#anyways thanks for all the notes on the last post with them!! i normally expect ocs n stuff to get like 15 notes at the most so | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ilycorisradiata · 2 years

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Itto x trans male reader (has had top surgery, T but not bottom surgery), basically theyre in a hotspring at night and itto sees readers chest scars and asks about them, and reader tells itto hes trans. Reader gets up to go do something after talking for w him for a bit but slips and falls right on top of ittos lap, oni dick between the thighs, and yeah sexy time 🌭 basically from fluff to nsfw cuz i just roll like that. Anyways love u and ur writing!!

heat

ಌ heat: itto x transmasc!reader

ಌ theme: after explaining your chest scars to him, you slip and fall right into his oni trap !

ಌ cw: 18+ NSFW, transmasc reader, no pronouns used just gendered terms!, clit referred to as a cock, fluff to smut, (semi-public sex) hot spring sexy time yeaahhh, no thoughts only itto oni cock, itto is very nice (and shy) at first then he goes feral hehe, size difference, reverse cowgirl position, fingering (reader receiving), slight hint at belly bulge? not sure?, do not dirty the water just cum inside!, (enough of the funky cw), solo read + solo edited, cross-posted on AO3

ಌ wc: 3.1k

ಌ notes: hello anon! this was just pure porn… but you guys probably want that, right? who wouldn’t, especially with itto!! thank you for the ask ! :D

It had been a long day of running around, doing commissions, and bumping into random enemies along the way. To say you were tired was an understatement. You were so sure you could sleep for a whole decade, and the aches you were experiencing were horrible, all you could think about was stepping into the hot springs for a soak. It was night time by the time you were finished, and you knew the public baths would be empty. This would be the safest time to go… Especially with no disturbances. No questions, no one to bug you. You could comfortably be there and relax, as it’s intended purpose.

By the time you had soaked for no longer than 5 minutes, you heard heavy footsteps from within the wash and changing area. Wishing you could sigh out loud, you peek with one eye, head hung low to see who it was stepping in. At this hour, especially at an hour that is normally dead, you really wished nobody would come. Of course, it turned out to be someone you enjoyed the company of. A certain Oni came strutting in, hair slicked back from the pre-wash and a towel hung low on his hips, he beamed when he realised it was you. A bright smile. Blindingly cheerful for this time of the night, you sigh with a smile.

“Yo! I didn’t expect you to be here, Y/N.” With a small wave, he steps politely, despite his size, into the bath not far from you. You had to look away, his towel riding up a little too far for your liking and it exposing everything. Coughing, you return the comment back, not exactly expecting anyone to be here. He was beaming at you, eyes like crescents, happy that he was able to run into you albeit the hot springs of all places. A lot of idle chat went on, with you explaining what you had been up to since you both last spoke. Everything he spoke of was just pure mischief. Per usual. Of course, the ‘one and oni’ Arataki Itto was causing bother, but that’s to be expected. He did help a lot, and he was amazing to be around, but he did cause a lot of trouble along the way. You’d laugh at all the stories he had to tell, especially the ones about his own drumming event he held not too long ago. Speaking of how he managed to get the Ms. Hina cardboard cutout (he stole it), and how he has been treasuring it since. He didn’t seem to miss a beat when speaking with you, always fired up but always respectful to how tired you looked. The water would wave every now and then, when he flailed his arms excitedly before apologising, as well as giving off that bright laugh of his.

“I’m curious… What are those scars under your pecs? They look badass! You get ‘em from fighting something here? Or didya fight something in Liyue… Or, OR… That giant worm thing down in that chasm perhaps?!” He was genuinely intrigued and excited about where you’d gotten the scars, so it didn’t bother you that he was asking. This was the first time he had seen you, well, naked. And for that matter… Topless. You never took any of this off, in fear of a bigot realising and the conversation going south. However, you knew it was fine to tell Itto this information, and even explain it if you had to. So, you chuckle at him in response.

“No, Itto… They aren’t those type of scars.”

“If they aren’t from battling… Then are they surgical scars? You got a dodgy lung or somethin’?? Smoking is bad, yknow! You really gotta look after yourself in this day and age, gotta keep yourself healthy, what with all them bad guys out there.” You laugh, maybe a little too loudly, from his rambling and worries. You were happy he was so concerned; happy he was worrying in case they were from something bad. These scars were life saving at least, in a way, something that was part of your identity. You calm yourself down from your laughing fit, wiping your eye from a stray tear, turning yourself fully towards him.

“Uhhh no, I don’t smoke. You’re right about them being surgical scars, but it’s because I’m… I’m transgender, Itto.” He smacked a closed fist into the palm of his other hand, his mouth forming an ‘o’ shape before smiling from ear to ear, a tint of red dancing across his cheeks.

“I heard about this kind of thing from Gorou! They’re really cool scars to have man, but I also found out you gotta be careful with those in the sun, make sure you put that ointment stuff on them, or you’ll get bad burns, y’get me?” Grinning back at him, you knew he’d have a good reaction to it all… He took it better than some other people you know. Itto wasn’t stupid, some would call him a himbo, but in situations like these he was 100% not one. He had a far greater sense of empathy for others. He’s headstrong and kind, willing to understand the things he’d never heard of before and love his friends all the same despite the differences. After all, he was the biggest difference in comparison to a lot of your friends, and the biggest to be shunned for being different. It would be a little weird of him not to accept those outside of what was considered “normal”. You thank Gorou for having this type of talk with him, and you guess the reasoning was because you came up in conversation between the two. He spoke about a lot more, mostly random things he plans this week or some things that were just random to keep the conversation going.

Itto used his arms and hands to emphasise his words a lot, and this did not help your drifting attention from his words to his arms, or muscles. He was explaining an explosion that had happened once, or you assumed that’s what he was going on about from the sound effects coming from his mouth, and you couldn’t help but gawk at him whenever his arms flexed, especially with the way his muscles would ripple now and again. You couldn’t tear your eyes away. Having always observed other guys to see how they presented themselves, just so you could replicate, but in comparison to them all… Itto was truly on a whole other level. You felt like you were looking at some Greek statue, the pure definition in his muscles and especially the peeking view of his deep-set v-line downwards was remarkable. This began one thought after another about other areas of his physique, especially where else his red markings went. Eyes travelling lower than you’d have liked, you shook your head, snapping yourself out of it. Itto questioned if you were alright, with a slight smirk on his lips. You don’t know if he caught you, but even if he had, you decided to lie. Lying by saying you needed to get out of the hot springs, that you were starting to feel really dizzy. Itto went to stand to help you out, but you ended up slipping, taking him back down with you. Panicked, you landed slightly into his lap, and he held you by the waist to make sure you didn’t slip any further and hurt yourself. If what you were doing before was gawking, then you hadn’t a word for what you were doing now. His large hands were massive in comparison to, well, everywhere. Whilst you were panicking internally, whilst also thanking the gods for never actually giving you the gender you were in your head (because you would be bricked up badly right now), Itto was too busy asking if you were okay.

Okay was far from it. You had felt it. It, aka his fucking monster of a third leg, was sandwiched between your thighs like a damned hotdog. Itto was big, there was no doubt about it. Hell, everything about him was big, muscle, height… You just weren’t expecting this. That he was actually packing down there too, and the towel covering him was long gone after you both had a small tumble. Not only was the size noticeable, but the red markings did, in fact, reach all the way to there. What’s more, he had small bumps, ridges almost, along the shaft. Not that you could fully see it in the milky water, but it’s what you could feel. Your head was spinning a mile a minute, and Itto was only trying to see if you were alright, trying to get you both out if you were truly dizzy. Only now was when you were actually dizzy. Hot from the fact that you were both in this position, that this situation happened in an empty public bath. Apologising finally, you were about to move, but both hands of his kept you in place. You finally looked at his face, and a wide set of pinks and reds dashed along his face, travelling to his ears as well as his neck, clearly just as embarrassed by the current predicament you were both in.

“I-Itto, sorry, I−”

“C-… Could I… Kiss you?” The heat from the hot springs didn’t help, trying to mentally process the words Itto had just said to you. Words wouldn’t come out, your mouth opening and closing.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that, I must have misunderstood your stares… You wanted to get out, right?”

“NO! No, I… Sorry. My brain is still trying to catch up... You- you can.” Sighing, you place your forehead on his, with your eyes shut. There was no movement for a good while, so you peeked one eye open, and Itto had his eyes shut too, squeezed shut. So, you decided to push forward instead, giving a light peck to the corner of his mouth in hopes of giving him some confidence, and it did. He beamed, not expecting you to do it first. You assumed he was psyching himself up after accidentally letting it slip that he wanted to kiss you. He was rough at first, not really knowing how to kiss you, but he eventually got the hang of it. Not too rough but not too soft either, he was touching you delicately, tugging you gently into his lap. You couldn’t really sit, his obvious growing erection digging in between your legs, so you tug on his bottom lip and look at him through lidded eyes. A hand of his travels to smooth over one of your ass cheeks, giving it a little squeeze, which makes you jump.

“Should we… I mean− C-could we…?” Grabbing the hand on your waist, with Itto looking visibly confused, you notice that his nails had recently been cut and you nod in approval.

“We can, well, since your nails are tidy…” Somehow, this gave him a new wave of confidence, and he flips you around. By the looks of it, he put you into a reversed cowgirl position, and his hands were quick to roam all over your chest and abdomen. An arm wraps around your waist, and he held you there, the other hand inching towards the area you wanted him to touch the most. He smoothed two fingers over your cock to test the waters, which gave him the most angelic sound he’d ever heard coming from your mouth, so he did it again and again. Switching to small tugs, and more rubbing, you were sure you’d tip over the edge.

“I-Itto…” Leaving little bites to the back of your neck, sucking on the juncture between your neck and shoulder, in attempt to leave evidence that the great Itto had been there. Breathing erratically with every move of his, you kept your legs spread for him, to give him easy access. He appreciated this greatly, moving his fingers down to leave ghost touches, circling your hole. Before, he seemed so nervous, like he had never touched another person in his life like this… But he was proving you wrong alright. It only started to click that he was nervous with you, and not at doing this act of closeness. Slowly, he begins to open you up, one thick finger pushing its way into you. Getting you used to it at first, he’s gentle and continuously asks if you’re okay, tickling your ear with every whisper. He’s incredibly skilled with his fingers, not missing a single beat with the way he thrusts a singular finger into you, not missing any little praises he says into your ear. You lean your head back, letting out little moans with every curl of his fingers, pushing you just over the edge each time.

“Shhhh, you know you need to be quiet… We’re still in the public bath.” He bites the lobe of your ear, sinking another finger into you, humming at the whine you had to trap in your throat. Watching the way his fingers disappear into you, he kisses your cheek, and then the corner of your mouth. Sweet. That’s the one word you could describe him with right now, as he’s careful to be gentle with you. He knows himself that he’s bigger than others, so he’s sure to take care with you, especially the height difference between a normal human and his Oni self. He stretches his fingers apart, scissoring, pushing, and curling his fingers, pulling any type of reaction from you, grinning when you let a small noise out but trying to silence yourself by biting your lip. When he tries a third finger, he only manages to get halfway in before you start whining for him to hurry up… And he’s too quick to agree. Lifting you up by the backs of your thighs, he lines you up, pushing the head into you.

“Remember, we have to be quiet… Okay? Shhh.” You move your head to the side to look at him, and he’s quick to kiss you, to keep you quiet enough as he sinks you down onto him. You scrunch your eyes closed, trying to keep your composure, and trying to keep as quiet as you could. Inch by inch, you felt like it would be impossible. It felt like he was hitting your stomach already, but he was still lowering you down so there was still more to fit into you. If that was possible was another thing, and you couldn’t help but jolt at every new (what you started calling as) ‘oni-dick-bump’ that entered you.

“I’m at my limit, sorry in advance.” Before you could question, Itto parted from you, licking your bottom lip before slamming into you. One hand placing itself on your mouth and the same arm as before wrapping around you, hand placing itself around here his head reaches inside of you.

“I should be right around here… See? Do you feel it?” Whispering this into your ear, you had to stop yourself from cumming right there and then. Who knew Arataki Itto could be so cunning? It was almost as if he was purposely trying to get you to be loud, to let it be known what was happening in the public bath at night. You weren’t going to let him win though, he may have gained confidence from your consent earlier, but that doesn’t mean he should start getting cocky. Deciding to knock him down a few pegs, or to see how he reacts, you decided to deny feeling him inside of you.

“Mmh… No. I don’t feel you at ah−” He pushed two fingers into your mouth, holding your tongue between them before giving you little to no mercy down below. Tightening his hold around your waist, he brutally thrusted into you time and time again, suddenly uncaring for how loud you were. It seemed as though you had awoken something within him, something of fierce nature.

“This should help you… Maybe it’ll make your body unforgetting of my shape too−” The last three words he spoke in time with his thrusts, unrelenting but willing to pull every single noise from you. At this point, he wanted you to be loud, and it was clear he wanted you both to be quiet in respect for the hot spring owners. But… That was entirely out of the window. You drooled down his fingers, and you were sure tears were running down your face. It felt way too good to be real… It had to be a dream. You felt his upper thighs tense with every push he did upwards into you, his arm around you tensing and the fingers in your mouth slackening and then tightening themselves around your tongue, somehow forgetting he was trying to keep up with everything all at once without losing into his own pleasure. You started tightening yourself around him as well, trying to remind him it was a two-of-you thing… Not just a you thing.

Pulling his fingers from your mouth, he uses the same hand to hold your jaw, directing your face to his so that he could kiss you again. It was messy, uncaring for keeping things proper and nice for your first time together, showing each other how much you had been wanting the other. Your teeth clashed with his plenty of times, your tongues dancing and it just being an overall mess with copious amounts of saliva escaping or slurping between the two of you. You felt that he was beginning to pull out, so you bit his lip in protest.

“Let’s… Not dirty the water. We’ve done enough of that, just do… Nn- Do it inside−” With no word of warning, he slammed into you a few more times before releasing, a hand slithering down to rub and tease your cock until you cum as well. Staying like that for a few minutes, the heat and everything was finally getting to you, especially after the ride of your life that Itto gave you.

“S-sorry, I got a bit carried away there. I-I’ll do it properly next time if you’ll let me…” He turned towards you, not pulling out, only to see you passed out on his shoulder. He panics, pulling you both out of the water to get you to a seat not far from the bath area, pulling out of you, and then fanning you with the nearest piece of plastic how found to get you to cool down. Shaking you, only for you to groan at him and then sigh. He was feeling awful, but you placed a hand on his cheek and smiled.

“Use that oni strength next time when we’re not in a public hot spring… Okay?”

“Absolutely, yes sir.”

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin smut #x transmasc reader #itto #arataki itto #itto x you #itto x y/n #itto x reader #itto x transmasc reader #itto x transmasc reader smut #smut #genshin x transmasc reader #genshin itto #genshin fic

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cringywhitedragon · 3 months

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Random rambles but based on an AU thingy: But what if Chujin had been brought back to life as a vessel thanks to Alphys’ expirments alongside Flowey

Kinda a strange idea but just a thought on what would happen if Chujin had been brought back in a means similarly to Flowey (and also because it’s a background element for another Undertale AU I have that has like no story role other than an Easter egg.)

Note: This isn’t canon (Save for like the AU) so things may be wrong or off but just an idea I had. And also feel free to expand upon it if you like. I don’t really expect this post to gain much traction anyways.

Pretty much the idea was that Alphys found a mask that had been stolen and decided to take it back to the lab to test it as a control for the whole “injecting DT into an inanimate object”. Nothing seemingly happens and it’s returned to its owner (Ceroba).

Cue the events of UTY and Alphys eventually finds a seemingly broken mask that by some unknown means is holding itself together. Gets paranoid about it since it seems to keep reappearing and disappearing, which leads to her locking it away in a side room where Kanako was placed so that she didn’t fuse with the other Amalgamates (The latter part about Kanako being a thing from the unmentioned AU so ignore that if you want since I have an idea like some people that her body reacted a bit different to the DT and she didn’t melt fully/is somewhat stable) and forgetting about it.

It somehow escapes and soon becomes an urban legend of the underground about a mask that possesses any and all that dares to put it on.

I call this creature Masky (Yeah a “totally original” name, though I also like the name Kumiho (Korean Nine tailed fox) with what I have in mind for his abilities (Namely the soul stealing aspect) and partially because that’s what I based the concept on). He’s pretty much Flowey but really cannot do much on his own other than really move around and possibly trick people into wearing him.

When some poor unfortunate soul does end up donning the mask, Masky will then be able to essentially “take over” his new host and use them essentially like a puppet (A bit different from the standard Kumiho/Kitsune but works with the concept of a Fox spirit stealing/eating someone’s soul). The two bodies would essentially share a mind with the original host not being able to do much other then to obey as the vessel pretty much has full control over the host’s body as well as granting them some stronger powers, though a strong willed person or a host that the vessel deems “useless” may be able to break free. Though if anyone gets suspicious, Masky could simply use his new puppet to mask his intentions.

As for this entity’s motivations/personality, I would say Masky would embody mainly Chujin’s more negative traits to a tenfold. Masky despises humans and in a way may even become some sort of twisted “protector” for Monsterkind. Though I could also see there being some motivation for Masky/Chujin looking for a way to be able to see Ceroba and Kanako again (No doubt Masky wouldn’t be too happy with knowing what happened to Kanako), leading to his motivation of seeking out a host alongside 7 Human Souls (Six if the host itself turns out be a human, though I feel more likely I’d make it another monster. I’ll explain in a moment.)

As for when Masky does gain enough souls to transform back to normal. The host will be forced to absorb the Human Souls (The main reason it would likely be a Monster) as Masky also absorbs them and is reborn as Chujin.

And one last thing, like Asriel no doubt in mind that Chujin would be able to take on a Hyperdeath/God form. My idea for this form would be something akin to that of Ceroba’s TP bossfight but perhaps more on the mystical side. First off, Chujin would not have a mask but his face in this form would have markings on it that resemble that of his previous form as Masky. Another detail and to go along with the Kumiho theme I have in mind would be an orb-like object Chujin would hold in his hands and likely use as part of his attacks (This is a reference to the yeowoo guseul or knowledge beads is an orb that is said to give a Kumiho its wisdom as well as allow it to steal the souls of humans)

Also Masky lacks Flowey’s abilities to manipulate SAVES/the world but does retain memories if a reset is pulled.

Well that was a ramble but if you guys like the idea I don’t really mind if you expand upon this, go crazy UTY Fandom! I love you all!!

#reshi rambles #undertale yellow #uty chujin #undertale #chujin ketsukane #uty ceroba #ceroba ketsukane #kanako ketsukane #uty kanako #ketsukane family #Ideas #flowey #uty spoilers #uty

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virgoilluminati · 11 months

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Belongings

Chapter 9 (part 1) : “Tell me what you want and you got it, love.”

(Series Masterlist)

A/N: I AM SO SORRY FOR BEING MIA RECENTLY. If u have seen any of my posts you will know I basically have had a bad time with boys over the last couple of days and I’m just been in my feels. Not really in the mood for smut. BUT I’ve finally finished this chapter and tbf I actually kinda love it! Warning it’s A LOT shorter than the other chapters, but I thought it would be better to post a half finished chapter then no chapter at all. THIS IS THE FIRST CHAPTER WITH SMUT and warning I haven’t written it in a while so if it’s a bit off please don’t hate me. Anyways love u lots, thank you for sharing my Masterlist and hopefully u will enjoy :)

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex (use a condom kiddos), female recieving. Dirty talk? Idk it’s just smutty and kinda fluffy.

Word count: 1.2K

As soon as the pair made there way back to their hotel, the last thing they wanted was to be stopped by a receptionist who was promoting there alll in one buffet in the morning.

“Oh sorry- I” Y/N apologised immediately letting go of Harry’s hand which had been wrapped the whole way walking home. Harry felt his heart sunk for a minute worried that he had done something wrong. But then he realised the receptionist knew who he was, and if she knew who he was, she also may well presume y/n was his girlfriend.

“No please, I should’ve asked you sooner. Normally we ask all guest on their arrival, but you came in late last night and were out before buffet was served today, we just want to make sure we have all of the allergen and preference information.” The receptionists continued, handing them both a form to fill in. Y/N and Harry both slightly groan, knowing deep down the longer this would take, the longer before they would be able to finally spend time with each other and confess the undying sexual desire between one another.

The longer they waited, Harry also feared, the more sober they would become, and perhaps y/n would regret her decision.

“Right, that’s it all completed on my end. “ Harry said quickly, knowing he didn’t have anything he was allergic too. And the only preference he had right now was y/n.

“Me too.” Y/N replied softly, looking quickly at the receptionist before looking back at Harry.

“Ah, nuts. Right-.” The receptionist responds, making an extensive note to his computer. Harry looked over to y/n confused to why he had never known about her nut allergy, but then again it did make sense why she never served any nut related products at her bakery.

“I won’t die if I have them. But I have an epi pen just in case I go into anaphylactic shock.” She responds, wincing as the words came over her mouth. It wasn’t exactly the most sexy thing to come out, especially in a moment like this.

“Right. That’s all good - a lot of our stuff is Nut free but, let us know in the morning if there is any issues. Sorry for interrupting and uh - enjoy your night.” The receptionist apologised, before opening the hotel door for the couple.

As soon as the door closes, Harry and Y/N burst into laughter unable to contain the tension any longer. “That’s not how I was expecting my night to go-.” Harry laughs, before looking over to y/n who was holding it in.

“Yes. Nut allergy isn’t very uh- sexy.” Y/N respond giggling before attempting to take on of her heels off. “Help.” She responds, leaning on Harry for some height as she slipped her heel off. Giggling, he leans down and before y/n can complain, he whisks her up into his arms, attempting to carry her up the stairs. “Harry what are you-“

“Shhhh, I’m trying to create the mood again-.” Harry whispers before glancing down at y/n’s boobs, which were now squashed up against his chest. “You little-“

“What-“

“Your staring at my tits.”

“No I’m not-“ Harry replied, his eyes suddenly focused on the wallpaper. “This wallpaper is very nice, cream I think-.” Y/N playfully rolls her eyes, before letting him to continue to carry her up the stairs. The whole time the sexual tension in the air began to increase, with y/n focused entirely on the large bulge beginning to stiffen in Harry’s trousers.

As soon as they stood outside Harry’s door, he slowly drops y/n down before the two look at each other with complete lust. Harry looks down at her boobs once again, but this time admiring her beauty as a whole.

“Your doing it again-“ Y/N responds, this time in a more subtle tone. Her lips begin to bite, as she begins to feel the bulge against her leg.

“To be fair, they’re some of the prettiest tits, I’ve ever seen. “ He responds his eyes entirely focused on reading y/n. Y/n playfully slaps him before, pulling him in for another kiss, their foreheads pressed together.

Harry couldn't understand why a woman so beautiful would choose to marry a man like Will. He found it puzzling and couldn't comprehend what qualities or attributes Will possessed that would make him an appealing partner for someone of such beauty. Harry wondered if there were hidden qualities or deeper connections between them that he was unaware of, as he struggled to see the apparent compatibility between their appearances and perceived personalities.

But right now, She was his. And his only.

“Harry, as much as I’d love to be all sexy and tease this all night long, I can’t- I need you.” Y/N responds, and without another word Harry picks y/n up, cradling her arse, before opening the door and throwing her onto the bed.

Y/N excited by this change in character begins to take her clothes off, as Harry shuts the door. Not wanting anyone to ruin his moment. However when he turns back around, he stops her, before looking sincerely in her eyes.

“Y/N, I - before we go any further. I need to make sure, you know we don’t have to do anything you don’t want too-.”

“I know Harry. I know. But I trust you. 100%. And I just want you to touch me.” She responds before beginning to unbutton his shirt. He looks at her genuinely, making sure there is no regret in her eyes, and once he is sure he has her consent, he forces her to stop once more.

“Harry - I told you. I’m fine- I-“ Harry doesn’t let her finish her sentence before he pushes her up against the bed frame, and pulls her in for a passionate kiss. “On your front.” He responds, almost ripping her dress completely.

Y/N moans in response turning over so her body is exposed, only constricted by her underwear. She was wearing a set of black lingerie. Her boobs heaving through the lace, whilst her panties, looked drenched from anticipation.

Right there and then Harry could feel himself explode. Numerous times he had imagined what she would look like undressed. But here, as she lay before him, completely under his spell, she couldn’t look ever more beautiful than before.

Y/N's bust is a prominent feature, displaying an ample and shapely size that adds an element of allure to her overall appearance. Her waistline is beautifully contoured, cinching in to create a striking hourglass shape that showcases her feminine curves. This captivating contrast between a smaller waist and curvier hips emphasizes her figure in an enchanting way.

The curves continue to captivate as they flow down to Y/N's hips. Her hips are delightfully wide and full, accentuating her lower body with elegance and grace. Along with her generous hips, Y/N may possess a fuller and rounded buttocks and thighs, contributing to the captivating allure of her curvy physique.

“What.” Y/N asks as Harry stands there smirking, his eyes full of joy. He wanted to tell her everything. How he was in love with her and that her physical beauty only further enhanced his inability to give her up to someone like Will. But he didn’t, instead he just placed a kiss gently on her lips, before beginning to cascade down to below her thighs.

“Your just beautiful, tha’s all.”

As Y/N heard Harry's words, her heart filled with an overwhelming sense of joy and validation. To be called beautiful by someone like Harry, who was known for his experiences with many women, held a special significance for her. It was a compliment that transcended the surface-level remarks she had received in the past.

Will, had often complimented her appearance, calling her pretty and appreciating her figure. While those compliments were undoubtedly appreciated, being called beautiful by Harry held a deeper resonance. It made Y/N feel seen and cherished for more than just her physical attributes.

“Harry-.” She moans as she feels his tongue teasingly taste her panties, hot air beginning to flow towards his thighs. Without another word, he bites hard on her underwear, ripping them down to the feet, allowing him more access to her body. “You’re so wet y/n. All for me?”

“All for you Harry, all for - fuck.” Before she can finish her sentence, Harry pushes her legs over his shoulders, allowing him to lick a long strip of her pussy. After getting a moan of approval, he begins to speed it up, allowing y/n to be all immersed.

Y/N could feel shock waves go through her body. She had had people go down on her before. But my gawd, no one else was able to do it the way he was doing it right now. Will had once attempted to do it, and well let’s just say, it was better left alone. Where’s Harry, was twirling his tongue along her clit, finding everything that would set off triggers in her body.

“Fuck Harry, your so good at that-.” She moans, as Harry grabs her boobs with one of his hands whilst the other held y/n in place, placing her constantly under the spell of his tongue.

Harry knew he was good at eating pussy. Which is why, seeing the women he loved completely undone with his tongue, made him feel like a fucking god. Here she was lying half naked, one hand on her other boob, whilst the other held onto the sheets, all immersed in allowing Harry to treat her right.

Harry begins to fasten up his movements, his motivation focused on collecting all of the juices which leaked from her pussy. Before placing one finger in her hole. Y/N hums in pleasure, feeling a similar sensation begin to boil in her stomach.

“Harry fuck-“ She responds, her hand suddenly tugging at the roots of his hair, needing the further friction on her body. He hums in response, his tongue never leaving her clit, constantly tormenting her release. His fingers begin to fasten up on hole, until he adds another.

“Harry, I’m fuck, I’m gonna -.” Before she can say anymore Harry begins fingering her rapidly, his tongue with none stop pace on her clit. He can feel her begin to burst, and to be next to her pussy as he does so, was nothing but stuff in fairytales.

With one big moan, y/n feels the release enter her body, her eyes looking up at the sky. She feels herself begin to shake, overwhelmed from the amount of pleasure, done just by the use of her tongue. “Fuck Harry- your good at that.”

Harry smirks again, before leaning over to bring her into a much deeper kiss, the taste of her pussy, sliding into her own mouth. Harry hums as he feels y/n begin to frantically pull down Harry’s shirt, and undo his belt. She was desperate to give something to him, to pay him back for what he did to her. But with a stern grab of her hands, Harry stops her.

“As much as I would love to see that pretty lips wrapped around my dick, if I wait any longer I think I’ll explode.” Harry responds, causing a desired reaction from y/n. In response she moves faster to take his jeans off, as Harry unattaches y/ns bra from her back, exposing two large breasts at his dismantle.

As soon as both Harry and Y/N were both naked, They stood at the end of the bed, y/n’s legs high up in the air, as Harry, let his dick slide into her. As soon as she felt comfortable, he began to fasten up his movements, knowing it wouldn’t be long before he would cum.

“Shit- You have no idea, how long I have wanted to do this-.” Harry grunts, his eyes rested only on y/ns, whose rose in anticipation.

“Fuck, Harry.” Y/N moans, feeling his dick completely open up her walls. The more he moved in and out of her the more, she realised that his dick, fit hers perfectly. And there was no one else who could live up to this pleasure-,”

“Look so pretty when you take my dick, don’t y’ princess.” Harry moans, his free hand going to grab ahold of her breast, the other fastening up his pace. Harry could feel his release coming, the louder y/n’s moaning became.”

“That’s it, princess. Tell everyone, who you belong to, who makes you feel this way.”

“Harry, I can feel it-.” Y/N moans, feeling her own high coming again closer and closer.

“Fuck-. Whose this body belong to-.” Harry asks, his eyes frozen on y/ns whimpering state. Y/N in pleasure dosen’t reply, still overwhelmed by this sudden change in Harry.

“Y/N, d’you hear me? Who does this body belong to?.”

“-Y-You.”

“I didn’t quite hear you there princess-“

“Y-you, y-you harry! Please cum for me. Let me take it-.” Y/N yells, allowing Harry to fully welcome his high, his cum spilling inside of her. As soon as he finished, y/n and Harry lie in a state of shock, unable to fully express what has just happened.

The pair lay there for about another 10 minutes, in a comfortable silence, realising that not only had they seen each other naked for the first time, but also they had just had sex. But both also knew, they did not regret it one bit.

“So…. That-“

“That was amazing. Haz. I don’t know what else to say-“ y/n sighs, her hand, placed firmly above her pillow. Harry hums in response before taking her hand, clutching it slightly and pulling the duvet over both of their bodies.

“You still don’t regret it?”

“Are you kidding, Harry, of all of the horrible things I have done to Will. This is not one of them. Y’know how long, it’s been since -“

“Oh, oh.”

“Yeah.” She giggles slightly, before Harry props himself on the pillow, his eyes suddenly filled with concern.

“Wait- shit, should I have done something more romantic. I had no idea, I just presumed, so you and Will never-.”

“No. We did. Once - it ended in disaster.” Y/N winces explaining how Will couldn’t get it up and then when he did, y/n had already fallen asleep from drinking too much prior. The story made her laugh, and Harry knew deep down, she was beginning to regret ever falling for Will in the first place.

“Your cute when you laugh.” Harry states randomly, placing a finger on her cheek. It startles y/n a bit, before she lets him continue, her eyes locked in his green pearls. “I hate my laugh.” She responds cringing.

“What? Why?!.” Harry sounded outraged that she let herself feel that way. He loved her laugh, the way her eyes would narrow and her little freckles would be crinkled.

“I don’t know. I just always have- it gives me wrinkles. I guess I've just always been self-conscious about it," Y/N admitted softly. “Unable to take her seriously Harry let’s put a loud laugh. “Y/N Y/L/N, you are too young for wrinkles.” He responds, caressing her cheek.

“Besides, wrinkles or not, your the prettiest girl I have ever met. And I know, this isn’t the way I hoped it would happen, but I am so happy that we finally found each other.” He responds admiring her natural beauty.

Y/N blushed at Harry's words, feeling a mix of embarrassment and warmth in her chest. She couldn't help but smile at his laughter and the affectionate way he caressed her cheek. His words touched her deeply, and she realized how lucky she was to have him in her life.

She leaned in closer, resting her forehead against his. Their eyes locked, and in that moment, everything else seemed to fade away. The world felt still as they basked in each other's presence.

Harry smiled tenderly, his thumb gently tracing circles on her cheek. "You are beautiful, Y/N, you're perfect to me." They stayed like that for a while, savoring the intimacy of the moment. Y/N realized that her insecurities melted away in Harry's presence. His love and acceptance made her feel comfortable in her own skin.

“I will tell Will-.” Y/N responds immediately changing the mood to much more serious. “Mmm, do we have to mention that now, we were having a moment.” Harry winces realising the extent of what they had done.

Harry's expression turned serious as he understood the weight of Y/N's words. He knew they couldn't ignore the situation and needed to address it, even if it meant disrupting the wedding plans.

Y/N nodded, her eyes filled with a mix of determination and vulnerability. She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts before continuing. "I've been holding onto something for far too long, and it's not fair to anyone involved," Y/N admitted, her voice trembling slightly. "I need to tell Will that I can't go through with the wedding because my heart belongs to you."

Y/N smiled gratefully at him, feeling a sense of reassurance in his presence. They both knew it wouldn't be an easy conversation, but it was necessary for everyone involved to find their happiness.

"We'll talk to him as soon as possible," Y/N said, determination lacing her words. "I want to be honest with him and give him the respect he deserves."

Harry nodded, his grip on her hand tightening slightly. "And I'll be by your side every step of the way."

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic rec #one direction #harry styles concept #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfiction #harrystyles x y/n #harrystylesxreader #harry styles x reader #harrystyles cute #harry styles smut #smut

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cato616 · 10 months

Text

NEGOTIATING OVER US (part three)

roman roy x fem reader

note: im glad actually at least a few people saw the other posts i was honestly expecting none at all, so yey thanks <3

summary: you're expecting to go back to see roman today; are you hoping to experience something like yesterday with him? or are you planning to have a normal "negotiation" (since of course you know you don't want to seel) day. Keeps you excited

content: some spicy spice and well as always degrading treatment from roman

You're pretty anxious about today, cleaning over every single table of the café every ten minutes and at the same time, taking orders, you really make those tables shine by the way; you're waiting until Liza arrives so she can start her shift and you can be gone already. cleaning, coffee, cleaning, coffee, cleaning... LIZA! she finally arrived and you dropped the rag when you were about to clean the counter for the third time, you really had to put your mind on something else because this types of meetings makes you impatient.

"hey Liza!" you waive at her. "You seem really happy to see me" she said to you with somewhat of a worried face. "yeah! i gotta be somewhere and i wa-" "you want me to cover the next few hours" Liza interrupted you finishing your sentence. "yes! you can't say no, i am your boss tho" you laugh with her. "where are you going this time?" she asks in a friendly way. "just having a date with-" "oh!" Liza adds mid sentence seeming amused, you continue. "... with the roy family" you say. "oh..." Liza's face changed to disappointment. "yeah... they're still trying to make me sell" you said to her while you start to put your coat on; since Liza is one of the few people that knows about the history of the café, when you said that, she felt a little blue about it. "so, are you... going to sell?" She asks you pitifully. "I don't want to sell Liza... im just, meeting them anyway... roman always came here, i am now going over there" Liza nods with her head smiling at you and then waiving goodbye when you start leaving.

You start walking over your grand meeting with roman roy, and just by knowing that, it makes impatient all over again, you can't think about it until you get to arrive there, so you put your headphones on and start listening to music to escape your mind a little bit.

You're a block away from the building, and my my, it looks even bigger than last time, you start having a lot of vertigo by just looking at it.

Here we are now entering hell. "good morning hey, im here to see roman roy?..." you had to ask the receptionist since you couldn't go up in an elevator without authorization. "uh... yes, you may go" she kindly directs you to the security guards who would let you go in with their key cards; very intimidating men, feels like they destroy animal plushies just for fun. you walked really fast into the elevators, those big guys had some scary faces too, who hired them? never mind, that makes sense.

You're in the elevator, breathing, in and out. You can't help but to feel nervous about these places; these people makes you drop huge gouts of sweat over your forehead, and under your armpits, that's why you needed to relax first. 'ding.' You arrived at your floor, it's time to shine.

Right after you set a foot outside the elevator, you look up, and you see roman waiting for the same one. You stared into each other's eyes at first and even for a millisecond you felt you wanted to say something different by just looking at him, but you immediately great him like an every day person. "hey roman, good to see you" you unintentionally stretch your hand to him, he obviously doesn't copy you and do the same thing instead looks down at it as he feels grossed out by the gesture, and starts laughing, of course. "oh yeah yeah mrs. princess come on in to the castle" he stretched your hand in an ironic way while making a silly voice. "don't greet me like that, I'm not the fucking president of the united states." You two start walking to his office and well, you looked very solemn by his attitude, but deep inside you did felt a bit embarrassed, you never actually did that when he would stop by your shop the other times. "(you sigh) always so delighted to see you roman" you sarcastically tell him. He opens the door for you to go in. "yeah don't worry darling, i know that you hate me and blah blah blah". You sit down on those sofas he had in his office, and after he said that you zone out and start to reflect about it, i don't think I've actually ever hated him, i said the words but never felt it.

You zone back in when he suddenly sits on another seat in front of you, there's a bit of silence, there's words that are trying to come out of your mouth but you're worried how much it would change the atmosphere in the room. "i've... never actually hated you... by the way." Roman seems astounded by your comment, he has a slight smirk on his face. "oh wow, really? you're the first one then" he then suddenly starts to make deep eye contact with you; you're the type that can't stand eye contact for even a second, so your eyes start to wonder somewhere else to avoid him; oh shit no, not down there, look up! look up, the window, perfect, stay still. Of course roman noticed your anxious look around the place, and those accidental wonder eyes you gave him. "what? what you looking at? a plane?". You're now tired of his teasing at this time of the day, and get to the point.

"i only came back here to tell you once more that i won't ever sell my coffee shop" you told him very confident, you felt good about yourself after saying it; he smiles at you as if he believes that you don't know what you're saying. "what?" as you start to feel on edge by his silence and his smirking, that unfortunately makes the insecurity come back to your body, damn you, roman you bully. "maybe for now let's say you don't wanna sell, sure" he's making you feel confused and irritated with his stupid superior complex. "i am not going to sell roman" you said to him very serious this time. "I've told you about it already" you remind him about your story. "oh yeah boo-hoo sad backstory-" You struggle to feel confident at times, but you don't let people like that in your life, he really does feel like he's better the anyone else. "I'm leaving, hope you have a good day you little shit" you rapidly get up from your sit almost about to leave the room. "okay waitwaitwait stop". roman didn't even felt like getting up but he did like saying wait very fast. "i don't know why i stopped, but of course that you roman tend to be fucking selfish, egocentric, and a bitch, but who knows why, i forgot about that" you yelled.

Quietness fills up the room; your face is hulk red and his is blue; he looks down, defeated. "pff, wow, i thought you said you didn't hate me" You couldn't believe that he felt sad about it, however, you were deeply fighting your inner self, started to feel a little regretful. "oh so apparently you're the victim, nice one" you sarcastically put your thumbs up to him. You paused, he didn't say anything. You didnt want to at the moment, but deep down you wanted him to feel remorse; you felt like you should be civilized about it. "just try to say sorry perhaps and we can then, continue our day"

He starts to get up very slowly from his seat, his eyes gradually starts to direct themselves from the floor to then your eyes, he's now very delicately getting closer to you. Your face meets his face, you stayed very still, not a word coming through your mouth. His eyes slightly start to shift, left to right, like if he's trying to decipher what your eyes are telling him. then he quietly says, "i am, sorry... i didn't say, anything about our meeting, last night". You froze.

Although you were pretty aroused by that meeting yesterday and actually wanted to have something like that happen again, the adrenaline; you weren't very good at confronting it. So now you felt it became harder to breath, while your heart was beating faster. "You want me to say something about it?" He wanted you to respond as of course you were at the moment, unavailable, your mind is currently out of thoughts. "um.. a-about, what?" you continue to not admit the events. "I'm not stupid- you fucking want me, don't you?"

continue

#roman roy x reader #roman roy #roman roy x you #roman roy fic #succession #succession fic #fic writing #fem reader

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justkending · 9 months

Text

Found Memories. Chapter 2.

Finding Memories Sequel: (I advise you to read the 1st series for context).

Series Summary: Following the aftermath of Finding Memories, Bucky tries to complete goals he feels she would have discovered for herself as a way to let her memory live on. However, he never expected to find someone very close to who he believed she would have been if given the chance of normalcy. A journey of mourning someone he lost turned into a journey of discovering someone new happens upon the soldier. Maybe this whole normal thing isn’t as bad as he had pictured it in his mind. Maybe he had a better shot at it than he ever tried to imagine.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x (Teacher) Reader

Word Count: 4700+

Playlist Song: Magdalene by: The 502's

A/N: I know I said I wouldn't post another chapter until I finish writing the entire series, but I checked the follower count for the first time in a while and realized we passed 3000 followers recently!!! So I'm posting this in celebration of the 3155 people that have been kind enough to follow my writing journey and interact with stories that I put a lot of my time and effort into :) I can not explain how thankful I am for each and every one of your support!! XO

Chapter Notes: This chapter is written from the perspective of the reader. Each chapter will (for the most part) switch back and forth from Bucky and Y/N Clark's 1st person. I've read some books recently that did it in this format, and it was fun to read that way and see all points of view ;) Plus, I thought it was only fair that we saw Y/N's perspective from the last chapter, and you can get an idea of the character she will play. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it because this REALLY IS THE LAST chapter I'm posting until the series is complete. As always, please feel free to comment, even if just emojis or a few words. They all mean the world to a writer!!

Chapter 2:

I hadn't planned on going to the compound anytime soon, but Tony Stark had proved to be a sneaky man when it came to getting his way.

When I saw Morgan Stark on my enrollment sheet, my principal made a special visit to my room during the last week of summer when we reported before the kids. I was nervous about the kind of parent relationship that was to come after how serious she made the endeavor.

My principal, who is also one of the reasons I'm not staying at this school for another year, made it a big deal and practically scared me shitless that if anything was not to Mr. Stark's liking when it came to his daughter's education, it was on me to fix or else I'd be screwed.

It was a lot of pressure, considering this was a man who had saved humanity more than once and was likely to continue to rack up that number.

But the pressure was quickly taken away when he showed up to meet the teacher, and he and his wife, Pepper, were nothing short of kind and supportive parents every teacher hopes to work alongside of.

Now was he a little forward and slightly egotistical? Yes. But I was prepared, considering his reputation. Pepper balanced him perfectly and quickly put him in his place if he started getting a little too brash.

And it was quickly shown during any minor and major holiday that they were big-time gift-givers and loved to shower those that worked with them with random treats and thoughtful, yet overpriced, 'appreciations' as they called them.

I remember getting a card during Thanksgiving break that seemed simple and like any other card a parent sends as a thank you, but inside was a gift certificate for a spa day.

And no, not just a mani and pedi or a massage. It was an entire spa day treatment including; mudbaths, facials, full body massage, hot rock therapy, mani-pedi, acupuncture, and a list of other things I had never even heard of or knew as options. They had already paid for and scheduled it for me, and they had handed it to me like a Mcdonald's gift card.

I didn't feel right taking something like that from a parent even if I knew they were billionaires and it was equivalent to a Mcdonald's gift card to them. So I attempted to give it back and handed it back to Happy, who usually picked up Morgan and told him it was a kind offer, but I couldn't accept it.

The next day I had a bouquet of flowers waiting for me in the front office and a card that said;

"Sorry for leaving Tony in charge of your holiday gift. He doesn't realize how intense he gets in that department… But please do treat yourself to a spa day! I changed the package so that you and your sister can enjoy it together, and it's not nearly as overwhelming as the things he added to it. We appreciate all you do for our family. You deserve the pampering!"

It was a sweet gesture, and it felt rude to not take it after they had sent it back to me. I asked my assistant principal about it, who had Tony as a parent for the last 5 years, and she also said to take it. I wasn't used to the private school demographic as much, and she assured me that though it was nicer than what most parents gift, she's seen him gift more outrageous things that Pepper had to fix in the past.

"I had to talk him down from donating a hot air balloon ride for our field day last year. A spa gift certificate is nothing compared to what I've seen that man do…" she had said.

So though it still felt weird, I took advantage of it and took my younger sister to the spa, and we enjoyed the massages, mani-pedi, and facials we were kindly given.

All that to say, I've learned this semester that Tony was an ornery man. He reminded me of my father when it came to how he joked in conversations and how blunt he could be about his thoughts and ideas.

I had thrown something back to him during our first parent-teacher conference by the complete mistake of not filtering my thoughts. And when I thought I was going to get fired, he let out a loud laugh and told Pepper, "Finally, someone who can dish it back and not get butt hurt," he had laughed with a giant grin.

I apologized quickly and rambled about how he has remarks like my dad, and it was just a reflex to say what I countered with, and Pepper laughed too.

"It's ok, Ms. Clark. Tony needs the sass to keep him in line as often as possible."

"Yeah, it gets boring when people walk on eggshells around you. Where's the fun in etiquette?"

That got a quick eye-roll from his wife and a slap to the arm, which he laughed at, and we continued our meeting.

Since then, I have kept a professional demeanor around him, but I also don't hold back when he needs a quick sarcastic remark to put him in his place.

Now his sliding a resume into Morgan's homework folder was also on the list of things I was not expecting. Right next to the custom-made Stark iPad he gifted me for Labor Day. (Which who gives gifts for Labor Day?)

The resume was an offer to be a personal tutor for Morgan once she got to middle school. She was in 5th grade right now, and she was a bright girl. I don't know why he was worried about her having the extra help, but nonetheless, he offered me a job to be her full-time one-on-one tutor for next year.

He was willing to pay me enough that I wouldn't need a second job as a teacher. I would solely be Morgan's tutor, and the benefits and pay would be enough for me to work little hours for a salary that a top surgeon in New York would make.

A part of me struggled with the offer. I knew money-wise it would take care of everything I struggled with; rent, medical bills, helping my sister through college, and the list went on.

I should have jumped at this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to work under one of the wealthiest and most admired men alive, but my heart could never accept something like that merely because it was such an outrageous opportunity to fall in my lap.

I kept saying in the back of my head that I hadn't joined this career for the money. It was never about the money.

The only reason I took a private school job this last year (which a friend was kind enough to get my foot in the door for) was that money was tight, and I needed the slight boost that public school funding couldn't give me. But I wasn't giving up teaching; I was just moving to a different group of kids to teach. A lot more privileged and supported demographic, but I was still influencing kids' lives.

Though after the last few months, I realized it wasn't a fit for me. As much as I wanted to make it be that and push my morals aside to continue so I could keep paying for things without going into debt, deep down, it wasn't what I signed up for.

I was meant to help the underprivileged and poverty-level kids. I was that kid that grew up with one parent working more than one minimum-wage job to make ends meet and the other being underpaid as a school teacher themselves for most of my life. The educators who aided and encouraged me to be where I am now made me passionate about the same efforts.

With all that to be said, I was moving back to the public school in New York after this year, and Tony had found out.

It wasn't that I didn't care for the kids at this school. I loved them. My group of 5th graders had become 18 of my own personal children. I wanted the world for them and everything in between. The difference was they could have the world and everything in between. They had access to those resources.

The kids I was going back to had lived in a world I knew far better than the one I was in. I wasn't of major aid to my upper-class students as much as I was to the lower class. And at the end of the day, my job wasn't about the money; I continued to remind myself. It was about the next generation getting the support they needed and deserved.

So when I saw that Morgan had left her sweater in the classroom before the break and I had the resume in my hand, I called and asked if I could come to talk with him about it.

I hadn't been to the compound, and the size and security of it all was nerve-racking. The number of guards, levels of clearance, and private entrances I had to go through just to meet him in the lobby was intense.

I couldn't help but marvel at the architect and the sufficiency the place ran on while walking up the steps outside into the building.

People were walking around in grey and neutral-colored attire, and I felt like I stuck out like a sore thumb with my bright red and checkered winter coat. Though I like neutral colors, I was never one to keep strictly to that. It was near impossible for me to pass up an accessory or statement piece that popped with color. Hence why I always got the comment, "Oh, you're an elementary teacher? You definitely have the wardrobe for it."

Thank God I spotted Tony only a few seconds after entering the foyer because there were three different reception desks, which I'm sure went to all kinds of departments of the massive establishment, but I wasn't sure which one to approach.

He approached me with open arms and gave me a hubristic smile as I gave him a keen one in return.

"The homework folder is meant to hold Morgan's work. Not your side hustles," I said with a raised eyebrow as I handed him a new folder with just the resume in it.

"It's work from a Stark; does that not count?" he said back, his grin never leaving.

"Yeah, but the work I'm supposed to review is usually based on story elements and division facts. I don't think Morgan is worried about salary levels and insurance benefits at her age."

"With a work ethic like her mother and a brain like her mother… She'll be managing a place like this in no time," he placed his hands in his pockets, not taking the folder just yet.

I handed off the sweater instead and held onto the folder, knowing I wouldn't be leaving with it either way.

"That I can't argue. But she may want to get her math down before she starts something like that up," I held onto my tote bag with one hand and dropped the other with the folder.

"Which is why I had that in her folder, so math and whatever else she needs help in, she can have you to h-."

He was cut off when a tall, dark-skinned man approached abruptly. I recognized him as one of the Avengers but didn't want to seem shocked or freaked out, considering I was in their home, basically.

"Hi," he said.

Running to his side was a second Avenger I somewhat recognized, but he seemed more hesitant and nervous compared to the man with a sweet gap-toothed smile in front of me.

Tony's light and teasing mood seemed to disappear with his interruption, and he took a breath before saying, "I told you I would help you after I talked with-." He was cut off as the man patted him on the arm and went to introduce himself.

"Sam Wilson," he smiled kindly, offering his hand, which I smiled back and took.

"Y/N Clark. Nice to meet you."

Sam seemed to give his friend a silent look that communicated something else, and the blue-eyed man extended his hand as well.

"James Barnes," he gave a tight-lipped smile like he was being forced to converse, but I returned a firm handshake and responded.

"Mr. Barnes. Nice to meet you."

I realized then I had seen this man earlier today at the coffee shop I stopped at before my errand here. I didn't have my head on straight at the time cause my sister had called saying that the repair man who was supposed to fix our balcony door had once again canceled and rescheduled. This was the fourth time now, and it felt like our apartment was crumbling beneath us with the 20 other things my landlord had kept pushing off.

I thought I saw him staring then too, but like most strangers, I see in public, I just gave a brief smile and moved on with my day. Though in New York, I'm still learning that isn't a regular thing here. Many native New Yorkers could go the whole day not making eye contact with a single soul on the overpopulated streets.

I brushed past the fact he was studying me like I was him, as if we were both looking for an answer to a question we didn't even know.

Tony turned all of our attention back to him as he introduced me to them briefly and promptly gave them death glares. Clearly, they were waiting on something from him, and he wasn't showing patience for what I assume were usual antics between the two with how they talked to each other.

"Cyborge and Birdman, this is Ms. Clark. She's Morgan's teacher. Ms. Clark, these are two of my most impatient co-workers. Who I asked to give me a second before I talked with them…"

"Thank this one for the interruption," James said while childishly shoving his friend to the point he teetered on his feet.

"Just seemed rude to not introduce your colleagues," Sam gritted.

"It's fine," I spoke up, attempting to break some of the tension building. And instantly, Mr. Barnes's eyes were back on me like they had been in the coffee shop. But I acted like I didn't notice and turned to Mr. Stark. "I was here to just drop off these two things anyway."

I handed the folder off successfully this time since his attention was turned to the other two, and he took it while staring at them still.

"Yeah, well, I had a few things I wanted to discuss without… This interruption." If looks could kill, his co-workers would be in a casket 6 feet under right where they stood.

"I appreciate what you're offering, but I've already told you I have a job set with another district after this year."

James Barnes was grinning like a child who just got revenge, but why, I wasn't sure.

"Yeah, but… Money." Tony said the last word like it was a magic word that would make me reconsider everything instantly and fold.

"Money is great and all, but it's not what this is about, Mr. Stark." I couldn't help but laugh even if deep down I knew the risk I was taking not accepting his proposal. I went to readjust my tote on my shoulder as a nervous tic. "Maybe after winter break and I get some paperwork back from the new school I'll be at, we will better understand what I'll have on my plate."

"That sounds like a well-worded way to put this conversation off," Tony smirked.

He wasn't wrong. I had worded it specifically as a way to keep it on the table for him knowing he'd never relent, but also to be able to walk away from the conversation and not get convinced out of my already made-up mind.

"It's Christmas break, Mr. Stark. Have a great vacation with your family, and happy holidays," I nodded, starting to turn out to walk, but before I was completely turned back, I looked at the other two men. "You two as well. I hope the world is kind enough to give you all a break as you deserve during this time."

It was true. Crime and bad guys never ended, from what the news showed, and I couldn't imagine what big holidays looked like around here.

"If I know anything about teaching, I know you'll need a break just as much," Sam shouted towards me after I was a few feet away, making me laugh.

"Happy Holidays," I said a final time before moving for the exit, thankful that the two men were there to distract Tony from trying to convince me to join his payroll.

___________________________

"Oh sweet loving sister of mine, I'm home," I shouted in a sing-song voice but was abruptly cut off when I shut the door, and she stood on the other side like a damn statue. "Mother Fu-! Hallie!" I shouted after a scream let out of me first. "Why the hell are you acting like a Victorian ghost-child and standing there like that?"

"Why didn't you tell me where you were going?" she said, quickly bypassing how she made my heart practically stop beating for 5 seconds too long.

"I told you I was going to run errands," I answered vaguely, already knowing where she was going with this but not wanting to give her the advantage.

"Yeah, errands don't normally involve going to the Avenger's Compound!" she shouted with her arms up as she watched me walk into the kitchen and follow me.

"Jesus, lower your voice. We have neighbors," I grumbled, throwing my bag on the hooks on the wall and taking my coat off as well.

"Answers, please," she crossed her arms like a mother who had just caught her daughter sneaking out to a party.

"I had to drop off something that Morgan left at the school. I figured she'd want her coat for winter break," I answered honestly, just leaving out a few other details.

"Like she wouldn't have a whole room for winter coats alone. Why did you really go?" Hallie continued to interrogate.

I looked at her, and she was unwavering. I let out a huff of air, going to the fridge to grab a Dr. Pepper and the sweet cream to make my favorite drink after an eventful day.

"I'm not lying when I said I went to drop that off," I said, pouring the soda into a glass and waiting for the foaming bubbles to go down. "And you know exactly why I didn't tell you I was going there."

"You act like I'd go insane if I stepped a single foot on that estate," she groaned, pulling a stool out at our island/ kitchen table in the tiny New York City apartment we shared. "Even if Captain Roger's has walked on those tiles and maybe breathed in the same air and all…"

"Here we go…" I mumbled, shaking the creamer bottle as I waited for what I knew was to come.

"And so what if Natasha Romanoff has probably sat in the chairs or road the elevator that leads to what I assume are suites and apartments they have to themselves on the top levels?" she paused for effect as if waiting for me to confirm or deny as if I would know. But I just stared at her, and she continued without hesitation. "It's no big deal that Sam Wilson has probably flown the EX0-7 Falcon wingsuit in the field that surrounds the compound. Or maybe even hearing Steve playing an old jazz record. I know that cause there was a girl who used to live on his street when he stayed in the city, and she said there were a few nights that he would play all kinds of old songs with beautiful trumpet solos. Oh, and!"

I absentmindedly poured the practiced amount of sweet cream into the Dr. Pepper, grabbed a straw to stir it, and took sips of it as I patiently waited for her to finish her fantasies.

She went on about Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Wanda Maximoff, and any other Avenger that came to mind until she noticed me stop sipping my drink and start to slow-blink at her.

"Stop. I know that look," she pointed, stopping in her rant abruptly.

"What the you-just proved-my-point look?" I fluttered my eyelashes at her and took another sip.

"Shut up," she sneered, even though she knew I was right.

As if he had just realized people were home, her small senior brown-haired and deaf dog came hobbling around the corner and yipped when he looked at me.

"Hey, Chuck Norris," I sighed, and he came up to me, barking at my leg like I was an intruder in my own home. "I still don't think he's used to me."

"You say that like you didn't live with him for 10 years," Hallie laughed, walking over and picking him up with one hand and cradling him in her arm.

"Three of those years were just visits back home. I figured after a month of you being moved in here, his memory would catch up to realize I'm still the same person when we first rescued him."

Chuck Norris was a tiny little mutt my sister had found behind a dumpster in the parking lot of a Cracker Barrel close to where we lived when we were younger.

The vet had said he was already about four or five when we brought him in, but he had no microchips or anything showing he belonged to someone. He was also malnourished from only eating scraps that fell out of the dumpster since he wasn't big enough to scrounge through it himself. So he came with a laundry list of things he needed fixing with his tiny weak body.

We only ever had one cat growing up, so it was a responsibility my parents weren't too sure about taking on. But my sister being who she is, made a presentation the next night and was able to persuade them to let her keep him for at least a month to show she could handle it.

After a month, they saw how special of a dog he was to her and how she was practically the only one he trusted, and they couldn't just send him to the pound after that.

The laundry list of illnesses and help he was going to need to get him back on his feet led to a lot of medical bills in his future. But luckily, an old friend of mine I had gone to high school with went into Veterinary school and helped my family out a few times since we were still close.

Now Chuck Norris lived here, and he didn't care that I, even if I was paying most of the bills, lived here along with him. He only trusted one person wholeheartedly in his life, and that was my sister.

Now being 14, possibly 15 years old, his eyes weren't great, and he was almost a hundred percent deaf besides sharp noises he happened to hear every once in a while. I'm almost positive he had some form of dementia, too, cause he treated me like a stranger most of the time.

He must have been sleeping when I came in cause a lot of times, if he sees my walk in, he's at my feet barking and acting like he's going to be the one to bring an end to the big monster that teases and picks at his mom.

As for the name… Don't ask. My sister's an anomaly, and that's the only answer I have to give for that.

"Back to the question at hand," my sister continued, and I groaned overdramatically before walking to the couch with my drink and turning the TV on. "Why didn't you tell me you were going to see the Tony Stark?!"

"First off, I think you answered that question when you went on your little tangent of extremely specific details. You've for sure daydreamed about the Avengers, you nerd," I started, looking up at her where she stood by the coffee table with the glossy-eyed brown mutt in her hand, who I couldn't tell was looking at me or the window that was behind me. "And second, who's to say I even saw Mr. Stark? I was just dropping off a sweater, and I could have very well just left it at reception and carried on with my day."

"It's the fact you're saying it all as a 'could have' scenario instead of just saying you did," she deadpanned.

She had me there, and that one was on me.

"It's not like it's the first time I've ever met him. He is the parent of one of my students, so it's not a big deal to me anymore," I brushed it off and looked to the TV, and started mindlessly scrolling through the evening shows.

She immediately cut off my view by standing right in front of it.

"Move," I said, peeking my head around her body, which she quickly blocked again.

"Once, I'm asking once, that I get to meet him," she bargained.

"Eventually. Just not before the break. We're all tired and have been busy, him, I'm sure more than anyone, and I don't think the compound is where he wants to worry about crazy obsessed fans bombarding him," I looked at her with a big-sister stare. "Now, the whole thing is already over and done. Can I please just drink this and watch an episode of this documentary I've been waiting to decompress to all day?"

As if I was asking too much and the universe needed to humble me, the coat rack I had hung my coat and tote bag earlier fell to the floor with a harsh crash.

I didn't even look in the direction of the latest home improvement added to the list, but instead closed my eyes and sat up some.

"Classic," I mumbled and started to move to the closet we kept our toolbag in, but before I could stand up, Hallie stopped me.

"Don't. I bargained with the building repair man to come tomorrow instead of making us wait another week," she said, looking back at the damage. "He can do that as an extra fix for being an ass."

"How'd you manage that?"

I looked at her, impressed, considering the guy was a nuisance and very much a man's man. In other words, "How could two girls on their own ever manage without a big strong man to come and save them when things fell apart?" I think he got off on being able to make us wait for him when it came to things we couldn't actually fix. Talk about a savior complex.

"I said I had to bake some cookies for one of my classes and said I would bake some extra if he came sooner," she shrugged.

"You're a musical theater major. What class is having you bake cookies?" I gave her a weird look.

"None. I just didn't want him to think I was baking them just for him," she said with a witty smile.

"Attagirl," I chuckled, patting the couch next to me. "Just for that, I'll let you pick which documentary we binge tonight."

"Why is it always with the documentaries?" she huffed, sitting next to me despite acting like she was upset with the option.

"Don't lie and act like you don't get sucked in." I stood up and put the now half-empty drink down. "I'm going to change, but look through the ones we've already started and pick from those."

"Does Unsolved Supernatural with Shane and Ryan count?" I heard her shout as I turned into my room.

Normally the answer was no, but I could go for something fun and not so serious.

"Sure, but pick a good episode!" I shouted back. "Let Christmas break commence…"

The tags have not been acting right as of lately, so if I tagged you and you did get a notification, please let me know! I'm trying to see if people are getting the notifications or not. Thank you!

Let me know if you want to be tagged by sending me an ask here!

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#found memories #bucky barnes x reader series #bucky barnes x reader #finding memories sequel #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes #justkending #marvel series #marvel x reader series #reader series #reader insert #reader insert series #friends to lovers #sequel #justkending series #marvel x reader #bucky barnes x reader insert #bucky barnes series

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n0bluev · 2 months

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Somehow, im inspired to write that 'revision fic'. === (EDIT : u can skip but heres another snippet for u (3 separate bits that fit together nicely, actually haha) cuz hihi. THE AU: As i said, its a failed "3"rd regression context, where yjh is now in his "4"th round. The last memory he has of kdj is him dying, and to make things worse "In this round, that guy doesn't exist." is a thing, so yjh freaks out a bit but hes totally normal about this whole ordeal & the fact that he doesnt even remembers kdj's face now. Wdym! Hes fiiiiiine!

sorry lol back to the actual post : (,hope u enjoyed that little treat tho^^)) ===

!!THAT [Somehow, im inspired to write [...]] HAS NEVER HAPPENED TO ME BEFORE!!. I always like. do an outline for the overall story and vibe, then flesh out the start or something and cook up a little 500 (probably unsatisfying) words for fun kind of as a bonus. Keep it mostly for my private enjoyment and move on before the story comes to life. And that's okay... Yes, it would be cooler to actually write the AU ideas i get in novel or comic form instead of having them stay at just the 'sketch' & 'idea/brainstorm' phase before i get another idea and leave them to dust up in the pile,,

But yeah, its okay.

In the few years since ive started getting ideas for more elaborate aus/fics, ive noticed that my ideas improved with time. (no shit, i know, but it makes me happy! i grew up!!! i can see it.) My planning methods are better too. So all of that unfinished or abandoned stuff is not at all useless work in my eyes. And who knows, maybe one day i'll bring them back.

--> as a plus, all my fandom brainrot experiences even get transferred into my OC stuff, and frl whenever i read my notes these days (or listen to my voice memos lol) and im just like "HOW DID I THINK OF THIS WOW" or "WHEN DID I PUT THIS LIKE THIS? IT WORKS!" (not to brag or anything but my oc lore goes hard ☝️)

BUT. NOW THIS IS UNEXPECTED.

I DID NO PLANNING. I just started writing for orv and its. Lowkey, good ???? Dont get me wrong i only have 1.5k right now and there are clear holes i have to fill and stuff but... CLEAR HOLES! CLEAR HOLES. Sure Im used to being like "something of the sort should go there..." BUT THIS TIME ITS "THIS SHOULD GO THERE, ILL WRITE IT LATER BUT THE IMAGE IS IN MY MIND, CLEAR AS WATER, AND ONCE I START PUTTING IT ON THE PAGE ISTG THOSE WORDS WILL STREAM OUT OF MY FINGERS AS IF IT WAS A NORMAL OCCURENCE FOR ME" ,,- !??? Yo!

Anyways. Point is that somehow theres interesting stuff going on in my gg doc and the more i write the more i know where i want to go, so that's cool, i feel all powerfull for once

idk if that ease is going to stay once im done with the first scenes (ughh!!! theres so much potential!!!!!!!!) but hopefully yes. either way ill probably post it so im not baiting yall with a "um actually im writing smt rn --- *never shares with the class*" --- either 1) things go well and i write a "real fic" (!? wtf that wasnt my plan!) --- or 2) i only post the finished version of what i have now (expect around 5k? (i have no idea actually)) and we wait together to see if i pick up the idea again haha. (i do wish to write it tho! im not a 'writer' writer but i want to be one, u get me?)

! thank u see u byebye

#orv fic #orv au #nhoblu narration #(<- thats gonna be my all encompassing AU-FIC-OCS lore n stuff tag now ive decided hehe)#next step is to make an art tag (another day lol. ill make a post :3)#orv #전독시 #전지적 독자 시점 #omniscient reader's viewpoint #writing

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fireinmywoods · 2 months

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hi i just want to say that i am on my first re-read of palimpsest and i am still absolutely in awe of this fic!!! i keep texting my friend who recommended it about how cool you are every time i read a chapter’s end notes. anyway you are very cool and i am absolutely loving seeing this fic with new eyes on a reread ❤️❤️

fdajskfdhafhdla it has been a while since I've been accused of being cool (let's just say I do a lot of work with adolescents and leave it at that), so thank you for that.

Inane and fully unasked-for rambling with very vague spoilers for palimpsest under the cut:

It's hard to describe how it feels to hear from people reading or rereading palimpsest (or any of my fics, though especially the longfics). Amazing. Rewarding. Validating. Encouraging. Inspiring. All true, but not quite doing justice to the fact that I vividly remember how scared I was to publish the final chapter - so much more nervous that I'd expected before I started posting and people started reading and commenting and speculating and anticipating and I suddenly went: ...uh oh. I dragged my feet and reread and reread and reread that last chapter even more obsessively than I normally do in my polishing phase, and after finally posting it I slammed my laptop closed and went out to the movies so I wouldn't be tempted to refresh and refresh and refresh and refresh until the first comment told me whether or not I could breathe.

It's been (lord have mercy) nearly 6 years since then, and a lot of people have read the completed fic and most of them have liked it okay, and yet I still get butterflies in my stomach when I hear from someone starting it for the first time. What about this time? Is it going to work for this person? Sometimes comments on older fic can come across almost apologetic, like, sorry to bother you, I'm sure you have better things to do these days, and I guess I can only speak for myself and not every writer out there but on behalf of myself let me just say: I care SO MUCH about your experience reading my stories!!! I cared back then! I care now! I care on your first read and on your tenth! Thank you for giving me the gift of your time spent visiting this goofy little world I made!

Anyway, this is all to say that I was SO excited to see this ask from you, telling me that you were enjoying the fic. (Also, high five to your friend who recommended it.) It truly, truly does mean so much to me. 💛💙

#ask #naturalbornrevolutionary #man idek what happened here. post-hiatus me has a lot of feelings i guess.#storytelling is a love language actually #fic related #personal

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kimi-twstheadcanons · 1 year

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Sweet Surprise

-Trey may or may not have heard that growing up you couldn’t afford to eat many sweets. Oh dear, what are these boxes on your dinning room table?

Pronouns: They/them

Note: I bring fluff, my fellow Trey Lovers! (This was more of a self comforting thing but I edited it to post it here for any of you guys who may need it, love you ∩^ω^∩)

“Ah, what a nice day. The birds are singing, the sky is blue and clear, three of my Heartslabyul friends at my door carrying boxes… Wait, what?”

•

“Wow…that’s a lot of sweets.” You say hesitantly, unsure of how to react to the pile of boxes with cakes, freshly baked cookies, and a few other sweets in them, brought to you by Ace, Deuce, and Cater. All boxes are placed on your dining room table and opened to see what is in each. Enough for a party of close friends but way too much for you to eat alone.

“So, um…where precisely is all of this coming from?” You ask, dumbfounded at the random event that had greeted you this Saturday evening.

“Apparently Trey had free time on his hands and made all this.” Ace answered while taking a random cookie from a box. Before he could bite it Deuce smacks his hand, causing the cooking to fall back into the box and a small yelp from Ace.

“Those aren’t for you, moron.”

“Then who are they for, exactly?” You ask. You’re used to the boys barging in at this point but not with boxes of sweets. “Shouldn’t these be for an Unbirthday party? Or maybe even an actual birthday?”

“All these are for you, silly!” Cater said, smiling and taking pictures of the treats, presumably to post them on his Magicam. You look at him stunned. You hadn’t expected all of it to be for you. It wasn’t as much as what you’d see at any party Heartslabyul would normally host, but again it was way too much for you to finish alone. So why would Trey bake so many just for you?

“Go ahead, Ace. You can have one.” You suddenly say. If they were for you, wouldn’t it be best that you share? Trey gave them to you, after all, they’re yours to do with as you please. Ace’s eyes lit up and he quickly went around and grabbed one cookie from each box closest to him as Deuce stands mortified.

“They said to take one, Ace!” Deuce scolded the redhead.

“They said ‘one’. They didn’t specify if I could take one from each box. Plus it’s not like they can finish all this by themselves anyway.” Ace countered. Deuce groaned in annoyance as he facepalmed. Suddenly Trey popped up from around the corner with a big smile on his face. A smile that soon wavered as he saw Ace with a handful of different cookies.

“Ace. What did I tell you before you left the dorm?” Trey asked Ace while staring him dead in the eyes from across the room, his voice laced with slight hostility. Ace froze in fear as he stumbled on his words due to the fact his face was stuffed with cookies.

“I told him he could have them, Trey. Don’t be too hard on him.” You explain in defense of your friend. Trey softened his gaze on Ace and sighed as if still discontent.

“Can I talk to (y/n) alone, please guys?” Trey asked the three boys in the room as he walked around the table in your direction. Cater glanced at you and wiggled his eyebrows.

“Sure~” Was the last thing Cater said before shoving Ace and Deuce out of the dining room and out the front door of the Ramshackle Dorm. Now it’s just you, Trey, and boxes of treats on a table. Trey hesitates for a moment, not sure how to start the conversation exactly. Not to worry; you had it covered.

“Thanks for all the sweet treats. But what’s all of it for? This is very sudden of you, Trey.”

“Well…I’m not sure how to properly put this, but I overheard you talk to Ace and Deuce about your childhood. So when I heard the part where you said you didn’t have enough money to buy certain sweets I thought I might as well…” Trey stops his explanation, thinking it sounds weird. He hasn’t really done anything like this before, and half the sweets wouldn’t be allowed at a Heartslabyul party anyway due to all the rules so he couldn’t take them back if you rejected them.

“So you decided to bake the sweets you heard me list off that I really wanted to try but couldn’t afford. Is that what you were going to finish with?” You continued for him with a smile. A slight blush forms on his cheeks as he nods. “Aww, well you’re as sweet as ever, Trey. But really, you didn’t have to take time out of your schedule to bake me sweets.”

“It wasn’t any trouble at all! Riddle knew about it and even encouraged it. I wasn’t able to get everything you listed off but I hope I got most of it. Some of them are recipes from my parents' bakery as well, I thought you’d like those.” He said, looking through all the boxes, his eye twitching every time he saw a cookie missing from a box. You chuckle at his actions while you reach into a box that doesn’t contain cookies, but instead different-colored macarons. At first, you hadn’t realized it but once you saw it in your hand your eyes lit up.

“I-is this a macaron?” You ask nobody in particular. Trey turns to you with a confused look on his face. The look changes into sadness when he realizes you really couldn’t afford any luxury desserts, even if it was a special occasion. It reminded him of Riddle, a little too much. Deprived of sugary delight at such a young age when he was privileged enough to have parents who bake the dang things for a living. It hurt him. At least this time he can bake them for you and Riddle. But Riddle has limits. He only cherishes his strawberry tarts. You, on the other hand, have a world to explore. A world he hopes he can help in with the “little” skill he has. Of course, he’ll treat you no different when it comes to brushing your teeth though.

“Wait…are those eclairs? HOLD ON IS THAT A CREPE CAKE?!” You suddenly blurted out, startling the poor man. Nevertheless, he smiled as he watched you squeal in delight and melt into the pleasure of sweets he baked just for you. It was always nice to see people enjoy his baking but in this situation, it warmed his heart even more. You didn’t need to thank him, your radiant smile was all he needed.

Sadly, the moment was ruined by a certain someone who woke up from their nap and ran down the stairs.

“I SMELL FOOD!”

Oh no.

“GRIM! THESE ARE FOR (Y/N), SO DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT EATING THEM ALL!”

#twst disney #twst #Twisted Wonderland #Heartslabyul #Trey Clover #twst x reader #twst x you #twst x y/n

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fallen-in-dreams · 6 months

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CHAPTER FIVE on AO3.

Chapters on Tumblr: One. Two. Three. Four.

Pairing: Gaara/Sakura.

Summary: Her descent into madness came after her friends were all dead and before she was sold off like livestock. To him. He knew a thing or two about madness. And there was peace to be found in the violence of that madness. Even if only for a time. Canon divergence AU.

Rated: Mature.

Chapter word count: 6,551.

Status: Ongoing.

Reminder: the tags/warnings are important.

Enjoy. :)

Warnings: dark themes. Arranged marriage (not what you think). Eventual smut (level and degree of that warning being necessary is subjective). Death. Suicide talk. Self-harm. PTSD – expect some well-known symptoms and some not well-known ones. Please don’t read if you’re triggered by psychological &/or emotional-related trauma and effects.

Notes: Hi. Sorry for the late update. I do still plan to post these chapters once a week. Last week I was busy then really sick. It was a whole thing. Thanks to everyone who is commenting, etc. I cannot describe how amazing it feels to know people are reading this. Also, the edit for this chapter took it from 4k words to 6k. Not sure why that's important. Just wanted to say.

Anyway. Enjoy. ^_^

Tumblr version:

.:.

I can fake a smile I can force a laugh I can dance and play the part If that's what you ask Give you all I am I can do it

-- Human, by Christina Perri

.:.

… Chapter Five: Something in the Air. ...

If there was one thing Sakura hated more than being underestimated, it was being pitied.

It was on his face. It was on theirs.

She had been minding her own business, content to not interact with the rabid wedding planners, just watching them as they fussed and argued. As they made plans and chose fabrics and discussed whether they’d have to import silk brocade or satin weaves. As they decided if it was even worth it to have the San San Kudo (the nuptial cups) made by hand, since their existing ones only incorporated Suna designs and culture, and it would be oh-so-rude not to include the Konoha traditions.

Why is he even here?

Sitting on a two-seater lounge, at the far corner of the room, she frowned at him as his eyes scanned the room before landing on hers.

Maybe the secretary of that obnoxious council member had said something to Gaara or maybe Sajō bragged to him about telling off the foreign, ignorant kunoichi. She had no idea why the redhead would suddenly turn up here of all places, if not for pity. So, he knew. He had to. It was insulting. If he cared enough to feel pity for her, he should be pushing to get her a volunteer position somewhere. It didn’t have to be the hospital. It could be almost anywhere. Somewhere that wasn’t this tedious day-to-day, forced to listen to bitter old women plan a wedding that wasn’t going to happen.

If she wasn’t allowed to take her frustration out on a training field, let alone other shinobi, the least they could do was leave her alone.

Sakura had noticed him first. Next was the Root shadow. She saw the masked freak’s hand twitch, like he was itching to grab his weapon and attack the Kazekage. Under that monkey mask, who knew how seriously he was debating it. Sakura kind of wanted him to try. It might put her in front of the council, but at least the shadow would be gone.

Then how would I get out of here?

She sighed as the atmosphere thickened and the rest of the room finally noticed Gaara standing in the open doorway. After a few moments of shock and awe, the older lady, Kanna, stepped forward to greet him. She bowed deeply. “Lord Kazekage. It is an honour.”

“Please,” he said, holding up a hand, his eyes still on Sakura. “Continue as you normally would. I am merely an observer.”

Kanna took that to heart and proceeded to ignore him, organising the rest of the group around herself once more. The other ladies, however, continued to steal glances at Gaara as he made his way over to Sakura.

She sat up straight. “Gaara.”

The redhead had insisted she call him by his given name during one of their dinner nights. While Kankuro chuckled like a little kid amused by his parents being dorks, Gaara and Sakura debated back and forth what to call each other. They eventually decided on just using their respective first names. The biddies in the room might look scandalised, but who cared what they thought?

“Sakura.”

And they also dropped all honorifics.

Matsuri was grinning at Sakura from across the room, as Yukata stood quietly and thoughtfully next to her. Gaara shifted his weight between his feet for a moment before sitting down next to her, maintaining as much of a respectable distance as he could in the small space the seating offered.

Ever the gentlemen. I wonder if those kinds of men come pre-installed, or if you have to kill a virgin for them to magically appear.

She forced her face into a mild grimace to keep from laughing at her ridiculous thought. Gaara shifted on the lounge to better face her.

I repeat: why is he even here?

He was looking at her like she was jigsaw puzzle. Or one-piece shy of one, maybe. She attempted to smile. His sudden presence during the planning and bickering somehow made it feel more real. Like it wasn’t actually a farce. Like it wasn’t a distant idea or New Year’s Resolution that nobody ever held to. Like it was real.

It’s not real.

Sakura shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. “Soooo….” She had no idea what to end that with and instead cleared her throat. “How much work does a wedding take?”

“I don’t know,” Gaara admitted, his eyes drifting over to the biddies. There was a sadness as his eyes lingered on Matsuri and Yukata.

Sakura nodded and watched the women in the room work. Like any girly child, she’d had her fantasy wedding planned out before she even came of age, so had some idea how the process worked. Given that she had little concept of money prior to becoming a kunoichi, she’d skipped right over the budget part.

The ideas, themes, and styles section (as Ino had called it) came next. A venue had to be decided upon – when she was a child, it was the park behind her parents’ apartment, and later it morphed into a weird, snow-covered winter land setting. Then Sakura would send out the invitations and people came from far and wide, because apparently, she was loved by so many faceless people. Her dreams were of a perfect day that her adult mind had realised would have cost a fucking fortune to achieve.

She grimaced at the wedding planners. I wonder how much money they’re going to spend on this monstrosity before they realise it’s all a waste.

“I don’t think we’re needed for this,” she said, after a few minutes of silence.

Gaara made a soft sound of agreement but didn’t look eager to get up and leave. Sakura glanced at him in her peripherals, biting the inside of her mouth and thinking. He looked to be paying attention to what the planners were doing, but at the same time, she got the impression his mind was elsewhere.

Why is he even here?

She felt her heart skip a beat and Sakura forced herself to breathe in deeply, sitting up straighter, and then let her breath out in one long exhalation. The air rippled around her. It never smelled of death. Which scared her more than the apparition itself. Its arrival had the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end and she eyed it warily.

“He’s as crazy as you,” the mirage said, blurring slightly as it moved between the bickering ladies, lazily drifting toward the fake engaged couple. Its body moved like liquid fire. “Ask him.”

She narrowed her eyes at it. Are you a portent of things to come, or a wound I don’t remember?

The mirage just smiled knowingly, those broken gums and bloodied teeth taunting her. Sakura sighed and turned to face Gaara. He didn’t seem to notice at first, his attention drifting back to the planners.

Here goes nothing.

“Have you ever killed someone in cold blood? I mean after you stopped listening to Shukaku,” she added quickly. Her voice was low enough so that only Gaara could hear her.

His eyes widened at her for a second, clearly not having expected that kind of question from her. “No.”

Not since he stopped listening to Shukaku. Not for years. Interesting. Sakura held his gaze, steeling herself. “But you’ve ordered men and women to their deaths.”

Even though that wasn’t a question, he still nodded in reply. She bit her lip for a moment, thinking. What was she trying to accomplish? She glanced at the mirage. It was watching closely.

I have no idea.

Sakura turned away from him, a feeling of adrenaline overwhelming her sensibilities. “I once killed a man with the fibula from his left shin.”

Gaara glanced at her. He frowned. She could almost read his mind: how would that even work?

“He was trying to grab my butt,” she said, as though that explained things.

Gaara coughed once before covering his mouth to cough again. It was a strangled sound. A slight tinge of pink decorated his pale skin.

“And he stole my kunai,” she added. That was the important part.

She chuckled nervously when he didn’t respond. Well, this is awkward.

Sakura wasn’t sure how to fill the resulting silence, or if it even should be filled at all. Gaara clearly hadn’t come here to have a long, in-depth talk about things. Them. The wedding plans. What was really going to happen. Or even what had been planned for dinner. She’d had more loquacious conversations with muzzled assassination targets.

But gone were the days when she was satisfied with silence. When she wore her own muzzle.

She couldn’t help herself. The words just started tumbling out of her mouth. Sakura told Gaara about the time she castrated a man with a quick twist of her wrist and single swipe of her chakra scalpel. She talked about the time she hung a client upside down for an hour because he was short a few hundred ryō for her collection detail. Sakura remembered that mission fondly because there were no Root shadows in the immediate vicinity and she had taken her time with the man, if only to delay having to return to her ever-watchful comrades.

She couldn’t bring herself to look at Gaara directly, so she wasn’t sure what he was doing, but in her peripherals, it was obvious he was paying attention. His head tilted toward her, his fists clenched and resting on his trousers, he was clearly listening. It ultimately didn’t matter.

Sakura stared at the wall, her eyes stinging from not blinking. “Then there was this aide of some Lord.”

Should I be telling him all this?

It wasn’t even any high-level stuff. These didn’t matter.

“I had a knife; you know like a proper chef’s knife.” She smiled at this memory. “Slid it right in between the fourth and fifth rib, slanting on an angle, to the left and,” she mimed the movement with her hands, “sliced him right through the left ventricle.”

Beside her, Gaara had stiffened. The logical part of her brain recognised that he was uncomfortable with this topic, but she kept going. There was a rush in letting it all out. She felt lighter as she described in detail how she’d been so close to death the last time she was on a mission but oh no, it didn’t compare to that time she was naked and enjoying the bathhouses in a quaint village at the base of the mountain ranges in the Land of Lightning when she was attacked by a three-man squad of Kumogakure Anbu.

That one had ended bloody.

“Men are such perverts,” she said, growling. “Let’s have a good time before we slice you open, he’d said.” Her voice rose a few octaves as she mimicked the Anbu leader who had immediately sexualised her. “So, after I killed the rest of his squad, I cut off his penis.” Gaara coughed softly, but she continued. “Served him right, the pig.”

Sakura took a deep breath in and then let it out in one go. Pins and needles attacked her skin, and she shook herself. That felt good. Great, even. But in the aftermath, shame was creeping its way back into her once again.

Gaara shifted uncomfortably next to her, much in the same way one did when they wanted to flee for their proverbial lives but were too polite to just up and go.

Why the fuck did I just say all that?

“I was…” He trailed off and she swallowed heavily. “I came here…” He sighed. “I don’t know why I came here.”

Suddenly she felt angry.

Feeling guilty for shoving this on me?

She almost sneered, forcing herself to calm down even as she frowned at him. The old Sakura would not be talking his ear off about this that and everything. She would be polite and respectful, and maybe engage in some sort of agreed upon topic of conversation, but it would be about abstract, mundane things. That wasn’t her anymore, anyway.

I’m not me, anymore.

She cleared her throat but couldn’t think of what to say to make it better.

Gaara shifted again. Then cocked his head to the side in that now-familiar way he did.

Must be Anbu.

Sakura watched on, feeling helpless, as whomever he was communicating with appeared for a few seconds before disappearing ominously. Gaara stood and stretched for a few moments before turning to face her. He looked lost for what to say. Like a sad little boy that had been lectured on the birds and the bees.

“I look forward to your presence tonight,” he said uncertainly and all she could do was nod her head in response before he left the building.

Oh god. Kami.

Her heart ached and she didn’t know why. Why had he come? What was he doing to her? Why did he leave?

Sakura felt like crying. She could feel the emotion bubbling up in her chest. There was no logical reason to feel this way. She couldn’t possibly be this attached to him, let alone anyone in Suna. That was ludicrous. Her brain knew better but there was a painful tugging on her heart that didn’t care about reason or logic.

They took him away.

For a moment, she almost thought she could tell him everything, and had certainly said more than he’d expected or wanted to hear. It felt good to unload on him, even if she realised, in hindsight, how fucked up she’d sounded. But they weren’t friends, not really, just acquaintances. Acquaintances that needed to keep their emotional distance from each other, lest her stupid inner romantic take it for something more.

Distantly, she noticed the wedding planners were watching her more closely. Matsuri and Yukata had pulled away from the other ladies and moved closer, stopping halfway, and looking uncertain.

Did they hear any of what I just told Gaara?

But it didn’t matter. She ignored it all, lost in her own thoughts.

Sakura had no idea why Gaara had come to this building, to this room, but she’d convinced herself that he’d come here because of her. That he clearly cared. She wasn’t nobody to him. And maybe it was that presumption that made her miss him once he left. She didn’t want to get attached. It would be an unhealthy and unwarranted intimacy. But she couldn’t help but want to reach out to him as he walked away, leaving her alone once again. Her heart ached to talk to him, to anyone, who would actually listen. Someone that she felt comfortable with. But she couldn’t. Sakura was fucked up, so any hint of kindness was liable to make her hold too tightly to someone.

She understood that.

Then go flirt with Matsuri and Yukata, she told her inner pessimist. See if you grow an attachment to them.

It would be an interesting distraction, but she couldn’t risk that one either.

Sakura closed her eyes, focusing on her breathing. The familiar panic began to settle. It didn’t take as long as she’d thought it would. Between breaths she reminded herself how stupid she was being.

He didn’t come here for me. He was just checking on the wedding planners.

Yes. There was a question on his face the whole time. He was trying to figure something out. He hadn’t come to hear her woes.

It had nothing to do with me.

Yes, that was it. She needed to forget Gaara. She needed to forget how his absence made her feel. She could not afford to be so weak right now. Sakura had more important things to worry about. She’d been practising the hand signs Sai had taught her to make ink creatures, trying to figure out how she was even going to make the damn thing work without the artist’s tutelage. Not to mention she needed to organise her thoughts about the missions Danzou had been sending her on. Sure, they were all clearly suicide runs and dangerous and blah, blah, blah, but they were important somehow. She just knew it.

He’s up to something, the bastard.

“What are you going to do about it?”

Sakura opened her eyes and stared at her mirage.

“You should have left before you got here,” it said mockingly. “Now you’re just trapped, like a dumb arse.”

It was right. She let her gaze sweep over the room and accidentally caught Matsuri watching her from across the room (when had she moved back over there?), a look of uncertainty on her face. Yukata got her attention and the brunette looked away, but her eyes flickered back to the pinkette a few times before Sakura had had enough. She stood and strode out of the room.

She ignored the women calling her name. She ignored the shadow who was quick to catch on to what she was doing.

Sakura stormed out of the room, down the hallway, and out of the building. She sped up to a powerwalk, her vision blurry from unshed tears and barrelled down the busy road. There were no active chakra signatures in the vicinity other than her own and the closely following Root shadow.

That I can tell.

Images of being trapped in carts and tree trunks and under the weight of heavy, masculine muscle swept across her vision, making her flinch. The suffocating pain of not knowing which moment would be her last. The only constant was the throbbing pain that pressed down on her chest, spreading down her chest, her abdomen and further until it morphed into a searing agony. The only guarantee she had in life being that she would return to Konoha to have to do it all over again. Her head hurt just thinking about it.

And remembering it.

Chakra flared to her right and Sakura quickened her pace, leaving the Root shadow to fall behind her as she jumped to the rooftops. A stupid looking monkey hid an angry face. She could tell by the way he sped up again and attempted to cut her off two small buildings later. Was it because she’d stormed out of the Conference Building? Right. She was deviating from the script he’d memorised that Danzo gave him.

Her head hurt.

Sakura landed on a rooftop, pivoted, and then took off again in a different direction. He followed. It was a race. But before she knew it, he was cutting her off again. He wanted to drive her back toward that inane, tedious, annoying group of biddies. Well, she wasn’t having it.

Making a decision, she stopped suddenly and dropped to ground level. There was no-one nearby. A back alley. No witnesses.

It was narrow, with some wooden boxes and clay statues that she guessed were just for decoration. Or a part of Suna culture. What windows she could see were definitely closed. And locked. And likely were rarely ever opened at all anyway. The ground was relatively clean though, for a back street.

The Root landed about ten feet away from her, cracking his knuckles, no weapon drawn as he moved slowly toward her. Sakura tried to summon the fortitude she’d need to rip that mask off his face and gut him with it.

“Do it.”

The mirage was a shimmer of colour in her peripherals and raging like a caged, angry animal.

Sakura narrowed her eyes at the Root as he stopped suddenly, six feet away from her, his body now relaxed.

“Back you go, girly,” the Root said, his voice muffled behind his mask. “No Kazekage out here to protect you. To coddle you.”

She lifted her chin defiantly as he fingered the weapon pouch on his hip. It was likely a shuriken holster, given its size. Root members didn’t have a dress code so to speak, other than their masks and robes. But out of the village and on missions they had taken to looking more like traditional Anbu, minus the robes. There must have been a meeting or something, once Danzo took over, where they all agreed what kind of standard issue outfit was in style.

Despite herself, Sakura smiled at that.

“I’m not kidding, pinky,” he said, his voice betraying a lot of repressed anger. His mood swings were almost as bad as hers it seemed. “Get your useless arse back in that room.”

“No.”

“Bitch.”

Sakura wasn’t scared of the Root. But she needed something to stop him with. She needed to get past him. He was quick on his feet so she wasn’t sure who would make it back to the Kazekage mansion first. Being weaponless wasn’t helping this need.

“You’re a pathetic excuse for a kunoichi if you need a weapon to take this arsehole out.”

Ignore that, she told herself and glanced at the wooden boxes less than a foot from her. They looked breakable. She reached over and grabbed the lid from one, using her enhanced strength to break a piece off; jagged and painful looking.

“Pinky...”

Sakura turned back to face him. “Get out of my way.”

“Go back to the Conference Building.”

This wasn’t a negotiation.

Sakura held the broken wood up in front of her face, shifting into an attack position. The Root mirrored her movements but didn’t draw his weapon. Was he under orders to avoid fighting her? Or avoid doing this where they could get caught and hinder whatever his mission here really was, maybe? Or she just didn’t scare him enough. She had no clue.

“Kill him!”

Without another moment’s hesitation Sakura threw the wooden, makeshift kunai as hard as she could and the Root barely moved out of the way, grunting in a way that made her think he was surprised by the speed of the projectile. It imbedded into the wall behind him. Without thinking about it, she had added chakra to the piece of wood. Infusion wasn’t alien to her. She’d killed targets with chakra infused kunai before, so why not a random, broken piece of a lid? Even something as shoddy as this could become a deadly weapon in the hands of any ninja worth their salt.

The Root stared at her, his feet shifting along the ground as he braced himself for whatever she might throw at him next. Or for an attack of his own. Anything could be going through that twisted brain of his. They’re all twisted. Underneath that mask of his, she imagined he was studying her stance, looking for any sign that she would continue her aggression. Eyes narrowed. Lips pulled into a tight line of grim determination. Nose flaring.

Sakura lifted her chin further and tried to mirror this imagined expression. She grabbed another piece of shoddy wood. Still, he didn’t draw his own steel.

“Now! Do it now!”

Her mirage looked blood thirsty.

“Kill him!”

Her fingers itched to throttle him. To rip him apart and tear at his intestines. To imbed that infernal mask into his skull, over and over again. She almost tried. She almost lunged at him. She almost summoned chakra into a scalpel over her hands to slice him apart that way. It was unusual to use this medic technique in battle, but she had the required precision to pull it off.

Last time I checked.

She hadn’t used it in a while because it was frowned upon in the medical field. It was just supposed to be used in surgery. But hadn’t she already thrown her morality out of the window for Danzo long ago?

Sakura felt the urge to do all these things. But the part of her that was still sane knew it was a bad idea. Now was not the time or place to settle things with him. She hadn’t even created some ink creatures to scope out Suna’s perimeter yet. Her chest felt heavy and ached at the thought that she might have been unconsciously procrastinating on that. She needed a better plan than this. She needed to have more faith in herself. And patience. Sakura was angry at herself now, for lashing out with no long-term plan in mind.

The shadow would be expecting an attack from her now. She wouldn’t be able to take him by surprise again.

“Do it!”

Sakura forced herself not to groan audibly as she relaxed her stance. But she didn’t give the Root the time to take advantage of her as she slackened. Sakura turned and fled down the alleyway. And surprisingly, he let her go this time.

“Coward!”

She would do this properly another day.

If I’m even alive when that happens.

.:.

She ran as fast as her legs could carry her.

Like a coward.

There was no Root shadow hovering about outside the Kazekage mansion as Sakura approached. She slowed to a stop right in front of the door and bent over, like she was was out of breath. The truth was so much worse. She slumped to the ground all the energy having left her body. There was no sign of any nearby chakra as she closed her eyes, sitting on the doorstep, just waiting out her newest panic attack. It was never-ending and she was sick and tired of feeling like this.

Like the last hundred times.

The urge to just up and run out of the village right now was strong. What were the guards going to do, chase after her? Abandon their posts to track down this wayward fool? It was such a stupid impulse, but she didn’t care. Not really. Well, a little. It might be fun to leave the Root in the lurch, but she had to be realistic – it would reflect badly on Gaara. Danzo could use it as an excuse to declare open war. It could…

Her running away could hurt people. And not just those who deserve it. She inhaled deeply, a strangled gasp. Sakura climbed to her feet shakily and grabbed the doorknob, intent on entering the Kazekage mansion, but paused. There was chakra nearby. She frowned as her senses tingled with the feel of it. No, it wasn’t nearby. It was distant. But it was pulsing. Anbu? A careless one.

She shook herself and entered the mansion. The home of the Kazekage clan never failed to impress her with its casual opulence. The study room just off the foyer was tempting; walls lined with books and comfy chairs poised in front of a mahogany table that would take several burly civilians to shift. Sakura ignored it, as she often did, and had a drink in the kitchen before making her way upstairs. It still felt so alien to be in here but there was a part of her that was comforted by it, nonetheless. The people who lived here existed in her memories from before Danzo. It was a warm feeling. Fuzzy. Reminding her of better days that, surprisingly, did not ultimately upset her. She held onto that.

Closing the door to her bedroom door, a now familiar distortion appeared in her peripherals. She glanced at the monstrosity before moving to the bed and throwing herself down onto the comforter. Staring at the ceiling, she weighed her options. Escaping in the manner she’d been thinking about had more cons than pros, but she needed something. Something that would make everything fit into place and solve all the problems that scenario had.

“Create a distraction.”

She stubbornly refused to look at the mirage as it paced the end of her bed, like a predator stalking its prey, just without the instinct and intelligence. And without the excuse of needing a full, hearty meal.

“Don’t take anything with you. Just leave. In the chaos, nobody will be able to prove you just ran away.”

Wouldn’t they, though? Her body would be missing from the dead. Her personal belongings having magically disappeared. Suspiciously. They wouldn’t know what really happened. She would be an unknown. Doubts would inevitably be raised as to not only her whereabouts but her true loyalties. And it wouldn’t end at her. There’d be no telling where the fingers would point next.

“Since when do you care what happens to this stupid village?”

Sakura sat up and stared at the mirage. It had stopped pacing and the look it was giving her was the most vitriol expression she’d ever seen. Danzo had never looked at her with that much hate. It both annoyed and unnerved her.

What the hell are you?

There were a number of possibilities but since it was none too forthcoming, she had only questions.

“I’m not going to leave Gaara or his siblings to clean up my mess.”

“Stop being a coward, bitch!”

Sakura glared, her irritation growing. “Fuck you.”

It smirked at her. “That’s a start.” It flickered out of existence.

If only that were the case.

She sighed, suddenly more tired than before. But oddly enough, she was also extremely motivated. She did care. She really did. That realisation made her giddy. But there was no harm in being prepared for the worst.

Sakura jumped off the bed and sat on her floor, bum tucked under her legs. She ran through the signs to create an ink creature, picturing Sai’s movements in her mind.

It still needs work.

And apparently, she had time. Sakura sighed deeply and ran through the signs again. Things were going to get interesting around here very soon.

No matter what I decide to do.

.:.

Staring out his office window, the fifth Kazekage could only frown.

The day had not gone according to plan. Gaara had heard from a reliable source, who’d heard it from someone who knew Councillor Sajō’s secretary, that Sakura had approached the man about being put to work somewhere. In truth, they should have employed Sakura somewhere, like the hospital, or even just as an assistant to an official, given her history. But it was the opinion of several members of the council that not only could she not be trusted not to steal village secrets, but also that the mere presence of her Root shadow proved it.

The lackey of the Hokage made everyone nervous.

Even Ebizō was erring on the side of caution, agreeing to limit Sakura’s movement in the village, even if he clearly didn’t like it. Gaara knew the old man had immeasurable respect for the former Hokage’s protégé due to the incident with his sister and her sudden death. He knew the man did not distrust her, so to speak, but it still rankled Gaara when he talked to Ebizō, and the old man dismissed the issue.

“We have our own, shared concerns to worry more about, young Kazekage.”

Like he would ever forget about their agreement, nor the last time an enemy made some noise inside the village. It was not unusual during Cold Wars for ninja to undermine another village within their own walls. Sometimes, he felt like Ebizō would have him focus solely on one thing at a time, unthinking of all other problems. As Kazekage, this was not feasible. And helping Sakura would not hinder their other efforts.

It was only after Gaara had left Ebizō and taken time to settle down that he realised there was another path. So, he decided to see what all the fuss was about and sit in on one of the wedding planning sessions. Much to his own detriment.

And I thought Kankuro was a glutton for oversharing.

The important thing was that Sakura was being underutilised and was clearly bored out of her mind. The tediousness of wedding planning was not something he’d imagine a woman would have a problem with, but clearly, she did.

Gaara spent the rest of the day thinking about ways to help her as he went about his duties. He could go over the council leader’s head and let her spend some time working in the hospital, even if just in a lowly position and dealing solely with civilians. She would appreciate that, and he found the idea of being on the receiving end of her genuine smile for his effort motivation enough to try.

So, he would look into it. But even if he did overrule the council members, Gaara would still have to find someone willing to accept Sakura’s assistance. It would not do to use his position as Kazekage on hospital staff or any-ranking officials, after all. He just needed to convince someone.

That could take a while.

But he would do his best to speed up the process. In the meantime, keeping a closer eye on her was also something he felt necessary. He could convince himself it was for the security of the village or his promise to Naruto, but really, he wanted to. This new Sakura scared him. And pained him to witness. But he wanted her to be okay, on his own accord.

Gaara sighed, cocking his head to the side when he sensed the sudden, incoming flare of familiar chakra.

The first Anbu (codenamed Butai) had nothing to report, having patrolled the outskirts of Suna and flitted between several of the outer-village chakra dragnets. All was clear, apparently. The masked man quickly rattled off a few observations he had on the stability of said traps and then vanished, once his Kazekage gave him permission to depart. The second Anbu lingered at the doorway, not one who had ever been so easy to divert.

Gaara waved him in, and the Anbu stepped into the room. “Report.”

The Anbu bowed. His code name was Bear, funnily enough, considering his personality. Apparently, he’d chosen it himself, which was unusual since code names were typically chosen by the team captain. It hinted to the rebellious nature he kept hidden within. The council had told Gaara not to pick him for the Anbu Black Ops, but he had decided the coalition could use some fresh perspectives. Bear also reminded the redhead of the passion he’d once admired from Konoha ninja.

“Lord Kazekage.” Bear handed over a scroll, that Gaara quickly opened and skimmed while the Anbu continued. “There is one troubling thing to report.” He hesitated, uncharacteristically. “The Root member tripped a sensory jutsu on the lower levels of the Kazekage Office Building.”

Colloquially referred to as the council building. He’s talking about the lowest level. The one with the Anbu Headquarters.

Gaara hated that place.

“I know.” He couldn’t decide if the Root was trying to goad them as a part of some kind of scare tactic or was just messing with their heads. Or if he was just bored. Nothing he’d done so far was interfering with the normal operations of the village so Gaara couldn’t drag him before the council, let alone have him quietly “disappeared” for it.

As much as I’d like to.

Bear continued. “It didn’t do any damage, but we don’t know what that Root is capable of. For all we know, he’s proficient in seals and sensory techniques.” He took a deep breath like he was preparing himself for a rant. “He can’t be trusted not to attack us next time. If it’s not too bold to suggest, we should take care of him now, while he is relatively contained.”

This Anbu did not know the delicate state of affairs surrounding that Root member and his master. Gaara couldn’t do what he was suggesting. Not yet. He just sighed and placed the scroll down on his desk.

After a moment, the irreverent Anbu began to shift uncomfortably. “Permission to speak freely, Lord Kazekage?”

Gaara knew what was coming but nodded his head anyway.

“I know you don’t want to hear this, sir, given your history with her village and friends.” Bear stood straight, like he was being put in a military line-up, chin held high. “But it is my opinion that Sakura Haruno should not be trusted either.”

At least he used her name. Many on the council still just call her “that Konoha kunoichi” or worse.

It was a logical inference, but it was wrong. Gaara did not personally know Sakura, though he’d gotten to know her better through their dinners. And her recent trauma dumping.

Has she always been so brazenly and inherently violent?

So much of the strange girl who’d been obsessed with the Uchiha seemed to have been stripped away. The façade she now put on was remarkably familiar to Gaara – it was one of survival and deliberate misdirection. A mask he’d had to don for years due to the detrimental effects of housing Shukaku.

But despite her obvious shortcoming, and questionable mental state, there was no way Naruto’s precious person would ever collaborate with someone as despicable as Danzo. He believed that wholeheartedly.

The scepticism must have registered on his face because Bear continued voicing his scepticism. “Root have sophisticated brainwashing techniques.”

Yes, they do, Gaara admitted silently. But sometimes it is more fun to torment an unwilling mind.

He had no idea what to do with either possibility.

Perhaps the council is right that I am remembering Konoha too fondly.

Sighing heavily, Gaara waved a dismissive hand at the Anbu. “Return to your duties.”

Bear nodded, formed a hand sign, and disappeared in a small puff of smoke.

The problem was that Bear was right. He really shouldn’t be so trusting of Sakura, even if she was supposed to be here to marry him. Even if that had actually been his intention from the beginning. The political landscape was too precarious for him to reasonably hold any expectations of loyalty of her. But try as he might, Gaara could not bring himself to distrust the broken woman. She did not want to be here, and that told him she was not complicit with whatever machinations Danzo had planned.

Beyond her trauma dumping, he had no idea what she’d been through and wasn’t eager to find out. It wasn’t for lack of caring, on his part. No. He cared. Perhaps a little too much, given the circumstances. It was merely a fear of what he would find. She was not the girl he used to know, but he still saw her that way. He wanted to keep the image of the silly girl who could break through any walls or defence with a single punch. The childish girl who had been smarter than his entire medical team and healed his brother of a poison that nobody else even understood.

The alternative was terrifying.

No. He wasn’t going to start presuming she was complicit with Danzo. He would remain on alert on the off chance he was wrong, but Gaara was willing to take a chance with Sakura Haruno. If this was a real marriage engagement, he would want to know everything about her, to be sure. But it wasn’t. All he could do was fend off the vultures, delay things as much as possible, and work harder and faster to settle all the problems facing him and his village. A war was coming, whether Sakura Haruno was to be trusted or not.

If I had more time to get to know her, things would be different.

And how much longer they both had left before this all blew up in their faces, he didn’t know.

.:.

#GaaSaku #fanfiction #My Fanfiction #A Beautiful Lie

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purrpickle · 1 year

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Mon as part of the British royal family could actually work so well!! Like, her parents fought about raising her and expectations and her mom won and raised her as a normal child back home, but Mon often goes back to England to see her father, maintain image and probably have lessons and such (etiquette? scolding Sam for pocketing the food in her mouth). She understands the importance of duty to family because she feels it too to some extent, and her father much more. Perhaps Sir Phon knows her/about her/her status because of his time in Europe??

(This ask is in response to a post I made about a dream I had where Mon found out she was part of the British royal family. Obviously, this thought dump and subsequent included fanfiction are aggressively AU.)

Okay, yes, I love this! Yes, it would work so very well!

Except I keep on butting up against Mon's full belief that she's not good enough for Sam, as well as a commoner. I've tried coming at it from Mon lying, trying to hide her status, but...

Actually, that might be another reason why Mon wouldn't want to go overseas with Sam, because she feels protected from the knowledge of her status in Thailand.

Anyway, still, trying to see Mon keeping that secret from Sam, especially as their relationship deepens and Mon knows Sam's the one for her...

Except. Oh. Oh. It would work if Mon had been sworn to keep it secret by either her mother or father.

We've seen Mon keeping her secrets at all costs, as well as be able to lie to Sam to keep them quite realistically, like that time she pretended to get mad at Sam when she accused her of being with Kirk so she could walk away from her (her words). And a promise given to one of her parents would mean so much more than one given to Kirk.

Oh. Oh. I like this. This could work.

Poor Mon would be so mentally torn throughout the whole thing, especially since at the end when she's planning on moving to England "to get a job", that would be fully embracing her royal status and duties, all to let Sam "painlessly" move on from her without her in her life. That would definitely fit Mon's character, that self sacrifice.

...Speaking of, Mon was probably petrified when Lady Grandmother came and started reciting her life to her. Can you imagine her panic and turmoil, both from waiting for being revealed while also getting ripped down and told to leave her lover? Never mind the small voice in her head that hoped she did know so maybe there was a better chance Lady Grandmother would accept her. Thank goodness the P.I. didn't dig very deep and only focused on her life in Thailand!

And I just realized that Mon being royalty too would possibly also explain part of her familiarity with Sam when they meet again, as well as her ability to be casual with her more than just having known her as a child and having idolized her would do!

And her comments about Sam not living at the palace or not just eating Royal Thai food would have probably been partly jokes at her own expense because it amuses her!

And this would also be another reason why Mon would be leery about being seen holding hands/in public with Sam! Sam's a celebrity in her own right who does interviews and if Mon were there, she might be recognized, and... Oh, another reason maybe Mon didn't think the relationship could last!!!

Look at what you've done, anon!

Here I am connecting dots and (loving) the mental anguish Mon would have to deal with having this secret and living a double life all while desperately wanting to tell Sam but she can't. She can't because it's not her secret to tell. The scandal it would potentially create! Mon would be beholden to her own family as well, to stop that from happening!

She would be so stuck.

...

But then Sir Phoom recognizes her.

((Note: Under here is where this slowly turns from a thought dump into an exploration of a few scenes from a possible fic continuation (meaning I wrote fic, complete with a tense change), because of course I did. Slightly rough, but I wanted to get the scenes down!))

Mon had been on the video call Sam had put her on just long enough to spark familiarity, Phoom's friends having enjoyed telling him about and showing him the British royal who only showed up when the royal family appeared to remember she existed (because, among other things, a heavy saturation of racism) because she had "Run away to Thailand, isn't that neat? Had you ever met her? Like, as a diplomatic thing?"

At first he keeps it to himself to verify, and then arranges a time when he can meet up with Sam and Mon to get a chance to talk to Mon alone. Mon, who was behaving just a little too knowledgeably about protocol, which Sam only wrote off as Mon being shy and polite.

And Mon. Poor Mon. Suddenly someone in Thailand knows. Suddenly someone high up in the royalty chain, so to speak. Someone who could make things happen. Make it come out so easily. No matter how nice and unthreatening he's being, more curious than anything, but Mon knows he also wants to protect his family.

So...

Mon used all of her lessons and learned diplomacy and etiquette flawlessly. She confirmed to him who she was - there hadn't been a way she could have lied when he had photographic proof, but managed not to say anything more than ask him not to tell Sam, not yet, before excusing herself the first moment she could without being rude. Making her way outside to the grounds to find somewhere to stand in the sun that was out of the way, she hugged herself, blinking back tears already crawling down her cheeks as she looked sightlessly into the distance.

She knew she should call her father, who would have a better idea on how to handle this, knowing what she should do. But instead, all she could think about was calling her mother, who had loved her so much she had fought hard to raise her as normally as possible. Who had told her that one day this might happen, but they'd get through it together, like family always does. Who, when Mon first started idolizing Sam, had sat her down at the age of ten to have a serious, long conversation about the risks of associating with her, finally relenting only when she was convinced Mon was prepared. Who, not even that long ago, had gone to bat for Mon when she accidentally let her father know her plans about working for Sam during a phone call that lasted over an hour as both Mon and Pohn talked him down from being worried for the (relatively) calm life she'd successfully made for herself.

Of course now, Mon knew her father was going to worry again.

A call of her name made her look up. Seeing Sam striding towards her, Mon turned away long enough to dash her hand over her cheeks before turning back with a tremulous, forced smile. "Lady Sam," she replied, going to hug herself again but dropping her arms when she realized Sam would read her like a book if she did.

Coming to a stop in front of her, Sam, expression full of concern and confusion, reached out to take her hands in hers, Mon immediately curling their fingers together. She'd been trying to be more open with Sam. ...Ironic, but it meant not turning away from her.

"Darling?" Sam started softly, studying her, her eyebrows furrowing before she pulled a hand away to start wiping under Mon's eyes, "What happened? Why are you out here?" Frowning as Mon closed her eyes, she rubbed a tear away with her thumb that dripped down. "Why are you crying?" It was as close to an accusation Sam's gentle tone could carry.

Mon shook her head, having to swallow before all the air pushed from her chest, and Sam asked again, a thread of heavier concern entering her voice. "Darling, did Sir Phoom say something to you?"

Mon didn't know if she should say yes or no. Because yes, he had spoken to her, actually saying the words about her identity, but no, he hadn't said anything like what Sam was suggesting. Finally, able to feel Sam's hand tightening around hers, knowing her lover well enough that she'd find a way to confront Phoom even with his status, Mon settled on a, "No, Lady Sam. He was a gentleman." Which he had been.

That caused Sam to minutely relax before taking a small step forward to further enter Mon's space, Mon having to fight from burying herself into her. Curling her hand around her cheek, her thumb stroking along her cheekbone, Sam studied her eyes intently and tried again. "Then why are you out here? Alone? Crying? Mon, please talk to me."

Swallowing again, Mon lifted her hand to cup Sam's against her cheek, looking up at her to drink her in, and nodded. For once, she didn't want to think about diplomacy. "Alright. But not here. Please, let's give our regards to Sir Phoom. I want to go home."

Excusing themselves from Phoom had been stiff and stilted even with the man not exactly surprised at their exit, offering Mon one last expectant smile and nod before she left, Sam's hand warm and reassuring on her lower back as she firmly led her out.

The car ride home was just as stiff, a current of anxiety settling over them. Mon, very aware that Sam kept on looking over at her, focused instead on staring out of the window, unable to talk to her or process the guilt she was feeling from making her worry. She knew it wasn't fair, but Sam had accepted her quiet request to wait until they got home, even if she hadn't wanted to.

Flinching from her thoughts as Sam's hand suddenly covered hers, Mon couldn't stop a small smile, turning her head and looking up at Sam to share it. Accepting the handhold, Sam gazing at her with as soft a smile of her own as she could give through her worry, Mon waited to turn back to the window until Sam looked back at the road. As Sam's thumb stroked along her skin, Mon felt both relieved and disappointed Sam didn't try to talk to her.

Mon, barely making it into the house before stopping, both felt and heard Sam detour only to deposit her purse onto the nearest surface before stepping up behind her and wrapping her arms around her waist, resting her chin on her shoulder. She was only able to get out a whispered, "Darling..." before Mon and Mon's resolve crumbled, the heavy sobs that had been building inside her bursting from her mouth with ugly hiccups, wracking through her.

Sam froze, then squeezed her, her hands beginning to anxiously stroke along her sides as she turned her head to kiss her where she could. Slowly becoming aware she was whispering between kisses, Mon latched onto her voice as best she could. "Mon, please. Talk to me. You're scaring me. Darling, what happened? What happened? You're okay. I have you. I have you, Mon."

Mon sobbed, shaking her head. Having to push against Sam for a moment before Sam realized she was trying to turn in her arms and loosened them enough to let her before tightening them back around her again, pulling her in as close as possible, Mon bowed her head to press her forehead against her shoulder. Her own arms wrapping around Sam, she grasped her fingers as hard as she could into Sam's back and blouse.

Mon knew she needed to do it, needed to tell Sam. She knew she did. She also knew she needed to call both her parents to warn them first.

But even before that, what Mon needed now, what Mon knew she needed now, was for Sam to hold her, like she was, like she was never going to let her go.

Mon was just saying her last "I love you," before hanging up the phone with her mother when Sam poked her head into the room. Wiping her cheek before nodding her in, Mon set her phone down onto their bed next to her as she silently watched Sam slowly pad her way over to take the seat on her opposite side.

Inhaling, shoulders wavering a second before she straightened and pushed her hair back, Sam turned her chin to look at Mon. "You didn't have to hang up. I just wanted to tell you I ordered dinner for us."

Sam was trying so, so hard to be understanding, to give Mon space, but Mon could see the cracks in her stiff position. Her fingers twitched on her knees, and her eyes, as she stared at her from a slightly hunched position, were reddened and tight under a forcefully neutral mask, but it was her voice that twisted Mon's stomach more than thinking about eating something did.

Mon briefly closed her eyes, then nodded. She gave Sam a smile. "It's okay, Lady Sam. I was done."

"Oh. Good."

Exhausted but also buoyed as much as she could be from talking to her mother, Mon wouldn't have been able to stand it if another oppressive silence settled between them.

So when Sam didn't say anything, Mon, exhaling and shifting to face Sam more fully, slowly took her hands into hers, waiting for Sam to meet her eyes again after they dipped to watch her do so. "I have to tell you something," she said steadily, "But please..." she squeezed Sam's hands, almost shaking them as she poured all her love into her voice, "Please know it does not change how much I love you more than anything else in the world."

...

As soon as she had finished speaking, Mon knew instantly that that had been the exact wrong thing she could have said to lead Sam into a calm discussion.

((To be continued? Maybe? In some form or other?))

#thank you anon!#gap the series #monsam #sammon #mon #khun sam #sir phoom #my fanfiction #anonymous #anon #henceforth known as #royalty au!mon #in case there's more #offshoot rambly ramblings

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slrsunfire · 1 year

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WIP Wednesday-Love Persevering (Chapter 3)

Making good progress on the next chapter of ACU! Hoping I can maybe wrap up this chapter by the end of this week and have something (possibly) up by this weekend. Since I shared a bit from that story last week, I figured I'd tempt you all instead with some content from the next chapter of my mdtb!Ronin AU since I know there a few of you out there wanting the next installation.

I think after I post this next chapter of ACU I'll be dedicating some time to getting started on the continuation to my recent a/b/o mdtb childhood betrothal fic...I have most of what I want to do with that outlined, my brain has just been being difficult and mulling over how to start if off. *sigh*

Anyway, enjoy!!

Unsurprisingly they fan out to encircle them, though Tobirama notes one horse and its rider have split off from the rest, beelining straight for Kagami. It’s hard to keep his eyes on the strangers that have surrounded him while also marking the progress of the long-haired man so fixated on Kagami. He has only a moment to wonder as to their relation when his young companion catches sight of the stranger and throws himself beyond Tobirama’s reach with a loud cry of happiness.

“Chichiue!”

The rider canters up to them before forcing the horse he sits upon to wheel about in an effort to slow down far more quickly than would normally be advisable. Tobirama can tell that the man is a master rider with how gracefully he manages it, even as the creature protests with a high whinny and scrapes its hooves agitatedly against the dusty ground.

In seconds Kagami’s father has thrown himself from his saddle and remarkably the man’s horse stands still, making no move to bolt while the nameless stranger races up to Kagami and falls to his knees to take the boy into his arms.

“Thank the Gods,” Kagami’s father chokes out, loud enough that even Tobirama can hear the relief and quivering emotion present in the man’s voice.

“Take your son back to the compound, Hikaku,” one of the other men suddenly commands.

Of the gathered Uchiha on horseback, Tobirama finds the man who has issued the order to be the most intimidating of them all, at least physically.

He is broad-shouldered and blessed with strong, well muscled arms that are clear in their power even from beneath the voluminous fabric of the man’s indigo colored haori. He carries two swords at his waist, and Tobirama can tell the man is trying to determine whether he will need to use them on Tobirama. He has taken to wedging himself and his horse in between Tobirama and Kagami, as if he expects Tobirama to try and steal the young boy back.

The man’s long, wild hair is tied up and back in a high tail not unlike how Tobirama once used to keep his hair before he’d shorn his locks upon the loss of his family and title. The Uchiha carries the bearing of a leader around him like a king wears the raiments of his station, effortlessly and to ruthless effect. His dark eyes stare piercingly down at Tobirama, sharp in their understated but no less clear warning of violence should Tobirama show himself to be a threat to his people.

This is a man Tobirama would have feared to have crossed blades with on a battlefield had the Senju ever been set against the Uchiha. He cannot help but grimly wonder if such a fate may still yet come to pass with the frigid reception he has found himself on the receiving end of. Tobirama knows they see him as a threat, that they have taken one look at him and his disheveled clothing and see nothing but a disreputable ronin, just like Kagami had said only a few days before.

“You,” the Uchiha points to him abruptly, “will give up your swords and come with us.”

#writing wip #Love Persevering #Tobirama!Ronin AU #mdtb #madatobi #senju tobirama #uchiha madara #uchiha kagami #uchiha hikaku #A WILD UCHIHA APPEARS #finally! I know some of you wondered when this was going to happen...

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menaceofrhodes · 1 year

Text

Tired eyes and soft breaths || EnforcerPOV X GN!Reader

The rustling of paper and file cabinets opening and closing is what first met me when I opened the office door, the loud closing of the door went unnoticed.

“I should have expected it, but seeing them pushing themselves this far bothers me…”

Stepping closer I set down the steaming cup of coffee on their desk and finally they looked up at me.

“Ah Enforcer, you are back. Thank you for the coffee, I really appreciate it.”

Their tired eyes drift down to the cup and their fingers carefully curl around the handle.

“Of course, I made it just the way you like it.”

Their lips curled into a small smile as they took their fist sip, eyes fluttering close as they, by the looks of it, tried to savour every last drop.

Their head bobbed forward and the cup almost slipped from their fingers,

reaching out almost unconsciously I supported them by their shoulder with the other hand catching the cup before it spilled.

“You really are overdoing it this time, breaks are precious and it's time you took one.”

Letting go they slump back in their chair and their eyes drift over the desk.

“I really should finish this paperwork, there is still so much left…”

This made me say things my normally rational self would never utter.

“You will run yourself into the ground both mentally and physically at this rate, I will enforce break time if I have to.”

My tone and words might have been too strict, because the look of surprise on their face almost made me retract them.

Their eyes drift to the side, it looks like they finally realised.

“Maybe a small break wouldn't hurt…”

Instant relief washed over me, “Huh? Why? I thought this was friendly affection… I never realised…”

My thoughts are rustled by their voice, cutting through my confusion like Laterano church bells.

“My legs have fallen asleep, sitting for this long was a bad idea after all.”

I reach out my hand which they almost immediately take, the office chair rolls back but I can't seem to let go of their hand.

My eyes drift to the couch nestled in the middle of the office, normally reserved for more diplomatic purposes but it'll do for an emergency nap.

Walking ahead, still holding their hand I guide them to sit on the couch, they tiredly slump back, closing their eyes.

“You're not planning on sleeping sitting up, I hope.”

Sitting down myself, I motion to my lap as their sleepy eyes drift from my face to my lap.

“A lap pillow? How cliche can you get?”

They laugh, scooting closer.

“Please excuse the lack of pillows, I wasn't prepared for this scenario.”

They let out a small laugh once again, I find myself wanting to hear it more, wanting things more, but right now making them rest was my priority.

They slowly place their head on my thigh, legs stretching out as they let out a long sigh.

“Thank you Enforcer, I really needed this.”

Their eyes flutter shut and I find myself unable to look away.

And this time instead of paperwork rustling, their soft breaths fill the room, I let my knuckles glide over their cheek.

“Sweet dreams.”

Authors Note

It’s been a while since I’ve posted any writing on here, so I hope it turned out okay. Anyways enjoy reading!🩸

#mod luci #arknights x reader #arknights #enforcer x reader #arknights enforcer

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sky-drgn · 10 months

Text

Remember Us - The Original Ending

Genre: Fluff with a hurt (sorry not sorry Kunikida) Ship: Chuuya x Dazai (Soukoku) Words: 1,065 Note: This is the original ending! Do remember, I'm writing a new ending!! There is a reason for that! However the poll said to post this one and the new one... SO! Here is the original! Think of it as something to hold you over until the new (hopefully better) ending is done! Despite my editing, there still might be grammar/spelling mistakes. Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Ending 1 - Ending 2

Chuuya worked from home with Dazai either lying or sitting in his lap. That depended on if he worked in the living room or the office he made himself while Dazai was gone.

“Chibi..”

“What’s up Mackerel?”

“I’m thinking about rejoining the Mafia. It’s not like I remember too much of what happened there anyway.”

Chuuya stopped functioning for a second hearing that. “Never in any lifetime am I letting that happen. What made you think that’s a good idea?”

“I’d get to spend more time with Chibi, and if something like this happened again we’d still be together.”

“Hey, I already told ya it wasn’t your fault this happened. Even if we were together, we have no way of knowing if you’d have remembered anything.”

“I remembered them… How could I not have remembered you? I’m with Chuuya every day. I love you so much. How-”

“Hey! Osamu. It isn’t your fault. You’re never joining the mafia again. You’re here now and that’s what matters. I knew you’d remember eventually. One way or another, I knew it.” Chuuya lied.

“You’re too good for me, Slug.”

“No, it’s just the opposite, you stupid Mackerel.”

That wasn’t the last conversation they had about Dazai rejoining the Mafia. Each time Chuuya denied the idea. Both tried to make sure they understood what the other was saying.

Not even a week later work had to continue as normal. Or as normal as work could be when the Port Mafia and the ADA had to work together. On top of Dazai not seeing his co-workers in close to three weeks.

Yeah, Chuuya expects this to be a mess.

And a mess it was.

The two organizations met on neutral grounds. This way if something did break out, one side wouldn’t have the upper hand. Chuuya and Dazai were the last to arrive thanks to the younger. Although you could hear them before you could see them.

“Let go of me you stupid Mackerel.” They could hear Chuuya yell.

While no one could hear what Dazai undoubtedly whined back, they did hear Chuuya yell: “Fine! Happy now? Now go over to your shitty coworkers.”

“Much better! Thanks, Chibi!” Dazai said, with an obnoxiously loud kiss on his cheek. Both organizations just stared at the two since they were now both visible and Dazai was within earshot.

Fukuzawa and Mori - the boss of the Port Mafia - decided on their own, that for the time being that scene would be ignored. They do have more pressing matters to worry about.

Dazai’s co-workers, on the other hand, were not on the same page as their President. Dazai received a harsh glare from Kunikida and confused looks from everyone else as he took his place just behind and next to Fukuzawa.

Chuuya’s co-workers were more professional, opting to play twenty questions after the meeting was officially over. So they were only slightly more professional than Dazai’s.

Back at the agency’s office, Dazai was cornered almost immediately by Yosano, effectively putting space between Kunikida and Dazai. No one knew if she was protecting Dazai from Kunikida or Kunikida from Dazai. (If anyone in the office had to guess, it was Dazai from Kunikida.)

“What the hell was that?”

“What was what, Yosano?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about Dazai. At the meeting. You showing up late hanging all over a Port Mafia Executive.”

“Oh, that! I got more memories back. Chuuya and I are married. If I annoy my Chibi enough he’ll let me wear his hat for the rest of the day.” Only Chuuya knows it’s because Dazai will miss him. “And before you ask, we eloped in France just after our eighteenth birthdays, but we started dating at sixteen.”

“Don’t you think you should have told us that before you lost your memory?” Kunikida asked, adjusting his glasses.

“I suppose I could have after the alliance was finalized. Didn’t really cross either of our minds. No one knew before today. No one. It was safer that way.” Dazai shrugged. “If you need him to sign any papers for the employee records, I’m sure he’ll grumble about it next time he’s here.”

No one brought up the date that was supposed to happen.

The office was quiet as everyone did their assigned work - even Dazai.

Back in Port Mafia headquarters, Chuuya was unable to answer the question of his coworkers as he was called up to Mori’s office. Everyone knew they would get the answers later.

“That was quite the display you put on at the meeting.”

“You know how Dazai is. He enjoys making a scene.”

“Yes, I suppose, he would. Tell me, how long have you two been together.”

“Almost seven years, married for five of them. This, of course, doesn’t affect my loyalty to the organization. Had it I would have left with him after you had his friend killed.” An effective way to say Chuuya has no intentions of betraying the organization, and in turn Mori, while not partially being Mori’s fan anymore. For some years now. With Mori never knowing the wiser. “Especially when you could have just assigned Dazai to that case. Having him cancel the enemy’s ability and then killing him would have been an effective way to keep a valuable pawn. After smoking Sakaguchi out as a mole, of course.”

“I see, that is quite the plan. I’m not quite sure it would have worked how you expect it though. You’re dismissed.”

“We wouldn’t exactly know that now would we, it’s a bit late to find out,” Chuuya added before he left the office to meet up with the rest of his coworkers. Answer their questions.

Hours later the happily married couple was reunited in the safety of their home. Comfortable clothes with fluffy blankets surrounding them. Chuuya’s hand runs through Dazai's hair while Dazai nuzzles Chuuya’s neck, holding him tight.

“‘Samu.”

“Hm?”

“Let’s go back to Paris for our anniversary.”

“That’s in two weeks, and we still have a joint job to do. When are we leaving?”

“The second the job is over. Remind everyone why Double Black is the best, even on different sides.”

“I’ll let the President know. I’m going to do some overtime work to make up for what I missed. I’ll probably be home before Chuuya anyway, but I’ll let you know.”

“I love you Osamu.”

“I love Chuuya more.”

BSD Master List - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Ending 2

#soukoku #chuuya x dazai #dazai x chuuya #bsd chuuya #bsd chuuya nakahara #nakahara chuuya #chuuya nakahara #bsd dazai #bsd dazai osamu #dazai osamu #osamu dazai #fluff #some hurt #dazai has amnesia #amnesia au #chuuya 🥰🥰🥰#dazai 🥰🥰🥰#sky's writing ⛅

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www-librarytearoom-com · 1 year

Note

Hey thanks for being so nice about my question, I just rly wanted to avoid conflict lol. But I actually do have a request! If you could write something this ishimondo idea I’ve had for a while that’d be cool. It’s basically mondo finds out that he needs glasses and when he finally gets them and can see properly he realizes wow kiyotaka’s like really beautiful. Thank you very much if you can and I hope you have a nice day

Absolutely no worries! Differences in opinion should never result in conflict in my opinion. ^^ I ABSOLUTELY LOVED YOUR IDEA !!! So I got to work straight away (or after I finished my actual work cuz I have a job lol ♡). I really do hope you enjoy it! It is a bit character building heavy but I love to do that at the starts of my posts.

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

Beautiful Best Friend

Fanfic Commision, 1,343 words.

Triggers: none.

Theme: Fluff, romance-ish? Hinted romance.

Additional notes: This is set their first year of Hope's Peak Academy, so before all of the Canon drama!

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Mondo hadn't always been all too aware of it. It had always just been a natural thing of him having to squint his eyes to read work, or bills, or even road signs… well, the ones that he bothered to read anyway. Everything in his line of sight had always just been a blur, he supposed?

Of course, the fact that he never really chose to do his school work, or read any books, or study any road laws that probably would've been useful as a gang member never helped. He hadn't really been given a reason to care for them; he had hardly even considered batting an eye for them.

After all, who had ever told him to?

He never really chose to show up at school. That was one of the least important things to him. School? Education? Why in the damn hell would he need that when he's part of one of an Ultimate Biker Gang?

All in all, his blurred eyes hadn't ever been a concern. He'd always just brush it off. Be it, 'oh I just didn't sleep well last night', or: 'those damn street lights always getting in my eyes!'. Mondo had never really taken the time to consider something might actually be wrong with his definitely out of the ordinary eyesight.

But, he hadn't ever bothered to care.

Besides, anything out of the norm - or his norm, which was big and tough - was a weakness in their career. He didn't have time for this fault in his eyesight! Always too busy with his gang, and the fun and stress that came along with it.

Well, that was until he enrolled in the most favoured and prestigious Hope's Peak Academy! The school that everyone in practically the whole world wanted to enroll in, wanted to experience. It was just too amazing to pass up, right?

He hadn't really expected to get in. But it was way better than any ordinary High School he could have attended. Because all he had to do? Practice being a Gang Leader! That's all he needed to pass, and what a win that was in his books.

Sure, yes, of course, or whatever. He wasn't expecting to make any friends along the way. He was planning on just sticking to his Gang, because his bros were his family. He didn't need anyone else. These damn privileged brats didn't need his attention.

Like, c'mon? Ultimate Fanfic Creator?! Yeah, Yamada was nice and all, but what did he actually do to be able to land a place in that school? Write a good ol' 'Harry Potter' fanfiction or somethin'? He couldn't wrap his head around that.

There were other students in his class, however, that were really cool! Naegi, despite being completely and utterly normal, was such a fun guy to hang with. There was so much personality built into that small little body. It was fun hanging out with him because he was practically compliant to every single thing. He enjoyed pulling him out onto bike rides and listening to the kid's horrified screams.

Togami was… well, he was definitely somethin'. Depending on what you were talking to him about, he could hold quite a decent conversation with you. But other than that? Nah, there wasn't much to him except for the fact that he was an entitled spoiled brat.

Mukuro was cool too, he supposed! Very scary though. She just always had this cold stare on her face, but if he ever made a sarcastic joke or a pun at her, she'd always shoot one back. That was a win from his books!

In comparison, there was Ishimaru. Someone he considered to be his ultimate best friend. They were practically polar opposites in regards to their talent. In a nutshell, a delinquent and a teacher's pet? It made no sense how they could get along so well, but they just found it so easy to flow together and find similar interests. Mondo tried his hardest to understand his bro's insistence on following every single rule, heck, he had even tried to read the rulebook with him! Ishi' always tried to understand his love for biking and going above the speed limit.

When he thought about his attempts to read the rulebook with him, however, he was reminded again of how hard he had to squint his eyes to even begin to depict some of the words.

"Mondo, are you struggling with something?"

When he finally looked up, it had appeared that Ishimaru had been calling his name a multitude of times to try and grab his attention. He hadn't even picked up on it. He was quick to smile though and brush it off.

"Eh, nothing to worry about, bro!" He started, leaning back in his desk chair and casually resting his hands at the nape of his neck. "Just wondering about my eyesight. It's always been rather blurry."

Ishimaru appeared to take this far more seriously than he did. "It has? You should see an opthamologist about that, bro. That doesn't seem normal."

Mondo had furrowed his eyebrows but ultimately brushed it off for the rest of the day. However, Ishimaru's words had apparently stuck in his head. After all, he had never even remotely considered going to see anyone about his eyesight! It had just become normal to him I guess?

Regardless of that, he somehow found himself outside of an ophthalmology clinic two weeks later, a new pair of glasses in his left hand. He wasn't about to put them on in public - he could hardly even imagine doing that! If someone who knew him recognised him, what would they think?

At that thought, he shoved the glasses in his pocket and began to make his way back to the academy. Mondo couldn't risk anyone seeing him outside of the clinic. His reputation would be ruined!

It was odd how nervous he felt to show anyone his new glasses. Though even he could admit that he had never seen so clearly whilst wearing them. Perhaps he could go back and ask the doctor dude (it was so hard to pronounce ophthalmologist and he stood by that), to get some contacts so that way he could see all the time and not have to risk his reputation.

The first person he decided to show them to, was Ishimaru. As they sat together in his dorm, he put his glasses on to show his bro and…

Woah.

When did Ishimaru ever look that beautiful?

He felt the heat begin to rise to his cheeks, and all of a sudden he felt all sweaty and clammy. Basically to the point where he had to shrug off his long Biker jacket.

He couldn't have problems with his hearing too, man! But everything Ishimaru was saying to him, compliments of his glasses, he noted. Everything was going straight through him as all he could pay attention to was the handsome appearance of his best friend.

Did that just happen overnight? He didn't know, but he felt himself rubbing the back of his neck with sheepishness as he tried to stop himself from admiring the boy in front of him.

"Mondo, are you even listening to me?" Ishimaru deadpanned eventually, and Mondo zoned back in.

"Yeah, yeah. Say, 'Maru? What say you and I pop down to the cafe you like this weekend?" Mondo managed to ask after a sudden confidence - or adrenaline? - boost. Of course, he had always found everything about his best friend to be amazing, but being able to see the absolute beauty of his best friend hit the nail dead right on the coffin.

"You mean like, as a date?" Ishimaru quizzed him, his red eyes meeting his dead on. He was always able to do that, keep constant eye contact. Sometimes to the point of discomfort for others: never for him.

"I mean, yeah. That'd be cool." He responded and smiled, one of his softer smiles.

Yeah, maybe it didn't just have to be his gang that could be family.

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

I really do hope you like reading it as much as I loved writing it! I hope it was to your tastes, and I'm so sorry if it wasn't. I'm kinda new to commissions O-O

Love, Anastasia ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

#writing #lgbtq #writing comissions #danganronpa #fanfic #ishimondo #danganronpa trigger happy havoc #hopes peak academy #commission #gay men #men loving men #danganronpa mondo #ishimaru x mondo #ishimaru kin #makoto naegi

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