid turns to glance at me as she is cleaning the room. I provide her with a meagre smile before I exercise to the tea cart that is set up in the room, “Nevermind me,” I comment, taking a glass and pouring myself a bottle of whatever unlabeled whiskey is in the decanter.

“Sir, that was for the guest.” Her voice is low and timid.

I nod my head, “Trust me, I need it more, excuse me,” I mutter, taking the glass with me and stepping out of the room.

Matthew stares at me and shakes his head, “It’s nine in the fucking morning, Harry, you’re still on the job.”

I heavily sigh and hand him the glass, “Take a drink, you’re going to need it.”

Matthew glares at me for a moment before taking the glass, “You’re going to be the fucking death of me, Harry,” Matthew mutters under his breath, taking a swift drink of the stiff whiskey, “What happened in there?”

“Mate, I have no clue, I was told to fuck off and got my ass chewed out, I have no clue what I did,” I respond, bustling down the stairs.

As I reach the middle of the stairs, I observe a woman with lavish, moon gleam-gold hair pulled in an old school style, loose bun, black glasses covering her eyes, and three rows of pearls hanging around her neck, complimenting the all-black dress she has on at the bottom. I raise a brow for a moment while I watch as she clasps her black glove covered hands on the handle of one of the suitcases surrounding her. “What does one have to do to get some help around here,” The unknown woman questions, striking a nerve as she glances over at me.

“And who the fuck are you?” I bitterly question the moment I reach the bottom of the stairs. I am not in the mood to deal with anyone who isn’t meant to be in the Palace nor am I in the mood to deal with anyone who believes they are entitled. I do not deal with entitlement.

“Huh, someone’s in a bad mood. Do you not know who I am?”

“No... How did you even get in? Where’s security when you need ‘em?” I groan, irritated that the security team has let some random woman into the Palace on a day such as today. Matthew really needs to work on our team, they too are starting to piss me off. Perhaps my first order as reigning King should be to reevaluate the security team and find new members. It appears Matthew, Oliver and I are the only ones who are suitable for the damn job.

The woman chuckles and places her sunglasses on her head, revealing her eyes, “Darling, don’t worry, I know who you are, Harry.”

“Well, this is not breakfast at Tiffany’s, so Ms Hepburn, the door.” I gesture towards the door she presumably entered from. I still have no clue on who she is, but she looks very similar to Audrey Hepburn but doesn’t have the soft voice and grace of Audrey, this woman is more daring, bold and outspoken.

She’s the class of woman that could plausibly rip someone to shreds with a mere feather and look absolutely innocent, charming and sweet as she does it— she’d show no remorse.

“I am the princess of Denmark, I believe it is still polite to curtsey.” The woman smiles, gesturing for me to bow and show respect.

“And I am—” I begin but I am promptly cut off.

“Delighted to have you,” Matthew speaks for me. “Aren’t you, Harry?”

I was not about to tell her I am delighted to have her; I was going to hold rank and be an asshole but I must not. “Harry, this is Madeleine Noelle Veil of Denmark.”

“The name sounds familiar…” I trail off, “Oh, god, you’re Madeleine,” I sigh, realising who the woman who stands in front of me is.

Madeleine nods her head, “Ah, we do have signs of life in that forehead,” Madeleine remarks. “Charmed, I’m sure,” Madeleine adds to her insult, somewhat mocking me further. I can tell this woman is going to keep me on my toes until her departure, and I already hope that it is promptly.

“Madeleine is one of Anastasia dearest friends,” Matthew informs me, “Madeleine, Anna is upstairs.”

“Harry, will you be a dear and carry my bags?” Madeleine asks.

“I’d be delighted, Madeleine,” I respond, faking a smile as I realise I have no choice but to be gracious to this woman.

Madeleine hums, “You may address me as Princess Madeleine Noelle Veil of Denmark.”

“Well, Princess Madeleine Noelle Veil, I am sorry to inform you, I can only carry one bag, you may carry the other,” I delicately roll one of her suitcases towards her while I pick up the other.

She stops the suitcase with her hand, “You forgot the ‘of Denmark’,”

“Sorry, Princess Madeleine Noelle Veil of Denmark,” I correct myself, “You May carry this suitcase up the stairs,” I felicitously smile.

I carry the suitcase up the stairs and Matthew brings the other, doing his best not to huff and puff about the weight of the suitcases— it’s as though the woman has packed for weeks— I sure do hope she isn’t staying here for weeks, I might lose it.

I place the suitcase at Anastasia’s bedroom door, “I am sure there will be a guest room for you soon and your bags will be placed in there.”

“Thank you, Harry.”

“You May call me Mr Styles,” I respond, “Good luck in there,” I gesture towards the door that is the only thing between a raging Anastasia and her long lost friend.

Madeleine stares at me with a smile, “I don’t need luck, Mr Styles,” she winks and takes a leap of faith by opening Anna’s bedroom door and striding in.

♛♛♛

I have spent the morning operating around the Palace, doing my best to keep everything in line and making sure that the security team knows precisely how to handle each hour of the day— there is no room for mistakes. Matthew has been taking care of the Queen’s service, doing his best to make sure order is in place with her as well. Today is not like all the other events that I have had to manage or work— this is wholly different from a royal ball or a tea held by the Queen— this is something significant where I have to also worry about the citizens. Today, we are not dealing with a few hundred, no. We are dealing with over two thousand attending the funeral, millions watching it on television and thousands in the streets. There is no room for error.

The funeral cortege is being prepared outside the Palace, they are doing it old school today— as the King would have wanted. Instead of the procession being led by the hearse, with the family and following behind in, the family is walking behind the coffin. I am not surprised by the means of transportation and the old ways, the King always appreciated doing things traditionally. The cortege will start shortly outside the Palace where tens of thousands of flowers have been laid; I have never seen so many flowers before in my life, it’s a sea of blossoms out there and I am in awe at how the public is mourning the death. I am not sure what I had expected, but it wasn’t this. I didn’t anticipate the impact to be this extreme. Anastasia does not know this, but the public has been lining up outside since four this morning.

When I woke up to start monitoring the systems, I was amazed to observe people already lighting candles and paying their respects, ever so peacefully.

I shift the heavy curtain towards the window, stepping away from the overwhelming crowd that is out the front, I turn on my heel and see Oliver standing in front of me waiting for instructions on what to do. I stare at him for a moment and cock my head to the side before taking a sip of my coffee.

Oliver raises a brow and clears his throat, “Why are you staring?”

I don’t respond, instead, I continue to glance at him, attempting to pinpoint what it is that doesn’t seem right about him, “You don’t look right.”

“Excuse me, sir?”

“Your attire, what’s missing?” I question, eyeing every inch of his suit, “Oliver, do you have your gun?”

Oliver nods his head, “Yes, sir.”

“Fix your tie,” I instruct, “If I see your tie loose again I will do what Matthew did to me and tie your hands behind your back for an hour and make you walk up and down the halls,” I threaten Oliver, “I don’t care if your tie is loose when we are just walking the Palace, but for events, it needs to be well done.”

Oliver nods his head, his hands swift to adjusting his tie, “I trust you know what to do today? Do you have any questions?”

“Whose service am I on? I was never told.”

“We will be watching everyone, this is a time to always keep our eyes open and to observe the crowd and surroundings.” I begin to explain to Oliver that today isn’t about being on a specific service, as a whole, we are to look after everybody. “If we are forced into a protocol, you take Anastasia, Matthew takes the Queen, and I take Madeleine.” I remind Oliver of the protocol Matthew and the Queen has put into place.

I am not too thrilled about not being on Anastasia’s service if something happens but this is the plan the Queen has asked for. I have no choice but to comply for now. As Oliver nods his head, my phone rings in my pocket.

I reach my hand into my pants pocket and slide my finger across the screen. “Harry Styles,” I answer the call from one of the Palace numbers…

“We are aware who we are calling, Harry,” Madeleine’s voice echoes through the phone and I sense my body tense up at the vibration of her voice. It isn’t that I hate her by any means, it’s more so her tone and sass that irks my nerves. It is evident she is going to be a pest, it makes me wonder how she and Anastasia are such close friends, they seem as though they are polar opposites.

“What do I owe the pleasure, Madeleine?”

“Full name, Mr. Styles.” … “I’ll let it slide, I don’t have time for this. Anastasia is requesting you, we have ten minutes until we need to be out that door and, to be honest, I don’t think I will be able to get her out the door. I have gotten this far, you need to come up here.”

I heavily sigh and roll my eyes at her comment, “I will be right up,” I hang up the phone. “You, stay down here and start rounding everyone up. By the time I get back down here, everybody needs to be in a line,” I instruct Oliver before making my way to the staircase and relaying the message through my radio that all security personal need to be lined up and by the doors, pronto.

I hurry up the stairs and make my way down the lengthy hallway, passing staff and other security members, doing my best to keep a steady pace without running.

I reach the doors of the bedroom and Madeleine is already standing outside of them with her arms crossed. I raise a brow, expecting some sort of snarky comment.

“She is requesting you, she was fine until she wasn’t,” Madeleine softly informs me.

“You had one job,” I respond, stepping past her.

I walk into Anna’s room and close the door behind me. I take a breath and there Anna stands in front of her jewellery, her hands pressed the edge of the glass vault and her hair cascading down her back in the most elegant curls that have taken hours to perfect. “Anastasia,” her name falls from my lips softly and she turns to gaze at me.

She looks beautiful, as always. And as beautiful as she looks, I can see the sadness in her eyes and the quiver of her lip that breaks my heart. “I’m sorry for—“ Anastasia begins and I swiftly cut her off, placing a delicate kiss to her lips.

I know she is sorry, I know she didn’t mean to go off on me earlier, she doesn’t need to apologize for how she felt when she was overwhelmed, today is a day that nobody wants to ever go through. Nobody wants to have to lay one of their parents to rest. “I know,” I assure her, my hand brushing her hair away from her face before I kiss her cheek lightly.

“Will you…” Anastasia trails off, trying to catch her breath and not cry, “Will you—“ she can barely find words to escape her lips. She closes her eyes for a moment and holds back tears that she has presumably been holding back since she was forced to get dressed earlier.

“Take a deep breath, we have time,” I assure Anna, unsure of how to comfort her right in this instance, I don’t want to smother her or cause her to get angry again.

Anastasia takes a few deep breaths and opens her eyes, “I need a necklace,” Anastasia’s voice is unsteady like the shaking of her hands. I nod my head and she turns to face her glass box, I step closer and press my hand the small of her back, drawing small circles in a loving way as we both look down at the necklaces to choose from.

“Which one do you like?”

Anastasia shrugs her shoulders, an indication she wants me to choose for her. I take a moment to take in each beautiful piece that lies in front of me. My eyes cast themselves on a triple strand necklace that has rows of graduated stones, suspended between two diamond triangles. I know she hates wearing pearls so three rows of diamonds should be perfect.

I delicately pick up the necklace with my hand, holding my breath as I bring it closer— holding royal heirlooms makes me nervous. I step behind Anastasia and gingerly place the necklace over her head and to rest charmingly around her neck. I carefully clasp the necklace together before tapping Anna’s back to let her know the necklace is secure.

She turns around to face me, her hand reaching to touch the diamonds before she takes a deep breath and grants me a small smile of gratitude. I step away from Anastasia and make my way to where her coat is hanging, I take the heavy coat off the coat hanger and walk back towards Anastasia. She glances at me and then at the coat before looking at me again. I assist her with sliding the coat up her arms and bringing it around her front before I pull her hair out from under the coat, “We have time, darling,” I again reassure her, well aware of her eyes that are threatening to fall with tears yet again. I’m not sure how she’s keeping herself together, I’d be a mess if I was her. I’m even more unsure of how they expect her to speak to the public that has been lining outside the Palace for hours and is currently waiting for her.

“I uh… I..” Anastasia begins but shakes her head.

“Sit down,” I instruct, guiding her to sit on the edge of the bed. “Is it the people outside?” I question, wanting to attempt to ease the situation, but I can’t if I don’t know where to start.

“I don’t want to… I can’t… I can’t talk to them,” Anastasia breathes out. “But I have to… They’re waiting.”

I grow quiet for a moment, thinking of what I can do to help her out and calm her down. It’s not fair that on the day of her fathers funeral she is making speeches or addressing the public, she can barely find the words to speak to me, I don’t think she should be forced to speak as the future Queen. “I’ll sort it out, you won’t be speaking to them.”

“How?”

“Just let me handle it… Do you want a few minutes alone?”

Anastasia shakes her head, “You’re not going to be near me today, I want a few minutes with you.” Anastasia responds, finally speaking a full sentence.

I silently sit down beside Anastasia and allow our soft breaths to fill the silence. I am not sure what I can do or say to make her feel better, at this point, I don’t think anything will make her feel better besides just being here for her, nothing I say will change things. I can’t bring back her father and I can’t say for certain just how the events transpired or who killed the King, specifically, but I can support Anastasia, even if it means to sit in silence beside her.

♛♛♛

After giving Anastasia some time to sit in silence with me, I managed to get her out of her room and down the stairs to where we stand, right now, in front of the doors to the outside world.

“Harry,” Anastasia breaks the silence and I hum, waiting for her to speak, “Will you walk with me?” Anastasia asks while everybody is getting ready to step outside the doors and greet the public.

“Where to?” I ask, “We are about to exit.”

Anastasia shakes her head, “I mean… the cortege, will you walk with me?”

“We are walking behind you,” I inform Anastasia, gesturing towards the team who are currently being put in line by Matthew and prepped one last time.

“No… I want you to walk with me, not behind me, please.” Anastasia softly informs me, looking down, almost as if she is nervous to ask such a simple request.

It takes me a moment to understand what it is she is asking… She doesn’t want me to walk behind her as the security guard, she wants me to walk beside her as her husband. Before I can respond, Anastasia’s attention is taken by her mother who hands Anna gloves for her hands, just as Matthew taps my shoulder, an indication that I need to step back because the doors are about to open. I shake my head at Matthew and I step beside Anna as she requested.

The Queen looks at me and gives me a small smile of approval before shaking her head, “I don’t think this is such a good idea.”

“The cortege? Me neither.” Anastasia mutters.

“You two can’t be on display, at least not yet, we haven’t announced it and it isn’t propper right now.”

“Now we want to discuss proper etiquette?” Anastasia sneers, “Nobody will know, he will walk beside me, if it makes you feel better, we won’t even hold hands.”

“Harry, the Queen is right, the media coverage will be focused on her,” Matthew softly inputs his opinion, “But, your majesty, if I may, I don’t think it would be such bad attention for Harry to walk with her. We can divert the stories later and say it was just protocol…”

Matthew takes me by surprise when he advocates that he approves of Anastasia and I to walk.

I had assumed he would be displeased and expect me to get in line like the other security personal.

The Queen helps Anastasia with her gloves and runs her hand over Anastasia’s wedding finger, “Where is your ring?”

“Harry has my rings,” Anastasia softly informs her mother. “God forbid anyone sees them,” Anastasia mutters unhappily, “The staff were noticing my necklace.”

“Walk beside her, try not to show signs of a relationship… but if you do.. oh well,” The Queen sighs before shrugging, “You’ve already played the monarchy, you may as well play the people,” she whispers before winking at the two of us.

I’m not quite sure when the Queen will give us the permission to have our relationship public, at least to the staff, but something tells me she’s getting closer and closer to her breaking point.

“Hm, maybe you’re not such a bad guy after all,” Madeleine takes my attention for a brief moment.

I glare at her, “Meaning?”

Madeleine smirks and ignores my comment before the doors open and for a brief moment, everything stops.

Anastasia POV

I take a deep breath as Harry takes my necklace off of me and moves towards placing it back in its glass case to put back in safekeeping. I lean against the wall, my eyes dropping to the hem of my black dress— a dress I’ll never want to wear or look at again— a dress I intend to donate to charity so I never have to wear it again. I don’t want to ever relive the moments of what today bought.

“Harry?” I gaze over towards him. Harry hums, closing the glass case and reaching for my coat that he was holding for me as we entered the palace. “Can you tell me there’s an explanation for everything?”

Harry places my coat on a hanger and hangs it up on the wrack the ladies in waiting will roll out when they come up here, “What do you mean?” Harry softly asks.

“Can you tell me that there’s some sort of secret plan devised? That my Dad isn’t really dead, you and Matthew were in on a plan where he had to fake his death? Perhaps even that he was wounded but he escaped the hospital and you guys had to cover it all up? Something? Anything?” I softly request, believing that he has some sort of explanation for my father’s death that he hasn’t told me yet. At this point, I’ll take anything, even if it means my father is off in another country tucked away.

Harry stares at me for a few moments, shrugging his suit jacket off and loosening his tie, “Anna, darling,” Harry begins but he pauses, sitting himself down in a chair against the window, his hands running through his hair before he peers up at me. “I’d love nothing more than to tell you this was a grand plan Matthew and I came up with to save your father from the corruption and the monarch, but that isn’t the case.” … “Darling, I will find who did this.” Harry informs me.

It was wishful thinking to hope that there was a mysterious plan I wasn’t aware of and that my father was living somewhere undercover. “We need to get ready for dinner.” I switch the subject, not desiring to dive further into the feelings and emotions that have been swirling my thoughts since the moment I received the call.

“We?” Harry questions, “I’ve been up since three-thirty, Matthew has relieved me. I’m going to sleep.”

“It’s a private dinner, I’d like for you to attend.”

“Mmm, okay,” Harry nods, leaning back in the chair, “I just need a few minutes.” Harry sighs, closing his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest. I know that sigh and by the way his arms are crossed over his chest, he has no desire to get back up. He desires to sleep and stay asleep until he can gain the energy to crawl to bed and stay there.

“The security system is flawed, no offence.” I break the quietness between us, my thoughts failing to cease my predicaments and emotions.

“Where is this going, Anna?” Harry immediately challenges, not too pleased with my commentary nor the fact he can’t get a few minutes of peace.

If I can’t have peace, neither can he.

As selfish as it sounds, I don’t want the quietness, I don’t want to rest here with my thoughts and emotions while he sleeps harmoniously. I’m not entirely sure what I want, but I know it isn’t silence.

“How can the king be brutally murdered if he’s meant to have security? You and Matthew were one of the last people to see him.”

“Are you trying to say I had something to do with it?”

“No… I’m saying, he’s meant to have the highest of security… where were they?”

Harry opens his eyes and lets out a breath, “I don’t want to have this conversation.” I don’t blame him, I’m sure this is a troublesome conversation for him as well. It sounds like security failed him.

“And I really didn’t want to attend my fathers funeral, but here I am.” I gesture to the space between us.

I know the events are far from Harry’s fault. Deep down, I know he did his job the way he was meant to, as did Matthew, but that doesn’t make things any easier. Coming to terms with what has transpired is proving to be more arduous than I ever imagined.

“Everyone was told to stand down, Anastasia.” Harry breathes out.

Stand down? I don’t understand how everyone was told to stand down. The whole purpose of a security team is to ensure the safety of the King. “What?” The word falls from my lips coldly.

“All security personnel were scattered between your mother and you. Your father decided that he’d rather be compromised than for you or your mother to be in danger, you and your mother were and still are at high risk…”

“So, why did you go to visit him? You killed off one of the men and somehow my father still dies.” My words are harsh, but I can’t make sense of the decisions that took place before my Father passed.

“We did our job. We kept the King safe and we kept you and your mother safe, the man who was making threats, he was one of the ones on the boat. We had reason to believe he was the mastermind and most threatening, we were wrong… there’s someone else out there.”

“Why did nobody stay with him?” I ask again, unable to comprehend that with such a high-security team, my father still managed to be horribly murdered.

“As I said, everyone was disbanded. I attempted to stay, he refused and I knew I needed to get back to you. We did everything we could and respected your father’s decisions with forcing us to care for you and your mother. I’m sorry, Anna, I am. But I promise I’m going to find who did this.”

“How? How are you going to do that?” I demand, unsure of how he can execute such a promise. He is part of my security team not a member of the investigating team, he is not a private investigator.

“Don’t worry about how… can we please drop this conversation?”

“Fine, are you going to abolish the monarchy?” I press.

“No, I’m going to take a nap, are you going to join me?” Harry proposes, standing to his feet and making his way to the bed, falling on it and growing comfortable, not minding that he’s still in his suit or his shoes.

I go to speak but I’m halted at the vibration of a knock at the door, “You have to be fucking kidding me,” Harry mutters, “Do I need to go to my apartment to fucking sleep?” Harry huffs.

“You have your own room at the palace, why don’t you try that?” I sneeringly respond and Harry glares at me before I open the door imperceptibly, just enough for the lady’s maid to perceive me but not Harry.

“Do you need my assistance with getting ready for dinner, Princess?”

I shake my head, “No, thank you. Once I take this dress off, I’d like you to dispose of it. Donate it, sell it, burn it, I don’t care. I don't want to ever see it again.”

The lady nods, “As you wish. Would you like Eleanor to come back up?”

“In an hour.” I nod my head, deciding my main lady in waiting can assist me. It isn’t that I necessitate the guidance, I just considerably like the company of Eleanor. “I’d like for you to tell Estelle, my assistant, that she can go ahead and send all the signed letters I have done…” I dismiss the lady and watch her exercise off before I close the door and turn around.

“What letters?” Harry instantly asks.

“The ones I responded to this morning when I couldn’t sleep and didn’t want to deal with the funeral.”

“Have you received any letters?”

“Not that I have read,” I shake my head, “Nothing that I know of like the letters you were getting that you tried to keep from me.”

Harry hums and adjusts his arm under his pillow, leaving me with my thoughts while he falls asleep.

Harrys POV

I remain at the dinner table, feeling out of place and unwelcomed as the Queen has me sitting beside Anna and other staff members placing food on my plate. I do not feel as though they should be placing food on my plate or making sure my drink is filled at all times, I am still one of them. I do not desire nor need special treatment for any reasons. To cover up the fact I am attending dinner, Anna’s mother made it known to the staff that the dinner is private and open to Matthew and me as a thank you for all we have done today.

Today has been a day that nobody will forget, the amount of flowers I have perceived and carried on behalf of Anna is outrageous, not to mention the extensive walk we had to make instead of taking a carriage. The day has been a rollercoaster that nobody has wanted to be on, emotions have been all over the place, and Anna has been all over the place. I am surprised we have gotten through dinner without her sobbing. It has been an obstinate line between being a husband and security, a line that I am weary of having to draw and hide. It broke my heart to have to watch her mourn the loss of her father and not be able to comfort her. I could not wrap my arms around her and hold her, I couldn’t take away her pain or do anything beside stand behind her and keep her safe— the best I could do was caress my hand to the small of her back every now and again and manage to subtly whisper an ‘I love you.’

I was bitter that due to circumstances, I couldn’t be there for Anastasia when she needed it, I couldn’t offer any sort of comfort to her or her mother, I couldn’t contribute anything but their safety. I will never forget the glimpse in her eyes when she turned to glance at me for a brief moment, completely heartbroken and somber. It was in that moment where she looked entirely defeated and empty… There was no sort of light in her eyes, nothing but emptiness that can’t be explained.

I pull myself from my thoughts and attempt to focus on the small conversation taking place. Anna’s mother is chatting about some of the minor renovations occurring in the residence Anna and I will be moving into. As far as I know, Anna’s mother insisted on having the living quarters updated for the two of us. I’m not sure what the updates entail, but as long as it’s more than just a room and a bathroom, I’ll be fine. I’ll be even happier when I don’t have to hide things or when I can keep clothes visibly in her room.

I take a breath and grimace slightly at the stabbing pain beginning in my shoulder. It has been coming and going and progressively getting longer and a bit more painful as time goes on. I clear my throat and ignore it, giving Anna’s mother a soft and faked smile as she seems to pay me some attention. I hope she didn’t notice my issue with abrupt discomfort.

“Looks like dinner just got interesting,” Matthew mutters and I side-eye Matthew. I follow his gaze and witness Henry walking in with a security member behind him, accompanied by Oliver.

“He’s here for you, Mr Styles,” Oliver announces, catching me off guard.

I nod my head, dismissing them both before glancing towards my mother-in-law, “Excuse me,” I politely stand up and adjust my jacket before I step to Henry and Oliver.

“Harry, we need to talk.” Henry is swift to demand my attention.

“I’m busy right now, so whatever shit you have done, can wait,” I mutter under my breath, attempting to keep our conversation private. Henry is never the bearer of great news, he is continuously screwing up my plans or causing havoc that I have to fix. I don’t have the energy to fix anything right now.

“I’ve been invited to dinner but I need to talk to you, it is important.”

“Sit down and eat dinner, but I swear if you touch Anastasia or look at her the wrong way, I will escort you outside and—” I begin and Henry cuts me off.

“I am not here to start problems, I want to talk to you,” Henry assures me, for the first time since I have met him appearing sincere. I nod my head and we step back towards the table and I take my position beside Anastasia for a moment.

I benevolently caress my hand to Anastasia’s leg and discreetly move to whisper in her ear, “I will be back, give me a moment,” I discreetly kiss her cheek while no staff is around before politely excusing myself from the table again, gesturing for Henry to follow me.

Henry is expeditious to follow my lead, trailing me like a lost puppy. The moment we get away from the table, Henry begins to speak, “You need to listen to me, Parliament is in on things, including Pippa.”

“Henry, you’re being ridiculous,” I shake my head with a hefty sigh.

“You need to hear me out, the prime minister is a part of it.”

“Henry, shut the fuck up for a second,” I murmur, not wanting this discussion to go any further while in the dining hall.

These sort of conversations, no matter how ludicrous, do not need to happen when there are guests around, especially a mere few hours after we have put the King to rest. I walk out of the dining hall and I signal to Henry to hush as the minute I see his mouth open, “Not now, wait,” I instruct, closing the golden handle and walking down the hallway to the closest bathroom.

I shove the door open and gesture for him to enter before I close the door behind us. “Don’t open your mouth,” I instruct again, my hand reaching for the faucet and turning the water on.

I watch the chilled water run and splash the sink before I glance at Henry, “First of all, you have three minutes once I am done talking, second of all, you never reveal information at a table or when people are in the room, are you wanting to end up like your mother?”

“It’s not like Anastasia is going to rat me out to anyone.”

“No, but that isn’t the point, there is a time and a place, the dinner table isn’t a place.” I remind Henry of minor etiquette that he should already comprehend. I shouldn’t have to remind him of the circumstances of today either. No discussion around Anna is deemed appropriate unless it is anything that can make her smile. Government and royal issues is not a topic of conversation that needs to be discussed today around Anna.

“Look, just listen to me… I think there are more people involved in things than we think, George is one of the men in on things, he has to be.”

“In on what?” I request.

“The King’s death.” Henry bluntly responds.

“And you’re not in on it? You literally tried to marry Anastasia and got mad at the race track, then you spooked her horse and got Anna hurt…. I won’t even mention the fact your mother turned out to be pure evil and was ready to kill someone in the palace before she somehow ended up dead… You and your mother could have conspired everything and you could just be finishing off the plan.`` I remind Henry of the past events that have occurred due to his negligent family who seem to be unethical and evil.

“Fair,” Henry shrugs his shoulders, “But not true, I am not in on it. I was forced into the relationship with Anna, I was forced to throw the fit and make headlines, just like I was forced to get the horse back— that was all my mother, she insisted on making sure I got a higher title and…” Henry trails off, not finishing his sentence before looking down in defeat.

For a moment, I feel bad for him, he seems confined in this circus ring without an escape.

“And she needed money, correct?”

“How did you know?” Henry challenges, staring at me with a heavy sigh leaving his lips. He really is defeated.

“I am good at my job, Henry… Before you and your mother killed the king… actually… the night you guys tried to get us all killed in Greece, the king told me a few things, as did someone else. Your family aren’t as wealthy as they seem. They were blackmailing the King, apparently they saved the Queen’s life at some point, I didn’t get the full story but I got the gist of it.”

“I didn’t kill the king, I had nothing to do with it. I was told that even if I didn’t marry Anna that once the king died I would become King, I would claim a title and my family’s wealth would change. I swear I didn’t kill the King…. I was forced into my mother’s plans. Now listen, Pippa and a few others did, I don’t know why, but it had to be them, look into it, please.”

“I will look into it but I think that is the most absurd thing I have heard all day.”

“Well, it might sound absurd but it’s true, I have had enough time to think about things while hiding from you.” Henry crosses his arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes on me as he makes it a point to make it known he has been hiding from me.

I lift my shoulders into a shrug and let out a small chuckle, “Why hide from me? Not like I will kill you,” I sarcastically and innocently respond.

“You had me followed, I am surprised you didn’t kill me. You did pull a gun on me that one day.”

“Eh,” I shrug, “Crossed my mind a few times but I figured you were not a threat until further notice. Now, what else do you know about your mother and her death, what was her deal with Louis? Why frame him?”

“I don’t know, I assume the corrupt parliament members got her too. I think Louis was just caught in the crossfire and was the easy target. Mum took his kindness for weakness and it somewhat worked.” Henry responds.

“I liked it better when you were quiet in the cottage outside of London. Why must you complicate things?” I heavily sigh, irritated that Henry couldn’t just stay quiet. “What do you know about your mother’s death?” I immediately request, unsure of how much he knows.

“Besides you moved her body... not much.”

“How do you know that?” I examine, well aware that the media didn’t publish that her body had been moved, they announced where she was found.

“Same way I know about the man Matthew killed who had threatened Anna. I followed leads and hoped you wouldn’t kill me.”

“Starting to wonder whether I should, you know too much information.” I can only assume he has followed me closely, I thought I had seen him a few times but brushed it off. I have had bigger fish to fry than to worry about this little sardine.

“I am not against you. You need to listen to me, Pippa is in on a lot of things, how do you think she knew about the death so quickly?”

“Protocol, she told me,” I answer.

“I think you should consider why she is perfectly okay with you being King and why she doesn’t want Anna as Queen, that’s all I am saying before I end up like my mother and have my body moved by you.”

“I am not going to kill you… yet,” I roll my eyes, “Stay quiet and don’t double-cross me.” I instruct, unsure of how to handle the situation. I’m not sure what I’m going to do about anything anymore. “So you think parliament got to your mother before anyone else could?”

Henry nods his head in agreement, “Yes.”

“What about your father?” I ask, still unsure with how Henry’s father plays a role in any of this, as far as I know, he’s the one that’s more on the mafia side of things. He calls the shots. He was the one who the King was on the phone to when I was in my morphine-induced sleep. I am not too sure if I believe Henry’s thoughts.

Henry again looks down at his shoes before looking back up at me, “Harry, I think he’s apart of it, too,” Henry confesses, “This started from them saving the Queen and it has spiralled into this mess for money and power, he’s very powerful with the connections he has.”

“Could he have killed your mother?”

Henry shrugs his shoulders with uncertainty, “Possibly, not sure what that motive would be… My father was a part of the Greece trip but Anastasia wasn’t meant to be harmed, I found all this out after…”

“So your father is a part of shit, another culprit I can add to my list… But you just told me parliament is a part of it, which one is it?”

“Parliament is in it and I think my Father was in charge of collecting money, assets and the threats. I don’t know, Harry. I’m on your side. I don’t want to be on their side anymore. I don’t want to be their puppets.”

“Mhm,” I hum, “I’m going to go back to dinner, you need to keep your mouth shut and stay under the radar until I figure shit out.”

Henry nods his head and I turn the water off, stepping out of the bathroom before leading back towards where dinner is still being held.

♛♛♛

The security chambers are cold and relatively quiet, the palace is the same way, there’s not much movement occurring and everyone seems to be accounted for. Anna is in her room, the Queen is in her living quarters, Madeline is with Prince Louis in the guest suite and Matthew is roaming the palace, doing another sweep of the floors.

“Oliver, you did good today,” I give him a faint smile as he relaxes down in the chair and presses his fingers to his temple. “A headache is a sign of a day done well,” I chuckle and I pet his back gently while walking past him to reach my sign out sheet.

Oliver sighs and lifts his head to look at me, “Thanks, I think it is lack of sleep.”

“Get used to it, pal,” I respond, signing my name across the line and flicking my wrist to check the time that reads one-fifteen in the morning.

“Lack of sleep or headaches?”

“Both,” I respond, “Aspirin will be your best friend, there will be nights your body will feel like it has been slammed against a brick wall, it isn’t an easy job, as you have seen already, but you’re doing really good.”

“This is the nicest you have been to me.” Oliver cracks a weary smile.

“Mhm, it’s the lack of sleep getting to me,” I grin.

“Most of the other guys are assholes, but not in a good way.” Oliver comments and I nod my head.

I have noticed the others tend to be assholes to Oliver, I’ve overheard a few comments here and there. I haven’t said anything mainly because I believe Oliver needs to stand up for himself, but I’m also waiting for the right moment to stand up and fire back on Oliver’s behalf. The others are merely jealous of the opportunity Oliver possesses.

“They’re assholes because they want your job and despise you, they don’t get to escort the members around, they’re more as back up. Get used to people not liking you, it comes with the job. Half of them can’t stand me and I did nothing, it is just that we are higher ranked, we were chosen and they weren’t.” … “Come on rookie, it’s past your bedtime, sign your signout sheet and we can head on out, Ryan has the surveillance covered,” I gesture towards Ryan who is actively watching the monitors.

Oliver and I force ourselves around the Palace, doing our best to quietly make our way towards the bedrooms. Oliver has temporarily been granted permission to stay at the Palace in a room until we can work something out for him, I was thinking of letting him stay at my apartment that I used when I first started, but I don’t see why he can’t be granted a more permanent decision on being able to stay living on the Palace grounds, there is enough room and it makes it a little bit easier to know Matthew and I are not the only ones constantly on the property, having backup and someone trained the way we need them to be is beneficial. I will have to work something out with Matthew and Anna’s mother for Oliver. Oliver is a good worker, he may be a bit younger than I am, but he has a good head on his shoulder. That isn’t to be biased either because he saved Anna in Greece, he is genuinely a hard worker.

Without a warning, a piercing scream distracts me from my thoughts and causes my eyes to widen. I look at Oliver before my instincts kick in and I begin to run down the hallway, my shoes hammering the red carpet, “I have screams coming from the east rooms, the third floor, I need the Queen and Princess’ locations, lock them down,” I instruct over my radio for all security details to hear.

“Ryan, any details?” Oliver requests on his end, keeping up with my pace while we continue to hurry towards the screams.

I reach a corner staircase the staff use and I am stopped when I recognise Madeleine, standing with her hands cupped over her mouth, her eyes wide and glossy with tears. Deep down, I don’t want to look at her discovery, for I have no clue what she could be staring at. Whatever it may be, it cannot be grand. My heart beats wildly and I take a breath before I take the plunge and glance over to observe what has prompted her to scream.

Oh, no.

I turn away for a brief moment before I shake my head, “Lock the Queen and Princess down, they’re not to leave their rooms or be left unattended, no staff are to leave the palace nor are they to move locations,” I speak into my radio before I grab my phone that is ringing with Matthew’s caller ID. “I need you up here, now… I uhh… I have a dead body.”  

[aikrus]

Another Day, Another Life (Tenya Iida x Villain!Reader)

Fandom: Bnha / Mha  Warnings: Angst, amnesia, swearing, weed, coping with death, hallucinations  Words: 3,456 Requested by: No one, but requests are open!  Request/ Description: Casualties are expected in a war, but when a child dies no one is ready. No one knows how to react. The death of a teen can tear people apart, it can rip people into shreds to never be put together again, but is it better or worse if they’re not actually dead?

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          Toga was far from an ideal friend. She was clingy and rude, she talked too much and she cared primarily about herself. She was weird and difficult to get understand, and you never really knew where she stood. She wasn’t perfect, but having her was a blessing in disguise. 

“Y/n, we’re heading out, are you ready?” While she wasn’t perfect, she was pretty close to it. Himiko had a strange way with words, and she could always make the world feel smaller than it was. Her voice was like warm honey on a spoon; hazy caramel color and sweet, perfect for recovery.

“I’m ready, thanks for grabbing me,” Y/n wasn’t close to anyone. It was hard to get attached when the overwhelming threat of having friends ripped away from her grasp constantly loomed over her. She kept her distance, but it was hard not to get sucked into being friends with the blonde.

“Of course!” Her bright smile feels like it should be un-nerving, it holds malice and hatred, it’s the smile of a girl who has been rejected her entire life- but it almost makes others smile back. And so, Y/n’s face was covered with the rare grin; which had become scarce. 

“It really isn’t that big a deal, but Shigarki is getting trigger-happy. We should hurry, I’m pretty sure Dabi will set his hands on fire if we don’t leave soon!” Her voice dripped sugar, and Y/n found herself hurrying. She put her phone into her side pocket, and she secured her outfit. 

The pair walked out of Y/n’s assigned room, and they made their way to the group scattered around the bar. “I thought you all were ready? Let’s get a move on!” Y/n said, there was an unusual lightness to her tone.

The group had started to pass through the given portals Kurogiri had made for them, and one by one they stepped through. In the end, only Dabi and Y/n were left standing with the tall void-like man. 

“Hey,” the gruff man had grabbed a hold of Y/n’s y/s/c arm, and he had lightly pulled it back.

“What’s the deal, Dabi?” She asked, not rudely, but he could tell she didn’t appreciate the physical contact. They were far from close. When Y/n woke up, Dabi could tell something was off about her. Not wrong necessarily, she just had a very unique vibe that he felt was oddly familiar. 

“It’s just...” he sighed and shook his head, “Nevermind. It doesn’t matter.” 

Whatever it was that Dabi was going to tell her obviously didn’t matter that much, so she shook it off and went through the portal. 

���You feel it too, don’t you?” Kurogiri looked him in the eyes with a knowing gleam in his eyes.

Dabi nodded and walked through the portal- it would be cruel to tell her- he decided as soon as he saw her laughing with Toga. She has no memory of it, and she just recently started to act like herself again, why would I ruin that for her?

Amnesia was a tricky situation for anyone to deal with. It was dangerous to the person suffering from it, due to how trusting and gullible they become- but it is significantly worse for those of them who have their memories of the victim intact.

Dabi was one of those lucky people- so is the majority of the other people on the team. They can all think back to at least one memory of the spunky girl they have grown to care for. She was always so strong, yet somehow she was always overshadowed by her over-zealous classmates. Those stars that tried to outshine her magnificence- Dabi could only hope they would burn out soon.

He had been one of the first to meet the girl, and boy was she hard to forget. If her physical appearance didn’t grab his attention- her striking y/e/c eyes and flawless y/h/c hair- her quirk definitely did. 

GateKeeper was a well-known up-and-coming hero and student at UA’s school for future hero’s, she was the receiver of the most interning opportunities, and she was respected by almost everyone. Named after her quirk, GateKeeper- or rather, Y/N, is able to access the gates between different planes. 

She can visit the gates of hell, she can see the holy light of heaven, she can see the Mormon’s different kingdoms and the fields of Aaru. She can walk along the banks of river Styx with those about to be reincarnated. 

She can see spirits or those who have passed, and she can comfort those who have lost love ones. With this power, she has been given the ability to have the power of those who have died where she is standing. She can call on the remaining spirits to help her, and she has the power to reap souls. 

Dabi had spent countless hours thinking about the girl who froze him in place- she showed him his worst fear and didn’t bat an eye. She was fierce and protective of all the other students, she stood in front of them and, with her small undead army of soldiers who could never move on, defended them till her last breath. If only she had died.

The fight hadn't lasted long, the pros took out most of the b-tier criminals, and the students were fighting here and there. With All-might out of the picture, it was anyone's guess how the fight would go.

Who would have thought that a single girl who wipe the floor with them? Ahh yes, in a flash of light she managed to subdue the vast majority of the villains, if only she hadn’t lost consciousness- then maybe she wouldn’t have been snatched away so easily. 

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It was hard to believe that Iida would skip school. For the first handful of days after the attack, he dragged himself to his classes- half-conscious and unwilling to be aware of his surroundings.

Eventually having to push himself to get out of his bed- let alone go to school- grew too much for him. He settled with walking to the canteen when everyone else was out to get food before going back to his room. 

He was never one for dramatics, but Iida knew there was nothing he could do. He had failed her, the love of his life slipped through his fingers- never to be seen again.

Day after day he listened to a voicemail left months before the incident- he was never happier for his phone to be dead than when he knew he could hear her talk to him again. 

And while Iida had his outlet for his sadness, his classmates were going more and more concerned with every passing minute. 

Midoriya would double take when he heard her voice through his wall, and, silently, he would press his ear against it just so he could make-believe she was still with them.

“Hey, Tenya! I guess you’re busy huh? Haha! It’s so weird to talk to your voicemail- I’ve never had to before. Well, I miss you! Remember that just because it’s Christmas and I’m not with you doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to celebrate with your other friends!

I just want to remind you how much I love you! You are such a great boyfriend, and I’m glad that you’re mine. I was planing on FaceTiming you while we have Christmas dinner, but since I can’t I guess this will have to do~

Sleigh bells ring, are you listening?

In the lane, snow is glistening

A beautiful sight

We're happy tonight

Walking in a winter wonderland

Gone away is the bluebird

Here to stay is a new bird

To sing a love song

While we stroll along

Walking in a winter wonderland

In the meadow, we can build a snowman

We'll pretend that he is Parson Brown

He'll say, are you married?

We'll say, no man

But you can do the job when you're in town

Later on, we'll conspire

As we dream by the fire

To face unafraid

The plans that we've made,

Walking in a winter wonderland”

She cleared her throat and laughed a little, “That was really awkward, but I hope you’ll accept my mini Christmas gift! I’ll wait to open the one you got me until I’m with you again. I love you Tenya, merry Christmas!”

Once again, the shrill ring of an ended voicemail echoed through his room. Wiping away a stray tear- Iida sat down at his desk.

Everything had been going so perfect, everything was going exactly to plan. His brother had been in recovery, they had been going smoothly, classes had finally declared winter-break, and then... everything fell apart. The storm had been brewing, and brewing, and then it came- and then it destroyed everything in its wake. 

It’s hard to accept a loss that you didn’t see happen. He didn’t get the goodbye, or the I’ll never let go. There was no body to hold on to, no one in the casket which was lowered to the ground. Nothing to show that his lover was gone- only the empty dorm room and phone number that gave no answer. 

The school had opened it’s doors during winter break for all the students and parents to come. Some of her closest friends only ever saw her in the hallow walls of UA, and now they didn’t have the chance to see her anywhere else.

There was really no good way to deal with it. ‘It’. Iida despised that word now- ‘it’ was the only way people described the death of his girlfriend. As if death was a taboo word, ‘it’ was all people talked about and yet their words meant nothing. 

Tenya was doing his best- fighting every single fucking day at a time. He hated what he had turned into. He hated the state of being that he devolved to be. Every trait she adored about her boyfriend diapered.  Failing to go to class and snapping at those that came close enough to bother him. He had always gotten cold when faced with misery, resolved and retreated in himself- he had never seen himself as someone who would take up smoking to feel better.

Weed always seemed so far beneath him, it felt like something nothings did to feel better about themselves instead of working hard at bettering themselves, but now even Denki wasn’t eager to help him. Last time he visited the blonds room Kaminari rejected him, saying that he wasn’t getting high in the right way and that he was worried Iida would become a drug abuser with how things were turning up. 

Tenya hated himself more that night. He hated himself and he hated everyone else. He hated Uraraka, who coped with baking Y/n’s favorite cookies and eating them to the movie they would watch during their own girl’s night. 

He hated Momo too, she still got straight A’s and seemed to be just fine- pretending like we didn’t hear her obnoxious sobs at two am. He hated Mina too- she had no place wearing Y/n’s hoodie to school everyday. It was a shitty thing to do. 

He’s pissed at Deku as well- Midoriya the hypocrite. Knocks on his door every day with his missed classwork and with his judgement, pressuring him to leave his room. Everyone knows his grade’s have gone down since her death so who is he to talk about attending class. 

He hates Bakugo, who only ever yelled at her even when she joked around with him- who’s words she laughed at but really made her drown in her insecurities when she was suppose to be secure in her boyfriends arms. Fuck Bakugo, for glaring at her empty seat next to him like he didn’t openly mock her when she got a grade lower than him. Fuck him for screaming at 3am and breaking the school punching bags. Fuck him for feeling bad after hurting her. Fuck him for being her friend. Fuck him for giving a shit. Fuck everyone.

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Aizawa sighed once he sat at his desk. Classes would start in half and hour and he was still crying. His silent tears burned down his cheek and all he could fell was the raw aching in his throat and the headache that felt like it was killing him slowly. 

He saw it then. In that classroom starring at her desk, he can see it happening. 

The cold breeze had moved his hair into his face, giving the villain a second outside of his hold. One second- yet it was long enough for him to disappear into the ground. 

“Dammit,” he hissed, looking around him. 

He heared Mic’s screech at a crowed of them on his left, and the majority of his students stood tall on his right. Everything was chaotic, but a Nomu appeared from the forest line everything exploded. 

He felt a familiar chill crawl over his skin, signifying Y/n using one of her ultimate moves ‘Fallen Heros’. AS what looked like hundreds of dead warriors of different generation’s rose from the ground- some in modern military uniform and others in ancient armor- and surrounded the giant Nomu. 

More appeared- in uniquely them outfits. They were the dead pro-heroes, the ones who passed during a fight they’ll never get to finish. The ones who either dine at Valhalla or will never be at peace after failing. 

A woman with black hair flew as she fought- with more ease than the others that were in spirit form. It was safe to assume that this was her quirk. The other that sent momentary shock waves through the gathering was Sir Nighteye, who waisited no time wiping out the waves of villains. 

Aizawa took notice of Y/n’s body floating in mid-air. The cost of her quirk- she had to keep note of all those she called upon. If one of the fallen are out of her sight for too long her body replicates what the dead’s went through, and she would eventually die from the injury. 

The dead soldiers ended the battle very suddenly, and, as their spirits returned to the afterlife, a large explosion of dust swallowed the crowed. 

Once they could all see, and the hectic environment calmed, Iida’s voice cut through the air. He was screaming as loud as he could, frantically running around the field of people. 

“Y/n!” He had shouted, his voice becoming horse. “Y/n!” Everyone became deathly pale and still as the horror of realization came upon them. She was gone. 

“Y/l/n?” Aizawa had shouted, starting the shove peoples shoulders to get to where she was. 

“Y/l/n now is NOT the time to play games!” He had hopefully prayed. His face fell along with his voice as he made it to where she had been floating. A scorched square of land had taken her place. 

His mind tried to go back and see the rose dead she had summoned, he looked frantically for a scorched soldiers face, but he couldn't find one. Even then it wasn’t hard to guess at what had happened.

No one near her had heard her screams, but with the noise coming from everyone in the dust storm, it would be unlikely that they would have been heard whether she screamed or not. 

He was right there. He saw her. He was less than three yards away. How did he let this happen?

He remembers looking around for a corpse of a soldier, but he wondered if, with Y/n dead, they would be able to live anyway. 

He pinched the bridge of his noes, wiping away the pools of tears from his stinging eyes. Rubbing them with his palm, his vision blurs when he looks up. Yet, even with the lines blurring, what he sees is unmistakable.

“Y/n?” He asked, seeing her figure sit on the top of her desk. 

“Calling a student by their first name,” she teased lightly, “how unprofessional,”

“Are you...” he stopped and starred at her, “Are you really here? Is this a part of your quirk?” 

“C’mon Eraserhead, like I would know. If you’re right then you’re right. If you’re wrong then I’m just a fixation of your brain and I wouldn’t know it,” She tried to reason, hopping off of her desk. 

“Damn... you’re right. I’m going batshit crazy,” he sighed, closing his eyes again.

“So,” Y/n smirked, walking up to his desk and bending over, placing her hands on her locked knees, “Wanna talk about why you’re fantasizing about your dead, female, super fucking hot, student?”

He groaned out annoyed and clawed at his eyes, “Why the fuck is that happening? I hate that, I hate this, cut this shit out!” He shouted, pushing his hand into his covered corneas. 

“What shit out?” Hizashi asked, stepping into his classroom.

“Nothing Mic, just overthinking,” he responded, slamming his eyes open looking for his student. 

“Alright Shouta, just remember that I’m across the hall if you ever need to talk,” 

Sighing once he noticed Y/n had vanished, he wondered if this was confirmation that he was hallucinating. Needless to say, Y/n definitely responded to her situation exactly how he would expect her to when she figured out her action’s had no consequence- like a little shit who needs to be put into detention. 

God, even thinking that last sentence made Aizawa feel dirty. He’ll definitely need to scrub his skin red after that. 

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Breakfasts in the mornings have changed a lot since school opened back up. Y/n was always made a plate of food and a drink every morning, it varied in who made it every couple days. No one vocalized what the food at her usual spot on the couch meant, but it was an unspoken rule that it would stay undisturbed. 

No one was entirely sure who cleaned it up when they were in class. They were pretty sure it wasn’t Iida, the seat was clear even when he was in class with them. 

Everyone missed her voice in the mornings. Whether she was complaining about late nights (to which Denki or Mina would yell get some in her direction after) or she was cracking jokes to help wake everyone up, her voice still rung in the air leaving a hole of silence where it once was. 

People’s sentences often drifted off half way through as their eyes caught themselves on her corner seat, where she once curled up into half a ball as she placed her plate of breakfast on top of a throw pillow. 

As people would shuffle off to class, everyone would throw a look over their shoulder and give a moment of their time to the friend they would never get to see again. 

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Taking one more look at the lock-screen of a phone she couldn’t unlock, she wondered who it was on her screen. A boy with strikingly unique features had white ice cream smeared from his noes down to his lips, and a small smirk was percent on his face. Lights from a Ferris Wheel and fairy lights lit up the dark night sky behind him, and what looked like her knuckles were in front of the camera, showing their interlocked fingers. 

It was a cute photo, but it was so foreign to her it made Y/n wonder if the phone was even hers. She sighed after staring at the keypad, asking for her password. The face id had been disabled after it shut off, and all she could do was hope she would remember what is was.

“You okay?” Toga asked, placing a hand on Y/n’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she responded, taking in the forest clearing Toga had taken her off to, splitting off from the rest of the group. “What are we doing here Himiko?”

“The other members want to know how much control you still have over your quirk. They thought I would be the best person for you t be around when we do this,” She explained, a soft smile on her face as she explained. 

“Huh,” Y/n had a few thoughts running around in her mind, “Shigiraki didn’t want you to tell me did he?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?” She teased, a wide smile on her face.

“I dunno... it felt like someone whispered it in my ear, if that makes sense?” 

“Who knows, that could be one of the parts of your quirk,”

“What exactly is my quirk?” She asked, glaring at one of the birds near them who had grown to be too loud. 

“It’s kinda hard to explain. The easiest way that I know how to explain it is that you’ve got a strong connection to the dead. You can talk to them, visit them I think, and most importantly you can summon them to fight for you,”

“Fight for me?” Y/n echoed. She wasn’t quiet sure why, but that phrasing felt weird... it almost felt off... 

“Yup!” Himiko cheered, bouncing slightly. 

“Alright,” Y/n sighed, shaking her arms, “Let’s give this shit a try,” she declared, moving her arms slowly from beneath her hips, struggling to get them above her waist.

In front of her, a muddy figure rose from the ground, it’s shoulders cracking as it took a deep breath of clean, fresh, air.