#what happened was i lost my job and could no longer by face wash because all of it costs like $20+

[jenna-louise-jamie]

can someone tell me why after years and years of struggling with acne it got better when i started washing my face with body wash. do you know how much money and time i've wasted on acne face wash and treatments.

[just-jordie-things]

just like my crush - fushiguro megumi

word count: 3.8k warnings: swearing, reader is doped up from anesthesia summary: confessing that you have a crush on someone really isn't that hard. all it takes is anesthesia clouding your judgment. a/n: brought to you by my lovely nanami flowershop anon's beautiful brain !!!

___

Injuries in this line work wasn’t unusual.  Someone was always occupying Shoko’s little infirmary and keeping her busy.  Nasty gashes, sprained wrists, broken bones- it was practically a part of the job description.  No, it wasn’t pretty, but at least with a master of the Reverse Cursed Technique on site, the mishaps that came with assignments never lasted too long.

Because of this expectation, Megumi had never been put in a position where he worried over someone’s well being after an exorcism gone awry.  He’d had life threatening wounds get healed more times than he could count on both hands, hell, Yuji lost a hand and got that back! 

So why did he feel sick to his stomach when she took a bad hit during an assignment? Why did his throat close up too tight for him to explain the situation to the manager on the assignment? Or to Ieiri when he got her back to campus? Why was there a cold sweat racing down his spine, but his insides felt like they were on fire? 

Despite all of Ieiri’s insisting that (y/n) was fine, that she’d gotten here just in time, that she was healed and would wake up at any time- likely without the memory of what happened- and that she would still be fine then… Megumi didn’t tear himself out of that room in the infirmary even once.  

When she does wake up- two days and a couple hours later- he doesn’t look too good.  He’d pale and he’s been bouncing his leg for so long it’s gone numb, but the relief that washes over him brings some color back to his face.

Her eyelashes flicker about a few times before she finally opens her eyes, but his attention is drawn to the way her hand twitches above the stark white sheets.

“Hey,” He murmurs, as quiet as he can stand to speak.  He didn’t want to startle her, and he thinks that if she were to flinch back at him, he’d flinch too.  “(y/n), you awake?” He asks when she doesn’t say anything right away.

Then her eyes finally find him, and with a hazy gloss over her blown pupils, she smiles.  It’s slow, and so, so impaired, but it’s pretty nonetheless.

“Oh, wow,” 

Her voice is strained, likely from not having been used for a couple days, but the light and breezy way in which she speaks is enough for him to know that her anesthetics haven’t worn off.  The stoner-like smile also tipped him off pretty well, but Megumi’s sure now.

“You know who you look like?” 

It’s not the question Megumi’s expecting, and his confusion is obvious in the way a tiny knot forms between his brows.  He would’ve thought  ‘where am I?’ or ‘what happened?’ would be in order, but maybe the anesthesia was more on top of her than he would’ve thought, so he hums in response and waits for her explanation.  Surely she’ll have something silly to say, it wouldn’t be the first time she called him a sea urchin for his messy hair.

“You look jus’ like my crush” (y/n) half-slurs back.  She tilted her head in his direction, trying to get a better look at him from where she was laying, but the rest of her body felt too heavy to move.

Megumi’s eyes widen, and before he can stop himself a small laugh comes out.  Confusion, humor, and disbelief blend into the overwhelming relief in knowing that Ieiri hadn’t been lying to him to protect his feelings.  (y/n) would be completely fine.

Maybe a little bit high, but still, completely fine.

Her shoulders shake in the slightest when she laughs in response to his own little chuckle, delighted purely by his reaction.

“I’m serious,” She mumbles out, eyes falling heavy for a minute the longer she stares at him.  “And it’s a compliment too, b’cause he’s, like, really cute”  “I didn’t know you were crushing on anyone” Megumi hums, leaning his elbows against the edge of her cot so that he could prop his chin in his hands.  Amusement flickers in his eyes when her expression noticeably shifts.  Her eyes widen and her lips part but no words come out.  Was he actually making her nervous? Who the hell did he look like in her eyes right now that had her reacting like this? 

Megumi can’t recall a time she’d ever talked to him about crushing on anyone.  Nothing of the sort, not even a hint.  And he’d definitely never seen the ruthless sorcerer appear so… 

Well, she looked like a girl with a crush.  A blush was forming on her cheeks the longer he held eye contact with her, and the way the corners of her mouth twitched and betrayed her as she tried to bite back a smile.

“Y-yeah, duh,” She stammers back at him with a sassy roll of her eyes.  Megumi’s quick to push his hand against his mouth to stifle his laughter.  “The point of a crush is it’s secret” 

“So you’re not gonna tell me then?” He asks curiously.

She probably didn’t know it, but (y/l/n) (y/n) was the only person in the world that got to see the playful side of him.  It was hard not to act on his intrigue, though.  It was too entertaining to see her in this state… and the rapid beating of his heart in his ribcage made him ache to know more.

But she shakes her head against her pillow, sealing her lips shut to further prove her point.  She’s still smiling, though, and she hasn’t torn her eyes off of his since she woke up.

“How’re you feeling, anyways?” Megumi decides to steer the topic back to one of more importance.  “Anything hurt? Can I get you anything-?” 

“Even your eyes are pretty like his,” She interrupts him, and then sighs as though this was a large inconvenience for her.  “You must be related,” She says matter-of-factly.

He hopes that when the drugs wear off she doesn’t remember this moment, because Megumi knows his face is as red as a tomato with how fiery his skin feels.  A nervous laugh bubbles out of him before he could choke it down, and her whole face lights up in response.

“You must not get compliments often, huh?” She teases in a slow drawl.

“I… I guess not,” He says, followed by more nervous laughter that happens against his will.  “But thank you, (y/n).  That’s very… kind” 

He’s painfully awkward, and he knows that as soon as he leaves this room he’s going to overthink this entire interaction, but for now he tries to bask in the warmth that sparks from knowing she thinks he has pretty eyes.  Or at least, she does when she’s so doped up she can’t quite focus on a conversation.

But at least she's obviously not in any pain.  Megumi’s worries begin to melt away, but that might just be the work of her flattery.

“You’re welcome,” She grins back at him, but she just as soon furrows her brows and regards him curiously.  Even after staring at him so shamelessly, she suddenly doesn’t appear to recognize him one bit.  “I thought Megumi only had a sister, though”

It comes out in a mumble, and he’s sure that she’s talking to herself in her deluded state, but the rush of heat that floods his chest and shoots up his neck is nearly too much to bear.

She actually didn’t recognize him this whole time? Was she talking about him this whole time? Was the flattery not a drug-induced misconception and actually-?

Before he can settle on a question to ask her to clear his confusion, she’s settling back into her pillow and her eyes are falling shut.  Megumi opens his mouth, ready to force out the first thing that comes to mind, but she drifts off almost immediately.  Her chest rising and falling in slow, steady movements.

It felt like a cruel prank.

Now he was left sitting and gaping at her unconscious form.  His heart is racing and his leg is bouncing again, and Megumi thinks he might be even more anxious for her to wake up this time.

He decides then and there that when she does, and when she’s of sound mind again, he’ll ask her about it.  Because if she really did have a crush on him he’d have to finally get over his ridiculous anxiety and make a move. ___

A week after making a full recovery, (y/n) comes to the decision that if she wants Megumi to talk to her, she’ll just have to corner him.

She’s not sure why he hasn’t been talking to her- hence her cornering plan- but ever since her last assignment had gone awry and she’d been put on a minor hold, he’d been dodging her.  And sure, Megumi wasn’t always the most sociable guy, but he was a friend and even if he didn’t feel like hanging out, he wouldn’t completely ghost her like this.

Of course she’d tried asking Yuji and Nobara about it, but they were a dead end.  They’d been just as surprised as she was that he’d been avoiding her.

I thought you were best friends, Yuji had frowned at the idea of a falling out between his two friends that he cared about so much.

Maybe he realized you have a crush on him and pussied out, Nobara had cackled at the scenario, not feeling an ounce of worry that this weird bump wouldn’t get resolved.

Needless to say, (y/n) was quick to steer her investigation far away from them, before the blabbermouths could do what they do best and blab around the wrong people.

She corners him while doing laundry, of all things.

“Hey,” 

And when she walks into the room while he’s tossing his freshly washed laundry into the dryer, Megumi hits his head on the lid when he swivels around in shock to see her there.

“Oh god, are you alright?” 

“I’m fine- it’s fine,” He answers all too quickly, before she’s even finished her question.  “I’m almost done with the washing machine” 

(y/n) can’t help but chuckle a little bit, seeing as she wasn’t currently holding a basket of laundry, but Megumi’s already back to filling up the dryer.  It appears every piece of clothing he tosses in is monochrome- mostly black, but a few gray pieces here and there.  This shouldn’t come as a surprise, but it is a bit funny.

“I actually was looking for you,” She tells him, leaning against the doorframe.  It’s half casual, and half to block his only escape.  Megumi responds with a small hum, still putting all of his focus on moving the laundry.  “Are you upset with me?” 

The question has him swiveling again, finally giving her his undivided attention.  It’s a bit unnerving, the way he straightens up and goes rigid as he stares back at her in bewilderment.  She wants to be annoyed that he has the audacity to look confused when he was the one that had been avoiding her for days, but she gives him the benefit of the doubt 

“Upset? No.  No of course not” He answers, and his words are so certain, that she believes him straight away.  But the small bit of truth doesn’t provide much relief.

“Then how come you’ve been dodging me?” She asks, unable to help her frown.  What other reason could there be? If he’s not mad at something, why would act so flaky?

“I haven’t been dodging you” 

“That’s a lie” 

“It’s not?” 

“It is,” She crosses her arms defensively.  “You haven’t been answering your phone and you always have some excuse to not talk to me.  Did I do something?” 

“Not really” 

He winces as soon as the answer leaves his mouth.  It wasn’t like him to get so careless- but it also wasn’t like him to avoid her.  Really, he was falling apart at the seams and trying quite desperately to appear as though everything was normal.  

It wasn’t working.  (y/n) could see the panic in his eyes as clear as day.  Not to mention the way his lips twitched like he was holding back further explanation.  She narrows her eyes as she studies him carefully.

“Not really?” She repeats his lame answer.  “So sort of? So I did do something?” 

Megumi’s certain that she chose to stand in the doorway so he couldn’t make an easy escape.  Would it be immature to summon the rabbits? 

“(y/n) it’s- it’s fine.  It’s me, alright?” He’s not very convincing.

“So you did something?” Another question he doesn’t want to answer.

“No- just- not really- it was just-” He stammers, and then groans, tilting his head back and glaring at the fluorescent light hanging over him.  

He recalls the way he’d sworn to himself that he’d talk to her about her little anesthesia-induced confession, and kicks himself now for cowering out of it.  Megumi never really ran away from a challenge, even when he knew he was in over his head.  But something about standing before her now and explaining how she’d inadvertently confessed to having a crush on him makes his heart beat out of sync and his throat go dry.

“Look I just don’t want things to be weird between us,” (y/n) sighs, giving up on interrogating him so heavily.  “So just… whatever it is, can we talk about it?” 

And he swoons, actually swoons.  His knees physically feel weak and he has to resist the urge to let all of his muscles relax and sink towards the ground.  It was so sweet, so considerate of her to want to mend the nonexistent conflict between them.  Megumi didn’t think it was possible to like her more than he already did, but she had a knack for proving him wrong.

So with an anxious breath, he thinks screw it and just lets it out.

“Do you remember waking up and talking to me in the infirmary?”

Her brows furrow, giving him her answer, and then her features soften with realization.

“You visited me in the infirmary?” She asks, almost in a whisper.  No, she didn’t remember, and no one had told her she’d had any visitors during her short stay there.

Megumi nods his head.

“Yeah, I… I stayed till you woke up.  And you did, for a couple minutes anyways, but you were pretty out of it.  Anesthesia and all” He explains.

She tries to rack her memory for any hazy glimpse of talking to Megumi in Shoko’s clinic, but nothing comes to mind.  She feels a little guilty now, having forgotten so easily.

“Okay…” She trails off, waiting for the rest of his explanation.  “So… something happened then?” 

Megumi hesitates, his expression twisted in mild displeasure, like he just stubbed his toe or has to deliver an oral presentation.  (y/n) tries to be patient, she really does, but the longer he draws this out the larger the pit in her stomach grows.

“Yeah,” The word comes out through a heavy breath, and he pauses for just a moment longer before admitting the last detail.  “You… you sort of confessed that you have a crush on me” 

“Oh,” 

Relief settles into her bones, and then a spike of panic.

“Oh” 

Her eyes are widening and her arms wrap tighter around herself, fingers digging into the sides of her ribs as if she could possibly ground herself with her anxiety reaching an all time high.

For fuck’s sake, she wasn’t this anxious when that Grade One tried to take a massive bite out of her body.

“You were really out of it, though,” Megumi says quickly.  “You were just… high.  You probably just couldn’t see or think straight-” 

“No, I wasn’t just high,” She cuts him off with surprising calmness in her voice, and a short shake of her head.  “I do.  Have a crush on you, I mean.  I didn’t… obviously I didn’t intend to tell you that, but, I guess high-me can’t keep a secret, so…” 

She trails off with a bashful giggle that would have embarrassed her if she wasn’t already filled to the brim with embarrassment.  Megumi’s lips part, but he doesn’t say anything.  The corner of his mouth twitches a few times too, and still, he’s standing in bewildered silence before her.

It’s not that he didn’t believe her, he was eighty-five percent sure that she’d meant what she said while she was still under the influence of the anesthetics, but that fifteen percent of uncertainty was his paranoia getting the best of him.  But now she was of sound mind, dead sober, and dead serious as she stared at him and awaited some sort of reaction.

No real reaction came, unless you counted the drumming of his fingers against his side, slow at first, but picking up speed the longer they both stood there and waited for the other to say something.

Megumi knows he should say something, and probably something along the lines of; well that’s a relief because I’m actually crushing on you so hard I don’t know what to do with myself… but unfortunately, he really didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Do I even want to know how badly I embarrassed myself?” (y/n) breaks the silence with a nervous but curious smile.

“You said I looked just like your crush,” He explained, heat flooding to his face as he recalled the other things she said.  “It was actually the first thing you said when you woke up,” 

She has to laugh at that a little, to which Megumi feels some of the tension in his shoulders disappear.  The tension in the room also starts to thin out, much to his relief.

“Then you went on about how cute your crush was.  And when I tried to ask how you were feeling, after, you know, surgery and all that, you ignored me and said…” He rubs the back of his neck, growing shy as he realized he was rambling and the subject matter already had his heart racing.

“Oh god… what?” (y/n) gasps, eyes widening, hoping she didn’t let out some dirty thought that she worked very hard to keep in the back of her mind.

“You said I had pretty eyes, and then you sorta let it slip that I was your crush, so I guess you didn’t realize you were talking to me the whole time… and then you passed back out” 

She’s laughing again, but this time she covers her face with her hands in a pitiful attempt to hide her blush until it goes away.  A small groan dies at the back of her throat.  The second hand embarrassment from her past-inebriated-self was just too much.

After all this time she's done so well at keeping her feelings under wraps, of never letting it be known with a slip of tongue or lingering touch, only to tell him so brazenly while in a hospital cot… it was ridiculous.

“God… I’m so sorry, that’s… wow, that’s probably the most humiliating thing I’ve ever done” She starts off looking at him, but ends up muttering to herself and looks away, still overwhelmed by the mortification of it all.

A small smile graces Megumi’s face, and in a moment of being true to his word, he musters up the courage to speak up before she could walk away and pretend this didn’t happen.

“It was more cute than humiliating,” He tells her, and she peeks back up at him in soft surprise.  “Maybe just a little embarrassing, just a little… but… still cute” His voice gets softer the longer she looks at him and he starts to lose the confidence he started out so strong with, but he still holds her gaze, hoping that she’ll know he means it.

“Cute?” She repeats in quiet disbelief.  Megumi nods back at her with absolute certainty and sincerity.

He gives into another bout of a confidence boost and takes a few steps forward, closing some of the space between them.  (y/n) practically scrambles to straighten up away from the doorframe, her shoulders squaring and her eyes widening as she watches him move towards her.

“And for what it’s worth, I think you have pretty eyes, too,” 

It’s quieter than he intends, but his words are effective in replacing the nervous tension in the room with something much more palpable.  The electricity buzzing between them was so thick they were practically choking on it.

(y/n) smiles, slow at first, processing the sudden compliment, and then all once.  Every inch of her skin warmed from the sweet words, and she’s not sure she’s ever felt flattery like this before.  She’s never taken a compliment so to heart, never known that she was going to go to sleep that night playing it over and over in her head.

Megumi’s eyes flicker between hers for a moment, admiring the way she lights up with delight before him, and then he opens his mouth again.

“They look just like my crush’s” 

Her brows furrow and despite that feeling of embarrassment spiking in her chest again, the corner of her lips curl into a smirk that gives into a smile almost immediately after.  Megumi’s clearly amused by this reaction, laughing to himself like he was so proud of his own tease.

“That’s so corny” She mutters, before stepping away from the doorway and closing the last bit of distance between them.

Despite his nerves he anticipates her movements, large hands finding purchase on her hips and practically yanking her the rest of the way that it takes to have her body against his.  There’s no extra time for words before their lips crash fast.  The kiss is surprisingly tender for how rushed their movements were, but it had them both melting into the other right away.

Her hands are gentle as they smooth over his shoulders before wrapping lightly at the nape of his neck.  Her fingers poke into the dark strands of hair that hang there, and when she curls a few locks between her index and middle finger, he presses his lips against hers with a little more fervor.

Even once they part from one another, neither one goes very far.  Gasping for air with lips still brushing each other’s, noses bumping, and hands still holding on tight all in the name of not putting an inch of distance between them.

Still no words are exchanged as they share a look before both glancing at the open doorway behind them.  It doesn’t take verbal communication for Megumi to reach behind her to grab the door by the handle and swing it shut.  The only sound that fills the room is the white noise buzzing from the dryer cycle, and the soft giggle that’s immediately suppressed by warm, inviting lips pressing against hers again.

___

a/n: thank u again my amazing nanami flowershop anon for this really fun idea. also i just love playful megumi. he's so cute n shy <3

xoxo ~ jordie

[stinkyturd]

Your Fragrance

Pairing: Romeo Lucci/Reader

Comments: It's Romeo, so it's gonna be a little possessive and weird. If that makes you uncomfortable, this probably isn't your cup of tea. Also, I absolutely hate naming throwaway characters, but I did here to avoid confusion, haha. So, if for some reason you're second guessing if you're misremembering a canon side character, you're not. 🙂‍↕️

Working for Romeo could be exhausting.

The Sinostra vice-captain always had something for you. Be it helping out with casino security, sending out reminders for outstanding loans, or doing menial errands like fetching him various products he may need to keep his skin hydrated or his hair in mint condition. Sometimes he'd even message you at ungodly hours when you were tucked away, seconds from slumbering at your cathedral. 

Overall, you didn't mind. It's not like you HAD to do it. Darkwick hadn't been quite as needy with sending you out on inspector related errands, so you had the time, and you didn't mind Romeo's company. Sure, his personality is completely abrasive and an acquired taste, but underneath it all he had some redeeming qualities. And for some reason he chose you to hire as an assistant. You didn't get paid much. In fact, it was lower than minimum wage. You're pretty sure you could get a part-time job around the campus that would be far more fruitful with less work. 

And now that you were on consistent speaking terms, it was a lot easier to find ways to get under his skin. It was kind of fun pushing him to that level of irritation just before it all boils over. Oddly enough, a scrunched up scowl really highlighted his devastatingly pretty features. You're not sure you've seen anything quite like it on anyone else before. 

Right now, you are sitting next to him on the massive sectional sofa in the VIP room, listening to him rant about trivial anecdotes while you check his email for him. 

"I don't want to deal with these degenerates speaking to me any longer!" Romeo huffs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You need to establish a precedent in this place that no one should talk to me without pre-approved incentive!"

Your eyes remain locked on the laptop in front of you as you attempt to read over a document sent to you by one of the vice-captain's subordinates, while still acknowledging Romeo's ramblings. "I can give it a shot. What happened this time?"

"A fool from Frostheim came in this morning. That USP told me that the new cashmere divan I purchased for the lobby is tacky! What the fuck does he know about quality luxury...?! That buffoon probably washes his face with hand soap, if he does at all!"

You smirk a little at that, clumsily scrolling the page in front of you with just a trackpad. "Is he a regular?"

"Yes, it's that idiot that always sits at the table by the high limit slots! The one with those shitty, thick-framed, square glasses!" Romeo leans back into the sofa, folding his arms across his chest. 

"Oh...?" Your lips tug into a mischievous smirk. "I think I remember that guy. Dark hair, super clear skin? Has good taste in cologne?" The student he's referring to does actually have dark hair. You remember because it's not the first time Romeo has complained about him. The rest of the description you gave is entirely fabricated. 

You catch a glimpse of the vice-captain's reaction in your peripheral vision. If looks could kill.

Romeo narrows his fuchsia eyes at you. "Have you lost your mind?! Clear skin?" The vice-captain leans in close, jabbing a gloved finger to his face. "This! This is clear skin!"

"Oh, for real?" You don't look up as you suppress a shit-eating grin, tapping away at the keyboard in front of you. 

"Look at me when I'm talking to you, nitwit! I can't have my BB of an assistant prancing around thinking that some Frostheim pig's face even compares to mine!" Romeo removes the laptop from your lap, setting it on the low-profile table in front of you.

You flick your gaze over to his face that's less than a foot from yours. Placing a hand on your chin, you pretend to examine his skin. "Hmm... really? I don't see the difference." 

You did. No one's skin glows as much as the man in front of you.

Romeo clenches his jaw so tightly you're almost concerned he's going to grind down his perfect teeth. "You don't see the difference...?! Perhaps we should get your eyes checked! And you're supposed to be the one surveying the EITS?!"

"But you agree his cologne is pretty solid?" Your lips twitch as the vice-captain's face comically becomes more animated with each snarky comment you make. 

"That fool may as well be rolling around with a wet dog! Whatever bootleg fragrance he wears does not match his pH! How far away were you from that imbecile to draw that conclusion?!" Romeo shouts indignantly.

You're no longer able to keep up the act, your lips peeling into a full on grin as a giggle escapes you.

This only seems to irritate Romeo further. "And what's so funny?!"

"I was only teasing you. I've never been close enough to smell him. Definitely not close enough to see his pores."

"Y-You...!" Romeo's face flushes in a mixture of frustration and embarrassment. "For what purpose, fool?!"

"You look cute when you're all mad," You say like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Sorry, Boss. You make it too easy."

"Do you know how much my collagen cream costs? If you expedite the rate in which I obtain wrinkles, you will be my servant until the day you die to pay me back!" Romeo growls.

"How scary," You tease, tearing your gaze from the man shouting at such close proximity. If he stays like that any longer while you face him, you may actually start blushing. Reaching forward, you set the portable computer back in your lap.

"Fucking right, it's scary! I'll make sure your income is so low that you'll be taking residence in my private office," Romeo huffs, finally sitting back as he was before. 

You snort. "Are you going to make me stay in my underwear too, like you did with Kaito?" 

"You'll be lucky if you are even granted that amount of decency," Romeo spats. 

Heat crawls up your neck at the implication. 

"...Wow. Pervert." You're barely able to say it without your voice nervously cracking.

"Tch...! Don't flatter yourself," Romeo counters. A vibration, followed by a ringing sound emanates from his dress pants. The vice-captain stands, pulling his cell phone out. Before he answers it, he shoots you a glare. "You're in need of some serious TLC in order for that to be any concern of yours."

"Oh? That's okay, you're not my type anyway," You lie, as you return your attention to the email in front of you. 

"Excuse me...?!" Romeo flits his furious gaze from you then back to the phone. "This conversation isn't over! Just you wait…!" The Sinostra vice-captain drags a finger across his phone's screen, then brings it to his ear. As if the caller on the other end is physically present, Romeo relaxes his face with his tone before replying. "Hello...? Right, when…?" 

The vice-captain paces around the room mumbling vague replies to the mystery receiver. After a minute or so, he hangs up and stalks back in your direction. 

You pretend you don't notice him as you continue working, anticipating verbal outlash. Instead, you feel a weight sit alarmingly close to your side. Your hand stills on the track pad in front of you when Romeo wraps an arm around your backside. 

"(Y/N)~" The vice-captain speaks so close to your ear that involuntary chills run up your spine. 

You weren't that startled by the gesture. Romeo did this occasionally when he wanted something. Trying to act all sultry to fluster you to the point of accepting his request. That was further confirmed by the rare use of your actual name rather than an acronym disguising an insult.

Usually, you would do whatever he wanted anyway as long as it wasn't too out of your comfort zone. Any time that you'd decline he'd have a fit about it and ignore you for a while after. 

"Why do I get the feeling you're going to ask me to do something ridiculous?" You ask with a sigh. 

"Oh, it's nothing too crazy. But do you think you could get a permit and make a delivery for me outside campus, pretty girl? I know you have enough rapport with the Chancellor to do it by now," Romeo drawls, tucking stray hairs behind your ear. 

"What are you trying to get me to deliver? And where?" You ask, flicking your gaze to his suspiciously.

"It's not important, I will give you the address. All you have to do is drop it off in a mailbox. It's not too far from the station," Romeo explains coolly, his minty breath tickling your nose. 

"Hmm..." You hum contemplatively, turning your head back to the laptop. "I dunno... sounds kinda sus. I don't want to lose my honor student privileges, you know?" 

"...There is nothing sus about it! And you won't. Just say you want to make a delivery to a friend." The demanding impatience in Romeo's tone is already starting to rear its head as you continue to question him.

"I dunno. What's in it for me?" You persist nonchalantly. 

"Continued employment and my approval, obviously! What more could you want?" Romeo argues.

You weren't stupid. He was probably fully intending on sending you off with illegal substances. It would be easy to do it and not get caught, but it's not like you were gung-ho about making runs like that. And it's not like Romeo could do it himself with Sinostra's suspension. What could you request in return that he would be deterred from ever asking you again?

"I might consider it if you do something for me," You reply as another impish grin threatens to peel back. 

Romeo clicks his tongue impatiently. "Asking me for favors now? What could you possibly want?"

"Kiss me," You request, making a point to sound as deadpan as possible. 

The room becomes uncannily still for several moments once the words fall from your mouth.

You smirk, taking your time before you look back at Romeo to assess the damage. The Sinostra vice-captain is boring a hole through you with his eyebrows furrowed. You watch his smooth lips part marginally, as if something is just on the tip of his tongue. 

It's almost hilarious. The way that he just came onto you with the intention of coaxing you to do his bidding, but when the tables are turned he's at a loss for words. You let out a short laugh, deeming this to be your victory as you refocus your attention on the laptop in front of you yet again. "Looks like my hands are tied, Vice-Captain. Maybe you can blackmail Kaito into doing it."

Romeo clicks his tongue in annoyance. "Imbecile, did I say no?"

Well, you can't say you were expecting that. 

You laugh awkwardly, looking at him like he just lost his mind. "What, you're going to agree just like that?"

Romeo nods. "If you wash your face and do a proper skin care routine beforehand. And make sure your mouth is entirely scrubbed clean, if I taste anything foul on your lips, so help me god...!"

"Woah, woah, woah...! I didn't say anything about the lips," You reply, your voice slightly panicked. "Also, you gotta kiss my face as is. It's part of the stipulation. And I haven't washed it in, like, five days. I probably got blackheads galore. You seriously wanna go through with that?"

You had washed your face and put on products previously recommended to you by Romeo this morning. The more affordable ones, anyway. Not that he needed to know that. 

Romeo squints his eyes as he closes in on you, stopping just inches from your face. "You're lying. Why? I don't have time for these games."

How did he immediately call on your bluff?

When you struggle to formulate an excuse, Romeo leans forward, cupping his gloved hand on your chin. You don't have time to react before he presses his plush lips against your cheek. The vice-captain stays that way for a second too long, the kiss past the point of being chaste. When Romeo pulls back, he's quirking a perfectly groomed eyebrow at you. 

"I'd recognize that scent anywhere. Did you put on Tatcha cream this morning?"

You can feel heat gather at the apples of your cheeks as you gawk at him wordlessly. 

"I suppose you're not entirely hopeless after all." Romeo smirks approvingly as he gives you the backhanded compliment. 

"Shit," You mutter, sighing in defeat.

"Looks like you will be my delivery girl. Don't fuck it up, BB," Romeo says derisively, before getting to his feet and walking off to retrieve the parcel. 

--

Days pass after you begrudgingly follow through with the delivery without anything particularly eventful happening. Currently, you're seated at a bench in the courtyard just outside of campus helping Kaito prepare for an upcoming test in a class you both had. Your phone has been vibrating in your pocket for a hot minute, but you're so determined with focusing on helping Kaito, you ignore it for the time being.

"Jesus effing Christ! I don't get this shit at all, I'm totally gonna bomb this," Kaito whines. The Frostheim student has his fingers wound in his hair as if he's ready to yank it out in clumps. 

"If you hold that attitude the entire time, you just might. A lot of this test is going to be memorization. If anything, I can whip up some flash cards really quick for you," You offer, shooting him a sympathetic glance. 

"Hah... y-you'd really do that? You're seriously an angel." Kaito's voice cracks and he dramatically begins to sprout tears from the corners of his eyes. 

"Pffft, it's nothing. If anything, I still owe you for helping me out so much when I first got here." You pull out a stack of blank index cards from your messenger bag and peer over at the highlighted material in the notepad settled in Kaito's lap. 

Picking up a pen, you begin scribbling the most important bits on the cards that you presume will be on the test. It takes you around ten minutes, but when you finish you hand the stack over to the Frostheim student. 

"Just study it before bed for at least twenty minutes every night until the exam. That's what I always do when I don't retain enough," You remark with a reassuring smile. "Easy peasy."

"T-Thanks so much, (Y/N)." Kaito looks at you with a melting expression, his lower lip puckered into a pout. "I'll get a permit and take you out to my favorite ramen place if I pass this thing, for real."

"Oh? I'll hold you to that," You quip, smirking at him.

Kaito holds out his pinky, nodding fervently. "Pinky swear! It'll be super fun."

You latch your own finger with his. "I bet. I've been craving those marinated eggs lately. It's like you read my mind. Maybe we could bring Lucas, too?"

"Uh... m-maybe. Or it could be..." Kaito giggles nervously, scratching his blonde mop. "Like a d-d-date...?"

"A date...?" You tilt your head, eyeing your friend curiously. 

Before Kaito can present his case, a black gloved hand swats his out of yours in the blink of an eye. 

"A date?! Don't make me laugh, leech! If you don't pay EPB you will be lucky to be still breathing come the day of your exams!"

"GYAAAAH...!" Kaito stumbles back from his seat, landing butt first on the stone ground. "W-What the hell are y-you doing here...?! And how long were you listening?!"

Romeo places a hand on his lip, glowering at Kaito with disdain. "Long enough." The vice-captain briskly snaps his head in your direction. "And just how long did you think you would continue getting away with ignoring me, BB? While fraternizing with this fool who owes me money? You want to take permanent residence in my private office that badly?"

You blink at Romeo owlishly. "Huh? Ignoring you? Since when?" Then it dawns on you. Your phone was vibrating in your pocket like crazy earlier. 

"Don't play dumb! I know your phone is on you!" Romeo yells, jabbing an accusing finger in your direction.

You snort at that. "How do you know that? Maybe I left it at my dorm."

"Are you so daft that you think I'd let my assistant frolic around OTG?"

You avert your gaze upwards, pondering what the acronym could possibly mean. "...Alright, you lost me. OTG?"

"Off. The. Grid...!" Romeo retorts, enunciating each word with biting emphasis. 

You stare at his sour face blankly for a few seconds as you belatedly digest the implication. Scratching your cheek, you quirk an eyebrow at him. "Don't tell me you're tracking me, Boss?"

"Of course I am!" Romeo admits shamelessly. "And don't even think about finding the application and removing it! I made sure that your access is restricted from such tampering!"

You sigh, not particularly perturbed or surprised by the revelation. "You're a real weirdo, you know that? If this were a legitimate job with human resources I could totally report you if I wanted."

"S-Since when did you start working for this nut job?!" Kaito asks, now scrambling to his feet. "Jesus Christ, just work at the campus!"

Romeo glares daggers at the blonde. "Unless you'd like to spend the night being hung up by your toes, I suggest you make yourself scarce! And I expect a money order by 12pm sharp tomorrow, or I will be making an appearance at your dormitory."

"Urk...! F-Fine...!" Kaito hastily grabs his messenger bag from the bench. "I'll see you later (Y/N)! Text me...!" The blonde flicks a wary glance in Romeo's direction before scampering off.

"Now that the fool has left, you are coming with me, BB! I have a job for you. And turn your audio notifications on for my number, FFS!" Romeo orders.

You roll your eyes before getting to your feet. "Fine, fine, I hear ya." 

--

After announcing that Romeo had your location tracked, you swore that you had begun to notice that he was making more frequent appearances where you didn't usually see him. When you went to eat at the weird diner Ren works at with Lucas, Romeo showed up in the middle of your meal, requesting you return to Sinostra as soon as possible. A day later you saw him on the main campus in the second year wing of the building to fetch you after class. Another day, you went to help Alan with some paperwork and the Sinostra vice-captain was there, too. Romeo had claimed that he was just there to speak with Leo, but then insisted that you come with him once you had finished up, anyway. 

It's not like you had a set schedule to work. Sometimes you wouldn't help him for a day or two in the event that Darkwick needed something that took priority. Who knows? Maybe it really was all a coincidence. 

You sat in the VIP room again, a few of Romeo's goons were talking amongst themselves across the room, while you were waiting for whatever task the vice-captain had planned for you that evening. Romeo had texted you earlier in the day, and he had made it seem as if it were something urgent. 

Eventually, the double doors burst open and Romeo made a beeline for you. 

You lift your eyes to meet the Sinostra vice-captain's as he approaches, stopping to a halt right in front of you. “Heya, Boss,” You smirk up at him. “What's good?”

“(Y/N),” Romeo starts, his voice as sweet as molasses. The vice-captain is looking down at you with a jovial smile. ”Just In time~”

“Ugh…” Your expression falters to a tired one in an instant. Standing up, you make an attempt to slide out from in front of him. “Just realized, Cornelius asked me to do some stuff at Frostheim, so if you'll excuse me–”

Romeo holds your waist firmly in place, narrowing his eyes sharply at you. “The Chancellor sent you no such notification. I should know.”

“C'mon now you're hacking into my phone to read my messages?” You ask in disbelief, irritation rising in your voice. “I'm starting to think you're in love with me.” 

“Idiot! Now you're just blowing smoke up your ass! I have my reasons,” Romeo counters vaguely. The vice-captain is close enough that you can smell every fragrant product he had on today.

You click your tongue, sitting back down with your arms folded over your chest. Debating with Romeo was like talking to a brick wall, so you weren't about to waste your breath. “Fine, what do you need?”

Romeo turns his head to the group of his lackeys behind him. “Fools! You better have that box with you.”

“Sorry, right here, Boss!” One of the students hurried over to Romeo's side, handing said box over to him. 

Romeo takes it, then tosses it in your lap. It's not that heavy and it has a white lid. “Here! This will be my gift to you, should you do what I ask.”

You eye him skeptically, to which he nods. Despite the usage of the word gift, knowing him, there was a pretty big catch. Hesitantly, you reach out and lift the lid in front of you. 

The scarlet fabric immediately catches your eye. Silk? 

You lift the item out of its box, extending the piece of clothing enough to where you can really judge what you're looking at. It looks to be some type of halter neck evening gown. Formal, yet not too formal. The way the fabric feels against your fingertips tells you that this is worth several months' pay at least. Just beneath the dress is a set of accenting jewelry at the bottom of the box. You don't know enough about that kind of thing to even begin to guess it's worth.

“...What the hell is this?” You ask, completely bewildered. 

“A dress, obviously. Do you have eyes?” Romeo snaps.

“Okay, but why?”

Romeo exhales, steeling himself like he's about to make a sales pitch. “...Tonight I have a guest. A former colleague of mine, for lack of a better word. I have a list of tables I need you to lead him to and goad him into playing. The fool likes to bid high.”

“And I gotta wear this to do it?” You prod, creasing your eyebrows. 

“That GFNS has a type and if I work my magic, you will fit that,” Romeo explains, placing a hand on his hip.

“You can't seriously expect me to flirt with some rando. And what, are you gonna cheat him out of money? I thought you were against that!” You argue. 

Romeo clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “You don't need to seduce him, just act as you normally do. Pretend you recognize him. The idiot has a meager amount of fame in the outside world, so it won't be odd. As for cheating him– the piece of shit deserves it. He did the same to me and still believes I am unaware. It's a wonder I haven't killed him already.”

You pause, taking a moment to process everything. “How the hell am I supposed to convince him to follow me around?”

“Start by offering him a drink, and tell him you're my cousin. I will provide you with a list of what to do from there. The majority of men are simple meatheads,” Romeo states matter-of-factly. “Throw a pretty woman in front of them and they will fold like a deck of cards.” 

You roll your eyes. “So now I'm pretty? What happened to ‘basic bitch’?” 

“...You're not repulsive,” Romeo admits, averting his gaze. 

“Such a charmer,” You say sarcastically.

“So, will you do it?”

It didn't sound like the most fun task in the world, but if you weren't pressured into behaving a certain way, it really wouldn't be so bad. Plus, you kind of want to have Romeo doll you up. The vice-captain has referenced it enough in passing, but had yet to follow through.

“I really don't have to hit on him?” You reiterate. 

“Be friendly, that's it,” Romeo insists. 

“Do I get another kiss for this?” You joke, wiggling your eyebrows.

Romeo's flicks his gaze over you fully, as if he's genuinely considering your question. “...Ask me again when you clean up.”

You nearly choke on air at his nonchalant reply.

“Joke! That was a joke!” You insist with a nervous laugh, waving your hands wildly in protest. “My next kiss, face or otherwise, will be reserved for my future partner!”

Romeo's lips pull slightly downward and his expression wavers like he has more commentary to throw back at you. Instead, the vice-captain pushes out an exasperated sigh as he turns on his heel and waves you off dismissively. “Go and put that on. Don't keep me waiting.” 

“Okie dokie. You got it, Boss.”

When Romeo handed you a mirror after he applied makeup on you and styled your hair, you almost didn't recognize yourself. It's not as if you hadn't dressed up before, but it never came out quite this well. As it turns out, the vice-captain wasn't all talk with his stylistic choices. 

You were thoroughly impressed. Romeo had also brought shoes to you before he had gotten started on your makeup, that matched the dress and accessories. Everything fit perfectly, too. Which, you did wonder how that was possible without Romeo somehow invading your privacy again. You didn't bother touching on that subject. 

“Woah, you really know your stuff,” You compliment Romeo, as you admire the rouge lip color he had applied to your face. It complimented the dress perfectly. 

“I am offended that you ever doubted me,” Romeo retorts. He's sitting on a stool in front of you and the couch in the VIP lounge. “I have a feeling this will go according to plan. Just look over your notes beforehand, got it?” 

You nod, lowering the mirror onto the table in front of you. “By the way, is this guy really going to make up what it cost to get me this stuff? This looks crazy expensive.”

“Of course,” Romeo insists, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. “You think I intend to support a charity case? As long as you do what I say, this will be a miniscule dent in the return.”

“That's good at least. I almost started to feel bad.” You stand up, with the intention of getting the ball rolling. 

“Hold on,” Romeo stands with you, pulling a golden vial out of the pouch of makeup that rests on the table. The vice-captain opens it, a strong, but inviting fragrance permeates your immediate surroundings. Leaning in close, Romeo dabs some of the liquid from the wand that's attached to the lid onto your neck. 

“Oh, that smells nice…” You murmur, pretending like the close proximity of your gorgeous tyrant of a boss isn't making your heart beat rapidly. 

“As it should. It's of high quality.” Romeo brings a pale hand to your neck, spreading the oil-like perfume across the expanse of your neck gently with his fingertips. 

The Sinostra vice-captain's expression is completely unreadable at the moment. And for reasons unbeknownst to you– you struggle to take your eyes off of him. Maybe it's because he looks more peaceful than usual? If you had to guess, this kind of thing might be fun for him. 

“Thank you,” You say impulsively, beaming at him. 

Romeo removes his fingers from your neck, flitting his gaze to meet yours. His eyebrows are furrowed in confusion. “What are you thanking me for?” 

“I dunno, this is kind of fun. I think it's better than you making me go on a drug deal,” You tease. 

“I never admitted to making you do anything of the sort,” Romeo counters. 

“Never admitted,” You emphasize with a coy smirk. “Even if you're doing this for your own agenda, I still appreciate your creative efforts. So, thanks.”

Romeo stares at you with an indiscernible  expression for a few beats, his face alarmingly close to yours. It feels strange. Since when was he so comfortable being this close without reason? Especially when he's not visibly pissed about something.

“...Thank me by doing your job correctly,” He finally says. 

Romeo increases the distance between the two of you, placing the now closed vial of perfume back where he got it. “Now scram. I have things to do.”

It feels like you can finally breathe. What is this strange feeling?

“Yeah, sure thing…”

The guest Romeo had told you to tag along with was turning out to be a seemingly decent guy. He had dark hair and was handsome enough, but compared to the ghouls at Darkwick, he didn't particularly stand out. Based on the information Romeo wrote down for you, he is well known on social media for creating and promoting a pretty successful clothing line. His actual name was lost on you, but Romeo just told you to refer to him as Zomo. You weren't sure if it was a public nickname for him, or one given to him by the vice-captain himself. 

Everything Romeo had told you to do had seemingly worked. The influencer initially had been confused by you approaching him, until you labeled yourself as Romeo's close cousin. From there it was relatively easy to converse with him. You showed him around and you didn't have to try very hard to get him to participate at the table games. The first table the list told you to take him to was a game of roulette. And you couldn't help but notice a familiar red-headed captain seated at the gaming table. 

You knew basic casino etiquette, courtesy of Romeo. Since you didn't intend on playing, you observed from behind Zomo's chair. 

“Say… don't I know ya from somewhere, Kitty?”

You glance over at Taiga. He's leaning on the table in a languid posture, his head resting on his fist. The Sinostra Captain is smirking at you impishly. 

“Yeah. Don't you remember? It's me, John Titor,” You joke, though you intentionally keep your expression serious for the bit. 

“...That what it was?” The smile never leaves Taiga's face as he stares at you, likely trying to figure out if it's actually the truth. After a long pause, he starts laughing. “...Gyahaha! Ya don't seem like a John. Feel like ya gotta have a beard for that one!”

Romeo's guest looks between the two of you skeptically. You wonder if he knows Taiga already. If not, you could only imagine the confusion, especially considering you introduced yourself with your real name. 

“I'll just call ya Johnny for now, how ‘bout it?” Taiga holds a fist out to you, like he intends to hand you something. Curious, you reach your palm out to him. 

Without warning, Taiga slaps several orange chips directly into your hand. A familiar tingling sensation lingers on your palm at the contact. You blink, meeting Taiga's gaze dubiously.

Was it part of Romeo's plan for Taiga to use his stigma, then? Guess it only makes sense if they're trying to screw this guy.

Taiga grins at you wolfishly for a moment before pulling back and leaning onto the table again. “Get me a drink will ya? Think I'm in the mood for an Old Fashioned.”

“...Sure,” You say. Looking down at the Zomo guy, you speak up again. “Want anything?”

“Same thing, thanks,” He replies.

Hours went by of spectating as Romeo's guest fails each and every one of the games he participates in. A constant throughout the evening was Taiga making an appearance at every table that you influenced Zomo to play at. If you had any doubt that Romeo and the Sinostra Captain had collaborated in the scheme together, that was long gone. 

Throughout it all, Zomo continued requesting drinks, and you retrieved them every time he asked. He was either so trashed that he didn't realize how much money he lost, or he just didn't care. By the time you reached the finale of the last game on your list, Zomo was completely out of chips. 

“Damn… lost again, eh? That's embarrassing.” Romeo's guest lethargically scratches his head at the Baccarat table. The rest of the players had already made themselves scarce, leaving the two of you alone for the moment. Aside from the dealer who was busying himself in idle chatter with another casino employee.

“Oof, damn!” You say, doing your best to feign shock for the umpteenth time. “That sucks, buddy. Maybe next time?”

“Buddy…?” Zomo repeats, his brow creased. You hear him curse under his breath. And only seconds after that, you feel a hand grip your wrist and yank you forward. 

“Woah…!” You trip over your feet and nearly butt heads with the man seated at the table. Zomo stretches a hand out, stilling your shoulder in time with his free hand. 

“Here I thought you were gonna cozy up with me for the night. Turns out you're just a fuckin’ tease, eh?”

Oops, looks like you made the wrong dialogue choice. Creeper alert!

You attempt to yank your hand back, but the man's grip is firm. Zomo's face is just inches from yours, and his breath reeks of brown liquor. Taking a deep breath, you narrow your eyes at him. “Let me go, fuck face.”

“Don't think I'm gonna do that,” He says, his voice slurring over his words.

“Dude, seriously!” You growl, moving your other hand forward to attempt to peel the man's fingers off. 

The sound of a gun bolt sliding back and locking into place sounds from your right. 

You glance up. The Sinostra vice-captain is training a rifle less than a foot from the man's head. Your breath catches in your throat as you watch his finger linger dangerously close to the trigger. “W-Wait Romeo, don't–”

“Get the fuck out,” Romeo seethes, his words come out far more venomous than you ever thought possible. “Unless you'd like me to contact Darkwick's medical facility to relay details for your death certificate.”

“W-Woah, chill man…! I w-wasn't gonna do anything,” Zomo sputters out as he releases your wrist to hold his hands up in surrender. 

“Not only are you a thieving weasel, you're lying through your teeth,” Romeo balances the butt of the rifle against his shoulder, using his free hand to wave over a member of security. “Escort this BFL out.”

The security member quickly makes his way over to grab Zomo's shoulder and carries out Romeo's orders. The vice-captain's old acquaintance doesn't make a fuss as he's led towards the door. If he did, you may actually think he's insane. You wouldn't put it past Romeo to actually pull the trigger. The Sinostra vice-captain had shot at Ritsu before, after all. 

Romeo lowers his gun once Zomo's out of sight, and turns his head to look at you, his gaze cold. “VIP room, now.”

“Uh, sure.”

You follow Romeo back to the room you can never seem to stay out of nowadays. The vice-captain says nothing the entire walk there. It was a little unsettling not hearing him rant angrily about one thing or another. You weren't sure what to expect when you watched Romeo close the massive double doors behind the two of you. A distinct clicking noise makes you double take in his direction. 

Did he just lock the door?

A brief surveillance of the room tells you that you're the only two people inside. 

“Sit,” Romeo demands, waving in the general direction of the sofa. The vice-captain doesn't wait for you to reply before he stalks off towards the back of the room with his rifle, presumably to stow it away. 

You make your way over to the sofa, plopping down. Deciding it's been weirdly awkward for long enough, you speak up. “You're being quiet. Are you mad?”

You hear something click shut from behind you, and a few moments later Romeo walks back into view. The vice-captain makes his way over to you, taking a seat relatively close to you. He looks at you with a hard gaze.

“Would it kill you to take my word and just follow the script I gave you, moron?” Romeo finally reprimands. Though, he sounds almost nice compared to how he usually berates.

“How the hell was I supposed to know that ‘buddy’ would set that weirdo off?” You argue. “You really know some odd people.”

“...You should be grateful I was using the EITS to watch over you,” Romeo spats, his arms folded over his chest. 

“It's okay, I would have karate chopped him,” You insist, holding your arms out in a playful representation of what you imagine a proper karate pose would look like. 

“Don't make me laugh,” Romeo starts, though the agitation in his tone tells you he's not actually in a laughing kind of mood. “You couldn't even peel that pig's fingers off of you!”

You pivot your body to face him, leaning your cheek on the back of the couch. “You worried about little old me?”

“Worried…?” Romeo repeats, his intense gaze burning a hole through you. “The only one who should be worried is that weasel. So long as you are in my LOS, no one will touch you.”

You feel your cheeks burn at Romeo's words. “Uhm… line of sight?”

“Obviously.”

“Geez. Can’t tell if you sound delusional, or romantic,” You mutter, averting your gaze to a random spot on the couch. 

Romeo scoffs. “I said it exactly as I meant it. Attributing further sentiment is a waste of time.”

You laugh a bit, in spite of yourself. “Yeah, don't I know it. I'm getting ahead of myself, sorry Boss.”

“You should be. Now make up for it by canceling your extracurricular plans this week to work for me.” Romeo's lips peel into a devilish grin as he makes the absurd request. 

“That hardly seems like a fair shake,” You say with a snort. “What are you gonna do when I'm not around one day?”

Romeo's expression slips into a puzzled one. “What do you mean?”

“Well, one day I'm gonna return home if I break my curse. I doubt Darwick intends on giving me permanent residence here. I'll have to help you find someone to replace me when that happens,” You explain, flashing him a bittersweet smile. “You forget?”

Romeo frowns, eyeing you dubiously. “I don't plan on forking my assistant over so easily.”

“I didn't realize that you had any real say in it,” You tease. “Are you going to convince Hyde that I will be a valuable asset for the foreseeable future?”

“If that's what it comes to. That DOF owes me anyhow, always nagging at the most inconvenient of times!” Romeo pauses, holding your gaze. “...Don't tell me you actually have been looking forward to going back to your mundane life?”

Did you? 

Maybe in some ways. Though, Darkwick and the people in it have become your second home. Initially it wasn't a choice, but for the moment you wouldn't trade it away. Not yet. 

“...There are things I miss. People,” You admit, doing your best not to sound like a sad sack. 

“Like who?” Romeo persists, the frustrated look on his face not budging.

“Family and friends,” You reply vaguely. “I miss the normalcy sometimes. The routine, being able to put time into things that aren't important, and going out when I want with whoever.”

Romeo clicks his tongue irritably. “...What a stupid sentiment. You can basically have all that here. Why not just stay here and visit there?”

You snicker at his persistence. This might be the most interest that the Sinostra vice-captain ever showed in how you feel. Though, the bar is still low considering he's using that information to try and manipulate your actions.

“Why not just visit me if I can't stay here?” You counter. 

“I have far more important things to do.” 

You sigh, feigning a wistful expression. “Well, that's alright. I guess I'll just invite Kaito over.”

“What…?” Romeo sits forward, his fuchsia eyes glaring daggers at you. “You intend to let that blubbering fool into your home alone?!”

“Sure, why not?” You ask, your lips curling into a coy smirk.

“That leech still owes me money! If he's around you with that much freedom the hormonal fool will spend my cash impulsively,” Romeo explains.

“Oh, right…” You mumble, wearing a pensive expression. “...Then I guess Alan could visit.”

“That behemoth will cause a mess bumbling around in your dinky home,” Romeo argues.

“Hm… Towa, surely.”

“Have you lost your mind? Do you have flood insurance?!”

“Okay, Boss. Tell me– who is suitable for me to invite into my home?” You ask, stifling a laugh. 

“No one,” Romeo answers with conviction. “So stop considering it, BB.”

You sigh. “You know this ongoing territorial Boss bit is totally gonna scare away any potential love interests for me in the future.” 

“Good,” Romeo remarks impassively, narrowing his eyes at you. “Let there be no other distractions.”

“That's totally not fair. Unless you're planning on doing the charity work of being my boyfriend, I think I'll pass,” You retort, puffing your cheeks. “As a hopeless romantic, there's some things I won't sacrifice.”

“I will do it,” Romeo declares pointedly. 

Your eyes widen and you lift your head from the back cushion of the couch, gawking in disbelief. “...What?”

The vice-captain's expression is serious. Romeo's words are not to be taken lightly. 

“I said I'll do it, idiot,” Romeo insists. “But I will write up a list of guidelines you must follow consistently in regards to hygiene and skin care routines. And for outings together you will not give me any push back when I select your outfits, or how I choose to style your hair. And you must be prompt when I invite you out, no excuses.”

You gape at him in shock. “...You're serious?”

“Does it seem like I'm joking, nitwit?” Romeo snaps. 

“Okay… what about, uh…” Your cheeks turn bright red, you can just feel it. “Intimacy? Physical touch? Is that really something you'd be open to…?”

“So long as you're not filthy, I will accomodate,” Romeo answers, like it's the simplest question in the world. 

“Er… But is that something you want or just something you'd be willing to do just to keep me here?” You prod, brows tented. 

Romeo gives you a prickly stare. “Obviously, my intention is to keep you here.”

Ouch. 

There's a couple ways you could interpret that, if you think hard enough about it. But since it wasn't the answer you were looking for, it was difficult to not take personal. You weren't particularly interested in trading intimacy with someone who just wanted you around for business purposes. Even if it seemed like it could be fun, it would inevitably be a disaster in the long run. But it was Romeo, what did you expect?

Shifting your gaze off to the side, you speak in a near whisper “...I'm sorry, that's not really something I'm interested in. I'm gonna have to pass on this one. I like you and all, but I think this is seriously gonna blow if I get attached to you romantically, ya know?”

Romeo stares at you pensively. Even as you shoot up from your seat seconds later. 

“I'm gonna head home now!” You announce, somehow managing to keep your voice steady. “You can call me whenever you need me in the morning though, since there's no classes tomorrow.”

Just as you wave Romeo off and turn heel, an arm snakes around your waist, pulling you backwards.

“W-Woah…!”

In the blink of an eye, you're sitting back on the couch, with your thighs overlapping Romeo's. The Sinostra vice-captain is gripping one of your wrists and his left arm is looped around your backside.

You stare up at him in surprise, and he's glaring daggers back at you. His pretty lips pressed into a thin line. 

“I cannot believe you have the audacity to reject me,” Romeo says, his jaw clenched as if he's struggling to maintain his composure. 

“Hey, reject?” You echo, your eyes wide like saucers. “T-That's not my intention.”

The vice-captain's eye twitches in vexation. “Not your intention? How else could I possibly interpret that?! Do you have any idea how lucky you should feel that the thought even crossed my mind, THD?”

“I do feel lucky,” You argue, your brow creasing. “I-I just don't think the way we feel about each other is the same.”

“If that's the case or not, what difference does it make? There is no one better suited for you, I can assure you that,” Romeo asserts. 

Heat rises to your cheeks at the bold statement. You open your mouth, but find yourself grappling with your brain and heart to the point where nothing slips out. 

“Is there someone else? Is that what this is about? One of the fools you rattled off earlier? Do tell me their name,” Romeo rants. Despite the vice-captain's voice not being as elevated as it usually is, his expression isn't any less venomous. “If you try to weasel your way out of it, I will find out eventually.”

“No…!” You nearly shout in disbelief. “C'mon, you're being completely unreasonable! How would there be? I'm with you during most of my free time!”

Romeo lifts a skeptical eyebrow. “On four separate occasions this week, you were spending time with other ghouls. And I've seen the way those Frostheim fools look at you!”

You let out an exasperated sigh. “Seriously, Romeo it's not like that…!”

“Don't! Don't call me that…!” The vice-captain tears his gaze from yours, his eyes settling somewhere on your lap. “...Take some responsibility, BB! You're the one that started this shit with that idiotic kiss nonsense!”

Huh…?

“That's what this is about…?” You ask, your jaw slack as you stare at Romeo's conflicted expression.

As far as you could tell, the Sinostra vice-captain had been completely flippant about the interaction. Was that really the catalyst for his possessive behavior? Your attempt to mess with him?

“It infuriates me,” Romeo starts, his posture tense. “You had remnants of sweat on your face, and you looked as if you just rolled out of bed, putting no thought into your appearance whatsoever. Other than that moisturizer, there was no fragrance lingering on you.”

You give Romeo a tired look, wondering where he could possibly be going with this. 

“...It infuriates me that I didn't hate it,” Romeo admits, his grip on your wrist tightening marginally as the confession leaves his mouth.

Oh…

“...You mean you like the way my natural skin smells?” You ask, eyeing the vice-captain curiously. 

“Must I repeat myself in another language, fool?” Romeo snaps, his steely eyes darting up at you. 

It wasn't that unusual to like the smell of someone's natural oils. But you suppose for someone as finicky about scents and hygiene as Romeo could be, it was probably pretty important to him. 

A giggle slips past your lips involuntarily.

“And what about this is so funny…?!” Romeo snaps. 

You smile at him, finding the beautiful ghoul in front of you particularly endearing right now. “That's just the best compliment I think I may ever receive from you. And it's super common. Science might say that it means you're attracted to my pheromones. You're so cute.”

“Cute?” Romeo repeats, looking at you like you've lost your mind. “I have been reduced to falling prey to primitive behavior that does nothing to serve me! There's nothing ‘cute’ about this, FFS!”

So, Romeo likes your smell so much that it's been making him act like a possessive basket case all week? That explanation didn't entirely track.

“Do you like me, Boss?” You ask, sporting a lopsided smile. 

“Like? Who fucking knows,” Romeo grumbles, leaning back into the couch as his grip falls from your wrist. 

“Well…” You look down at your legs that were still on top of his. “I gotta say, I don't think I would have ever thought you'd let me be on you like this. You want me to move?”

Romeo doesn't give you a verbal reply, but the arm around your waist stiffens. 

“No, then?” You prod.

“You're not leaving. Not like that. Not now,” Romeo decides. The vice-captain looks at you like he's daring you to go against his orders.

“I won't go if you don't want me to,” You reassure.

Romeo must believe you because his arm relaxes slightly. 

“...Hey,” You start. “If you're not sure how you feel, can I try something? Maybe it will help you determine your feelings. And then we can discuss the whole dating thing again.”

“...Try what?” Romeo asks, raising an eyebrow. 

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for a potential adverse reaction. “Okay, here me out. And feel free to throw me off for my brazen stupidity if you're against it…”

“Spit it out, idiot.” 

“Okay, okay. Can I kiss you…?” You blurt out, wincing preemptively.

Romeo stares at you with an unreadable gaze, and your stomach flips with anticipation.

“...Fine.”

“Oh, for real?” 

“Do it before I change my mind, BB,” Romeo demands. 

“Oh, yes. Of course. So, uh… like before?” You meant the cheek kiss. Hopefully the vice-captain would catch on to save you the embarrassment of explaining.

Romeo clicks his tongue. “Do I have to hold your hand through everything? Just do it.”

Okay, cheek kiss to be safe. That shouldn't be too intimidating. You've kissed your friends and family members cheeks, nothing but a cinch!

You sit up and inch your face closer towards Romeo's. It doesn't help your nerves that he's staring at you expectantly. Has this guy ever been on the receiving end of a kiss before? Couldn't he at least close his staggeringly pretty eyes so your heart would stop pounding against your chest like a jackhammer?

Knowing how bothered Romeo would be if you chickened out now helps you regain your composure. You shut your eyes and close the distance, pressing your lips against his devastatingly plush cheek. After an appropriate length of time, you pull back and assess the damage. 

Romeo shoots you an unimpressed look. “What? That's it?”

You twiddle your thumbs nervously, an awkward laugh spilling from your mouth. “Uh… what, you want me to do it again?”

“Yes! Would you like me to write it in crayon?” Romeo snaps, the faintest hint of pink dusting his cheeks. 

“Okay, okay!” You impulsively reach for Romeo's gloved hand, intertwining your fingers with his. 

The vice-captain shows no sign of protest at the gesture, so you proceed with the second kiss, this time landing your lips closer to his temple. 

By the time you pull back, Romeo looks nothing short of impatient. “Are you so caught up in the role you played earlier that you forgot we aren't actually related? Is this supposed to entice me?”

You puff your cheeks, your face burning from his criticism. “You're such a turd! You really want me to kiss you for real?”

That's the only conclusion you could draw from the vice-captain's words. If your lips were even slightly chapped, or breath even a little off there would surely be hell to pay. You don't recall eating anything sinister. 

You don't have time to make any further advances, nor does he grant you the courtesy of a verbal reply. The arm around your waist effortlessly draws you closer, to where you're sitting fully on the vice-captain's lap. Romeo pulls his hand from your grip, drawing it towards your shoulder. 

You nearly gasp when you feel the wandering hand ghost over the expanse of your collar bone. “What are you–” 

“Quiet,” Romeo interjects softly. His fuchsia eyes rake over you in admiration as his fingertips travel upwards towards your neck. You feel his thumb gently brush against the length of your throat, eventually tickling your jawline. 

“Exactly as I pictured it,” Romeo murmurs vaguely. “...Don't wear this around anyone else.”

“...W-Well, to be fair I was already seen in this by countless people,” You argue, struggling to hold his gaze. If someone would have told you just hours before that the Sinostra vice-captain would be leering so suggestively at you right now, you'd surely laugh in their face. 

Just what did you do to catch the attention of the most self-assured and vain man you'd ever met in your life?

“A severe lapse in judgment on my part. Don't anticipate it happening again,” Romeo retorts bitterly. 

Without warning, the Sinostra vice-captain cups his hand against your neck and pulls you forward. Your eyes flutter shut unconsciously and the warmth of his lips reach yours. 

In spite of the intense nervousness you felt just moments prior, the kiss has you melting on impact. Maybe it's the way his touch is so characteristically deliberate, yet delicate at the same time. You knew his lips were soft, it's obvious at just a glance. But it was clear to you now that having them pressed against your own is far more satisfying than you could have ever imagined. 

You wrap your arms around Romeo's neck in your mindless search for a closer touch. A passing insecure thought that you're doing too much materializes, but is quickly quelled when you feel his lips part and reconnect with yours again. You feel a hand grip the side of your hip, his digits going in for a tight squeeze. Involuntarily, you whimper against Romeo's mouth.

The Sinostra vice-captain pulls back from the kiss, his face beautifully flushed. His right thumb strokes the contour of your jaw languidly as he surveys you with half-lidded eyes. “I've made up my mind.”

You feel completely malleable under his deceptively soft gaze. Drawing your arms back ever so slightly, you press him further. “...And?”

Romeo regards you voraciously, his lips curling into a smirk. “You're mine, (Y/N). It would be in your best interest to remember that.”

[hottpinkpenguin]

My request for the Peaky Blinders event: Tommy Shelby + A + B 🖤

A/n: yayyyyy my first Peaky Blinders request!!! thank you @astrangegirlsmind <3 hope it scratches the itch

Ask Me Stay - Tommy Shelby X Bodyguard Fem!Reader Word Count: 4331 Content warnings: non-canon, canon-typical violence, Arthur being Arthur, swearing, references to WWI, alcohol/drinking, implied smut, fade to black

There weren’t many females in your business. In fact, you were the only female bodyguard you’d ever met. Initially, it worked to your advantage: no one expected the full-figured beauty with the expensive silk gown and the pearl necklace to have two Brownings strapped to the inside of her thighs, or a switchblade sewn into the suede of her clutch. You looked much more the part of an expensive consort than a bodyguard, and it was a role you played well, leaning into the role of glib, can’t-hold-her-liquor arm candy. No one expected a woman to know how to slice a throat, throw a punch, or pick a lock. But after the element of surprise was lost in a market, that was it. No one was quick to forget you, and your business was only as good as your anonymity. So, once you’d worked a handful of lucrative jobs in any one area, you moved on. One town, one city, to the next. You’d crossed international lines, too: America to Ireland to England. Adjusting your accent had taken work, but it had been essential. The longer you could blend in as a local, the longer you could stay in any given place. 

Normally, a bodyguard’s dependability was a selling point, and their reputation was something they honed over years and years of diligent work in one area. You didn’t have that luxury. For all your gifts and guile, if you stayed too long anywhere, you ended up with a target on your back. You were too easy to pick out once people knew what to look for. At first, bouncing from one market to the next had proven near-disastrous for your business. Only able to take on a few jobs in a city, without a reputation and name recognition to trade on, you’d been forced to take meager, shit-paying gigs for washed up nobodies. The kind of men - because they were always men - who treated you like the escort you pretended to be. Even though you weren’t there to warm their cocks, you were there to save their hides. They didn’t seem to care much about that, especially after a few tall glasses of booze.

But then, you’d gotten wise. A few lucky hires later, your father had wised up to the importance of referrals. If your clients couldn’t re-hire you, you’d ask them to refer you somewhere. Usually to a contact in the business, based out of a different city. That suited you just fine, for reasons already discussed. Once this took off, the money started flowing in. You were able to buy better sidearms. Spend more on expensive gowns and jewelry to look the part. Your clientele started to ratchet up in status, in stakes, and in payoff.

It didn’t really all add up until one night in December, right before the Christmas holiday, when you’d been enjoying a rare evening off with your father. You’d been stretched out on the couch while he was pouring over the accounts, as usual, when he sat back from the open ledger with a shocked sigh. 

“I don’t fucking believe it,” he murmured under his breath. 

You’d swiveled your head around, recognizing the look of shock on his face as he rubbed his salt-and-pepper stubble (more salt than pepper these days, you realized) in distant thought.

“What is it?” you’d asked, bracing for bad news. Usually your father only commented on the accounts ledger when something was wrong. 

“You’ve got a perfect record, Little Doe.” He turned to you, using a childhood nickname he reserved for only when the two of you were alone, far from the eyes and ears of potential clients. “Perfect.”

You hadn’t really understood his point until the next client meeting, which happened to be the very one you were sitting in now. 

All the politicians, gangsters, and celebrities you’d been paid to protect: not a single injury among them. The countless expensive payloads you’d been paid to guard - diamonds, cash, drugs, you name it - not a single loss. Six years in the business without a single issue? Now that was priceless. 

You listened as your father made this point to the potential client, his eyebrows arching slightly as he contemplated a six year, no blemishes selling point. Thomas Shelby was a man of few words, preferring instead to sip dispassionately on a glass of Irish whiskey and let your father make the sale. You watched him carefully, smoothing your face into a mask of disinterest that matched his. Tommy’s reputation preceded him, as did yours, apparently. You and your father hadn’t been in Birmingham more than a month before the leader of the infamous Peaky Blinders had darkened your doorstep, cash in hand for a job he said needed the utmost discretion and impeachable talent.

“Your cost is steep,” he commented drily as he reviewed the bill your father had slid across the cherry wood poker table.

“I assure you, Mr. Shelby, our cost matches our service.” It was your father’s usual line, and, to his credit, he let it land with as much weight as ever. You’d noticed he was overselling Thomas Shelby - sounding a little too eager, maybe even bordering on desperate - which you knew was a reflection more of your father’s eagerness to secure the goodwill and the good referral of a well-connected gangster versus any real financial pressure to land the job. You were practically drowning in excess cash, a problem you’d been totally unacquainted with until quite recently. Thanks to your father’s astute management, savings were being made to ensure that the two of you wouldn’t have to clamor for gigs for quite a while. You doubted very much that, if it weren’t for Thomas Shelby’s name, your father wouldn’t have given him a sit down at all, preferring instead to celebrate the upcoming new year alone with you in relative peace and prosperity.

Thomas Shelby took another sip of his whisky as he scanned the receipt. His eyes lazed over the figures, then up to your father’s stoic expression, and then over to you. You were always present for client meetings, but didn’t speak until the contract was signed. Typically, you didn’t have to. All that was required of you to seal a deal was a coquettish smile, and maybe a timely demonstration of your skills (you’d left more than a few bullet holes in the walls of the flats you rented and in the Fedoras of your potential clients). 

“I assume this is your expensive daughter?” Tommy Shelby’s voice oozed with something halfway between derision and curiosity. You weren’t sure whether to be insulted or intrigued. Your father nodded, motioning for you. You rose from the chair in the corner of the room and stepped forward, giving Mr. Shelby a small nod of greeting.

“And I assume you typically play the role of what… a whore, when you’re working?” You fought down the rising heat that threatened to stain your cheeks. You heard your father clear his throat and fidget self-consciously. 

“I can dress for whatever part you would prefer, Mr. Shelby,” you replied coolly. “Most of my clientele are men of means, and a pretty woman dangling from their arm is a common sight. Makes it easy to blend in and do my job. If you’re unaccustomed to having beautiful women entertain you, then I’m sure we can reach a different arrangement.” 

Thomas Shelby’s expression gave away nothing as your sly insult hung in the air. You suspected he knew as well as you did that your words were rather empty, however clever your retort. You had to force your eyes not wander away from his, as alluring his sharp cheekbones and full lips may be. He held your gaze, eyes narrowing ever so slightly as if he could read your attraction to him. You lifted your chin, halfway between a challenge and an invitation. You wondered if you imagined a small quirk at the corners of his mouth, as if he were fighting against a smile. 

“What my daughter means is that she-”

“Done.” 

You hadn’t realized you’d been holding your breath until you felt your shoulders relax with your exhale at his words. Your father had been in such a rush to save what he’d felt certain was a meeting gone sideways that he fell short of words for a few moments, his mouth closing and opening without any sound. Thomas Shelby rose, all brusque and business-like, as he withdrew a hefty wad of cash from his overcoat and casually tossed a handful of bills on the table.

“Your advance,” he commented offhandedly as he finished his drink with a hearty gulp. 

“When’s the job?” you asked hurriedly as he made towards the door. He hesitated briefly, hand on the doorknob, and even though he didn’t look back at you you felt your skin crawl under his attention.

“I’ll find you when I need you.” 

The door opened, a brief blustering December breeze jostling its way inside before Thomas Shelby stepped out into the Birmingham night and closed the door behind him.

You exchanged a stunned glance with your father. He was sifting through the bills left on the table. 

“He’s paid the entire balance,” your father murmured in a mix of disbelief and suspicion. For your part, you weren’t surprised, although you barely registered your father’s words. You found yourself peaking out into the dark street, pulling back the curtains just slightly. Down the empty road, you could just barely make out a dark silhouette retreating into the late night blackness. Only the orange-gold end of his cigar betrayed Thomas Shelby’s location. You cracked a half-smile as you watched him vanish around a corner, his words echoing in your ears:

I’ll find you when I need you. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Four Months Later

“You’re fuckin’ jokin’.”

“Always such a way with words, Arthur.”

Tommy gave his older brother a withering glare as he motioned for you to step out of the darkened doorway. The glass-windowed door closed behind you with a heavy thud, bumping you deeper into what could only be described as a War Room. The Shelby brothers - Arthur, Tommy, and John - plus a stern looking dark-haired woman that the boys referred to as “Polly” were seated in plush, leather-backed chairs around a dark cherry-wood table. Surrounding the table on all four walls were maps, each of them marked up with pen marks, small red pins, and thread connecting points too small for you to read from this distance in a dizzying array of carefully laid out networks. The smoke in the room was so thick you wondered how your eyes weren’t watering. 

Aside from Tommy, the other three pairs of eyes sifted you over with suspicion, surprise, and no small amount of scorn. Tommy studiously avoided your gaze - and those of the others, you noted - and instead stood at the head of the table, bent over a large ledger. He’d barely exchanged a word with you since showing up unannounced at your doorstep two hours ago with the curt instruction to “pack for three days”. Aside from telling you that you were London-bound with his eldest brother, Arthur, you didn’t know anything about your assignment. 

“Introduce yourself, darlin’, we’re waitin’.” Polly’s voice was husky and dripping with hilarity, as if she couldn’t believe her eyes. You doubted she was used to seeing another woman in this room, let alone a non-Shelby woman. 

“The name’s y/l/n,” you replied, clearing your throat a bit before continuing. “Mr. Shelby engaged my services several months ago, on retainer.” 

The youngest brother, John, chuckled wickedly and lifted an eyebrow at Tommy, still glued to the ledger book.

“That so, eh Tommy? Hope you didn’t shell out too much from the coffers!” He turned towards you, raking his eyes up one side and down the other in an obvious appraisal. “You always had an eye for a bargain, Tommy.” Your eyes narrowed at his insult. He shook his head and scoffed at you. “Since when do we make decisions about protection without consulting the family?” he pressed on. 

From across the haze, Arthur roared up out of his seat, practically vibrating with rage. His complexion was mottled under his patchy mustache and his eyes were bleary with whiskey. “I’ll tell you when, Johnnny Boy! Since Thomas fuckin’ Shelby elected himself the fuckin’ king of the Blinders is when!” 

Tommy didn’t give any indication that he’d heard either of his brothers’ outbursts before he replied back in a bored drone, “since the family is what we need protection from, in the first place.”

A breath of quiet descended over the uproarious Shelby clan as Tommy’s words sunk in. You weren’t entirely sure what was so revelatory about his declaration, but you found yourself holding your breath as your eyes darted from Arthur’s precarious dance on the edge of apoplexy, to the cold glare of Polly, to John’s self-congratulatory smirk, and lastly settling on Tommy’s ever-confident, disinterested face. Much to your surprise, he shot you a subtle wink you were certain only you could see. You felt your shoulders relax a half inch. 

“What the fuck does that mean?” Arthur’s whisper shook with fury.

“You know what it means, Arthur, don’t be obtuse.” Tommy lit a cigar and gently brushed his dark hair out of his face. He leaned against the table, retucking the hem of his crisply ironed shirt (impeccably well-tailored, you noticed idly as your eyes traced the seam up the side of his body) into the waist of his pants. You squirmed at the sight, suddenly lost from the conversation swirling around you.

“What are you playing at, boy?!” 

Tommy inhaled deeply from his fresh cigar as he fixed Arthur with the expression of an exasperated parent. 

“I’m not playing at anything, Arthur. I’m trying to make sure that the investments you’ve insisted on handling are executed properly and without incident.” 

“Incident?! What kind of fucking incidents are you expecting?”

“The kind of incident that usually starts with you being drunk at 10 am, like today.”

“I ain’t fuckin’ dru-”

“Arthur, don’t bother denying it, we all know. It smells like a goddamn distillery in here.”

John and Polly watched the volley with interest and a hint of fear. For every fraction of composure that Arthur lost, it seemed Tommy only grew more confident and cutthroat, bearing down on his brother’s insecurity with a viciousness that made you realize why he’d earned himself such a reputation on the streets of Birmingham.

“I do not need a fucking wet nurse!” 

Shit. You barely missed the whizzing whiskey glass that Arthur launched at the side of your face. An impressively accurate throw for a man that both you and Tommy Shelby had written off as a messy, 10am drunk. 

The glass collided with the door you’d entered through, shattering itself and the pane of frosted glass on the door in a rain of shards. Instinctively, you covered your face, just in time to feel the stinging bites of a few fragments dig in the skin on the back of your hand. 

The room erupted in a brawl before you’d risen from your crouch. Your hand had reflexively found its way to the butt of your pistol, diving into what looked like a pocket on the outside of your skirt, but was actually a split seam that allowed you direct access to the holstered guns you kept on your thighs at all times. Tommy Shelby had been faster. Before you’d been able to draw your weapon and fire a warning shot towards the eldest Shelby, Tommy had dove across the table at him, his hands wringing the collar of his shirt as the two collided with the back wall. A few of the intricate maps fell from their perches. Arthur’s chair tipped over with a heavy thud. Polly shrieked, John was yelling and trying to insert himself between the two. You were surprised once again by the accuracy of Arthur’s arm as he landed a few well-made punches against Tommy’s face. Tommy, for his part, responded agilely, wrenching Arthur up from the floor and pinning him against the table, his free hand drawn back for a haymaker. Polly’s voice ratcheted up another octave as she attached herself to Tommy’s fist in a weak attempt to stop him. John had wrapped his thick arms around Tommy’s midsection and was trying - futilely - to wrestle brother off brother. Arthur was taunting Tommy, his meaning lost to fury-fueled growls and obscenities, his voice gargled underneath Tommy’s choking grip. A trickle of blood had made its way down Tommy’s face from his nose and was beginning to stain his shirt collar.

Your shot split the chaos clean in two. An eerie quiet descended over the scene as the four frozen Shelby’s looked up at you as if they’d forgotten you were there. The bullet hole you’d left in the cherry-wood table half an inch from Arthur’s left ear smoldered with a thin trail of smoke.

“It looks like Arthur isn’t the only one who needs minding around here,” you commented coolly as you spun your Browning around your finger in a flashy show. You’d never been able to resist a little showmanship when it came to your guns. 

Whether it was your chastising or the sudden realization of just how out-of-hand this family meeting had gotten, you couldn’t be sure. But you saw the moment that Tommy Shelby’s eyes shuttered up. He buttoned away his rage with a self-conscious clearing of his throat as he straightened his tie. He lay off Arthur, who sprang up like an animal released from a trap. He eyed you warily, but looked properly reprimanded. Without much fuss, he grabbed his brown newsboy cap from the floor, smacking off the dust on his knee, and exited hurriedly. There was a noticeable hush on the gambling floor outside, where the Shelbys’ main book-rigging operation was headquartered. You could tell that whoever was out there - about twenty men, from what you remembered upon entering - was trying mightily not to make more of a scene than what was already done. 

John and Polly both slunk back to their chairs, looking at each other and then at Tommy and finally at you as like scolded pupils waiting to be dismissed. Tommy nodded at them absently and they both left, daggers shooting from their eyes at you. You didn’t miss the note of begrudging respect in Polly’s exceptionally brief nod as she closed the door with its busted pane of glass behind her. Leaving you and Thomas Shelby alone. 

You waited for him to speak, although you weren’t entirely sure he would. He had begun busying himself with re-hanging the maps that had been dislodged by the brother-on-brother melee of a few moments before. Which meant his back was turned to you. You watched as he wiped at his bloody nose with a handkerchief, dabbing away the trail of blood that had stained his chin and neck, before shoving the soiled square of fabric into his pants pocket. 

“Please forgive our manners, Miss y/l/n.” Thomas Shelby’s voice was so quiet you had to strain to hear him. You sank softly into one of the leathered chairs, swiping away some stray hairs from your forehead. 

“It’s quite alright, Mr. Shelby,” you replied softly. “Families are complicated. Doing business with them, even more so. Trust me, I know.” Your mind flashed to a few memories of rafter-shaking shouting matches with your father from earlier days in your career, when the money flowed less freely and the gigs were fewer and farther between. 

“It’s not alright, actually. I’m rather thoroughly embarrassed by my decorum… lack thereof, I should say.” Tommy turned towards you, still unable to raise his gaze from the floor. “My brother, Arthur. He’s a… he hasn’t been the same. Since the war. No one really has…” Tommy’s voice trailed off into a fog of memories, his eyes clouding over like you’d seen in so many others who’d seen the trenches of Europe. You waited, patiently. He resurfaced with a shiver a few moments later, half-turning towards you.

“Arthur needs more minding than I can give him, at this present moment. Besides, no man wants his baby brother acting as his keeper. I thought… well, I thought a beautiful woman like you would make a more… fitting partner for my brother’s business meetings.”

You felt your neck and cheeks redden at the compliment, your gaze dropping to your lap where you were fidgeting with your hands. Stop that, your inner voice chided as you clasped your hands together. You’re acting like a damn schoolgirl. 

“I guess I didn’t… I didn’t properly anticipate Arthur’s reaction. I should have addressed the topic with him first. Privately. Not in front of family. Or guests.” Tommy looked at you, sipping what was left in John’s abandoned whiskey glass down with a small grimace.

“You seem to have a great deal on your mind, Mr. Shelby,” you offered in conciliation. “Mistakes happen. To the best of us.” 

A moment of quiet descended on the two of you. Tommy was fidgeting with his shirt again in what you realized was a nervous tic. 

“Besides, Mr. Shel-”

“Tommy. Please. Call me Tommy.” He cut you off with an insistence that was so candid it felt almost intimate. Your throat went dry for a moment, but you forced yourself to swallow and nod. 

“Besides, Tommy. I am a woman who can take care of herself.” You reached across the table to place a pointed finger on the bullethole you’d left on its surface. Tommy followed your motion, chuckling at your quip. 

“Yes, you do seem to be… rather skilled at handling yourself.”

“My talents lie primarily in handling others, actually.” Normally, you’d have the wherewithal to deliver a double entendre like that with confidence, but this time the words slipped out before you had a moment to appreciate their subtext. Your flush instantly deepened as Tommy let out a surprised chuckle, his face splitting into what you realized was the first smile you’d seen him wear since you’d met. If it weren’t for the horribly grounding nag of humiliation, you were quite certain the sight would have melted you on the spot.

“Well, skilled handler or not, I owe you an apology. I put you in harm’s way, needlessly, and thrust you into the middle of a dynamic you never should have had to see. It was careless. I make a point of not being careless, Miss y/l/n. I swear to you, it won’t happen again.” 

His voice turned raw  and dark with sincerity, his cheeks reddening with a faint flush. He ran a hand raggedly through his dark hair, a few pieces falling haphazardly loose from his usual coiffure to hang roguishly across his forehead. You had to force yourself not to sigh with a forceful want. 

Rising quickly from your seat, suddenly acutely aware of your own awkwardness and in a rush to leave, you bowed graciously in his direction as you began making your exit. “I am packed and ready to go, sir, at your order. I believe I’ll bring my things to the Garrison down the corner - that’s yours, isn’t it, sir? I’ll wait there for further instruction.” 

“Please, y/l/n, that isn’t necess-”

“I can see you need your priva-”

“I’d much rather you stayed clo-”

“I’m no more than a few hundred steps, Mr. Shelby, surely you don’t need me closer than th-”

“I’d much prefer if you sta-”

“Thank you, sir, for the job and the riveting morning, I’ll be waiting at the Garrison, as I sai-”

“Y/n.”

Tommy had tried to intercept you before getting to the door, but he’d had to settle for a gentle grasp on your forearm. The suddenness of the moment and the intimacy of the gesture caught both of you a bit by surprise. The way he spoke to you - as if some sort of internal need was pressing its way out of his body into the syllables of your name - caused your breath to tangle in your chest. 

“Don’t go.” His voice was so soft you wondered if you’d imagined it. Up this close to him, you could see the facets of blue in his eyes, like cold spring water or an early fall sky. You had the dizzying sensation that you might fall into him if you kept staring at his eyes, so you settled for dropping your eyes to where his hand was still snaked around your forearm, his grasp gentle but demanding. 

“I- Mr. Shelby, I really ought-”

“There’s much to discuss, with your assignment,” he murmured quickly, gently pulling you away from the door. “And it’s Tommy.” You allowed him to lead you back to your seat, part of your mind yelling about why you were trying to scamper away while the other half railed about the impropriety of the moment. Adhering to strict moral codes and boundaries with your clients had always been essential, no matter how heavy-handed your performance while on the job could be. The lines felt dangerously close to blurred at that very moment, but from the treacherous hammering of your heart against your ribs, you were quickly realizing that you were not very much bothered by that realization at all. 

“If you don’t want me to go, Tommy, just ask me to stay.” Another bold statement slipped out before you could grab the words back. This time, however, you found yourself plunging headfirst into the moment rather than balking at it. 

A wicked smile spread across his face as he leaned against the table across from you, crossing his arms across his chest and considering you as if seeing you for the first time. 

“Very well, y/n. Stay, won’t you?” That smoldering quiet voice again, practically making your toes curl then and there. 

“It’s my pleasure, Tommy.”

[pretendingtoknowhowtowrite]

TITLE: a hot shower

TAGS: Dean Winchester x female!reader, SMUT, 18+, sexual intercourse, anal, penetrative sex, oral sex, domDean, praising kink, sex in the shower, name-calling

SUMMARY: Dean comes home while you're taking a shower. You scream as you slip and he enters the bathroom, worried for your safety. Things get hotter in an instant.

Words count: 3.2 k

WARNING: just smut, be prepared. English isn't my first language, so... apologies.

Hot water run down your body. After weeks of cleaning yourself quickly in shitty motel bathrooms, you could finally take your time and relax with a long, hot, and steamy shower inside the bunker. The boys were out as FBI agents in a nearby city, so you could relax all alone. You started playing your favorite playlist before entering and now you were singing “Daddy cool” at the top of your lungs. Your singing was pretty bad, but you didn’t care at that moment, plus, the lyrics of that song were easy to sing so it wasn’t that bad. You were lathering soap on your body while humming the next song that started playing, it was “Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy)” and it made you giggle. That song was one of Dean’s favorites, it was silly, like him. You found yourself smiling while washing your body. Realizing that you were ridiculously smirking for a song you snapped out of it and grunted.

The hot water was running down your face and you sat down in the shower, “fuck, I’m so stupid” you said out loud. You knew you had feelings for Dean, and that they were growing bigger every day, but you were simply ignoring them. Dean was constantly messing around with other chicks, every night, you naturally thought that a relationship between the two of you was impossible, not to mention the awkward situation that it would create in your daily hunting jobs.

But you couldn’t help it, his continuous innuendos, his lips, his voice, his arms, and his fingers often kept you awake at night. Sometimes you passed in front of his room to go to the kitchen at night and heard his noises…his moans and his heavy breathing during the night. Those sloppy sounds melted your knees each time you heard them, and you often stopped by his man cave a couple of minutes before going to your room, completely forgetting about the beer you wanted from the kitchen.

You were squeaky clean already, but you remained in the shower a little longer, enjoying the warmness hitting your body, a bit aroused because of those memories. Suddenly you hear a voice shouting “Y/N, I’m home!”, it was Dean, just him though, “Sam is at the local library to do some nerd research, but the job is pretty easy” the husky voice continued. You didn’t answer right away because you were lost in thoughts, and the man added “Y/N! Are you home? Y/N!”. The second time he pronounced your name he sounded concerned, so you finally answered, yelling “YES! TAKING A SHOWER!”, he replied with an awkward mh-mh that was closer than the words he pronounced before, he seemed…behind your door(?), he probably heard the water running and went towards that sound. The next song started playing: “Cherry Pie” and the moment the lyrics started you heard Dean singing “She’s my cherry pie / cool drink of water, such a sweet surprise/taste so good make a grown man cry / sweet cherry pie!”, he was so good at singing, his voice was so sweet … husky, and it sent a shiver down your spine. He chuckled and added, “Fuck, I love that song! You’ve got good taste, Y/N”.

You let out a laugh and stood up, but the floor was soapy, and you slipped, letting out a scream that sounded much worse than what actually happened. Dean heard you screaming and kicked the door open, you were sitting on the shower floor again, rubbing your left hip as you hit it. The moment you realized that he was standing in front of you, with a worried look and that you were completely naked, well, the situation made your cheeks red, and a rush of blood reached your inner thighs at the same moment. “Are you okay?!” Dean almost shouted while looking at your naked body, searching for an injury. The realization of what he did suddenly hit him, and he looked away, his cheeks red with embarrassment. Silence pervaded the room for a few seconds, “I’m okay” you whispered and tried to cover your body with your arms “everything is fine, I just slipped, so can you please go out?” you finished to ask this and turned to face him again, noticing a wide tent on his tight jeans. Blood rushed towards your inner thighs again, you could feel that you were getting soaked down there. Dean was still looking away, “Do you really want me to go out right now?” he said with a hushed tone and a hinted smirk on his face. Your eyes wide open, looking at him, at his body and that tent. “Because you know” he added, “I hear you stopping by my room at night. One time I checked the time and you stayed there for 5 full minutes”. You bit your lip and remained silent, not knowing what to say. He turned to look at you and his gaze was so heavy on your soaked body. “What were you doing? Touching yourself while hearing my moans? Sometimes I even moved closer to the door so you could listen properly, you know?” he said with a grin while walking closer towards you. “So, let me ask you the question again: do you want me to walk out of that door?” he asked you, now in front of you as he opened the shower door and lowered down to look into your eyes. You were still pressing your arms against your breast to cover them and keeping your thighs shut to hide something. You looked into his eyes and whispered “N-no…please don’t go”. He grinned and went to pull the door over to keep the steam in, took off the white shirt, and went back to you. “Good girl” he said “Don’t lie to yourself. I could hear those moans from behind the door and you often helped me finish. They sounded so sweet and so desperate”, he took you up and lowered himself down to quickly check your left hip. “You’re gonna have a bruise there. Well maybe… not only in that spot after this” he said looking up at your face, with a smirk. He stood up and got closer to your face, your lips basically touching. You couldn’t stop looking at his eyes like they were magnets. He kissed you deeply and held your waist, sinking his hands in your skin. You let out a moan of pleasure the exact moment his tongue melted inside your mouth. Waves of warmth reached your pussy, you were a puddle down there. He stopped kissing you only to go for your neck, he started licking your neck and leaving his marks all over it, biting it softly and grunting while doing so.  Feeling Dean so eager to touch you melted you, melted your knees and your brain as you couldn’t think straight anymore. “baby, you should speak more” he said “use your big girl words and tell me what you dreamed about those nights”, he grinned and pressed his body against your wet one. You could feel his big bulge against your skin “I-I thought about you. I thought about how would it feel to have your fingers inside my – my tight cunt” you finally said, not believing that you confessed that. He giggled and went down on his knees, his face was now at the same level as your slit, he spread your pussy lips open and moaned as he saw how wet you were. He immediately found you’re already hardened clit and started circumnavigating it with his thick fingers. You let a moan escape your throat and tried to cover it with your hand. Dean reached for your wrist and let your mouth free “Oh no Baby, I wanna hear those moans” he added and proceed to stick out his tongue near your

cunt. He grabbed your thighs and spread your legs open. A satisfied moan came out of his mouth and he sunk his tongue inside your pussy. His hot and experienced tongue melted inside you and you couldn’t help but moan as he knew which spots to search for. He kept pinching and stroking your clit to hear your moans intensify. You could feel his tongue going up and down inside of you and he kept moving around. You started shaking and he started stroking your clit faster to make you cum while his tongue was inside of you. You did, you cummed and you were in pure bliss already. He took his tongue out and licked all your cunt one more time. “You taste so sweet” he said, almost growling, and stood up to kiss you. Your juices and his saliva melted inside your mouth, that was one of the sexiest things ever at that moment. As he kissed you he pushed two of his digits deep inside you and started searching for your g-spot. He reached it sooner than expected and you trembled and arched your back, resting your head against his shoulder. “here it is” he whispered in your ear, and started pushing and stroking it with his fingers, he added one more digit and a big moan escaped from your mouth. “Good girl, let yourself go for me, cum again for me… cum on my fingers” he added while keeping your body pressed to his. His sweat started to pervade the room and that smell sent you to heaven. You started moaning and shouting his name while trembling on his fingers. You could feel his bulge pressed against your stomach, all those feelings made you cum as he whispered your name in your ear, juices started dripping down your thighs, your knees started weakening and your pussy was twitching around his digits. He smiled at you and kissed you deeply. He took his fingers out, covered in your juices. He stared at them for a couple of seconds, grinning, and then sucked his fingers off while looking at you. That scene was so fucking arousing and you couldn’t help but whine “please Dean, more”. He grabbed you closer and started unbuttoning his pants which he quickly threw on the floor. He was in his boxers now, you could see the size of his bulge and the sticky precum drenching his underwear. He pressed his body against yours and turned on the hot water “you’re cold, let’s keep you warm. I don’t want you to catch a cold” He said and proceeded to kiss you while sliding his hands all around your body, caressing your breasts and holding your waist. Hot water was running down your bodies and Dean started pinching your already hard nipples, he started kissing your neck again and slowly moved down, he started sucking your tits, pinching them, biting them, and leaving marks on your body. You couldn’t help but moan in pleasure, your legs started shaking again. Dean’s hot dick was pressing against your waist. You went down on your knees to see it and because you couldn’t stand anymore. Once you were sitting down you pulled down his boxers, his cock firm against your face. You gasped as you saw it, the bulge was big but you didn’t think it was like that. He looked down at you and moved his hips towards you, slamming his hard cock against your cheeks, his precum stuck to your face. His smell and his moans were too much for you and you started sucking him off. In the beginning, you wrapped your tongue around his tip, and the taste of his precum pervaded your mouth. You were going slow and taking your time around his dick, but it was too slow for Dean. He started moving his hips and you felt his cock going down your throat, you moaned and your pussy was drenched again. He looked down at you moaning your name, swearing, and breathing heavily “Fuck, you’re so beautiful” he said when your eyes met, and you could feel him twitching inside your mouth. He moved harder than before, he was basically mouthfucking you, he started to hold your head between his huge hands, and he pushed you towards his body. You left out gripes of pleasure and felt your cunt burning, you wanted that but between your thighs.

You looked into his eyes while he was moving and he stopped “Oh Y/N, if you look at me like that, I’m gonna melt” he whined and let go of your face. He pulled his cock out of your mouth and lowered himself down to kiss you one more time. This time it was his juice and your saliva melting together in your passionate kiss. You got up and he followed you while holding your waist, not letting you go for an instant. He turned you around and you rested on the shower wall, he could see your back now, he stared at your ass and folded it with his hands, spreading your ass cheeks apart, you let a moan out, “Dean, please stop teasing me” you whimpered, almost begging him to put it in. He slid his hand down on your back, reached for your butt, slapped it, and then quickly put his fingers in your pussy again, just for a couple of seconds, and then pushed one digit in your ass. “Fuck” you exclaimed while moaning. You whimpered but the pain mixed with the excitement was so arousing, you would have taken him everywhere at that moment. He kept moving his finger in and outside your ass and whispered in your ear “Oh sweetheart, but I love seeing you getting so excited for me. And I didn’t even shove my dick inside of you yet”, you could feel his grin against your ear and he bit your earlobe as he thrust another finger inside you. You moaned his name and felt juices dripping down your thighs. Dean could have done anything to you, you would have accepted it. “I really don’t know in which hole I should put it, which one Y/N?” he said in a hushed tone. “P-Please Dean” you replied, “in my cunt” you said between one moan and another. He sighed, “Since you asked it so kindly, I guess I will baby girl, but I’m gonna fill you up even here later” he added while pushing another digit in your ass. You let out a scream and moaned deeply. He took his fingers out and pushed his tip against your pussy lips, feeling how hot and wet you were. “You really want this, uh?” he said giggling “tell me how much though.”. He was waiting for your response as he kept rubbing his tip against your cunt, up and down… slowly. “I’m begging you Dean; I really really want it inside” you whined while moving your hips. “Good girl” he growled and pushed his dick inside of you. Your cunt twitched the moment it felt his cock. “Fuck, you’re so tight for me” he said and started moving his hips while holding your waist. That pleasure was driving you crazy and you were moaning his name like a chant. You whispered “harder”, and his cock twitched a bit, his pace increased, and you started yelling instead of moaning. Every thrust was a moment of bliss but the second he started rubbing your clit while thrusting inside of you made you lose it.

You started trembling, shivers went down your spine and you screamed his name, your knees weak again in an instant. “You did so good, cumming around my cock” he told you and stopped moving “But we’re not finished yet” added. He pulled out his dick and started rubbing it against your ass again, slamming it against the line between your cheeks. He moaned and told you ”I don’t want to do this if you don’t feel like it. Just tell me Y/N”. his tip pressed against your ass. The pleasure and lust filled your mind, you turned your face to see his face, the water was dripping on it, and his mouth was open, breathing heavily, a desiring look on his face. “Oh fuck it” you said and lift your left leg so he could go on “just go slow at the beginning, ok?”. “Of course baby” he said with a jubilant tone, then he proceeded to slowly push his dick in your ass, giving it time to adjust to his width “you’re so tight. I’m gonna cum in minutes if it’s like this” he moaned and whimpered. A gasp and a choked scream left your mouth, it was painful but the thought of having him everywhere was so arousing that you simply couldn’t stop. He pushed in slowly and finally all his length was inside of you, “fuck” he kept moaning and started to slowly move in and out. Your moans became one and he started speeding up his pace. You could feel him twitching in your gut, he started holding your breast while moving his hips, but his hands quickly run down and reached your clit again, he started making eights on it and your legs started trembling. His cock inside of you, his fingers touching you, his breath echoing in your ear. It was too much. You were so close to cum again and so was he. He started thrusting inside of you faster, deeper, harder, and let out a moan, mumbling “I’m gonna cu-“, he couldn’t finish the sentence as you felt his hot semen filling you up. He kept moving and you felt his cum dripping down your tights, now working as a lube, he didn’t let go of your clit either, wanting you to cum one more time before stopping. He wanted to give you pleasure and that thought made you cum again, your legs were shaking once again. He finally stopped and rested his body against yours, panting heavily.  “Fuck” you both said, he pulled out and hugged you from behind, water running down your faces. The two of you were in pure bliss. “I- I think I love you” he mumbled in your ear while tightening the grip around your body. “I think so too” you whispered, not believing what just happened. You turned around and hugged him, he looked at you with a gentle smile and then added “Did I hurt you? I- I’m sorry, I got carried away and you were so beaut-“ you laid one finger against his lips “shush, it was unbelievable” you giggled and smiled at him. “We should probably take a shower now” he chuckled and took the soap in his hand, “Let me wash your back” he added. “Oh yes, we should” you replied with a smirk on your face, you turned on your back and he started lathering the soap. “Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy)” started playing again, and the playlist restarted. You laughed and Dean started to sing that dumb song. You rubbed his back clean after. You took care of each other, washing each other’s hair and rinsing the soap from your bodies.

That was one of the many times Dean Winchester and you had some alone time.

[mylovelies-docx]

Sorry, I Love You - Part 8

I apologize for not posting last week. How about this longer chapter to make up for it?

Plot: You and Bucky have a good thing going - best of friends that also have more than a little chemistry between the sheets. Everything is fine until you develop feelings for the man who doesn't want a relationship. What will happen when Bucky finds out?

C/W: First day of HYDRA work, social gatherings

Word Count: 2,270

Tag List: NOW CLOSED! If you'd like to keep up with this story, please follow my blog and turn on notifications! ❤️ you :)

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

The next morning dawned bright and chilly. You only know this because you happened to pass by a window covered in frost on your way to one of the HYDRA labs within the facility. 

Your first few hours on site had you running through various tests and exams to study your mental capacity and knowledge on the interest that HYDRA holds in the biology field. There was nothing shocking or unexpected that your new supervisors asked you, but the implications of what they expect from you sends shivers down your spine. You studied and memorized and read for weeks in preparation for this assignment last year, and you’re so glad that your brain retains this kind of information like a sponge – you’d have been disposed of on the spot if your background hadn’t checked out.

But now you’ve ‘officially’ joined HYDRA. The thought leaves a bad taste in your mouth, but you wash it down with the knowledge that what you’re doing is going to help the world by eliminating whatever disgusting and horrible work is being done here.

The plan is to spend as much time as it takes to gain HYDRA’s confidence in your abilities and allow you access to the higher level projects – the world-ending projects. This could take weeks. Or months. Hopefully not years? Being Bucky’s sister for that long would drive you insane.

“You,” a scientist snaps from behind their desk as you pass their open office door. You stop in your tracks and peer into the dingy office, noticing scuff marks and mysterious stains on the floor. The man’s desk has every square inch covered in files and papers. So much so that there is a noticeable curvature on the desktop, the cheap material unable to handle the amount of weight it has been subjected to over the years.

“Yes, sir?” you inquire.

He refuses to look up from his work, instead opting to dangle a set of keys from his fingers in your direction. “Go and grab the files for project 0B276HG21 in storage room C.”

Repeating the string of numbers and letters in your head, you take the keys from his outstretched hand and make your way to the storage room. There are so many rooms within the facility that you would be lost without the information your informant sent the team. But even with it, the facility has undergone changes since the last facility plans were uploaded, so you run into dead ends where there should be access doors.

You can only hope that your experience and knowledge will allow you to work your way up quickly – you don’t know how long you can stand to be a lackey. You roll your eyes at the errands you’ve had to run so far, but you know that the new person never gets given the big jobs on the first day.

And so the rest of the shift passes in the same manner and you arrive back at your and Bucky’s house with little energy and even less information.

“Don’t worry about it, doll,” Bucky reassures. “Slow and steady wins the race, right?”

“That’s such a stupid fable,” you grumble. “The hare would have won if it didn’t have such an inflated ego.”

Bucky grins at your disgruntled face before you flop your head backwards to rest. You release a sigh and relax further into the couch where you collapsed after walking in the front door, relieved to smell dinner simmering away on the stove since you arrived home later than expected and hadn’t had the opportunity to grab lunch. 

You tilt your head and watch as Bucky shuffles around the kitchen. He’s long since showered after his time at the repair shop: his hair nearly dry and the strands sticking out in a way that you know he tousled it with his towel and let it finish air drying. The new shorter strands allowed for the minimal work to pay off in dividends because it was damn near impossible to remember how soft his hair used to be and not be able to run your fingers through it now. 

Your fingers itch to reach out, but you grip the cushion instead. No one said that this would be easy. Well, no one has said it’d be anything because Nat’s mission has her radio silent and Wanda is busy spending time with Vis for you to complain about your one-sided love with someone who doesn’t know the feeling. You know that if they knew what was happening right now, they’d be plying you with ideas on how to survive this mission with minimal heartbreak.

“The food is done,” Bucky says as he gathers plates and utensils to set the table. “Are you coming in here or do you want me to bring you a bowl?”

Unfortunately, your best friends aren’t available to provide their wisdom, so here you are: suffering in silence with no outlet. 

“I’ll be there in a second,” you respond. You unclench your fist from the couch’s fabric and stretch out your stiff fingers. Rising from your seat, you make your way into the kitchen and take a seat at the table as Bucky brings the pot over from the stove. You stare intently into the soup as Bucky ladles it into a bowl and sets it in front of you.

“Did something happen today?” he questions with a worried expression.

“You know HYDRA,” you tiredly reply. Looking up into his eyes for the first time this evening, you see the crease between his brows and mentally slap yourself. “I’m fine, Bucky. They don’t have me working on anything specific yet.”

“I know,” he says, “but just be careful with those people, okay?”

You smile up at him and nod your head, your heart squeezing in your chest.

You’re both silent through dinner with the exception of your compliments on Bucky’s cooking. It’s hard to clear the air after bringing up HYDRA and their actions, even in the vaguest way.

***

The week stretches on for an eternity, but eventually Saturday rolls around and you and Bucky prepare to meet the neighborhood.

You arrive at the restaurant right on time. Light pours from the windows and the snow on the ground glistens gold. As soon as you open the car door, you hear laughter and chatter forcing their way through the walls.

“I hate entering a party where everybody is already best friends with each other and then you’re left standing there like a loner,” you decry, already dreading the feeling of ‘otherness’ you will be experiencing in a few short moments.

“You’re not a loner,” Bucky laughs. “You make friends as easily as breathing.”

“Not true,” you counter. “I can make ‘friends’ with strangers, but it’s never anything real. I’m a spy, remember? It’s literally life or death to get people to like me.”

“Trust me, doll,” Bucky says as he looks intently at you from across the car. “People can’t help but love you.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks and you hope the light from the restaurant isn’t bright enough to reveal them to Bucky. The feelings squirming around in your stomach feel suspiciously like hope, and you can’t have that. You deflect any seriousness by laughing off Bucky’s comment.

“Tell that to all the people I’ve thrown in prison.”

Bucky calls your name with some disappointment and a slight frown on his face. You shrug your shoulders and motion towards the entrance. “It’s time to head inside. Come on.” 

You walk away from him and lead the way into the building. Upon opening the door, a blast of warm, humid air hits you. The smell of beer and sweat sweeps up your nostrils, and the interior design reminds you more of a local dive bar than a restaurant. But everyone is laughing and having a good time, so you plaster a smile on your face and look around for the Gretens.

You see Christopher speaking to a short, skinny man, deep in conversation and barely acknowledging anyone else. Tessa stands in a corner surrounded by three other women, all of them laughing and having a good time. Bucky walks up behind you as you stand in the doorway and puts a hand on your shoulder.

“Divide and conquer?” he asks. You nod your head and make your way over to the group of women.

When you’re within ten feet of her, Tessa notices you. She beams at you and raises her hand to usher you closer. 

“Ladies!” Tessa introduces. “Meet our newest neighbor!”

A round of introductions follows and you can’t help but admire how blatantly obvious these women are about their curiosity.  Tessa seems to have already told them everything she knows about you, but they have to ask their own questions. 

“And where’s that brother of yours?” one of them asks. “Tessa’s told us how handsome he is! I’ve got a daughter I’ve been trying to get out of the house for ages.”

You laugh through the twist of your guts, replying merrily, “Oh, I’m sure he’d appreciate the introduction.”

Before the woman can demand a personal introduction, Tessa interrupts when the entrance opens once again and lets in a blast of cold air.

“Petre!” She performs the same waving hand motion that brought you over earlier to the new arrival. “Come here!”

Glancing back, you see a tall man with dark hair and dark eyes making his way over to you. He stops in front of Tessa and wraps her in a quick hug.

“This is my son, Petre. Petre, this is our neighbor.”

Petre greets you warmly. “Hello, it’s nice to finally meet you. My mother hasn’t stopped talking about you since you moved in.”

You giggle when Tessa pats his arm roughly and shake his proffered hand. His skin is warm and dry, the skin on the back of his knuckles chapped from the winter weather. Tessa not-so-subtly draws the other women away from you and Petre and into another conversation, leaving you to speak with each other.

“Your mother seems to think we’d make a good pair,” you comment with a glance over at her.

“Ah, yes,” Petre says while fiddling with his shirt sleeves. “She’s been introducing me to every woman of marrying age. I think she’s afraid I’ll end up alone.”

You can’t help but laugh at his deprecating tone of voice. “We’re young – we’ve still got time.”

“Try telling her that,” he responds. “Being 30 and unmarried is one of the worst things you can be in her eyes.”

You chat with Petre between introductions for the next couple of hours. He sticks close by his mother which keeps him close to you, as Tessa demands everyone that walks by to greet you. Countless faces come and go, but there seems to be someone missing.

You turn to Tessa when the party seems to be winding down and a few people have started to leave. “Where’s your daughter?” you question.

“Kerri and Chrissie are right over there,” she nods, indicating the two young women in a cluster a few feet from you.

“Yes, I remember them from a little while ago. Where’s your other daughter? Sasha?”

At this, Tessa’s face drops and Petre looks at her worriedly. He places his arm around his mother’s shoulders and brings her into his side. “She’s not well,” Petre answers for his mother. “She has been sick for a while now.”

“Oh. Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It’s – it’s alright,” Tessa responds with a sorrowful smile. “She’s at home. Resting.”

“Well I hope she gets better soon,” you reply hopefully. Petre and Tessa nod tersely before steering the conversation off to something else.

It isn’t long after that when you feel Bucky sidle up next to you. He places his hand on your upper arm and pulls you closer into his side. “You ready to go?” he questions.

You hum and say your goodbyes to the people standing around you, promising to come out with Tessa to more gatherings. You and Bucky make your way back out into the cold night, the moon full and bright in the sky.

The car doors close behind you and Bucky starts the engine. You rumble along the road for a few minutes before Bucky says anything.

“Who were you talking to all night?” he asks you.

“Ah.” You sigh. “That was Tessa’s eldest son. The one she mentioned at dinner.”

“And?” he prompts.

“And…?”

“You were with him all night – what was he like? Anything seem off with him?”

You’re not exactly sure what Bucky is getting at, as he’d been talking with a couple of the same people throughout the night as well. “Well no, but it’s not like I could dig any deeper than surface level with so many people coming in and out of the conversation.”

Bucky hums noncommittally. You furrow your brow, but brush it off. “Did you find anything out from Christopher?”

“Not really. I did notice that one of his daughters wasn’t there tonight. Sarah?”

“Sasha,” you correct. “And no, I asked about her, as well. Petre and Tessa seemed really bothered when I brought her up: apparently she’s been pretty sick lately.”

“How sick?” Bucky asks.

“I’m not sure. It didn’t seem like they wanted to talk about it, though.”

“You think she’s been sick enough to require hospital stays?” he proposes, leading the conversation towards what could have possibly happened to the family’s financials that has lead to their worn down clothing and home.

“It’s worth looking into, isn’t it?”

Part 9

@jackiehollanderr @rabbitrabbit12321 @12345sebby @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @lauraashley93 @themorningsunshine @happinessinthebeing @nash-dara @calwitch @stany0url0calwh0res111 @pono-pura-vida @learisa @introverbatim @kentokaze @marvelogic @kaz11283

[i-hug-exploder-shanks]

ficlet request: drifter telling a bar story from when he ran the end of the world bar at the bottom of felwinter peak - include as much gratuitous felwinter as you like - bonus points if he's telling the story to eris <3

This one got a little away from me. I rewrote it three times and just couldn't figure out what I wanted to do for it. I hope you enjoy anyway!

Sliding a filled glass down the counter Drifter leaned forward with a grin, surprised but not upset to see Eris had dropped by the Ether Tank. It was late and very few others were there at that hour but Saint-14 was sitting in a booth in a corner with his Warlock curled against him. Osiris looked like he had already had three drinks too many but Drifter wasn't about to tell him how to live his life.

He wasn't surprised given the date, he had been thinking of getting a little sloshed himself.

"Everyone has been rather morose today. Usually that's my job." Eris hummed making him laugh.

"Reading my mind? Its a good day to be sad on sunshine. It was years ago today that the Iron Lords failed their raid for SIVA." He hummed and she sipped the drink he had given her.

"I know the tale from Shaxx but had not known them myself. They were your friends?" She asked and he snorted.

"As much as you could be friends with someone like Lord Felwinter I suppose. He helped me take care of a few... Issues. I helped run the bar at the foot of his mountain and keep the Lords up top in touch with the lowly vassals below." He admitted starting to clean a class just to have something to do with his hands as he spoke.

"That's how I met the great phoenix Osiris too. Although he was less of a phoenix and more of a time bomb back then. Lit the place on fire quite a few times." He admitted.

"It happened twice! Twice! And the second time was your own fault!" Osiris cut in glaring at him and Drifter grinned.

"You're tempting a third tonight birdy. No Felwinter here to put out the flames either." He said and Osiris made to stand but Saint stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"We do not need a fight. I am here and can stop any flame that would spark up but Osiris is no longer a student either. He is much better versed in his light." He said and Drifter shrugged.

"If you say so. I have to admit the first time was a bit of a shock. I had heard of his visions but didn't realize how violent they were." He admitted and Osiris sighed rubbing his face tiredly before looking at Eris.

"I used to go into such deep traces that I lost control of my body and light. It's why I was seeking help from the Iron Lords in the first place. It's one thing to randomly combust out in the desert and another to do so in a dense wood or worse an occupied home. I knew I needed to master my abilities or they'd hurt more than just myself. Felwinter was a diligent teacher and a dear friend." He said seriously.

"He means that in the same way he and Saint are dear friends nowadays. The first time he lit the bar on fire might have been an accident because of a vision but the second time was because he drank half my store and started going on about wanting Lord Felwinter to step on him." Drifter laughed and Osiris groaned hiding his face in Saint's chest.

Eris hid her own smirk in her drink. "You had a thing for your teacher?" She asked honestly intrigued by the interplay. She also noted that Saint didn't seem surprised or bothered by the knowledge at all.

"You have not met Lord Felwinter. He was very charming. I had tea with him once when on his Peak bringing a request from my father. I think the reason so many people were so mad at him all the time was because of how tight his pants were and how he showed no interest in being helped out of them at all." Saint said shaking his head as Osiris actually laughed.

"That's not true. He just didn't feel urges for it like you or I. Warlord Shaxx certainly earned his interest and I certainly had to wash enough laundry while there to know he had to been doing something." Osiris said abd Eris tilted her head slightly.

"I thought that something would have been you? Didn't you admit to wanting him to step on you?" She asked looking back to Drifter who was smirking.

"There were huge pots around on which Iron Lords were with who. I was running them or I would have put my money in on Osiris and Felwinter being a set until Shaxx was dragged along. Then I wasn't so sure. But the way he reacted to Osiris' incident sealed the deal for me that they were something." He admitted.

Osiris looked at his empty glass and sighed. "Felwinter and I were partners at the time, yes but it wasn't exclusive. We both saw other people as well. However it was nice to have someone I could trust. I... I believed at the time he trusted me as well." He said and Saint pulled him against his side more tightly in a slight hug.

"He lied to everyone about Rasputin and it was clear he did so for your safety. I am certain he feared that telling you would bring you harm. I can not say I would do differently if I had been in his position. Having the Warmind as a father... Ha! Explains why he hit like a warsat! He was strong for a warlock. You are all so small with such little arms! You usually need your magics to get the better of a Titan but I saw him once punch Saladin's head right off! I think he was taking lessons from Shaxx." Saint laughed.

Eris finished her own drink and looked at Osiris finally deciding to be brave and ask her own question.

"Did you... See it?" She asked. The hive had their own forms of peering into the future and she trusted the divination she performed through it.

"Site 6? Yes. Many times. But not in enough detail to be certain. Still... I had my doubts. I confronted him about it and we argued. I told him even if I was wrong, if he left I would not be waiting for him when he returned. I understood the draw of SIVA but it just sounded too good to be true. Saint had offered me accommodations here in the city so I took him up on the offer. I only returned to the temple once to help Saladin lock everything up. I regret that the last of our time together was an argument but I don't regret my choice. Especially knowing that he knew about Rasputin." He admitted before they all sat in silence for a moment.

"You should take a bottle up to Shaxx for me when you head back to the tower. I would but.. well... The big guy kinda scares me." Drifter said holding out a bottle as Saint helped Osiris from their booth, the warlock wobbling a little.

"Shaxx is harmless as a kitten... If the kitten was a mountain lion kitten that could spit fire from it's mouth." Saint said cheerfully.

"We will do that. Good night Drifter. Good night Eris." Osiris said accepting the bottle and walking out arm and arm with his partner.

Eris finally turned back to Drifter and leaned her head on her palm. "Any other fun stories about the Iron Lords?" She asked and he grinned.

"For you sister? I have histories." He agreed and poured her another drink.

[loveletterstoeverything]

on smelling the flowers

Walk One

My dog takes great pleasure in our evening walks. I have not always felt the same. Our walks, historically, go like this: she pulls on her leash, and I follow behind doom scrolling social media on my phone. The heat of the evening feels oppressive, the breeze hot and taunting. She is happy, and I think only of getting back inside to lay down in the AC. She insists on smelling every fallen fruit and darts after bugs with joy. I endure.

On one of our very first walks together, Daisy rolls on her back, feet in the air, happier than I have ever seen her. I pull out my phone to take a quick video of her joy, feeling it rise in my chest as well, until my nose catches up with the situation. My dog, finally out of the shy shelter dog phase, has rolled in feces. Any joy I felt is lost in the realization that I will now need to wash a three legged dog who hates bath time and that I might be late to work because of it. Daisy, despite being covered in shit, seems to be even happier. 

I envy my dog for her seemingly natural propensity for joy, especially in the face of hard times. I brought her home 10 days after she lost her hind leg to a car accident, her side still scraped and scarred from the pavement. And yet the first moment we met she came bouncing over, sat in my lap and licked my face. She was sniffing flowers with her entire cone in the bushes, tail wagging like nothing bad had ever happened to her. Could I ever do the same?

In church I grew up hearing that happiness was a feeling, but joy is a choice. To a 17-year-old with severe depression, this sounded like bullshit shared to shift the blame of our pain from God to ourselves. I spent my life with a clenched fist, nails digging into my palm, enduring what the church might claim was God’s plan for my life. Expressing unhappiness was met each time with a smile and a condemnation: happiness is a feeling, joy is a choice; your feelings don’t matter, do a better job at getting rid of them. Truthfully, I still believe that this mantra was shared with the purpose of absolving the Almighty of any hand in our affliction, though I have found meaning of my own in them since.

Walk Two

My favorite time to walk with my dog is right before the sun fully sets, when the heat has started to seep out of the concrete and dissipate into the air but it hasn’t quite become dark yet. We walk along the fence of our complex, where bushes of purple flowers bloom when it rains. My sweet dog, with her flopping ears and wagging tail, has always believed in smelling every single flower for as long as necessary. I, with my allegedly important life, believe in shorter, functional walks. I believed that feeling joy and that noticing the beauty of this world and this life was something I could only achieve through time and medication and luck. 

I want to be clear: medication is for many (and certainly for me) a prerequisite to study and participate in joy. But I thought medicine would be magic. I was disappointed to discover that it functions more as a life jacket than a cruise ship. I wanted joy to happen to me, and I was frustrated to find that all the mood stabilizers and anxiety meds in the world wouldn’t bestow immediate happiness upon me. 

But here was this dog sniffing flowers. 

Why could I make hours of time for things that made me miserable but not take these ten minutes to be present, outside, a spectator to my dog’s delight? Why was I so annoyed when our walks would take longer while she took the time to smell every fallen olive from the trees, as if each would be a brand new scent? Maybe they are to her. Maybe each sniff makes her heart feel lighter, more excited to go to the next, the way I read books when I was young and joy was easy. Maybe if I stood here with her, I could learn her secret to happiness. 

Walk Three

I think Daisy knew what all dogs innately know: to experience joy we must choose to participate in it. Every walk, she knows to smell everything in reach of her nose: pink and purple flowers, a grasshopper before it leaps away, even the occasional snake. I wish I could say it only took one or even a handful of walks for my perspective to change. But it took years of walks (and of therapy, and of finding the right balance of medication) before anything clicked. Walking a dog is consistent; it requires intentionality and participation. Joy is similar. 

We cannot choose the perfect set of conditions to experience joy any more than we can make flowers bloom, but we can choose to seek all those places where the conditions are right for it. And when they do bloom, soft orange petals bursting open to the light, dirt still soft from the rain, we can choose to give into it. When we are consistent in looking for where our heart finds joy, in noticing where that little pull in our chest whispers “pay attention”, we can choose to experience that joy fully. 

Daisy reframed joy and happiness for me. Happiness is a feeling, yes – one of the many across the spectrum I can experience and express fully and with no shame. And joy is a choice; even when I might be covered in shit from my roll on the grass, I can choose to feel joy that I am alive, joy that there is grass to roll in, joy to not have a cone around my neck any longer. Daisy would.

On our walks now, when Daisy smells a flower, I smell one too. The yellow ones make me sneeze, and the purple ones smell a little like feet to me, but each time I breathe in the flowers with my dog I find myself smiling and marveling at what it is to be alive. Daisy rolls in the dirt, and even though a part of me wishes to pull her back to avoid trying to de-mud a 3-legged dog who hates baths, I take off my shoes and jump in puddles with her. I laugh and her tail wags and I realize that this is the way we choose joy. 

[pngrn]

6/3/24

a letter to myself, about you.

today, i mourned. i went back to the place we met, for the first time in so many years. i let the memories of a carefree girlhood wash over me.

i mourned us. for the first time since that night, i mourned the loss of your love.

i did not mourn in all these years because i did not let myself. i did not feel as though i could mourn the loss of you over my own wrongdoings - the pain i caused you. i did not feel as though i deserved to be able to.

i thought back to the time where love was simple. where struggles, toxicity, and pain did not have any influence.

i thought back to that field. to the stars on the beach. to your apartment and the cat we welcomed into it.

i let myself feel, sitting on that dirt. feel the love i had for you, and the love that i harbor for you still. i let myself feel the full weight of my actions and who i was to you during those final months.

i let myself mourn the girl i was in childhood, on that field - the one who loved you purely. i even let myself mourn the girl who treated you terribly - i let the weight of the struggles i went through during that time and after come up and i let go of them.

i let myself let go of the thought that anytime something bad happened to me - the things faced in the relationship i ruined us for, my father’s cancer diagnosis coming a day after he lost his job, the heartbreak where i was told i was not loved enough to stay, the assault, everything - that all of those things were simply karma.

in large part they probably were - if you believe in that sort of thing - and i think a small part of me will always weather the hardships i face in life by thinking back to that last message you sent. what you hoped for.

and i don’t think i will ever stop living my life without the thought of atoning for the pain i caused you.

but i let myself remember that im not that person anymore, that girl who hurt you. im proud of the fact that i left that person behind that first year of college. im proud of the friendships i remedied and solidified. im proud of the therapy i got through, im proud of being sober. im proud of me.

and im thankful for you. thankful that you stood up for youself. thankful that you called me out on all the bullshit that i put you through that last year. thankful that i got to love you during my childhood. thankful that i got to experience your love.

nearly everything you said in that final message was true. you do haunt me - but now, i will carry you with me in the light. bittersweet, evening light, the light at the end of the day, the end of a time. no longer will i shove your haunting presence down to where it festers and hurts, where i weather it because i feel as though i deserve it.

thank you for showing me that pure love exists, and for being that love for so long. i am so sorry that i threw that away. that i caused you pain. i am so sorry that you took the damage of who i was then. im so sorry that saying that im sorry doesn’t begin to cover it.

…

i felt closer today, sitting on that field, to the girl who played and loved you all those years ago than i ever have before. ive become her again, in so many ways. i don’t know if i would have if what happened didn’t.

i loved you then, and i love you still.

- p

[xoxorhiannon]

"so tell us about him. c'mon" Gavin whined while he's tugging my shirt.

i sat down with them on the floor, it was 3 in the afternoon i could feel the afternoon sun gracing my face. the kids at the kindergarten where I was doing my part time job were so eager to get to know the man in my stories i would often tell them.

"please, ate wybee, what's he like?"

I smiled into a memory.

"well, he was kind. caring. thoughtful. respectful. and he likes to tell dad jokes, most of them are really corny." i can't help but roll my eyes and smile while remembering everything about him.

"he puts everyone first before him. he'd always be there anytime you need him. he.. he makes time for you." I paused, letting the memories wash over me.

"he's like a darker shade of red. the kind of red that leaves a stain on your shirt." I sniffed.

"like a ruby red?" Bella asked, inching closer to me.

"Yeah. A ruby. His presence is as deep as a ruby. when he's around, you just feel like you're safe. like nothing bad would ever happen." I stared down on my ankles, taking quick little breaths as I struggled to keep myself from crying in front of their innocence.

"so like any super heroes?" one of the kids asked eagerly.

I laughed at the thought because actually, he was. to me. i lost count of how many times he managed to save me from my thoughts and silence. i lost count of how many times he tried to make me happy on days that i am not.

"yeah, in a way."

"well, do you still talk to him? can we meet him?" I shook my head slowly as I try to find the exact words on how to tell them that no, they will never meet him. that no, i haven't heard anything about him anymore. that no, i'm not seeing him anymore. that no, we don't talk anymore.

I try to choke back the lamp on my throat as I struggle to find the words to tell them, that it was my fault why they'll never have the chance to meet him. that it was me who asked him to walk away. that it was me, who decided it would be best if don't speak to each other ever again. that it was me, who regret everything that have been said and done.

but a single tear have managed to escape my eyes as I told them no.

"but why?" Clarisse asked, getting curious and frustrated at the same time.

"I understand you want to meet him, I do too. I want to see him again, too." I composed myself and blinked rapidly to brush away the sting in my eyes caused by some salt air.

"let's just say that He and I, are now both busy with what we wanted to do in life as grown ups. because you know, when you grow up, a lot of inevitable things happen in life. and those are things you have no control of. they just happen, and you just let them happen."

"but didn't you tell us before that If you want something to happen in life, you make it happen? you said you want to meet him too." Gavin asked, locking his gaze in my eyes, innocence pooling in his iris.

I smiled hearing the words that I used to hold on to.

"but we don't know if he wants to meet me anymore, kid. just because I wanted to, doesn't mean I can just do it."

I stood up and started cleaning up the room. the kids went back to playing. while i am piling up the books in the counter, i felt a tug on my shirt. I turned around and it was Peter.

"Yes, Pete?"

"ate wybee, my Mom told me that sometimes we only think that our old friends don't want to see us anymore is because we are scared to face the changes that took place in between those times that we haven't seen each other."

I stared at Peter as he went back to his friends to play. I sat there letting his words sink in my bones, lost in words, forever haunted by a realization.

maybe i am. maybe i am scared of confronting the reality that took place overtime. maybe i am just scared that when we meet, we won't be able to pick up where we left off.

maybe i am scared to see that he managed to move on, and it was me who got stuck in memories all along.

maybe i am terrified that he's no longer there, the moment i reach out again.

- the rubies that i gave up, 2024.

[taestefully-in-luv]

I know your requests are closed but in case you reopening them, can you do Taehyung + #11 from Part I prompts pleaseeeee🥺🥺🥺

Prompt: “Oh no, there is only one bed, what will we do now?”

Pairing: Taehyung x female reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: unprotected sex

A/N: This request was supposed to be one of the lasts but I got inspired for this prompt hehe so enjoy! Sorry it’s a little longer than the others!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taehyung drops his suitcase to the floor, exhaling a deep, frustrated breath as he eyes the room.

“Oh no, there is only one bed, what will we do now?” he huffs out, rolling his eyes to the back of his head. “I already have to go on this fucking trip with you, then we have to share a room…and now there is only one fucking bed. Of course.” He complains with a dark expression with a harsh blush on his cheeks. You don’t notice though.

You feel your own anger bubble over but you decide to laugh. Yes, you laugh because this whole situation is one cruel joke from the universe. This earns a look of disapproval from Taehyung. He shakes his head at you as you continue to chuckle, you not totally or completely caring about his judgements. You would be in this complete shit show with none other than Kim Taehyung. Your nemesis.

“I’ll sleep on the couch.” He states and you give him a pointed look.

“What couch? Taehyung look at this piece of shit room. We only have the bed and a chair.” You point out knowingly, “You can sleep on the floor though.”

“Like hell I am sleeping on the god damn floor.” He is pissed you would even suggest such a thing. “I’ll sleep on one end and you on the other.”

“Afraid I have cooties?” you ask with a smirk and he rolls his eyes at you, quite hard.

“Something like that.” He spits out, grabbing his suit case off the floor and setting it on the bed. “I’ll shower first.” He unzips his luggage and pulls out some of his belongings.

“Fine.”

You and Taehyung have been working together post college, you knew him in university though…quite well. You two were always in ongoing competitions in your classes—and you shared a lot of classes. You and he never quite got along, you two always finding something to argue about instead.

Then you both happened to apply to the same job and both got accepted…only furthering your ongoing competition of one upping another. You try to stay out of his hair though…you are aware you two don’t get along well….too much tension. And you are an adult now with an adult job that you take seriously, so you try to avoid Taehyung.

Unfortunately, your boss paired you two together for an overnight trip, and your company didn’t have the budget for two rooms—just the one. Taehyung offered to pay for another room but apparently the hotel only has the one, so here you two are with one room and one bed.

You place your own luggage on the bed and begin taking out your bed time clothes, your shampoo, your conditioner and your body wash. It’s been like, 30 minutes and he still in the bathroom. You sit on the bed and wait patiently, scrolling through your phone and mindlessly watching YouTube videos when finally Taehyung exits the bathroom.

You don’t even look at him as you stand from the bed with your things, you turn to head towards the bathroom, walking through the small room. Really your company couldn’t do better than this?

“There better be hot water, Taehyung.” You throw the comment over your shoulder and you hear Taehyung snicker from behind you.

“I guess you’ll find out.”

You force yourself to take a nice, deep breath trying to calm your nerves. Kim Taehyung is always trying to get on them any way he can. While you try to ignore him, he always makes his presence known.

“You’re such a child. I feel bad for you girlfriend.” You close the bathroom door with a little bit of force.

Your shower was…not freezing, at least. But you prefer it a bit on the warmer side. You clean the fogged up mirror with a towel and take a good look at yourself. You look tired, just plain tired. You dry off completely and slip on your panties and a bralette, they’re cute and comfortable.

You’re about to pull your t shirt over when you catch something in the corner of your eye. A mother fucking roach. You feel your whole body crawling with them as you stare at the one bug. You yelp out, throwing your t shirt over the bug…this causes Taehyung to rush to the bathroom door and ask what’s wrong over and over.

“y/n??? Hey, you okay???” his panicked voice goes unnoticed by you as you back into the bathroom door. “Unlock the door!” he begins rattling the doorknob, trying to get it open.

You finally notice the door shaking, and his stressed voice on the other side. Without thinking you hurry to unlock the door and open it. Taehyung’s eyes expand at least 4 times their size as he eyes you. You’re basically naked!

“Where the fuck are your clothes?” Taehyung stutters as he speaks, his eyes raking your half naked body.

“Roach! Roach!” you yell, pointing at the direction of your t shirt. “He’s there! He’s under my shirt!!!” you can’t help but walk impossibly close to Taehyung, grabbing a hold of his bicep with one arm while your other points down across the bathroom.

Taehyung feels himself freeze under your touch, your small hand trying to wrap itself around his arm. He tries to pull himself together though, slowly pulling your hand away from him.

“It’s under your shirt?” he asks quietly. “Why the fuck would you throw your shirt over it?” He can’t help the amused smile that paints itself on his face.

Taehyung walks towards the shirt and slowly lifts it up, his eyebrows begin climbing to the top of his forehead as he notices no sign of any roach.

“Uh oh.” He says calmly.

“Uh oh, what?” You walk closer to him, staying behind him as your arms go to grab both of his arms. “What?” You whine.

“It’s gone.” He says, then he shakes the T shirt around, but no bug falls out. Then he’s turning around to face you and his face goes unbelievably red.

“Here, put this one.” He throws the shirt at you and you jump back, your face gone pale.

“As if I am wearing that now!” you say as your voice cracks. You pinch your brows together as you think of what to do. “I don’t have any other shirts…” you pout and Taehyung looks at you and rolls his eyes.

“Just wear the god damn shirt, y/n.”

“No….” you frown at him and he almost feels bad for you. “I don’t want to sleep with the shirt a bug just touched.

“You are so ridiculous.” He scoffs, “I have an extra t shirt…although I don’t know which shirt you would avoid mo—”

“I’ll take the shirt!” you cut him off with an excited smile and he raises a brow at you.

“Really?” he walks past you in the bathroom, his shoulder bumping yours and you feel the heat rush to your cheeks.

“Well…it’s almost on the same level as the bug shirt but yeah, I’ll take it,” you lightly tease.

“Fine. But also can you please, I mean, please put some pants on…” Taehyung walks into the room, takes out his luggage and pulls out an extra shirt. You follow him in the room and catch the shirt when he throws it over to you.

“Thanks…” You mumble. You begin to pull it over your head, sniffing it as you do so. It smells like him. Something soft, yet deep. A scent you can’t find anywhere else.

“Let’s just try to sleep now.” Taehyung pulls back the covers and slips inside the bed. You on the other hand look at him like he is crazy.

“You think I can fall asleep with a roach on the loose?” you whisper shout, like as if the bug might hear you.

“You’ll have to try.” He mumbles lamely.

You huff out a short puff of air as you walk closer to the bed. Fine, you will try to fucking sleep. You pull back your side of the covers and get into the bed, pulling the sheets and blanket close to your face. You turn on your side, your back facing Taehyung and hide your nose and chin inside the t shirt. You feel yourself getting lost in its scent.

Maybe 20 minutes or so passes when you notice how restless Taehyung is…he keeps moving around, sighing out and lightly groaning. You are having a hard time falling asleep too but jeez, he is fucking dramatic. You decide to make conversation even though he will probably tell you to fuck off.

“Thanks for saving me earlier.” You whisper, turning yourself to lay on your other side, facing Taehyung.

“I don’t have a girlfriend.” He says instead of ‘you’re welcome’.

“What?”

“Earlier you said you feel bad for my girlfriend.” He turns on his side to face you, “But I don’t have one? So, I don’t know why you said that.”

“Aren’t you dating that girl you are always with? You guys are always at the coffee maker, giggling and shit.”

“Wait…Pauline?” he starts chuckling. “She’s cool. We have a lot in common…like, girls.” He continues to laugh as you get the hint.

“Oh.” You say, blinking up at the ceiling. “Well, even if it’s not her, I’m sure you have someone.”

“Why are you so concerned with my dating life?” Taehyung scoots a little closer to you. “You hate me. So why do you care?”

“You are the one who hates me. Not the other way around.”

Taehyung narrows his eyes at you before he starts shaking his head over and over. He slowly closes his eyes as he takes a deep breath.

“No. You hate me.” He says matter of fact. “I don’t hate you.”

“You so do hate me!”

“Well, I only hate you because you hate me!”

“But I don’t hate you!” You begin to sit up in bed, the blankets falling down your body. “You are annoying, yes. But I don’t hate you.”

Taehyung sits up in bed as well, he crosses his arms over his chest and exhales a deep breath.

“So you don’t hate me? I don’t hate you? Then why are we always fighting?”

“I don’t know, we have been fighting since college…I don’t know what else to do with all this energy I have for you.” You admit.

“Energy?” Taehyung tilts his head, “You mean, the tension?”

“Yeah.” You gulp. “The tension. This tension means we fight, right?”

“Well, what else could it mean?”

You swallow down the lump in your throat as you sit here…you know exactly what I could mean but you aren’t about to admit that right now. Taehyung has to know too, right? He isn’t that dumb is he?

“y/n…” he says your name differently than he has ever said it…like as if he had practiced to say it that way and he finally got to say it out loud. The softness in his voice is mesmerizing, his usual bite gone altogether.

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss—”

“Yes.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen at how quickly you respond, his mouths fall open and his heart starts racing. He really though you hated him…he really thought he had no chance…he really thought that hating you back was the only way for you two to have any sort of relationship.

“Be honest with me.” He begins, scooting even closer to you. “Have you thought about me before? Kissing you?...Touching you?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me how it started.” He grows warmer just talking to you like this. “Please.” His deep voice somehow goes lower with every word he speaks to you.

“Back in college…” You gulp, “You and I had a group presentation…I wanted to be in charge. But you kept talking over me—”

“Sorry…”

“I went home that night so angry, that the only thing that could calm me was to touch myself. And your stupid face is all I could think of.”

“Was that the only time you touched yourself thinking about me?” Taehyung’s hand crawls up your arm, until his hand is at your jaw.

“No.” you admit, your breathing becomes unsteady. “That was just the first.”

Taehyung’s thumb brushes against your cheek and you feel yourself grow impatient. You want him to kiss you. You want him to touch you. Years and years of pent up frustrations—

“When was the last time—”

“Shower.” You rush to say. “My mind was going crazy at the thought of sharing a bed with you.”

Taehyung smirks at you, his long fingers still at your jaw, he tightens his hold and he begins leaning into your space.

“Do you want me y/n?”

You feel your entire body shiver, you feel goosebumps rise on your skin and you feel the heat creep all over your body.

“Yes Taehyung.”

His lips crash into yours, they move against you with rushed desperation. Your hands immediately go to his hair, tugging on the strands, somehow pulling him even closer to you. You can’t help the moan that escapes your poor, weak body as his hands explore you. They start at your jaw but are soon traveling down your body. He cups your breasts in his hands, you groan when he squeezes them. Then you feel his fingertips graze down your stomach until he reaches the waistband of your shorts.

“Can we take these off?” Taehyung asks between kisses. “Please.”

“But you practically begged for me to put them on earlier.” You smirk as you kiss him back with passion.

“And I’ll beg for you to take them off.” He smiles in your kiss and you can’t help but roll your hips to his little idea.

“C’mere.” He guides you by the hips to straddle his lap. Your legs on either side of his as you start moving your hips back and forth, you can feel his member growing beneath you with every roll of your hips.

“Take it out on me.” He says between his erratic breaths. “How angry I have made you. I want you to take it out on me.”

“Okay.” You agree easily, your hand going to his throat. You squeeze lightly as you start riding his clothed dick. You grind into him, hard and fast. He meets you half way, thrusting up, his hard member rubbing against your clit so deliciously.

You look down at him, your eyes meeting his when he smirks at you. God, he looks so good like this. He’s totally fucked out, sweat dribbling down the side of his forehead, his tongue continuously darting out to wet to puffy lips.

“I need you.” You pant out, “Right now.”

Taehyung nods his head in understanding. He stops his hips from moving, lifts you up slightly as you both work on dragging his shorts and briefs down. His cock bounces off his lower abdomen in freedom, his swollen member leaking with precum. You rush to take your shorts and panties off and go back to his lap.

“Condom?” He asks, out of breath.

“Are you clean? I’m on birth control…plus, I’m clean.” You say quickly, the anticipation killing you.

“Yes, I’m all good.” He grabs his cock in his hand and starts pumping himself. “Now, please.” He whines.

You nod, hovering over his length, replacing his hand with yours as you take a deep breath before you are sinking down onto it. You whimper at the feeling since he is so big. He’s long, he’s thick and he is destroying you just by entering you.

“You okay?” His hand goes to cup your jaw and you try to nod your head. “Take your time.”

“You’re so fucking big…” you sink lower and lower, his cock filling you to the brim. “But it feels so good.” You say between rough breaths.

“You feel incredible, y/n….” his hands goes to your hips and he begins to help raise you up, you lift yourself off his length and slam back down. You are finally getting adjusted to his size that you’re able to rise and fall on his cock over and over.

Taehyung’s hands go to your ass cheeks, he squeezes them as he helps you rise and sink on his cock, your thighs burning as you ride him faster and faster. Your hand finds its way back to his throat and you push him back on the bed. He lays down as you ride him, his moans and your moans filling in the small space of the room.

“Fuck…so tight.” He slams his eyes shut as you make him feel so fucking good. “y/n…y/n…” He starts chanting your name.

“Help me…” you fall forward, your chest hovering over his as you start kissing him. Your tongue pushes past his lips and he tangles his tongue with yours immediately. Taehyung begins thrusting forward from beneath you. He fucks into you so hard and so fast that your vision starts to blur. He is hitting your spot with every brush of his dick and it just intensifies when you feel his fingers on your clit.

“I’m gonna come Taehyung…” you warn him, your erratic breathing hitting his face. “So fucking close…please don’t stop.”

Taehyung opens his eyes to look at you, he fucks you harder now. The sounds of his skin slapping your skin making this sound all the more filthy. He moans over and over because he is also so close.

“Where should I come?” He pants out, “Tell me now!” his body begins to tense as you reach back and fondle his balls. “Oh fuck!!” he screams, “y/n! y/n!”

“Inside me.” You lean down and kiss the side of his neck.

Taehyung thrusts so fucking quickly before he is stilling his desperate hips and shooting his cum inside you. His eyes shoot open as he comes, his body wanting to give out on him but he endures. He squeezes his eyes shut as he starts fucking you harder again, his fingers rubbing tight circles on your bundle of nerves. Your high pitched moans making Taehyung feel high as fuck. You finally yell out, whimpering in his ear as you come undone all over his cock, creaming it and soaking it. You feel your orgasm hit you so fucking hard that you collapse on top of Taehyung’s body. He wraps his arms around you and holds you tightly, your sweaty bodies mingling together.

“Wow.” You say, out of breath.

“Yeah, wow.”

Taehyung slowly slips his softening member out of you and winces, the feeling alone so overwhelming. He rolls your bodies over until you are both on your sides facing one another, he smiles at you and you feel yourself go shy.

“Just to be clear…you don’t hate me, right?” You ask.

“Does it look like I hate you?” he teases, reaching out and putting a strand of hair behind your ear. “I think we have a lot of years to make up for.”

“I don’t want this to be just about sex.” You say quietly. Taehyung’s eyes go wide at your words before he is smiling for you again.

“That wasn’t my intention.” He admits, “Maybe a date first?”

“Or a few.” You joke.

“We have years to make up for y/n, so it’ll be more than just a few dates.” He leans over and kisses your forehead.

“Are you still going to be annoying at work?” you stick your tongue out, Taehyung rolls his eyes playfully at you.

“It’s just healthy competition” he leans forward and kisses your lips this time. “And if I make you mad you can always just…take it out on me…” another kiss.

“You should make me mad more often then.”

"You mean even more mad?" He laughs.

"Yes."

[angst-fairygodmother]

Could you maybe write soneting where the reader and Lambert are together at Kaer Morhen, they are together and the reader helps out Ciri a lot. But the reader is later wounded when the Voleth Meir posesses Ciri? 🌚✨🗡

A/N: I sort of skipped the first bit, because a little Lambert/Reader hurt/comfort felt right, here. I hope you enjoy! Word Count: 1783 Rating: T - canon typical language, canon typical violence, The Witcher season 2 spoilers, descriptions of pain/injuries, innuendo and implication

“Y/N, what are you doing?!” Lambert hissed, even that sound seeming to boom in the eerie empty halls of the witchers' keep.

He grabbed your wrist as you tried to push your way past him, refusing to simply sit in the room you shared and do nothing while he and his brothers risked their lives. The hold was gentle, easy enough to yank out of while you glared at the big redhead.

“Going to Ciri,” you snapped as if it were obvious (and it should have been). “She needs me, needs us.”

“Are you mad woman?! She would have slit all our throats as we slept if she hadn't been interrupted.”

“You said yourself that that thing isn't her. Except the part that is,” you sighed and ran your hands over your face. “We don't have time for this. You know how close she and I have become, closer than anyone else here. If Geralt can't get through to her, can't help her break whatever's doing this, maybe I can.”

“You could get hurt,” he said, voice plaintive and almost broken. “You could be killed.”

“So could you. Every time you go off to fight a monster, just like now. Have I ever tried to stop you?”

“Well no but...I'm a witcher. That's my job.”

You reached up to cup his bearded cheek in one hand, smiling fondly as he leaned into your palm. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, like he was memorizing your smell or looking for something in it before exhaling in a sigh.

“Please Lambert. I need you to trust me.”

“I do trust you, Y/N. It's her I don't. And me, if something ever happened to you.”

You stood on your tiptoes, the height difference still meaning you were barely eye to eye. You leaned in, feeling the way the coarse hairs scratched familiarly against your own face. His breath ghosted over you, a strange comforting feeling before your lips pressed together. Your hand slid back along his jaw, tangling into the long locks at his temple and his clung to your hips, holding you against him like his life, or yours, depended on it.

“I'll be okay,” you promised. “How can I not be, when I know you'll be watching my backside the whole time.” You winked, drawing out that deep, blessed laugh that you loved so much.

“Damn right,” he growled playfully. “And when this is over, I'll be dragging it back here and keeping it in bed with me for a week.”

“Only a week?”

“Oh it'll be longer if you let me.”

“Well then, I suppose we had better go find Ciri and settle this, yeah?”

He hesitated, reminded of the reality of the situation outside your teasing, of how momentarily terrifying the little girl had been when he caught a glimpse of her fleeing. You gave his hand a comforting squeeze and he nodded solemnly, words lost in his throat. And then you were gone, slipping through his grasp like smoke as you headed for the Great Hall and Ciri and he made for the armory and his brothers.

~

It was easy to lose track when your home, a place that should have been impenetrably safe, exploded into a battlefield. Even easier was losing hope as you watched a child you had come to care for slaughter the people you'd grown up beside, known all your life. Add being battered by a basilisk like a cat with a toy mouse, and no one could blame Lambert for not being at his best. Except Lambert.

Y/N approached Ciri, hands held out to her, inviting her to take them. She called Ciri's name, voice somehow carrying over the noise of the fight and the cyclone that was building up around the younger girl. Everything seemed to stop as the eerie, unnatural green eyes considered her. A chill certainty washed over him that the thing that had taken over the girl was wholly evil, and had fixed it's intent on his lover. He turned his sword away from the monsters and toward her, determined to reach her or die trying.

~

“Ciri,” you spoke softly, calling to the princess. “Sweetheart, can you hear me? Let me help you.”

“Help me?” The voice that wasn't hers echoed through the room and your mind followed by a cruel laugh that twisted your stomach. “How could you help me? I have more power than you could ever dream.”

“You're right. But that doesn't mean you can, or should, do everything alone. Ciri knows that, and even when she's stubborn, she relies on her friends, her family.”

“That's what made her weak.”

“No. We made each other strong.”

You took a step closer, unwavering despite the hatred you could feel rolling off the girl like a physical force.

“Ciri, I know you're in there. And whatever she's doing, it can't be good. But you have to fight. Be strong.”

Suddenly, the unnatural green eyes narrowed and something grabbed you by the throat, invisible claws digging into flesh as it squeezed.

“I am going to enjoy destroying you.” The voice reverberated. “Your pain will make so much more.”

Your feet lifted from the floor as you struggled helplessly. And then the room was rushing past faster than you could process, before you slammed into something solid and blackness overtook you, too quickly to feel any pain.

~

Someone was screaming...no roaring. Like a wounded bear. It didn't even register to the redheaded witcher that it was him as he launched into a second rage, on top of the one caused by the elixirs, and cut through Ciri's monsters like they were bags of straw.

He wanted to get to the girl, to make her suffer, no matter what affection he, or you, had felt for her before. But Geralt and Vesimir and more basilisks stood in his way. He felt trapped and helpless, feelings he hadn't since he was a boy, and his vision seemed to narrow.

No longer registering the dangers in the room, he ran to Y/N's side, cradling her limp body against his chest.

“Wake up, damn fool woman,” he growled, trying to bury pain in anger. “Why the fuck did you put yourself in danger like that?”

He was still holding his love close, shielding her with his body and listening carefully to her unsteady heart and labored breathing when Vesimir placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Take her to the infirmary, we cannot help her here,” his mentor said softly, tiredly.

“Can you help her at all?” He asked in return, not daring yet to move.

“I don't know.”

~

When you woke, you were staring up at a ceiling that told you nothing about where you were. Rough wool scratched at the underside of your arms where they rested beside you and there was a heavy weight pulling at one side of the material, stretching it tight across your lap.

You groaned weakly, body aching in so many ways that it was impossible to identify one or trace and pinpoint them. Suddenly the tension released, making the blanket snap back into a rumple that barely covered your legs.

“Y/N! You're awake!” Lambert shouted, shooting up into a seated position beside you, his volume making you wince as your head throbbed.

“Unfortunately,” you grumbled.

A split second later the air was knocked painfully out of your lungs as he crushed you into a hug. His face pressed into your neck and you were shocked to realize that it was damp. Grimacing, you did your best to return the hug, running a comforting hand across his shoulders.

“Dammit woman, you scared me,” he murmured, only audible because of his proximity to your ear.

Before you could answer and apologize, another voice cut through.

“Oi! Lambchop! Suffocating the girl isn't a good way to make her rest,” Coen teased as he approached.

Lambert leapt back from you, face as sheepish as a kid caught stealing cookies from the baking tray. You smiled softly at him before Coen's hand clapped down on his shoulder.

“I don't know what you've done to this off Y/N, but he hasn't left your side since the battle. How are you feeling?”

You felt your cheeks warm in a furious blush under the sudden, intent focus the two men turned on you.

“Honestly, awful,” you answered with a rueful chuckle that became a cough. “But I'm alive apparently, which is better than I thought the result would be, in the moment I had to think.”

Coen laughed, while Lambert scowled with worry.

“Well I'll let the others know, and leave you two lovebirds alone,” he paused, glancing around at what you assumed were other beds with injured witchers in them, and shrugged. “Alone-ish.”

He threw you a wink as he turned and strolled away again, and you tried to cover your heated face with your hands. A silence settled over you and Lambert as he seemed to study the threads of your blanket.

“Hey,” you said softly, reaching out to cradle his cheek in one hand, forcing yourself into a semi-seated position in the process. “Lambert, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” He frowned, even as he leaned into your touch.

“I should have listened to you. I didn’t stand a chance, and I…I hurt you by getting hurt.”

He laughed, the sound warming your heart even though it seemed out of place here and now.

“Only you,” he shook his head. “Would almost die and be worried about me.”

“Well…of course. I love you.”

“You what?”

Blood rushed in your ears and you felt dizzy. You couldn’t be sure whether it was the after-effects of your injury or the words that had slipped out of you so naturally. You closed your eyes to steady yourself.

“I love you Lambert.”

He brushed a soft kiss against your lips, the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile. He gently cradled your head in one of his hands, the other supporting his weight so that he didn’t hurt you. You looped your arms around his neck, trying to hold him close as he drew away with a groan.

“I love you too, you mad infuriating woman,” he said with a smirk. “And gods damn it all, if you weren’t still hurt, I’d show you just how much.”

You smiled back at him, teasingly. “I’m sure I can find a way to make it up to you later.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Y/N. But for now, rest.”

“Will you stay with me?” you meant it as a joke, but he nodded, gaze intense.

“I wouldn’t dream of going anywhere else.”

[tonesplash]

its thanksgiving get nasty (18+)

pairing: edward cullen x reader

summary: you get bored at thanksgiving dinner. unfortunately for edward you wore sandals

warnings: smut,brief footjob, thanksgiving dinner, edward kind of chokes on corn, reader doesn’t like their family, mild injury, fingering, innappropriate use of vampire speed, technically exhibitionism and public sex?? bad dirty talk, and cousin-shaming, reader is afab and might be described as female im not sure

a/n: i wrote this in 24 hours so any sloppiness is not my fault

masterlist

(c/n)= cousins name

When you told him thanksgiving with your family would be boring, you’d meant it’d be for him, looking forward to his reaction to being on the receiving end of your bloodlines ridiculousness while you’d get dinner and a show. But, as it turns out, your family just so happens to get along with Edward much better than they do with you.

The seating situation is a little unconventional, since because your boyfriend-snatching cousin stole the open seat next to Edward before you even made it back from the bathroom, leaving your only viable option directly opposite of him. On the bright side, you had the option of kicking his leg when he’d said something to embarrass you.

 Bless his soul, he’d done his best to bring you into the conversation but apparently, anything you had to say about your relationship had been relayed verbatim to the family group chat you weren't even in by your mother. So, after the third time you’re talked over by the aforementioned horny cousin or some other nosy relative on you’re bored out of your mind.

Everyone had gotten over your piss poor table manners years ago, or were just completely ignoring you at this point because there were no protests when they’d brought the turkey out and you’d stayed slumped low in your seat like a child in church.

Twitter had stopped refreshing ten minutes ago, and when you finally resigned yourself to tuning back into the conversation, your mother was showing Edward your baby pictures again. Idly swinging one bare foot under the table, your bare toe grazes the drape of his dress slacks under the table when you get an idea.

 You’d lost a sandal earlier after Edward had pinned it under his shoe in a vain attempt to stop your pinching and dirtying of his slacks with your filthy soles. You scoot a little further forward in your seat to reach out and press your arch flat against his shin.

Edward doesn’t visibly react, just shifts his leg away, leaving yours to slip to the floor until you reach up again to plant your heel on the seat of the chair. The conversation lulls for a moment as everyone says grace, and he uses the opportunity to grab your ankle and send you a warning glare over the top of your phone.

You meet his gaze and boorishly eat a spoon of mashed potatoes, shrugging as if he couldn’t read in your mind exactly what you were about to do. 

Your cousin asks about his mom car again and when you roll your eyes Edward flicks the outside of your fibula, sure to bruise, and you crinkle your nose, pinching his marble thigh between your toes as best you can through the material.

“Well my father thought it was necessary for my siblings and I to-” 

While he talks, he's soothing the spot he flicked, playing in the stubble leftover from your shoddy shave job this morning, and the absent affection gives you the final motivation to further push your luck. You tease the seam of his left leg with the very tips of your toes, coaxing the unnatural heat of the venom to build in the crotch of his pants, the coolness of the rest of him making it seem even hotter in comparison.

He inhales on a forkful of corn, almost taking it down the wrong pipe, and you fight a smile around the bowl of the spoon as he flawlessly recovers and finishes the thought. You idly wonder if you could be that smooth someday. For now, you press further, pressing a toe against the seam over his cock, stroking up and down as slowly and consistently as you can while stretched under a table because who would’ve thought that footjobs are kind of an athletic feat. 

Edward taps insistently at your leg, harder than he normally would, and you have to hold back a laugh at the idea of him splitting the table because he can’t take a little footsie action. You press forward again, arch encompassing his hardness through the fabric, toes curling against his pubic bone when-

“Ho-oly shit!” Searing pain shoots up from your ankle, and you double over, using everything in you not to shout, Edwards dawning mortification going unnoticed as everyone at the table turns to you at your unexpected outburst.  

“(Y/n)?” Your mother doesn’t seem that happy to have dinner interrupted, and you clutch your stomach as a quick cover.

“Uh, my bad.” You snicker nervously at the sudden attention, bravado gone. Your face feels red-hot. “I actually need to use the bathroom, I think,” you lick your lips and slide out of your chair. “Lady problems.”

The table erupts in a cacophony of gags and groans as the notion of a menstrual cycle is brought up in casual conversation, and it gives you the perfect cover to retreat to the upstairs bathroom. It takes you a minute to make it up the stairs without causing a scene, and just as soon as you close and lock the door behind you and settle down to weep in peace, he’s there, jiggling the doorknob like it’s a drug bust.

“Let me in.”

You’re apparently taking too long because as soon as your injured foot touches the floor, he forces the lock and slips in, shutting the door a little too fast to pass as human. 

“Jesus! Edward, are you trying to lose our deposit?” You lean around him to check for a handprint but he doesn’t respond, wordlessly setting you up on the counter, kneeling to examine your injured ankle, cool fingers soothing to the sore skin. You sit in silence, idly swinging your other leg to distract yourself.

“How'd you make it out?” You can't imagine they’d let the guest of honor go so easily.

“You forgot your bag, I told them I’d just bringing it up to you.” He places your bag next to you as evidence. “Maybe you should start carrying menstrual products for when you actually need them.”

Of course, he breaks your foot and wants to lecture you on responsible uterus care. Edward sighs, taking your foot with the gentlest touch and whispering a kiss into the skin. “It’s only a sprain, but I’m still sorry.” 

“S’Okay.” Your face burns, not expecting his guilt. “Serves me right, huh?” You titter, poking his side with your uninjured foot. He swipes it up before you can start again, halfheartedly laughing with you. 

“Let me wrap it before you get any more ideas.” You hand him the compression wrap from the medicine cabinet, and he gets to work. The wince you give at the pressure is more reflex than anything, but the anxious expression on his face tells you he wasn't going to let this go easily. 

“Y’know…” You poke at him again. The playful contempt in his golden eyes gives you the go-ahead to make your case. “If you’re really feeling torn up about it, seeing you wow my family like that got me a little riled up.”

“Really.” Edward kisses the secured wrapping and releases you, standing to frame you against the counter.

“I’m serious, impressing them isn’t easy, (C/n) is probably shaving in the guest room to steal you from me right now, just thinking about it has got me a little hot under the collar.” You run your hands over his back and through his hair, nuzzling into the crook of his throat.

“You’re laying it on pretty thick, don’t you think?” His hands smooth over your exposed thighs sending a shiver up your spine. You think you've got him, but he's such a tease sometimes you can never really be sure.

“Depends. Is it working?” You still, bracing for some line about ‘responsibility’ and ‘your family waiting for you.’

But then his hands are under your skirt, hooking into the sides of your underwear and pulling them down your thighs, leaving them to free-fall to your feet. You clutch his auburn hair in your fingers at the shock of open-air against your cunt.

“Do you think I could let you go back to that table smelling like this?” His sweet breath washes against your ear as he huffs a soft laugh. “I’d rather not go downstairs and pretend to care about football when I know you’re here, hot and ready for me.”

You can’t resist him any longer, pulling him close and kissing him with the desperation of a woman who needs to be back downstairs before dessert. His thumb teases over your cunt at first, swirling over your swelling clit and teasing your hole before he finds a focus, using the thumb of his free hand to hold your hood back as his slicked fingers grind the bud into a frenzy while he sucks your tongue into his mouth.

It’s all you can do to hold your breath while he touches you, cool fingers building a knot in your belly, smooth and steady as they batter you up into a frenzy. He adjusts his hand, his ring finger pressing into you and bringing a low ache from rushed preparation, but you welcome it, thighs shaking with the effort to stay open for him as your mouth falls open in a shaky gasp. Edward breaks the kiss to let you breathe , seemingly unbothered until- 

“(C/n) is coming.” 

“Wha-” A particularly deep stroke has you biting your lip as you struggle to concentrate. “What the fuck does she want?”

“She’s going to ask you where I am.” His expression doesn’t match his words, still completely concentrated on ruining you despite the obvious issue.

“And what am I supposed to tell her?!” You hiss back right as she reaches the door. His mouth closes over your pulse point and you don't think you've clenched that hard before in your life.

“Hey (Y/n)? Have you seen Edward?” Her voice is enough of a mood killer that you have to shove your face into his throat to ground yourself in the moment. He adds a second finger, gaining speed, and you pray and hope to any god listening to this that she can't hear the squelches through the door.

“N-no.” You rack your mind for an excuse. His scent is making it harder to concentrate. “I think he went out for a smoke?” Nice one.

“Really? I didn't smell anything on him...” If all your blood flow hadn't been centralized below the waist at this point you'd’ve asked how the hell she knows what he smells like. He's fully abandoned your clit now, leaving it to pulse in the open air while three of his fingers push and pull at your pelvic floor.

“That's cause he unh-” You slap a hand over your mouth to stop the moan before it can be recognized for what it is.“-he vapes!” Edward pulls back from your throat to look at you incredulously, but it's a little hard to be ashamed when he's nearly wrist deep inside you.

“Oh… Well, let him know if you see him that they’re playing charades and I need a partner. You know how it is.”

You forget to reply, too enthralled watching him spit onto his unoccupied fingers and mash the coolness against your clit, causing you to nearly spasm off the counter, losing the sensation as he silently laughs at having to hold you steady. She seemed to have taken your silence as an admission, as you can hear the door at the stoop of the stairs swinging shut after her. Thank God.

“Rub your spot, Sweet, come on, we have to be quick.” He kisses your temple and laughs a bit maniacally at the little whimper that escapes when you bring a hand down to your clit. “Surprisingly, she’s having trouble picturing me in a vape shop.”

You whine around a bitten lip, too far gone to listen to his ribbing. You’re building up to overstimulation with the sloppy way you’re rubbing yourself, and he must feel it too, because in the next second, his fingers are vibrating.

“Come on, (Y/n), don't you want to finish up here and mop the floor with them?” You hadn’t even realized how hazy your vision had gotten until he grabs your chin and levels your lidded eyes with his and says your name again. You nod sluggishly for him, not hearing a word. He laughs again, smiles wide. His teeth are pretty. 

“If you cum right now;” The buzzing grows stronger, your free arm spasming under you as you support yourself. “I’ll rub you raw after on the ride home. You just need to come right now and win charades with me.” 

The buzzing inside grows too strong, and your vision goes white, pulsing in long pulls around his fingers as hot waves of sensation spread from your head to your toes.

Edward kisses you, soft and slow, swallowing any whimpers tempted to escape as you come down, abandoning the counter to clutch his sleeve as the twitching reduces to a tremor.

“Oh my god.“ You laugh, planting your face into his collar as you catch your breath. “I can't believe you used charades to make me come, I'm never gonna forgive you.” 

“I heard the top prize is a ten dollar gift card to…” He squints and checks again. “The Google Play Store.”

“Ew, what could you even do with tha-”

“(Y/N) come help with plates!” Your mother shouts up the stairwell, totally fucking up any release you just had.

“I guess I should run down to the corner store;” Edward smiles, helping you to stand on wobbly legs and smoothing your skirt down. “Don't want to blow your cover.” 

“(Y/N)! Plates!”

“Oh my god;” Your eyes may never return from the back of your skull. “Meet you downstairs?”

He kisses you sweetly one last time, pulling you close and wiping the sheen of sweat off of your face.

“Downstairs.”

With that, he heaves himself out of the narrow sill, and you busy yourself cleaning up as fast as you can.

You just catch him hopping off the roof, and coming around to the front yard. He'll hear you no matter the volume, but you still shout the warning;

“Stay away from my cousin!” 

[duskamethyst]

cozen.

a/n: just realized that the colors of my banners are different on laptop and phone and that pissed me off.

word count: 3.9k 

genre: smut, nsfw

warnings: noncon/dubcon, exhibitionism, public sex, thigh riding, squirting, sexual assault, stalking, power abuse

pairing: aizawa x f!reader

summary: where aizawa deliberately takes on the roll as your guardian inside the train, but of course he has other plans.

the worst place to be during the rush hour would be inside a train. 

aizawa never bothered to commute because he often walked to work and back home but for you, he was willing to make an exception. 

you caught his attention during one of his evening patrols, walking alone in the big city with a short skirt that accentuated your curves and long legs. aizawa discovered the fact that you used the train to get to work daily and with the fact that you were always alone, he knew that you were always put in a vulnerable situation. so, he thought; why not keep an eye on you? maybe his job as a hero could give him a little advantage too.

like a child, he finds himself eager to get on the train. of course, he doesn’t really know which coach you would be standing in but his commute turns out to be so much worth it whenever he does end up standing in the same one as you.

in the morning, you would be there before he gets in and he’s the first one to step off the train in the evening. he assumes that you live somewhere closer to the end of the train’s final stop but he doesn’t know exactly where. so far, he has learned which station you use to wait for the train for your ride home from work. 

and today seems to be one of those days where he is lucky enough to see you in the same coach, squeezed between a throng of people. aizawa always noticed the fed up and uncomfortable look on your face as you held on to the bar but it was because of no other than a pervert deliberately rubbing his front on your backside. 

he’s sort of mad that you just let it happen, quietly accepting the assault being thrown at you. he can see how your face is contorted into anger and vexation as you try to nudge the man with your elbow and what he assumes as the man muttering half-assed apologies before he starts to blatantly repeat the same shit again. 

you look around pleadingly for someone to intervene and your hands are balled into tight fists, ready to swing any moment but you hesitate because you’re afraid of being the one who will end up getting into trouble and especially since you don’t have any concrete evidence that you’re being harassed either.

for a moment, his gaze locks briefly with yours before you turn away, probably to seek for someone else to come to your aid. he knows that almost no heroes ride the train, since they either patrol on the streets or keep watch from up above but he is currently the outlier, and what kind of hero would he be if he just continues to turn a blind eye on this? maybe it’s time for him to steal the opportunity to play hero and finally get an excuse to talk to you after a long time of observing you from the sidelines. 

aizawa slowly pushes the people aside to make his way over to your side and takes you by surprise by putting his hand on your shoulder.

“baby, why didn’t you pick up the phone?” he sighs and says a little too loudly so the creep behind you can hear. you look at him perplexingly but he just gives you a silent look that tells you to play along. 

“u-uh.. i’m sorry. my phone is on silent.” you try to reply with the same tone. “but i’m glad you found me! thought i’ve lost you.” 

the way you inch closer to him doesn’t go unnoticed, especially how your boob is literally pressing on his side. aizawa quickly glances to the man who still seems to be unbothered by the fake acting (not that he can tell) so he spins you around to face him instead. 

good lord. maybe he shouldn’t have done that. 

now aizawa can clearly see that your tits are squished against his chest through the unbuttoned top of your little white blouse. your gaze strays somewhere else, probably in embarrassment or maybe you don’t mind at all– he can’t tell nor can he think straight right now but he’s here for one purpose and he’s going to honor it. 

“how’s work today?” he inquires, turning your head to him with his fingers so it would seem like you both are engaging in a natural conversation between lovers. he is able to see your tired eyes up close but they seem to carry the same soft look he’s so smitten with.

“hard.” he tenses up a little at the possibility of you noticing the erection in his pants but thank god they’re baggy or else the tent would be obvious. “i missed you.”

aizawa’s heart is bursting in his chest but he places on his mask of unfazed expression perfectly. he still has a role to play after all.

he leans down to whisper in your ear yet his eyes bore intimidatingly into the man’s, “i’m sorry to hear that, sweetheart. but i promised to take good care of you tonight, remember?”

perhaps that was a bit of an overstate, but hey, it works. now that the man has caught on, he immediately walks off the train as soon as it stops– not even bothering whether it's where he’s supposed to go or not as he tries to run away from the possibility of getting into trouble with another guy.

“you okay?” he steps back and takes a good look at you only to realize how you’re avoiding his gaze to hide your evidently flushed face. how cute. “you don’t look so good.”

“i-i’m fine.” you mutter. “thank you for saving me.”

“no problem. it’s a part of my job. i just happened to be here.” he points out in a blatant lie.

you look at him in surprise as if finally connecting the dots, “wait, are you a hero?”

“uh, i guess– yes, i am.”

it’s the first time you’ve ever seen a hero being vague about his profession– or maybe you just made him feel uncomfortable to admit that he’s one when you, a quirkless citizen should be acknowledging the heroes that are risking their lives to protect the country so they should at least deserve some recognition, him included. 

“i’m sorry. i didn’t recognize you and i don’t really keep up with the heroes.” you laugh nervously, afraid of offending the male. though you can’t really tell what he thinks nor can you tell if he even cares from the look on his face but he only observes you silently before his lips turn to a lopsided smile. 

he doesn’t take it to heart, of course, but he finds it endearing that you’re trying to make him feel better. aizawa is not one that likes to be in the limelight anyway, so he doesn’t blame you. 

the number of people in the train gradually dissipates as the train stops station by station, leaving him and you together with some other few who have taken their seats to doze off. aizawa’s platform has long passed by but he decides to stay with you with intent to know where you actually live.  

aizawa doesn’t speak much the whole ride, only answering your questions and listening to you as you talk about your life. he learns that you’re a fresh graduate who just started working in an office and saving up to buy a car so you don’t have to trouble yourself with train rides anymore. he doesn’t know why you entrust him with the fact that you live alone in your apartment, but he’s relieved that you do. maybe it’s easy to trust a hero. man or not. 

but his filthy gaze lingers around your body once in a while– blood rushes to his cock when he sees the plush thighs that are exposed from your short skirt as you sit, the two buttons on your blouse that looks like they’re about to pop off from your breasts and the way your puffy lips jut out slightly when you stare out the window to watch the sun slowly disappears below the horizon to make way for the dark sky. the ride would’ve been peaceful if not for the uncomfortable throb inside his pants right now.

and soon enough, you stand up from your seat and grab your bag in preparation to step off from the agonizing ride. 

“this is my stop. thank you again, eraser head. it’s nice meeting you!” you beam sweetly before you walk off the train and wave him goodbye as the doors slowly closes between the two of you. 

aizawa can’t wait to see you again tomorrow– but now he needs a change of pace. since he doesn’t want to take risk of you finding out that he intentionally missed his platform, he chooses to only ride the train in the evening now.

with his height, aizawa is able to see you looking around as soon as you step into the train with exhaustion written all over your face. however, it’s instantly washed away with an exuberant look when you notice him staring at you from the other side. his heart swells with joy as he watches you push yourself through the crowd with your bag covering your chest protectively.

“found you, eraser!” you chirp as you stand in front of the male.

“oh? so you were looking for me?” he replies coyly, sinking lower into his scarf to keep his burning cheeks out of sight.

you nod eagerly and sigh, “i looked for you this morning too, but i guess you were on a different coach or something.”

“why? you wanted to use me so i’d protect you from perverts?” 

“oops. busted.” you laugh. 

if that’s the one thing that binds you and him, he doesn’t really mind. aizawa is pleased to know that you’re willing to be around him as much as he does. it then comes to a point where you both promise to be in the same coach in the evening.

it has been over a week since aizawa restrained his lecherous intentions. all of those days he has seen you don that short skirt that seems to hug your ass so well. every weekday evening he gets to glance down over your cleavage when you press yourself closely against him and when you’re not facing him? he can feel that ass just lightly brushing, teasing him when the train shakes and he knows he won’t be able to take it any longer. 

what is he waiting for anyway? when this is all what he coveted in the first place? fuck playing the reliable hero. 

aizawa doesn’t want to regard himself and the creeps inside the train as equals. he’s different. he’s a hero and because of that, he got you always wanting to stay close to him without him compelling. you’re so sweet to him, so trusting and you never give him the dirty look whenever he places his hand too low on your back. 

more people are joining in from different stations so as usual, aizawa quickly pulls you into a corner nearby one of the doors which he knows won’t be opening for people to get in and get out. he only keeps guard by standing behind you as you take in the view of the same buildings and skyline.

“you have no idea how much i’m dying to own a car.” you sigh as you stare outside the glass window unheedingly and completely oblivious to your surroundings. 

“yes. you’ve said that a million times.” he carefully inches closer (as much as he can anyway) and bravely takes a whiff of your shampoo that never fails to fill and rouse his senses.

“i’m sorry,” you titter. “you must’ve gotten bored of hearing it.” 

“no, i like it.” he whispers audibly in your ear, just enough for both of you to hear. 

“i’m gla–” you’re suddenly startled when you feel something hard prodding against your ass. you start to feel uneasy and try to shift away but a pair of hands brazenly grab your breasts, almost making you yelp in surprise. 

“shh,” his hot breath fans over the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “don’t wanna make a scene.”

your heart instantly drops once you realize the person you trust most, a hero at that, is doing the very same thing he protected you from. you can see the vague reflection ahead– the way his hands are massaging your tits as he litters chaste kisses on the crook of your neck.

you attempt to pry his hands off of you, but he only grabs harder and pushes you closer to the front until your forehead presses against the cold glass.

“aizawa– stop.”

aizawa can hear panic lacing in your voice as you whimper but he simply brushes off your plea, too busy soothing his carnal needs by grinding his hard cock against your ass.

“no. you feel so good.” he nibbles your neck, sucking and biting the supple flesh to leave a bruising mark. 

“p-people are gonna see.” 

“that’d be really hot.” he hoists up your short skirt to prop his knees between your thighs before one of his hands guides your hip and compels you to grind your pussy against his own thigh. 

your eyes lingers around the crowd in the train, in between looking for help and hoping that no one sees what he’s doing to you but everyone’s either immersed in their phones or napping and even when someone does notice you, they just turn away uncomfortably. 

“looks like i’m the only hero in this train, kitten.” he says ironically as the hand from your hips snakes in front to rub circles on your clit. “feels good, does it?” he coos as you try to muffle your whines from escaping. 

you’re clawing on his wrist in an attempt to make him stop, but the harder you try to, the harder he presses your mound and clit.

aizawa slips two fingers inside your panties, barely biting back a groan once he uncovers you wet beneath his fingers. 

“what a surprise.” he chuckles, smearing his fingers with your slick before bringing it up to your mouth. “open up, kitten.” 

you purse your lips in retaliation but he easily rubs his thumb on your hardened nipple, causing you to gasp and he quickly shoves his fingers inside your mouth. your tongue wraps around his fingers, sucking and tasting your own flavor as he observes you through the reflection.

“you like how it tastes?” he pulls out his fingers from your mouth with a lewd pop sound before tugging your panties to the side and sliding a digit swiftly inside your cunt. a surprised yelp manages to roll off your tongue from the intrusion but you quickly look down to hide your humiliation and away from the peculiar gazes of others inside the coach.

aizawa hushes you as he thrusts his fingers slowly, savoring the tightness of your walls while also attempting to keep down the squelching noises from your dripping cunt. 

“it’s okay. most of them are going to step off soon, then you can be as loud as you want.” he murmurs, holding you close to his body while his other hand continuously rubs your nipple with his thumb to stimulate you even further until your world is reduced to his satisfying ministrations. 

as time passes by, more and more people have left the train while a few sleepers still remain. aizawa already has two fingers pumping inside your sopping cunt and your slick is already trickling down your thighs as you try hard to hold in your whines. 

“please– i can’t–” your legs have grown weaker and you can only find support by leaning back against his broad chest. your toes are curling inside your heels and your breath has come out shorter and deeper as he keeps on edging you until he thinks it’s safe to fuck you without the presence of other people seeing his unheroic actions.

“you wanna cum, pretty girl?” he finally picks up the pace, causing your body to squirm as you moan breathlessly. 

“y-yes– please–”

“you’re really sucking me in.” he groans, dragging and curling his fingers against the spongy walls that makes your thighs tremble as you edge closer to an orgasm. “cum for me.”

your hands are clenching hard on his forearm and you feel the muscles in your stomach tightening with so much intensity. with his finger pressing down on your throbbing bud, you eventually come undone and you bite on his arm to stifle your screams. 

“that’s it, princess. just what you need after a long day at work, huh?” he kisses your temple soothingly as you regain composure and struggle to fix your skirt, but he stops you from doing so. 

“aizawa..?” 

“i had a hard day at work too, you know.” he tugs your panties down to your ankles and picks it up. “i deserve something from you too, right? and i’m not talking about this.” you see him showing your panties through the glass before he shoves it inside his pocket.

aizawa wraps his scarf around your body and drags you to the middle of the coach. the fabric works as a bind around your wrists and ties onto the bar handle on top of your head to keep you restrained and exposed in front of a man that is sleeping in his seat. 

“let’s hope he doesn’t wake up soon, hm?” he chuckles and takes his place behind you. 

“you’re out of your–!” 

you can barely contain your shriek when aizawa suddenly rips off the middle of your blouse that sends the buttons flying across from you and he quickly slips his hands underneath your bra to fondle your breasts.

“careful not to wake him up, princess.” he tweaks your pebbled nipples between his fingers to provoke the slightest sound from you but you press your lips firmly to conceal your mewls. “or else he’s gonna see me fucking your tight cunt.”

aizawa spits on his hand and smears his saliva with your slick, making you shudder from sensitivity before his fingers prod into your hole to give you a few pumps in preparation for his cock. 

“i’ve been waiting for this for far too long.” he unzips his pants hastily to free his cock from its confinements and you gulp nervously when you see it in the reflection ahead– already throbbing and fully erected. aizawa lifts one of your legs up and rubs his shaft against your wet, puffy folds before lining his cock with your entrance. 

you look down at the man anxiously, praying silently for him to not wake up (or maybe just never at all) to see you with your legs spread in front of his face for god knows how long it’ll be. you bite your lower lip hard when you feel aizawa’s cock sinking inside your cunt, stretching it as he pushes through your walls. 

“shit. so fucking tight.” he growls in your ear as he sheathes his cock into you, pushing through your convulsing walls and until he has filled you to the brim. he starts to pound into you slowly and you bite back a moan when you feel the delicious drags of his veiny cock inside you.

his tongue traces the shell of your ear, licking all around the erogenous zone that has you shuddering and clenching down on him even more. 

“mmph– you’re milking my cock so well, kitten.” he grunts, flicking your nipple with his free hand before toying with your clit. 

“ah– he-he’s gonna wake up.” you pant, tugging your wrists for release as if the way it binds so securely doesn’t tell you enough that it would be impossible.

“then he’s gonna get one hell of a show.” he says nonchalantly before picking up his pace. 

the squelching noises begin to fill the quiet air as aizawa continues to fuck you relentlessly. your slick is dripping down to his balls and your thighs, pooling underneath you and you can feel that you’re close to reaching another orgasm.

as your state has become more delirious, the man in front of you suddenly grunts in his sleep and a cold rush of fear instantly creeps down your spine. yet, aizawa doesn’t seem bothered when he remains to be balls deep inside you.

“i think you’re getting off on this, princess.” he says between breaths, rutting into you harder when he feels how hard you’re clamping around his cock. 

“b-but– i’m gonna cum–” you whine, body squirming as you ground yourself to not cum.

your pussy is spread wide open in front of the man when aizawa easily lifts up your other leg. your heels have fallen under you and now you’re just practically hanging in mid air with his scarf and hands supporting your body. he angles deeper inside your cunny and your head throws back onto his shoulder when you feel the tip brushing against your cervix. 

“then, cum.” it’s baffling how he manages to make it sound simple, not having a care in the world as if his reputation isn’t in the line right now. “look at me.”

you shyly turn your head to meet his heavy lidded eyes before he crashes his lips onto yours. you drown into his fervor kiss while the pressure continues to build in your lower stomach turns more intense and unbearable. at this point, you think it’s best to just swallow your humiliation.

“let it go.” he whispers against your lips and locks his gaze with your wavering eyes. 

“f-fuck– cumming–!” you instantly draw in for a deep kiss to make him swallow your moans as you finally let yourself come undone. it feels oddly relieving in a sense that has your mind turned to mush, together with the feeling of an insurmountable high. the moment your eyes flutter open again, you realize that there are questionable droplets of water staining the glass window in front of you. 

“you’re a little exhibitionist, aren’t you?” he mocks, yet proud and even more aroused that he managed to make you squirt in a public transport. “he might need to clean up.” 

your eyes trail down to the man in front of you to see some amount of your own arousal trickling down on his poor face. you're so dazed with pleasure that you don’t even bother to care anymore and you just let aizawa fucks you through your high before his cock begins to twitch inside your pussy.

“be a good girl and take all my cum.” his pace soon falters and he holds you still before releasing a thick load inside your cunt. after he has emptied out, aizawa leans in the crook of your neck to catch his breath before removing his cock and putting you down gently. 

“that was fucking good.” he sighs gratifyingly as he pulls his pants back up. aizawa unties your restraints and your legs wobble once they touch the ground, but he quickly catches you in his arms to keep you from falling to the floor. as if on cue, the train finally comes to a halt.

“oh, we’re here.” he picks up your shoes and bag before pulling you closer to him to stand in front of the automatic door. “do you need me to carry you or something?”

you look at him confusingly, then to the small map above your head; you’re at least two stops away from your station and three from his. “but this isn’t our stop.”

“well, this one has always been mine.”

duskamethyst © 2020 • do not modify, translate or repost anywhere.

[the-iceni-bitch]

I’m the One to Blame

Pairing: Paul Diskant x DA fem!Reader, mentions of Andy Barber x DA fem!Reader (part 2 of Queen Bitch series)

Words: ~2.2k

Summary: Fucking you only made him hate you more.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, hate sex, rough sex, slight choking, cream pie, degradation, semi-public sex), cheating, everyone is an asshole except poor Andy, heavy misogyny, SMUT!!! 18+ ONLY!!!

A/N: I’m just a bad person I guess? I’m just gonna give a blanket apology for my infidelity kink, this kinda got away from me and it’s just gonna get worse.

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!!

As soon as you heard the not guilty verdict you should’ve known what was coming. The growls and rumbling coming from the crowd of cops seated behind you was your cue to get out of there, not wanting to wait around for the inevitable blame game where those dumbasses decided that the scumbag got off because you were a meddling bitch and not because none actually wanted to put in the work to make a case.

It had been almost two months of this shit. You hadn’t even wanted to press this case; the evidence was circumstantial and you were 75 percent sure Ludlow had intimidated at least two of the defense witnesses out of testifying. But then the assholes had gone over your head and your boss basically told you to try the case they gave you and not listening when you told him the jury wasn’t going to swallow it.

Of course they didn’t swallow it. And of course it was your fault. God forbid those lazy bastards do their fucking jobs. You could feel all their ire focusing on you as you started to move towards the door, your eyes meeting Diskant’s as he glared at you while Ludlow ranted at him. Sometimes you wondered if he was as big of a piece of shit as his partner, or if he was just a fucking idiot.

Paul felt his blood starting to boil as he watched you storm out of the courtroom, his jaw clenched so tight he was worried he might snap something. The way your gaze just slid over him like he was nothing made him even angrier, and the way your hips swayed in that tight little dress just served to remind him how goddamn frustrated he was. He couldn’t believe Andy actually let you go to court dressed like that.

He hated that every time he saw you all he could think about was that night at the Bell. He still couldn’t believe his fiancée had bought that the marks you left on him were from a struggle with a perp. Thoughts of how warm and wet you were around him had started bleeding into his mind at inopportune times, and the memory only made him angrier.

Ludlow was still ranting about you when Paul rose from the bench and followed after you, the last thing he heard being his partner talk about how he should give that cunt a piece of his mind. He spotted you heading towards the bathroom and strode after you, growling under his breath about how you kept fucking up his life.

You jumped a little when the bathroom door slammed open, rolling your eyes when you saw Diskant fuming at you through the mirror.

“You draw the short straw, Diskant?” You could see his teeth grinding and it made you smirk. “Go on, lay it on me.”

“You threw it, didn’t you?” He ran his hand over his face as he watched you bend over the sink, telling himself to keep his eyes off your ass as you washed your hands. “You got all pissy your boss made you do your job, and you tanked the case just to be a cunt?”

“Fuck you, Diskant.” You felt your hackles go up when he moved closer. “I do my fucking job. I’m sick of taking all the shit for when you assholes fuck up these cases, grow up.”

“I’m so sick of your fucking mouth.” He stepped forward and pressed his chest to your back, bracing his hands on either side of your body as he growled into your hair. “Every time you open it I just want to shove something in there to shut you the fuck up.”

“No, get off.” You gasped when when he ran a hand up your arm until he could curl it around your throat, tilting your head back so he could scrape his teeth over your jaw. “Paul, we’re not doing this again.”

“You telling me you don’t want it?” He snarled against your neck as he pushed you even closer to the sink, the marble edge cutting into your hips painfully while he other hand trailed down your hip to drag up your skirt.

You wanted it so bad it was making you sick. Every day you were filled with self loathing from the moment Andy kissed you awake until you sank into your bed in a tangle of limbs after he made soft, reverent love to you. But he never fucked you like Paul had the night of your stupid mistake, and when your core still ached as you laid awake against Andy’s chest while he slept deeply, all you could think about was Paul’s thick cock splitting you apart until you almost screamed. And you hated him for it.

“Nothing to say, princess?” Your lip curled at him in a low growl when he sneered at you through the mirror, hissing when he finally wrenched your skirt up around your waist and teased his fingers under the edge of your lace panties. “Tell you what, if you’re not already soaked like a fucking whore, I’ll stop.”

“Ow, bastard!” You tried to turn around and slap him when he literally ripped your panties off you, the breaking elastic snapping against your skin with a sting, but then he was dipping two fingers into your center and stroking your walls slowly so all you could do was whine.

“Knew it.” You heard the clink of his belt under his low chuckle, arching your back when you felt his freed cock slap against the curve of your ass and spreading your legs as slick leaked from around his fingers and coated the inside of your thighs. “Just love to play the stuck up bitch, but this pussy fucking weeps for me. Sick of your fucking teasing, you goddamn slut.”

“Shut up and just fuck me.” You braced your hand against the mirror and moaned when he finally slid inside you, screwing your eyes closed and swallowing thickly when he started slamming his hips into you.

“Fucking bitch.” He slapped your ass hard when you turned and snarled at him, groaning when you clenched tight around him in response and digging his fingers into your hip as he spread your cheeks apart to watch his shiny cock plunge into you.

He was rabid, barely any rhythm to his thrusts as he grunted with each push of his hips. The slap of his hips against your ass and the lewd, wet sloshes of your pussy sucking him back in filled the empty bathroom with your grunts and moans. One of his hands snaked up to yank the front of your dress open and pull out your tits, pinching and pulling at your nipples until you were mewling for him.

You slammed your palm against the mirror when he curled over you and started biting at your neck, not even able to care that he was leaving marks all over you since you were so lost in your pleasure. The hand that was digging into your hip slid between your legs and you had to bite your cheek to keep from screaming, rolling your ass to meet his vicious thrusts while he started circling your clit harshly with the tips of his fingers.

“That’s right, come all over my cock like the fucking whore you are.” His breath was hot on your neck as he kept fucking you like an animal, and you avoided looking in the mirror as if not seeing his face would mean this wasn’t happening. “God, you’re so fucking tight. He ever make you come like this?”

“Shut up.” Your body vibrated around him when he bent his knees and slammed his cock over your g-spot, your legs almost giving out as pleasure roared through your veins and you fought the urge to scream at him. The last thing you wanted was for him to bring up Andy right now.

“He doesn’t, does he? Because he doesn’t treat you like the filthy fucking bitch you are.” He pulled you upright so he could sneer at you in the mirror, your wild eyes meeting his and widening as you took in your completely wrecked state, your makeup smeared and bruises all over your neck while you arched your bare breast into his hand. “But I know, and if I have to fuck you like a dirty slut to get you to quit being a fucking cunt, I’m gonna do it.”

“God, fuck you, Diskant.” You reached back and dug your nails into his neck, grinning wickedly when he hissed at you raising sharp red welts in his skin. “So fucking worried about me, when you’re the one who’s trailing after me like a kicked dog. That sweet little fiancée not keeping you satisfied?”

“Shut the fuck up.” He shoved three fingers in your mouth when you laughed at him, groaning into your hair when he felt you flutter around him again.

Drool started leaking down your chin as Paul pressed your tongue down and slid his fingers towards the back of your mouth, making you gag. You could feel his rhythm starting to grow frantic, the force of his thrusts crashing your hips into the edge of the sink until you were sure you were going to have bruises. He gripped your knee with his free hand and pushed it up until it was resting against the cool marble of the sink, opening you up so he could hit you even deeper and forcing you to brace both hands against the mirror to maintain your balance.

A thin whine escaped around his fingers when he ground into you at the perfect angle, your toes curling in your pumps as you spasmed violently and your release gushed out around him and soaked his thighs. Paul’s hips finally stopped moving when he shot his thick cum inside you, shoving himself as deep as possible as his cock twitched in his release and he buried his face in your neck to muffle his roar.

He surprised you by grabbing your hair at the roots and turning your head so he could smash his lips against yours, tangling his tongue with yours until you couldn’t breathe then growling when you shoved him off you.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” You hissed when he pulled your skirt down over your hips unceremoniously, turning to snarl at him as you shoved your tits back into your bra and started to do your dress back up. “You’re an asshole, you know that?”

“Jesus Christ, fuck off.” He tucked himself back into his slacks and redid his fly as he watched you try to straighten yourself out, a massive undertaking with how fucked out you looked. “Next time I’m gonna fuck that bitch mouth so I don’t have to listen to that fucking voice.”

“There’s no next time.” You turned back around and grabbed some paper towels to clean the mess you two had made between your thighs. “There shouldn’t have been a this time, fuck.” You splashed some water on your face and wiped off your smeared makeup before grabbing a scarf and winding it around your neck to cover the marks he’d left on you. “I’m not doing this again.”

“You’re a fucking liar.” He wrapped his hand around your arm and pulled you into his chest, ignoring your growl as he scraped his teeth over the curve of your cheek. “You want this, you fucking need it. Otherwise you would’ve locked the door when you saw me coming.”

Your full armed slap caught him off guard, sending him staggering across the floor as you gave a satisfied sneer. He stared daggers at you when you strode past him to collect your purse, grumbling wordlessly as you prowled towards the door without sparing a glance for him.

“Wait five minutes before following me, bastard.”

“I’ll see you next time you fucking bitch.” He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand before leaning against the wall and waiting for some time to pass so he wouldn’t arouse suspicion. “Hope you have a good time at lunch with Barber while my cum’s leaking down your thighs.”

You glared at him over your shoulder before heading back out to the hall, trying to hold back tears when you saw Andy waiting for you outside of his courtroom. Somehow you managed to return the smile he was giving you, hating yourself when you let him press his lips to your forehead softly before he was guiding you out of the courthouse and asking where you wanted to go for lunch. You pointedly ignored Paul walking out of the bathroom, his icy stare following after you as he rubbed his hand over the scratches you’d left on his neck.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Shit, Ludlow must have waited for him. “You look like you got in a fight with a wildcat.”

“Nothing happened, I’m just sick of that fucking cunt.” He relaxed when the man just snorted in agreement, tuning out his ranting as he thought about what it would be like to fuck your throat until you couldn’t talk anymore.

[in-the-name-of-styles]

Need You.

Author’s Note: Hello! After answering tons and tons of asks, and explaining how Tumblr had deleted the second part “Please Stay” to my one shot named “Only If” for god knows what reasons. I had to do this for you guys. I stopped writing years ago, and but kept my masterlist open for you to come and read my writings whenever you wish to. Trust me, this was so effing difficult for me to do! but I’m kind of proud that I removed the time and managed it. but let me inform you it’s not the same, because I do not remember what happened in the original one clearly. I hope this is a better and hopefully more well-written (amongst my other writings *cringe*) version of the old one.

It’s not proof read. I haven't edited it, so I’m sorry in advance for the typos. 

So, guys, gals and non-binary pals, I present to you (apology for it being light years late) the part two to your favourite little creation of mine “Only If”, with a new identity... please welcome “Need You”!

Do let me know how it makes you feel in the ask box or comment section. I love reading them. Happy Reading!

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: tons of angst with tons of fluff, sensitive harry???? (or do you guys call it sub!harry nowadays??) anyways it’s a cute!harry :P !

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It’s been four hours, and you still weren’t back. Though it wasn’t new for you to go for a drive after an argument with him, you often came back within an hour or two. The blizzard outside was making Harry quite anxious. Even though the fight was extreme, he wanted you back safe and sound. He now realised how harsh he was on you. You didn’t intentionally leak the song. It was a mistake and it could happen to anyone, himself included. He felt guilty over the way he yelled at you; it wasn’t like him to react like that.

Suddenly, Harry felt the need to do something special for you. Though he planned on apologising to you verbally, he wanted his actions to prove it too. He made his way to the kitchen to cook you your favourite meal. He got a hold of his phone and switched on the playlist which include all the songs both of you enjoyed. the sound of the vessels clucking against each other minimised over the song playing on through the speakers.

A smile lit up on his face as he reminisced back to the moment when you were dancing to this song while making the two of you breakfast.

FLASHBACK

Harry rubbed his eyes as he walked down the stairs, his dimpled smile already making its appearance when he heard your voice blasting through the kitchen entrance. He didn’t know why you bothered turning the song on so loud, you were anyways going to be louder. He stopped at the kitchen entrance, a silent laugh escaped him as he leaned against the door frame and took in the scene going on in front of him.

“You say you want a good time! Well here I am, baby, here I am, baby” you belted out loud, cheeks turning red with the happiness radiating out of you. You’d decided that the whisk was your microphone of choice with batter stuck to it and everything. You’re moving those luscious hips which drive him crazy right to the rhythm of the song.

“Talk to me, talk to me, talk to me talk to me, tell me what's on your mind!” you missed a note but you don’t care. This scene right in front of him, he wished he could capture and watch it forever. Bruno Mars did bring a wild side out of you, and he couldn’t bring himself to be jealous of the multi-talented singer. He would give anything to see you like this. Knowing you’re the shy type who doesn’t enjoy too much of attention, getting to watch you like this was definitely a sight.

He walked right up to you and wrapped his arms around you slowly. You jumped in a scare, as you were lost in your own world. “Harry! You scared me.” You complained, trying to ignore the blush on you cheeks after you realised he must’ve been watching you from a far.

He nuzzled into your neck and sighed, while pressing a kiss there, “Hmm… I’m sorry, m’love. But you just looked so beautiful I didn’t want to stop you.” He murmured while pressing more kisses to your neck, then trailing them up to your jawline. “Y’ look utterly ravishing right now. Forget pancakes, instead I’ll have you for breakfast.” He smiled and went on to kiss your cheeks. His comments made you smile. He saw his chance and lightly bite the side of your cheek. You squealed and tried to push him away.

“H, stop!” you laughed. He tightened his arms around you and swayed to the beat of the song then went on to sing next lyric “Tell me baby, tell me, tell me baby what you tryna do!” he slightly lifted up your t-shirt and moved one of his hands under it, and muttered, “huh? What are you trying to do to me, baby?” and pressed yet another kiss to your cheek.

“Gosh, your hands are extremely cold!” you gasped. He then turned you around to face him. You instinctively wrapped your arms around him. The two of you smiled quietly towards each other, then he leaned down to kiss you properly. You shifted one of your hands into his the nape of his neck and the other went on to cup his cheek. He moved one of his around your shoulder and the other around your waist. Both of you sighed and bathed in each other’s presence.

“G’morning, froggy” you teased as pulled away first and smiled up at him. He frowned and tutted, then smacked your ass lightly. You always teased him for his morning face, said it looked like a cute frog. He rubbed the area he spanked and quickly pecked you once again before pulling away to look at you.

Brushing away the hair stuck to your face, “Morning, precious. How’re you feeling?” he asked, hugging you towards his chest. Let’s just say the rest of the day went on just like this. Him being needy for your attention, and you loving on him without any hold backs.

END OF FLASHBACK

Right as he was getting ready to plate the dish, the doorbell rang. He smiled, happy to finally have you home. He quickly washed his hands and walked up to the door as he rubbed his hand dry with the towel which was once on his shoulder. He buzzed you in thinking you’ll unlock the main door with the security code. But after two minutes of waiting and not seeing you walk through the door, he turned on the camera above his buzzer to see what was wrong.

He frowned when he saw two police officers standing outside his door. His heart suddenly started racing at rapid speed. He rushed towards the door and unlocked them. Coming face to face with the two sombre looking men, he tentatively asked, “G’ evening, officers. How may I help you?”

The two men exchanged looks and the tall one replied, “Sir, there has been an accident and we found an ID on the victim. Is this Ms. Y/N Y/L/N residence? we’re here to inform you about the unfortunate event.”

“I-I don’t understand? What happened?” he stuttered, his legs almost felt as if they were about to give up.

“Unfortunately, we don’t have much information for you. May we ask what’s your relation to the victim?” the other officer asked, and gave him an apologetic smile.

“Fiancé.” He cleared his throat, trying to calm himself down. He could feel his panic attack rising. “I’m her fian-” he shook his head, “Just tell me where she is please…” he pleaded and quickly put on his shoes. He took his car keys and raced up to his rover.

“She’s over at St. Thomas, Mr. Styles.” The officers had clearly recognised the distressed man. “Here’s her ID. We hope everything is well.”

Harry couldn’t bring himself to thank them as he started his car and backed out of the parking spot. He raced up to the hospital, and once he reached, he ran up to the reception.

“Y-Y/N Y/L/N? S-She just c-came in? I’m her f-fiancé?” He gasped out your name. The lady was busy tending to others to notice him. “Hey! Hey! Please ma’am just tell me where she is!” he was on the verge of weeping in front of her.

The old lady looked at him with a bit of annoyance, “Take a breath, young man. I’m trying my best here!” She walked up to him. “Now tell me, what was her name again?”

“Y/N Y/L/N!” He rushed. He couldn’t stand straight. Once he got what he wanted, he ran towards the elevator, up to the fifth floor. The corridor was busy and he couldn’t care less about pushing people aside. He just wanted to get to you as soon as he could. He found your door and barged in, not caring about the doctors around your bed.

“Y/N!” He rushed to your side, dropping beside your bed.

“Sir you can’t be her-” the male nurse tried to pull him back.

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry, precious!” He cried, trying to get the man off of him and get back to you. “I’m here now, okay? I’m not going anywhere- GET OFF ME. SHE NEEDS ME!” he yelled pushing the guy away.

“Hey man you’re no good to her at the moment yeah? Let the doctors do their job!” the nurse tried to make him understand while pulling him back yet again. Tears streamed down his face as he tried to reach to you. He sobbed over your state, blood was streaming down your forehead, and all he wanted to do was protect you and wrap his arms around you.

“No I need to be here! Please let me!” he cried. All of sudden a beep brought his cries to a halt. He looked around frantically wanting to know what had happened. “W-What’s wrong?!” he hiccupped.

The doctor and the nurses around him started rushing around the room. He then heard those words which made his heart stop, “She has flat-lined! Someone pass me the defibrillator!” the  doctor raised his voice.

Harry couldn’t believe this was happening. The nurse had enough of the unwilling man and pushed him out the door, “Sir we cannot help her if you’re being difficult. Please calm down and go to the waiting room. We will inform you about her doing as soon as we can.” and then shut the door to his face. Harry could no longer see you. The group of doctors, covered your body.

He slid down the wall next to your door and sobbed into his hands. Only if he would’ve stopped you from leaving. Only if he would’ve told you that he forgives you and that he loved you more than anything. Only if he would’ve let the argument die and kiss you instead. Only if…

Later, the upset man walked himself to the toilet. He caught his reflection in the mirror. He didn’t care about his red swollen eyes, his sweaty forehead and matted hair. The image of you lying on that bed yet again brought tears to his eyes. The thought of you not making it made him retch and he rushed into one of the restrooms. He dry-heaved and cried. Once he was able to breathe, he took out his phone.

Sniffling as he dialled the only number he could think of, The voice on the other side made him breakdown. “Mum I-” he couldn’t complete his sentence, as he tried to wipe his eyes.

“Harry? Darling what’s wrong?!” she asked shocked at her son’s rapid breathing.

“Y/N s-she is- Mum I can’t lose her. I’m such an idiot. I shouldn’t have let her leave. What if she doesn’t make it?” He wept while running his sticky fingers through his hair.

“Love, what-” she tried to ask him, but he cut her off.

“What if she…What if she dies, mum?” he cried and coughed.

His mother had figured out by now that you were not okay, and might be admitted in the hospital. She tried to calm her son through the phone. Unfortunately, she wasn’t near him and by the time she would reach it might not be enough. So she did the only thing she could once Harry hung up the phone, she rang up his friends.

Harry sat himself down on one of the wating room chairs. No one was telling him anything, he had no idea how you were doing or if you were okay. He was out of tears, and soon enough the exhaustion took over him. He didn’t even realise when he had fallen asleep until he felt a hand brush the back of his head. He opened his eyes and saw his two friends crouching in front of him.

“Hey buddy…” Louis smiled softly. Harry jolted back up, and got up to run towards your room. But before he could stand up straight Mitch stopped him. “H, they just came in here to inform us about her condition.”

“How’s she? Is she okay? Is she awake? She needs me, I need to be beside her.” He rushed. His two close friends, tried to calm him down.

“They said she’s stable now, mate. But we aren’t allowed to meet her yet, okay?” Louis stated.

Harry took deep breaths and looking at their extremely destressed friend, Louis pulled him into a hug. Getting the comfort he desperately needed, Harry started sobbing again. He was tired of crying but he couldn’t bring himself to stop.

“Everything is going to be okay, Harry. She’s our little tigress, she’s going to pull through, yeah?” Mitch ran a hand drown his friend’s shoulder. Harry nodded lightly and tried to slow down his heart.

48 Hours Later

It’s been two days, yesterday Harry was allowed to visit you since they moved you out of the ICU. Thankfully, your internal recovery was rapid, and you could wake up anytime. He was getting a bit impatient. He wanted to see you open those shiny eyes and look at him the way you always did, with so much love that made him giddy and flustered. These past two days he’s been talking to you, continuously apologising for his behaviour, and how he’s going to make up for everything that went wrong. You just had to come back to him.

“and then Louis got frustrated because Mitch was not answering him. But that’s Mitch for you, right?” he slightly smiled and ran the hand which wasn’t holding you hand, through your hair. “You’re going to hate your hair, once you wake up. You always like them a certain way, don’t you? But don’t you worry, I’ll help you wash your hair as soon as you wake up and come back home.” He stated and kissed your hand. He was silent for a while, just continued to run his hand through your hair.

“You’re going to come back to me, right precious?” he asked quietly, “Why aren’t you waking up, huh? Your froggy needs you to open your eyes....” he continued, as he forced a laugh out of his throat which had a huge lump in it. His eyes turned misty as he continued, “I hate it here. Seeing you like this is a nightmare. I miss you so much. I miss you calling me annoying little names. I miss you smacking me when I’m being a narcissistic little prick. I miss your voice. I miss everything about you, and even though it’s just been two day, I feel like it’s been forever. Wake up, baby. Please…” he pleaded.

As the day turned into night, Harry decided to stay back. He asked for an extra blanket and a pillow for his makeshift bed on the couch. He didn’t know why he bothered because he spent the entire night sitting beside you, holding your hand as he fell asleep leaning against it.

You could listen before you could see. The only thing you could hear was the air conditioner and someone lightly snoring against your right hand. You tried to move your fingers as you opened your eyes. The bright light made you squint, you blinked rapidly as your vision cleared. You turned to your right and saw Harry’s peaceful face sleeping against your hand. You felt the need to clear your throat, and your eyes searched the room for a glass of water. But the sound made Harry wake up from his sleep. He lifted his face and wiped the little drool from his face and the little amount on your hand.

“whoops, you’d kill me now if you were awak-” he turned to look at your face, and he had to double take. He gasped, almost falling off this chair. “Y/N…Oh my- you’re awake!” he nearly yelled. He pressed the button to call the nurse and then cupped your face going on to press kisses to your face, “Baby I was so scared. I thought I had lost you!” He laughed his airy laugh and looked at you with utter happiness.

For some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. The words he said to you were the only thing swimming through your mind. For you time had stood still, like the fight had happened mere hours ago. You moved your face away from his hands. Harry frowned noticing this change in your mood.

“Hey what’s wrong? The doctor is on her way, yeah. Do y’need anything?” he asked frantically following your eyes round the room. He saw you eye the plastic cup beside your bed, “Y’ want water? Hold on I’ll get it for you.” He ran to the other side and brought the cup up to your face. You didn’t realise how thirsty you were until the first sip hit your throat, you started gulping it down quickly.

“Take it easy, precious. They took out the tube just yesterday.” He explained softly.

Once your thirst was quenched he kept the cup aside then went on to pull his sleeve over his knuckles and wiped the wet corners of your mouth. You moved your face aside yet again, he couldn’t understand what was wrong. But before he could ask you, the doctor came in to check on you. She did her tests and asked a few questions. She left as soon as she was done, and told you even though the injury looked worse than it actually is, you had take it easy for a couple of days.

Neither of you spoke for a few minutes, “How’re you feeling, love?” he asked quietly. You nodded, “I’m okay.” He came up to you and raised his hand to caress your cheek. But before he could touch you, your head turned to the opposite side. He couldn’t take it anymore, so he asked you.

“Will you please look at me? What’s happened, precious?” as he caressed your hair.

“Why should I look at you, Harry? So you can tell me how careless I am, or how I’m not trustworthy?” you rasped quietly. For a minute he was unable understand what you were trying to say. Then flashbacks from your fight the other night came back rushing to him. The things he said to you, and how guilty he felt later. His words had left a huge impact than he thought they did.

He took your face in his hand with very much to little force, he had to tell you this, “Y/N y’have absolutely no idea for how sorry I am for that night-” but you didn’t let him complete.

“That’s only because I got into this accident.” You snapped. He shook his head rapidly, he saw you getting worked up over this. You’ve always been a little firecracker, and you never failed to tell him when he was being a dick or to defend yourself quite amazingly, he always loved that quality. Apropos, he couldn’t let you hurt yourself in this condition.

“First of all, please calm down-” he started, “don’t tell me to calm down, harry!” you raged. He hated himself for smiling when you’re clearly very upset. But for the past few days he had to witness you lie there lifeless which had taken a toll on his mental state. He loved the fact that you were awake, so you yelling at him was more of a reward than a punishment. You looked at him sharply and saw him not taking you seriously, this brought tears to your eyes.

You sniffled and looked away from him to rest your head against the pillows on the raised up side of your bed roughly. Harry’s small smile melted away as quickly as it appeared. He rubbed the side you almost banged to the pillow, “I’m so sorry, precious. I swear I did not mean anything I said.” He pleaded and took a seat down on the chair beside you.

Right then the nurse which pushed him out of the room the other day and now was much like a friend to him entered the room with a tray which had a bowl of soup and jello in it. Harry smiled at him gratefully and took the tray from him as the guy set up the table on your bed.

“How’re you feeling, Ms. Y/L/N?” he asked once he was ready to leave. You gave him a small smile and said you were feeling better. The moment he left Harry looked back at you with a longing look on his face, when you refused to look at him he sighed and set the tray down on the small table and took a seat in front you on the bed. He looked at you as he removed the metal spoon from its cover, and then went on to remove the cover set on top of the soup. He blew light air on the spoonful of soup, then brought it up to your mouth. You refused to touch it. He sighed and looked at you pleadingly, “Y’ know someone told me we shouldn’t remove our anger on food.” He stated, turning your words against you.

You glared at him in anger for minute as he looked at you with a loving smile. “Please?” He moved it closer to your mouth, “You’ve got to eat it, I’m not budging unless you do, Y/N.”

Even though you wanted to stay stubborn, you were kind of hungry. So you let him feed you the soup. When he got to the jello, you refused profoundly. “But it’s the chocolate flavoured one! Remember the time we used to share one when I was here for my fractured foot? C’mon we’ll share this one too, if y’want?” he tried convincing you with his soft eyes.

“I don’t want to share it with you. Actually, I don’t want anything to do with you at the moment to be completely honest.” you snapped. You were aware of the fact that you were being very unreasonable and bitchy but it was his words that has caused extreme hurt to you. Your words hurt Harry, and it was evident on his face. He wrapped up the jello and cleared everything. The day passed, and in the evening your last visitor entered the room.

“There she is!” Louis came up to you and hugged you lightly, making sure not to hurt you. “Hello, darling. How’re you?” he kissed your forehead. Harry left you alone with him as he went to get the two of them some coffee.

“What’s happened to him? Why the long face still? I mean I get that Harry loves to pretend that he’s this macho man and all. S’ a bit ridiculous to be honest. Like who’s he kidding, he’s a puppy.” Louis laughed. You smiled at this.

“I’m still a bit upset with him over our fight. So I haven’t been talking to him.” You explained. Louis frowned at this and then sighed, “Oh love don’t do that... This has been very tough for him. Should’ve seen his state these past few days. The man has been a mess ever since the officers came to your house that night.”

“I’m trying, Lou. But I just can’t forget all the things he said. I was so hurt, I still am!” you rubbed your forehead, as it was beginning to give you an ache.

“He’s very sorry, Y/N. Trust me when I say that I’ve never seen him like I saw him that day. He just wanted you to wake up. He was just blaming himself, how he shouldn’t have let you leave the house.” He took a hold of your hand, “he loves you so much, darling. He’s absolutely mad over you.” He rubbed your hand, “A’bit obsessed if you ask me. If I were you I’d have him get that checked with a therapist.” He joked, you laughed loudly. He smiled with you, and passed you the water you signalled for.

“Forgive him, Y/N. He can’t even bring himself to go home. The only time he went there was to get some clothes, and to put the dinner he made for you in the rubbish bin.” He sassed. “and I know I’m speaking for Mitch too here when I say this, but both him and I could use a break from all the non-stop stress weeping calls we’ve been getting from him.” You gasped at him with a mock offence for Harry, and lightly smacked his shoulder. You were always thankful for Louis in moments like these. He was a great friend to you and Harry.

Harry came back with two coffees and passed one to his blue-eyed friend. He took a seat on the sofa which was against the wall, and the three of you, though it was mostly you and Louis, had a light conversation while the men finished up their coffee. Louis bid his farewell with another kiss on your forehead and a well wish, you thanked him and waved goodbye. Harry walked him out the door, and came back in a second later.

“Y’ need anything?” He asked as he took a seat on the chair beside you. You shook your head as you observed him fidgeting with the cuticles of his nails. He did that when he was anxious.

Neither of you spoke for a while. But the minute you heard a sniffle, you snapped your head towards him. You tried to get a look at his face, the tip of his nose was a bit red and he was now fidgeting with his feet too. He wasn’t crying but he sure was on the verge of it.

You suddenly felt an overwhelming amount of love for the man in front of you. You leaned against your bed and sighed, smiling a little. It’s pathetic how in love you were with each other. You couldn’t even stay mad at him.

“Harry?” You whispered softly. He hummed without looking up. So you continued, “I need you to do something” you faked a stern voice to play with him a bit more.

“Yeah sure, what’s it?” he muttered as he got up and rubbed his hands down his thighs, then finally looked at you. You looked at him without an expression and said, “I need you to come here and give me a good cuddle, a kiss too if I like the cuddle.” And then smiled at him lovingly. He looked at you for a second. You almost thought he was  going to yell at you, but the opposite happened. He started tearing up and heavy tear drops ran down his cheeks.

You gasped and quickly leaned forward to take a hold of his hand which was near you. “Oh Harry..” You whispered as you pulled him near you. He the minute you sat him in front of you, he started crying heavily. You were so shocked yet you’ve never been more mesmerised by him. You quickly tried wiping his tears away and comforted him, “Honey, don’t cry. I’m not upset anymore!”

“I-I’m honestly s-sorry! I promise I didn’t mean what I said that day, Y/N!” he tried to speak while wiping his tears.

“I know, babe. I know!” you tried to say it properly but it came out in a laughing manner and tried to draw the crying man close to you, but seeing you laugh made him more upset and he pushed you away lightly, so you forcefully pulled him into a cuddle.

He told himself he’s letting himself be pulled because he didn’t want to hurt you, but it was actually because he wanted you close, so he went in head first. You lay down against the pillows and cuddle him against your chest. He went on sniffling into your neck and wrapped his arm around your waist.

“Harry why are you crying!” you tried controlling your laughter. He whined and pulled his face away, “Y’were so fucking mean since the moment you woke up. I didn’t expect it.” He said and hiccupped, thanks to the sobbing breakdown he just had. You pulled on your lips so you wouldn’t smile.

“Well now you know, honey. It hurts, doesn’t it? You were so mean to me too!” You teased. He nuzzled back into your neck, pressing kisses there which always made you giggle.

“I’m really sorry, precious. Honestly, I really am.” He said into your neck, yet producing another hiccup. You couldn’t control yourself anymore so you smiled and pressed a quite a few smooches to his temple, and inhaled his comforting scent.

“It’s okay, baby. I forgive you. I’m sorry for my foolish mistake too, I really didn’t mean to ruin your hard work like that.” You apologised. He pulled away and brought the hand that was around your waist to your cheek and said, “I forgave you a long time ago, but you honestly don’t have to apologise at all. It could happen to anyone, m’love. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. Y’know I made dinner and everything as an apology. But then the officers…” his tone dropped and he couldn’t continue. So, you sadly smiled and pulled him in for a kiss.

He sighed and reciprocated the kiss with so much love and passion that you couldn’t help but wrap the arm which around his shoulder a bit more tighter and ran the other through the back of his head gently. The two of you pulled away and looked into each other’s eyes, he moved the hair that escaped from your braid and tucked it behind your ear, “I was so scared. I thought I had lost you.” He whispered softly, and swallowed the small lump, “I missed you a lot, baby” he said and you couldn’t help but peck his cute pout.

“I missed you too, froggy” you replied. The pet name made him reward you with a dimpled smile. He nuzzled into your neck and whispered, “I love you.”

“and I love you.” You kissed his forehead.

“Just for your information, I’m not letting you out of my sight for a really long time.” He stated sternly.

You laughed but stopped when you saw he wasn’t joking, “You know I have to work, right?”

“Y’can easily take a break for a month or two.” He said, as he yawned and cuddle closer to you. “A MONTH OR TWO?! Have you gone mad?” you gasped, lightly pulling on his hair.

“No I haven’t. Try to get rid of me, baby. I dare you.” He laughed a scheming laugh. You knew he wasn’t joking. He tended to become quite paranoid and obsessive over you when situations like these occur. But you wouldn’t have him any other way.

“We’ll see, mister.” You said, and caressed the back of his head.

“oh we will, missus.”

The End.

Author’s Note: I really put in a lot of efforts on this one, so you guys kind of owe me *wink* y'all gotta humour my praise kink now!!! ;P

Love you guys!