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aressss1 · 3 years

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Through Fire and Ice Chapter 8

(Technoblade x Reader)

Chapter 8

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Techno and Ranboo were hard at work on the mine to the library in the stronghold. It had been two weeks since you had requested Techno to come help you out of your panic. When the two of you talked more on the subject, you were careful with your words. He could tell you weren’t trying to offend him when it came to Phil, but Techno picked up on your fear of Philza almost immediately. He wanted you to be comfortable around Phil, but that was obviously going to need some time.

Even so, when Phil expressed that he wanted to apologize formally, Techno had shaken his head, saying it wasn’t the right time yet. Techno didn’t need to say anything else for Phil to get it. Though he still had a sad look in his eyes. The both of them had seen wars, and what they do to people. They had seen what can throw those people over the edge, and sometimes it wasn’t the war, but the aftermath when the war was branded into their minds. They wouldn’t push you, not until you were ready.

Ranboo had a satchel attached to his side, and every once in a while, Techno would watch him fiddle with it when the bag had gotten in his way. Raising his eyebrow, Techno said nothing, only kept swinging away with his pickaxe. He listened to Ranboo talk, easily throwing his thoughts in here and there. Ranboo was extremely easy to get along with. For that, Techno was grateful.

“Let me just check our coords.” Ranboo pulled the flap of the satchel up searching around the bag. The thing that caught Techno’s attention was the rough texture of the black egg sitting inside the satchel.

“Uhhhh, Ranboo?” Techno set the end of the pickaxe down and let some of his weight rest on the handle. “Why are you carrying the egg around?” Ranboo stopped, he nervously grinned, gauging Techno’s reaction.

“Well, um… You see…” Ranboo fumbled over his words. “This egg,” he hesitated, “likes to follow me?” The piglin hybrid cocked his head to the side, his golden eyes showing confusion.

“Alright, I believe it.” Techno used the back of his hand to wipe the sweat beading on his forehead away. “You’re always finding out something weird about yourself, so this isn’t really that surprising.” Ranboo’s tail swished behind him, and he visibly relaxed.

“Wanna see?” Ranboo asked looking eager. “I haven’t been able to show Phil yet, he’s been too busy.”

Techno nodded, his eyes watching as Ranboo placed the egg down on the ground and went to walk away from the egg. It didn’t take too long before the sound of an enderman teleporting ripped its way through the strip mine, echoing off the walls. There sitting before Ranboo was the egg. Ranboo’s eyes twinkled as he looked back toward Techno. He carefully picked the egg up from the ground, stowing it back into his satchel. The action made Techno chuckle.

“Ranboo, you remind me of one of those parents who carries their baby in a harness strapped to their chest.” Techno snickered.

“What can I say, parenthood has snuck up on me.” Ranboo laughed with Techno. It wasn’t too long before they were back at work on the tunnel. They weren’t even halfway to the strong hold. It was going to take a while before they were going to be there. Especially since Phil wanted the library under wraps. They didn’t need anyone trying to sabotage anything.

Techno let his mind wander back to you, the way you felt in his arms, your scent. Everything about you was alluring to him and he couldn’t understand it. But… He also saw the way you looked at Dream, he heard your giggles to Dreams jokes. He could pretend he didn’t see the light touches the two of you would share. He set his jaw, putting more into his swings of his pickaxe. This had to be some cruel joke on him.

He rarely liked the company of others, always telling himself to be more social when people were around. Some even snubbed him when he tried. There were a few people that were good to him, he couldn’t deny that. He was fine being alone.

Techno still lost in his thoughts, kept going, hitting harder and harder with his pickaxe. Ranboo was now looking over at him curiously, the sight making him worry for Techno. He didn’t know how to even approach it. Techno kept mining forward, his breathing becoming labored. He only stopped when his pickaxe had broken, crumbling in his hands. He stood there for just a second heavily breathing, his hands clenched. Why was he so tense?

“You alright, Tech?” Ranboo leaned in beside Techno. Techno wiped the sweat from his face, his mind flashing to you, your face twisted like the others when they saw him. He hated it. If Dream had his way that’s how it would be. Maybe it was time to put his violent ways to rest? The voices be damned. He didn’t want you to see him as a monster. There was no need to fight anymore, he wanted to settle down.

Phil grinned at his invention for the ever-growing residential area of The Burrow. His arm was all healed up, after many persuaded him to take a health potion from the doctor. This left him able to do his projects. He had installed multiple elevators so that the people building their houses up high could easily reach ground level. His hands rested on his hips triumphantly as he watched some children playing with the elevators, with their parents watching. Phil tested his invention out one last time, going to the very top of the cavern that was eye level with some of the glowstone hanging down. His elytra hung from his shoulders like a cape.

This was something that he had been wanting to do for a while. He climbed over the railing of the landing that led into people’s homes.

He allowed himself to look at the ground, his hands grasping the railing. It was a long way down but having flown across a void this was nothing to him. He let himself fall forward, feeling his fingers slip away from the railing, he fell, and he glided through the cavern toward the beacon on the other end. The wind on his face, the excitement in his chest, his emotions were heightened. He let out a triumphant laugh, as the structures around him started whizzing by. People were cheering for him as he zipped past them.

When he had gotten to the beacon, he let his feet touch down, the adrenaline still pumping. What he wouldn’t give to find a gigantic cave and fly through it. This cavern was only a taste of it. But cavern’s like that were rare. His eyes scanned the area of people busy at work.

His eyes landed on the newest addition of the cave; a hospital carved into the wall right next to where the old med bay had been just two weeks prior. Wilbur was put in charge of the building plans for this, and it turned out beautiful. It was mostly made of quartz from the nether, and it was nicely accentuated with bricks. The inside was very nice as well, with plenty of room for everyone who needed care. A voice broke him out of his thoughts.

“Ey Philza! Big man!” Schlatt approached Phil. “How ya been?” The goat hybrid stopped a few feet away from him. He was acting like he hadn’t called Phil out two weeks ago. “I had something I wanted to talk to ya about.” Phil sighed in irritation.

Before two weeks ago he hadn’t minded Schlatt, now he was just a pain, because people were still treating Phil as a traitor, and those that spewed that hate usually expressed how they wanted Schlatt as the head of The Burrow. Phil would gladly step down, but he never received any official answer from Schlatt. Phil didn’t want the stress, but he was thrust upon this role, he would take the role until someone else wanted to step in. He kind of hoped it would be Schlatt.

“So,” Schlatt grinned at Phil. “I’ve been noticing people’s morale around here is plummeting and I am here to talk business.” He clapped his hands together. “So… I propose, a sort of… arena.” He stood up straight his arms fall behind his back. “We need some sort of entertainment, so why not let people beat the shit out of other people for the amusement of others.” Phil gave him a dead pan look.

“An… Arena?” Phil sighed. “I do have my concerns Schlatt,” Phil looked at Schlatt uneasily.

“Oh, I know you do, Phil. That’s why I’m here to tell you… That there will be rules, to abide by, legal forms and all that.” He waved his hand at the mention of the legalities. “This could really be the start we need for the economy.” Schlatt’s goat eyes peered down at Phil almost expectantly.

“Economy?” Phil felt his face twist up in confusion. “What are you on about Schlatt?”

“Well, you see Philza. I’m glad you asked because I have a shiny new currency, just ready to be used.” He fished around his pocket, pulling a gold coin engraved with an s out. “Introducing, the Schlatt coin!” He gave Phil a huge smile. Phil quirked up an eyebrow at him.

“Sounds like a waste of gold mate.” Phil crossed his arms and shrugged. “Emeralds are a good currency to use.” Phil’s words caused Schlatt’s smile to falter. Phil inwardly sighed, would he really give this man leadership if he asked for it? Maybe… But he was scared that Schlatt would use up resources for meaningless things like the Schlatt coin. “I’ll tell you what Schlatt, you can run your arena. You can allow gambling, you can sell Schlatt coins for gambling purposes, but outside your arena they are worthless.”

“So, what you’re sayin’ is my Schlatt coins are nothing more than poker chips.” Schlatt gave a grimace pocketing his coin.

“Take the deal or not. Emeralds have higher value than gold.” Schlatt pondered over his words. “Not to mention it wouldn’t be hard to fake a Schlatt coin. There’s so much gold in the nether.” Schlatt rubbed his chin, pondering.

“Alright Phil, you do have some good points. This might also allow me to expand into other business ventures.” Schlatt had his smile back on. “Did you know I always wanted to be a landlord?” Phil shook his head. The conversation went on, about Schlatt’s wants in life. This conversation revealed more of Schlatt as a person, than of the businessman. Schlatt was about to turn and walk away when he stopped and faced toward Phil once more. “Ey, tell Technoblade, that if he wants to come fight in The Pit, I would be more than happy to make some money off of him.” With that he chuckled and walked away.

Phil let out a sigh of relief. What an… Odd conversation. He couldn’t deny the people needed somewhere to let their frustrations out, whether it was actually fighting in the pit or gambling their money away. Having an economy would hopefully serve this place well. Services couldn’t be free forever, and trading when there was already lack of resources was proving hard.

Phil started walking toward the new hospital to check on everything. He had a lot to think about, and hopefully this was a step in the right direction for everyone here.

You had earned yourself a good gig working for Niki. She gave you a place to sleep, and she fed you well, in order for your services. This was the least you could do for her. You did not want to make someone feel as if you were using them. You wanted to give back. The last two weeks you had healed nicely, due to a health potion Niki had scrounged up for you. You were running deliveries out to people; they were mostly deliveries of rations to everyone around The Burrow. Techno enjoyed walking with you on your deliveries every night.

For whatever reason Techno was late today, he mentioned something about mining earlier. You shrugged it off when you didn’t see him waiting for you at Niki’s door. Making your way to the small cart that Dream had made for you, you start loading it up with the boxes of food Niki had prepared. You lingered for a second, your eyes scanning the area for Techno. Disappointment set in when you didn’t see your friend, biting the inside of your cheek you sigh. You really enjoyed walking with him.

“Want some help tonight?” You recognized Dream’s voice; he had approached you while you were checking the wheels on the cart. A smile pulled at your lips at the sight of him.

“Sure, thanks Dream.” Well at least you had a friend with you during tonight’s delivery run. “I appreciate it!”

“Heh,” Dream chuckled, “It’s not a problem at all. You shouldn’t be pulling carts by yourself anyway.” His fingers lightly grazed your cheek. “How are you feeling?” His voice soothed your soul.

“I’m alright,” You subconsciously leaned into his touch, feeling your heart flutter. “It feels good to be doing things again.” You let out a sigh of content. This cave was beautiful in comparison to the unfinished room you currently slept in. Techno was slowly but surely working to add a second story to the bakery, and to finish off what needed to be done in the main bakery. The second story would serve as Niki’s home.

“I bet,” Dream hummed, “I’m just glad you’re okay.” The two of you talked, as you started your route. People were starting to get used to seeing you, and you pretended not to notice how they would look at Techno when he towered over them. You could smell their fear, you wished they could see the being that Techno was to you. It was a different story when Dream was with you. People greeted you more as well as Dream, people didn’t act scared of Dream like they did with Techno. The thought made you sad.

You and Dream had just gotten done with the residential part of your route, on your way back to the bakery to collect more food from Niki. Your eyes looked around at everyone’s houses most of them were in the walls of the cave, but some were log cabins adorning the makeshift streets. What caught your attention, was a blank cave wall, ready to be mined out and built in. You stopped and looked at the wall.

“You want a house of your own?” Dream asked as he peered back at you when you stopped. You bit your lip and nodded. Having your own space would be amazing. “We can do that for you.” Dream slapped a hand on your shoulder, pulling you close, you could feel the heat from his body. “Command me to move the world, and I will do it for you.” You could see his smile behind his mask.

“Cheesy.” You let out a laugh. He laughed with you, his grip tightening on your shoulder.

“I know you like it.” He teased, “But seriously, Sapnap and I can help you with your house. I’d say George too… But… I can almost guarantee that he’ll be off sleeping somewhere.”

“Well at least you know your friend well enough,” You giggled. Dream sighed happily at your laughter. He let go of your shoulder, and you found yourself missing his touch. He returned to his earlier position pulling the cart.

“We should get back and do the rest of the route.” You could hear the smile in his voice, and you nodded walking by his side. Your chest felt warm having him by your side. You hadn’t felt anything like this in a very long time. You dared to let your hand pull the cart with him, he only chuckled and you felt the weight of his hand on yours the rest of the trip back to Niki’s bakery.

You still missed Techno, but you had failed to see him when you were immersed in conversation with Dream. Techno saw Dream’s hand on yours and he saw how happy you were talking with him; he couldn’t bring himself to do or say anything. He just stumbled back and gained his composure, his eyes flicked from you to Dream. He couldn’t ignore your smile, the way you laughed. He shook his head and headed back to Phil’s house.

Maybe you were better off with Dream.

#technoblade x reader #technoblade/reader #c!techno x reader #techno fanfic #c!techno #angst #dream x reader #dream mcyt #through fire and ice #mcyt x reader

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halcyonstorm · 3 years

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my contest submission for LH drabble week! @levihan-drabbles

Fandom: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Levi Ackerman/Hange Zoë, Levi Ackerman & Hange Zoë Characters: Levi Ackerman, Hange Zoë, Kuchel Ackerman Additional Tags: Sick Levi Ackerman, Leukemia, Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - College/University, Car Accidents, Doctor Hange Zoë, Angst, Slight OOC, sorry Series: Part 9 of Short Fics Summary:

Hange and Levi were separated for several years for reason they couldn't help. They finally found each other.

At just 18 years old, Levi received the worst news of his life. He was sick. Extremely sick. If someone even coughed or breathed on him, he could die. He had leukemia, a disease which attacks the body’s white blood cells. Our white blood cells are our guardians, protecting us from any infection that dares to enter. He had one friend he wanted to tell the most: his best friend Hange. She had been his friend since the beginning of high school. He didn’t like her at first, but she kept showing up, eager to be his friend. He eventually warmed up to her, allowing her to sit with him at lunch, hang out after class; soon, they were inseparable.

Levi’s heart was in his throat as he mentally prepared to present the life-changing news to his best friend. “Hange, I have to tell you something,” he said, his voice trembling. Hange looked at him funny. He never spoke in such a strange manner before. Hange hesitantly sat in front of him at the empty desk, turning around in the chair to face him.

“What is it?” She asked, concerned. She was starting to get nervous.

“I’m sick,” he began, almost inaudibly. “I have leukemia… I am gonna have to leave school to be in the hospital. I get so weak, and my immune system is absolute shit… I can’t even risk getting a cold, otherwise I can die.”

Hange’s heart sunk into her stomach. She took a deep breath and looked into her lap. She had to be strong for Levi, and she knew that.

“I’ll be here with you. We can text, call, facetime…”

“Yeah, we can,” he replied.

“We will! I’m your friend,” Hange said, grabbing his hand. “There’s no way in hell I’m leaving you behind.”

At first, Levi thought he’d be strong enough to withstand the chemotherapy. That he’d be the rare case to have no side effects. Boy, was Levi wrong. After his first two weeks, his health was tanking. It tanked so bad, in fact, that no one was allowed in the room except the doctors and nurses. Hange was one of the only people to call him daily besides his mom. Hange would Facetime him after class, telling him all about her day. Levi never had much to share from his monotonous days of drug infusions and immobilizing fatigue, but he enjoyed listening to Hange’s voice. Over time, Hange began to notice her friend change: His skin became ghostly pale and his words were mumbled. She would show him the blooming flowers in the spring, the fallen leaves in the autumn, the snow in the winter. She would show him anything to distract him from the excruciating pain he suffered each day.

After a year of chemotherapy treatments, the toxins started to take a toll on his body. He’d find clumps of black hair on his pillow every morning, until one night he insisted his mother shave it all off. Each clump of hair reminded him of the life he should’ve had. Going to class in-person instead of online for the rest of the semester, graduating through a computer screen. He fucking hated it. His physical and mental state began to worsen each week. He was like a walking corpse, sleeping about 16 hours each day. When he was awake, he was wishing he was asleep. Each day he withered away in the hospital bed. He would miss Hange’s calls frequently due to his concerningly deep slumbers. If he managed to pick up, he would fall asleep on the phone with her. Despite her busy school schedule, she found time to text him every day. That is what kept him going.

Every day turned into once a week, which turned into once a month, and soon not at all. He had officially lost touch with the only friend in his life. He felt it was his fault: he had no energy to ever respond to her texts. He couldn’t blame her. She did try. Alone in his hospital room staring at his old texts from her, his heart ached and tears spilled down his face.

Another year had passed when his doctor came into his shabby hospital room with a look of hope. Levi felt his heart begin to race.

“Levi, we have some good news and some bad news,” He began, shutting the door behind him. He wore a bright yellow gown with a blue face mask and latex gloves. “The good news is, your white blood cell levels are elevated. This is an improvement compared to last month’s tests. Since they’re higher, you’re well enough to receive a bone marrow transfusion from your mother, who’s a perfect match. The bad news is, there are many risks to having this transfusion. Your body can reject the bone marrow, which may cause massive complications. However, I think it is best for you to get the transplant. It is your best hope for overcoming this disease.”

With no hesitation, Levi agreed. Let’s do this thing.

He tried to reach out to Hange to tell her the news, but after a week with no response, he was disheartened. A part of him hoped she would respond. He had his family, and for that he was forever grateful, but who would he have once he left the hospital? Who would he talk to? Who would he be? He completely lost the miniscule amount of social skills he had. He did make friends with some of the patients on his floor. Unfortunately, he outlived most of them.

Fortunately for Levi, the transplant was a success. Within the next few months, he began to regain the color in his face, and hair started to sprout on his head again. He was sleeping less frequently, he was finally able to do a lap around the hospital floor without getting too tired. He was still on chemotherapy, but he was regaining his strength, and more importantly, he was getting his life back.

Levi was in (and rarely out of) the hospital almost four years. The day he was discharged for good was a beautiful spring day. The stale air became fresh as he exited the hospital in a wheelchair. He heard the bright green trees rustling and saw some beautiful pink flowers that reminded him of Hange. He took everything for granted until he was cooped up in a hospital room for years. He was grateful to Hange for being his eyes to the outside world. He felt a breeze run through his buzz cut. He took a deep breath, tears helplessly streaming down his face. He was finally free.

It wasn’t long before Levi started searching for his long lost friend. He hated himself for forgetting how to spell her name. Was it Hanje, Hangi, or Hange? He couldn’t quite remember. He searched her name and was shocked to find out Hange was a medical student practicing at Shinganshina General Hospital. Shinganshina General wasn’t far, so she must still live in the area. He couldn’t, however, find any of her social media accounts. She was off-the-grid. Great… he thought. She was always difficult. He was one to talk, though. He hasn't used social media in years.

Throughout the summer, Levi was able to land a job as a mechanic and he worked endlessly. He had to repay the debt he placed his parents in. His mother especially hated the idea of him working just as he finished his treatments, but Levi was persistent. Eventually, he saved enough money to send monthly deposits to his mom and move out. He couldn’t have his mom taking care of him anymore after all she sacrificed for him. He had made enough money on his own to afford a cheap apartment two blocks away from her house.

After getting settled, Levi told himself he couldn’t begin college without knowing about Hange’s whereabouts. He decided maybe if he drove to Shinganshina city, he would be able to find her somehow. Someone ought to know her… He got in his car one evening, punched in a diner’s address in Shinganshina, and started to drive. As he drove, he started to realize his plan was stupid. What, am I gonna stalk her at the hospital?

After finishing a 10-hour shift at the shop, he impulsively drove past his block and hit the highway. The highways were ruthless that Friday night. He had never been to Shinganshina before on his own. He drove, hovering his head over the steering wheel with his elbows tightly tucked to his sides. The speed limit signs read “65 MPH''; however, everyone was quickly steering around him, going way over 75. He was very tempted to turn around in spite of his impetuous road trip; but he couldn’t find an opportunity to do so.

On the other side of the road, the two lines merged into one. One of the drivers did not recognize this, and suddenly swerved onto the other side of the road where Levi was driving. Perhaps if Levi didn’t work so hard that day, there was a slight chance it could’ve been avoidable. The last thing he saw were bright fluorescent headlights before he was knocked unconscious.

“We checked his driver’s license. His name is Levi Ackerman, age 22, victim of a head-on vehicle collision. He was wearing his seatbelt and had an airbag. He may have suffered a SCI and concussion. His heart and lung sounds are normal although his sternum and ribs may be broken,” A paramedic announced as they wheeled the unconscious man through the glass doors of the emergency room.

“Get him up to imaging. We need to do a MRI, CAT scan, and x-ray STAT!” the doctor replied, taking her stethoscope to listen to his chest. She recognized the man right away but allowed her feelings to be suppressed for that crucial moment. Of course she recognized this man. He was her long lost friend, after all.

After finishing the tests, Levi was brought to a hospital room where he was changed into a hospital gown. Dr. Hange Zoe and Dr. Erwin Smith discussed the results: MRI showed signs of a concussion; CAT scan showed no signs of hemorrhaging; x-ray showed a cracked sternum and ribs 4 and 5 were broken. No signs of broken extremities, however he presented with ecchymosis on the bony prominences, such as his hips, knees, and collarbones.

As Levi awoke about two hours later, groaning loudly.

“My chest!” he complained, finding it hard to move. The two doctors turned around to find the patient had regained consciousness.

“Hello, Levi,” Dr. Smith began. “You were in a car accident. You’re at Shinganshina General Hospital. I am Dr. Erwin Smith, and this is my intern, Dr. Hange Zoe.” Levi’s eyes widened when he announced her name.

“H-Hange…” he whispered, attempting to sit up but failing. Dr. Smith placed his hand gingerly on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to sit up. Just relax. How is your pain? We can give you some medication.”

“It’s fucking horrible. Please,” He whimpered, grimacing. Dr. Smith nodded, leaving the room. Hange immediately grabbed a chair, sitting next to her patient, but more importantly her friend.

“Levi, dammit what happened?” She said softly, looking at him. His face was not scratched, it was just the rest of his body that was injured.

“What happened to you?!” He retorted, looking her in the eyes. She could tell he was hurt, not just physically. “So much for not losing you...”

“I was texting you as much as I could, Levi,” she explained, feeling guilty. “I had lost my phone and got a new one, but I couldn’t remember your number. I tried to find you online but I couldn’t… I am so sorry.” She hesitantly grabbed his hand. He didn’t flinch or pull away, but he squeezed her hand.

“I was too sick to reply,” he said. “I’m sorry too.”

“It’s not-” A knock rang on the door and Hange stood up almost on cue.

“On a scale of 0-10, 0 being no pain and 10 being the worst pain you’ve ever felt, how would you rate your pain?” She asked, switching the topic.

“A big fat 10,” he groaned. Dr. Smith wheeled in an electronic machine with a wire and handle attached.

“This is a patient-controlled analgesia pump. You can push it as many times as you’d like to help alleviate your pain. You will not overdose since it has a set amount of medication you can receive per hour. Also, we have some acetaminophen for you.” Levi downed the pills as soon as it was handed to him. Dr. Smith hooked the tubing up to his IV and handed him the button.

“Hange, gather your information on your patient and then meet with me in the conference room.” Dr. Smith left the room, Hange hesitantly looking at her friend again.

“Let me just do a quick physical assessment,” she muttered to herself, grabbing her pen light. As she did her assessment, he admired her. Being a doctor really did suit her. She was wearing a white lab coat with her name embroidered into it. As she would move his gown around to assess his heart and lung sounds, his breath hitched when he felt the tips of her fingers touch his bruised chest. He looked at her face as she worked. She simultaneously looked the same and different. Different in how she wore her hair, in the shape of her glasses, and she stood taller, more confidently. Same in her eyes never losing their sparkle, her focused pouty face, as well as her smile. That breathtaking smile never changed.

Once she finished, she cleaned off her materials and tucked them away.

“Levi, you’ll be kept at the hospital overnight to monitor your heart on the EKG. If you are able to walk in the morning, you will be discharged. Do you have anyone you can call?”

He thought of his mother. He thought of the burden he crushed her with. He decided to deal with this on his own.

“I live alone,” he replied, looking towards the foot of the bed.

“I can stay with you,” She offered instantly. Levi’s face flushed as he met her eyes. “I-I mean… if you want! You have a concussion. You can’t drive yourself or be left alone.”

“Isn’t that like… against the rules?”

“...I am not working tomorrow. I can pick you up and we’ll go from there. Since you won’t be in the hospital for long, I don’t think it’ll be an issue.” The corners of Levi’s mouth curled upwards.

“That is fine with me. Let’s do it.”

The next day, Levi was able to do a lap around the hospital floor. He walked around with one of the nurses to make sure he didn’t collapse. He was ready to go home. Correction: He was ready to go home with Hange.

Hange went to his hospital room in her normal clothes. Her style changed. She used to wear baggy t-shirts and jeans. She looked more mature in her white button-up top and black slacks. He had to prevent his mouth from opening when he saw her. She was beautiful, but of course he would never mention it. Hange walked down to the entrance of the hospital with the nurse and Levi. She went to get her car. A few minutes later, she arrived in her dark red Honda.

“Levi, you just have to direct me to your house…” She began, tapping at the car’s GPS. He gave the address and she punched it in.

“Hange? Why are you doing this for me?” He asked, almost by accident. She shifted the car into Drive.

“I… never stopped thinking about you, you know,” She began, driving away from the hospital. “Even though we lost touch, I still hoped to meet you again someday. You are the reason I wanted to be a doctor… and whenever I lost hope, I thought of you. Whether you know it or not, you pushed me to keep going.” He looked at her blushing face.

He was shocked by what she said. He felt the same. “Me too,” he confessed, looking in his lap. “Your calls saved my life. You were the only one who stuck around. I will never forget that.”

He was never one to say what he meant, but knowing he had the courage to speak those words to her, Hange felt a strong urge to kiss his lips. She always had feelings for him. Her feelings never changed, despite their time apart. In fact, it only confirmed her feelings for him even more.

“Even before I was hospitalized, I took everything for granted…” Levi said. “I have been wanting to tell you something ever since my diagnosis…” Hange felt her heart skip a beat as he spoke.

“Thank you for being there for me.”

At the red light, Hange looked at him and squeezed his hand firmly. She noticed his cheeks were dusted with a red blush.

“I’ll always be here for you.”

He met her eyes, those radiant hazel eyes. He took advantage of the long stoplight to kiss the woman’s lips. He couldn’t contain his feelings anymore. He swore he’d tell her how much he meant to him one of these days. And God, her lips were soft and velvety and everything he’d imagined they’d be, but ten times better. She was shocked at first, but kissed him back. His lips were a little chapped from his rough night, but they were warm. She dreamt of this moment for years (as did he). It was better than how she thought it’d be too. She was intrigued by the quiet boy in school ever since she met him. Maybe she thought he’d lack passion, but it was the opposite. The kiss was full of passion and relief; after years of being in love with each other from a distance, they melted into each other. Suddenly, there was a beep behind her; the light had turned green. Hange chuckled, starting to drive again.

“You don’t even know how long I’ve been wanting to do that.”

#i hope this is not confusing...#also its slightly ooc #sorry #levihan #levihan fic #levihan angst #levi x hange #levi ackerman #hange zoe #hanji zoe #levi x hanji #aot #snk #aot fic #snk fic

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seriouslyhooked · 3 years

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The Bast Bad Idea (Part 2)

Three-part CS AU where Emma and Killian are doctors working at the same hospital (world without pandemic). They’ve yet to meet, but Emma has definitely seen the sexy Dr. Jones in her travels at Mist Haven Medical. It’s generally a bad idea to get involved with a colleague, but a little fantasizing never hurt… right? Inspired by the song ‘Bad Idea’ by Ariana Grande and a TV couple who set the bar for true love stories.

Part One Here. Story available on FF Here and AO3 Here.

A/N: Hello everyone! First and foremost, I want to start with a huge thank you to all of you who have reached out about this story. The response was so far beyond what I was expecting, but I am thrilled to know that all of you enjoy a CS Doctor AU as much as I do. As someone who grew up watching Grey’s Anatomy, it’s essentially engrained in my DNA to love a medical romance, and this story is one I have wanted to write for a long time. I’ve had more than a month away from writing thanks to my busy schedule, but finally my muse came to play and add a bit of fluff to this sweet short story. Chapter two picks up with a critical question – what was Dr. Jones going to propose to Dr. Swan…? Without further ado, here is our answer. Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy!

“This might be presumptuous of me, love, but I find I’m helpless to resist. I was wondering – that is, I was hoping that perhaps, you and I, we could…”

His eyes strayed down to her lips, and Emma wet them absentmindedly. She heard a low growl, and realized it was coming from Killian. She shifted in her seat, turned on in a way she had never been before. Instinctively she moved closer, sensing the sinfully sweet current between them, like lightning just before it cracked across a summer sky. The instant attraction was breathtaking. It felt almost out of time and space.

“We could…” she continued, nudging him along and hoping he would elaborate. She wanted so badly for him to say aloud what she herself was wishing for.

Yet where Emma expected words, she was instead met with action, tantalizing and surprising, but inspiring something in her she never expected. Before she knew it, Emma was in Killian’s arms, aching for this moment, kissing him and knowing she was positively senseless. All that existed was this kiss, this touch. It was electrifying and invigorating, a blaze rushing through her blood stream that emboldened a part of her she’d always held back. Desire. That was what this was, and it was luscious and intoxicating.

Following his lead, Emma broke away from the kiss only to gasp for air as he crowded her body against the wall. The hardness of the cement blocks behind her, coupled with the heat and definition of Dr. Killian Jones was too much to handle. She arched into him, striving for contact, and reveling in the feel of his skin on hers. The only problem was these damn clothes between them. Never in her life had she been irritated at this doctor’s coat she’d worked so hard to earn. For years she studied and poured everything she was into medicine, all for the authority this coat portrayed, but she practically purred when Killian stripped hers off and tossed it to the ground. Pushing his off of his body in return made her mind race. The muscles of his chest and arms were driving her to distraction. Then they flexed, and she swallowed harshly, earning a deep, decadent chuckle from this man who drove her crazy.

“See something you like, Swan?”

God that cockiness. They’d never had any kind of real conversation before now, but the way he smiled spoke volumes. His air and his persona were dripping in assuredness. Emma used to think that she hated so much confidence, but when it came to Killian, she craved it something fierce. It was somewhat infuriating, the way his eyes shone with mischief and conceit, but it was also hotter than anything she’d ever known. Still, part of her would rather die than admit that aloud. She had her pride, no matter how wrapped up in this moment she may be.

“It’s hard to say,” she replied, her voice sounding out with a shredded silkiness that she’d never heard before. “I haven’t seen much of anything yet.”

“My apologies, love. Allow me to rectify the situation.”

Emma watched as this ridiculously attractive man purposefully teased her. With deft fingers he reached for the base of his scrub top, inching the material higher up his body. The trail of dark hair he revealed was evocative, but it held no candle the shape and tone of those abs underneath. Sweet Jesus, were those real? Emma bit back a groan at the sight, her lip pressed tight between her teeth. It took everything in her to keep her hands from reaching for him. She lay them flat on the wall behind her at her sides instead, but they balled into fists unconsciously as Killian eventually tossed the shirt away.

His black hair was mussed now, both from removing the scrubs with that always-present swagger, and from her fingers having run through it during their never-ending kisses. His eyes were dark navy blue, but still they shone with hunger and delight. His grin was a mix of charming and predatory, but instead of inciting a fight or flight response, Emma only wanted to surrender. This was a man who knew he was in complete control. He had hooked her, totally and beyond any shadow of doubt, and all she wanted was for him to have his way with her.

The curses he whispered while helping her shed her own scrubs were like prayers on high, a sweet song to her ears that only added to his allure. Killian’s eyes never strayed from her, but his reactions were so open and transparent. He hid nothing, allowing her a glimpse to the world inside, and it caused the power between them to shift. If Emma was being hunted, then she was also hunting in return, and Killian seemed ready to be caught.

“Emma, I -,”

His voice faded out, and she struggled to hear him. Instead, there was a blaring alarm. Was this a fire drill? Why had the light in the room gone hazy? Still, Emma heard herself whisper his name.

“Killian?”

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

The screech of the sharp, incessant chiming by her ears wrenched Emma’s eyes open, and immediately she groaned in disappointment. All of that – every exquisite moment – was a dream. Ugh, of course it was! Because this was her life now: fantasizing about a hot trauma surgeon ceaselessly and wishing that her memories of him were more than mere imagination.

“Damn it,” she muttered aloud, covering her eyes with her hand in frustration. With her vision blocked, Emma was more aware of the feeling that her body was wrapped up in her sheets. She’d obviously been tossing and turning through the night, restless in ways she rarely was before seeing Doctor Jones. These freaking dreams just felt so real, and they’d only gotten worse since officially meeting him.

That was three days ago now, but things had been chaotic in the meantime. The level four trauma that came in when they’d been formally introduced totally swamped the ER. Emma was called down for consult on multiple patients, needing to give life and death assessments and treatment plans for half a dozen people. While down there, Emma had the chance to see David and Killian in action. She was struck, even in the grips of adrenaline, by their cohesion and capability. They were cool and collected, battling odds that were dire to say the least, but they prevailed. Emma had worked for years to hone her craft, to heighten her skills, and to meet the moments of medicine that her work provided. But the energy in the ER had shifted, and she felt her own abilities elevated by the camaraderie and collectiveness of everyone in the hospital.

That shared experience only lasted a short while, for after initial inspections and emergency consults, Emma was quickly rerouted to the surgical wing. For 16 hours straight she worked to save the lives of four people, and through something that felt like magic, or maybe divine intervention, she was successful each and every time. That good fortune held, not only for her, but for all of her colleagues as well. The hospital had managed something next to impossible – they had saved every victim of the horrible accident, but the work had been backbreaking. When she’d finally scrubbed out of her last procedure, Emma admitted defeat, heading home and sleeping for twelve straight hours.

Her next shift was markedly slower, and Emma had the chance to see the progress of her post-op patients, and to connect with the others in her unit. It was critically important that the doctors, nurses, admins, tech teams, and other staff were all feeling strong and secure. Patients needed everyone working as a collective whole, and Emma took it upon herself to monitor that. It was unusual for a Doctor, especially one who wasn’t overseeing daily operations, but it mattered to Emma. Saving lives took so much more than her medical degree and steady hands. She needed each and every person in the cardiac wing to be successful, and she valued every one of them for what they brought to the team.

Unfortunately, while Emma’s day was slower and steadier, there was also a favorite element now lacking. She wasn’t too proud to admit that she’d willingly joined Ruby on the daily trip to the coffee cart. Actually, she’d been the one to page Ruby this time, earning more than a bit of teasing from her best friend, but Killian and David never showed. Only later, when Emma was at the tail end of her workday and helping with a consult in the ER, did she learn why.

“He was here for sixty-eight straight hours,” David said bluntly, after having confirmed his diagnosis for a patient presenting with a blood circulation issue.

“I’m sorry?” Emma asked, confused for a moment at David’s turn of topic.

“Killian,” David said, prompting Emma’s face to heat. Here she was, hoping it wasn’t totally obvious that she was looking for a man she hardly knew beyond imaginings, but David had seen through her in a matter of moments.

“Oh, um – that’s, well that’s… crazy. Sixty-eight hours?” That beat even her record, and she’d been called a workaholic on more than one occasion.

“Mhmm. We were on the end of a twelve-hour shift when the call came in and he stayed, until every last patient in the trauma department was seen and attended to. I left for eight hours and was dead to the world the entire time. Still felt laggy when coming back. Meanwhile, he caught maybe four hours sleep total interspersed between rounds, crashing in on call rooms. You’d never know though. He was totally unfazed. Brilliant as ever. It was like being back in the field again.”

“Seriously?” Emma asked, amazed at that. She was no stranger to long shifts, but to work that hard for that long was a herculean feat. Somehow, though, she wasn’t surprised to hear Killian had pulled it off.

“Yup. I had to force him to go back to his hotel. Actually, Regina had to. I tried, but until the Chief said something, he wouldn’t budge. She had to spew all sorts of protocol and legal jargon at him to get him to go. Even then, I could tell he was debating whether to stay or not.”

“He has a real connection with his patients,” Emma commented, vocalizing a fact she’d ascertained by watching him in action. Killian cared deeply, and while his main job may be all about stemming the flow of crisis, and bouncing around from one case to the next just to keep people holding on, he kept track of all those he helped, and invested in each patient no matter what.

“Maybe. I think it had more to do with the fact that it was only eight am and you wouldn’t be at the coffee stand yet.”

Before Emma could respond, David was paged for something else. He’d left her with a polite goodbye, but also a knowing smile. Another time, Emma might have tried to fake that she wasn’t interested or deny that there was something between her and Killian, but instead she was too busy fixating on what she’d just heard. Emma carried David’s assessment around with her for the rest of the day, well after leaving the hospital and heading home. She spent the night wondering if what David said was true. Was Killian as interested in her as she was in him?

“This might be presumptuous of me, love, but I find I’m helpless to resist. I was wondering – that is, I was hoping that perhaps, you and I, we could…”

“We could what?” she whispered, getting out of her car, heading inside to her next shift. “What was he going to ask me?”

“Did you say something, Emma?”

Emma jumped at the unexpected question, senses on high alert as she stood before the elevator in the parking garage. When she found Mary Margaret only a few feet from her, and clearly the orator of the previous question, Emma relaxed slightly. She tried her best not to show her embarrassment, but it was difficult. Now she was talking to herself? Jeez, she was truly losing it at this point.

“Oh, uh, nothing. How are you today?” she asked her friend. Mary Margaret smiled widely. Her excitement was palpable, filling up the elevator car as the two of them stepped inside.

“I’m great! Just eager to get to work.”

“Any interesting cases on the schedule?”

“Oh, uh, sure, there’s a few, I guess. Well really most of my day is going to be in consult with the Chief’s office.”

“Wait a second, you have to spend a prolonged period of time with the Evil Queen and you are smiling? Who are you and what have you done with Mary Margaret?” Her friend now looked flustered, clearly trying to grasp at an explanation and then it dawned on Emma. “This is about David isn’t it?”

“David?” Mary Margaret asked, her pitch higher than it had been just moments ago. Emma laughed at her friend’s terrible play acting. Trying to pretend that this wasn’t about David Nolan was a lost cause. Eventually Mary Margaret realized that, and she sighed, releasing the tension in her shoulders as she exhaled. “Okay, yes, I am seeing Dr. Nolan today.”

“Let me guess, he’s also going to be at the admin meetings.”

“They’re about coordinating long term therapies better with our emergency protocols and treatments. So yes, the head of the ER is likely to make an appearance.”

“I see,” Emma said, biting back a smirk so as not to make Mary Margaret too uncomfortable. In the end though her curiosity won out, and she had to ask. “So, any movement there?”

“Movement?”

“Has he asked you out yet?”

“Not exactly.” Emma waited for her friend to explain herself. Mary Margaret held off for a few seconds before blurting out the truth. “I actually asked him.”

“Really?” Emma was shocked. Not because she thought any less of Mary Margaret. In fact, quite the opposite. She was proud of Mary Margaret for going for what she wanted. She just had never ever seen Mary Margaret step outside of a comfort zone like that, and certainly not with a hospital colleague. “Good for you. And he obviously said yes.”

“Why is it obvious?” Emma rolled her eyes, but in a teasing way.

“Come on, you know you two were making heart eyes at each other the other day. There was a definite spark. We all saw it.”

“I’m honestly surprised you noticed since you had your own, what did you just call them? ‘Heart eyes’? Well, you definitely had heart eyes for a certain trauma surgeon.”

Now it was Emma’s turn to blush, and what perfect timing, because the elevator doors had just opened to the lobby. They exited the quiet of the elevator to a hustle and bustle found only at a top tier hospital. It felt like a swarm of people, buzzing every which way, on their own individual paths.

“David and I going to dinner tomorrow,” Mary Margaret said quietly, looking around and finding no eavesdropping colleagues. When the coast was clear, she smiled, looking back at Emma with excitement all over her face. “That’s all I know though. I may have asked him out, but he made it very clear he had plans for how our first date was going to be.”

“I have a good feeling about this guy,” Emma said, referring to David. She had known Mary Margaret for a long time, and she knew how much her friend wished for a real and solid love in her life. Few people desired and deserved that kind of connection like Mary Margaret, and for Emma, there was a real satisfaction in seeing her friend’s instant connection with a stand-up man. Based on past experience, there weren’t too many of those to go around.

“Which one?” Mary Margaret asked. Emma stammered something non-committal out, causing her friend to laugh once more. “And that right there is all the answer I need. See you later, Emma. Oh, and when you see Killian again, just go for it. Believe me, it’s so much better than waiting and wondering.”

With that, Mary Margaret headed towards the wing of the hospital where the Chief and her admins worked. At the same time, Emma turned her attention to the cardiac unit. She had a ways to go to get there, but while still in the main entrance of the hospital she was stopped short by a gruff, and somewhat uncertain voice.

“Excuse me, Doctor Swan?”

“Yes?” Emma replied, looking to the young man who approached her. Taking in his features, she realized she knew him peripherally. He was one of the new interns cycling through the hospital this year, but he hadn’t worked in the cardio wing or in a surgical capacity. Taking in his lanyard, which bore his ID card over plain clothes, she saw he was an ER intern. Interesting. “Can I help you?”

“This is for you.” The young man offered her a paper box. Emma accepted, thoroughly confused before the intern elaborated. “Curtesy of Doctor Jones.”

“Oh,” Emma said, suddenly incredibly interested. Unable to resist, she opened the box. She didn’t know what she was expecting, but what she found made her smile widely. “These are flowers. Paper flowers.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m not entirely sure of the significance, but Doctor Jones told me there is a note inside as well. He wanted me to be sure to mention that.”

Emma was more than excited to read what this astonishing man would write to her, but something the intern said reminded her of the awkwardness of this situation. Had Killian used his authority over the interns to have this delivered? It wasn’t a crazy assumption. Many of the residents and attendings here saw interns as the low rungs on the ladder. They were meant to be learning and training, but often they were sent on coffee runs and foolish errands. Emma never believed in that though. She found it unkind and unnecessary.

“To be honest, it was hard to convince Doctor Jones to let me bring these,” the intern said, perplexing Emma further while eerily reading her mind. “I had to offer about a half dozen times. My shift was ending, you see, and I’ve been looking for a way to thank Doctor Jones since he got here. You know he created extra hours in the ER skills lab? He’s working with first years too. We get very little access usually, because the third years are prepping for exams and stuff, but he convinced Doctor Nolan to extend the hours. He’s even hosting classes himself. Cool right?”

“Very cool,” Emma said with a nod, and another smile. She breathed out a sigh of relief, genuinely happy to realize this man she’d been thinking of was good to others. It also made accepting this thoughtful gift so much easier.

From there, Caleb said goodbye, heading out for whatever interns did with down time these days. Oh, who was she kidding? Sleeping. That’s what she’d done, and no doubt that was what all interns still wanted most of all. Emma though, felt more awake now than she had in a long while. She found a quiet corner in one of the corridors leading to the cardio unit and took a seat, opening the box away from prying eyes.

Inside the box there were six different types of what looked like origami flowers. They were beautiful and delicate, and she wondered where he could have bought them. Only when she opened the note did she realize the truth.

Emma,

As you know, I’ve been away for quite a while, out in the field in a completely different world. In the desert there’s not really that much to do, except survive and keep as many of your people as well as you can. The downtime is long and hot and quiet. I picked up these tricks from a fellow soldier. It kept my hands at the ready and my mind clear, and there’s an honest beauty in them that reminds me of you.

Truth be told, there’s a flower for each time I’ve tried to catch you at the coffee cart since our meeting. Clearly my missions have been unsuccessful, so this calls for a change in tactics…

Emma smiled at the thoughtfulness and felt the pull of butterflies low in her chest. He thought she was beautiful, and he said it without fear. Had a man ever said so much? Had it ever mattered? Certainly not like it did now. Reading on, Emma laughed at the lightheartedness of the note and the bit of cheeky humor that accompanied it. His easygoing candor and transparency enchanted her, drawing her in even more than she already was. Then she memorized the time and place he suggested that they meet at the bottom of the page, knowing nothing and no one was going to keep her from this meeting.

Only after reading through his handwritten thoughts three or four times did she realize an added layer of perfection: these flowers weren’t just handmade and crafted with intention. They were also safe for her to take with her to her ward of the hospital. Being in and out of the ICU and cardiac units, Emma couldn’t bring real flowers into her offices without putting some patients at risk, but she could have these. From within the box she selected a bright yellow blossom, beautiful and intricate and folded to perfection. Wordlessly she tucked it away in her pocket. The others were deposited for safe keeping in her office as soon as she arrived back in the East Wing, and displayed on her windowsill, brightening the space.

The hours between the start of her shift and the time she was meant to meet Killian passed by slowly. Her rounds usually distracted her, but not today. While she still gave all due attention to her patients, Emma had that sense in the back of her mind that this afternoon would bring so much more to the forefront. The promise of seeing him again kept her heart pattering faster than it should be, and by the time the clock was minutes from their meeting, she was positively bursting with anticipation.

“Okay, usually I would give you a hard time and pretend to tag along, but even I can’t mess with a smile like that.” Ruby’s words snapped Emma’s focus back to the hallway where she was standing, pretending to read a chart. As she looked to her friend, however, she would never be able to recall what was on the screen in front of her. Ruby grinned when their eyes met. “He gave you the flowers, didn’t he?”

“You knew?” Emma asked and Ruby nodded.

“Yup. Ran into him at the cart a couple of times. He was really starting to piss off the kiosk guy with all his loitering. Had to give him a hundred dollars just to shut him up.”

“He didn’t!”

“No, I wouldn’t let him. I told Boris to shut it unless he wanted a hospital wide nurses strike. Guy knows better than to cross me. He just acts tough for clout.” Emma laughed, knowing her friend truly ran this place in most ways. But then the apprehension of the moment caught up to her again, and Emma’s brow furrowed in worry. “Oh no you don’t. No doubting this, Ems. I’ve vetted this guy. Run all the background, checked all the sources. He’s a good one, a one in a million, needle in a haystack, diamond in the rough kind of man. And, to top it all off, he’s crazy about you.”

“You think?” Emma asked and Ruby nodded.

“I know, but that’s all I’m saying. Let Killian speak for himself, okay? And, even though it’s hard, try and trust this.”

“I think I already do,” Emma whispered. “Trust him, I mean. But that’s crazy, right?”

“Love tends to be that way.”

“Ruby.”

“Emma,” her friend parroted, taking her hand and squeezing gently. “Just go for it. Go for it and see for yourself.”

With a nod, and the validation that she needed to hear from a trusted friend, Emma headed off. It felt natural and expected to make her way towards the center of the hospital once more. This time though, she passed the coffee cart, with only a fleeting glance. Killian wasn’t meeting her there today. In fact, she wasn’t entirely sure where they were meeting. She followed the directions he’d given her, up a few more flights of stairs and through the wing with pediatric patients and newborns. She had been here many times before, for consults and comfort. It was a draw here in the hospital – the cuteness of babies just starting their journeys in the new world. Emma looked at them today, noticing the vibrancy inside the nursery, but didn’t linger. Instead, she followed the last of the route that Killian had given her and ended up somewhere she’d never been before. A place that must have just finished being renovated.

“Wow,” Emma whispered, walking into the sunlight on the open terrace.

With the glass surroundings and the plant life everywhere, this place was beautiful. There were pergolas and hanging vines, topiaries and flowering plants, daffodils and tulips, all breathing in the spring. It felt like a park, floating in the air, with the sounds of the city barely audible below. Emma could imagine the kids and the families who would come here someday. She hoped it would be a space for them to find some peace and happiness while staying in this unfamiliar and often stressful place. Hospitals were rarely any fun for patients, necessary as they may be, but this space was beautiful enough to distract from that.

“You made it, love.” The deep rumble of that familiar voice sent a shiver through Emma’s whole body. She cast a glance over her shoulder, finding Killian, leaning against the stone façade of the building behind them. In his hands were two coffees, and as he moved towards her, he offered her one with a boyish smile. “This is for you. Didn’t want you missing a routine caffeine fix for my sake.”

“Thank you,” Emma said automatically, feeling his fingers brush across hers, sending a zing of awareness through her. Her eyes flashed up to his, and she knew he felt it too. Suddenly she had no want or need for this coffee. She cleared her throat slightly before continuing on. “Where exactly are we? And how, might I ask, does the new guy know about it before I do?”

“It’s the Hubbard Family Wellness Gardens, gifted by one of the hospital’s most loyal benefactors” he said, full of knowledge. Emma was shocked that he actually knew what this place would be but then he smiled, gesturing to the plaque bearing that information. She bit back a laugh. “And as for how I found it, that’s easy. I never leave well enough alone, and I’m curious by nature. I’ve been nearly everywhere in the hospital now, but this place seemed the best for what comes next.”

“What comes next?” Emma asked, her voice hitching up as she repeated the words.

“Aye,” Killian murmured, his tone dipping sensually low. She swallowed harshly as he entered into her space, and he tracked the motion. She felt the heat of his closeness, and caught his scent in the air, clean, and male, and with a hint of spice.

“I’m afraid I didn’t think this through,” he said, close enough to kiss her. God, how she wished he would kiss her. Emma vocalized her first thought.

“Really? I did. Like a lot.”

His smirk told her she’d said that aloud even though she never meant to, but before she could react, he took hold of her cup once more.

“I meant these,” he gestured to the coffee in her hand. Oh, right. “May I, love?”

Emma nodded, and shakily let go of the cup she forgot she was holding. With deft hands, Killian placed their drinks back on a table beside them with far more poise than she could muster at the moment. When that was done, he stepped towards her again, looking at her with a glint in his blue eyes that made her heart skip. His hands came to her body, one to her hip, the other to cup her cheek. The rightness washed over her, and so did the realization that none of her dreams could actually prepare her for real intimacy with Killian Jones.

“Last time we spoke I intended to ask you something. Do you remember?”

“Yes, I remember,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from wanting this so badly. Without thinking, she wet her lips, and he caught the action, letting out a groan that mixed pain with passion and pleasure. Then he cursed, a totally British ‘bloody hell’ falling past his lips before dipping his mouth to hers and giving them both a taste of temptation.

The kiss was… beyond incredible, but Emma was so deep in it she had no ability to comprehend anything at all. She was consumed with the moment, arching against Killian, feeling the silky strands of his dark hair and the scruff of his beard. His kiss was assured and passionate, dominant and indulgent all at once. She succumbed to the sensations, and let the rightness surge within her, not caring at all that they were outside or at work or that they’d just met. Instinct took over, and her gut, which Emma had always trusted, was telling her that this man was even more than she imagined, and someone she should choose to let in.

Pulling back from the kiss, Emma and Killian stayed close, and Emma took stock of all the places they were touching. His hold on her was firm but caring, like she was precious, and he wouldn’t let her slip away. In his eyes she saw so much emotion, and again she was struck by his transparency and trust. He wasn’t shying away from her or the moment. He was in the depths of desire with her, and their kiss, that perfect, sexy as all hell kiss, had left him tongue tied. The quiet wasn’t awkward, but assuring, and Emma felt secure here, safe even, while also being filled with more unknown wonder than she’d ever been before. Like someone at the start of a glorious adventure, she took a next step born of passion and hope.

“I’m off at six tonight… so, you want to pick me up at seven thirty?” she asked, referencing a date he hadn’t actually asked her out on. She feigned ignorance even though she could read him like a book. “Unless you were going to ask me something else…”

His hold on her tightened, and he shook his head immediately. She was right. He wanted a date – and she saw no reason to wait when she wanted one just as badly. She grinned at him, loving how the tables had turned. This time he swallowed harshly, and she was oh so tempted to kiss him again and see if he’d stay shy or rise to her challenge.

“It’s a date, Swan,” he said dazedly.

Emma hummed out her agreement, going in for one last fleeting kiss. But where she meant to only tease, he took the reins again, kissing her senseless and leaving her breathless when they finally broke apart. Only when her pager beeped with an incoming call did they end their inevitable interlude, and as they did, Emma felt a pang of longing, wishing this moment could last so much longer than this.

“Tonight, love,” he whispered, running his thumb against her lips. “Far away as it may seem, I promise the wait will be worth it.”

“Good,” she replied, nipping his thumb ever so softly, and bringing the fire back in his eyes, before taking a step back. And with that, and just enough presence of mind to grab her coffee, Emma headed off, back through the hospital to the work that awaited her, knowing she could and would get through anything today for the promise of tonight.

Post-Note: Ah!! Finally!! I got the words on the page!! I did the thing!! I wrote the story!! And honestly, it’s such a relief. It felt, at some points, like I may never get this chapter written, but finally today it came. I know many of you were waiting, and I cherished every comment and review and message along the way. I hope all of you who wrote me, and those who read along with chapter one, all enjoy this installation. I write these stories for me and to brighten my world ever so slightly, but also in the hopes that they’ll spark joy for others too. In a time like this, a little joy goes an awful long way. Anyway, thank you all for reading, sending you the best, and hope you’ll join me next time for the final chapter of this CS AU! xE

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buckyswheezes · 3 years

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Cruel Summer (Pt. 1/2)

Premise: Steve was 7, Bucky was 6, and you were 4 when you became family. And it was in the summer of your last year in high school when things started to change.

Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes / What doesn't kill me makes me want you more

author's note: First of all, this did not go the way I planned it to. Second, I was wrong; this isn't one-shot but a two-shot fic. Finally, I hope you guys like it. Again, @lokisblackwidow's post made me do this. Sorry if it's different from what you expected it to be.

warning: this fic contains cursing, sexual shit, and incest. Read at your own risk

It's been 15 years since your family moved to New York to start anew. The concrete jungle, skyscrapers, and bustling broadway shows were a stark contrast to California's tropical and easy-going nature. You were too young, though, to notice such things because you were just three years old at the time and mostly spent your time confused because you haven't seen your mom in a long time.

It's only been dad and your brother Steve for weeks now, and both didn't know how to tie your hair the way you like or read those bedtime stories you loved so much. Years later, you finally realized why -she died. The next thing you knew, you have a new mom and a new brother. It's been that way since.

"How's the college application going?" Steve's gruff voice came from the ongoing Facetime.

"I haven't had my breakfast. Can I please have my breakfast first?" You replied, annoyed. You didn't want to be reminded of that first thing in the morning. You slumped down on the seat beside your mom, and she handed you a cup of freshly brewed coffee. "Thanks, mom," You muttered.

Your dad sat on the other side of the table, flipping through the day's paper, and beside him sat Bucky, stuffing his face with bacon, completely ignoring the chaos around him. The empty seat beside him was where Steve sat (when he's home, that is, which was rare nowadays), but the tablet with his huge face plastered in it was placed on the space on the table, so it felt as if you were all still having breakfast together.

"Ooh, someone's grumpy."

"I'm gonna beat your ass when you get home." You threatened.

"Well, joke's on you 'cause I'm not."

"You're not?" Mom frowned.

Steve shifted to look at her. "I took a summer course this year, Biostats. It'll help with my thesis."

"You sure you're not just fonduing with Maryland girls in the summer?"

"Shut up, Buck. You're the playboy in the family, not me."

"Alright, boys!" Your mom chastised then turned to Steve again. "Well, you take care, and if you need anything, just give us a call."

"Will do."

Steve attended Johns Hopkins University -unarguably one of the best universities in America when it comes to Medicine. He'd always wanted to be a doctor, and even though he never said it, you knew it was because of your biological mom. He could've gotten into Harvard, but like you, Steve itched to get out of New York for a change of environment. It was only Bucky who didn't want to go anywhere, and so he attended NYU.

You love New York, no doubt about that. You grew up exploring its Burroughs, and the Central Park had been a staple in your formative years, but lately, you just wanted to get away from all of it. Recently, something changed, and you convinced yourself that it was because it's your last year in high school and you will be going to college soon.

But you knew there was something else. Well, maybe it was also because you turned 18 early this year, you're legal now, and with your going to college on the other side of the coast, you were excited to have a bit of freedom. CalArts was your first choice, being into Performing Arts and all that. Now, your parents weren't painfully strict, but being the youngest and only girl in the family, they couldn't help but be a little protective.

When Steve went to Baltimore two years ago, you were quite relieved. You get it; you're his only sister, but the way he used to hover around and scare away boys grated your nerves. You were just thankful that by sophomore year, he was gone. He'd passed on the mantle to Bucky, but he didn't really care -well, not as much as Steve did.

"Dad, don't forget you're picking me up later after school. I can't be late for my rehearsal." You reminded. Across the table, your old man's jaw dropped.

"I'm sorry, honey, was that today?"

"Uhh yeah, you forgot already?"

"Sorry, it slipped my mind, honey. How about you pick her up, Buck?" He turned to your step-brother.

"What?!" You shrieked in unison.

"I can't. I have stuff to do." He whined. You roll your eyes at his lame excuse.

"No, it's fine. I'll just ask Peter to come with me."

"Who's he, your new boyfriend?" Bucky spat.

You glared at him across the table. "No, he's not. I don't even have a boyfriend; you and Steve made sure of that." You downed the last of your coffee before shooting daggers at him once more. "Don't pick me up. Go do your stuff."

"Bucky…" It was mom's turn to speak.

"Fine!" He grumbled.

————

"Bye, Peter. See you around!" You stood up from the bench where you and your friend sat as soon as you saw Bucky drove up the school's entrance.

You don't know what your step-brother's problem was, but lately, he'd been nothing but irritable and annoyed, especially with your presence. You didn't wait for him to call you, so you jogged as quickly as you could across the schoolyard, silently climbing on the passenger seat as soon you reached where he pulled over.

You cast a wary glance at him; he didn't speak to you since you got on. He didn't even acknowledge your presence. His jaw was set, and he was intent on ignoring you, it seems, for the duration of the ride.

You and Bucky weren't always like this. You two were close; you played a lot when you were kids, you built forts, you wrestled, you chased each other with whatever gooey stuff you put your little hands on. Over the years, he became distant. You'd started to feel distant when Bucky and Steve entered junior high -you just couldn't relate to the stuff they talk about anymore. You're still very close with Steve, but with Bucky, he just drifted further away, especially when you entered high school. Bucky was only two years ahead, so you always saw him around during your freshman year. He was very popular, it seems. Senior girls used to befriend you in hopes of getting close to your step-brother.

You couldn't take it any more of his animosity, so you fully faced him, shifting in your seat. "Have I done something wrong, Buck?"

He looked at you incredulously for a second before turning his attention back on the road.

Annoyed at his lack of response, you hit his shoulder with your fist.

"What the hell y/n! I'm driving. Do you want us to die?!" He growled.

You retreated back to your seat, feeling remorseful for a second. Only for a second, then you burst out crying. "I hate you! I wish you're not my brother!"

You heard him chuckle, but he obviously wasn't amused. "Yeah, wish you weren't my sister too."

———

Bucky was in his last year in high school when he noticed it. He was waiting outside the school library because you said you needed to borrow a book before the two of you go home.

When Steve went off to college, he promised he'd look after you. He noticed firsthand how guys from all grade levels flock to you, hoping they'd catch your attention. Now, Bucky knew what these guys really want, and that's to get in your pants. Over his dead body would he allow that to transpire. So you two always walked home together.

He craned his neck to peek through the giant doors, wondering what's taking you long when he saw you chatting with a guy. His brows furrowed while his lips formed a thin, grim line.

Your smile reached your ears, your eyes glistened in obvious delight, and your cheeks flushed. Your shy gaze was directed at the guy in front of you.

Bucky frowns even more, when the guy ruffled your hair, a gesture that only he has the right to do (he believes). He felt a vein in his head pop in irritation. He felt like punching someone.

"Hey, Buck, let's go!" You chimed, pulling him out of his murderous thoughts.

"Who were you talking to?"

"Oh, that's Stephen. A junior in the dance club." You almost giggled.

"Huh." He scoffed.

The next time he noticed it happen was when he stayed around to watch your cheer dance rehearsals. Your skimpy cheerleader outfit didn't leave much to the imagination; that's why he decided to hover around, ready to pounce on whoever looked at you the funny.

Bucky looked away for a second to glance at his phone when screams filled the schoolyard. The next thing he knew, you were in the air -free-falling. He ran as fast as his feet could take him to catch you, his heart pounding in his ears. Fortunately, someone was there to catch you before you hit the ground.

You fell on top of the guy -Stephen. He gritted his teeth, half-annoyed, half-grateful at the piece of shit. He saw how you stayed on top of him for a few seconds more; furiously blushing. The moment he reached you, Bucky yanked you up and from the guy's body.

"You okay?" He fussed, searching your body for any sign of injury.

"I'm fine, Buck. Stephen caught me." You bit your lip as you shyly looked back at the guy. "Umm, thanks again."

"Yeah, thanks, man," Bucky grumbled, pulling you away from the group.

The way your body rested on another guy just didn't sit well with him. Once again, he felt like punching someone, and that someone is Stephen. He hated the way the guy was always around you. Bucky was sure what his motive was, and he'll never let him get it.

"I want ice cream." You muttered later that afternoon on your way home.

Bucky scoffed at your request. "What are you, five?"

You stopped walking and faced him, a pout on your lips. "Steve always buys me ice cream."

"Well, I'm not Steve."

"Please, I fell off someone's shoulder and almost hit my head. What if I died?"

"What has that got to do with ice cream?"

"I hate you. You're the worst brother, ever."

Bucky chuckled at your antics; he knew you didn't mean it. You just say that to get what you want because when you were kids, Steve and he used to compete for the Best Brother Award. "Fine." He conceded with a smile. He grabbed your grabbed, and you both ran to the nearest ice cream parlor, ordering one big bowl of banana split sundae and stuffing your faces.

Bucky's whole body tensed when your moans filled your ears. He didn't mind it back then, you were young and innocent, but now, Bucky couldn't ignore the sound spilling from your mouth. Sweat dripped down his nape.

This isn't right.

Your moans seem to ring louder in his ears. The way you licked your spoon clean was not helping his situation either. Bucky thinks about the thin line between sanity and insanity when the chocolate syrup trickled from your lips down to your chin until it reached the supple skin of your neck.

"I need to go to the bathroom." He muttered and hastily jolted from his seat, scrambling away from you. Bucky has a growing problem inside his pants, and he needs to take care of it.

Stop this, Bucky, you need to stop this! His mind chastised while his hands unbuckled his belt. You shouldn't feel this… this way towards her. He's your step-sister. It's wrong.

As soon as he reached his release, he made up his mind. He'll stay away from you; kinda impossible since you both live in the same house, but he'll try his best for both your sakes.

Bucky stopped waiting for you after school. He stopped watching your rehearsals. He stopped helping you with your Math home works and, much to your mom's surprise, he started watching evening dramas with her in the living room every night.

So to answer your question, the one you shot at him when he picked you up from school that day. Yes, you did something wrong.

You grew up. And it's been hard for him to see you as his step-sister ever since.

——————

The last day of school finally rolled in, and you intended to enjoy summer before you start college. What you didn't see coming, though, was being left alone with Bucky for one whole week because your parents are going on a cruise.

"Can't I come with you?" You pleaded, eyes wide as you hauled your mom's baggage into the back of the taxi.

"Sorry, honey. Promise, we'll be back as soon as we can." She replied before giving you a hug.

"Don't leave me here. Bucky's gonna bully me all week."

"He won't, right Bucky?" She raised a brow at him, who stood with his arms crossed, looking annoyed.

"Try not to destroy the house while we're away." Was their final reminder before they went on their way.

Bucky was the first one to get back inside the house. Dread ate up your insides; you two haven't spoken since the car ride. You decided once and for all to get things straight with him. So you marched inside about five minutes later.

Bucky heard you barge in his room, but he remained still -eyes closed and pretending to be asleep. He jolted up when you unceremoniously hit his stomach with a pillow.

"What the hell, y/n?!" He snarled, clearly pissed at your assault.

Your nose flared at his attitude. "What is your problem, James Barnes?" You growled in return.

"Am I the one with a problem here?"

"Oh, come on! You know what I mean!"

Bucky pushed past you; you trailed behind, following his figure towards the living room. He needed to get away from you, fast. It irked him that you wouldn't stay the fuck out of his way. You'd even come and gone into his room. Bucky couldn't take it; he'd go crazy.

"Why are you avoiding me? Bucky!… Bucky! Answer me, damn it!"

"I don't know what you're talking about, y/n. So, leave me alone." He was about to reach the door when you threw yourself in front of it, barring his way out. "Move."

"NO! You're not going anywhere until you tell me what's wrong." You crossed your arms, planting your feet firmly on the floor. You weren't gonna let this day end without knowing why Bucky acts the way he does. If it was something that you did, then you'd wholeheartedly make it right, but you'll never know if he keeps on brushing you off. So, here you are.

"Y/n, move." Bucky hissed menacingly."

"No, Bucky." You replied in the same manner.

After your brief glaring contest, Bucky finally looked away, sighing in defeat. "Fine. Something's not right, okay? But it's not you, it's… it's… me, so let me handle this myself."

You relaxed and took a step closer to him. "Can't you tell me? I might be able to help."

Bucky looked away. How could he possibly tell you that he's harboring un-brotherly feelings towards you -his step-sister. How could he possibly tell you that you turn him on, that he's having inappropriate thoughts about you for a year now? How could he possibly tell you that he might be falling in love with you?

All those times you spent together when Steve was gone. The times you intently and genuinely listened to his adolescent problems. The times you cheered for him when he played football in high school. You were his number one fan. You were so different from the others, and he hated how it made him look at you differently. He hated when you boys started coming into your life. He always believed that you had a special place in your heart for him, but now he feared that anyone might snatch that place from him. You were his best girl.

Bucky grimaced at his realization. He finally admitted to himself that he is, indeed, falling in love with you. He felt angry at himself. How could he let this happen? He thought he was in control of his emotions.

"Eventually, I'll tell you. But not now." He said softly, hoping you'd let him go.

But you were persistent. "No, Bucky. I want you to tell me now." You demanded.

"Y/n," He growled loudly this time. "Move out of my way!"

"I won't until you tell me."

"Move!"

"Just tell me!"

Bucky's resolve broke. The sirens in his mind went off, but he ignored them as he strode towards you intently. He smirked when your bravado faltered before vanishing completely when he pushed you against the door; your bodies pressed together, making sure you could feel the tent growing against his pants.

Your eyes widened in shock. "Wha-"

"You wanna know why? Huh," He asked through gritted teeth, his face hovered dangerously close to yours that you could feel the hot breath coming through his nose. Bucky didn't give you time to answer because he roughly crashed his lips towards yours. He wasted no time shoving his tongue inside your mouth.

Bucky could feel your hands against his chest, pushing him away. He could hear the muffled pleas of protest as he relentlessly assaulted your mouth. His lips left yours only to find themselves on your neck, sucking on your skin.

"Bu.. Bucky.. stop.. s-s-top." Tears cascaded down your cheeks, but you were frozen in spot, unable to wipe them away.

But Bucky ignored your appeal. He continued sucking your skin while his hands traveled your side, feeling you up. When he couldn't get enough of you, he bit the skin on your shoulder.

You yelped in pain. "Stop! Stop, get off me!"

Still, Bucky did not listen. Dissatisfied with his actions, he dragged and threw you towards the couch; he straddled over you, your hands pinned on the cushion. You squirmed beneath him, trying to escape his hold.

Bucky pulled your shirt up and found his lips back on your skin again; this time, he latched on your erect nipple and sucked as if his life depended on it. When he was done abusing both your buds, he moved to kiss your lips again, but your tear-stricken face met his eyes.

Bucky went stiff as a board, and you used that opportunity to push him, backing off as far as you can from him. Your loud sobs filled the house as you sank to a pool at your feet, hugging your knees to yourself.

You couldn't believe what your step-brother had done. Your mind couldn't begin to fathom his actions.

Bucky sat motionless, his horror-struck at his deed. He bit back the long line of profanities that ran inside his head as he stared dumbfounded at your crumpled figure.

A painful pang of guilt washed over him like a tidal wave. What had he done?

"Y/n.. I-I'm… I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He said and scrambled out of the house.

Bucky didn't come home for three days while you spent it in a daze.

Bucky kissed you; he put his tongue inside your mouth. He touched you in your private parts. He sucked on your nipple while you lay beneath him. He held you like a lover would.

But he was your brother; why would he do that?

The sound of the front door opening pulled you out from your thoughts. Your gaze met Bucky's; he had dark circles around his eyes, and you wondered briefly whose house he crashed when he didn't come home.

"Bucky…" You stood from the couch and approached him.

Bucky liked that about you. You were brave and face things head-on; you're not one to back down, just cause you were scared. But he doesn't think he could handle you right now, not after what he's done. He walked past you, intent on ignoring you.

"After what you did, I at least deserve to know the truth, don't you think?"

Your words hit home. You were right; you deserved at least that much. Sighing, he turned back and sat down on the couch.

"I know this is downright wrong, but I'm in love with you, y/n," Bucky confessed softly, and he heard your small gasp.

"But, we're… I'm your sister."

"step-sister," He corrected. "I can't help it. I love you more than a step-brother could love his step-sister. I love you as a woman y/n. I tried to stop it, but it was hard."

You deserved to know the truth no matter how disgusting, condemning, or how sinful it was.

"I am still trying." Bucky continued, and this time, he gave you a firm look. "And I need, need you to help me."

Your heart skipped a beat. "What do you want me to do, Buck?"

"Stay away from me."

You pulled back in shock. "But-"

"No buts!" He hissed. "Can't you see how hard this is for me? You think it's easy to stay away from you when I love you?" He pleaded. "After this, I want you to stay away, don't talk to me unless it's a life or death situation."

"Mom and dad will notice."

"Then don't make them notice." He got up and approached you, then reached for your hand, clasping them together. "Please, y/n, you have to."

With a heavy heart, you nodded. Bucky moved and gave you a quick peck on the forehead, and it felt like goodbye.

Weeks quickly flew by, fortunately for the both of you, your parents didn't notice a thing. You bickered like you used to during breakfast, but both of you knew that it was forced. When they weren't around, which was much since both of them worked, you barely talked to each other and were barely left alone in the house.

Bucky spent most of his time playing basketball -his new hobby to get his mind off you. He's always gone during weekends playing with his college friend Sam Wilson. You saw the guy once when Bucky invited him to dinner with your family. After that, Sam can frequently be seen in the house. Your parents were cool with it since Steve didn't come home for summer.

One afternoon, Sam was there again; you could hear their banter all the way up to your room. However, what really bothered you though was the presence of a woman -Sharon. She's Bucky and Sam's classmate in one of their class, and along with Sam, she started hanging out at your house.

You groaned, annoyed. You couldn't focus on the application essay you were supposed to write with that woman's shrill voice downstairs. You slammed your fist against your study table, intent on giving the three a piece of your mind. You stood up and marched downstairs, catching their attention.

Sharon sat between Sam and Bucky, and they were pretty occupied with a mobile game before you came.

"Can you guys keep it down? You're not the only people in the house."

"Oops, sorry, y/n." Sharon squeaked.

"We'll keep it down," Sam promised.

You just nodded before glaring at Bucky, who did not even acknowledge your presence. You grumbled something before storming back to your room, slamming the door close.

Sharon and Sam ended up having dinner with them again. With Sharon seated beside Bucky, again. Your mom told them to drop by again. And, Bucky walked Sharon home, again.

And you were getting tired of this. You wanted to help Bucky, but you can't just sit back and watch him replace you with someone else. No, you can't allow it. This has to stop.

You waited for Bucky to come home; you were in his room sitting on his bed with a determined look on your face.

As soon as Bucky stepped inside, he was shoved against the door, making it slam close. He winced at the pain on his back, but he was startled and shocked when he felt your lips connect with his in a searing kiss. His first instinct was to push you away, but his desire got the better of him. His eyes slipped close, and he kissed you back passionately.

Bucky's thoughts were in a haze as both your lips danced with each other. It didn't take long for him to invade the warmth of your mouth, fingers tangling themselves into your hair, while your hands curled around the front of his shirt, trapped between your heated bodies.

"Why," He moaned before pulling away.

Your ragged breaths filled the room; you looked at him with glistening eyes. "I don't care anymore, Bucky. I don't want to lose you. I don't want to be replaced by Sam or Sharon or anyone else." A tear escaped your eye, and it cascaded down your cheek.

Bucky leaned down and kissed it away, the salty taste lingering in his tongue.

"I want you back, Bucky."

Bucky felt a painful tug on his heart at the sight. He loves you, but he was also the one making you cry. He cannot bear the thought of hurting you. He caressed your cheek and gazed at you lovingly, longingly.

"You're making this hard for me, y/n. For the both of us."

You shook your head once more and pulled his face close to yours. "I don't care anymore, James Barnes. Love me any way you want, just don't… don't leave me again."

Bucky froze at your words. He pulled away then grasped both your shoulders. "Y/n, you don't know what you're saying."

"I do. I'm not a child anymore. I want how we used to be; if accepting your love could get things back to the way it was, I accept it.

Bucky shook his head. "No,…no y/n, nothing will ever be the same if you let me love you the way I want to."

Your face visibly fell at his words. Feeling hopeless, you asked. "Why?"

"Why?" Bucky asked back softly. "Because unlike then, I'll kiss you more like this…" He started and gave you a sensual kiss on the lips. "I'll hold your hand like this…" His hand went to yours, and he intertwined your fingers.

"We used to do that when we were kids."

Bucky just hummed in response. "And I'll pull you close to me like this…" He continued and did just as he said. He pulled you against his heated body and inhaled your scent. "And you'll always ignite that burning feeling inside me, y/n. So, unless you get used to these things, I will not let you do this."

"But we used to do some of those."

"It's going to be a lot different now."

"I don't care. I'm used to it. In fact, I miss it. Don't ever leave me again, Bucky, please. I love you so much."

Bucky's eyes widened in surprise. He could feel the rapid beating of your heart against his. He pulled you in once more for a passionate kiss.

"I love you too, y/n. You don't know how much you make me happy."

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky #james buchanan barnes #au bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic

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ladyvader23 · 4 years

Text

Darth Vader, Master Hairstylist

This was inspired by @scuddington ‘s post HERE. I absolutely love Scud’s art, and this one just instantly inspired me!

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

The first time Vader learned how important hair was to little children was the day Miss Laena took PTO in the morning for an important doctors appointment.

He figured he had this. It was just one morning. No big deal. The only difference was that this morning, he’d be the one getting the kids ready for school. That wasn’t hard. He was Darth Vader, Sith, destroyer of Jedi and Rebels alike, Commander of the Imperial Navy! He could handle school.

He scheduled his own meetings around the conflict, he’d warned the twins repeatedly that he needed them to cooperate, he’d made sure the night before that all was prepared. Bags, lunches, homework.

Too easy. Maybe he’d reconsider Miss Laena’s salary.

And the morning did begin smoothly. Until Leia came running to him with a brush in her hand.

“I gotta be pretty daddy!” She shoved the brush towards him. “Do my hair!”

Vader froze. He...knew nothing about hair. He knew his wife had been excellent at it. When had she begun to be interested in how she did her hair? He tried to think back, but he couldn’t remember a single time he’d seen her in public without perfectly styled tresses.

“You are a child. You do not need me to do your hair. Just brush it.”

That of course, offended Leia. She pouted and glared. “I’m a big girl daddy, and big girls have pretty hair!”

She literally forced the brush into his hand.

Well. He’d mastered the Force. How hard could hair be?

Famous last words.

First, he was apparently not gentle enough. He tried to comb the tangles that she’d acquired overnight, and each time he did she began screaming “OW!” and crying. Horrified, he decided to instead hide the tangles and figure them out later. He pulled her hair into what resembled a ponytail and stepped back. “There. Now you will be late for school. Let us leave.”

The hair wasn’t...exactly like it should be. It was crooked, and he wasn’t sure it was tight enough to stay in, but he didn’t want to hurt her further. And he was pretty sure she didn’t want him to try again, because she didn’t argue.

He forgot about the incident shortly after the kids were dropped off. Miss Laena came back shortly before the end of school. He was in their home’s personal conference room, doing assignments from home, when he heard the front door open and the telltale sound of children running through the home.

Miss Laena will take care of it. He thought, focusing back on his work…

Until he realized Leia was crying.

He hated it when she cried. Luke, he could deal with. But Leia? Absolutely not.

Shoving the datapad aside, he went to investigate.

“I’m ugly!” She was wailing when he entered the kitchen. Mis Laena was trying to comb Leia’s hair and having a hard time with it. “I’m ugly!!!”

“Who told you a ridiculous lie like that?!” Vader thundered. Leia was the image of his beloved wife. Both of them were more beautiful than all the stars of the galaxy.

But to his surprise, Leia wailed harder. “Everyone! My hair was ugly!!!”

“Your hair does not reflect how beautiful you are. Hair changes daily.”

Miss Laena winced. “Lord Vader...many children want to feel pretty when they go see their friends at school.”

“Leia is beautiful already. I do not see what the problem is.”

“...She is beautiful, but she may not feel that way when she doesn’t like her hair...and other kids might say something if it looks...different.”

“She is five.”

“Even five year olds want to feel pretty.”

Vader thought it was silly. Leia could have no hair and he’d find her just as perfect as she was with it. But judging on Leia’s reaction, she very much cared about how her hair looked.

It was something her mother should have done. Had she lived, he had no doubt Leia would never have a bad day...or even Luke for that matter (sometimes that boy needed to run a comb through his hair, if Vader was being honest with himself).

But Padme...was not there. And it was his fault for that.

So it was up to him to fix it.

First, he ordered practice manikin heads, the kind hairdressers used to practice. Then, he found online tutorials on the holonet. He watched them carefully, paying close attention to the stylists finger and brush movements. It was not unlike studying lightsaber technique. Both had a certain art to it.

He just needed to master it.

The first many attempts didn’t work as planned. Part of it was due to his cybernetics. They were...not made for the delicacy it took to style hair. The first few manikin heads ended up either with hair ripped out, or he’d grow so frustrated when he couldn’t get a braid right, that he’d throw the manakin off the balcony, where it fell into the lower levels of Coruscant below.

But he was determined. He would not fail in this task. He would not be so reliant on Miss Laena that he would ruin his daughter's day again like that.

He would be the master hairstylist.

It took months (and countless manikin heads) to get things to where he felt he could confidently and safely try working on Leia’s hair.

One morning, before school, he interrupted Miss Laena as she was about to help Leia get ready for school. “I have no need of your services when it comes to Leia.” He informed her confidently. “I will handle it from here.”

He did not miss the concern that flashed through the other woman, but she wisely did not say anything. “As you wish, My Lord.”

He entered Leia’s room. She was already dressed, though her hair, thankfully, was still a mess. “Where’s Miss Laena?” She asked, frowning when he was the only one there.

“I am here to fix your hair problem.” He announced confidently, spotting the brush and summoning it to his hand.

Leia did not hide her nervousness. “No, that’s okay daddy, I...I can have ugly hair today.”

“No. You will sit down and allow me to help you.”

“No--”

“If you do not let me help you, I will ground you from your dolls.” It was an unfair threat and he knew it...but he was a Sith. He’d spent an unsithly amount of time mastering the ways of the hairdresser. He was not about to let Leia stop him now.

Leia pouted, but sat down. “Be nice to my hair, daddy.” She warned as he approached, and he felt her genuine fear.

Carefully, he placed a hand on top of her head and smoothed her hair down in what he hoped was a soothing gesture...and began.

He first worked out the tangles. Carefully, in a way he knew wouldn’t hurt her. Once all the tangles were gone, he began to braid.

The trick, he found, was not to completely rely on his metal fingers. Doing so would result in failure. The trick was to use the Force for anything that was too delicate and precarious for his clumsy hands. With a mixture of the Force and his own now well-practiced hands, he managed to braid her hair into a crown.

He stepped back, satisfied. “You look like a princess.” He told her, and he meant it. It was hair that would make any royal princess jealous. He was fairly certain that Padme would have been quite proud of him had she seen it.

Leia looked in the mirror...and smiled. “Wow, daddy! You got good!”

“For you, my princess...though don’t tell anyone I did it.”

Having redeemed himself, he could have stopped there. He’d mastered enough to impress any five year old.

But he didn’t stop there.

Leia soon decided that she’d rather have him do her hair than Miss Laena (something he was secretly pleased about, though he’d never admit it). As she grew, so too did her tastes in hair. Occasionally, she’d be interested in a style he didn’t know how to do. But if she showed him what she wanted, he’d spend what little off time he had trying to figure it out. Once he’d mastered it, he’d try it out on her. Usually he was successful.

Soon, he began to savor the moments when it was just him and her. She’d sit on the chair, swinging her legs happily while he worked on her hair. Sometimes it felt like they didn’t share as many interests, but when he did her hair, it seemed like it was their own “thing.” It was unsithly, and his Master would absolutely have a heart attack if he ever found out, but he didn’t care.

Soon though, as Leia grew into a teenager, she began to need him less and less. But instead, their time together was replaced by him teaching her how to do her own hair. He’d always dreamed of teaching his children the ways of the Force, but with Sidious suspicious of that ever happening, he knew this would probably be the closest thing he could get for Leia.

For now.

One day, as Leia finished braiding her hair so that it looked like a blooming flower for a Imperial youth party, she paused. “You know. I’ve never told anyone you learned how to do hair.” She said.

“That is wise.” He tried not to think of what the media would say if they ever found out Darth Vader knew almost as much about hair as any professional hairstylist.

“Why? I mean. You’re...you.”

He looked at her for a long moment. She’d grown to be so beautiful, exactly like her mother. And he decided to be honest.

“Because your mother was not here to do it for you.” He replied. “I did not want you to miss out on that experience.”

Leia turned, taking him in for a moment. Then, with a smile, she reached out and gave him a rare hug.

He...allowed it. This time.

“Thanks dad.” She said. “You’re the best. I don’t care what anyone else says.”

He didn’t understand how him being good at hair made him the best…

But he’d accept it.

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

I accept PROMPTS for this or any SW AU!

#Darth Vader #dad vader series #Dad vader #leia organa #little leia #my writing #sometimes he makes a good dad decision #fanfic #star wars fanfic #star wars

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the-lady-writes-what · 4 years

Text

Slow Burn

Endeavor x Fem!Reader

You're the secretary of the newly-divorced Number One Hero, Endeavor. While it's true you don't know everything about him yet, you can't help but feel drawn him, even if it's just on a physical level. You're can hardly help yourself from imagining what all those would do to you in the privacy of your naughty dreams. However, when Endeavor is hit by an unknown quirk, you're tasked to help see him through it.

Content: quirk mishap, oral (giving and receiving), hair pulling, breeding kink, office sex, semi-public sex, DILF, size kink, rough window sex, controversial character, possible implied voyeurism

Original found here on my AO3

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It was no lie that you found the pro-hero attractive. He was built like a train that you wanted nothing more than you plow you over. Preferably over his desk or wherever he pleased. Rumors spread like wildfire after his sudden divorce; of course, it didn't come as much of a surprise, considering few people ever saw his first wife. Your heart was racing as you rode the elevator up. At your office, you should have just shot your hand up and shouted, 'I volunteer as tribute,' you might as well have. You'd kill for an opportunity to work for that behemoth of a man.

You worked for Endeavor for a few months. Being a busy man, Endeavor didn't notice you at first. You were just some faceless secretary who complied and filed away reports for him when he was out fighting crime. It took him a couple of weeks before discovering just how efficient you were, more often than not going above and beyond what he expected of a secretary. You were just so eager to please him in any way possible. The piping hot coffee for yourself and him rode up with you to the very top floor. You shifted from one foot to the other in your impatience.

The elevator finally dinged when you reached your destination. You stepped off. You were grateful that your knees no longer wobbled when you walked to your new office by this point. Just beyond a set of double doors was Endeavor. You rarely ventured inside as you accomplished most of your work at your own desk. Most of the time, Endeavor wasn't even there when you came in to drop something off. As you approached his doors and prepared to knock, they flew open. The coffee you carried was lukewarm by the time you reached to the top, so the burn was merely a mild sting. A light brown spread across your chest, dousing your white shirt through to your bra. You yelped at the first contact. Your purse fell at your feet as did the remaining coffee cup with its drink carrier. Thankfully, the second cup missed you.

"L/N, are you okay?"

You winced as you grabbed some tissues off your desk. You tried to pat down the stain, but it wouldn't make it any better even if you used the whole box.

"It's not that bad, really. Dry-cleaners gonna cost me, though."

"The shirt can be replaced. I asked if you were okay." Endeavor turned to the official-looking man in the crisp suit. "We'll talk later."

Your cheeks turned red. You weren't sure if it was the mild heat from the coffee or that your shirt was ultimately see-through at this point. Your tissues did more harm than good as they fell apart and left fluffy tufts over the wet stain. Endeavor escorted the man to the elevator while you continued your fruitless effort. You swore under your breath when you were certain Endeavor couldn't hear such unprofessional talk. Supposedly, you could call your sister or a friend to bring you something else to wear, but everybody would likely be tied up at work themselves. It wouldn't do to waltz around the prestigious Number One Hero's agency wearing a giant coffee stain on your blouse where anybody who looked hard could take a peek at the lace underneath. Lost for words, you wondered if Endeavor would be so kind as to let you go home and change before you embarrassed him further.

"L/N," came Endeavor's voice next to you.

You jumped a little. You had to crane your neck each time you looked at the man in the face. It was difficult to believe that a man his size could sneak on anyone, least of all you. Endeavor held out one of his black shirts still on a hanger and a belt.

"It's not much, but it wouldn't look good for you to walk around like that."

You imagined his eyes flickering to your chest. Emphasizing the fact that you were now a mess to behold or glimpse at your bra, you weren't sure. In either case, it was just your imagination. You glanced at the garment he held out and recognized it by how many times you took it to the dry-cleaners.

"Sir, this is yours. I couldn't possibly…It really isn't that big of a deal."

Oh, but it was. Judging by the stern look in his eyes that made your spine tingle. He wasn't the sort of man who'd take no for an answer. You admitted he was a bully. While it wasn't his best trait nor one that you particularly liked, it did something. You were ashamed and hated yourself for it. However, that didn't stop the fact that when Endeavor played this role, it sent a shiver down your back and caused heat to pool in your lower belly. It was disgusting, but you loved it. That would explain your terrible taste in men.

"I will not have you working in dirty clothes. I take it you have no spares or anyone who could bring it to you?"

Your mouth parted as your tongue flicked out, licking your dry lips. You glanced at the shirt then back at your boss. His jaw was set, looking down at you. You'd either take the offer or get sent home, wasting precious time for both of you. Your hand reached out to make the shirt and belt.

"I'll…I'll take excellent care of it, sir." You bowed politely from the waist. "I'll wash it myself when I get home."

Endeavor opened his mouth as if to say something, but then quickly shut it. He nodded instead and walked back into his office. You walked to the bathroom to change when you heard his door slam shut. You flinched at the sound and wondered what could have made him upset. The only thing you could think of was that you had done something wrong when you tried to bring him coffee. You must have embarrassed him in front of somebody from the Hero and Safety Commission. There wasn't anything you could do about the coffee staining your bra, and you weren't going to go without it. A fresh pink mark covered your chest, but nothing looked severe. If it blistered by the next morning, you would see a doctor. You put on the black shirt that Endeavor offered only to marvel at your reflection in the large mirror. The shirt engulfed you. As it draped on your shoulders, you imagined a black hole swallowing you. No wonder he gave you a belt too. Not that the belt did much to secure the garment. Endeavor's shirt reached to your knees and sagged on your shoulders. All the good the belt served to do was keep you from looking frumpy. There was only a slight definition to your waist as the belt could only do so much for the swathes of fabric wrapping around you.

You found a plastic bag to carry your ruined shirt in and started work for the day. Endeavor received no more guests for that day. Thank god. You couldn't bear for anyone else to see you like this. Endeavor left the office around noon for his patrol but didn't glance at you on his way out. Odd for him, Endeavor usually at least made some kind of contact or said his good-bye before heading out. He neither looked at your nor said anything in passing. Your brows furrowed, however, you weren't about to ask him what happened. You watched his back retreat from you. His shoulders were tense, more so than you've usually seen them. You tried to keep your mind on work rather than let it fester on what you could have done to make him so angry. For the remainder of the day, you sat at your desk and ordered rather than go anywhere for lunch. Even if you ventured to make a trip to your apartment for a new shirt, Endeavor wouldn't show up again until long after his patrol shift was over.

Towards evening, you were beginning to wonder if you were going to have to call the Commission office or alert his next of kin when the man came stomping from the elevator. You rose immediately from your desk, expecting to find Endeavor beaten bloody and half-dead. Instead, you see him tenser than when he left. There were small scratches on his face, but nothing to worry about.

"Endeavor, sir…"

You winced when the office door slammed home again. At this point, you were getting worried. Endeavor wasn't the most affectionate man; however, he was at least trying to be kinder from what you've heard. You'd grown used to him saying hello and goodnight instead of the wall of intense silence. You didn't bother letting Endeavor know that you were leaving when it was time to clock out. You didn't think that putting in overtime would be wise while his mood festered. It would be better, you figured if you left as soon as possible.

At home, you reluctantly took off the shirt you borrowed. It didn't stop you from breathing in the collar and smelling Endeavor. You spent the night treating the coffee stain, though you suspected it might be a lost cause, and washing Endeavor's shirt with the highest care. You couldn't afford the bill even if you managed to find a dry cleaner open late. There wasn't much to do because you already took care not to spill anything or wrinkle it too badly. You replaced the shirt on one of your hangers, though it was pink and barely held up the enormous garment.

Work resumed the next morning with less excitement. You entered Endeavor's office with him on the phone. You tiptoed to place the shirt and belt on his couch and place the coffee cup on his desk. You moved out of the room with minimal sound and retreated to your office once more. Endeavor left around noon for patrol. Again, he didn't so much as glance at you before leaving. What should have been a normal—if not slightly tense—day of work when the elevator dinged. You rose to your feet, expecting Endeavor, but not this time. You recognized his face, although his name escaped you. You knew for sure, however, that he worked for the Hero and Safety Commission.

"You're Y/N L/N, right?"

"Yes?" You suddenly realized that your heart was beating a mile a minute. You took a long look at the man.

He was sweating up a storm under his suit, you saw the pit stains growing. His eyes were wide and full of emotion you couldn't pin down. The man's brows furrowed into a V-shape.

"You can identify quirks, right?"

You nodded. "Yes."

"Then I need you to come with me. Now. Endeavor's been hit by something, and we don't know what it is."

You felt your warm blood drain from your face. Dazed, you followed the man. Without question, you climbed into his car and with him sped towards the crime scene. Policemen and heroes blockaded a single street where there was already a tent set up. The bright red plus sign stamped on the front identified it as a medical tent. You swallowed hard. You didn't wait for the man to open your door. Before anyone directed you, you ran in your short kitten heels towards the tent. Medics tried to bar the way, but you pushed past them.

The sight made your stomach clench. Endeavor's hero costume had been cut or torn from his torso. Long beads of sweat burst from every pore. None of his flames adorned his face to hide the apparent pain he suffered through. Endeavor's skin appeared ash gray in the medical tent's portable lamps. He was stretched out on a gurney that left his boots dangling off the edge.

"Endeavor, sir. It's me, L/N. The Commission sent me here."

"Go away," Endeavor growled.

You never heard him like that before. You repressed the shiver threatening to make you quake at the sound. You had more important things to do than letting yourself get turned on when the man was clearly in pain. You stepped forward and was surprised that Endeavor still heard your soft footfalls.

"I said, go away."

"Sir, I'm not leaving you, not like this. The Commission sent me because I'm the only one who can identify what quirk hit you. You can either suffer or let me help you and ease the pain."

"Then I choose to suffer," he said.

You inhaled sharply and let go. Quickening your steps, you pressed forward. Endeavor grabbed your wrist but failed to realize just how determined you were. His strength had diminished because of the quirk and couldn't stop you from taking his head between your hands. You held him steady. However, the stupid man refused to open his eyes. Your quirk was useless unless you got a look into a person's eyes.

"Sir, I need you to open your eyes if just for a moment. My quirk won't work unless I can see you."

Endeavor shook his head. "Leave. I'll be fine."

"Sir, I'm not going to leave you like this. I need you to open your eyes."

"Y/N, go. It'll be better that way."

Your brows knitted close together. You had no idea that Endeavor even knew your first name. He never called you anything except by your last. You were more startled by the It'll be better that way. You didn't have the time or patience to ask.

"Dammit, sir! If you don't open your eyes and let me see, I'll just make you. We can do this the easy way or the hard way, and you don't want me to do this the hard way." You couldn't help a snarl at the end. You were more concerned about Endeavor's life than getting a reprimand for practically growling at your boss. You were frustrated by his stubbornness and running out of choices.

Maybe Endeavor took your word for it. Or perhaps he wanted you to stop squawking in his ear. No matter which, Endeavor slowly peeled his eyes open, allowing your quirk to do the rest. The moment you found out the truth, you gasped and took a couple steps backward. Endeavor shut his eyes tight, turned his face away from you, and clenched his jaws. You ran out of the medic tent with your hand clasped over your mouth to cover the burst of red coloring to your cheeks.

"Well, what is it? What quirk hit him?"

You moved your hand with great reluctance. You couldn't be blushing harder. "It's a, uh," you stammered, trying to get the words out. "It's a lust-based quirk. His hormones are through the roof, and his brain chemical's haywire. He's already a hot-blooded person, so that's making his fever worse. If something isn't done, he could…he could overheat and die."

"Then, we should send him home?"

Shaking your head, "No, his family shouldn't see him like this. Besides, nobody there who could help him through this."

"Hospital?" The Commission officer suggested.

"I don't think they'd help him much. Likely they'll put him on sedatives and fight to keep the fever down. He would be out of commission for weeks. Just…Just," you bit your lip. "Just help me get him to the agency. I'll…figure something out."

The officer rubbed his chin in thought while nodding in agreement. It was either that or expose the Number One weakened by a silly quirk such as this. He ordered the medics to prepare to transport Endeavor back to his own agency. They gave him puzzled looks but did as they were told with little argument after that. The Commission officer glanced at you.

"I take it you're capable of taking care of the rest?"

What were you supposed to say? You've fantasized before, but when the opportunity came knocking, you were shaking in your proverbial boots. You didn't want Endeavor to be in pain. This wasn't how you pictured it in your mind.

"Leave it to me. Unless you want to have a go at it?" You said. The snark was supposed to break the tension, but your chuckled died in your throat as the oversized ambulance loaded Endeavor up in the back.

He grunted and growled with every movement. Endeavor didn't struggle much to your relief. You sprinted towards the ambulance and explained that you were Endeavor's secretary. The EMS was less than thrilled to have you onboard in the already cramped back, but you didn't give them much choice. They helped you guide Endeavor back to his office and vanished as soon as you two passed through the doors. Some of Endeavor's strength returned to him long enough to help him across the floor and sit in his giant leather chair.

"You can leave now, L/N. You've done your job," he grunted.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I won't be leaving you as you are now. You're sick, and you won't get better without my help. I'm not going anywhere."

Endeavor peered at you above his hand, covering his face. His hard eyes pinned you to the floor. Unable to move or look away, you saw and felt his eyes wander from head to toe.

"You're shaking." He pointed out the obvious.

"You're dying, sir. Why would I not be?"

"Don't be overdramatic. It'll pass."

"Not well enough. You need me," you said.

You reached your hand outwards to touch his arm. Endeavor caught it as easily a prepared cat caught a mouse. His grasp was harsh, and his body heat could have melted the watch you wore.

"I know how your quirk works, L/N. I know that you saw what hit me. You're already aware that the quirk doesn't create feelings, it only enhances them. If you were a good girl, you would go through those doors and take the rest of the day off."

You shook your head. "I can't do that, sir."

"Then you're fired. I don't like having insubordinate secretaries running about the place."

The words stung almost as much as the tears. You pivoted on your heel and made sure that he heard every clack of your shoes as you stormed away. You promised the Commission officer that you would fix the problem. More than that, Endeavor handed you a better opportunity.

You reached the door. Your heart clenched as you heard Endeavor panting for breath. You reached for the knob and clicked the lock in the place. You stood at the door before lifting one leg to unstrap your shoes.

"L/N, what are you doing? I fired you. Leave."

"Or what, sir?" You took off your shoes and dropped them unceremoniously on the floor. You turned again. "Even if you had the strength, you'd have only two options. You can throw me out the door and hurt me while also alerting someone, or you can throw me out the window and kill me. I know what the quirk did to you, and I'm not afraid."

You popped a button then another and another, slowly taking a button every other step. By the time you reached the fourth one on your blouse, Endeavor had fixed his eyes on you. He watched you cross over the large office of his until you met him again. When you stood in front of him this time, you had your blouse entirely unbuttoned and started peeling it off. You shifted the blouse off your arms and let it fall to your feet.

"I'm not a good man," said Endeavor.

You thought his eyes would be staring at your bra-clad chest. You were pleasantly surprised that his gaze—steely as it was—never left your face. His hands clenched around the arms of his chair, waiting for your permission to move. Without his costume, the veins bulged against his skin because of the strain. Your legs trembled as you moved one step forward. You placed your knee between his. You knew that his chair could hold your weight too on top of his. You were so much smaller and lighter than he. You used the leverage to wrap your arms behind his neck.

"I suppose I'm not a good girl either. What would you do?"

You shouldn't have asked such a silly question and expect a verbal answer. You really should have known better. Endeavor didn't have far to reach up to push Endeavor's lips against yours and ravage your mouth. Endeavor's hands unclenched, grabbed your waist, and pulled you flush against his hard chest. The leather chair creaked under your combined weight. Endeavor shifted you around before getting to his feet. You weighed no more than a bag of feathers to him as he picked you off your feet and wrapped your legs around him. Not once did his mouth leave yours even while he carried you over to the nearest wall. Your back bounced against warm glass, making it wobble.

It's a good thing we're so high up, you thought.

Your arms were barely long enough to reach behind him and run your fingers through Endeavor's hair. His hand, though, was too big to unclip your bra. You unlatched your hands from him to reach behind you and fix the problem yourself. The garment was discarded as soon as possible. Where it went, you did not know or much less cared. Endeavor pulled away from you to get a good look as you pressed your back against the glass. The bright orange rays of the sun cast a warm glow over your skin. Endeavor bent down to suckle one of your pert nipples and draw it into his mouth.

Your legs weren't nearly long enough to support yourself. While Endeavor would slightly touch as well as taste those breasts he'd imagined since the coffee incident, Endeavor realized how tiny you were. He could feel you losing your grip and sliding from his stomach to hanging low on his hips. While adorable, it wasn't conducive to what Endeavor's fevered brain wanted. He set you on your feet again. Endeavor watched your face twist into a puzzled look before he got on his knees and resumed laving his mouth over your chest.

It worked better for you this way, anyhow. You could comfortably rest your arms on his shoulders and curl your fingers in his hair while he worked you. His large hand on your other breast made you feel tiny. Endeavor was a big man; it's what you liked about him, but you never thought how it would feel to put those nasty daydreams of yours into practice. His mouth felt hot around your aching chest. The scar on his face occasionally brushed against your chest, adding rough friction to your already sensitive skin. Endeavor grew bored of suckling on your tits, eventually. He dragged his lips southward, pressing hotter than magma kisses to your skin and nipping here and there. His large thumb hooked into the waistband of your pencil skirt before wrenching down the zipper and forcing the whole thing to your ankles.

Endeavor pushed your legs apart than would be considered natural or comfortable. His hands were almost large enough to around the girth of your thighs. They trailed up your legs until they reached your cunt. You were dripping and felt it seeping through your thin panties. Endeavor buried his head against your thigh to lap up the nearly pearlescent beads weeping down. His teeth gently nibbled your inner thigh as if debating whether or not to leave his mark. Endeavor settled for neither and moved one hand to the crotch seam of your underwear. He hooked his thumb inside, making you gasp at the intrusion.

"No, you're not a good girl at all." Endeavor moved the offending silk aside. "I'd say you're a naughty girl indeed."

You very nearly screamed at the top of your lungs when Endeavor pressed his tongue against your clit. He gave you more experimental flicks before looking up at you. The burn of his gaze caused you to look down. Your cheeks burned before now. They were aflame as you drank in the sight of Endeavor—Number One Hero—kneeling between your legs and poised to eat you at out. Your tongue cleaved to the roof of your mouth.

"Watch me. Watch me make you cum using only my tongue, little girl. Scream and pull my hair as much as you want. You're not leaving this spot until I feel you cum on my tongue."

Helplessly, you nodded.

Endeavor stretched his tongue out to you again. His eyes focused on yours as he brought his lips to your cunt again. He swirled his tongue around your clit, stirring up the juices already threatening to burst the dam. Your nails dug into his shoulders while you called out his name over and over. His wet muscle stretched you wide for him as if preparing you for something much bigger. Endeavor suckled your clit meanwhile never taking his eyes off you. He had the easy job; yours was harder than it sounded. Your brain turned into pudding, watching him work your cunt into a sopping mess. You couldn't dig your nails into his shoulders harder to release the coil winding inside your lower belly. In a fit of ecstasy, you threw your head back to smack the glass window. Eyes closed, they didn't snap open until Endeavor pinched your thigh to remind you not to look away from him.

It took him only a few more minutes before Endeavor fulfilled his promise. The coil sprung loose with you staring down at him and eyes watering from the strain of keeping them open. Cum dribbled down Endeavor's chin as you panted through your orgasm, and your lungs begged for air. Endeavor pulled away slowly and lapped at your dripping folds before disengaging. Both his thumbs hooked under your panties to pull them down to the floor on top of your skirt. He left you panting and wobbling on your legs as he went to his leather-bound throne. Endeavor spread his knees wide and fumbled with the waistband of his costume. His eyes never left yours as he fisted his hard cock out for you to drool over all the while, giving you this expectant look. You hesitated only for a short second before getting on your hands and knees, crawling towards him, and kneel between Endeavor's legs.

You didn't need any convincing before choking on him. Bobbing your head up and down his shaft, you wrapped your hand around his cock, where you couldn't reach him. You hollowed out your cheeks to suck him. A beefy hand came behind your head to knot fingers into your hair. Endeavor gave gentle pulls as your tongue showed him as much love and attention as he did to your nipples. You hummed with delight when you were—at last—able to take him into your mouth. A thing you dreamed about during your lonely nights.

Endeavor allowed you to keep your own pace. Not wanting to cum inside your mouth or too soon, he sat back to enjoy the feeling of your mouth wrapped around him. You laved your tongue on the underside of his cock and teased the veiny bulges. You kissed and licked the cockhead after almost pulling all the way out. You shoved your mouth back around him until you gagged—the large room filled with the sound of your obscene sucking. Drool pooled over your chin. You looked up to see Endeavor casually reclining in his chair. One hand fisted in your hair while he propped his cheek against the other to watch you worship his cock. He wore nothing but a smirk on his face, a look reserved for no one but you.

You worked harder to bring him to cum, but your efforts would have needed more time. Time Endeavor didn't want to waste. His grip was hard but not damaging on your hair when he yanked you off his cock. He was careful not to pull out any of your precious hair. Endeavor pulled you into his lap. It was somewhat awkward with his cock standing at attention against your stomach. The most tender moment came when Endeavor tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear before kissing you. There was no loss of passion, but his eagerness waned somewhat. This kiss didn't feel like he was trying to devour you but make love to you. Sweetly. Tenderly. Lovingly. Almost like he had something to make up for in a past life, and maybe he did.

"En-Endeavor, sir…" You shuddered beneath his touch.

"I want you to call me Enji."

"Enji." You tried his name out loud and bit your lip. Nobody ever heard you call out his name except your pillow at night while you had a toy trapped between your legs.

"I'm still under the quirk's power. We can stop here, and I'll take care of the rest," he said.

You shook your head. "No. I want you, and I'm not leaving until I know you're better."

"You might be regretting that decision later, little girl," Endeavor growled.

You nipped his ear before he could dodge your attack. Leaning close, you saw how your breath ghosting across his skin made goosebumps.

"I don't think I care," you whispered into his ear.

You felt yourself getting scooped up again and brought to the window. Wordlessly, End—Enji planted you on your feet. He kicked your feet apart, braced your palms down on the window, and shoved you down so that it looked like you were bowing from the waist. An arm built like a temple column snaked around your torso just below your breasts while the other grabbed your hip. Sliding into your cunt without guiding, it came naturally to Enji. So much so he ground his teeth together to keep from going balls deep on the first try. You sighed with each inch he pushed into you until he was all the way in.

"How do you feel now?" Asked Enji.

"Full! I feel so full!" You gasped.

Enji moved his arm to grasp both hands and make sure they held still. "Keep your hands on the glass and look up. I want to see your reflection in the window when I fuck you."

You did as you were told though you struggled to keep your head up. It would be much easier if you could bow your head as the waves of pleasure consumed you. But then you'd be disappointing your boss, who currently pushing and pulling at you. Your walls stretched wide for his cock as it kissed your cervix. His powerful grunts overshadowed your moaning.

"You're so small. I have to remember…to be more gentle." He said in between pounding your insides.

"Don't," you whined, shaking your head. "Don't be gentle. I want all of you."

Endeavor didn't respond in words; his actions would speak for him. He grabbed your other hip and brought you flush against him to leave no space between your bodies. Endeavor's rough hands left behind bruises that wouldn't fade for a week if you were lucky. Your hips tried to keep up with his harsh, punishing tempo. You're just too fragile against a man built like a titan like the Number One Hero. You could never hope to keep up with him. You arched your back as wave after wave crashed into you. You were swallowed up by the pleasure of his cock sinking deep without remorse. The ridges of his cock rubbed all the right parts of you.

"You don't mind finish inside, do you?"

"N-No!" It would be a dream come true.

"Want to be my broodmare? My little cum slut?"

"Yes!"

"Then take it. Don't you dare waste a fucking drop."

Endeavor snapped his hips into yours with more vigor, if that could be possible. His movements made the glass of the window shudder with his thrusts. You weren't even able to moan anymore, just letting your eyes roll into the back of your skull and your breath fog up the window. Wet flesh collided against each other in a debaucherous rhythm. Endeavor looked at you reflected in the window as pleasure washed over your face. You were red from your cheeks to the tips of your ears and opened your mouth in a large O-shape. The way your breasts bounced and swayed to the tempo of his thrusting only made him want you more. He didn't notice like you did a sheath of red wings glide near one of the many skyscrapers. He was far too focused on fucking you. Endeavor's hips moved of their own accord, snapping harder into you than ever before. He thrust back and forth like it was his one job in the world. His tempered, even strokes, became mad dashes towards a finish line only he could see. Endeavor gave three more pushes before landing the final one. On the final thrust, he pushed his cock so deep into you, you felt him bruise your cervix. With this, your dam burst open again. You screamed as you came and clenched your fists against the window. Endeavor finished inside of your walls like he promised. Rope after rope nestled deep inside and made your womb its home.

It felt like centuries before he pulled out. Endeavor took his time to make sure his cum settled in nicely. Try as you might, you couldn't keep it all in. Some pearlescent beads rolled down your inner thighs. Endeavor washed you up and settled you on the couch. You'd rest and drink some water, both of you, before getting right back to it. The fever hadn't gone out; Endeavor's skin still felt hot to the touch more than usual.

"Do…Do you think anyone saw us?"

Once your head came out of the clouds, your thoughts became much clearer. You couldn't yet shake off the image of red wings and hoped for the best.

"How could they? We're on the top floor."

Still, it was some reassurance.

---080---

the-lady-writes-what

#my hero academia #my hero academia fanfiction #mha fanfiction #mha smut #boku no hero academia #bnha fanfiction #bnha smut #reader fic #enji todoroki #enji x reader #endeavor #endeavor x reader #yes I write for Enji Todoroki #smut #18+ only #Minors begone

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pagingevilspawn · 3 years

Note

Can u write a one shot where jolex's toddler gets bitten by a poisonous spider and they react quickly to help her and has alex calming jo down as she starts freaking out

WARNING: THIS IS SO BAD! Okay, you asked for spiders. That meant doing research. So I looked up poisonous spiders and I saw pictures of spiders. So dear anon, you get a sting instead, because spiders are terrifying to look at and I couldn't glance at it without feeling like they were crawling all over me ;) enjoy! this is the shortest thing i’ve ever written, yikes.

(another installment of the “payton loves evan peters too much series”)

float like a butterfly, sting like a bee

Jo Karev rested in the chair that sat on the back porch of her house, overlooking the backyard where she watched her three year old son run around with the family dog Muffin. The now full grown Golden Retriever chased after the slobbery green tennis ball the little boy had thrown into the bushes with a great deal of clumsiness, nearly tripping over his own four paws on the way. Jo lets a small laugh escape her lips, picking her glass of lemonade up from the table beside her and taking a leisurely sip, savoring the cool taste it still held since the ice cubes had yet to melt completely.

It was an unusually warm day in Seattle, temperatures reaching eighty-eight degrees despite the fact that it was only spring break, not even summer yet. The sky was clear of any clouds and the light blue proved to be comforting while she sat outside. School had been out for a few days now, so she had heard the neighborhood kids playing around in their yards, a large difference from the usually close to silent street. Only her and one other family on the block had a child that wasn’t in school yet, so the outside noise levels had steadily increased since the rest of the kids joined in on the early morning activities. More than once she had heard a couple of pre-teens race down the streets on their skateboards. Not that she minded, she loved seeing all the kids enjoy themselves, and she loved it even more for her son. Growing up she never had a life like this. It was refreshing to know that her baby boy wouldn’t grow up the same ways she and Alex had.

A large grin paints her lips as she watches her son try to hug Muffin, since he had quickly gotten bored with playing fetch. Not to mention, the little boy always hated how wet the ball got after it had been in the dog’s mouth. Jo couldn’t blame him, she felt the same way. Alex teased them both relentlessly for it, frequently making sure to toss the slobbery ball in their direction, just so that they would need to be the ones to tear it out of the golden’s mouth.

A small kiss on the top of her head tears her gaze away from the scene in front of her, looking up to meet her husband’s eyes. He, like her, was still dressed in pajamas, despite it already almost being eleven am. They both had gotten the day off and were relishing in the free time they got to spend by themselves and with their son.

“Kyle, careful.” Jo chastises the boy as the little Karev almost falls face first into a patch of flowers. She sees Alex sit beside her on another chair out of the corner of her eye, his brown hair messy and out of place falling into his eyes, a cup of coffee clutched in his right hand. He had gotten up the same time she did that day, eight thirty on the dot, also known as the time their son came bouncing into their room, jumping up and down on them until they finally gave in and didn't try to go back to sleep. Alex had a long night, not getting home until close to three am, only to wake up a few hours later with a bunch of paperwork he needed to do. She had a feeling he had fallen asleep halfway through, since he looked like he had just gotten out of bed.

“Morning” he greets her, taking a sip of his drink, watching her from the side as he does so. His wife was beautiful every single time he looked at her, but something about seeing her make-up free, hair pulled up into a messy bun, and oversized clothes was when he always thought she looked her best. Then, he could see the light freckles she had sprinkled on her nose, something he had found annoyingly cute the first time he first saw them (he teased her about them way too often for her own liking).

Jo hums in response, reaching for his hand and quickly entangling their fingers. A quiet peace settled around them, the only sounds in the air were Kyle’s laughter and faint voices of kids down the street. She closes her eyes and leans back into her seat, feeling the warm sun hit her face, causing a small smile to appear from the heat. Moments like these were rare, no matter how much they both tried to make them happen. They were both constantly getting called into cases, Jo even more so since she had switched to OB and now not only delivered babies, but preformed fetal surgery on them as well. Spending time with their son together was tough, since they worked late nights and had complete opposite schedules some days, so they grasped onto days like these and held them close.

Ask either one of them, the scene in front of them was almost comical. If someone were to tell Alex Karev ten years ago that he would be married to the love of his life and have a three year old son he would’ve thought they were crazy. The same goes for Jo. When she was just an intern she was fearful for her life, her identity, knowing that at any second Paul could find her. The wide-eyed twenty-six year old would’ve never expected she would’ve gotten to such a happy place in her life.

It was essentially a perfect day. The sun was out and Kyle was enjoying himself with Muffin, both Jo and Alex had time to relax and not stress about upcoming surgeries or patients back at the hospital. But of course, their perfect bubble popped when they heard a wail come from the corner of the yard, where their son was clutching his upper arm, face red and puffy as tears streamed down it.

The two sprang into action immediately not only their parent side, but the doctor side coming out in a split second, jumping out of their chairs and dashing across the lawn, a hundred of different scenarios running through their heads by the second.

Did he break his arm?

Trip and fall?

Get a deep scratch from a bush?

Hit his head?

Twist his ankle?

Run into something?

Jo gets to him first, pulling the little shaggy brown haired boy into her arms and wiping away his tears, his pink lips trembling as he tries to put on a brave face. He was always a show off around his mom, ever since he was born, constantly trying to earn her praise and make her laugh until she had tears coming out of her eyes. (It surprisingly wasn’t that hard of a task, Kyle was quite the comedian, as it turns out.)

“What happened baby?” Jo coos, sad hazel eyes looking to Alex, who was trying to peel the boy’s tiny hand away from his arm.

“A w-wasp.” Kyle buries his head into the crook of Jo’s neck, a few stray tears making its way down his face and onto the collar of her ratty old t-shirt that was actually her husband’s. She sees Alex let out an audible sigh of relief alongside a small chuckle, but Jo just sends him a glare. Harsh? Yes. But her baby boy was hurting, which was no laughing matter in her book. She didn’t care if Kyle had a papercut or had broken his leg, she would react the same way.

Alex uses the end of his shirt to remove the stinger from Kyle’s arm, making sure to pick it up and toss it to where the three year old wouldn’t be able to step in it. “I’ll go get some ice.” he murmurs, ruffling the little brunette’s hair before jogging back to the house, returning a few minutes later with a bag of ice wrapped in a layer of a thin paper towel.

“Here you go buddy,” he places the ice pack on the slightly swollen red area, seeing his son wince slightly at the cold.

Jo rocks him back and forth in her lap, placing tiny kisses on the top of his head, listening to his quiet sniffles. Her strong boy, never wanting anybody to know that he was hurting. Granted, it was just a wasp sting, but Kyle had gotten barely any injuries except for a scrape on the knee here and there from running around. For only three years old, he was surprisingly agile, differing greatly from his parents, since Alex practically tripped on anything in his path and Jo was prone to stubbing her toe at least once a day. (Her record was five just at the hospital; one gurney, a nurse’s counter, a doorway, a couch, and a table in the attendings lounge. She had lost count once she got home.)

Jo feels uneasy, protective mommy instincts kicking in and flow through her like a rapid river. “Should we take him to the hospital?” she runs a hand through the boy’s hair, untying any little knots that had formed from his mini adventures.

Alex snorts, chuckling to himself. Real funny Jo.

He feels a pair of eyes on him, looking up tentatively to meet his wife’s narrowed slits, glaring at him harshly. He raises his eyebrows, “You’re joking right?”

That only seems to set Jo off, as she opens her mouth in offense. He knows he’s about to get a lecture.

“Are you joking?” She questions, her tone borderline terrifying as she sends daggers to her husband.

Alex sighs, running a hand down his face. “Jo, it’s a bee sting.” he puts his hands behind him, leaning back onto his palms, ignoring the grass was still partially wet, despite the fact that the sprinklers hadn’t been on for over an hour and a half now. (Their grass seemed to not have the ability to absorb water, which might actually be because of the soil and not the actual grass itself, but who knows.)

“And how do we know he’s not allergic!” the brunette argues back, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, gaze never wavering from his.

“Jo, he’s not allergic.” he says exasperatedly. He knew for a fact that he and Jo could go at this for hours. More than once they’d been able to turn a thirty second argument into a two hour back and forth, switching the subjects more times than they could count, but somehow it always still came back to their original topic of discussion. He loved those fights, and he knew she did too. They thoroughly enjoyed getting to pick apart the other’s brain in something other than a new surgical procedure, suture technique, or way to get Kyle’s clothes to not look like they had been thrown in a pile of mud by the end of the day. All couple’s had their thing, and theirs was bickering like they had been married for sixty years.

But as much as he loved those fights, he didn’t want another one of those right now. All he wanted to do that day was spend his free day off with the two most important people in his life without a care in the world. Of course, part of that had already gone down the drain, since his son had a swelling red spot on his arm and his wife was pissed at him.

The woman glares at him, “You don’t know that”.

Alex sighs, “Jo.” he deadpans. “Is he wheezing or having trouble swallowing?”

Jo looks away, avoiding eye contact as she purses her lips. “No.”

“Is there swelling on his face, throat, or tongue?” He hears Jo’s voice get quieter, still making sure not to look at him.

“No.”

“Is he experiencing dizziness, hives, a rapid p-”

She cuts him off, throwing her hands up and sighing in defeat, “Fine! He’s not allergic.” she mumbles, causing Kyle to look up at his mom, nerves etched onto his face.

“Mommy why are you yelling?” he questions, placing his small palm on her cheek. Jo takes his hand and pretends to eat it, making the little boy shriek with glee as he squirms in her lap like a wiggly worm.

“Daddy was just being a big butthead because Mommy was worried about you. Weren’t you being a big butthead Daddy?” Jo smirks at him, more than glad to have her son on her side. Kyle was a momma’s boy since birth, and it didn’t seem like he had plans on changing anytime soon. Thank god, because she didn’t know what she would do when Kyle stopped coming to her for nightly cuddles. She supposed she had a few more years until that happened though, much to her relief.

Alex playfully narrows his eyes at her, taking Kyle from her hold and standing up with him latched onto his hip. “Yep, I was a big butthead. Don’t say that word though bud, it’s not nice.”

The boy grins, his smile toothy and crooked. “Then don’t be a butthead.” he says matter-of-factly, wrapping his arms around his dad’s neck as the three make their way inside the house, Muffin trailing not far behind, wet paws making small spots on the wood.

Alex laughs, giving Kyle a pat on the back. “I won’t be a butthead buddy. I won’t be a butthead.” He gives Jo a smile, taking in the way her eyes light up at the sight of her two favorite boys joking and playing around with each other.

Alex leans closer to Jo, whispering so Kyle couldn’t hear them. “I’m the peds surgeon Jo, which means I'm always right.” he smirks triumphantly.

The brunette’s mouth opens wide, partially scandalized. She slaps him on the arm, the grin never leaving her face as they enter the kitchen through the backdoor. “Asshole!”

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iamtheempress · 4 years

Text

Cold Blooded

A Dragon Ball Horror Fic {Part 8}

☆☆☆

The Gravity Chamber, at 500 times gravity was nothing compared to how heavy the princes heart felt. Whether he wanted to admit it or not he hurt Carlie and the fact she was UNDERSTANDING- other then alive- is nothing short of a miracle.. shes still his fiance, his mate. Vegeta was getting sloppy and keeping his mind occupied was proving to be a bigger challenge in and of itself.

"Why dont you go apologize to her already?" Bulma's voice cut through the gravity chambers speakers. Vegeta pounded his fist straight through a bot and looked to the screen on the wall. Hes quiet. "Vegeta, your so fucking dense.. shes going through trauma too. All she wants is to be comforted and if you can collect yourself and man up and speak to your *fiance* maybe you two will be stronger then ever.. just get your ass outside and see her." "Where." The prince piped up and turned off the chamber that was encased in red light. "Balcony from my room shes checking out the scenery with her new vision" she winks and turns off the display. "New vision..?" He furrows a brow and rushes out of the chamber.

He made his way to the other end of the building paying no mind to doctors and physicians who stood around scratching their heads. It seems like confusion was becoming more infectious in the walls of capsule corp then people were comfortable with..

He saw her.

Standing on the balcony with the robe that was leant to her from Bulma, he took a deep breath and made his way to the door. The wind fluttering curtains out of the building.

"Woman." He piped up, clenching his shaking fists.

Carlie turned eyes wide and tilted her head. Shes not wearing glasses. Its a new sight for the prince and certainly for her. She was so interested in seeing him she had a look of childlike wonder.

"Hey Vegeta, i was just about to come look for you, wanted to show you this." She pointed to her face, she was focused on him for the first time without glasses and Carlie simply loved it.. she welcomed him on the balcony and they stood side by side, Vegeta kept his place and stared at her gathering his thoughts and how to say it.

"Carlie. You know i didn't mean to do what i did… in any way shape or form id never lay a hand on you maliciously.. what I'm saying is that-'' she cut him off with a finger to his lips silencing the bumbling prince.

"My prince doesn't stutter over his words. That tells me your sorry and that's all i need." He sighed in relief and held her arms staring into her eyes. "No more glasses i assume?" He pushes bleached blonde locks out of her face to view her new look closer. "Nope! I have 20/20 vision now! The serum perfected it completely.. should be permanent. Like it?"

Vegeta tilted his face and hummed out a chuckle "Never mattered to me woman" he encircled his arms around her back and pulled her into a passionate hard kiss, nothing about Vegeta was soft or sweet. Let alone kissing or a rare apology. She welcomed it with a smile and running her fingers into his hair and deepening it. They were interupted by the sound of Bulma's voice. "No sex on my bed please you two." She casually asked of them making Vegeta smirk down at his woman beaming with relief. "No promises." Carlie held him close and looked at the blue haired engineer. "So i take it you both made up? Wedding still on?" "Plan never changed if im not mistaken" Vegeta grumbled and leaned back against the railing. "Good. I have food ready for everyone, Carlie go get dressed and meet us out there." She requested disrobing from the white lab coat. "Heard that. Im guessing hes not joining us again." She gulped, referring to Frieza. "No he had his fill already. Gets his food sent to his room." Bulma always had a way of making people comfortable in any bullshit situation. "Alright ill meet yall out there."

Carlie dressed in the little black dress she had as a backup in Bulmas closet. Simple and easy to slip on. Along with blue slides on so she wasn't barefoot going to the balcony. Upon closing the door she was met with the quiet halls of capsule corp she adjusted the dress and made her way down the hall only to be stopped by a familiar sight.

"Carlie!" Goku chirped coming from the direction of the lab. "Hey Goku! Long time no see. How you been?"

"Oh y’know all well and good, Vegeta told me that the serum was done so i stopped by and went into the lab to get the edible versions. Hope that’s no trouble!" He rubbed the back of his neck with a grin.

She laughed and walked in tandem with the larger saiyan to the balcony. "No no problem there. I should really come up with a name for it instead of calling it 'serum'." Goku made a thoughtful noise and tilted his head.

"Pick Me Up?" He said quite instantly. As if he already had a name for it. "Goku where the hell did you hear a phrase like that?" "Huh? Im not sure, really. Somethin i used to say with senzu beans or when I'm in a hospital bed, and believe me everyone needs a good Pick Me Up" Carlie snorted, Goku was that weird comic relief she needed in her life, some things are just too serious and then there was Goku to remind people there’s worse thing out there to be worried about then that on earth, the both of them stopped at the doorway from the balcony.

"It was strange actually, Frieza let me in the lab when i got there." Carlie raised a brow. "Really? Weird." She goes to the balcony with Goku who sees the smorgasbord of food. "Got room for one more?" "Yes Goku, we got more" Bulma says being served and points to Goku. The wait staff nods and goes back to fetch more food for the Saiyan with the biggest appetite and Carlie, who took her place beside the prince.

Something still sat heavy on her mind..

Why was Frieza in her lab?

Beneath the foundation of the corporation was Carlie’s Lab, and within that lab lay her best creation now being manufactured ten fold from enterprises, and Frieza was witnessing the young scientists' empire rise slowly. The former emperor strode around the lab and to a display with Frieza’s name scrawled across the drawn on screen. He smiled at the little things, whether it be penmanship or be it her dainty way she wrote in general there was something about her that Frieza enjoyed. Maybe it was her interest in him, maybe it was her kindness where others found reasons to hate him.

He didnt hate it. He felt the need to keep it to himself, to let it fester for his own amusement. He dipped his head forward and looked to a bag sitting erect on the floor.

Marked with the letter F. He tilted his head and picked it up, curious, he pulled out a large bottle of Merlot. “Hmm… Precious little thing remembered” He was caught off guard by the sound of someone opening the door to the lowermost part just before the labs door, he twitched upon hearing an unfamiliar voice.

He slid the wine back into the bag and placed it back to where he found it. Gliding with grace and absolute silence to the wall besides the door to listen. “Have you seen Norman anywhere?” A deep voice questioned, an older human physician.

“Havent since he sent another nude of Carlie..” “A real dime piece she is.. Too bad she still is with that weird alien.” “Ah come off it.. We have our Stache and she is none the wiser.”

Friezas fists clenched tight behind his back as he leaned against the wall, and a small knowing smile spread across his tightly lined black lips. Easy prey. He thought.

“So why are we down here, Nick?” the fat short one asked as the other fumbled with pills and some strange vial. “Easy, Bruce… were sabotaging her coffee so she can fall asleep faster, and were going to get that coding for that stimulant. Dumb bitch wouldnt know what hit her.” The door clicked open and In walked the Physicians, unbeknownst to them there untimely end would be at the hands of frieza.

At breakneck speed, Frieza apprehended both of them one by the neck with his tail and the other with his hand outstretched gripping the fat short ones neck, tight enough to hear a loud crunch before he could cry out for help.

“Tsk tsk tsk… you meddlesome little vermin were going to harm, Carlie” He lifted the one who was devising the plan into the air and tightened the appendage around his throat tighter, his fat friend gurgling almost unconscious on his own blood. His eyes flicked to the room in the back marked incinerator. Friezas devilish smile and bright vermillion eyes flickered from one physician to the other. “I do believe a swift punishment for disgusting little creatures like you are in order., wouldn't you agree, Bruce?” He walked forward with one hand anchored to his back as the door opened to him as if by will, the one being suspended in mid air was kicking and gasping, while the other was being dragged by his bottom jaw.

“This is a crude little disposal unit but it will do for now, besides trash belongs in the trash.” He tossed the fat one into the disposal pit with enough force to crack his head against the wall, the impact making a loud crunch; he gasped and twitched, spitting up blood on the ground, covered in charred remains of glass and waste.

Frieza brought the human to eye level with him and tilted his head as he stared in the face of sweet delicious fear, decadent tears and the succulent sight of sweat and blood shot eyes of the strangled doctor.

“Those pictures better be worth your utter demise. Too bad you wont be able to touch a woman as beautiful as her,” He took hold of his arms and with minimal effort popped both of his arms off his person like a doll, the dismembered doctor went wide eyed and cried before being flung head first into the same spot his partner hit.

“Now you wont have anything to touch her with….” He grinned laying the arms one over the other in the pit before clicking the incinerator activation button, sealing the two still living doctors away in a hard glass chamber door, and licks of fire erupting from the floor like hell reaching up to grab at them both. Frieza leaned against the wall marveling at the two doctors flop around like fish out of water… screaming silently for a help that will never arrive. Only to see their executioner behind the glass window beyond walls of rising fire, like the Devil himself.

“You will thank me, Carlie.” He assured sauntering from the room only to be met with a tiny floor cleaning robot that mopped up the floor of all the blood that soaked the linoleum floor. The perfect murder, and the best little cleanup crew and no one was any the wiser.

The emperor looked over at the bottle of wine left out for him then back to the screen with all the information of his physical genetic makeup, hes thoroughly impressed and with a swipe of his hand the coding goes over to the Saiyan genetic makeup with the green wording beneath it.

Perfected.

Frieza narrows his brows and hums. A tab opens with all the reasons why it is perfected. Most of these reasons are beneficial and to aid civilization as a whole. Both alien and human alike, and shes only put forth the battle stimulant. “This benevolent little woman is more creative then I expected.. Ohoho.. Your only peaking my interest further and further Carlie.”

He goes back to his own investigation and feels like hes seen enough. He’ll inspect his findings later, but for now he is in wait. The incinerator dings indicating its disposal has ended. Frieza grins maliciously. “Too bad that was much faster than anticipated…”

☆☆☆

Authors note: Thanks for waiting, works been crazy and havent had time to really get this done fast enough.

Taglist: @gallickingun @gonuclear @dragonblobz @dragonballcollector @lilfriezatyrant @mommaofthesayianguild @lizardhipsdontlie @supremeleadershitlord @thotful-writing @trans-asshole @memevember

#Cold Blooded fic #Murder tw #Gore tw #death tw #strangulation tw #Frieza x Oc #Frieza #Vegeta x oc #Vegeta #dragon ball fanfiction

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powerwordsleep · 4 years

Text

Sasuke Retsuden (Unoffical English Translation)

Prologue

Here’s the next installment! Enjoy~

DISCLAIMER: This is not an official translation and was not made for profit or distribution. This translation was fan-made and done for purely enjoyment and translation practice purposes. I do not own the rights to NARUTO or any of the related materials.

CONTENT WARNING FOR GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE AND GORE.

Prologue | Chapter 2

Chapter 1

With his fangs still in the man’s body, Menō landed without making a sound. He suddenly opened his mouth and dropped the man he held in his mouth to the ground.

“...Ugh…”

He tried to crawl away, but Menō kicked him, sending him sprawling. He stabbed the claws on his foot into the man’s shoulders and started dragging him away slowly. He finally stopped when he reached the middle of the yard then opened his mouth, dripping red with blood, and took a bite out of the man’s right shoulder.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” The man shrieked, his body contorting in pain.

Menō ripped at his flesh, and the blood dripping from the wound mixed with the steady stream pouring from his stomach, quickly forming a puddle of red on the earth. Making a fast meal out of the man’s head and chest would be enjoyable. Menō instead flipped the man’s body around and started to eat the shallow flesh of his hips. He pulled at the thin fibers of muscle, and the man cried out, his face pressed into the ground, sand filling his mouth.

Menō took his time tasting the man’s flesh and blood. He had purposefully dragged the deserter’s body to the middle of the courtyard where the other prisoners could witness his meal. It was a warning—this is what will become of you if you try to run.

“Eugh! I’m still alive! Please!”

The other prisoners watched from a distance, a grimace on their faces and pickaxes resting on their shoulders. Menō teared at the flesh like he was playing with it. When he finally got to the organs and the drip drip drip of blood could be heard from afar, the man’s scream faded out until they could no longer be heard.

“Well, that’s about it for Nogema. Quickly, back to your stations.” At the sound of the low voice from behind them, all the prisoners froze at once.

A slender man wearing silver-rimmed glasses slowly emerged from the building.

The director of the Tartar Astronomy Research Institute. Zansur. The person in charge of this place and Menō’s master.

“If you don’t move quickly Menō will make you his dessert.”

Although Zansur’s voice was light, there was an underlying intimidation to it; the prisoners paled at his joke. From within the sea of prisoners scattering to their various work stations, Sasuke observed Menō in secret.

Menō swung his large, long tail, using it to keep balance as he bent over, his head lost in the soft flesh and blood in the belly of the corpse. The hard skin covering his head was stained red with blood, the yellow pupil of his eyes shining brightly.

A carnivorous prison guard who faithfully obeyed Zansur—that was Menō.

A huge, bipedal lizard covered in thick skin, with nail-shaped fangs and sharp claws. When standing he was 80 centimeters in height, but if you measured from the top of his head to the tip of his tail, he was no less than two meters. What’s terrifying was the strength of his legs. Sprouting from under his torso are two horrible, spring-like legs that can move ten meters in a single leap.

This place was not a prison. The patrols did not keep watch over the prisoners 24 hours a day like guards should. There were no locks on their living quarters nor on any of the buildings' entrances. Nevertheless, the prisoners living here followed the rules obediently—because of Menō.

As long as there was Menō, who watched over the grounds authoritatively and showed no mercy in eating those who break the rules alive, then rarely would there be anyone who would dare try to escape.

***********

The prisoners’ job at the Astronomy Research Institute was mainly digging up dirt. Using farming tools, they were tasked with scraping up the frost covered soil. If they came across a large rock or hard clumps of earth, they had to carefully dig it up and remove it. And repeat.

It seemed that the work was necessary in order to build the foundation for a giant telescope, but the longtime prisoners said that for close to a year they’ve been forced to do this work endlessly.

“Ugh, it’s cold.”

Working next to him was Jiji, who was currently standing with his pickaxe resting against his hip, furiously rubbing his hands together. The mornings were particularly cold. The temperatures were low enough to freeze snot before it fell from their noses to the ground.

“Aren’t you cold, Sasuke?”

“Yes.” He answered honestly. Sasuke rubbed his hand against the handle of his pickaxe and warmed them up with the friction. He was used to working under harsh conditions, but cold is cold.

“Ugh, I hate it here... Why did they build the Astronomy Research Institute in such a cold place? The snow already melted a while ago. At this rate I’m going to end up freezing to death. Well, actually, after seeing that guy get eaten this morning, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to freeze to death in my sleep.”

Did Jiji ever get tired of this monotonous work? He certainly never tired of speaking.

Jiji was a fellow prisoner and Sasuke’s cellmate. He was locked up on charges of stealing food because he had none. His sentence was a minimum of six months. Since they were about the same age and both in good physical condition, they were assigned to the same work division and were often paired together.

Jiji rubbed his reddened nose and then suddenly let out a yelp.

“Shit, I hurt myself. Ah, but this is lucky! Now I can go to the doctor’s office.”

“What’s so great about the doctor’s office?”

“Didn’t you hear? There’s a newly arrived lady doctor. Word on the street is she’s beautiful and kind.”

He chuckled and added, “And she’s single. No significant other.”

This caused Sasuke to look up from his work. “How do you know she’s single?”

“Because she isn’t wearing a ring.”

A ring?

Jiji noticed the blank look on Sasuke’s face and continued. “Oh yeah, you’re not from around here. It’s Redaku custom for people to exchange rings when they get married. If you wear a ring on the second to last finger of your left hand, that means you’re married. That lady doctor isn’t wearing a ring, so—ah, shit. The patrols.”

Noticing the approaching guards, Jiji cut his explanation short. He picked up his pickaxe, the blade worn and chipped, and set about diligently hammering away at earth, as was his duty. The patrols came up to watch this, swinging around their batons while walking by, scowling at Jiji. They did not, however, try to meet Sasuke’s eyes. They were afraid of him. Once the guards continued on their way, Jiji discarded his tool once more and let out the pent up breath he’d be holding.

“Ugh. Fuck this shit, I hate it here.”

Sasuke shared the sentiment. He let out a sigh and turned to look behind him. The Tartar Astronomy Research Institute sat quietly atop a desolate mountain range. Built 1,000 meters above sea level, it was a fierce stone prison. It is said that the Rokudō Sennin himself stayed at this place. He was supposed to have collected documents here. That was the reason Sasuke came here.

Naruto was suffering from an illness back in the Land of Fire. Sasuke was here to gather the documents the Rokudō Sennin collected for Naruto. That was his sole purpose. Being unable to do anything else at such a time was frustrating. Right now Naruto’s illness was getting worse with each passing second—

“What’s wrong with you? You’re making a scary face.” Jiji’s voice cut through his thoughts. His cellmate’s eyes stared curiously at him from beneath the shadow of his bangs.

“It’s nothing.”

“Really? You had a really serious look on your face.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Sasuke dexterously picked up his pickaxe with his arm, signaling the end of the conversation.

***********

After dinner Sasuke returned to his cell. As his hand touched the iron bars, he was greeted by a cut-off scream.

“AA—”

There in the middle of the cell, a gangly and petite man was lying prostrate on the floor. It was one of Sasuke’s three cellmates, Penzira. Jiji sat opposite him, legs crossed. Between the two men was a bowl with dice rolling around inside it.

“Jiji, you bastard! It’s snake eyes!”

“Heh, my bad. I’ll just take that cig, then.” Jiji snickered and pulled the cigarette on the floor towards him. It seemed that they were playing Cee-lo.

Although many prisoners become obsessed with gambling in a life of imprisonment without other forms of entertainment, Penzira has been an addict since well before. He loved playing dirty and doing underhanded tricks, but a series of successive losses earned him a pile of debt, and he got caught in multiple false marriage scams in attempts to pay it off. He had a minimum one year sentence.

Penzira noticed Sasuke. “Ah, Sasuke. Come play Cee-lo with us!” He shook the dice in the bowl incessantly.

“I’ll pass.”

“What’s up with you? So unpleasant.” Penzira frowned in disappointment and then turned his attention to the corner of the room. “Ganno! What’re you doing? Stop drawing pictures or whatever and get over here already!” He called out to Ganno, the third cellmate.

In the corner of the room squatting like a chicken on its eggs was Ganno, his back to Penzira. “Now’s no good.” He replied curtly.

Ganno, in his late sixties, was the oldest man in the cell. He was painting the loose skin on the nape of his skin completely red with paint.

“Are you still doing that? Aren’t you tired of it yet?”

“Don’t talk to me. I’ve almost completed an important part.”

It was one month ago that Ganno suddenly exclaimed, “I’ve found something great!” while out during his work shift, and returned to the cell with his pockets stuffed with red and brown rocks. Starting the next day Ganno would smash the rocks together, every morning and evening, not caring how raw his hands became. Over the course of five days the rocks were all crushed. Next he peeled off the skin from the soles of his feet. Then, he asked his friends in charge of the kitchen if he could borrow an open stove, and he used it before and after every meal for two hours; in total, he boiled the skin for close to 30 hours. Those around Ganno questioned his sanity when they saw the blood soaked bandages wrapped around his feet, but the man himself looked perfectly happy.

A broth of melted skin and a reddish brown powder made from painstakingly crushed rocks.

It was the day Sasuke arrived that Ganno finally had these two materials. While the others went to hurriedly greet the newcomer, Ganno began to mix both ingredients on top of pine leaves. Sasuke was struck breathless as he saw his cellmate completely absorbed in a task he didn’t understand.

The dull, reddish brown powder increased in viscosity when mixed with the both, and it transformed into a glossier color. After kneading the mixture for a few minutes, he completed the Kamain’s rock paint. It was a vivid red like Japanese plums. Every night since then Ganno has enjoyed painting, using pine leaves as a brush and his toenails as a canvas.

“Anyway, I’ll get rid of it before the inventory check next week.” Jiji was exasperated by this response and turned his back on the diligently working man, telling him the nail art didn’t suit him. “That’s why I’m hurrying. I’m already on my pinky finger,” replied Ganno. His voice was always cheerful.

A minimum sentence of 17 years in prison for treason against the nation. Ganno claimed his crime was painting a portrait for an aristocrat who opposed the Prime Minister. His father was also a painter, but he became obsessed and always had a paintbrush in hand, neither liking nor disliking what he painted.

A drawing that took one week to paint, done with a brush that took three weeks to make. Sasuke didn’t quite understand why Ganno would want to complete something that he would have to get rid of in a week, but any entertainment was important here.

The prisoners share what is basically a six-mat tatami room among four people. In such a confined space, adults breaking out in a fight was natural; beating each other until they were bloody and senseless was an everyday occurrence. In such an environment, Sasuke’s cell was comparatively peaceful. They weren’t exactly friendly, but so far no problems had arisen.

Ganno was absorbed in his art, and both Jiji and Penzira were upset at their dice rolls. Sasuke was gazing absentmindedly at the moon until it was time for lights out. This was what usually went on in the cell each evening.

“Yo, Sasuke, you should play too!”

“We’ll let you have the first go.” After each turn Jiji and Penzira would invite the lonesome Sasuke to play.

“No thanks,” came his short reply. He heard a faint noise and turned his gaze to the window that faced out into the courtyard. The white, illuminating light of the moon was blocked for a moment by a shadow. It was probably Menō out in the grounds. There was something about Menō that bothered Sasuke. If he were to do some research, now would be the perfect time.

“I’ve changed my mind.” Sasuke stood up and seated himself across from Penzira. “I’m your opponent now.”

“What, really? Hell yeah!”

“I don’t have cigarettes, so can I bet on something else?” Sasuke asked, reaching into his pocket and pretending to pull something out. He focused his chakra into his fingers, and using a simple Earth Style jutsu, activated the elements in the soil, arranging the atoms until they smoothed out and crystallized.

Rolling around in his palm was a red stone. It was a large ruby about the size of a cherry.

“Huh? Is that a jewel? Is that real?”

“No way, it can’t be. It’s probably glass or something.”

Jiji and Penzira inspected the jewel closely. Sasuke neither confirmed nor denied, but the jewel in his hand was certainly physically the real deal. Unfortunately, it was man-made.

“A pretty glass jewel, huh… we could take it and then melt it down in a fire and smoke it. That would be fun, yeah?”

“You don’t have any cigarettes left to bet on, I took everything you had last game. Bet on your meal duty.”

Sasuke picked up the bowl. “We don’t need cigarettes, and you don’t need to swap your meal duties. Instead, I want you to do me a favor.”

“A favor?”

“I’ll explain afterwards.” He placed the bowl on the tatami and grabbed three dice. He faced Penzira and asked, “What’s the best roll?”

“Of course you don’t know the rules. It’s snake eyes. You gotta get three digits.”

“Alright then, I’ll roll that.”

Jiji and Penzira looked at him. Even Ganno stopped working on his hand in order to watch Sasuke.

Sasuke channeled his chakra to his closed fist. The moment he rolled the dice, an imperceptible force guided them. With a clatter, the wooden dice rolled around inside the bowl.

“Seriously…”

Seeing three red dots lined up, Penzira’s mouth fell open. Like Sasuke had said, he, of course, rolled snake eyes. While Jiji and Genno were also sitting there stunned, Sasuke leisurely stood up.

“Looks like I win.”

“Rolling snake eyes right after saying you will—there ain’t luck like that. That was cheating!” Jiji smacked Penzira on the shoulder, ignoring his whine of protest.

“I told you to give up!”

When gambling with prisoners, cheating was a common occurrence. The unspoken rule here was if you don’t catch someone in the act of cheating, then it doesn’t count.

“You promised me a favor, Penzira.”

“... I can’t do anything too difficult.”

“Relax, it’s not bad.” Sasuke said and stood, heading for the door. “I’m going for a walk. When the patrols come around, cover for me.”

Penzira thought he was joking and laughed, but when he noticed Sasuke’s serious expression he followed after him, flustered. During the downtime before bed, you were free to do as you liked as long you stayed in the cells. The second you stepped foot out of your cell, you were breaking the rules.

“This is crazy! It’ll be obvious that someone is missing, how am I supposed to cover for you?”

“Stuff my futon.”

“Oh, we’ll just deceive the guards, is that it? They’re not children!” Penzira followed him out the door, complaining all the while.

“Sasuke!” Jiji called after him through the iron bars. “You get it, right? If you’re caught breaking the rules, you’ll be sent to receive punishment before you can offer up any excuses. If it’s Menō who finds you, he’ll eat you alive, no questions asked.”

“I’ll be back soon,” Sasuke replied calmly.

“That’s not the issue...” Penzira moaned.

***********

Within the grounds of the Tartar Astronomy Research Institute, there were two buildings located on the east and west end of the courtyard. Located on the west end was the multi-purpose building that housed the prisoners, which looked like it had been hastily put together with some branches that had been lying around. Opposite that, on the east end, was the headquarters of the institute.

Prisoners were forbidden from entering this building, but Sasuke held no such reservations as he boldly walked through the front door.

When he took his first step into the entryway, he was greeted by thick, fur-lined carpet. The headquarters was a completely different world from the barracks. It had been renovated since the Tartar era, and now was a magnificent brick building that resembled a royal palace. There seemed to be four stories above ground, and based on this country’s architectural standards, it was fairly large.

While the prisoners were forced to cry themselves to sleep on hard stone floors wrapped up in their thin futons, here the hallways, stairwells, and of course the rooms themselves were lined wall to wall with plush carpet. Thanks to the stucco-lined brick exterior, the building was naturally free from any cold drafts, and the guards’ rooms all had large fireplaces with which to heat their quarters. The difference was like walking on a cloud, compared to the barracks which would sometimes have icicles hanging inside the rooms during the snowy season.

As he walked through the corridors of the building, Sasuke would hide himself in rooms and attach himself to the ceiling whenever he heard the guards approaching on their patrols. But he purposely wasn’t masking his chakra presence, because of that giant lizard—it was to alert Menō. Since he couldn’t use words with his reptilian opponent, he planned on manipulating him with genjutsu to see if he could obtain any new information that way.

Menō surpassed other reptiles in terms of reflexes, speed, and power. No matter how you looked at it, Menō was a summon. Since he obeyed Zansur’s every command, there was a high chance that he was the one who gave Menō his powers. Originally, this country had no shinobi, but he’d heard that the Prime Minister had gathered rogue ninja here for a war.

It was likely that Zansur was a shinobi and he had summoned Menō using Kuchiyose, and now the two were connected via his chakra.

But a summon was not supposed to last this long. Menō was constantly stalking around the institute, morning and evening, keeping watch over the prisoners. That would mean Zansur was using Kuchiyose for at least 20 hours each day. That was way too long. Did Zansur have chakra reserves that large? Or perhaps the basic structure of this Kuchiyose technique was different from those passed down in the Land of Fire—

Tap tap. From down the corridor came the sound of nails hitting the floor.

Sasuke came to a halt, and met a pair of yellow eyes floating in the dark. Sidling out of the darkness came of the form of Menō.

“So you came.”

Sasuke raised his eyelids and focused his chakra to his eyes.

The Sharingan.

A red eye with three spinning black pinwheels met Menō’s gaze. He instantly activated his doujutsu, and dragged Menō into a genjutsu—or he intended to.

Whoosh!

Menō vaulted off the floor and leaped towards Sasuke. Sharp claws raked at Sasuke from the side and managed to cut off a lock of Sasuke’s hair.

Did the genjutsu not work?

Sasuke fended off the attack from Menō, and backed up until he hit the wall, then came to a stop. Winding up like a spring, Menō gathered strength in his legs before leaping forward, closing the distance between him and Sasuke in an instant. The pair of yellow eyes met his once again, but it had the same result. The genjutsu didn’t work.

As Menō thrust a fist towards him, Sasuke suddenly ducked down beneath his chest. He shoved him with the palm of his hand while his leg swept Menō’s feet out from under him. The sound of the floor cracking could be heard under Menō’s now prone form, and Sasuke ceased his attack. Leaving behind traces of a fight for the director and others to discover was dangerous. It made no sense, especially after all the trouble he went through to come here undetected.

Sasuke used the brief moment of reprieve to put some distance between them, when Menō’s eyes suddenly snapped open. Using his long tail like a whip, he threw himself at Sasuke and landed directly behind him. Sasuke barely dodged the hit, one that could’ve cost him his life.

He’s fast!

Sasuke used a Water Style jutsu to create a make-shift kunai out of ice, and wielding it, slashed at the sharp claws that were honing in on him then severed them from their fingertips. Without flinching, Menō continued his advance, and Sasuke continued slashing his way up the lizard’s torso.

“Gyah!” Menō let out a high-pitched scream and landed roughly on the ground. Yellow fluid poured out from a large, open wound in his stomach.

Oops.

Sasuke regretted the move instantly, but it was too late.

Menō staggered, then rushed to jump out a nearby window. When he came to the wall he smashed into it, toppling part of it over, and lept down into the courtyard below. He made a run for it at full speed, the yellow liquid drenching his body as it continued to spill out from his wound.

Sasuke bit his lip and dropped his gaze down to the palm of his hand, where a terrible sensation lingered. That last attack he landed with his kunai went deep. It was very likely a fatal wound.

***********

However—

The next day as Sasuke was looking out into the courtyard from his usual seat in the cafeteria, he spotted a familiar long tail swaying to and fro, and his eyes widened in shock.

You’re being foolish. It can’t be.

As if feeling his eyes on him, Menō faced Sasuke and met his gaze. However, as though he had no memory of the events from the night before, he huffed and quickly turned away.

Menō is alive.

Although he had suffered lasting damage, his body showed no signs of injury. Sasuke had no idea what this could mean. It was like he needed to get his eyes checked.

“So you’re the one who raised a hand against Menō. Number 487.” A voice abruptly came from behind him.

Zansur.

Sasuke had been waiting to initiate direct contact with him, but if he had revealed himself, then there was no point in hiding now. Besides, there were some things he wanted to ask him as well.

Sasuke activated his Sharingan as he turned around to face him. His eyes bled into red, and three pinwheels spun in his iris as he met Zansur’s gaze.

In the next moment—Sasuke sucked in a breath.

He only noticed it for the first time with his Sharingan. Behind the silver-rimmed frames of Zansur’s glasses were glass eyes.

“Your eyes…”

“Yes, yes, very good,” Zansur squinted at him, and the corner of his mouth lifted up in a smirk as he laughed. “You’re very keen. Every day my underlings can barely look at me, so no one else has noticed.”

Zansur reached out his arm and touched the windowsill behind Sasuke. His eyes moved naturally, and seemed to have good vision no matter where he looked. However, no matter how many times Sasuke checked to confirm, Zansur’s left and right eyes were definitely made of pure glass.

Zansur leaned in close and whispered in Sasuke’s ear. “It seems that you can use some ninjutsu… I’ll remember that.” The fake eye on the left made one full revolution in his eye socket, moving as if it were a living creature.

“It’ll take more than one measly ninja to take Menō away from me.”

#Sasuke Retsuden #NARUTO #SasuSaku #Sasuke Uchiha #Sakura Haruno #Jiji #Meno #Zansur #Penzira #Genno

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woodrokiro · 4 years

Text

Hollowed (fic) Part Three

Fandom: Bleach

Pairing: IchiRuki

Summary: They call her a miracle, but he looks at her as if she’s normal. It scares her. Fantasy/Futuristic/Zombie kinda?AU. Read Part One and Part Two.

As a kid, Ichigo imagined this place to be heaven on Earth.

High up on the mountain, heavily secured by both stone walls and the near entirety of the militia, containing the smartest doctors and scientists dedicated to fighting the Hollowed--these are details that can allow more luxuries than one in the Valley could ever imagine.

He believed the walls to be just adorned in gold, gardens and fields bursting with fruits and vegetables to last years, doctors that can aid without having to wait until it’s officially deemed “safe” outside, and its people walking the grounds like they were on Cloud 9.

And… Yes, it’s incredible how privileged these people are to be living within such a structurally secured community. There are, indeed, ancient tapestries on the walls that must be hundreds of years old from the Old World at least, and he is disgusted with how plentiful the food is here compared to what is provided to the Valley.

But there’s… Something heavy in the air here.

The constant fog of the mountain has clearly taken its toll on the castle, as he notices mildew and mold in quite a few corners of stone. It’s crumbling, some trees outside bend to the ground as if too tired to pick themselves up, and it’s so fucking cold like good God, this is the place everyone says will be humanity’s saving grace?

And it’s not just the place itself: everyone walks with order, with a restrained purpose that never deviates within the day. There wasn’t much joy back where he was from either… But Jesus. He smiled at the maid that showed them their rooms the first night and she nearly bolted out of the room. There is a dark look in everyone’s eye, a near-obsessive work ethic as if they’re terrified that today someone will call them lazy and have them kicked back down the mountain.

Of course, the level of comfort at which you sit in your job depends on your station.

The caste system here nearly dictates that the militia is king, the scientists are nobles, and the “service” (cooks, farmers, housekeepers) are the bugs beneath everyone’s feet.

And Yamamoto is God.

Blame it on him being from a normal (albeit, more dangerous) village, but he hates this hierarchy bullshit.

---

“The more I see of this place, the less I like,” he tells his group their first night with crossed arms. “What, just because they have more access to weapons and protection they’re better than us? What makes that old guy in charge? Why did that Hinamori chick just near run out of the room? And what was the deal with that...” he motions wildly with his hands, trying to express… He doesn’t know. “You know. The girl in the really fancy dress, what’s her deal?!”

He sees Karin rolling her eyes, and Uryu sighs. “Kurosaki, we don’t have a choice. Obviously we’re allowed here on some favor from your father, but these aren’t people we want to rock the boat with. It’s a thin line between being a reluctantly welcomed guest and a happily thrown out one.”

“While it’s clear that Ichi-nii is having issues expressing himself here, I agree with my brother,” Karin cuts in. “On the other side of that coin: why did they allow us in? There have been people with more vying for a position here for years. Protection like this is worth all the gold and silver and food in the world. What was with our dad’s sword that made it so easy? Something’s fishy here, and I don’t like it.”

“Maybe Lord Yamamoto remembers your father as a friend, Ichigo? Or he just suddenly realized that there were some jobs open? There were these extra rooms already here, after all…” Inoue’s voice is hopeful, and Yuzu next to her nods enthusiastically in agreement.

But Karin won’t budge. “Nah, these guys are military, the same ones that were supposed to protect us all these years and failed so miserably they escaped up here. There’s no way there are noble intentions here.”

“The point is, we can’t be too careful here… Or at least reckless.” Uryu shoots a pointed look at him, and Ichigo has a not-so-rare urge to throw him out the window. “We have to lay low for a bit and keep our guard up. Kurosaki, it’s clear Yamamoto’s got some sort of an interest in you. He arranged some meetings with you in the coming days, yes?”

Ichigo shifts. “Well, yeah, but that could be just because he’s setting up a position for me--”

“All the rest of us are to report in the common hall for our positions tomorrow. You’re the only one actually meeting with him.” Uryu raises an eyebrow. “See what kind of information he gives you. Take note on what he needs from you. But remember: you have to follow his rules on his time. That’s the only way we’re going to know a little better on how this place works.”

The group sits in silent contemplation until Yuzu sniffles. “And then what?” Her voice is shaky, and her watery eyes break Ichigo’s heart. “After we figure out the system… Then where do we go? What do we do?”

Ichigo is about to say something falsely cheerful to comfort his sister before Chad in his corner clears his throat.

“We survive,” he finally says, and that has to be good enough for all of them.

---

And three days in, Ichigo still has no clue what Yamamoto’s got in store for him.

Although the messages he has received each morning since their arrival says that he’ll be meeting with the old man, he finds out it’s more like he’s meeting with generals and captains who represent Yamamoto, or something.

Powerful people are fucking weird.

In any case, he’s certainly not been twiddling his thumbs. A General Ukitake gave him a tour of the grounds, focusing more on the military section--and Ichigo guesses Yamamoto wanted to see if he was true to his word on using a sword, because then he was forced to spar with a few of the soldiers.

Mostly easy fights, if you ask him--although one bald guy and an angry redhead kind of gave him a rough time--but Ichigo just barely avoided a battle with a Captain Kenpachi, who grinned maniacally and demanded a battle “as soon as the old geezer puts you back here.”.

(Ichigo’s pretty sure at this point he’s going to be put in a military position, and it fits. But he would really really like to not be in that captain’s squad.)

There’s been a couple of actual meetings with the old man, but nothing of substance: each lasts an uncomfortably long ten minutes, with Yamamoto staring at him for long periods of time before peppering in casual questions about his village, his group, and his father.

It’s bizarre, but Ichigo decides to follow Uryu’s advice for once and go along with the whole thing. He bristles at Yamamoto’s question concerning his mother… But otherwise, he answers them as honestly as he can.

He’s not given the worst job, he supposes.

Actually, nearly none of them are. Uryu--while resenting the military system as much as he did--snagged a spot at the wall with his bow, and he mentioned they might give him a position within science, what with his family’s medical background. Chad scored a position in weaponry, and while he doesn’t have any previous experience (that Ichigo knows of), Ichigo’s confident he’ll do great.

The girls are in the service, and Ichigo feels… Conflicted about that.

He gets the icky feeling that it’s weirdly sexist (even though Yuzu really is talented in the kitchen… BUT HER GENDER HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH IT), and can’t help but feel it as demeaning to his sisters and friend. The service is treated bottom rung here, after all, and if someone even remotely tries to mess with one of them…

Not to mention Karin is absolutely miserable.

But he knows she grits her teeth, does her job alongside Yuzu and Inoue and everyone else for the sake of being remotely safe for once in their goddamned lives. If she can suck it up, so can he.

The longer Yamamoto has him wait for his job, the more nervous it makes him. That’s all.

---

On the fourth morning after the others have headed to work, he receives a message to go directly to Yamamoto’s quarters.

He’s escorted by a few soldiers--which is weird, considering the ease of which he’s been going place to place the last few days--and the old man is sitting patiently at his desk, hands clasped together.

It’s like he’s going to get punished.

And he has no idea what Yamamoto has on him (probably something his old man did, screwing him over even after probable-death, the fucker), but Ichigo prays to whatever god might still be out there and care about humanity that the world can do whatever it wants to him, just leave his friends and sisters be--

“I’ve assigned a guard job for you, Ichigo Kurosaki.”

He stares blankly at the old man.

“That’s… It? After all this time?”

Yamamoto smiles in a way that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yes, well, we do apologize for the delay. There were some… Precautions that we had to take before getting you to this position. We wanted to make sure you were a right fit.”

“Oh… Okay. So am I at the gate with Uryu, or--”

“No, no. None of that.” A gnarled hand waves the thought away. “This is a private guard position. Very important. Tell me, do you remember seeing our Lady Rukia the day you arrived?”

Ichigo tries to think of the female faces he caught in the crowd, and then remembers the woman in the ornate garb. “The one dressed in all the… Dressed really nicely?”

“Yes, that very one. She is dressed to reflect how precious she is to us. We call her our ‘Prized One.’ Tell me, have you ever played chess? You might call her the queen of our board.”

“... I’m not sure I follow--”

“You don’t need to.” The response is sharp, so swift that Ichigo almost startles. Yamamoto glares hard behind his hands at him, before suddenly relaxing. “Just know that your job is to guard her. You will be going with her where she goes, watching the entrance to her rooms. We have enemies that would very much like to take her, and that… Would be devastating to our cause.”

Ichigo’s having a hard time biting his tongue on all the questions bubbling up. What the fuck is up with this girl?

Instead, he asks: “So, in terms of guarding her at night… I suppose what I’m trying to say here is, will I be her only guard? I hate to tell you I can’t be awake twenty four hours, sir.”

The old man chuckles dryly. “Of course not, my boy. Nothing of that sort is expected. We have a rotating staff at night while she sleeps; but you will be her primary guardian. In return, your group will be made of good use here.”

Ah. There it is.

“So you’re blackmailing me, eh? I knew it was only too convenient that you took on my friends and sisters so easily.”

“Not at all. They have all been mastering their duties beautifully. This is just… Insurance, you might say. If you do your job, they will keep theirs. You would be wise to take it; others have not had such an offer.”

“So why me? What’s so important about this job, and why does it have to be me that does it?”

“You’ll learn, as I’m sure your friends have told you, that it’s better not to question this institution. Just trust that this is a job I consider you capable of, and leave the decision making to us. Now,” Yamamoto slides a sheet of paper from the corner of his desk to himself and begins to write on it. “Go to the Northwest Hall, fourth floor. If you get lost, there will be service persons that can lead you the right direction. They’ve been made aware of your new position.”

The old man doesn’t even acknowledge Ichigo’s leaving as he writes further.

#ichiruki #bleach #ichigo kurosaki #rukia kuchiki #my stuff #hollowed

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artificialqueens · 4 years

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Undone, Chapter 26 (Bitney) - Stephanie/Veronica

A/N: Hey guys. To anyone who’s still reading this story, thank you for your patience between chapters, I know it’s been slow. Here’s a link to the previous chapters.

Thank you so much to @aqalbatross for beta-ing this chapter, and to @missdandee for helping to murder all the worst babies.

Summary: Slow burn? *Pours lighter fluid, strikes match*

TW: Past emotional abuse

***

“Check it out…” Courtney sings, setting a plant on the table near Bianca’s sewing machine. It’s full and lush and covered in little bright red peppers. She’d spent an hour at the nursery this morning carefully learning about every kind of pepper they had, and ended up with something she knew would make Bianca happy.

“Cool. I don’t think I’m allowed to eat chili peppers though,” Bianca sighs. “The doctor says it’ll make my heartburn worse.”

“No, I know. And I know you’ve been missing them. These are paprika peppers. Apparently they still have a tiny zing, but shouldn’t affect you the way the hotter ones did. Plus it’s cute, like you.”

Dimples deepen in Bianca’s cheek as she lets out an uncharacteristically girlish giggle, reaching for Courtney’s hand.

“Are you sure they aren’t spicy?” she asks.

“Pretty sure. I mean, obviously we’ll be careful. But yeah. You and Ruby Rose Del Rio should both be fine with this one,” says Courtney.

“...huh.” Bianca tilts her head thoughtfully.

“What?”

“Well...it might be because I’ve been staring at this dress all day...but I don’t hate the name ‘Ruby.’”

“Seriously? I love it. Let’s put it on the list!” Courtney exclaims.

“We have a list?”

“Yeah, you didn’t cringe when I said ‘Liam’ either.” Courtney places a kiss against Bianca’s forehead, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Liam’s okay. Ruby is cool,” Bianca says. She pulls the dress out of the sewing machine and holds it up. “Anyway...what do you think?”

Courtney glances down at the garment in her hands, a glittering red gown, and gasps softly. She reaches out to touch it.

“It’s so beautiful…”

“It’s for you.”

“Really?!” Courtney’s eyes light up.

“Mmhmm. It’s for episode 9.”

Of course, Courtney knows that this is Bianca’s job. To design glamorous dresses for the show, and especially for her character (well, Farrah’s character). But she can't help but think that maybe, just maybe, a little more thought had gone into this gown. She smiles at the thought, the unspoken premise that Bianca might be playing favorites.

“Can I try it on?” Courtney asks, batting her lashes sweetly.

“Yeah!” Thrilled with her enthusiasm, Bianca jumps up to help her change into the dress. As usual, almost out of habit, she averts her eyes when Courtney pulls off her top, trying to avoid direct eye contact with her perfect, perky tits. She swallows, pulling the straps up over Courtney’s shoulders.

“We haven’t done this in awhile…” Bianca comments, pinning the straps. Dimples pierce her cheeks as Courtney gazes at her.

“I know. You’ve been pawning me off on Jamie.” Courtney fingers a lock of Bianca’s dark hair. It’s only been a few days when she’s suspected that Bianca was intentionally avoiding her at work - not as much as during the dark days this summer, but definitely enough to notice. She wonders why, and misses those moments that they used to have together, just the two of them, Bianca’s fingers grazing her skin, eyes wandering over her body. As silly as it sometimes seems, that wardrobe trailer was a huge part of their evolving relationship. Courtney looks into Bianca’s eyes, waiting for an explanation.

“Well, I’m trying to stay focused. Especially lately, with all the lingerie we’ve got you in. It’s...distracting.”

Courtney licks her lips, moving closer, enough to feel Bianca’s heartbeat, a delightful shiver running through her body. “Yeah?”

It wasn’t ever Courtney’s intention to wait this long. She’s been craving Bianca’s touch since the day they met, and if anyone told her a couple of months ago that she’d be the one afraid to take their relationship to the next level, she’d have laughed in their face.

But it was difficult to separate sex from the sting of rejection. It was why, as much as she defended their relationship to her friends, she still had that uneasiness in her chest whenever things got too heated. It was why she kept up a wall, tried to protect herself.

Now though, she’s feeling a shift. Seeing Bianca’s eyes go dark, feeling her pounding heart beat--it no longer makes her feel nervous. It no longer reminds her of pain. Instead, the butterflies in her chest are from excitement, the anticipation of what’s to come. What would happen if she lunged forward, pushed Bianca onto the table? It’s what she wanted all along--Bianca’s hair clutched in her fists, hips arching up to meet her. Courtney can’t help imagining how beautiful she’ll look when she’s glistening with sweat, trembling, mouth open in a silent cry.

Courtney was fine with the waiting, in theory. But now, it’s been almost a month and she’s wondering when the waiting will end. What she can do to make it end. She inches forward some more, fingertips resting lightly on Bianca’s shoulders.

The hair is standing up on the back of Bianca’s neck, and desire pools in her abdomen, so much it’s causing her physical pain. She clears her throat and takes a step backwards.

“You look good.”

“B…” Courtney’s voice is soft, pleading. She leans in, lips parted.

“I think I need a minute…” Bianca dashes from the room, and Courtney turns to watch her, brow furrowed, wondering what went wrong.

Bianca splashes her face with cold water. She does not want to be someone who makes their partner feel pressured to have sex. She was married to that person--the idea of making Courtney feel even a fraction of the anxiety she felt with Jared is unbearable.

But sometimes when they touch, Bianca can feel her resolve melting, feel her body betray her higher consciousness. And today, Courtney’s silky voice and warm skin are just too much. Maybe it’s the hormones rampaging through her body, but she feels closer than ever to losing control, lust threatening to overtake her completely. She doesn’t want to break her promise to wait, so her only choice in that moment was to remove herself from the situation.

She pats her face dry with a towel, breathing deeply, when a knock sounds on the door.

“It’s open.”

Courtney pushes the door in slightly.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Courtney nods, head against the door frame, eyes soft and achingly inviting. Bianca clears her throat, looking away.

“Don’t worry about the dress. I hung it up, safe and sound.”

“I wasn’t worried,” Bianca tells her.

“Liar,” Courtney says.

Bianca can’t help but chuckle at that. It’s a true testament to how emotionally volatile she feels that she hadn’t thought about the dress. Under normal circumstances, Courtney’s right--it would have been her first concern.

“Anyway, um…” Courtney hesitates, nails picking at a chip in the paint. “I was wondering if you maybe want to take the dogs for a walk? It’s a really nice day. We could take them to the beach...then swing by that new bougie ice cream place on Abbot Kinney on the way back…?”

“Wow, you know me.”

“Yeah.” Courtney smiles, and Bianca nods.

“Okay. Yeah, let’s do it.”

***

Bianca wishes that she were a better person. She wishes that she was brave enough to tell Courtney how she’s really feeling - the physical longing that seems to be clouding her judgment, the need just to be close to her, to feel the warmth of her skin, taste her. Or maybe, what she really wishes is that she had enough self control that it would be a non issue. That her patience with the pace of their relationship was deeper and that she didn’t feel tortured merely by knuckles brushing against hers in line at the ice cream shop. That she could enjoy a moment of light flirting without an irrepressible desire to grasp her by the wrist and throw her up against the counter. That she didn’t misconstrue every touch as an invitation, a dare.

Sitting at a little table outside, she avoids watching Courtney, unable to handle the way she twirls the cone on her tongue without filthy, sordid thoughts racing through her mind. She looks straight ahead, muscles tensing up when Courtney’s knee presses into her bare thigh.

“Is it good?” Courtney asks, gesturing to the salted peanut dark chocolate in Bianca’s hands. Trying and failing to catch her eye again. She wonders if she’s being too subtle - not a usual problem for her, but something isn’t connecting.

“Yeah…” It is good. And thank god. Because if she’s going to replace sex with food, it better be fucking delicious. Bianca tastes it again, adding, “...perfection.”

“Wow, high praise. I might have to call this a cheat day so I can taste it.” Courtney purses her lips in a sinful smirk, brow arched in a silent challenge.

“Go ahead. Cheat away,” Bianca murmurs as she holds out the cone.

Instead of taking it from her, Courtney guides Bianca’s hand closer to her mouth, licking slowly around the rim of the cone, eyes catching Bianca’s as she chases a drip down the side, taking Bianca’s thumb into her mouth. She traps it with her teeth, swirling her tongue around the tip as Bianca watches, slack-jawed and glassy eyed. Mesmerized by the whole performance, the heat of her mouth. Bianca feels her heart in her throat as Courtney finally releases her thumb, letting it slide slowly from her mouth, leaving a wet print on her bottom lip.

“Drips,” Courtney explains hoarsely, and it takes all of Bianca’s strength not to leap across the table right then and there.

Especially when Courtney goes back to her own cone, eyes still locked on Bianca’s, and it suddenly occurs to Bianca that her vulgar thoughts haven’t been an accident.

“Right,” Bianca breathes.

“Do you...wanna get out of here?” Courtney then asks, eyes raking over Bianca’s body in a way that makes her skin prickle.

It’s incredibly rare these days for Bianca not to finish her food, especially something as delicious as the melting ice cream in her hands. But she realizes that there’s only one thing she wants to taste right now, and it’s not something purchased from an artisan shop in Venice.

Bianca only nods, taking Courtney’s offered hand. She pulls her onto unsteady feet and wraps an arm around her. Every step along the way home, Bianca feels her heart beat faster. By the time they get through the door, she’s lightheaded, leaning on the wall for support while Courtney unhooks the dogs from their leashes.

Courtney straightens up, stepping closer to her. Her face is bathed in golden light from the setting sun. Green eyes looking almost amber as she slides her hands around Bianca’s waist. Bianca swallows hard, chest rising and falling rapidly, intoxicated by the space closing between them.

“You are...beautiful…” Courtney whispers.

A whimper has barely escaped Bianca’s lips before Courtney swallows it up with a kiss, pressing her against the wall, hands roaming over her body. Bianca deepens the kiss, tongue slipping into her mouth. When Courtney’s fingers brush up against her nipples, she lets out a low moan, wrapping a leg around her to pull her closer.

“You really that sensitive, baby?” Courtney smiles against her and pushes a thigh up between her legs.

“Uh huh…” Bianca’s hips are arching forward, rutting against her frantically. If she were capable of feeling any sort of shame right now, she might be embarrassed at what a mess she is, but her body is on auto, responding only to touch. Every coherent thought slips through her fingers like sand before it even has the chance to form.

Courtney lifts the cotton shift dress over her head and steps back, tossing the dress to the ground and taking her in.

She’d insisted about a hundred times over the past few weeks that Bianca’s body was exactly the same, but the truth is, Courtney can see the differences. Her breasts are fuller, belly just barely swollen, thighs thicker...and it’s all working. It’s like everything she was attracted to from the beginning has been exaggerated to a point that’s almost obscene--just curves for days, and Bianca’s heavy-lidded eyes giving her that signature smirk.

She feels a bit weird that she’s so into it, but when Bianca tangles into her hair and pulls her in for another heated kiss, the concern begins to dissolve. Her mouth trails down to Bianca’s jaw, tasting her hungrily. That’s when she realizes the true difference, the real change--unrestrained hunger now replaces the months and months of repression.

Bianca’s nipples are painfully hard against her lace bra, and when Courtney begins to toy with them again, she feels a rush of heat to her abdomen, throwing her head back with such force that she bangs it against the wall.

“Shit!”

“Are you okay?” Courtney cradles Bianca’s face in both of her hands.

“Yeah. I’m fine,” Bianca reassures her, laughing. She knows that she won’t be able to stay upright much longer, and musters up the strength to push Courtney down the hall to the bedroom, tearing her clothes off as they go. Even though she stumbles twice, she doesn’t let it slow her down.

Her head is spinning as they crash through the door onto the bed in a tangled heap. Bianca’s whole body is tense like a coiled spring, desire an urgent need as Courtney’s hands grip her waist, pull her closer.

She arches up, trembling, head tilting back as Courtney’s mouth finds her neck, murmuring softly against her skin. It takes Bianca a moment to realize that she’s asking a question.

“What?” Bianca’s mind is absolute mush. Her skin is burning, and Courtney’s hands are the only thing keeping her from bursting into flames.

“I just wanted to check, before we get too deep...um...is there anything I need to know?” Courtney finds her eyes, fingers pausing, hooked into the side of her panties.

“I...what?” Bianca repeats, panting.

“I mean...is there anything off limits? I don’t want to hurt you, or the baby.”

“No. No, everything is fine. Take them off,” Bianca orders impatiently, raising her hips to help speed things along.

Courtney complies, sliding her panties down her legs, which immediately fall open. Courtney kisses her, just below her belly button, and Bianca’s hips jolt upwards.

“You’re sure?” Courtney is just as anxious as Bianca for this to happen, but she knows that she’ll never be able to forgive herself if she does something to endanger the baby.

“Omigod, yes! As long as you’re not going in there with a wire hanger, we’re fine! Just…”

Courtney’s eyes widen, followed by a giggle, cheek pressed to Bianca’s belly. Realizing how utterly desperate she sounded, Bianca laughs too.

“Shit. Sorry.”

“Nothing to help the mood like a back-alley abortion reference,” Courtney chuckles.

“I really am sorry,” Bianca says, shaking her head with a self-deprecating groan. “I didn’t mean to rush you. I’ll be romantic, I swear.”

“Nahh,” Courtney flashes her a sunny smile. “Just be yourself.”

“Fuck you!” Bianca barks, taking the opportunity to unhook her bra and fling it aside, laying back and gazing at Courtney with a smug expression. “So, we doin’ this or what?”

“Your impatience is sexy,” Courtney says. She crawls forward, trailing her fingers up Bianca’s thigh, watching her face until she visibly shivers. She lowers her mouth to her hard nipple, licking her first with the tip of her tongue, then sucking hard, summoning a moan deep from Bianca’s throat.

Silky blonde hair is clutched in Bianca’s hands, knuckles turning white as Courtney continues to suck, circling the other nipple with her fingers. Bianca’s hips buck faster and faster in a desperate attempt for friction until she can’t take it anymore, a strangled sound coming from the back of her throat as the fingers circling her nipples start to pinch them, sending sparks through her body.

And then Courtney’s mouth is traveling lower, and Bianca bites her lip in anticipation, so hard she can taste blood. She waits breathlessly for Courtney to put her out of her misery, head thrown back, hands tangled into her hair. Finally, Courtney’s tongue rolls against her clit, and she lets out a moan of relief.

Courtney glances up, tongue circling her clit slowly, watching her fall apart. It’s shockingly fast, and seeing her so utterly needy is beautiful. She runs the back of her hand against her, and Bianca thrusts forward to grind against her knuckles.

Bianca flings a leg over Courtney’s shoulder, heel digging into her spine. Her hips jerk, body in overdrive, as Courtney continues to suck on her clit.

“Fuck, fuck!” Cursing soon turns to incoherent moans as she comes, writhing beneath Courtney’s hands, grinding against her tongue.

At first, Bianca is self-conscious about losing it so quickly, but the feeling soon evaporates, warmth spreading through her limbs as she sinks into the mattress.

Courtney trails soft kisses up her torso to her throat. And this is Bianca’s favorite part, the feel of her lips dancing over her skin. The warmth of her hands, wrapped around Bianca’s waist, sliding to her back. Bianca realizes how much she’s been craving this connection. This touch. A moan catches in her chest, coming out as almost a sob.

“Is something wrong?” Courtney asks, head lifting sharply, arms tightening around her.

Bianca says nothing, but pulls back to look at her. Her breath is shallow and she brushes Courtney’s hair back, hands resting on her cheeks. Her eyes are all over Courtney, as if she’s asking a question, silent and searching.

“Nothing’s wrong, I just...” she whispers, a thumb grazing Courtney’s bottom lip. She can’t put it into words, so she doesn’t. She places a kiss to the corner of her mouth, so light and so featherlike that it’s hardly even there.

Courtney’s heart smashes against her ribs when Bianca looks at her.

There’s something about the quiet that makes her feel unsure of herself, but Courtney can’t pull any quips or pleasantries from her brain. She’s so captured in this moment, so very present that she can’t think of anything other than the way Bianca looks under her, eyes glassy and lips parted. The way that she holds her from the bottom. Courtney realizes that it isn’t just a bed they’re sharing, and it scares her. Maybe scares her more than the idea of fucking it up. Because relationships ending, that’s familiar territory. But this...they’ve worked so hard for this. They’ve made the choice to lean into love, to trust each other completely, and now there’s no turning back.

A lump forms in Courtney’s throat as she tries to find words.

“B-“

She’s kissed quiet as Bianca sits up under them, raking her fingers up Courtney’s neck and into her hair. It’s not until they’re both gasping for air that Bianca finally breaks the kiss, stroking Courtney’s hair and gazing up into her eyes. There’s still something unresolved, something plaguing her, and Courtney waits anxiously to find out what that is. Finally, Bianca speaks.

“This is our first time,” she proclaims hoarsely, eyes misty. “Okay?”

Courtney caresses her cheek, nodding. There’s something so pure and innocent about Bianca’s simple solution for a fresh start, and it makes Courtney’s heart melt a little.

“Okay.”

Bianca’s eyes instantly glow brighter, dimples appearing under Courtney’s fingers. She raises her head again, finding Courtney’s lips and gently coaxing them open with her own.

There have been so many false starts. So many near misses. So many that Courtney has convinced herself that her fantasies are just that: a figment of her overactive imagination. But now, as everything falls into place, she finally allows herself to accept that it’s real. It’s real, and it’s happening, and it’s better than Courtney’s dared to dream it would be, even in her most ecstatic fantasies.

Feeling Bianca’s skin against hers, what strikes Courtney the most is how right it all feels. She’s so warm and soft, so responsive to every touch. Courtney parts her thighs, settling between them firmly. Her lips find the tenderest part of Bianca’s neck, sucking gently while she bears down against her.

Bianca thrusts up against her, clutching Courtney’s ass in her hands.

Courtney presses down harder, rocking against her, quickly finding the angle that makes her whimper breathlessly. “You like that?”

“Uh huh…” Bianca closes her eyes, succumbing to the gentle rhythm, the perfect pressure of Courtney rubbing against her clit. She knows that she’s embarrassingly wet, but can’t bring herself to care. “Jesus christ, fuck…”

Courtney’s been craving this contact for so long, and having Bianca fall apart in her arms makes it better than she anticipated. She’s on the brink herself when she sees Bianca start to unravel, feels the nails dig into her skin. It’s not going to take much for her to follow. She raises herself onto her elbows, hips rolling harder and slower now, Bianca’s moans the last thing to push her over the edge.

Waves of pleasure radiate through her body as her muscles strain, then turn to jelly.

“Oh god, fuck…keep going...please...”

It takes all the strength Courtney has not to simply melt into her once she comes, but she knows that Bianca wants more. So she reaches a hand down, wedging her fingers between their bodies to circle her swollen clit gently. A string of pained whimpers falls from Bianca’s lips as a reward, spurring her on. Bianca arches against her hand, clutching desperately at her arm. Courtney takes the hint and pushes the tip of a finger inside her.

“Is this okay?” she whispers, palm brushing against her wet, heated skin.

With a gasp and a nod, Bianca arches upward, uttering a strained, “More…”

Courtney can’t help but be impressed at Bianca’s appetite, thrilled by her endurance. She slides two fingers in, curling them just so, thumb still gently rubbing her clit.

“Oh god, don’t stop…” Bianca moans.

“I got you,” Courtney tells her. With her lips pressed to Bianca’s temple, she continues working her from the inside, speed increasing to match Bianca’s hips, ignoring the growing ache in her forearm.

“Court…” Bianca says, gripping her shoulder, body still moving at a frenzied pace.

“Yes?”

“I love you,” she says, in between breathless gasps.

“I know, baby.” Courtney can feel her trembling, and presses the heel of her hand against her. It’s enough to ground her for a moment, allowing her to take in a deep breath before letting go.

Bianca’s having an almost out-of-body experience. In this moment, the only thing she knows is Courtney: her sure hands and her tender words, making her feel both secure and precious. Guiding her through wave after wave until she’s so weak and dizzy that she can barely remember her name.

She shudders, her whole body feeling like a raw nerve. It’s almost painful when Courtney eases her slick fingers out, trailing them lightly up her body.

“Shit…” Bianca buries her face into Courtney’s hair, still breathless. “I really needed that.”

“You and me both.”

After a few moments, she blinks open her eyes just in time to see Courtney sucking her fingers into her mouth, punctuated by a naughty wink. She chuckles slightly and brings a hand up to Courtney’s face.

“So...then you’re glad we did it?” Bianca’s chest feels tight as she waits for Courtney’s answer.

“I’m always glad to have sex,” she says with another wink.

“Courtney-” In spite of Courtney’s playful, happy attitude, insecurity still gnaws at Bianca’s insides. She can’t help remembering the pain in her eyes when they spoke in Bob’s office. How knowing that she’d caused that pain made her hate herself more than she ever had.

“Yes.” Courtney presses a lingering kiss to Bianca’s forehead. “Yes, I’m glad. More than glad...it felt right. Didn’t it?”

“Even though Bob said to wait?”

“We did wait,” Courtney insists. She reaches up to run her finger along Bianca’s cheek.

“That’s true…” Bianca sighs, relieved, finally sure that they made the right decision. Especially when Courtney continues to caress her face, the gentle rhythm of her breathing changing ever so slightly as her heart picks up speed.

Bianca kisses her deeply, capturing her lower lip and tugging gently with her teeth. She hears the faintest whimper, and it empowers her to deepen the kiss, to pull her close. Slow, lazy kisses soon turn passionate, and then they’re rolling around on the bed again, unable to get enough of each other.

“I have a confession to make…” Bianca pants against her mouth.

“Yeah?” Courtney’s eyes open quickly, intrigued in spite of the slightly dizzy state she’s in.

“Mmhmm…” Bianca trails her lips along Courtney’s jaw. “When I was sleeping here alone...I may have sort of...snooped a little?”

One of Courtney’s eyebrows lifts, waiting for Bianca to explain further.

“I found your stash...” Bianca’s eyes shift down towards Courtney’s night table. That drawer full of toys, the one that’s been taunting her.

“Oh yeah?” Courtney bites her lip. “See anything you like?”

“Maybe?”

Courtney slides her hands into Bianca’s hair, tangling her fingers into her thick locks. She tugs gently, pulling her in closer. “Show me.”

A rush of butterflies fills Bianca’s belly. She smiles slightly, eyes boring into Courtney’s, before opening the drawer and pulling out a harness and smooth purple dildo.

“The big guns, huh?” Courtney heart pounds, reaching for the objects in Bianca’s hands. She begins to slip the harness on when Bianca stops her.

“I wanna wear it,” she says, gripping Courtney’s wrist and looking deep into her eyes.

Courtney’s mouth forms a surprised ‘oh,’ stomach dropping a bit.

“I mean, if that’s something you’d want.” Bianca clears her throat, eyes now lowering. Almost bashful.

“Um…it’s not really my...favorite thing?” Courtney feels a little bad. Bianca seems so enthusiastic, and she hates to be the one to burst her bubble. But she’s just never been into that kind of deep penetration.

“Shit.” Regret floods Bianca’s chest, burns on her cheeks. Of course it’s not her thing. She feels like an idiot for assuming otherwise. Her only defense is that her mind must be addled from a year of pent-up desires. “I just thought, cause it’s hands-free, that it would be...I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Courtney lifts her chin and places a soft kiss on her mouth. “I mean, I know that a lot of people like it. That’s why I have it. But I’ve just never really liked-”

“Right. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Courtney tells her.

Bianca groans, shaking her head. “I just hate that I killed the vibe.”

“No, you didn’t,” Courtney says, pushing her onto her back.

“Oh no? Then why are we talking and not fucking right now?” Bianca challenges.

Courtney giggles softly, hands sliding around her waist.

“Talking is a pretty important part of fucking,” Courtney murmurs. “How else do you know if you’re doing it right?”

It’s a fair question, one that catches Bianca off guard. She takes a moment to think before answering.

“Um...you’re supposed to have a psychic connection. You just...know,” Bianca says this with a hint of sarcasm, like she’s fooling around, but part of her might believe it. At this point, she’s not totally sure.

“Right.” Courtney nods. “Or, I could just shake you and see if answers appear like a magic 8-ball. That would probably be about as accurate.”

Bianca narrows her eyes. She can tell when she’s being mocked. And while she would like to object, she has to admit that Courtney makes a little sense. Plus, her green eyes sparkle with mischief, grasping Bianca’s shoulders as if she’s really going to try shaking her. So instead, Bianca just smirks up at her.

“Very funny.”

Courtney gives her a lopsided grin, lashes fluttering, and lays her head against the pillow.

“I just...wanna take care of you,” Bianca says. “I want to make you come.”

Courtney bites her lip. Her hands wander over Bianca’s body, dancing over her skin.

“You don’t need a dildo for that. Everything you need is right here.” Her knuckles brush against Bianca’s full, parted lips.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmhmm…so I’m just gonna put this little lady away for now…”

Courtney pushes the purple dildo back into the drawer, and Bianca takes her lapse in attention as an opportunity to throw her unceremoniously onto her back, earning a delighted shriek.

Courtney relaxes, fully surrendering to the moment as she lets Bianca take the reigns, surprised at how easily it’s happening. Bianca smiles again, victorious.

She’s hungry. She craves the taste of Courtney’s skin on her tongue. Kissing her over and over, deep and messy. Finally free to explore every inch of her, discover what makes her whimper and moan, what makes her arch and clench her fists and buck her hips. What makes her cry out and beg for more.

She’s between Courtney’s legs, fingers resting delicately on her knees. Holding her in place with the lightest pressure. Trailing butterfly kisses up her inner thighs until there’s a desperate tug at her hair.

“Please-” comes the choked whimper.

“Please what?” Bianca’s eyes glitter.

Courtney raises up onto her elbows, chest heaving, cheeks flushed a dark red. Bianca lays a cheek against her thigh, wondering how she’s so impossibly beautiful, why they’ve denied themselves so long.

“You’re sadistic…” Courtney’s playful tone betrays her words, fingers twirling in Bianca’s hair.

“Is that a problem?” Bianca nibbles on her tender skin, feels her tremble, muscles tightening. She knows that this isn’t quite fair, but she loves every reaction, every subtle shift in her body. She meets Courtney’s eyes again, leveling a challenging gaze at her.

A shiver runs through Courtney’s body as she tilts her head, trying to stop her hips from thrusting forward against her will.

“No. Do your worst.”

Bianca smiles, fully prepared to comply with this dare. She runs the tip of her tongue up Courtney’s thigh, then stops, moving to the other side, watching through a dark fringe of lashes as Courtney’s head falls backwards again.

She pushes against her knees, legs spreading more, watching her muscles tense and flutter. The scent is intoxicating as Bianca leans forward, breathing her in.

“Every part of you is so fucking beautiful,” Bianca says, as fingers tighten in her hair.

Courtney bites back another whimper, waiting in delicious agony, Bianca’s warm breath and the low vibrations of her voice all part of the torture.

After another tug to her hair, Bianca lets Courtney guide her head forward, exactly where she wants it, before pressing an open-mouthed kiss to her.

She arches up, Bianca’s name falling from her lips like a prayer, and all Bianca wants is to make her say it again, say it louder, never stop saying it. She swirls her tongue, relishing the taste of her. Loving the firm and gentle way she directs her with a fist wrapped in her hair.

“Higher, higher. Yeah, right there,” Courtney mumbles. “Now talk to me…”

“Talk to you?” Bianca lifts her eyes.

“Yeah like...talk into me,” Courtney explains breathlessly.

“Dirty talk?” Bianca asks.

“No. Just…” The right words are eluding Courtney at the moment, so she finishes with, “...Anything. Just speak against my pussy. Please.”

“Um…” Bianca leans forward again, racking her brain, lips brushing against Courtney’s clit. She’s drawing a total blank. Finally, something pops into her head. “I pledge allegiance to the cunt...”

Courtney lets out a noise in between an aggrieved sigh and a chuckle.

“Bianca!”

“You said anything,” Bianca points out.

“Maybe just...sing instead.”

“Sing?!”

“Yeah.” Courtney nods emphatically. “The alphabet song. Happy Birthday. Whatever. Just don’t make me laugh.”

“Mmm...okay.” Bianca pauses, then tries again. “Jesus loves me, this I know…”

Courtney starts giggling again, and Bianca raises her head.

“No good?”

“I’ll make it work. Keep going…” Courtney says, relaxing against the pillows, pressing the back of her head down.

Before she buries her face into her again, Bianca takes one moment for her eyes to meet Courtney’s, glittering mischievously.

“What can I say? I’m having a religious experience.”

“Tell it to my clit.”

Bianca bends down, humming slightly, feeling the muscles in her thighs flutter. Suddenly, she has no trouble finding words. A litany of praise tumbles from her mouth. She feels intoxicated by her scent, by the way she’s getting wetter and wetter. She gets bolder, flicking her tongue.

“Bianca, oh god,” Courtney moans.

Bianca’s licks get deeper, faster, lapping her up with such enthusiasm that Courtney can no longer hold it together. She arches upwards, crying out, toes curled. Hands tangled so deep into Bianca’s hair that she couldn’t remove them now if she wanted to. She feels her whole body shuddering with pleasure.

Finally, Courtney stops shaking to find Bianca sliding over her, pressing kisses along her jaw. A shiver runs through her, goosebumps prickling her skin under Bianca’s touch. The weight of her body bearing down is comforting, helping her breathing return to normal. When she finally rolls onto her back, Courtney immediately misses the warmth of her skin. She’s still too spent to move much, but she manages to find Bianca’s hand, clutch it to her chest. When she turns her head, she finds Bianca’s clear blue eyes looking back at her.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” Courtney answers, head tilted girlishly at her.

Bianca edges closer, licking her lips.

The room is quiet and still. The only thing Courtney hears is the dogs out in the hallway, nails skittering on the wood floors. It’s a perfect moment, everything Courtney’s wanted for so long. She brings Bianca’s hand to her lips and brushes a kiss against the inside of her wrist.

“So...that was fun,” Bianca whispers, rubbing a cheek against Courtney’s shoulder.

“I’ll say…” Courtney bites her lip, snuggling closer.

“Was it okay? You kinda threw me for a loop there.”

“Mmhmm. Better than okay. Much better.”

The dimples deepen in Bianca’s cheeks as she meets Courtney’s bright eyes.

“Yeah?

“Your amateur status is officially revoked,” Courtney says, pressing a soft kiss to her mouth.

A satisfied smile spreads across Bianca’s face. It seems like a shallow thing to be concerned with, but she can’t help it. She knows that her experience with women is limited, and knowing that she can please Courtney somehow makes her confidence go up exponentially. She sighs contentedly, limbs feeling relaxed and heavy…

“Shit!” Courtney suddenly says.

Bianca’s eyes fly open. “What?! What’s wrong?”

“I never made you dinner.”

Courtney looks so distressed that Bianca has to laugh.

“Honey. I can feed myself; I’m not a puppy. Shit!” Bianca sits up, realizing that the dogs haven’t been fed either.

“I’ll take care of them,” Courtney says, pulling on a jersey, clearly understanding exactly why Bianca is distressed. “You can relax.”

Bianca rubs her eyes, wondering for the millionth time how she will ever possibly deserve someone this generous, this loving. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. I’m just gonna heat up the leftover Thai. I can handle it.”

“I don’t know if the dogs like Thai,” Bianca jokes, and Courtney giggles, tossing her a kiss before sailing through the door. Bianca settles backwards.

***

Later, they snuggle in bed, empty take-out containers piled on the nightstand. Bianca’s arms are wrapped around Courtney from behind, face buried in the crook of her neck as Courtney plays gently with her fingers. Bianca breathes in her heavenly scent, sighing.

“Sometimes I wish I could just...make myself super tiny and live…” She kisses Courtney’s neck. “...right here…” After another kiss, she adds, “All the time.”

Courtney glances behind her, grinning.

“Sometimes I forget how weird you are.” She twists around in order to plant a kiss directly on Bianca’s mouth. “Don’t ever lose that.”

“...’Kay…” Bianca chuckles, head heavy on the pillow. She can feel her eyelids begin to droop, and she fights it, stifling a yawn.

“Are you sleepy?” Courtney kisses her nose sweetly.

“No.”

“Liar…” Courtney grins at her, a hand stroking her cheek.

“I don’t want tonight to end,” Bianca whispers.

“Yeah. I know.” Courtney presses a cheek against hers. She does know how Bianca feels. She feels it too, in a way. Afraid to break the spell. Knowing that tomorrow could very easily bring a whole host of problems and complications. Wanting to live in this warm bliss for as long as possible.

Instead of letting that fear take hold, she breathes into it, letting it wash over her and then fall away. After another deep breath, she suggests, “Maybe tomorrow will be even better.”

Bianca swallows, wrapping her arms tighter around Courtney’s waist.

“Maybe it will.”

#rpdr fanfiction #bianca del rio #courtney act #bitney #lesbian au #smut #fluff #angst #undone #stephanie #veronica #tw past emotional abuse #concrit welcome

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lacyjaybird · 5 years

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Out Of Breath

Since I've been gone for a while. I decided to commemorate my favorite holiday with a snippet from a fic I thought of a while ago. This is only a flashback. There is more, depending on how this takes off.

@keichanz 👀👀

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They met in Junior High when he moved to Tokyo to live with his older brother. He liked to take pictures of things, because pictures didn’t leave. But he didn’t like to talk about that. She was on the swim club and was the first person to actually talk to him once class ended. Kagome Higurashi, was her name. Her hair was an inky black, her eyes a deep chestnut brown, and her scent was reminiscent of fresh sunshine, clean linen, and wildflowers. Those were some of the first things Inuyasha noticed about her.

She became one of the most important people in his life in a matter of months. His safe haven away from the cold and unfeeling walls of the large and empty home he shared with his emotionally distant brother. She even encouraged him to pursue photography and join their schools club, something he never would have done on his own. Suddenly she became the subject of many of his photos. Not in a strange way, but in a way that someone documents their life. She was always there. It was only natural.

Many nights they studied at her families shinto shrine, beneath the shade of the Goshinboku tree. Her mother would always ask him to stay for dinner and he never had the heart to refuse her warm smile. Spending after dinner in her room talking about the future and what anime they wanted to watch. She wanted to be a Marine Biologist and scuba dive around the world, collecting data on all sorts of tropical fish and mammals. He always said he didn't give a fuck about his future, always making her hit him out of frustration. And that wasn’t all a lie. As long as she was in it, he really didn't care about what he did or where he was. He knew that it would be worth it.

Angry Kagome was his favorite thing to photograph and she hated it.

Luck and all the Kami were on his side when they were placed in the same high school.

Evenings found the young ivory haired hanyou in the pool building when he wasn't at photography club, watching as his friend worked on her breast stroke, attempting to shorten her lap time. He tended to get plenty of candid shots of her. His favorite was when she would make faces at him from the water, those always developed nicely. Many of his shots ended up becoming promotional images for the team… something he never intended, but once Kagome saw the shots of them diving and her teammates breaching the water, she ran to the coach to show off his work.

Inuyasha was red for the following three practices.

Sometimes he would “tea party” with her, sinking to the bottom of the pool and seeing who could hold their breath the longest. Those occurrences were rare, seeing as though he wasn't fond of water getting in his ears. But if ever she asked, he was sure to oblige.

He always thought she was the most beautiful in the water. Like she should have been born with fins instead of legs. When they would sit in the crystal clear of the pool, her hair would float above and around her like an oil spill, where his contrasting white was barely long enough to enter his field of vision. They would have wordless conversations under the water, sometimes she would go there when she was upset and let out whatever emotion she needed.

It was near the end of second term of their 10th grade year when he smelled a sickness beginning inside of her. It seemed to begin with her swimming. He watched from the bleachers, his gameboy in hand, as she would surface, pulling her goggles away from her eyes one particularly stressful workout day.

His hyper sensitive canine hearing tuned into her, and would hear the rattle as she took in seemingly useless breaths. Her coach assisted her from the pool and helped her calm down.

Things seemed to get worse from there.

The holidays brought cold weather and an occasional cough. He slowed up his pace often for her so he wouldn't have to hear the shake in her chest as she jogged to match his longer strides brought on by his near 3 inch growth spurt.

She would get mad at his fretting as he wrapped her in thick jackets and scarves when they went out to hang out with friends. “You always bitch about the cold anyway. Better to wrap you up now so i don't gotta hear it later. Cause i sure as fuck aint givin’ you my jacket.”

The warmer she was, the less she struggled, it seamed. So he made sure she wore a face mask on the subway as well. Couldn't be too safe. Her smell only got worse as the months ticked by.

He fiddled with the film speed crank on his camera, twisting the tiny knob back and forth, as he watched her coach frown at the stop watch the spring term of their 11th grade year.

As the young 16 year old girl breached the surface, her breath coming in audible rasp, her coach kneeled down to her level and showed her the stop watch.

The hanyou listened as Kagome was told to call her mother and to schedule a doctor's appointment. He heard the words “consistently low times” and “exhaustion”. And he also heard the shattering statement, “ I’m sorry, Kagome. But we can’t keep you on the team. We begin relay soon, and we need your spot to be filled with someone who is healthy. You can still come swim any time you want.”

They stayed until the room cleared. He didn't even have to ask before he set his camera in his bag and stripped off his clothes down to the swim jammer he had bought specifically to wear under his clothes in case she wanted him to swim on practice days.

Usually she waited for him before she went under. But that day, as soon as the last person left them, she threw her goggles and swim cap to the side and submerged herself. He eased in the water, letting out enough air to sink, and met her at the bottom.

That was the first time he watched the weight of the circumstances show on her. Her face showed nothing but heartbreak as her eyes squeezed shut, her fist clenched in the chest of her one piece so tightly he could see her knuckles turning white from the 5 foot of distance between them, even in the water. Her eyebrows were pinched together and raised almost desperately. “What are you thinking?” he asked himself, helpless to do anything but sit with her as he listened to the muffled noises that water brought, her desperate throat noises as she internally struggles. Finally, after her features softened, she opened her eyes to him and there was a moment of understanding between them.

That was the last time they would be able to do this together.

Standing up on the pool floor, Inuyasha reached over and took her smaller frame in his arms and pushed off, sending them surfaceward.

Once there, he placed her poolside.

They left shortly afterwards. No silly pictures, no laughter or playful insults. None of the usual light hearted ease they kept with one another. Instead they walked together, not speaking of the broken heart bleeding between them. They would deal with her in their own way.

#an old wip #but i like it #inuyasha #kagome #inukag #inuyasha fanfiction #out of breath au

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lovemesomesurveys · 4 years

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What Rhymes With “ATE”?

1. What’s the last thing you ate? Ramen.

2. Do you have a gate to your backyard? Yeah.

3. Who’s your best mate? My mom.

4. How often do you mate? Have sex? Never have.

5. What would you use as bait on a fishing hook? I wouldn’t even go fishing let’s be real, but fine if I did I’d use worms or whatever I guess alkjfklfjklf. I wouldn’t be the one to put it on, though!

6. What do you bate your breath with? Any anxious situation.

7. What’s the last thing you got in a crate? I don’t get things in crates.

8. When’s the last time you went on a date? Where did you go? Almost 5 years ago. It was a cute coffee and bookstore date with Ty. That was our favorite thing to do.

9. Do you believe in fate? No.

10. Have you ever seen a freight train in person before? Yeah.

11. Do you like grated cheese? Yesss.

12. Do you have an awkward gait? As a paraplegic, no I do not. Everything else about me is awkward, though.

13. When’s the last time you truly felt great? When I was a kid.

14. Who do you hate? Besides myself, no one.

15. Do you know of anyone named Kate or Nate? No.

16. When’s the last time you were late for something? I don’t recall. I’m big on being punctual.

17. Do you know how to plait hair? I haven’t heard it called that, but yes.

18. Do you have a favorite plate? Paper plates, ha.

19. Would rather ice skate or roller skate? I can’t do either one.

20. How would you rate this survey so far? I’ve enjoyed all your surveys!

21. Do you ever just wish for a clean slate? Yesssss.

22. What state do you live in? (if you’re American) California.

23. What is your current state of mind? Blah.

24. Are you straight? Yes.

25. Are you straight-laced? Straight-edged? No, because apparently you can’t have caffeine or narcotics to be considered straightedge, both of which I have.

26. Have you ever visited a strait? No.

27. What’s your best personality trait? Sense of humor.

28. How long will you wait for someone/something? I don’t know?

29. What is your weight? I’m not exactly sure, but I think mid to low 70lbs.

30. Are you awaiting anything special? No.

31. Do you berate anyone? Nooo.

32. Is there anyone you’d like to castrate? Uh, no!

33. Are you a cheapskate? Lol I have my moments, but I also can overspend. Just depends, really.

34. When was the last time you collated papers? I don’t recall.

35. Last thing you created? Uhhh.

36. What was your last debate about? I really try and avoid those.

37. Last time you inflated something? Or deflated? I don’t recall.

38. Do you dictate what other people can do? No.

39. Have your pupils ever dilated before? When I go to the eye doctor.

40. When’s the last time you donated something? A few months ago when I got rid of some clothes.

41. The last time you felt elated? My Disneyland trip earlier this year.

42. Have you ever been to an estate sale? No.

43. What are you fixated on? Health related stuff.

44. How often do your floodgates open? I cry often.

45. Last thing you equated? Hmm.

46. Last time you felt frustrated? The last few days. I feel that way quite often.

47. Do you remember to stay hydrated? Yeah.

48. Do you live upstate? No.

49. How often do you post status updates? I very rarely post status updates on Facebook anymore, I just share things now and then. I tweet a lot, though.

50. How often do you use Google Translate? Not often, but sometimes. I actually did a couple days ago.

51. Who is a classmate that you are still friends with?

52. Have you ever had a teammate before? No.

53. Have you ever tailgated? No.

54. Have you ever reached a stalemate? That’s how I’ve felt the past few years.

55. Have you ever been sedated? Yeah, several times.

56. Do you rotate your mattress? No.

57. Last time you got a rebate? It’s been awhile, but I used to use Ebates (called Rakuten now). I keep forgetting to use it for some reason, which is dumb.

58. Have you ever felt like you could relate to someone? Yeah, many times.

59. Favorite primate? I don’t have one.

60. Do you have something ornate? Uhh. I don’t really have anything fancy.

61. Has an action ever negated the effect of your efforts? Yes.

62. Could you be described as a lightweight? Ha, yeah. For sure.

63. Would you like to visit Kuwait? I haven’t thought about it.

64. Last person that gyrated near you? No one.

65. Do you know someone who is irate or innate? Hmm.

66. Do you know of any inmates? Yes.

67. How long does it take you to acclimate? I struggle with change.

68. Last time you activated something? Not too long ago.

69. What do you advocate for? Stuff.

70. Last time you felt agitated or aggravated? Recently.

71. Last time you had to annotate something? Recently during my Bible study.

72. Have you ever felt alienated before? Yes.

73. What was the last caffeinated beverage you consumed? Starbucks Doubleshot energy drink.

74. Do you like carbonated drinks? Yeah.

75. What captivates you? Staring out at the ocean and listening to the waves crash in and out.

76. What do you allocate a lot of your hours towards? Watching YouTube videos and checking my social medias.

77. Last event you celebrated? 4th of July. Well, we just went out and watched fireworks from the driveway.

78. Last time you were compensated for something? I don’t recall.

79. Do you tend to make things complicated? Yepppp. :/ “Why you gotta go and make things so complicated?”

80. Do you find it hard to concentrate at times? Yes.

81. Have you ever had anything confiscated? No.

82. Last place you congregated at? I haven’t been around a large crowd of people since my Disneyland trip earlier this year. I won’t be again for a very long time given the current state of things.

83. How long are you with someone before you consummate the relationship? I’m a virgin.

84. Last time you had to conjugate a verb? I did that recently when I was helping my mom with her Duolingo Spanish lesson. It amazes me how much I still remember considering I haven’t taken a Spanish class or even really practiced it in almost 10 years. :O I mean, I’ll occasionally try and speak it or if I hear or see it somewhere I’ll try to translate it, but it’s not very often, so I’m surprised I’m still able to at all.

85. Last time you were constipated? I don’t recall.

86. How often do you contemplate life? Often.

87. Are you hard to cooperate with? No, I don’t think so.

88. Do you know anyone who cultivates land? No.

89. Would you want to be cremated? Yes.

90. Do you have any issues with your prostate? I don’t have a prostate.

91. Have you ever decimated someone’s character before? No.

92. Do you decorate your home for the holidays? Yesss. Well, for Christmas. I used to for Halloween, but I haven’t the past few years. I should do that this year.

93. Who would you dedicate a book you wrote to? My mom.

94. Are you good at delegating group projects? I felt like I always had to take lead in group projects and make sure everything was getting done. I hated doing them, they stressed me out even more.

95. Do you know how to demonstrate things in order to show someone how to do something? I do feel like I suck at trying to explain things to others for the most part, but I guess it depends on the thing.

96. In what ways do you deviate from “the norm”? I’m soon to be 31 years old and I still live at home with my parents, with no plans to move out anytime soon. I don’t have a job. I don’t have much, basically none, relationship experience. I’m a virgin. I’m just not a functioning adult.

97. How long after you take a painkiller does the pain start to dissipate? It typically takes about 30 minutes, but on really bad pain/flare up days it can take an hour or so and sometimes not until I have the next dose.

98. Do you feel the need to dominate in conversations? Nooo. I’m much more of a listener and I’ll throw the convo back to the other person.

99. Would you ever domesticate a wild animal? Why or why not? No.

100. Who is the last person you congratulated? For what? I don’t remember.

101. Would you like to decapitate anyone? Who, and why? Uh, no!

102. Do you ever think that you could duplicate something you’ve tried before? Uhh, like what?

103. What do you feel you could educate others about? I don’t know. Remember before how I said I suck at explaining things to others?

104. What elevates your stress level? My heath, my life (including things related to my loved ones in my life, such as their health issues and things they’re dealing with/going through), and just...life in general, man. There’s a lot going on this year alone.

105. Do you have a tendency to make situations escalate? In my mind cause I jump to the worst conclusions. My natural reaction is to freak out.

106. How good are you at estimating? Uhh, depends what I’m estimating.

107. Do you fabricate your stories? No.

108. What is something that fascinates you? Psychology.

109. How long does it take you to formulate a game plan? Hmm. Depends.

110. What tends to make your blood pressure fluctuate? Stress and anxiety.

111. How do you generate enough energy to get through your day? What energy? I’m seriously lacking.

112. When did you graduate? I graduated UC back in 2015.

113. When you’re in a department store, which section do you gravitate towards most often? The clothes.

114. How often do you hesitate before doing or saying something? Often.

115. Do you ever wish that you could just hibernate? Yes.

116. Does anyone try to imitate you? Does it get on your nerves? No, but that would most definitely get on my nerves.

117. Do you like to instigate others? Nooo. I’m not an instigator.

118. Could you illustrate a children’s book? I couldn’t illustrate anything, I’m an artist at all.

119. Do you marinate your meats? I don’t cook.

120. Do you masturbate? No. What a way to end, ha.

[a-zebra-is-a-striped-horse]

#personal #text #survey #surveys #long survey

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itsthatsillygoose · 5 years

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Kit, a raggedy ass analysis

I wrote an analysis of forthbeam last week and y'all we're dragging the others to hell saying they weren't as complex so let me prove you wrong starting with Kit ft. a lot of Ming. If u want my summery Mingkit analysis it's the last paragraph on this post but I'll post it separately too:

Something that really intrigues me about kit is his capacity for other people’s attention. We see through out the first series that Beam is quite a ladies man and is seen many times trying to hit on the stars of the university but for Kit this is rare. Aside from Pha, Beam and Forth, Kit is rarely seen interacting with anyone one else closely and think that speaks volumes of his personality. He may be stubborn and sometimes aggressive but I think deep down he's compensating for a lack of security, all he really wants is that resounding feeling of safety and he finds that with in the tight knit friendship between him, Beam and Pha; and perhaps that’s what makes his relationship with Ming so infatuating.

Ming is the very definition of what Kit seems to avoid, he is bold and loud, clumsy with his feelings, a stranger. He's a player and doesn't need that sense of security like the other which seemed to be the biggest red flag to kit during their development. Imediately when the two first properly meet there’s a sense of surprise from the shorter when he finds that Ming still remembers him, and straight away he throws up his guard. Through out at least the series so far it's almost like Kit wants himself to hate Ming or at least he feels like he should; he knows Ming is everything he seeks to avoid and so he tries to act accordingly. He constantly seems frustrated around him but rather than being agitated by Ming, I think what's really bothering him is himself and the way he can't help but yearn for these moments of having the other around. Doesn't make sence right? Surely he'd be happy if he actually wanted to see him? Well you'd figure, but perhaps it causes Kit such anguish as he knows while having Ming around he loses control and he doesnt want to give him self the oppertunity to get to know him or like him as even just a friend,,, and so instead he snaps at him. Again I think this was a really subtle and lovely way of displaying Kits issue; he truly is an increadible example of head vs heart.

I loved looking deeper into these two as they appear to have such a typical dynamic of cat and dog, but I really think the second series explored so much deeper into their personalities and character. I think what is really being portreyed by these two is so much more than just a spunky journey of two boys in love. Really I think that we delve into dealing with the concept of searching for trust and a sense of clarity in not only someone else but yourself too. I do think that kit is perhaps the “protagonist’ of this idea. Ming is very much the big scary monster in the dark for him. Whether Kit had had partners before or not I'm unsure but I think the reason why Ming really affected him so incredibly was that he’d never been loved in such a way, so shamelessly and intensely, especially by someone like Ming. Someone he’s so unalike in so many ways. Really I think their arch isn’t about Ming breaking into Kit's abrasive character but rather Kit searching for truth and a reason to believe in ming and the insecurities on both ends of that.

We see many times that kit is appalled by Mings ways, for example the way ming had so many ex partners, this was such a big piece information to just be brushed over; infact its exactly what knocked kit so far from feeling like he could reach out and grasp onto Ming. Again referring back to before, I think kit really yearns for a sence of safety in everyone he brings close to him, a place to relax, someone he can trust enough to not hide behind his front; he doesn’t care to be played with or used so seeing that ming would throw away his past relationships so readily perhaps triggered that insecurity as he rightly so doesn't feel that sense of security with ming. He appears unpredictable to Kit, almost as if he throws his feeling around carelessly, but we know this isn't true and that in fact Ming is increadibly predictable.

We see more of this when Kit storms away at the beach telling ming to stay where he is (which he does). Personally this is still one of my favourite scenes as it's fucking bursting with emotion and crammed with developing concepts i've already mentioned but it really does just get me every time. There's so much to unpick, it really was the turning point for the two- at least in my eyes. It admittedly does just appear as if Kit got short tempered and barked at Ming who then got upset and sulked, but really the scene is a lot meatier. It was really a big eye opener for kit as though neither of them spoke about what happened, it really felt like they both knew Ming was proving to kit that he takes his word seriously, and isn't afraid to commit to him. Kit seemed guilty when the scene returned to him and the others drinking but when Ming was dragged in by another friend Kit seems shocked realizing he probably would have sat there all night if it had played out that way. Maybe he assumed ming had gone back to his room but the fact he didnt was such a slap in the face. I love this cause Ming stares at him sadly, knowing full well he's proven a point. Kit knows he's upset Ming and realises that rather than Ming not taking the idea of a relationship seriously, perhaps he himself was the one dismissing any chance of something real, some clarity. Maybe he was his own scary monster in the dark. He knows full well that Ming is harmless or else he wouldn't have appeared so guilty when returning to the hang out without him.

The whole beamkit scene where beam pulled a doozy on us and pretended he and kit were dating is another obvious telling of his character, (nines expressions in those few seconds were fucking ace btw, the absolute utter panic swirling into sorry eyes, then a punch in the gut and finally regret) in those few moments alone its obvious that he knows he's done Ming wrong, but if you really look closer there's a whole ugly ass betrayal hiding in there. In the chat they just had in a prior scene, Kit makes a point out of not wanting to get hurt by Ming leading him on only to ditch him for another person, but what did kit just do to Ming? Huh?¿?? Exactly, its easily missed but it's an awesome detail i picked up when diving into this and i have to say it was another perfect example of Kit being flung between head vs heart. Kit's been trying so hard to get Ming to use his head rather than his heart, but by using his own head to try and protect him self Kit's only gone and done the exact thing he was so afraid happening to himself to Ming. I think realising this he understands that even though they're so different and worlds apart, they're both just dumb fucking humans and he shouldnt be so hard on Ming, especially when Ming's been nothing but loyal and honest. Perhaps Kit is scared of committing but he's projecting that onto Ming because he doesn't want to admit it, he only sees what he wants to see because thats all he knows after putting up a front for so long when ever his emotional well being is threatened.

Honestly Kit's really just been his own problem this entire show and he really ought to sit the fuck down and let him self live 👏🏻

Thought it was endearing when he took Pha out so he could get drunk. Obviously getting wasted to forget your problems isn't particularly endearing, but like i said about Beam last week, it makes him feel more human. Especially when Beam shows up acting like the whole beamkit couple thing was a joke (when it clearly wasn't) and Kit's just like fuck you you're so annoying. Smh he really is boo boo that fool. He's just so completey oblivious that his best friend in the entire world is head over heels in love with him, so gullible just believing what ever the fuck anyone says. I'll give him the benefit of the doubt seen as he was drunk but Idk it just tickles me that he's always so tense and always so on guard yet the level of dumbassery is just,,,, how's he gonna be a doctor when he's literally a raw nerve on fucking legs. Bless.

He really lets things bother him, but he's much more readable than beam which we know even just from Phana knowing right away what was up. The fact he hid from Ming when Ming entered the bar(?) too really emphasized how completely not as hard as nails he is despite how he tends to act tough. Thought that was a sweet detail in unravelling Kit's personality and how Ming seems already to have completely knocked his walls down; Kit's not even trying to act like he's unaffected anymore.

We all joke about Beam being an emotional wreck but fr kits really not that far behind. He deals with everything horribly and always seems to make shit worse for both himself and Ming. He just wants what's best for everyone but sometimes that's harder than it looks and he really proved that. He goes into panic mode if Ming so much as breaths in his direction which actually does the complete opposite of intended as rather than seeming tough and cold, it just shows Ming that Kit's easily flustered around him, EG, HE FUCKING LIKES HIM, KIT JUST WRITE IT ON YOUR FOREHEAD AT THIS POINT. He thinks he's so mysterious fr, boy the whole world and it's goldfish has you sussed, who do you think your fooling with that attitude?

Can't not mention the kiss and how sweet that was on Kit's end. After all that mess and acting unaffected, as soon as he sees Ming move towards him he imediately melts back into his big softie boyf as if he'd been waiting a life time to kiss him. He literally called him a 'bastard' seconds before, if that ain't some sort of chaotic then what the fuck is he. Jkjk, back to the point, Kit does this thing where he lies to him self, C O N S T A N T L Y. He's forever telling himself that he's in control, he's forever telling himself that Ming's out to get him, he's forever acting as if he doesn't want anything to do with Ming, but this scene was so satisfying cause it really just ripped everything he'd been pretending to be from right underneath him. He kissed Ming so readily and for the first time in the relationship he actually seemed put together and calm and in control. He's never known what to do with Ming's attention yet here and now with his lips on his all he could do was reach out and grasp on to his 'scary monster in the dark' (Side note i absolutely fucking adore how Kit's gone from being so rough and brash with Ming to being so ridiculously shy after the kiss. I think it's forced him to face facts and he finally realised there was no point in keeping up his walls. Ming knows now, theres no need. It's sweet showing his vulnerable side for once, this is some healthy character development i can get behind.)

You'll have noticed this gradually got less formal and is slowly making less and less sense. That's because as i'm writing this it's 5:40am and the brain juice is running low but the next bit should be a pinch more coherent sorry,

What i love about Kit and Ming's relationship is the whole role reverse as the series progressed. At the beginning we see Kit, part of a solid group of friends and he's comfortable and confident where as Ming's just a new student at the university, finding his feet. We expect him to perhaps be naïve or immature, and yes he's a little clingy but really Ming is one of the most stable characters going and exactly what kit needs despite how he first appeared. Not once has Ming changed his goal of pursuing kit, not once has he fucked up, not once has he ever panicked. Ming- even though he's sulky- is really quite mature with his dealing of Kit. He's honest and really does what ever he can to make it work. I loved the example of this where he backed off after the kiss. It was so so sweet considering how clingy he usually is, and it really shows he takes great time and contemplation when considering Kits feelings and that he has a really deep understanding of how Kit's mind actually works and how he may react. He backs off knowing Kit likes his space and that maybe he over stepped the line pretending to be black out drunk, but again i really love this as this creates that safe space and feeling of clarity that i keep bringing up as it meant kit could reach out in his own time and really come to terms with things without any pressure. It meant that for once Kit would have to make the move to communicate and take a step in their relationship and i think for Ming to take that initiative to really somewhat place their fate in Kits hands for a while was really quite sweet and mature of him. We stan our emotionally healthy engineering boys fr. We come to realise by now that perhaps Kit is actually quite bashful and somewhat of a baby dear when it comes to emotions, charging head first into anything but initially losing his footing right off the get go. But Ming is stable, he is collected and cool and surprisingly gentle. Its really quite tell tale that kit spoke so much about ming maybe lacking in commitment when really he was the one too afraid to commit, he was clearly insecure. This arch really was kit heavy and though i already said what i think their arch focuses on, i just want to add that it also explores growth and becoming a better person because of a relationship. They bounce off eachother in such an interesting way, and so intunely that they cant help but work. Kit never knows what to say or how to approach ming but its okay, Ming has that covered and always comes to find him. Ming's very flirtatious, and kit and easy to fluster. Kit needs time and Ming is patient. All these little north and south traits really just pull together and i love how these two were written with such harmony. I know I've delved way deeper than was ever intended for these characters but i think we shouldn't take for granted the complexity of such a wonderful thing.

This is the reason why i think 2moons2 is miles ahead of 2moons the series. Aside from the cringe music, over dramatic zooms and lingering shots which can sometimes make it difficult to watch, 2moons2 really seeks complexity in each character and i admire that itch to bring them to life as i feel 2moons was increadibly 2D in this aspect. I only really believed in Kit when i watched that series, but 2moons2 really forces you to believe and invest in every main character and i just think as someone who writes that it's rather lovely.

What are your thoughts? Do comment if you have time, I'd love to hear more on these two :)

#2moons2 #2moons2 the series #2moons #2moons the series #2 moons 2 #pha #phana x wayo #phana #phayo #wayo #mingkwan #mingkit #ming #kitkat #kit #forthbeam #forth #beam

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