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bestiesenpai · 3 years

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firsts with fushiguro megumi

Sushiguro is here lads! To do what? Simp! How much? Badly! When? Now! Femme pronouns purely so I can use the term ‘big sis’

TW: blood(but it’s very brief), drinking too

First meeting

When Fushiguro came to Tokyo Tech, he knew there’d be other students there, older than him and his same age

He went into the school with no particular intention of dating any of his classmates, or really dating anyone to be honest

But then, why does he find a third year so cute? He wasn’t here for any of that, it wasn’t Rupauls best friend race!

He hasn’t even said a word to you and you’re already capturing his heart, and really all you’re doing is talking to Inumaki and the other second years, laughing with them and just hanging out before any lessons start

He doesn’t realize he’s scowling and glaring right at you in his attempts to figure out his feelings until you come up to him with an annoyed look on your face

“Hey, any reason you’re fucking staring at me like that?” You spit, one hand on your hip and the other pointing at him.

“What?” He says it harder than he wants to, his brows raising up slightly. He was staring at you? You seemed mad too, what was he supposed to do?

“Sorry.” The answer must not have been good enough for you because you let out a grunt.

“That’s all you have to say, you little creep?”

“(Y/N), don’t get so worked up.” Maki tries to calm you down, but you push her away.

“No, I wanna know why he was staring at me like that. Do you have a problem with me, first year? We’ve never even met before, so what’s your deal?”

Shit. Shit this was really bad and only getting worse.

“I-I didn’t mean to.”

“Well you did, so explain yourself.” You reply immediately, scaring him more. Crossing your arms over your chest, you cock your head to the side. “Well? You gonna answer or what?”

How was he supposed to explain that he was looking at you because he thought you were pretty and he wanted to talk to you but he was too nervous?

“I uh-” Clearing his throat, Megumi’s eyes bounced to his upperclassmen. None of them were trying to calm you down anymore and they actually seemed a little scared themselves.

“Speak up.” Snapping your fingers at him, you got closer, almost bursting Megumi’s personal bubble.

“You’re pretty.” He squeaks out, flinching at the way you raise your eyebrow. “Woah!” With one sweep of your legs he’s sent tumbling to the ground and onto his back.

“Fuck off and stay away from me, you weirdo.” Stepping on his stomach, you walk on top of him and out of sight to the dorms. Megumi lays there, staring at the sky in silence with his hands clutching his abdomen.

“Sorry about (Y/N), she can be a little testy.” He’s being helped up by Panda, with Inumaki standing just off to the side.

“(Y/N).” He says your name quietly, looking at the place you’d just disappeared to. Royally fucking up your first meeting, he’d have to fix your relationship with him sooner rather than later.

First hangout

After that fateful day, Fushiguro doesn’t see much of you because, you’re actively avoiding him

And when he does see you, you always make the comment that your day just got ten times worse from just having him in your vicinity

It hurt to have you say those things, especially because Fushiguros crush on you hadn’t diminished at all

He saw the way you were with others and it made him yearn to be a part of that

He’s also gotten his ass beat a few more times for somehow always being caught staring at you and Gojo laughs every time, even video taped it to laugh at later

The only time you actually hang around him - and not of your own accord - is before the goodwill event with Kyoto. Since you’re not allowed to participate, you’ve been tasked with helping him train

And it’s not going very well...could this even be considered a hangout?

“That makes five, shitty-guro.” It’s the fifth time you’ve knocked him into the dirt with just your fists. It’s in Megumi's mouth, the taste of the dirt, and he feels its grit between his teeth. His arms shake hard as he forces himself up to all fours and then to his feet.

“O-one more time.” There’s a cut above his eye that’s started to trickle blood into his line of sight and he hastily wipes it off. Fighting you reminds him of his fight with Todo, how overwhelming it was to be on the receiving end of the onslaught of attacks.

“Really? You must have a fucking pain kink or something, sicko.” Spitting on the ground, you roll your neck and take your stance, fists in front of you and feet spread apart. “But let’s see what you got.”

Megumi doesn’t think when he comes after you this time. Before, he’d tried to make calculated moves that would all just end in his defeat. You were either too quick for him to execute them or you’d already thought two steps ahead and dodged.

As your fist just barely misses breaking his nose, Megumi does manage to tackle you onto the ground. There’s a brief tumble and he can’t exactly make odds or ends of the world, but he rolls you on the ground and manages to pin your arms and legs to your side.

“Ha...I did it.” It’s all he can think to say, stupidity flashing across his brain at how dumb he sounds. You wiggle underneath him, quickly giving up and settling onto the dirt.

“Okay so hit me.”

“What?”

“Hit me you fucking moron, you’ve barely landed any punches on me this whole time.” Rolling your eyes, you turn your face to the side and squeeze your eyes shut. “Go ahead.” Picking up his fist, Megumi looks at it and at you. It’s true, he’d barely striked you, only landing a few punches by lucky chance.

“I-I can’t.” At least not like this. Although he wasn’t one to believe in pulling punches or going easy during training, he didn’t want to hurt you like that, particularly with you down like this.

“Well I can.”

“Huh?” It happened again, a move he wasn’t prepared for. Arching your back hard, your leg swings up, pushing him up your body but also nailing him in the back of the head with your foot. He lurches forward, part of his leg hitting you in the face.

He’s face down ass up in the air, once again tasting the dirt underneath him. You don’t miss the opportunity to kick him in the ass and make his face drag across the dirt before falling over completely.

“What the hell…” Looking up at the sky in wonder, his face stings from being rubbed so hard, and he sits up slowly. His vision is swimming, but he can see you holding your nose and tilting your head back, blood dripping on your hands.

“You couldn’t punch me in the face, but at least you managed to do some damage.” Your voice is funny with your nose blocked. Scrambling to his feet, Megumi pulls out a handkerchief he has and holds it out to you.

“Here, use this.” You squint at him, eyeing him up with scrutiny. Taking the cloth from him, you lower your head a little and take your hand away. Megumi watches the cloth quickly become crimson, soaked with your blood.

“Thanks shitty-guro.” Turning your back on him, you shrug your shoulder and begin to walk away. “Don’t expect this back, I don’t want you harvesting my DNA to make some weird sex doll clone.” Your words make him chuckle despite the harsh tone you gave them. Megumi stays where he is for a little bit to collect himself before taking a break himself, watching you laugh at seeing Nobara swung around by Panda.

First confession

Fushiguro Megumi had to be completely psycho, because after that training day his mind runs even more rampant with thoughts of you

You stop avoiding him as much now, you still don’t speak directly to him most of the time but if you have to you take the seat next to him if it’s the only one available

But Megumi doesn’t get to fantasize about you as much anymore since you’ve gone ahead and graduated and left him behind(how rude)

Now that he’s in his third year, he’s better at controlling his emotions and whatnot

So when you come around to the school to chat with Gojo or he sees you on missions, he doesn’t stare like he used to and he can have a barely decent conversation with you

And for some increasingly annoying reason, you and Itadori have taken a great liking to each other

It’s like a sibling relationship, Itadori looks at you with sparkling eyes and calls you ‘big sis (Y/N)’, the two of you text each other quite frequently and you’re always willing to put an arm around his shoulder when the two of you are hanging out

“You what?” Megumi stops dead in his tracks in the dorm building hall, utterly stunned by what Itadori just said.

“Hm, you didn’t hear me? I said I have a crush on big sis (Y/N), I want to confess to her.” Itadori says it so plainly that it sounds simple enough. And it really is, he knows Itadori won’t beat around the bush with this, and that’s what makes it that much worse.

“You can’t.” Megumi says before he can help himself.

“Why not?” Now Itadori is looking at him in confusion.

“Be-because I-” It’s too embarrassing to admit outloud. He hasn’t told anyone about his crush on you, it was a secret he’d take to the grave. But that doesn’t mean other people didn’t take notice, he could tell people knew(everyone knew) but they never brought it up.

“Don’t tell me you like big sis too!” With a gasp, Itadori narrows his eyes at Megumi. With a burning face, Megumi nods yes, shame washing over him. “You can’t, she doesn’t even like you.”

“I know!” Throwing his head back, Megumi slams his forehead into the nearest wall and groans loudly. “Believe me, I know.”

“Seriously, this is what you called me here for, Kugisaki?” A fit of giggles erupts behind him and Megumi whips his head to the side, mouth wide open in shock at seeing you and Nobara behind him, a disgusted look on your face while Nobara is laughing.

“Mhmm!” She’s busy trying to hold her laughter in and failing at it.

“Big sis!” Itadori waltzes right up to you and hugs you, receiving a few firm pats on the back. “I don’t really like you like that, Nobara just wanted to see if Fushiguro would admit to his crush on you or not.”

“Don’t worry, I caught on.” Ruffling his hair, you release him from the hug. Sauntering up to Megumi, you flick him in the forehead. “I always knew you were a freak, a little pain freak.” Flicking him again, you sigh and take a step back. “Well since I’m here let’s watch a movie or something, give ol’ shitty-guro a break for once, looks like he needs one.”

“Awesome!” Itadori is already rushing to prepare his room for guests.

“Big sis, will you order takeout from that one place?” Nobara asks, grabbing your hand excitedly.

“Geez, you guys are gonna bleed me dry!” You gripe, and then a sick smile crosses your face. “Good thing I kept Gojos credit card info from the last time he made me order food.”

“Woo!” Bouncing on her heels, Nobara is already rattling off the things she wants to order.

“Let’s go shitty-guro.” Catching him by the collar, you drag him down the hall and to Itadori’s room.

First date

After accidentally confessing, Fushiguro actually feels better now that you know

You don’t immediately start to treat him differently, but the edge in your voice when you speak to him is softer now, less defensive than it used to be

And he was finally able to explain that all those years ago, he had been staring at you because he really did think you were pretty

There’s no time that you hang out together just the two of you, Itadori and Nobara are always around chirping about ‘big sis (Y/N)’ and hanging around

It’s only when there’s an ‘accidental’ mixup in schedules and the both of you end up together at korean bbq, conveniently with Itadori and Nobara both not answering their phones

“Do those idiots really think I don’t know what they’re doing?” You huff across the table, arms crossed and eyes scanning the room. Leaning back in your chair, you can see Megumi pointedly avoiding looking at you.

“We can go if you want.” He says, eyes still trained on the barbecue in the middle of the table. You sigh heavily and Megumi closes his eyes, ready for you to leave almost immediately.

“Nah it’s whatever, we’re here now might as well make the most of it.” Picking up a menu, you point at him with it. “Order whatever you want, big sis (Y/N) will pay for it.”

“Y-you’re not my big sis.” Megumi mumbles as he picks up his menu, instantly regretting what he said.

“No? Then what am I to you?” Your smirk tells him all he needs to know. You want to hear him say it again, confess his feelings and blush like an idiot. And with the way his cheeks were currently burning, you were already halfway there.

“You know what I mean.”

“Hm? I don’t think I do.” Now planting your elbows on the table, you grinned like a fool. “What are you saying, shitty-guro? Do you want me to be more than that?” If you weren’t in public, Megumi would have yelled from embarrassment. But he didn’t get the chance to do anything, as there were two guys approaching your table.

“Can I help you?” Your smile instantly dropped, expression turning as cold as ice as you glared at the two of them. They looked closer to your age, maybe a few years older, with more muscles than Megumi could ever hope to pack onto his lean frame.

“We saw you from our table and were wondering if you wanted to join us? We got plenty of booze and food.” Their attempts at picking you up were laughable, and you did just that, letting out a snort and waving them away.

“Not interested.” Flipping a page on your menu, you go to point at something and talk to Megumi when one of them puts a hand on your shoulder.

“C’mon, ditch your little brother and co- fuck!” Snatching their hand off you, you nearly broke their fingers with how hard you bent them backwards.

“Listen you fucking creeps.” Standing up, you twisted the arm of the man that had touched you. “I’m just trying to enjoy this dumb little date, eat some dumb food and then go the fuck home.”

“Okay! Okay!” He sobbed. The whole restaurant was looking at you now, shock written all over their faces.

“It better be okay, because I won’t hesitate to break your fucking kneecaps if you so much as look at either of us.” Pushing the man away, you let out a huff of air and sat back down.

“So…” Megumi muttered as the two men scrambled away.

“What? Don’t tell me you think I went too far, you know I don’t care.”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just…” Wringing his fingers together, Megumi looked at you with a shy grin. “You said we’re on a date?” Your brows shot up in surprise, nearly disappearing into your hairline. That’s right, you’d called it a date. He could see you working over the words you wanted to say, and chuckled when you dropped your head in shame.

“Yeah, maybe I’ve come to like you too. It helps that you stopped being a damn creep and grew up.” Covering your face with your hand, you laughed bashfully. “Yeah, shitty-guro, I got a bit of a crush on you too.” Laughing again, you raised your head and were met with his pink tinged cheeks and shocked mouth.

“Really?” He wasn’t easily stupefied, but hearing you confess to liking him was something he never thought would happen. He didn’t even think you considered him a friend, let alone a love interest.

“Yup.” Taking a drink of your water, you calmed your racing heart. Megumi copied your actions, mouth suddenly feeling dry. “I guess I should stop calling you shitty-guro, huh? Megumi?”

“Ach-” He was instantly choking on his water, spitting some of it out onto the table and his lap as he forced his head down. Nearly falling from his chair, his whole face was scarlet and he felt lightheaded. You’d always referred to him by that mean nickname or just his plain last name. Hearing you say his first name made him panic.

“Jeez maybe I won’t say it if this’ll be your reaction every time.” You teased, throwing napkins at him. While he was busy cleaning up, you ordered for the two of you and handed the menus away.

“No! No, you can keep saying it, I was just surprised.” Coughing out the last remnants of water, Megumi straightened up and wiped the tears from his eyes.

“Alright, Megumi.” Saying his name a little sweeter just to tease him, you thanked the waiter when they brought a couple bottles of soju to the table. “Let’s have fun on this date.”

First kiss

Megumi was sure he had alcohol poisoning that night after getting back to the dorms

Who knew one person could drink so much? He also quickly learned that his tolerance for alcohol was quite low, given the many times he threw up in an alleyway while waiting for Ijichi to come and get him

He didn’t need to worry about you stumbling home, by the time he had left you were already climbing into a cab

The next day, he had the worst - and his first - hangover and was incapacitated the whole day, unable to move unless it was to throw up or drag himself to the bathroom

Nobara and Itadori had to make sure he wasn’t actually dead most of the time

When you texted him and asked if he wanted to join a karaoke session with Itadori and Nobara, he almost said no, remembering how your last hangout ended

But he said yes, not wanting to pass on the opportunity, especially considering that you messaged him first

“Woo, big sis!” Nobara cheers as you and Itadori scream some dumb song you barely know the words to, hanging off each other like drunken fools. And you are, or at least Itadori is. You’d supplied the alcohol, the same as the one you’d drank with Megumi earlier, and it was clear to see that it had an effect on everyone around.

“God I’m so bad at singing!” You laugh loudly and breathlessly once the song is over, collapsing right next to Megumi on the couch. Your head had landed near his and he could feel the heat radiating from your cheeks; you weren’t outright drunk, but definitely tipsy.

“Itadori, we’re doing this song!” Nobara hops up, taking the microphone you’d left on the table and standing with Itadori near the TV screen.

“Megumi, drink up.” Flicking the cup in his hand, you take note that it’s still nearly as full as when you first mixed it for him.

“No thanks, I don’t think I can drink after last time.” You laugh at him, a heavy hand landing on his shoulder at his serious tone.

“Really, I scarred you that badly?” Your forehead lands on your hand and Megumi can feel you shaking with every drunken laugh that you let out. He nods, not that you’re paying attention to see. Carefully, he puts the cup down on the table so you don’t accidentally spill it.

“I thought I was going to die.” He says, and it makes you laugh even harder. Trying to sit up properly, your body feels heavier than before and you don’t nearly use enough strength, and you end up falling onto him. “Oh!” Megumi quickly wraps his arms around you to keep you from rolling off the couch, and part of your leg is on top of his.

“Sorry gumi, guess I’m a little drunker than I thought!” That nickname was new, making Megumi’s face flush with painful heat.

“I-it’s okay.” Curtly nodding, he tries to avoid how close your faces actually are to each other. You’re close enough that he could kiss you without moving too much, your breath fanning across his lips and your forehead nearly bumping into his, your head bobbing as you try to keep yourself upright.

“Gumi, we should kiss right now.” Your statement makes a strangled noise come out of his throat, and Megumi takes a quick look at the other two in the room. They’re busy singing and trying to outdo each other on high notes.

“I-”

“Do you want to?” Planting a firm hand into the couch cushions, you push away from him slightly. “It’s okay if you don’t, I won’t pressure you.” You’re already moving away without giving him time to decide.

“I do!” He nearly shouts, slapping a hand on your shoulder to stop you from moving.

“We can wait, it’s fine.” Nodding to yourself, neither you nor Megumi are ready for his next move. Without thinking, he pushes his lips onto yours, tasting the alcohol still fresh on your tongue. He’s clumsy for his first time, unsure of what to do but closing his eyes all the same.

Your hand comes up to rest on his thigh, pushing yourself closer to him. Your mouth opens slightly, tongue coming out to brush his lips and he opens immediately. He can really taste the alcohol now, feeling like he was getting drunk just from the kiss.

“Woo! Big sis (Y/N)! Big sis (Y/N)!” Nobara and Itadori have stopped singing and are now cheering for you as you make out with their best friend and classmate. Letting them go on for a few more seconds, you pull away laughing.

“Will you two shut up?! You’re killing the mood!”

“We are the mood!” Itadori counters, and he dodges the TV remote you throw at him.

“Yeah, this is a big accomplishment!” Nobara grins. The two of them are swaying on their feet, obviously heavily intoxicated and loving every minute of it.

“God.” Slapping your forehead, you turn back to Megumi. “This is the last time I’m giving you guys liquor.”

#jujutsu kaisen #fushiguro megumi #fushiguro x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen scenarios

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cupcakemolotov · 3 years

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Match My Heart to Yours

Okay, since the Exchange reveals have been pushed back until Thursday (for very, very good reasons) I have decided to post a tiny thing to hopefully tide people over. I do sort of intend to write more on this, but I have been stalled for a few months which means I need to change things up. So here is the first bit, hopefully you all like it!

You can also read it here on A03.

Synopsis: Enzo has an plan. Caroline has some serious doubts, because first all, werewolf, hot or not. Alpha, even. A political marriage to a man with his dimples seems like a terrible idea.

Caroline paused, chopsticks hovering over her container of fried rice. Across from her, Enzo looked relaxed, no real tension visible as he reached for another eggroll. “Excuse me?”

“Gorgeous…”

She narrowed her eyes at his placating tone. “I should have known your offer to pick up dinner two towns over was a bribe. You don’t even like Chinese food. You cannot be serious.”

Her witchy best friend would walk through fire for her, but perfect egg rolls an hour after they’d been picked up should have dinged as an obvious bribe. Though this was not nearly big enough.

“Would I have made the drive if I wasn’t serious?” Enzo asked, sighing when her expression didn’t budge. “You know what I do. What I really do.”

Her gaze dropped to his wrist were a tattoo wound along the bones and tendons, the ink black and red, starkly visible against the olive of his skin. Usually he used the modern advances in makeup to hide what no magic could, because sometimes people were less understanding about this particular quirk of his magic than others. She’d never had a problem with it, but she was human and had no desire for his services.

Caroline speared a piece of shrimp and narrowed her eyes in warning. “I am very aware of what you do with your magic when you aren’t perfecting fireballs and lightning strikes, Enzo. No need to be rude.”

“Care…”

She chewed carefully, giving herself a moment so she didn’t do something stupid like throw the food at him. The wood floors were brand new. “I’m human. No witchy bloodlines for ten generations or more, and definitely not a werewolf. São Paulo proved that. In spades. So, seriously, there is zero reason for your magic to like me for this.”

A faint grimace. São Paulo had not been a good time. Not for anyone.

“You know it doesn’t always work like that,” he said patiently, dunking his egg roll repeatedly into the sweet and sour sauce, his expression wry. “Sometimes my magic has a mind of its own.”

She rolled her eyes. “Enzo, tell me something I don’t know.”

A small laugh escaped him. “True.”

“Have I ever done anything, absolutely anything, that would make you think I’d want to have a matchmaker stick their nosy magic in my life?” Caroline set her chopsticks down and started closing containers, her appetite gone.

A sigh. “No.”

“Damn straight. Isn’t there some kind of ritual involved? Blood magic? The romance novels I read on this subject insisted consent was a factor and blood had to be given willingly, much to the displeasure of several southern mamas.”

He deliberately finished his eggroll, sauce-soggy rice paper and all, chewing methodically. “Normally. This isn’t a… usual situation.”

“Normally?” Sitting back, Caroline waved her hand. “The food buys you an explanation. So start talking.”

Enzo leaned back, chair creaking, and ran a hand through his dark hair. “Look, you’ve been in Europe the last, what? Six months?”

“Eight, and should I be hurt you weren’t counting?”

He snorted. “You spent the last eight months chasing diamonds. Busy enough you even stopped answering texts in a timely manner, so I imagine you haven’t kept up with what’s been going on.”

“Excuse you? What text did I not respond to?”

“Emoji’s are not words, Caroline.”

Caroline pressed her chin to her palm, gaze narrowed. “Stop being old, Enzo. And let’s be clear. It’s not like I was chasing just any diamonds. These were expensive. The kind of expensive we peons can never actually afford to legally own.”

Enzo rolled his eyes. “I’ve seen your rate sheet. You do just fine.”

She grinned at him. “Thank you, I do very good work. But what does my previous job have to do with the completely ridiculous proposal you brought me?”

“Mason died.”

Caroline arched a brow. “Yeah, I saw. That was impossible to miss. International news, all those TV Pundits talking about who would take over as the US Alpha, blah blah politics. Since he had the bad taste to die outside of a challenge fight, I didn’t have time to worry about it.”

Enzo put the plastic lid back on the sweet and sour sauce, his expression unhappy. “That’s the problem. He did die in a challenge fight.”

“Huh?”

He sighed and pushed his chair back. “This is a bit of a complicated story. As nice as these chairs are, something a little more comfortable might not be adverse.”

“You’re not getting any of the beer in my fridge until I’m sure I’m not kicking you out.” She narrowed her eyes. “The odds are not in your favor.”

“Cruel, but I suppose well deserved.” His chin tipped towards his car, expression amused. “Is now a good time to mention the cheesecake in the trunk of my car?”

“Enzo!”

He laughed and sauntered into her living room, flopping his favorite squishy chair. Caroline picked the couch. She motioned for him to start talking, and he slouched a little further down.

“Look, a lot of this isn’t common knowledge, alright?” Enzo grimaced. “Though it should be and I’m not sure how much longer they are going to manage to keep a lid on how badly the Council screwed this up.”

“Cover up?”

“Among other problems.”

“Mason was their darling.” And, she knew, some factions had whispered, their pawn. She reached up and shoved her bangs back to hide her wince. “Losing a wolf so pro-witch would have been a blow. Losing the top Alpha who was also pro-witch is a political travesty.”

“Political travesty or not, Mason’s dead, and they’re going to have to deal with the new Alpha. He isn’t known for his tolerance.”

“Most werewolves are suspicious of magic,” Caroline pointed out, curling one leg underneath her. “Can’t really blame ‘em, with how they ended up as werewolves. Vengeance, magical curse. That sort of thing tends to sour peoples opinions, and then you know centuries later, they really improved things with their required silver legislation.”

“Yeah, you’re not wrong, but that’s not the kind of tolerance I am talking about.” He leaned back against the chair, and lifted his foot towards the coffee table, pausing, gaze darting towards her narrowed eyes. His foot thumped back against the floor. “The short version is that Mason was challenged, he lost, and the Witch’s Council, for lack of better words, bungled the announcement.”

“How do you bungle an announcement? Challengers have official channels they have to go through and everything.” She pointed at the TV. “They’ve even started wanting to televise the damn things, like it’s some kind of wrestling bout and not a fight to the death.”

Enzo rubbed a hand down his face. “From everything that I’ve been able to tell, Mason just… didn’t expect to lose.”

“That makes no sense. Mason wasn’t young, even by werewolf standards,” Caroline said slowly. “There have been rumors in Europe that he should have been disposed of as much as a century ago. They aren’t really sure why the packs here haven't risen up against him, particularly after the whole issue with his nephew abducting his bride after she’d been paired by the matchmakers to someone else.”

“Tyler Lockwood leads more with his dick than his brains,” Enzo agreed. “And that should have weakened Mason politically, spurring a few challenges. That it didn’t…”

“It’s only been ten years, and that isn’t that long for a werewolf,” Caroline pointed out. “It’s reasonable that the family of the disappointed groom would just now be in a position themselves to pick a fight. Hayley’s family is old blood but not particularly powerful.”

Enzo gave her a dry look. “When do werewolves ever wait to pick fights?”

“When they are going up against the top Alpha in the US and need public opinion behind them. The general public expects a dominance fight or a natural cause of death for all alphas,” she said dryly.

He nodded in approval. “For someone so disparaging of politics earlier, you do have an excellent grasp of the situation.”

Caroline tossed a cushion at him, which he caught with a grin. “Please, my Mom was the Sheriff and Dad, well, you know Dad. Conspiracy theories and hatred of anything that so much whiffed of the unnatural. But none of that explains what actually happened?”

“We think Mason was using magic to win his challenge fights.”

Her lips parted. “But that’s… the packs would riot. Because something like that…”

“It’s something the Witch Council had to be involved in.”

She inhaled sharply. “That would be a disaster.”

“It is a disaster,” Enzo said bitterly. “There have already been two executions, and several investigations are still pending. We’ve managed to convince the new alpha to hold back the public announcement, but he’s losing patience. We need a solid infrastructure of a plan in place, because humans don’t do well with surprises of this kind, and right now we’re barely holding the alliances together.”

“And what?” Caroline asked exasperated. “The remaining Council has decided to hire a matchmaker? They think since the new Alpha is single, they must be in want of a partner? You’re going to announce the change of leadership, the challenge fight, and then announce he agreed to be matchmade?”

“Something like that.”

“Who is going to trust the Council after something like this?” She shoved her hair away from her face. “If I was the Alpha, I wouldn’t touch anything that they touch with a ten foot pole. That includes matchmaking.”

“I wasn’t hired by the Council, though a couple of my… co-workers have taken those contracts.” He seemed to consider his words and then shrugged. “I was hired by Bekah.”

“Rebekah Mikaelson?” She said, brows arching high. “Why is she involved in this? And I thought you two didn't get along. The last time you were in the same room, she lit your precious robes on fire.”

Enzo’s mouth curved into a slow smile full of male satisfaction. “She’s an odd one, but it’s not the worst way I’ve had someone flirt with me.”

“And the time she declared matchmaking the worst magical school in existence and she hoped you did the world a favor and never reproduced?”

“Charming, isn’t she? I don’t think she really likes children in general.” He looked unbothered. “The bit about my magic was just an attempt to be clever. Her insults have gotten better the more she gets to know me. I appreciate her dedication to getting my attention.”

“Yes, and that is what I am going to put on your gravestone. You finally got the attention you always wanted.” Caroline shook her head. “Insults and spells aside, why did she hire you?”

“Because the Witch Council is right, in a way. It’s going to come out that Mason lost a challenge fight and the witches tried to cover it up.” Enzo reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. “A werewolf who is newly matched has more appeal than a single one, and it’s not a terrible way to divert the press.”

“Is he worried about appeal? Why are you worried about his appeal?” She threw up her hands. “He killed Mason. He is now unequivocally in charge. Why does appeal matter?”

“We need stability.” Enzo’s face went grave. “We can’t afford a year of dominance fights when we’re already struggling with sorting through Mason’s people for traitors. Announcing a match buys us time.”

Caroline froze. “You want the year truce.”

“We need that year, Gorgeous. I’m not sure we’ll survive without it. Pairing off the new alpha? It’s the only way we’re going to get it.”

“And you want me to marry him? Why?”

“Why not you? You’re smart, resourceful, and not bad on the eyes. That you're from a small town will add to your appeal. Small town girl meets werewolf Alpha, and it’s a match. People will love you.”

“I’m a Finder, Enzo. That’s not exactly the most politically correct of jobs.” Her gaze narrowed. “Am I even going to be able to keep working if I agree to this?”

“Once things stabilize, sure, why not?”

“You’re really selling this.”

Enzo shrugged. “You know that one of the true weaknesses of Mason’s was that he refused to find a mate or even attempt a match.”

There had seemingly been a good reason for that. Werewolves were blessed with supernatural strength, a lifespan that more than tripled a normal human’s, and were highly territorial. Most of the time, those instincts could be driven towards their pack and maintaining the careful balance that the world existed in. A werewolf in love was a dangerous creature. Werewolves fighting over their lovers more so.

It was why Enzo’s magic existed.

“Uh huh,” Caroline drawled, unconvinced. “You're really going to tell an Alpha he can’t claim what’s his unless he agrees to a match, the very thing the last alpha decried as unnecessary. How’s that going? I bet not well.”

“The sooner you say yes, the better, then.”

She glowered at him, but he looked unrepentant.

“Seriously Enzo, matchmaking magic or not, this cannot be your best plan. I cannot be the absolute best idea you have for this.”

“Why not?” He leaned back. “From where I’m sitting, it’s a fantastic plan.”

Caroline’s jaw dropped and she stared at him. He was serious. She knew that set of his jaw, the glint behind his eyes. Matchmaking wasn’t a science, it was magic. A fail safe, a terrible and beautiful promise: that somewhere out there, somewhere, maybe, a soulmate existed. And if you were lucky enough, maybe magic would find them for you.

“Enzo, seriously this time. Why even ask me? You know I’ve never been interested in matchmaking with a werewolf or witch. I like my life.” She spread her arms to include the house. “What you're asking me to do, asking of me, it changes everything. Why?”

He was quiet for several moments, his gaze unfocused. When he spoke, his voice was strangely serious. “My magic likes the match.”

She considered that, shifting to hug her knees to her chest. She’d been friends with Enzo since she was seventeen years old and she’d dragged his half unconscious body out of a car wreck that should have killed him. In turn, he’d been there for her when her mom died and her dad disappeared. He’d helped her get established in her career of choice, even though he’d been disapproving of the reasons why she’d chosen to go into it.

She trusted him.

Enzo liked to hide what he could do because he was so good at what he did, and she’d seen him drunk more than once post-match. His magic was not… unkind, but it wasn’t easy, what it demanded of him. To put two people together, with the intention that they’d make a relationship work for possibly hundreds of years. The weight of success and the pain of failure were both so heavy.

Enzo did not match lightly.

His magic liked the match.

Her stomach flipped as she really considered what that meant. No such thing as soul mates, Enzo always insisted, just the endless probabilities of human lives narrowed to a single red thread between two people. And here, he said, was her chance to see if this probability would work for her.

She couldn’t decide what that made her feel.

“You swear this isn’t about Dad?”

A tip of his head. “While I have no compunction about putting a few hundred werewolves between you and whatever mess he left behind, it’s not about him. You were right. My magic should never have considered you for this. You’ve never wanted to find a match, and honestly, I’ve always liked that about you. And nothing about this is going to be easy. But when Rebekah brought me his blood, all my magic could see was you and the potential you two had together. I could no more deny you the chance to say yes than breathe.”

She groaned under her breath. “This could be a disaster. You know I hate politics, and I’m an only child. I’m terrible at sharing. He’s alpha. Nothing he does is his alone.”

“I know. The circumstances are unusual, so they’ve been willing to negotiate generous terms if things don’t work.” Enzo grinned. “No one wants to trap either of you, not when all parties know that magic isn’t infallible.”

She eyed him. “I don’t like it when you think you’ve got it all figured out.”

A laugh. “Come with me to New York. Give it two years. A year for the truce, a year to fortify whatever weaknesses his enemies attempt to manipulate. At the end, if you want out, no one will stop you. I’ll dissolve the marriage myself. No loopholes.”

Enzo never dissolved marriages. That, more than anything, told her how serious he was about giving her an out. How badly they needed to truce.

“I guess you really do have this all figured out.”

“I wish I did, but we both know that’s impossible with something like this. I can only read the magic, and tell you what I see. But I’ll do everything I can to help you.” He smiled ruefully. “We’ve gotten good at hiding bodies, what’s a few more?”

Caroline wasn’t sure she should have found that comforting, but she did. “And just who am I agreeing to consider marrying?”

Enzo suddenly coughed and stood, a familiar hint of devilment twisting his lips. “Klaus Mikaelson.”

She spluttered. “Klaus Mikaelson? You want me to marry Klaus? He killed Mason?”

His smile widened. “Yes.”

Caroline gawked at him. Before she’d gone to Europe, Klaus Mikaelson had been the third most powerful Alpha. Young, handsome, devastatingly charming, he made people forget just how terrifying he could be with a pair of dimples that raised the blood pressure of every woman past puberty.

He was also Rebekah Mikaelson’s half brother.

Enzo had been entertaining her for years about the Mikaelson sibling dynamic. Klaus had not been spared in those stories, and while she’d never met him, she knew two very important things: he was built on lines that had always, always snagged her attention, and the sharp temper of his wolf, the brutality of his temper, hid a clever, agile mind that made him dangerous to underestimate.

“Enzo!” She protested. “Klaus?”

Sliding his hands in his pockets, he spun towards her door. “Yup.”

“Just where do you think you are going?”

Enzo tossed her a grin over his shoulder. “To get your cheesecake. You didn’t think I lied about that, did you? And you might as well fetch me that beer. We both know I’m not going anywhere until tomorrow, at the earliest.”

Caroline stared at his back as the door clanged behind him, heart hammering in her throat for a hundred reasons she couldn’t explain.

#my fic #klaroline #klaroline fanfic #klaroline drabbles #yeah #this sort of an interesting kind of crack

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queeniecook · 3 years

Text

May 29

I knew this day would be life changing but I had no idea how much so.

I headed to The Vatore Mansion late this afternoon. It took me a bit to prepare myself for what I planned to say.

Naturally, Caleb cut to the chase. What I had planned to say went out the window.

“You have come to a decision?” He asked me, though to me it sounded more like a statement.

“I have.” I said after crossing my arms. I was preparing myself for a fight.

“And?” He asked me. I took in his posture. Never had I see him stand so stiff and proper. Maybe he was preparing himself too.

“It wasn’t an easy choice.” I admitted. It’s true, it wasn’t. I still feel bad about hurting Dakota and I know I’ll miss him, even though we agreed to keep in touch. It won’t be the same.

Caleb nodded and waited for me to continue, much to my surprise.

“I figured out…that while I love Dakota. I’m in love with you.” I admitted softly, uncrossing my arms. I released a breath and it felt like I was finally free somehow.

Caleb was behind me before I realized what he was doing, he softly kissed down my neck and towards my shoulder. I closed my eyes, leaning back against him.

“I am dangerous.” He whispered to me “I have killed.”

My mind went to Ciara, which is not a place my mind likes to go.

“More than once.” He added. It was like he read my mind. He let me go and motioned for me to join him on the couch. “I need to tell you something.”

Caleb seemed nervous, which is not something you see often from him if ever.

“You probably expected me to throw you on the couch and threaten to suck your dry or something.” Caleb said dryly.

“Kind of.” I admitted “Though the idea of you throwing me on this couch…” I trailed off with a raised eyebrow.

“Vera….” Caleb warned, though he briefly had a smirk on his lips “This is important. I have loved someone who is not family twice in my life before you. The first one, she was the one who changed me. I did not realize who she really was until it was too late.” Caleb paused “The second, she was innocent. Good. Different, but good.”

“When I first met her, she was wearing these crazy ice cream cone earrings and sun glasses with a party dress.” Caleb recalled, chuckling briefly. “That caught my attention. It was not for a costume party it was just the way she wanted to dress.”

I nodded though I don’t know if he noticed, he seemed lost in memories.

“We ended up talking for hours that day. She was refreshing. Before that I had made it a point to just hang out with other vampires. While I was on the plasma fruit diet even back then, I did not want to chance hurting someone.” He explained, leaning back into the couch.

I nodded again, showing I was listening. Because I was. I had no idea about any of this. I’ve always known that Caleb knows more about me then I do him. He knew my Mom. I had seen him on and off during my teen years and college years. Also, to be fair. His history is a lot longer than mine. But there’s certain things he keeps to himself.

“After that, we started to hang out. Then we started dating.”

“She was the first person I had dated in a very long time. She trusted me.” He told me before he clenched his jaw shut. I could see regret hit him.

“I did not deserve her trust.” He continued, I could hear the self loathing in his voice “She offered me a drink from her and for some reason, I decided it was a good idea. It was because I wanted to taste her blood so badly. But once I started, I could not stop myself.” Caleb stopped and ran a hand through his hair, which fell right back into place. “A friend of mine at the time had to pry me off her. It was then that I realized what I had done. He took her away because I could not look at what I had done to her.”

I sat there a few moments, thinking over what he had told me. He had killed this woman that he loved. Not on purpose, but it had happened. But somehow, I knew he wouldn’t do it to me.

Call it faith. Call it stupidity. Isn’t love a mixture of both?

I slowly placed my hand on Caleb’s cheek and turned his head towards me, kissing him softly. It explained why he had pushed me away so much. He’s afraid he’s going to repeat his deadly mistake. He was trying to protect both of us.

“Thank you for telling me that.” I told him after climbing into his lap.

Caleb looked at me like he didn’t know what to make of me at first. I thought he might say something, but he remained quiet. He just stared at me.

“I know you’re afraid that might happen again, but it won’t.” I assured him “I believe you’re smart enough to learn from your mistakes. What happened to her was a tragedy.” I told him, while I love him – I can’t sugar coat that for him.

“I killed Ciara.” Caleb reminded me, finally speaking.

I closed my eyes a moment “You thought she had killed me. That’s different.” I reminded him, after opening my eyes to stare him down.

He returned my stare, we sat like that for at least a minute. “If you still want to be with me, I have some conditions.”

I narrowed my eyes at him “Are you freaking serious?”

“Vera….” Caleb started. “We both know I am serious ninety nine percent of the time.”

I huffed, it almost sounded like that was his way of making a joke. “Explain.”

“Number one, I want to court you.” Caleb told me.

I opened my mouth to reply…

He cut me off, though I didn’t mind that much. Now that I think about it, it’s actually pretty sweet that he wants to court me. I didn’t get to find out his other conditions, because he changed the subject by asking me to look at the stars with him.

Even though Forgotten Hollow is unusually dark most of the time, it does have a beauty to it.

We laid on the ground together, looking at the stars and clouds. I’m not sure what the future has in store for us, but I know laying there with him felt right. I felt like I belong next to him.

I ended up getting cold. He told me it was late and sent me off with a goodbye kiss. I didn’t want to leave, but I do have to work tomorrow.

As I was heading to my car, I got a very unexpected phone call…

This day has certainly been filled with the unexpected. I had expected Caleb to fight me tooth and nail when I told him my choice. Instead he told me why he had pushed me away. I can’t wait to see him again, to see what he has in mind for this whole courting thing. I just don’t know how to tell him about the phone call because I don’t even know what my decision is. I just know it could have a huge impact on my future.

#ts 4 story #thegrantlegacy #ts 4 legacy #generation 2 #veragrant #caleb vatore #sims 4 story #ts 4 #thesims 4 #mysterywoman

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sentakushimasu · 3 years

Text

if i can't taste your lips just let me taste blood

pairing: bakugou katsuki/kirishima eijirou summary: work studies are meant to be educational, not fatal, but bakugou and kirishima are trapped with a growing puddle of blood and no way to get out genre: hurt/comfort, whump word count: 2.6k warnings: blood, hospitals, bakugou trying to articulate emotions title from: we are the dirt - it's never enough AO3

When Kirishima came to it was with a lot of confusion and pain. The first thing he noticed was the searing pain emanating from his abdomen that blurred and subdued his other senses. The second thing he noticed was that it was really dark.

Dark to the point where he wasn’t sure if he was opening his eyes at all, unable to figure out where the hell he was or how he got there.

The pain, however, was very clearly not a fixture of his foggy and disoriented brain. It kept getting worse, the burning sensation reaching all the way down to his feet. In the haze of pain he couldn’t pinpoint any actual injury, only able to tell that there was something really heavy pressing down on his midsection.

The whine he let out was involuntary, but if he was alone he was going to make as many pathetic noises as he wanted.

Only, he wasn’t alone.

“Kirishima? Kirishima, are you awake?”

That was Bakugou’s voice, but Bakugou never called him by his name, and especially not with the worry that currently saturated his tone.

Kirishima grumbled and tried to push the weight off him. It was so heavy, borderline crushing him but he couldn’t get it to move. What he assumed were Bakugou’s hands swatted his away from whatever was pinning him down.

“Fucking hell, would you stop that?”

Kirishima squirmed again, trying desperately to get even a little bit of the weight off him. “There’s something on top of me-”

“Yeah, that’s me. You’re bleeding.”

“Hmm? Sorry,” Kirishima floundered until his fingers connected with Bakugou’s wrist, looping around the limb. “You can stop, I’m alright.”

“What the fuck? No. You’re fucking bleeding everywhere.”

Bakugou’s face came slightly more into focus as Kirishima’s eyes adjusted to the darkness. He kept looking between Kirishima’s abdomen and his face. He looked worried, and if Kirishima didn’t value his life he would dare say that Bakugou was scared. He was still in his hero gear, the stupid theatric spikes framing his head, a distinct trail of blood marring his features as it trailed down his face from his hairline.

“Are you hurt?” Kirishima couldn’t help but ask.

“What? No.”

“You’re bleeding,” Kirishima supplied helpfully.

Bakugou narrowed his eyes and turned back to the wound, applying more pressure. “Not as much as you.”

Swallowing the whine in the back of his throat, Kirishima decided to actually start a conversation with his friend. He had no idea how long they would be there and he wasn’t into spending that uncertain length of time in tense silence with Bakugou. “What happened?”

“Work study. Big villain attack so Endeavour sent us out as backup. One of ‘em cornered you in here so I came to tell ‘em to fuck off but you were on the ground and when I exploded the asshole, the fucking ceiling caved in.”

“At least I’m not stuck in here by myself, hmm? That would be unfortunate.”

It was supposed to have been a joke, something to lighten the mood between them but Bakugou’s expression remained firm as he offered no reply.

“How bad is it?”

Bakugou paused, the silence hanging heavily between them. “It’s fine, you’re gonna be fine.”

Kirishima just hummed. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Dark spots peppered his vision and he was beginning to realise how tired he felt. He knew Bakugou was fighting a losing battle.

“I’m not fucking lying, okay? You’re going to be fine.”

“It’s okay, Bakugou. Can I just ask you to do something before I die?”

“You’re not going to die, you asshole. Fat Gum is going to come for you, you know he’d never leave you here.”

The exhaustion was creeping in with the tingling sensation in his arms and legs. He was so cold. He had half a mind to ask Bakugou to set off some explosions and hopefully warm the air. But they were trapped with potentially limited oxygen and Bakugou was too smart to ever risk that. “Is he going to be fast enough? You said there was a villain, he’s probably too busy.”

“Shut up!” Bakugou snapped, his expression and tone immediately softening as the harshness registered. “You’re not dying today. Or tomorrow. Or any day that I’m alive to see. I won't let you.”

Kirishima closed his eyes, letting himself imagine what it would be like to die with Bakugou by his side. A cruel part of his chest tightened as he imagined asking Bakugou to hold him before he passed out.

The taste of blissful unconsciousness lay heavy on the back of his tongue as he spoke. “Will you stay? I don’t wanna go alone.”

“You’re not going fucking anywhere, and I’m not gonna leave you.”

“I think I’m dying, Katsu.”

Kirishima could see the way Bakugou flinched at the use of the nickname. He would have apologised for being so informal but he was tired and he didn’t have the energy to be sorry for trying to feel close to Bakugou in his last moments.

Perhaps the reaction had been to the idea of Kirishima dying, but that seemed less likely. Bakugou was persistent in reminding everyone that he didn’t care about anything or anyone other than becoming number one. Kirishima had always admired his determination but right now he just wanted to pretend that Bakugou cared about him.

Falling in love with Bakugou Katsuki was probably the dumbest decision of Kirishima’s life but he would never live to regret it. Not while Bakugou stayed with him, trying to staunch the flow of blood from a wound that was likely severe enough to render Bakugou’s efforts useless.

The older boy didn’t look at him. “You’re just delirious from the blood loss, you’ll be okay.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Because you’re fucking bleeding out!”

“Yeah,” Kirishima mumbled with the limited energy he had left, “but why is it suddenly a big deal? You've said repeatedly that you don’t care about anyone else.”

“I lied,” Bakugou hissed through his teeth, his jaw clenched with such force that Kirishima was worried the bone would shatter under the pressure.

Kirishima’s eyebrows pinched together in confusion. Well that made no sense.“Why would you lie?”

“Because I love you, goddamnit! So you’re going to stay awake and we’re going to get out of this and go on a date or some shit, but we can only do that if you stay awake, okay?”

Oh. Kirishima tried to speak, but his tongue felt like a lead weight in his mouth that he couldn’t lift no matter how hard he tried. The fog was pressing in on him much harder now.

Bakugou’s voice was muffled by the fog as he spoke again. “Fucking say something. I just confessed my feelings for you, you don’t get to fucking ignore me now.”

Kirishima was aware that he should be worried by the way it was taking more and more of his energy to keep his eyes open, but he couldn’t find the strength to care about anything other than the fact that Bakugou just said he loves him.

“Kirishima?”

“No- No, fuck, no, Kirishima you have to keep your eyes open!” Kirishima hadn’t even noticed they’d fallen shut, but he couldn’t seem to open them again, despite how much he wanted to stare into Bakugou’s red eyes forever.

Kirishima could feel something tapping on his cheek, shaking his shoulder. Bakugou’s voice was so broken and raw when he spoke his plea. “Kiri, please.”

That’s weird, Bakugou never says please.

As the last shreds of consciousness left him, Kirishima swore he could hear muffled yelling somewhere close to his head, he couldn’t make out the words.

But it didn’t hurt anymore.

Kirishima didn’t expect to wake up.

It was as simple as that.

He had been bleeding badly enough that Bakugou hadn’t even let him look, and had seemed genuinely worried and afraid for his friend’s wellbeing. So at that point, waking up was a feat on its own.

Waking up without being in excruciating pain was something else entirely. He just felt floaty and not real. But he definitely wasn’t dead because he was uncomfortable and the lights behind his close eyelids were way too bright.

“I would try to send you back to the dorms but I know you won’t listen to me even if I erase your quirk and drag you kicking and screaming out of here,” Aizawa’s gruff voice said from a place Kirishima couldn’t pinpoint. There was a lot of aural input that just dissolved into directionless static.

“I’m not leaving him.”

That was Bakugou’s voice, with its hard edge and underlying fire. It cut through the haze of Kirishima’s lingering unconsciousness, it didn’t have the same fuzzy edge to the syllables that Aizawa’s voice had.

Aizawa must have clicked his tongue before speaking again in his monotonous drawl. “You need to rest too. That concussion isn’t going to go away on its own.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Bakugou bit back.

“Then, pray tell, what matters more than your health?”

“He does.”

He wanted to fight against the stupor, to reach out and smack Bakugou upside the head. His friend was concussed, and chose not to rest, in favour of keeping a bedside vigil. At this point, it was the only thing that was convincing Kirishima that he didn’t hallucinate what Bakugou said before he passed out.

Not that it made much sense.

“Kirishima would want you to take care of yourself.” Kirishima is going to shake Aizawa’s hand the second he can muster up the energy to do so.

“Kirishima also wanted to die of blood loss and traumatise me instead of just staying awake, so I’m not going to listen to what that asshole wants.”

“You know as well as I do that the doctor said he probably won’t be coherent until tomorrow morning even if he does wake up tonight. I can drive you back to the dorm and pick you up before visiting hours.”

Kirishima could practically hear Bakugou shaking his head. “I’m not leaving him alone.”

“He won’t be alone. Fat Gum and I will be here all night.”

Bakugou’s next words were haunted, hollowed out to fit an emotion Kirishima had never heard from the older boy. “He asked me to stay with him.”

“And you did, you saved his life,” a third voice added. Kirishima was cognizant enough to be able to recognise it as being his mentor.

“Go to bed, Bakugou,” Kirishima mumbled, scrunching his eyes up tightly as consciousness fully came back to him. He wished someone would turn the light off.

“Kirishima?” There was too much noise in that moment for Kirishima to figure out who had spoken, but he suspected that all of them had something to say about his return to wakefulness.

He tried to lift his hand, hoping to cover his eyes from the bright lights of what was undoubtedly a hospital room, only to find it pinned in place.

Opening his eyes to the onslaught of light revealed that his hand was being firmly held in Bakugou’s. Okay, forget his previous claims, he was definitely dead. Or, at the very least, having the best dream of his life.

Kirishima groaned. “You guys are loud.”

“Sorry, kid,” Aizawa said in his usual grumble. His chair was the furthest away from Kirishima, sitting all the way in the corner of the room. He looked the same amount of disheveled as he usually did but his posture held a weird tension that Kirishima wasn’t sure he had ever seen before.

“How are you feeling?” Fat Gum asked, he was out of his hero suit which, to Kirishima, looked very odd.

“Pretty okay, all things considered,” Kirishima said, directing his gaze towards his friend.

Bakugou was the most noticeably different. His hair was scruffy and matted with blood, a stark white rectangle of gauze taped to his forehead, a few little strips holding a cut on his eyebrow together. He didn’t speak, but he didn’t let go of Kirishima’s hand either.

Feeling particularly spontaneous, probably due to the bucket full of pain meds that were undoubtedly currently in his system, Kirishima gave Bakugou’s hand an experimental squeeze.

Bakugou stiffened but the tension quickly left his body as he squeezed back, turning to meet Kirishima’s eyes and give him a soft smile.

Their exchange was silent but they said all they needed to.

I heard you.

I love you too.

Kirishima tried to adjust himself, to get a better look at Bakugou’s injuries. Only to promptly collapse back onto the hospital bed as pain blasted through all of his senses.

“Idiot,” Bakugou hissed.

“Take it easy,” Fat Gum said, “you were in surgery for a long time, you don’t need to be pushing yourself.”

Still trying to breathe through the pain, Kirishima opened one eye to look at the pro hero.

“Surgery?” he managed to grit out from between his clenched teeth.

Fat Gum’s eyes softened as he looked at his mentee. “We found you both not long after you lost consciousness, but you were in rough shape. You’re going to need to take it easy for a while.”

Kirishima groaned. “That sounds boring.”

“Not as boring as an extended recovery period because you refused to take care of yourself,” Aizawa chided.

“True,” Kirishima said. “What time is it?”

Fat Gum was the one to speak this time. Bakugou stayed remarkably silent. “A little past midnight, you spent six hours in surgery and we’ve been waiting for you to wake up for about two hours now.”

“And Bakugou isn’t in bed?”

“Nope. We tried but he won’t budge. Better to let it happen at this point.”

Kirishima rolled his head to the other side, narrowing his eyes at Bakugou and the older boy’s stony expression. “Go to sleep.”

Bakugou met his gaze with his usual stubborn fire. “You first.”

“If you stay, will you sleep?”

Bakugou nodded.

“Aizawa-sensei, can he stay?”

Kirishima had expected Aizawa to argue, but he was just met with a soft “okay”.

Whether it was the cocktail of medication or the trauma his body had suffered, tiredness hit Kirishima like a wave. As his blinking slowed down, he swore he saw a soft smile grace Bakugou’s lips before his other hand reached up to brush Kirishima’s hair out of his face.

“Goodnight, Kirishima.”

Kirishima just hummed, too tired to speak.

Kirishima woke up the next morning with Bakugou wrapped around his arm that was free of tubes and wires, snoring softly.

Carefully picking up his other hand and ignoring the presence of the IV in the crook of his elbow, he began to thread his fingers through Bakugou’s messy hair. The older boy didn’t stir, a true testament to how exhausted he really was, especially considering on any other day Kirishima could breathe sideways and Bakugou would all but leap to his feet.

Instead, Bakugou’s hold just tightened slightly as he mumbled something in his sleep.

A quick glance around the room told Kirishima that Aizawa was asleep in his chair in the corner, his face buried in his capture scarf, surprisingly sans his usual yellow sleeping bag. Fat Gum was nowhere to be seen but judging by the empty chair with a blanket on the seat and jacket draped over the back, he couldn’t be far away.

There was a weird bliss to the quiet atmosphere of the hospital room. The soft morning light filtered in through the window as opposed to the harsh lights of the night before.

The pain meds took away from the discomfort of being in a hospital, and with Bakugou clinging to him like he was the most important thing in the world was something Kirishima could easily be convinced was a dream, a fantasy conjured by his unconscious mind.

He could get used to this.

#mha #bnha #my hero academia #kiribaku #bakugou x kirishima #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #mha fanfiction #mha fic #bnha fic #bnha fanfiction #kiribaku fanfic #max.doc #boku no hero academia

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bakugoukatsukiswife · 4 years

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Buy Your Love

A/N: So this is me ATTEMPTING to write about having sex with Hawks on a fancy ass yacht.. like everyone is thirsting over right now because of that move ‘365 Days’. Personally, I didn’t like the movie at all but the boat scene had me feeling some way cause I was picturing Hawks the whole time. I really wanted to some good smut with Hawks on a boat and HOPEFULLY I did it justice. Idk I kind of feel like I need a cold shower after this so maybe I did good? ALSO I dropped in some Yagami Yato nicknames she does with Hawks, I couldn’t resist. Anyways, enjoy babes!!

Warnings: Hair pulling, spanking, spitting, name calling, dirty talk. Pure smut. 18+.

Words: 2K

To say that you were dating the number two hero Keigo Tamaki, otherwise known as Hawks, was complicated to determine. He would wine and dine you, take you out for scenic flights at night in Japan, make you feel as if you were the only girl in the world. He was smooth with his words, they flowed off his tongue like honey, sweet and enticing to you while his looks were an added bonus. He knew that he was a charmer, he tried his hardest to make you fall for him in the few months you had known him; but you knew you were nothing special to him, you were just another prize to be won in his eyes.

Of course you were, or else you wouldn’t have been given a magazine article by a concerned coworker talking about Hawks and his new ‘girlfriend’ who had gone on a getaway trip recently. It shouldn’t matter, right? You and Hawks weren’t a thing, it’s not like anything would ever happen between you two anyway.

Work had tired you out, you had just gotten out of the shower and you were about to head to bed when you heard a tapping on your balcony window. You sighed as you opened the curtain, meeting eyes with Hawks as he waved at you before you opened the sliding door, allowing him to step in.

“Hey there, baby bird. How was your day?” Hawks asked as he came toward you, mouth twitching downward slightly when you stepped away a bit.

“Shouldn’t you be with your other lady friend?” You questioned him, daring to look up at his face despite the loud pounding of your heart flooding your ears. Hawks quirked a brow at you, his head tilting slightly as he caught sight of the magazine on your dresser before he let out a slight chuckle.

“You’re really going to believe those trashy articles? The hero agency tasked me with keeping an eye on her cause she was a witness in an important case. That’s all that was,” Hawks said, rubbing at his face and you felt guilt encase your heart since you could tell he was being honest. Your heart started to pick up the pace when Hawks’ wings brushed against your back and you realized just how close Hawks really was when he leaned down, his golden-brown eyes serious.

“Besides, there’s no one else I want. You should know this by now, songbird.” Hawks said, the nickname he gave you sending shivers through you. He gently ran his knuckles across your cheek, chuckling. “It’s cute when you’re jealous though,” Hawks said and you bristled at his accusation.

“I’m not jealous! Why would I be jealous?” You asked, crossing your arms as you looked away from Keigo. All he responded with was a chuckle before pulling you closer to him with his wings, making color rise to your face.

“Want to come with me somewhere fun?” Hawks asked, a playful tone to his voice and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Where?” You asked and Hawks tsked.

“Yes or no?” He asked, his eyes hopeful and you sighed.

“Yes,” You answered, and Hawks pulled you close to him before taking off into the night. You clutched tightly to him as he headed towards the ocean and you could see a very big, luxurious yacht on the water. You looked up to look at Hawks and noticed that he had a smirk on his face but before you could say anything to him, he landed perfectly on the deck of the boat.

“Keigo… what is this? This isn’t your yacht is it?” You asked Hawks as he set you down and he feigned a look of hurt as he touched his chest.

“Hey I know I joke, but I make bank too, you know. I am the number two hero.” Hawks said as he watched you walk around the deck, taking in the massive boat. You turned to look back at him and he smiled. “Look, I know you’ve been stressed with work and stuff lately so I thought we could have a small vacation getaway on the ocean. I bought you some clothes and swimsuits so you wouldn’t have to worry about a thing,” Hawks admitted as a blush rose to his cheeks at the way you looked at him with the biggest smile on your face.

“Oh? So this is the fun you were talking about?” You questioned as you came closer to him, eyebrow raised in question.

“Of course, I wanted you to have a stress free week.” Hawks answered simply and you let out an exhale of breath.

“Alright, give me the grand tour then.” You said, and Hawks happily accepted. He showed you the massive den, that had fully leather sofas and chairs with a flat screen TV, the jacuzzi on the front deck as well the bar that occupied the deck too. There were too many rooms to count by the end of it, and Hawks led you to the master bedroom that was fit for a king. Which you guess in Hawks’ case, he kind of was one.

“So this is where you’ll be sleeping,” Hawks said, and you felt your heart clench at the notice he gave you of you both not sleeping in the same room. Yes, you and Hawks had a complex relationship, but you hadn’t slept with him or anything like that yet. It’s not like you were inexperienced or anything, you just didn’t understand why he wanted you of all people. What was so special about you? You felt your legs hit the bed and you fell back, snapping out of your gaze when you realized that Keigo was now hovering above you, his hands on either side of your head as he looked down at you with a small smirk.

“Now, now baby bird… I thought this was supposed to be a stress free week, what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Hawks asked and you felt your breath catch at how close he was, his breath hitting your face, his fingers threading through your hair that was on the bed. “Do you want to sleep with me that bad?”

“N-no. It’s nothing,” you managed to stutter out and Hawks rolled his eyes slightly. Being in this position with Hawks was starting to become too much for you, you were excited to be here, to be with him. To forget about everything for a while, to just soak in his presence that made you feel like you were the only person in the world, that you were actually important to him. But were you? Was he just trying to buy you, buy your feelings? The longer you thought about it, you started to feel anger course through your veins and Hawks noticed that you had a different look in your eyes.

“Keigo…” You started and he stopped his teasing, knowing that you were serious whenever you said his actual name. “Are you… are you trying to buy me? My feelings, I mean.” You managed to say and Hawks leaned back to fully look at you.

“(Y/N)... of course I’m not.” Hawks said and your heart fluttered at the way your name left his lips. That was the first time he had called you by your name, he normally always called you ‘baby bird’, ‘songbird’, or ‘baby girl’. “You make me the happiest I’ve been in a very long time. I… like you a lot, and when I like something, I can go a little overboard with my affections. Being a pro hero has its perks, and I just like to spoil you. You’re the only one I’ve ever cared for this much, so it’s pretty new to me. I-.” Hawks was cut off when your lips met his, his hand automatically tangling in your hair. Your tongue came out to brush against his bottom lip and you heard him moan, his hand tightening in your hair while his other hand gripped at the sheets before he found the willpower to pull away.

“Wait, (Y/N). Are you sure you want to do this?” He asked sincerely and your heart warmed at the way he looked down at you, his golden eyes dark with lust but you could tell he was holding back, for your sake.

“Of course, Keigo,” you said and he smiled before leaning back in, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

“Buckle up, baby bird. I’m going to have so much fun with you,” Hawks mumbled against your lips and you felt a shiver run through you at his words. Hawks hooked his fingers in your jeans before shimming them down, placing you further on the bed before removing your underwear as well and you watched as his eyes lit up at the sight before him. “You look good enough to eat. In fact, I may just take a bite,” Hawks said before diving straight into your cunt, his tongue licking a stripe up to your clit before he nibbled at it with his teeth. A moan escaped your mouth as your hands found his hair, your legs going to rest on his shoulders as Hawks sucked at your essence.

“God, you taste so fucking good,” Hawks groaned, golden eyes looking up at you as your back arched at his tongue develing deep into your folds. He chuckled slightly, the vibrations sending chills through you as Hawks pulled you closer to him, his hands gripping at your thighs. You felt him pause and you looked down to see that he was making sure you were watching him before he pursed his lips, his saliva dripping down onto your clit as he inserted a finger inside you, causing you to tug at his hair as a whine left your lips. You moved your hips slightly, hearing Hawks let out a chuckle as you continued to try and fuck yourself on his finger.

“You want my cock that badly, baby girl? You want me to fuck you with my cock, make you scream my fucking name as you cum for me?” He teased and you could only nod, too embarrassed to say it outloud, but Hawks tsked.

“Yes or no?”

“Yes! Please Keigo! I want you to fuck me, I need you to fuck me so badly. I need your cock inside me,” you begged and you felt as Hawks removed his finger, hearing as his belt unbuckled before the soft thud of his jeans hit the floor. Hawks gave himself a few pumps as he licked your juices off his other hand before he slowly inserted himself into you, a slow string of curses leaving his mouth as he let you adjust to his length. Let’s just say that Hawks had big dick energy, and rightly so.

“Shit, you feel so fucking good. So fucking tight for me,” Hawks said, his voice low as he started to move, his cock brushing against your walls perfectly as you let out a moan.

“Keigo…” you moan out, pleasure coursing through your veins at the way that Hawks was grunting in your ear, his hand tangled in your hair as his thrusts picked up the pace.

“Yeah, say my name (Y/N). I love the way you say my name, shit.” Hawks said, his teeth biting at the supple skin of your neck. His tongue came out to soothe the red marks now on you as he continued to thrust into you, heavy breathing filling the room as Hawks’ thumb ran across your bottom lip, his golden eyes staring down at you. “Open your mouth,” he commanded and you did so without hesitation. He pursed his lips again like earlier and spit into your mouth, his thrusts never slowing down as he took hold of your jaw with his thumb, index and pointer finger.

“You like that? Dirty girl,” Hawks said and you felt heat rush through you at his words, his dirty talking and the way that he was hitting against your g-spot causing you to come dangerously close to releasing. “Are you about to cum? Cum for me, cum all over this cock.”

Like he willed it, you came all over him with a loud moan, your pussy fluttering against his cock and you could hear Hawk grit his teeth as his hips stuttered against yours.

“Fuck, I’m cumming.” Hawks said before his seed filled you up, dripping a bit onto the sheets. He slowly settled down on top of you, still inside of you as you ran your fingers through his hair.

“Keigo?” You started, hearing as he let out a ‘hmmm?’. You slowly flipped over until you were on top of him, taking in the way that his chest moved up and down as he regained his breath, the way that his skin was glistening from the sweat he had worked up, taking in his body that seemed to have been molded by the gods themselves. You took in the way that his golden eyes drank you in, his hands on your hips as he licked at his lips. You leaned in close to him, inhaling sharply when his hips moved upwards slightly.

“I didn’t want us to be done,” you admitted against his lips before moving your hips against his, his moans sounding like music to your ears. You moved your hips faster, relishing in the way that Hawks slapped your ass as he brought your lips to his. You moaned at the way that he bit down at your lip, sucking at it slightly as he brought another slap to your ass.

“You look great riding my cock. This may be my new favorite position, kid.” Hawks said teasingly and you felt another shudder run through you at the way his voice dropped as his eyes took you in. His hands gripped at your hips, fingers digging into the skin as you rocked back and forth as a moan left your mouth at the way that his cock dragged against your walls deliciously. You felt as he moved his hips against yours, his pubic bone giving you friction against your clit. The equal friction caused your head to fall to the side as your tongue lolled out, the pleasure overwhelming you as you came for a second time, crying out Hawks’ name as he held you steady while you rode out your orgasm. Hawks thrust into you with a growl, spilling his seed into you for a second time before you laid down on him, head against his chest as you listened to his heartbeat.

“Get some sleep, baby bird. We have plenty of time on this boat,” Hawks said as he placed a kiss on your temple as his hands ran through your hair.

Needless to say, you guys broke in the jacuzzi and made sure to ‘sunbathe’ on the deck the next day.

#wing hero hawks #hawks fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #bnha x reader #bnha smut #mha fanfic #mha smut #mha fanfiction #mha x reader #mha keigo takami #keigo #keigo x reader #hawks smut #keigo tamaki #keigo tamaki x reader #bnha thirst #mha thirst #hawks thirst

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

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Fire and Light (ao3) - on tumblr: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9

- Chapter 10 -

Nie Mingjue was starting to become accustomed to the routine of the cell.

Wen Ruohan would generally visit the Fire Palace twice weekly, sometimes more if he had had a very bad day and wanted to let off some steam. Nie Mingjue would get visited on at least one of those instances, whether for a short time and a bit of emotional devastation or for a longer and much more physically uncomfortable visit, and sometimes more often if Wen Ruohan was not doing well in war.

Wen Ruohan still enjoyed asking him questions, but Nie Mingjue didn’t think he had to answer them anymore. This was a subject that came up sometimes during some of those longer visits.

The rest of the time, he was left to recover and be bored. He was not given access to his saber – Baxia had been hidden away somewhere, he thought, he could feel that she was safe if unhappy – but his spiritual energy was not restrained, the way some other prisoners were.

He spent a great deal of time meditating. Sometimes, if his physical condition allowed for it, he would practice old techniques, trying to focus on a different muscle each time to try to avoid letting them atrophy. His empty hands bothered him, but he deemed it unlikely that anyone would give him equivalent to a saber something to wield, not even if he asked.

Food was twice a day, usually just a bowl of rice and vegetables that the kitchen would otherwise have thrown away, and it was brought by the same prison guard each time.

Nie Mingjue liked the prison guard.

Possibly it was because he was the only person Nie Mingjue saw on a regular basis, other than Wen Ruohan – Nie Mingjue’s cell was a little ways away from the other prisoners, lest they infect him with something and he die too quickly, although he was still within earshot of all the screams – or possibly it was the prison guard’s pleasant demeanor, friendly and calm like a lake of still water.

They were playing a long-running game of sorts.

Nie Mingjue had guessed that Meng Yao – that was the prison guard’s name – was an outsider, recently joined, and that he had previously spent time in both the Lan and Jin sects. This perspicacity had surprised Meng Yao, drawing his interest, and he had asked, very politely, for Nie Mingjue’s name.

Nie Mingjue had, just as politely, refused to give it.

Meng Yao, surprised yet again, had asked for his reasons.

Nie Mingjue had explained that he wasn’t sure if Wen Ruohan would react badly to other people knowing about him, and it would be a shame for Meng Yao to be murdered while he had yet to achieve whatever it was that he was seeking so strenuously to accomplish.

For some reason, Meng Yao saw this as a challenge.

“Gongzi, I have your dinner,” Meng Yao said. “Would you like me to ask the cook to give you some meat, next time? Just let me know. I would be more than happy to tell her to send more food to…?”

“Certainly,” Nie Mingjue said. “You can tell her that it’s on behalf of the last cell on the right.”

Meng Yao wrinkled his nose at him, and Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes back.

Their normal initial exchange of wits over, Meng Yao gave him the food and supervised him as he ate – a babysitter upon whose head the consequences would fall if Nie Mingjue misbehaved was the condition of giving him chopsticks. Wen Ruohan had a great deal of experience in keeping prisoners alive, and he knew Nie Mingjue’s character quite well.

“I heard that you were giving Sect Leader Wen advice on the war,” Meng Yao said casually as Nie Mingjue tried to guess what pickled vegetable he was eating, since neither taste nor appearance was definitive. “Gongzi must be very well-respected.”

“Did you hear about the part where I told him the best counterstrike would be to shove his troops up his own ass?”

“…and very brave.”

Nie Mingjue chuckled. “And you must be very competent to have made your way up to prominence in two separate sects, especially at such a young age.”

Meng Yao did not want to like him, Nie Mingjue could tell. He did anyway.

It wouldn’t help him if something more important to Meng Yao was at stake, of course – Nie Mingjue had lived too long with Qishan Wen cruelty, selfishness, and ruthlessness to miss seeing it reflected in others – but it was still nice to be liked.

“…how do you know?”

“Was that a direct question?” Nie Mingjue asked. “Be still my heart.”

“This humble servant has observed that gongzi does not answer anything else.”

“Humble,” Nie Mingjue drawled. “Yes, that’s the first thing I think of when I think of you.”

Meng Yao’s eyes were narrowing, though, so he stopped teasing.

“It’s your hair.”

“My – hair?”

Nie Mingjue nodded. “The way you set it. It’s clear that Xichen must have taught you how to arrange the braids personally, which means that you must have gotten fairly high up in the Lan sect – but Sect Leader Wen referred to you as being poached from the Jin sect.”

Meng Yao reached up touch his hair. “…I never made it that high in the Jin sect,” he finally said. “Not even lieutenant.”

“In the middle of a war, with how competent you are? Does Sect Leader Jin have something against you?” A small furrowing of Meng Yao’s brow. “Did you complain that he raped your sister or something?”

A long, slow blink. “Is that a problem he has?”

“Not liking people who try to make him responsible for his actions?” Nie Mingjue snorted. “Yes.”

Meng Yao looked contemplative.

“What are you thinking?” Nie Mingjue asked, finally giving up on the pickled vegetable and handing back the bowl.

“Only that you know a great deal of gossip –”

“Involuntarily, I assure you.”

“– and that you feel comfortable calling Lan-da-gongzi by name, and are familiar enough to know how he personally styles his hair.” Meng Yao smiled. “I’ll figure out who you are yet, gongzi.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Nie Mingjue said. “They’ve probably already forgotten me.”

“This is your fault,” Wen Ruohan murmured in his ear, and Nie Mingjue was too weak to refuse to listen. “You did this – to yourself, to them. Why couldn’t you have just been obedient?”

He didn’t know anymore.

“I’m Sect Leader Jin’s son,” Meng Yao said.

“Your mother must be a genius,” Nie Mingjue replied.

There was a moment of silence – probably Meng Yao staring at him.

It was probably not the response he had been expecting.

“I’ve met Sect Leader Jin,” Nie Mingjue said in explanation. He was lying face-down on the floor of the cell while Meng Yao tended to his wounds; the conversation, he knew, was only to distract him from the sting of the stitches. “He’s cunning, not smart, horribly self-absorbed, and ‘competent’ isn’t the word I’d use for him; he makes do mostly by paying enough to hire good help. Given the contrast with you, it follows that you must have gotten all the good traits from the other side…I hope he didn’t rape her. Sorry about making that joke, earlier. I didn’t realize.”

“You said sister, not mother.”

“Right,” Nie Mingjue said. “I forgot.”

“Anyway, he didn’t have to rape her. He bought her,” Meng Yao said. He was tightening the bandages now and his hands were perfectly steady. Too steady, the way Wen Qing’s were when she was having to control himself. “She was a whore.”

Nie Mingjue got the feeling that Meng Yao was expecting some sort of reaction. He wasn’t sure what, though.

“Okay,” he said. Out of lack of anything better to say, he added, “Was she nice?”

“What type of question is that?” Meng Yao demanded.

He’d picked the wrong reaction again, Nie Mingjue presumed.

“I don’t know,” he said. His eyes were closed and his forehead was pressed against the cool stone. “I don’t really remember my mother. All I know is that she was a rogue cultivator, and tall –”

“I would never have guessed the latter, gongzi.”

“Yeah, yeah. Like I’ve never heard that one before. My father raised me on his own – we don’t believe in using nursemaids to do it.” He exhaled. “I’m forgetting him, too.”

“He died?”

“Sect Leader Wen killed him.” He heard Meng Yao exhale. “I know. I’m not very filial, am I?”

“I don’t think that’s a consideration,” Meng Yao murmured. “Under the circumstances.”

Nie Mingjue didn’t want to talk about it. “So, your mother,” he said. “Was she nice?”

“…does it matter?”

“Why wouldn’t it matter? She’s your mother, isn’t she?”

Meng Yao chuckled. It was not a nice sound. “Most people don’t really care to listen past the part where they find out she’s a whore.”

“I’ve never actually met a whore,” Nie Mingjue confessed. He was starting to drift off again – it was hard to stay awake. “The closest I ever got to even talking about one was when we had to put the fear of brothels into A-Chao. Sect Leader Wen was trying to ruin him.”

“A-Chao?”

“Mm. Like – a little brother, almost. I’ve got a bunch.”

Meng Yao snickered. “Yes, gongzi does seem the type.”

Nie Mingjue smiled into the floor. He knew that tone – it was just the same as A-Chao’s, in fact. “You’re welcome to join in, if you like.”

Meng Yao’s hands stopped moving abruptly.

“Assuming I’m not dead, of course.”

After a moment, Meng Yao’s hands started moving again. They were gentler.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “After a promise like that, I’ll be sure not to let him kill you.”

“Need to get your money’s worth out of me?”

“Of course.” A pause. “Naturally, it would be easier if gongzi would tell me his name…”

Nie Mingjue huffed – like Meng Yao was going to get him that easily.

“No need for such formality, A-Yao,” he said. “Just call me da-ge.”

“You must have some hobbies.”

“Must I?”

“Everyone has hobbies.”

“I collect younger siblings. Does that count?”

“It does not.”

“It’s your fault,” Wen Ruohan crooned as Nie Mingjue’s shrieks split the air. “Your fault. You turned them against me. It’s because of you that I’m going to need to kill them…”

“I don’t think I would have liked you, in the normal course of things,” Meng Yao said conversationally. “I usually find righteous people boring. Most of the time, they’re arrogant hypocrites, as rigid like the stiff pole that must have gotten shoved up their asses at some point. No one looks down on you like the righteous, and usually for stupid reasons, too. For something as petty and as simple as just not being them. Not having their advantages from the moment you were born.”

He paused. Cleared his throat.

“Lan Xichen was the first one I met who wasn’t like that. He really – he’s nice, I think you would put it. Kind. Everything they say about what gentlemen ought to be, he is.”

A brief silence.

“Naïve, though. Almost painfully so. I twisted him around my little finger without even trying…even when I was trying not to.”

Nie Mingjue believed him. Manipulation seemed to come as second nature to Meng Yao, even when he was being sincere. Sometimes, even especially when he was being sincere.

It was a bit like Wen Xu, actually. It was hard to throw off the way you’d been raised.

“At first I thought the problem was with me, that I didn’t appreciate him enough, that I didn’t understand how to have a friendship with a person like that. A good one. Sometimes I thought, well, no, maybe the problem’s with him – he pities me too much to see what I’m really like, and that means he’s deceiving himself, it’s got nothing to do with me. In the end…I don’t know. I don’t think I ever resolved it.”

He sighed. It was a long, low sound, almost whistling in the dead air of the Fire Palace.

“You’re not like Lan Xichen at all. You really are unbending, rigid, inexorable…I ought to despise you. You ought to despise me. I torture people most of the day, you know. I even enjoy it.”

For all his poise, Meng Yao was younger even than Lan Xichen. He shouldn’t be anyone’s prison guard. Shouldn’t be torturing anyone. How could you blame children for doing something that would win them praise?

“It’s this place that makes me like you, I think. It’s just – it’s filthy, here. Disgusting. The more I’m in this prison the worse it gets. The more bad things I do, the more bad things I think. I barely dare recall my better memories, my mother, Lan Xichen. I’m too afraid that the filth and grime of this place will stain their purity even in my thoughts.”

Nie Mingjue didn’t understand, not really - maybe he’d been here so long that the stain had sunk in already, blackening everything it touched. But he tried as much as he could to sympathize.

“And then there’s you. You, all shining steel and stiff unbending morality, the sort of person I hate the most. But when I’m here knee-deep in the muck, trapped in the dark without any hope of surfacing, I look at you and I feel – it’s almost like I can see light again, reflected in you. As if I’m breathing clean air. For the first time in my life, I think I understand why people have ethics. That they’re not some stupid thing made up by someone to fool someone else into voluntarily crippling the hand they’ve been dealt to play.”

That was definitely not what ethics were.

“I don’t know if we’d get along outside this place. Where I’m still me, with all my flaws that make me all the worse, and you’re still you, with all your imperfections that only make you better, but without this place to make us get along. I really don’t know. For once in my life, I don’t have a goal, a target, a scheme. As far as I know, you’re nobody I can use, and keeping you close to me will only tie an anchor to my legs, weigh me down. But even with all that, even if nothing I do works out and it all blows up in my face…I’d still like to find out. Find out if we would get along, if you really would treat me like your little brother even though you know what I’m really like under the smile. Find out if someone like me really can get along with someone like you.”

Nie Mingjue felt Meng Yao squeeze his hand, and wished he could respond in kind.

“So you have to wake up, da-ge. You hear me? You have to wake up.”

“It’s done. They’re gone. And it’s all your fault.”

He lies, Nie Mingjue told himself. He lies, he lies, he lies –

#mdzs #nie mingjue #wen ruohan #jin guangyao #meng yao #my fic #my fics #fire and light

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darkmystress00 · 3 years

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Baby Sitter’s Club - Ch 18

A/N: Hello again! I know it has been a while (though not as long as previously.) But I am *trying* to write the rest of this story as quickly as I can. I appreciate all the patience and understanding.

Trigger warnings: none that I can think of…

Pairing: Misha x Reader

Catch up here!

It was two days after telling West and Maison about your new relationship with Misha before they started to act differently. Nothing bad, thank goodness, but you noticed that they watched you and Misha more when all four of you were together. They would move seats at the table to have you and Misha sitting next to each other, or they asked for more activities that involved all four of you. The first time Misha had shown any overt affection in front of them had sent them into a fit of giggles.

All four of you had cuddled up on the couch to watch a movie. It was after the time you would normally leave, but you didn’t mind. The kids had begged you to stay and tuck them into bed after the movie. It was an easy ‘yes.’

You sat next to Misha, your legs curled up on the couch, with West between you and him, and Maison in his lap. You hadn’t noticed as Misha’s arm had gone up to rest along the back of the couch until it slunk to rest around your shoulders, pulling you in to rest your head on his shoulder. It was a simple gesture and you smiled at how easy it was. You were also surprised at how comfortable you were with it in front of the kids (not that it was a huge display, but it was more than you’d ever done before.) Oh sure, there had been kisses, more like pecks, here and there when you would arrive or before you would leave. A couple hugs had been thrown in the mix as well, but somehow the kids had either never noticed or been in another room.

West had let out a little giggle as you noticed him watching you and his dad cuddling. You’d resisted the urge to move away. Not because you disliked it or were uncomfortable, just because it was new. You weren’t used to it. You felt Misha’s fingers trail over your arm and shoulder in comforting caress and smiled as you relaxed and gave West a little wink.

The movie and gone quickly and as the credits rolled you noticed that both West and Maison were sound asleep in your laps. With a soft smile and a sigh you and Misha each picked up a sleeping body and carried them to their room.

“I should be heading home, it’s late.” You said softly as Misha closed the kids’ bedroom door. He looked up at you and you already knew what he was going to ask.

“You could stay?” He offered. You smiled at him.

“You have no idea how badly I want to say yes…”

“Then say yes.” He offered, his voice low and husky as he slid his hands around you to clasp behind your back.

“Misha, I can’t.” You stretched up to gently kiss his lips. “I want to, believe me, but I’m not at the comfort level of having a sleep over with the kids here.” He nodded and then rested his forehead against yours. “Soon, just give me a little more time.”

“Of course, Y/N.” He gently kissed the tip of your nose. “I’m not trying to push. It’s just hard when you leave. I like having you around. I like spending time with you.”

“I know. I like spending time with you.” Misha’s arms went slack around you before he reached out and took your hand and started walking for the door.

“Y/N, the kids asked to spend tomorrow night with Vic.” You looked at him, his eyes seeming to glitter at the idea currently bouncing around his head. “Would you want to come over and spend some time-just the two of us-after they leave?” It only took a heartbeat for your answer to come to your lips.

“Absolutely.” The smile that lit up Misha’s face made your heart jump in doubletime. He leaned down and kissed you, his warm lips sliding along yours, begging to taste you completely. You sucked his lip into your mouth, gently nibbling on it before soothing it with your tongue. Misha let out a growl and you stifled a giggle.

“I am ten seconds away from hauling you over my shoulder and carrying you to my room caveman-style.” He growled.

“Mmmm, promises.” You teased and he narrowed his eyes at you. “Alright, alright. I’ll be good.” He kissed you one last time before stepping back.

“I planned to take the kids to the park and then Vicki was going to pick them up from here just before lunch time.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, “If you wanted, you could come with us to the park and then just stay after they leave.”

“As much as I would love to go to the park with you guys, I have to go into the office tomorrow and submit travel receipts and do some routine eval papers.” You pouted a little. “I wont be able to get out of there until at least one, maybe two if my current job has left any negative reviews on my evaluation forms.” You grinned at him.

“Oh no.” He feigned concern. “I heard they left the worst review. Half a star. Terrible service. Late with the food. You name it.” You rolled your eyes and swatted his arm lightly.

“I can be here right after.” Your hopeful eyes met his. “Should I have an overnight bag packed?” The heat that filled his eyes threatened to burn you alive.

“Yes, although, I don’t know that you will actually be using anything inside it.”

“Mmm, promises, promises.” You breathed before stretching up to kiss him one last time. “Alright. I need to go before we get into a situation like the kitchen in Vancouver.” The memory of West almost catching you two was still very fresh and strong in your mind. Misha let out a groan but gently released you. “I’ll call you when I’m on my way over?”

“Sounds perfect.” He agreed with a nod.

“Alright, Mish. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.” He rumbled as you stepped out the front door. You felt him watch you until you were safely in your car (not that his neighborhood was unsafe by any means.) The butterflies in your stomach calmed a touch as you turned the key in the ignition and made your way home.

~~~

“Hey, Sylv.” You said as you entered the front office. Your friend beamed up at you.

“Hey, Y/N! God it’s been forever!” She stood up and wrapped you in a big hug. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been great. Glad the traveling is done for at least right now.” She nodded.

“I can imagine. Must be nice to have some off time coming up. Got any plans?”

“Not really. Misha invited me to an award thing with the cast.” Sylvia’s face morphed a little and it made you pause. “What?”

“He invited you as like a friend?” She asked, a suspicious note in her voice. “Because it’s your off time and you’re not supposed to be working. And he signed that NDA and your privacy clause.”

“It wouldn’t be a working thing.” You answered truthfully.

“Is it like a date?” The tone of her voice made you pause. “Please say it’s not a date, Y/N.” When you didn’t answer she sucked in a breath and looked around to see if anyone was listening. “Y/N, I’m not going to rat on you, but if something is going on with Mr. Hot-Single-Dad-Collins, you need to keep it very quiet. It is an extreme breach in protocol to start anything romantic with a client, and you could get fired.” You blinked a few times letting everything sink in.

“So, theoretically,” you started and gave her a look that told her it definitely wasn’t theoretical at all, “if I were to start a romantic relationship with Misha, I would have to either quit working or keep it completely hidden?”

“Well, theoretically, you wouldn’t have to stop working, just stop working with him.” You gave her a very confused look not understanding.

“Why?”

“Because, again this is all theoretical, think about what that looks like...a woman is sleeping with someone who is paying her...what does that sound like?” Horror dawned on your face. “It may not be exactly like being a call girl, but it’s dangerous nonetheless. What is to stop a girl from entering a romantic relationship and then when things go sour she turns around and accuses him of pressuring her into it because he is paying her salary? What’s to stop clients from expecting that kind of added service.”

“But you know I’m not like that…”

“I know, but Y/N,” her voice dropped low so that only you could hear, “you need to be very careful. I wont say anything because I am your friend, but he is a public figure too. He’s got paparazzi around him all the time. If anything happens...keep it behind closed doors until you have decided to end your contract with him. If the higher ups hear about anything...it will cost you your job.” You nodded vigorously and she stared at you. “Does he make you happy?”

“Like you can’t imagine Sylvia.” You breathed. “He’s so good with his kids, and he treats me like I am his top priority. He’s always made me feel like I’m part of the family. He is so amazing and when I’m with him my stomach is filled with butterflies and my heart is in overtime.”

“Good. You deserve to be happy. I will do everything I can to field and screen social media and stories.”

“Thank you Sylv. You really are the best.” You hugged her again. “Alright, I gotta sit down for my eval paperwork and submit my last round of travel receipts. Do I go to the back conference room?”

“Yeah, Trish should be back there soon. She just got back from maternity last week.” You gave her a nod.

“Thank you Sylvia.” When she waved you off you caught her eye. “No, I mean it. Thank you.”

“Of course, Y/N. You deserve the best.” You smiled at her and she winked before you turned and made your way back to the conference room.

~~~

You sat in your car, in Misha’s driveway, staring at the little bag of clothes in your passenger seat. You were an adult, and knew very well what adults did, but staring at the little bag felt a touch like you were doing something naughty. It was taking your relationship to the next level and it was a heady moment. With one deep breath you grabbed the little bag and exited your car. Misha opened the door and smiled at you as you made your way up to the front door and you couldn’t help but smile back. “Hey,” you said as he watched you approach.

“Hey.” He leaned in to kiss you but you dodged. He cast you a confused and slightly hurt look before shutting the door. “Everything ok?”

“Uhm, yeah. Just got some news at my eval. Nothing to worry about though.” You answered before gently stretching up to give him the kiss he wanted. You felt his hands land on your hips before sliding up and around your back.

“Well, good. I have it on good authority that your employer left a glowing review.” He teased before kissing you and you smiled into the kiss.

“Since I’m amazing at my job I wouldn’t expect anything less.” He let out an agreeing noise before sealing your lips in another kiss. His tongue traced your lips before entering your mouth and tangling with your own. You melted into the kiss, your body going languid and hot in his arms. Somehow without you noticing he’d pressed you back a step or two and you felt the solid wood of his front door behind you. You could feel his hardness pressed against you and it sent a zing of excitement through you. You wanted him so bad.

One of his hands slid down your back to gently grab your thigh and haul it up over his hip, pressing his arousal right where you both wanted it most. You let out a whimper as he ground into you. His lips trailed away from your mouth, down your jaw to the spot where your neck met your shoulder. “I made a reservation for us at that little Italian restaurant down the way that you like.” he rumbled into your skin before nipping and kissing you again.

“Oh, Misha,” you panted, “that sounds…” you froze as his words penetrated the thick fog of want you were in. “Wait - no!” you cried. Misha jumped in your arms, freezing and looking at you. “We can’t go out in public.” you pleaded.

“What? Y/N, why?” Concern flicked over his face and you sighed.

“I learned something at my eval meeting today.” His hands gently fell away from you as the mood was thoroughly broken. You sighed. “Before you think anything crazy, I want you to know, I want to go out with you in public. I don’t want to hide this. I mean I’m nervous about what others are going to say, but I want this.” you grabbed his hand gently. “If we go public right now I will lose my job.” Misha jerked back and looked at you.

“What?” He stared at you completely and utterly confused. You let out another heavy sigh and tugged on his hand to move away from the door. You wanted to at least sit down while you explained. You sat on his couch and pulled him to sit next to you.

“So, Sylvia, my friend, and I were talking,” you started, “and she knows about ‘us.’ Or rather she knows you and I are leaning towards there being and ‘us.’” He gave a small, slow nod. “And she told me about a company policy that I’d never heard of before. I’d never considered company policy on the matter before, honestly. You’re the only...I’ve never...this isn’t…” you trailed off and watched as a smile touched his eyes, realizing you were admitting that you’d never developed feelings for or started a relationship with a client before. You were so cute when you were flustered. “Anyway, she told me that company policy is that if a nanny and a client are found in this sort of situation the nanny is fired. No warning. No second chances. Done, and basically blacklisted.” You took a steadying breath, “If we want to go public, we need to terminate our contract.”

“Ok,” he started slowly, “so we do that.” he said it so matter of factly it made you want to laugh.

“Misha, that means I wont be able to be here all the time. That means I wont be going to Vancouver with you anymore. I wont get to see and spend time with the kids, or you, like I do now.”

“Why not?”

“I still need to work.” Realization started to dawn in his eyes. “I don’t want to stop working, but if we’re in a relationship that means I can’t work for you. So I would have to be hired on as a nanny with another family, and while I can opt out of traveling, it would still take up a bunch of my time. We told West and Maison that nothing would change right away.” He paused to think about it.

“No, we need you here.” He agreed. “Couldn’t you leave the agency and just work for me while being with me?” Before the sentence even left his mouth he knew that wasn’t going to work.

“Misha, we are so new, and that is basically asking me to be your live-in girlfriend.” You gave him an awkward smile, “Actually it’s more like being a kept woman.” You shrugged a little, trying to keep your emotions in check. “Imagine if we don’t work out. I’m left with nothing. No job. No support. Nothing to fall back on.” A look of hurt crossed Misha’s face.

“You really don’t think we’re going to work out?” You touched his cheek, “Or that I’d leave you ass out like that if we didn’t?”

“No, I don’t think you’d do that.” You had to give him credit. He and Vicki had ended amicably and had made sure each other were taken care of so no one was hurting at the end. It wasn’t bitter, and you had no doubts he’d make sure you were steady on your own two feet rather than leave you out in the cold. “But I’m a planner. I have to plan for the worst and hope for the best. I jump to the worst case scenario so that I’m prepared for everything. It’s part of what makes me so good at my job.” He gave a nod and then let out a slow sigh.

“Alright. So we don’t go public right now.” You nodded. “But we are going to have to figure out what to do about this. I don’t want to have to hide forever.” You nodded again.

“I don’t either. I know it’s going to be an adjustment with you being famous, but I want that. I just have to figure out what to do with my job.” He nodded and then hugged you.

“Alright.” His hands came up to clasp your jaw in his palms and he looked into your eyes. “You’re right. We need to be smart about this. Slow and steady with the public stuff. When we’re both ready we’ll figure it out.” You smiled at him. “I just…” he let out a pent up breath. ��I don’t know how to say this without sounding sappy, but you make me happy Y/N and I want to show that off to the world. It’s hard to pretend like there isn’t anything between us when we’re in public. But I will do my best to keep my hands to myself.” He grinned mischievously, “At least in public...at least for now.” You grinned back at him.

“Good.” He pulled you to him to kiss you.

“Well, since dinner plans are changing, lets go see what we have that we can make…” you both stood, “or,” he started his eyes trailing over your body, “we could order in and I could eat take out off your body in my bed.” A laugh escaped your throat. “You’re right, that’s a tad messy.” He wrinkled his nose. “Let’s go scour the kitchen then.”

~~~

Misha’s eyes watched you from across the room. No matter how many times he told you not to, there you were, standing at his sink loading his dishwasher while he packed away the leftovers from dinner. To say your earlier conversation had thrown him a curveball would have been an understatement, but honestly it was just enough of a wake up call to keep his head on straight. Yes you’d both decided to be more than just employer and nanny, but he did lead a very public life and you needed to ease into that. This little hiccup would help him to ease you into the public and see if it was something you even liked. If you decided you wanted to stay behind the scenes he’d gladly do that too, so long as he got to have you. Now that he let himself feel the feelings he’d been trying to push away and hide, he wasn’t going to let you get away.

He was telling the truth when he said you made him happy. Having you around made him feel things he hadn’t felt in a long time. You were easy going and everyone loved having you around. Just a look from you could have his heart thumping and his blood heating. Keeping his hands to himself was tough, but now did he really need to anymore?

With that thought he moved quickly and quietly behind you. As you straightened from loading the last dish into the dishwasher you felt Misha behind you and spun around to look at him. The heat and hunger in his eyes had your blood racing and without a second thought you stretched up to kiss him. Your lips met, and parted, as if in a primal dance for dominance but neither of you really cared who would win. You felt his hands grip your legs and lift you up onto the counter, and you pulled him closer to you, circling and trapping him with your legs.

Gently his fingers traced the skin of your stomach before dragging your shirt up off your body and dropping it to the floor. His lips trailed from yours down your neck to your collar bones before settling on the swell of your breast. His deft hands found the clasp of your bra and soon it was laying in a heap on the floor in his kitchen along with your shirt. Electric shocks shot through you as his tongue swirled around first one then the other nipple. You gripped his shoulders, a soft sigh slipping from your mouth as he explored your body. You felt him shift as he moved lower, dragging his tongue along the hem of your pants. “Misha…” you whined as the button popped and the zipper lowered. He stood, his lips going to yours as his fingers dipped into your pants to touch and tease at your clit. The electricity that flowed through your body at his touch had you weak in the knees and your back arched as you gripped the edge of the counter behind you.

He watched your face as he touched you, mesmerized by the way your features morphed and changed as the pleasure moved through you. You were so beautiful. He wanted you. He wanted to taste you, and hear you, and feel you as you took all the pleasure he could give you until neither of you could move any more. His lips captured yours as his fingers circled the tender, swollen bundle of nerves, swallowing your groan. “Y/N…” he groaned as he teased you and rocked his body into yours. He slid his hand under your leg, gripping the rim of the sink with his hand, and hiked it up higher as your breath caught in your throat. He slid his hand lower, his longest finger entering you while his thumb rubbed insistent circles.

Your head was foggy and you felt almost drunk of the pleasure assaulting your senses. You weren’t going to last much longer and you wrenched your lips away, sucking in air as you panted towards the sky. “Yes, Misha.” You whimpered. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.” You practically begged as you felt your body cresting the mountain of pleasure before you. You leaned back, bracing one hand on the counter and gripping his shirt and shoulder with the other. You watched his hand move in and out of you, the skin of his wrist flexing as the cloth of your panties moved with his hand. You dragged your eyes up to his and the heat and hunger in his eyes was enough to have you falling over the edge. Your back arched as you froze and held your breath through the first waves of pleasure.

“Let me hear you, Y/N.” Misha’s gravelly voice begged into your ear. With the next pulse a moan slipped from your lips and you felt Misha shutter while watching you. Your eyes fluttered closed as your body hummed before relaxing against his chest.

“Misha,” you took a breath, “that was...oh my god.” You looked up at him and marveled at the satisfied grin on his face. You could feel him still hard and insistent, pressed up against you. He pulled his hand from your pants, hungry eyes examining the wet glistening on his fingers. You watched with lust filled eyes as he stuck his finger in his mouth and licked it clean. “My turn…” you panted as you reached for the button on his jeans.

“Wait,” Misha stilled your hands with his, “if you touch me right now I wont be able to last, and I want to be inside you when I finish. This is not where I want our first time to be.” He took a steadying breath before letting your leg drop down and scooping you close to him again. You captured his lips with yours before gently pushing him away from the counter and hopping down yourself. Your eyes met his and you took his hand before slowly leading him down the hall to his room. There was so much more you wanted to explore...this was only the beginning.

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#misha x reader #mishaxreader #Misha x You #misha x y/n #misha rpf #bcmasterlist

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maggotbxby · 3 years

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Fire and Ice - Carol Denning x OC/Reader A/B/O Fic

SUMMARY: Sallie Novak, a 19 year old omega, gets sent to litchfield max for attempted murder, and has to survive in a prison that consists of mostly Betas and Alphas.

CHAPTER ONE

Sallie Novak never thought she would end up in prison, but with the unfortunate circumstances that have occurred over the past 2 years of her life, it honestly may be the better option than being at home.

Being an omega, she was told to do the right thing and never the wrong thing, her mother raised her that way. At first, it was okay. Her mother was a strong omega and taught Sallie to control her heats and not get swept up in relationships. She didn’t end up as a pregnant teen, so she didn’t do too bad.

Though when Sallie was 16, her mother met Dan, an ex-military alpha who is the biggest fucking cuntstick on the planet. He actually seemed incredibly nice at first, for the first year of knowing him, actually. He had money and took care of Sallie and her mother who didn’t have much since her father died when she was 12, and her mother worked as a manager at a grocery store.

After Dan and her mother got married, however, the dynamic shifted, Dan seemed to turn into a different person. He got lazy and grew a dependence for alcohol, and they quickly discovered that he got violent when he drank. He began to get very abusive towards Sallie’s mother, and it sent her into a highly depressive state. She lost her job and hardly left her bedroom most days.

Sallie was unsure why or how Dan’s attention got shifted to her instead of her mother, but it did. Sallie would come home from school and Dan would be drunk, and he would find ridiculous excuses to be pissed off at her; she didn’t do the dishes before she left, or she forgot to feed the dog, anything. On the good days, he would scream at her and she’d shut herself in her room and cry, on the bad days, she would be in her bedroom with belt marks, scrapes, and bruises all over her body.

He never took interest in her sexually, as far as she knew. She took suppressants and wore scent blockers so he could never smell her, but he did make occasional comments about her figure and slapped her ass a couple times, so, he wasn’t innocent in that regard either.

Eventually, she had enough of the abuse, she couldn't take it anymore, so one day, when she was bringing him coffee (Which he made her do, every morning), she slipped rat poison in it. But the motherfucker caught on, he could taste it in his fucking coffee, and he wasted no time calling the police.

That’s when she knew she was fucked.

So Sallie ended up in prison. Granted, the time for her was shorter than most, but as an omega, she knew there wouldn’t be many like her. And there weren’t. Omegas didn’t commit crimes and go to jail like alphas do. They stayed pretty and did little offenses that very rarely got them in trouble. Omegas were pure little creatures, even though a lot of them had a nasty sex life, they always kept things clean on the outside and blamed others for their faults like the prissy little bitches they were. Well, Sallie never did that. She took the blame, and though she tried and tried to report Dan’s abusive behaviour, her mother, always denied it, and it was the word of an attempted murderer against that of a woman with a clean record and a veteran.

So here she was, litchfield fucking Max. Walking in with cuffs on her hands, glaring back at everyone who looked at her. The prison provided scent blockers for omegas, and hormone suppressants, but that didn’t make Sallie any less nervous, the suppressants weren’t the same ones Sallie was used to taking, and the blockers weren’t very strong.

They stopped at a gate, and next to it was a large “C” on the wall. “Welcome to C-Block” the guard said as the gate opened and they walked in.

Even with the blockers, she noticed some alphas got a whiff of her smell as she walked by, causing some to lick their lips as if they were a treat, palm at themselves with obvious sexual frustration, while others bit down on their bottom lip to seem less obvious of their intentions when gazing at her body. She shouldn’t be here. She should be somewhere else with more protection, yet here she was… She didn’t realize she'd be mixed in with alphas, even if there wasn’t that many. Sallie didn’t have a plan for what she was going to do while she was here. She didn’t have a plan on staying safe and keeping herself up in the long run. She had nothing.

She was so fucked.

Practically shoved into her little cell, Sallie found herself back towards the guard who had pushed her in. “So, inmate,” the guard spoke. Helman, was it? “Most of the time Omegas are put into Florida, but since we're short on space there, you'll have to stay here until we find an alternative. There aren’t many alphas here, but there are a couple. That means no making yourself vulnerable; cover your scent as much as you can, or you will be fucked over if one of us isn't here. We can’t be by your side every hour of the day, and the male guards won’t be the most reliable if you accidentally seduce them with your scent.”

Sallie wanted to scoff at the male’s words, staring at him. Her expression clearly showed she was nervous. “My cellmate isn’t an alpha, right?” She asked.

“Obviously not, your cellmate is a beta, one of our most docile inmates. Don't expect any more special treatment just because you're an omega though. You got yourself in this mess, and now there’s no way out. You should have been a good little whore and stayed put instead of going out and doing bad things.”

The guard’s words tore right through Sallie, making her go pale for a moment. The look in his eyes showed that he wasn’t messing around and that he was looking for what many of the inmates were looking for: A hole to fuck.

This was her life now.

“This was the end of your special treatment, Novak. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner will not be taken to you. Dinner is in ten, tomorrow you have orientation after breakfast. Don't be late for it. We have eyes on you, so you have little to worry about,” the guard was smirking. “I would get a head start on getting to dinner.The good trays always get taken by the alphas.”

Sallie breathed shakily, nodding her head slowly.

Keep your head up, Novak. They won't hurt you.

——

“Ooh, look at this new cookie, you don’t look half bad,” a voice jeered at Sallie when she went to get in line for her dinner tray. She couldn’t resist glaring over, seeing a slightly overweight girl with badly bleached hair laughing at her. She was with a group who already had their dinner trays, sitting at a table. Sallie gave the girl a dirty look, but then she noticed a movement behind her.

It was just a tiny movement, a cocking of the head. And yet for a second when Sallie saw her, she forgot how to breath. The woman was staring right at her, eyes narrowed how a predator would watch its prey. Sallie immediately knew this woman was an alpha, not even having to smell her. Sallie’s brain told her to look away but she simply couldn’t. She didn’t know if it was her omega needing this or just deep curiosity, but she kept her gaze, taking in large 80’s glasses and the end of a lollipop that stuck out of her mouth. But then she blinked, and Sallie felt her face flush and the world came rushing back. She quickly looked away and bore her gaze at the food cart, making sure not to look back at the woman.

When she got her food and sat at an empty table, 2 inmates quickly came up and sat on each side of her, their smell flooding her senses; alphas.

“So… what's your name, pretty little omega? Why did you end up in this sickening place? You must have fucked up, bad.”

“Shut the hell up,” Sallie spat.

“Feisty. I like that.” A second prisoner spoke up, grinning towards her. Her hand began to rub Sallie’s thigh, causing her to flinch. “Oh, they were right about omegas… You are sensitive, huh, pretty girl?”

“Leave me the fuck alone…” She growled, nudging her off her thigh. “I don't fuck around like that. Just because I'm an omega doesn't mean I'm not strong.”

“But I think it does… You see, if all of us were to pin you against this table right now, there would be no escape. I think the guards would even join in on the fun! Either that or we would get thrown in the SHU, but none of us give a shit about that. All we care about is that we might be getting a wet hole to fuck…”

“Hey, knock it off.” A woman’s voice rang through, and the two immediately scattered, there was an instant heaviness in the air. The fear the voice instilled in the other alphas made Sallie nervous as fuck. She looked over and realized it was the voice of the woman she saw earlier. She was no longer looking at Sallie, she was now speaking to the girl with the awful hair.

“Oi Gapman, go sit with that cookie. And nobody fuck with her, got it?” A heavy Bronx accent rang out from that girl, she sounded almost annoyed to say what she did.

A few moments later a thin woman with greasy blonde hair came up to Sallie and sat with her. She was an Omega, Sallie could tell simply by her demeanour, and the alpha bite mark on her neck. Knowing she wasn’t the only omega here made her feel a little bit more safe.“Sorry about these guys, they’re awful here to omegas, but in my experience Carol doesn’t tolerate a bunch of horny alphas like Barb does over in D-Block, so you should be fine. Oh, I’m Chapman, uh, Piper.” She said and stuck her hand out.

Sallie shook her hand with a blank expression. “Carol?” She asked

“She runs the gang here in C-Block. Everything goes through her. I haven't been here long, but I’ve seen her gang do some shit, I wouldn’t mess with her. Oh and her fucking right hand is a bitch, Badison’s her name, the one who yelled at me to come over here in the first place.”

“Badison?” Sallie chuckled. “What kind of name is that?”

“I’m not entirely sure, but she’s my cellmate, and it’s torture. Don’t get on her bad side like I did. She’s just a beta, and honestly I think her attitude is to try to overcompensate for her genetics.”

Sallie just nodded and got lost in thought for a moment. She really didn’t care about this ‘Badison’ character. She did care about Carol though… The quick scurrying off from the other alphas made more sense now, they’re all scared of her. Sallie wonders how long she’s been in here for, and what she’s done.

——

About 15 minutes later, Sallie returned to her cell to try and get some rest. Upon entering she saw a short, blue haired girl sitting on the top bunk reading a book.

“Uh, hey, you must be my cellmate. I didn’t see you when I first got assigned. I’m Sallie Novak.”

The girl looked up from her book and grinned, hopping down from her bunk. “Great! They’re finally giving me a cellmate! I’m Jacs Walker, sorry I didn’t see you in admission, I’ve been in medical, caught a shiv in the ribs a couple days ago from a dickhead alpha over in D-Block.”

“Damn, sorry, that had to suck.” Sallie replied, kind of dumbfounded how positive this girl's energy was for just being shivved.

“It’s all good, shit happens, I shouldn’t have been trying to score from them. Anyways, you can have the bottom bunk, and those hooks there.” She pointed at the wall, “I know you’re an omega, but don't worry, I’m not into girls.”

Sallie nodded, not really sure how to respond, and she sat in her bunk. “If you don’t mind, I’m exhausted, I need some rest.”

“Of course, intake day is the worst! I’d know, I’ve been sent here 3 different times. Get some sleep.”

It wasn’t long before she drifted off to sleep with thoughts of large glasses and bright blue eyes…

#carol denning #carol denning x reader #present day carol denning #x reader #fanfic #oitnb #oitnb season 6 #oitnb fanfic #lesbian #abo #abo au #alpha/beta/omega dynamics

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harryspet · 4 years

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little doe [3] peter parker

[WARNINGS] peter parker x named oc, doe is being the cute omega she is, oral sex, A/B/O dynamic, angst, soulmate au

A/N: I finally found the way I would describe this relationship and have decided that Doe is Tarzan and Peter is Jane :)

In which Doe is nesting and Peter is still trying to resist his feelings.

Like reblog and let me know what you think!

word count: 2.3k

Peter was nervous to say the least. He was worried the Doctor somehow would know what he had done. If he knew … what was going to happen yesterday evening then he never would’ve called Pepper. He did the right thing in calling her, Peter thought, but why did he feel so guilty?

He explained to the Doctor what happened the day before minus the part where he gave Doe an orgasm. Doe was still fast asleep in her bed and Peter hadn’t touched her since he carried her there, no matter how badly he wanted.

Peter felt a pang of something as the older man touched her forehead. Jealousy? “She’s still warm but I don't think she has a fever anymore. Whatever happened yesterday, must’ve been a rare case.”

“So she’s okay?” Peter asked. Deep down, he wanted nothing to be wrong so he didn’t have to send Doe back to the labs. Yesterday was stressful but he felt it might be more painful to not have her around.

“The problem with not knowing where she’s from is I have no background information on her kind. I can only treat her as a human with special abilities. We don’t even know the extent of her abilities. She’ll probably sleep for a few more hours and you can call and give an update once she’s awake.”

Peter nodded, a bit relieved. The Doctor began packing his medical bag, “I’ll show you the way out.”

Peter started to feel a bit anxious after the Doctor left so he decided to go out on a swing. Whenever he was prowling the neighborhood, he always found someone in need of his help. Knowing he could do something to help someone always made him feel better.

As Peter landed on his balcony, he let out a tired breath, removing his mask as he stepped into his living room. He had just saved someone from a carjacking, helped someone's grandma carry groceries up the stairs, and finally found the guy who’s been vandalizing those art statues.

Not bothering to change yet, Peter walked to Doe’s room to check on her. When he didn’t find her in her own bed, he completely panicked. He called her name, searching all around the room before he heard a quiet voice.

“Peter?” He turned around and there she was.

“Jesus, how do you do that?” His senses were supposed to be elite yet she could sneak around him. Peter sighed, his heart beating fast. That’s when he noticed that she was wearing his shirt. It was a dark grey one that said ‘The name’s bond. Ionic bond’ and she had her bunny rabbit hanging at her side.

Peter’s eyes narrowed at her, confused. She looked … different. This was the first time Peter saw her actually look tired. He blamed it on the sedative, “I see you’ve found my shirt collection,” Doe was quiet as she looked over Peter’s suit, her small feet padding across the carpet as she approached him, “What’s wrong, Doe?”

He didn’t understand why the first thing she did when she woke up was going to his room and dig out one of his shirts.

She simply wrapped her arms around his torso, resting her head on his chest. He brushed her hair with his fingers, letting her find whatever comfort she wished from him.

Peter had never had to care for someone like this. He had saved the world but he had never been needed in this way.

For the rest of the day, Doe wasn’t very talkative and she refused all the food Peter tried to give her. As he made himself breakfast, she watched from the corner of his eyes as she moved around the living room. She was piling pillows and cushions in the center of the room, her eyes glancing over to the TV every once and awhile. Tangled was her chosen movie today and he was sure he’d watch that at least ten times today.

As Peter walked into the living room with his cup of coffee, he noticed that Doe had disappeared once again. Before he could call for her, she walked into the room carrying a huge stack of his clothes. She threw them onto her pile of pillows and cushions, “You know those aren’t blankets, right?” She went behind him, pushing him forward and encouraging him to sit down.

Peter noticed how she not only had decorated the pallet with his t-shirts but randoms items she had found around the house. He was just the cherry on top. It seemed like organized chaos and she practically growled if he moved anything. He sat beside her as she watched the movie.

Though Peter was a bit confused, he went along with it. It could be because of whatever happened yesterday or a reaction to the suppressants she was on. Whatever made her happy right now, he would do.

As night approached, Peter tried to get Doe to eat something again, “Please eat, Doe,” Peter tried again and the girl frowned, “You’re making Peter sad. And very worried.”

She refused again, only wanting to watch Tangle again.

Peter sighed, defeated.

For the first time in the past few hours, Doe finally spoke, “Peter?” She tapped his shoulder. He was laying down, thinking about what the hell he was going to do when MJ finally showed up. Peter sat up on his elbows and watched her point to the TV, “Why?”

It was the sad moment at the end of the movie where Rapunzel thinks Flynn is dead but her magical tear ends up saving his life. As she realized he was alive, she hugged him and pulled him in for a kiss, “Why do they kiss?” Peter tried to get her to elaborate.

“Kiss?” She pushed her two pointer fingers together.

Peter’s face reddened as he nodded, “Well ..” He cleared his throat awkwardly, “People kiss when they like each other.”

Her eyes were focused on his and for a moment, his eyes wandered to her lips, “Peter not like Doe?”

“Of course I like you, Doe,” Peter said quickly but he wasn’t sure how to explain this, “It’s a different kind of like.”

“Different kind of like?” She repeated and it always amazed him how quickly she learned and pronounced the words, “Doe different kind of like Peter. Peter not different kind of like Doe.”

Peter had girls tell him they were interested in him before. He always rejected people because he thought they only liked him because he was Spiderman. This was different.

“I-” He was at a loss for words and, as his eyes wandered down to her lips again, he was caught off guard when she leaned into him.

Her lips gently pressed into his and Peter’s heart exploded. There wasn’t any movement and Doe quickly pulled away, “Peter like?” Peter held her neck and pulled her in again. He answered with his actions. He moved his lips against hers, hoping she would follow his movement, and she did.

Doe touched his chest and just the feeling her touch had Peter wanting more. Peter wanted what he couldn’t have. What he shouldn’t have. It wasn’t fair how pure she was, who was he to corrupt that? Was it bad that he wanted to?

Peter was the one to pull away, wincing as he realized what he had done, “Peter … I-I,” It was the first time she had spoken in something other than third person, “I different kind of like Peter.”

“Why, Doe?” Peter asked this time.

She pressed a hand over his heart and then pressed a hand against her own chest, “Mine. Peter.. mine.”

Maybe in her world, the heart was a symbol too.

He let her sleep in his bed that night.

Peter woke to Doe sweating against him. Disoriented, Peter turned on the lamp by his nightstand. She was writhing in her sleep, her eyes closed, and Peter realized it was happening again. He touched her and he felt the fire beneath her skin. He didn’t understand how she was sleeping, “Doe,” He tried to shake her shoulders but she only turned her head as if she was trying to get away from the monster in her nightmare.

Peter placed a cautious hand on her waist, his shirt now resting above her navel, and he could fully see her panties. She moaned when he touched her but her eyes were still closed, “Peter,” She whimpered in her sleep, and Peter wanted badly to save her from her nightmare.

Like she did to him the day before, he kissed her neck, leaving lovebites along her skin. She moaned louder, now starting to move against his touch, as he touched her more.

He knew what relieved her heat last time and Peter thought, since she was sleeping, she might not remember what he was about to do. He reached into her panties, touching her as he did before, rubbing circles over her sensitive area.

He was going to take care of her.

He moved over her body, kissing her neck and then moved down to her stomach. She was already soaking wet and Peter wanted nothing more to taste her. He removed her panties, dragging them down her legs, as she continued to whimper his name.

He loved being needed like this. Like she might explode if she didn’t have him.

He set himself between her legs, holding her thighs tightly, as he dipped his tongue between her folds, “Please, please, please,” She moaned something in a foreign language, her hips grinding into him because she was starved for more friction.

She tasted amazing and her moaning only encouraged him further. He used his group on her thighs to hold her in place as he worked his magic. He lapped at her folds, paying special attention to her bulb.

Peter imagined being inside of her, taking her innocence, and having her all to himself for the rest of their lives.

He licked up and then rubbed circles with his tongue until she went over the edge, “Peter!” She climaxed but Peter didn’t stop. He wanted more, at least one more before he could be satisfied. She was writing now, not because of the heat, but because of the overstimulation.

He thought he heard her curse in her native language.

When she met her second climax, Peter kissed the insides of her thighs, deciding she deserved some rest. As he moved from between her legs, he noticed her eyes were open now. She looked at Peter with a tired smile before she completely passed out.

“Goodnight, my little Doe.”

Peter realized he’d have to take care of the situation growing in his pants on his own.

Peter didn’t panic when he woke up in the morning and Doe wasn’t in bed. Doe’s heat had taken all the energy out of him and he woke up groggily. He figured Doe was building another one of those nests again as he walked out of his room that morning.

“Peter!” Peter winced at the loud sound this early in the morning. He walked into the kitchen to find her.

“Doe-” And then he saw MJ sitting at the head of the kitchen table. Doe was standing beside her, in another one of his t-shirts that said: “I found this humorous” and had a bone printed on it.

“Good morning, Peter,” MJ smiled, looking over Peter’s shirtless body, with a raised eyebrow. “Nice of you to join us, Parker. We’re having a tea party … with Mr. Thumper,” MJ sipped at her empty cup as she gestured to the stuffed bunny sitting in the seat beside her.

Doe walked over to him, a large smile on her face, and Peter realized the girl wasn’t wearing any pants. He wasn’t sure if she was even wearing underwear, “Sit, sit!” She told Peter, grabbing his hand as she led him to the seat opposite Mr. Thumper.

This did not look good.

MJ narrowed her eyes at him as Doe set down a mug and started to pour him some fake tea.

Peter sipped at his fake tea as Doe moved over to MJ, bending down to whisper something into her ear. MJ only laughed at what was said.

Peter’s eyes widened. Had they developed some lifelong friendship while he was sleeping, “What did she say?” Peter asked MJ and then looked to Doe, “What did you say, Doe?”

Doe only giggled, hurrying out of the room, “MJ? She’s keeping secrets from me? In my own apartment!”

“Calm down, don’t get your panties in a twist,” Peter winced, knowing what MJ was hinting at, “She thinks you have a crush on her, isn’t that weird?”

Peter was silent, his lips pressed into a thin line frustration, “She’s very imaginative. As you can see,” Peter gestured to the table.

“Sure,” MJ smirked, “I just hope you’re ready to raise an alien baby.”

Doe came back with stale Oreos she most likely dug from the depths of his cabinets. She sat by Mr. Thumper, trying to feed him. Peter leaned against the table, his hands folded, “Doe, are you going to have something to eat today?”

She looked at MJ and Peter’s eyes widened even more, “I think you should eat, girl. Or else Peter’s going to-” MJ pointed at Peter before pretending her head was exploding.

Doe giggled and, as much as Peter loved the sound, he was jealous. Doe looked at Peter and nodded, “Eat, please.”

Peter scowled at MJ before getting up from the table. He returned with coffee and toast, figuring he should reward Doe for giving it a try, “Good morning!” Doe exclaimed as she bit into her toast.

“That means she’s excited,” Peter explained.

MJ smiled, “I figured.”

As Peter returned to his seat, he said, “I would offer you something MJ but I really hate that you’re here right now,” Peter faked a smile.

MJ returned the smile, giving Peter an obscene gesture.

I’ve gotten a lot of support for this story lately so thank you guys so much! Send me an ask if you’d like to be added to the taglist.

#dark peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #peter parker #peter parker x oc #dark!peter #marvel #mcu #marvel smut #mcu smut #spiderman #darkfic #au #dahyun #a/b/o smut #avengers a/b/o #omega #alpha #marvel fanfiction

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doubleshotofsomething · 3 years

Text

Come Into My Life

This is my entry for @nekoannie-chan‘s writing challenge. Congratulations on 500followers :D! Thank you so much for letting me participate!

This is a series. The remaining parts will be posted throughout the day. It is a Thor fanfic with a song prompt “Entra en mi Vida” (its a beautiful song, i highly recommend).

Song Prompt: Entra en mi Vida by Sin Bandera

Warnings: swearing, like a lot of it. Mentions of human experimentation. that’s it?? Also, people are idiots here, folks. bare with me.

Summary: You live in a world where soulmates don’t exist. Like, at all. All that meant to be, fate has chosen nonsense? Not real. Literal, actual, from-the-TV-screen fairytale. So... why is the God of Thunder convinced that you’re his?

Part One: Entra en mi vida, te abro la puerta

"So—" You clear your throat, throwing yourself onto the only empty seat, "—all jokes aside, guys. What the fuck!"

Everyone blinks at you, drinks in their hands and confusion all over their faces.

You stare back at them, completely dismissing the new sets of eyes staring at you. "No, seriously, like what the fuck?" You reiterate. "Like, no guys, this fuck needs an answer. What the fuck."

"Are we supposed to know what this fuck is?" Ghost asks, the first among the group of five to surpass her confusion. "Because I have a what the fuck for that what the fuck."

You reach over to grab her drink and she – having been used to your antics after three years of friendship – moves it closer for you to grab. You take a sip, let the taste of her chamomile tea settle on your tongue, blanch and give it back.

"So, you know how the Avengers got their asses whipped after they pulled a deadbeat dad, right?" You make grabby hands towards Hope's drink, and she – just like Ghost – pushes it over to you.

"Careful," she grimaces, "it has a kick to it."

"So did Thanos," You mumble as you take a sip of her drink. The espresso sits heavily on your tongue and you swear you can feel it stain your teeth. "What the actual fuck, Hope? What is this? And why does it not have sugar?"

She chooses to roll her eyes at you and mimic the remaining two new faces by staying quiet. Her eyes narrow at you in warning.

"Don't get a tude with me, missy—" You wag your finger at her, “—you're the one that MIA'd for five years without a return address and pissed off the Feds. Like, seriously, what the fuck guys? We had plans and everything! Why the fuck would you leave me alone for that long? You know how I get when I'm not forced to socialise!"

Ghost snorts. "Don't be a baby."

Pouting, because you’re very mature, you feign a sniffle and stick your tongue out at her. "Weeeeeh."

The dude with the annoyingly short blond hair snorts, consequently gaining your attention, and tries to hide his smile with his cup.

"You're new," you narrow your eyes at him. "Why are you new? And why do you look like the dude that owes me 12K for wrecking my car?"

"Oh my god—" Ghost grumbles in the background, "—not this again."

"I have bills and crippling debts and things that need to be paid for, Ghost!"

"You're a trust fund baby, you shithead!" She argues. "You don't know what crippling debt looks like!"

"You don't know that! My investment portfolio has been crumbling since the stock market crashed last year due to the recession."

Sam grins cheekily at you. "You have no idea what you just said, do you?"

Huffing and puffing, all you can say is. "Let's go back to the what the fuck that needs to be discussed." You glare at him pointedly, "then maybe, we can discuss why you're still here and why you came back from ashes."

"I know you missed me, cupcake." The evil bastard reaches over and pinches your cheek.

"I miss dancing on your grave," You try to swat his hand away, "now, thanks to your selfishness, I need a new dance floor. Very rude of you to not stay dead."

"You're adorable."

"As I was whatting the fucks," You turn back to Hope and Ghost, "when the fuck did my life become Thor versus Thanos, and why am I the Thor without the hammer to fight Thanos?"

"Is that your what the fuck?" Ghost frowns.

It's her turn to get glared at. "Don't act like you haven't seen the footage. You know exactly how badly Thor got yeeted off his high horse. I'm only regretful that Captain Wrecking Ball wasn't knocked off his."

"You know he's over here, right?" Hope, ever the oblivious one to your obvious jabs, points at the dude that wrecked your car.

"Yeah, unlike my car and the check he has yet to hand over but hey—" lifting up the cup of espresso, you grin at her "—when life gives you lemons."

"I'm still confused and offended about the Thanos reference." Sam, the gift from the bad side of Pandora's box, begins. "What do we have to do with your life?"

"What does pulling a deadbeat dad mean?" The other new dude asks, his face is both the definition of confused and annoyed. "And what does it have to do with the Avengers?"

You frown. "Now I'm confused—"

"Oh no—" Ghost grimaces.

"—Why do you look like the dude from Gossip Girl but also like the dude on the UN's wanted poster of 20something?" You turn to Sam for assistance. "Doesn't he look like that old geezer from the museum?"

Sam grins, leans back in his seat to take a proper look at the manbun dude. Your table is the round one placed at the corner – the irony – and, until recently, it has always been occupied by the four of you. That was before they decided to ghost you for half a decade.

"Now that you mention it—"

"Oh, fuck off." Manbun snaps at Sam, and you swear you've never fallen in love faster in your entire life than you have in that moment.

Your grin is wide and shit-eating as you put the cup down. You extend your hand to Manbun and wiggle your freshly painted — somehow chapped – fingers.

"I'd tell you my name but it's better if you just called me sweetheart," You’re still grinning. "What's your sign and what time can you pick me up?"

He blinks at you, still confused, and frowns at your hand. Slowly, because you’re a patient girl, you lean over and pry his left hand away from his cup. You place your palm in his and wrap your fingers around each other.

"I'd ask for your name but I think I'll settle for calling you babe," You shake his hand, and then place it back on the cup. "Or hun. I'd call you handsome, but that's too tacky and we—” You point between the both of you, " – don't do tacky."

You sit back in your seat and glance at Sam. "Well... Most of the time anyway."

At this, the rest of your life flashes you a grin. "How does eight o'clock sound?"

"It sounds like a recipe for disaster." Ghost cuts in, narrowing her eyes at you. "Back off, shithead. You've hurt enough of my coworkers"

Jaw dropping and shock feigning, you gasp. "How is that my fault?"

"Is that joke?" Ghost frowns, "because I feel like it's a joke. Three incidences with the analysts and five tech support team make it look like a joke."

You scoff at that. "Look, if your little back up boys can't handle the essence of a real woman, then that's not my fault." Confidently – and silently annoyed – you also add. "Plus, I actually did SHIELD, or whatever ridiculous name you're calling the remake of a failed organisation, a favour. If your boys behind the boys in spandex can't handle being told off by a 'mouse' as they call us, then they shouldn't be behind the dude that wrecked my car.

"But now that I've said that out loud—" You pause, "—I finally understand why the Avengers are so bad at their job. I mean, with such poor support systems, it's no wonder boy blue and red uses cars as a landing mechanism. It's almost as if he's never heard of a parachute."

There's a pregnant pause as you pretend to ponder the situation. The new dude with the blond hair has visibly turned red and is shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Manbun has a very permanent looking frown smeared all over his face and you’re pretty sure you've just ruined whatever chances you had of giving him children. And Sam, because he's Sam and is patiently waiting his turn to roast you, has the biggest shit-eating grin on his face.

Ghost pretends to scowl at you, even though you’re pretty sure she's already drawing up the schematics for the pedestal she's about to build for you. Hope, because she's Hope and has first-hand experience of dealing with spoilt little brats that use creative antics to slowly drive people away, decides to use that exact moment to sigh and expose you.

"Hey sweetheart," she begins in that voice of betrayal. "Can you, like, not be an antisocial, territorial pain in the ass for five minutes and be nice? Stop trying to get our guests to leave with your little mind games, yeah?"

You blink at her. Once, twice. Because the betrayal always takes a few moments to sink in.

"They're not mind games." You retort. "Boy Blue over there did wreck my car. He used it to cushion his fall, because apparently the super-secret organisation that harbours entitled idiots doesn't invest in parachutes."

"But you don't even need that 12K—"

"I didn't ask for the 12k. I just simply pointed out that his reckless behaviour is very costly for those who suffer for it."

"Okay, guys—" Ghost tries to interject, but it's too late. The fire has already started, and Hope and you have never been on the same page when it comes to anything involving the Avengers.

"You're being unreasonable now. You, of all people, should understand that some things are out of our control."

"That doesn't excuse or make the damage done alright. The ruining of people’s livelihoods isn’t a necessary evil for your super heroe'ing righteousness." You point out, eyes narrowed, and teeth bared. "I, of all people, don't understand your defence. Because I don't use the lab that made me as an excuse to get away with the bad shit I do to people. Whether intentionally or not."

"Really? Because you weren't singing that same song when you cashed in on all that HYDRA inheritance."

"I am not the people that made me and it's not like I'm vacationing the money away. Or have you forgotten about that harbour I had to fix because your boyfriend decided to grow a few sizes?"

"Oh, how could I forget? It's not like you rub it in his face every time he tries to so much as even say hi to you."

"People should be held accountable for their actions. Excuse me for exercising my fifth amendment because I don't think communicating with the guy that turned your dad into a fugitive by siding with the anti-accords gang is cool!"

"That accords was messed and you know it!"

“Yeah, but I didn’t go around trying to be a vigilante about it!”

"Just admit that your stance for the accords is only because you need the government's protection against ex-Hydra agents."

She hit a cord and she knows it. "You're treading on very thin ice, Hope."

"Scared they might come back and finish what they started? Now that Pierce and Rumlow are gone, there's nothing stopping them from finishing what they started, is there?"

"You know," You sigh, reaching for Ghost's drink and taking a sip. "At least, I don't have to abduct a man from his home, nearly ruin his chances at freedom, risk his life numerous times for my personal gain, just cause I have a theory about my mom's whereabouts. And then—" You let out a condescending laugh at the thought, "—have the audacity to look him in the eye and call it love. Because, ya know, turning a guy into a science experiment and berating him for doing what he thought was right is so romantic."

She's turning red. You can see it before it actually happens and there is a sick sense of pleasure coursing through your veins at the thought. At the fact that you’re the one pressing all the buttons.

Boy, are you fucked up.

"Damn." Sam mumbles, then chortles, then belts out a laugh. "Shit. Who pissed in your gourmet breakfast?"

"People," You scowl at him. “Fucking people. Because, now call me a bitch if you insist, I don't remember telling management to sign a deal with SHIELD."

"What the fuck?" Ghost, ever so caring, contributes to your bewilderment and pissy mood.

You nod frantically at her. "Exactly! What the fuck! Do you see why I needed you guys so bad? Like, it's like the creation of the Strike Force all over again!"

"Hold on—" Captain Damage Ball cuts in. "—I'm confused. What exactly is going on and what does SHIELD have to do with it?"

"Oh boy. Germany, here we go again—"

"Don't be an asshole, shithead."

When SHIELD fell and Black Widow released all those classified documents to the public, your existence was made known to the public. It turned out that running a terrorist cell inside a super-secret organisation wasn't the only thing Pierce had hidden from the world. You were.

You were supposed to be an experiment. Another volunteer, like the Twins, for Hydra's ultimate plan. Another Bucky Barnes, but without the constant torture to keep you mindless and loyal.

You were supposed to be the next generation. The Rumlow that wouldn't need force and violence to get the job done. That was the requirement. Those were the orders. That's what you were supposed to be.

Instead, somewhere deep in the dark, cold corners of an abandoned Hydra lab, the inhumane attempt of creating Winter Soldiers through 'natural means' had taken place.

The surrogates were all volunteers, the scientist claimed.

The procedure was necessary for the mission, the doctor explained.

This is the only way forward, the master mind behind that plan argued.

Rumlow took care of the agents himself. Pierce burned down that lab himself. And, out of all the children born, you were the only one that lived longer than the rest. The others were unfortunate enough to be experimented on, before Rumlow found out.

Not knowing who to trust, Pierce kept you hidden from the world and Hydra. He never hid the truth from you, nor did Rumlow. They knew that, at some point, those that knew about the lab would eventually find you, and you needed to be prepared for when they did.

When SHIELD fell, the paper trail that led to your existence was small – miniscule, even – but it was there. Sam found it, but he kept you a secret as well until you were ready for the whole world to know.

But the world wasn't waiting for you to be ready. It wasn't that patient, nor kind. Because, with everything out in the open, chaos ensued, and you were still – at the end of the day – the next generation. All those assets couldn't remain frozen forever and all those lives that were ruined by Hydra couldn't remain unaided.

So, you had to step out and – begrudgingly – announce your existence to the world. Put a huge target on your back and claim the inheritance that Pierce had unwittingly left you.

"I'm gonna go piss off alot of bad people—" You had said to Sam over the phone, right before your News Interview. "What do you think I should start with?"

He wasn't having any of it. "Did you just wait for me to leave the country so you could do something stupid?"

"Of course not, I'm not you—" You scoffed, checking your outfit again. "—I hired a hacker to fake a series of cyber-attacks. Then I asked that girl, you know – the one that could walk through walls, to freak a bunch of people out. So, you know, it could be an Avenger level threat, but not the kind that needed Captain Spandex, so they'd send you. Then I scheduled the interview for the night of the supposed attack, because I knew you'd be gone—"

"Are you kidding me, Y/N— Clint, turn this thing around now!"

"—So, I was thinking I show up on stage and say 'the law says I can take all those assets and I'm gonna use them to do the exact opposite of what my ex-bosses would've wanted'. How does that sound?"

"Do me a favour. Don't move. I wanna kill you myself."

You grinned. "I knew you'd love it."

Next Part

TAGS: @nekoannie-chan , @thorfanficwriter

#annie's1stwritingchallenge #annie's500kittieswritingchallenge #writing challenge #sam wilson #thor x reader #x reader #avengers x you #thor x you #thor fanfiction #thor fluff #steve rogers #bucky barnes #sam x reader #mcu #Avengers

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sea-side-scribbles · 3 years

Text

Fanfiction: Sympathy For A Downer

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22737214/chapters/76637180

Chapter 59

Morrie had left the door of his room slightly open, so he could hear what was happening in the corridor. He had been waiting with curiosity, would’ve stayed the whole night there, waiting for something to happen.

Or nothing.

He would’ve been fine if Norbert had stayed in his hideout all night.

He would’ve liked to witness that.

But when he heard his lover leave the dressing room, with a slight squeak of the door, and his footsteps coming quietly downstairs, he wasn’t disappointed. He was somehow beyond that point of being disappointed. He only wanted to see the truth. So, in fact, he rather thanked Norbert for his audacity. Without it, he would’ve never learned the truth.

Morrie was certain that Nick would lead him there. He needed to go after him, after all. He had suspected that Norbert felt a lot of sympathy for that random reporter.

Well, Norbert liked people, that fas a fact.

He was almost naive, trusting strangers and being comfortable around them. That was why every fan immediately believed they were close friends. Someone who didn’t know him couldn’t see the little difference between sympathy and well, further interest.

The image of how he had lifted Arthur up from the ground appeared in front of his eyes. Morrie quickly blinked.

Oh, Norbert just liked his tall guys.

Morrie’s plan didn’t go as far as knowing what he should do when he saw them together.

Jump out of a bush? Boo?

That would’ve been funny.

But Morrie never was the funny type.

After everything that had happened, he didn’t know if he even wanted to scold Norbert. Morrie had known better, all the time, but simply all those empty years without his reckless lover had given him enough reason to stay.

He had lied too.

He wasn’t done trying.

He wasn’t done hearing excuses and he wasn’t done watching Norbert pleading for his love.

That reporter had no idea who Norbert was, what he needed and what he did!

However, there was still another possibility. What if that reporter had completely different intentions? Norbert also had the bad habit of trusting the wrong people, and every wrong word in the press could bring him to fall. He needed protection. And all he needed to do was to understand that only Morrie could be his protector.

His heart was throbbing. This was pulling his nerves. The farther Norbert went, the more he was afraid. But he had to wait, gather all his patience, until he could finally leave his room and follow, passing by the drunkards in the hallway. At the top of the stairs he waited. Norbert was careful but decisive. He didn’t hesitate once when he walked out of the backdoor. Morrie already felt cold before the night breeze touched his skin.

Panic took over him because he couldn’t find Norbert in the dark. He turned a corner in the narrow backyard, listening carefully over the sound of his own footsteps.

There was so much noise. The whistling, stomping Bobbies of the night shift, the humming drones, squealing of rats in the grass - how was he supposed to hear the footsteps of a light-footed rockstar?

He went the only way that made sense to him, towards the street, not the cliffs, god forsake, and soon his eyes fell on a slim figure walking in a hurried, but careful pace.

He must’ve done this before, the way he was completely calm around the functioning alarm system, fooling it constantly. Morrie stumbled along, starting to wonder if it really was a good idea to take a night stroll only for good old verity’s sake. Walking over the cobblestone, his footsteps were incredibly loud to him, no matter how faintly he treaded. The way they echoed along the streets was unbearable.

But wait - were they his own?

Morrie promptly stopped, pressing himself against a wall, staring at Norbert’s figure that went off in a steady pace. Drops of sweat ran down his forehead. He was definitely not made for this. Shortly glancing back, he found only dark emptiness behind him.

God, his nerves! His intuition went crazy out here!

He broke away from the wall and hurried behind Norbert.

Nick had to keep himself from thinking too much. If he realized what he was doing, he was afraid he’d panic and hide under his blanket again. He had no idea what he’d say to Arthur, if he could stick to his quickly worked out plan, or if he’d simply break.

The image of saying goodbye to someone only brought back bad memories.

It was never done right.

It shouldn’t be done at all.

So all he could do was being afraid, actually keeping his chest from bursting with fear and climb down the ladder.

For the first time he felt like he could trip and fall at any moment. The walls seemed to watch him, as if he was an intruder, the chaos invading this silent den of toxic fog and rats.

Arthur was right.

This was a romantic place only for a stoned druggie. Not a home for a man like him.

Back on solid ground, nothing stopped Nick from running anymore.

When he reached Arthur’s shelter, he found the door open. The lump in his throat kept him from speaking while he turned every corner in the shelter.

It was empty. Just the dirty, abandoned place that it had been before Arthur had filled it with life.

“No…“ His whisper echoed through the chamber. He hurried to his tunnel suite. Inside, the bed was still unmade. Nick walked over to it, his gaze wandering along every little fold that held the last memory of their forbidden love.

The last beautiful moment before everything had fallen apart.

Nick sat down on the bed, ran his fingers along the sheets and started to sob.

Bad timing!

Bad fucking awful timing!

Why did that always happen to him?

Because he had to go down memory lane, dwell in his own fucking self-pity before he got his arse up! No time to live in memories during his escape, right? So better do it now.

And then thinking he’d be hungry at his journey. He couldn’t just walk into a shop as a Downer in the Parade. Of course he had to go the easiest way. And there was a still good-filled storage nearby, owned by someone who wouldn’t notice if a few things were missing. Or all of them. Someone who bloody deserved an empty kitchen! But of course it couldn’t be that easy, Arthur thought cowering behind a counter.

This didn’t look like it would end soon.

Did Sally cry for him after she betrayed him? If so, was it self-pity too?

Was there a selfless way to cry?

Well, Nick didn’t betray him. He just…broke up with him for no reason. And now he was crying about it. Should’ve made up his mind.

Instead, he made Arthur want to walk over and put his arms around him. Maybe pet that pretty caramel hair.

Oh, for fuck’s sake, why couldn’t he be tougher? He had been tough with Sally, right? Well, throwing a stranded girl out onto the streets had been not very tough.

Oh, heavens!

His legs started to itch. He needed to get out of there. Arthur crawled along the counter and then eyed his options. Nick was focused on the bedsheets, perhaps he wouldn’t look around. Arthur darted out of his corner and found a new spot behind a shelf. He gasped triumphantly while his heart nearly jumped out of his throat.

This wasn’t so bad! Nick wouldn’t see him, if he squeezed around the furniture and disappeared into the tunnel. Quickly, he began to crawl, setting his eyes on the devastated rockstar.

What an image! This was almost like he saw him for the first time. Broken, desperate and helpless. This image had been very impressive because during all the crying and rueing, he had also shown deep interest in a certain Downer…

Arthur couldn’t help but dwell.

That sweet taste, their intimacy that Arthur hadn’t felt since…

It had been a dream.

A world where nobody could harm him, where his own desires mattered.

Well, every dream eventually ended.

It was time to wake up.

Forcefully, Arthur brought himself to move on. With his gaze still set on Nick, he didn’t notice that he had moved the clobber on the shelf along with him. When he saw something golden floating in the corner of his eye it was already too late. The statue of Nick touched the stoney tiles and shattered into little shiny pieces.

“Sorry“, Arthur said to a flabbergasted Nick, “Was that important to you?“

“Arthur…you’re still here.“ Nick’s voice was a rasp. Arthur nervously clutched the bag he had packed with Nick’s stash.

“Uh…I…I need supplies for my escape and…I figured you wouldn’t need these anymore…since you have the Avalon suite and your own kitchen and your manager who gets you things and… I don’t have to explain myself to you! Why are you here? Stroking the bed, as if it was some precious treasure of yours? You’re the one who broke up with me!“

Nick watched Arthur rant, spilling all these words out of his mouth. He barely heard them. They sounded hostile and made Nick clutch the sheets, adding more folds to the picture.

“I made a horrible mistake“, he brought out.

Arthur talked over the pang he felt in his chest: “No, you’re right! If you want to stay here, there’s nothing I can do for you! It’s better we…stop lying to ourselves and do what’s best for us!“

God, did he have to sound so much like an arse, Arthur thought while the darkness of the tunnel lurked in the corner of his eye. It was so close, one tiny step and he’d be out of here. But his feet didn’t obey him.

“Why do you want to go so badly?“, Nick asked, no, pleaded.

God, why did he have to make this so awkward?

“Why? I told you, I can’t live this life! There’s more important things in the world than Wellington Wells! Things like…like…“

Family?

Arthur stopped himself just at the last moment.

“What does it matter to you? It’s is none of your business anymore!“

Nick let go of the bed. His hands now clung to each other.

“I wish it was.“

Arthur let out a silent breath. “What?“

Nick got up.

Run, Arthur, run!

But his damn feet…

Nick’s feet worked just fine. He stopped in a safe distance to Arthur, not close enough to make him run away. “Arthur, I know I sounded like I don’t care about you anymore. But that’s not true. I care very much about you. You mean…a lot to me.“

Arthur’s expression darkened. “So what? What do you want?“

Nick had gone a long way to come this far. He had accomplished so much. He was only one step away from fulfilling his dream.

From this day on, he could be true, let all his past mistakes go, find the better person in himself and become the man Morrie had always wanted. All it took was sacrificing the poor bugger that fate had made cross his path.

Easy as that.

But didn’t better people aways say you should listen to your heart?

“I know I don’t have the right…you asked for it before and I refused…but I have to ask you now…Could we…start over?“

“What?“

Suddenly the bag in Arthur’s hands felt very heavy. He had no idea how long he’d been holding it. And he really planned to go all the way to the bridge with this?

“No…we can’t…I prepared everything and I really need to go…“

Nick lowered his head and his shoulder fell. “I didn’t want it to end like this…“, he said quietly.

“Me neither, but you…“

The bad slipped from Arthur’s shoulder and the many cans inside caused a loud clank.

“What is this, Nick?“, Arthur cried out. “First you break up and now you want me back right after? Just like that? Is that how it works with you?“

Nick made an awkward gesture as if he wanted to shrug and then decided otherwise.

“You see…I’m a bad person…but believe me, I love you!“

Arthur gave the bag a helpless glance. He could still lift it up and go. But it didn’t look like it was in a hurry.

“What are we supposed to do now?“

“Well“, Nick dared to make a few steps forward. “If you’re too mad at me for now, you could tell me to leave you alone. I could come back later, when you know if you still want me around or not…Or we could try it right now…We could act like we met for the first time.“

He leaned against the greasy wall with one arm, in an overly nonchalant way and gave him a look with a spark in his eyes that suddenly came out of nowhere.

“Hello, beautiful stranger“, he purred. „Nice to meet you down here. Would you like a drink?“

It was so over the top. Arthur wished he could pull off a perplexed chuckle, or a sigh, anything else than turning as red as a beet. How weird was he to find that cute?

“That doesn’t work“, he said trying not to smile. “I know you.“

“Sure you know me. Everyone knows me. You can call me Nick, just like everyone else“, he replied as if Arthur wouldn’t know that by now. “So, can I cheer you up with a drink? Believe me, talking is much easier when you’re sitting down and smelling a fruity bouquet.“

It had been a question, but still Nick was setting himself into motion right after. Arthur followed him without hesitation. “Fine. But no drugs this time“, he demanded.

Nick made an upset expression. “God, no! What gave you that idea? I’m just talking about a harmless, tasty refresher. You’ll see, you’ll like it.“ Nick put two glasses on the counter before his eyes wandered along Arthur’s features. “By the way, what’s your name?“

Arthur blinked. “Guess.“

Nick opened his mouth in surprise, then let out a playful chuckle. “With pleasure…hmm…I think you have a name with a strong meaning…a name that people consider as common but describes you better than any other…“

“You’d find all of that out at the first meeting?“, Arthur teased, accepting his drink.

“Sshh“, Nick hissed quietly and waved him off. “I think you are a…“ He eyed him nonchalantly. “A Percival, yes?“

Arthur nearly choked.

“A…P…Percival…huh…“, he stuttered wiping his mouth. “Why?“

“Because it’s strong, because it has the right sound, because I think it has a connection to you…no?“

“Uh…well…it’s close…“, Arthur stuttered, trying to sound amused. “I’m impressed.“

“Only close?“ Nick said with fake disappointment. “Aww, I thought I had it.“

Arthur tasted more of the drink. It was a more subtle savour, not overly sweet but not bitter either, with an indeed fruity smell surrounding it.

“Nick…perhaps we should act normal…“

“Oh, sure.“ Nick smiled warmly. “Just be natural. Do whatever you want around me. Be free.“

“No, I mean…I don’t think this works.“ He drank more.

Nick sighed and leaned an elbow onto the counter. “At least the drinks are drinkable, hm?“

Arthur put the glass down, still feeling the taste on his tongue. “Nick…I don’t know what you put into this again, but it makes me want to grab you.“

Nick’s face lit up. “Whoa, tiger, you really let it all out on your first date! I like that!“

“Is this even a date?“

Nick chuckled irresistibly. “I think so…“

“Honestly, what did you put in there?“

Nick lifted an eyebrow. “Are you sure you had alcohol before?“

Arthur reached out a hand. “Let me touch you to see if you’re real.“

“Oh my…“ Nick acted flattered. “I don’t even know your name yet…“

Arthur palpated the other man and immediately felt his warmth under his fingers. The cloth was so soft…to touchable.

“I’m afraid we have to save that for later…“

Nick was beaming with joy. “You go by ’beautiful stranger’ for now.“

Arthur leaned over to Nick. “Fine with me…“

The shadow moved, soundless but definite, stalking his prey. There couldn’t have been a better night. Starless.

There was nothing that could stop him, because someone’s time was definitely over.

He had been curious about how it’d turn out for this particular one. He had been watching him for a while, how he kept spilling venom into Nick’s heart and put him in chains. It had been a very interesting time. But now he had to end the farce.

Morrie’s fear grew again when Norbert suddenly left the road. Turning around, he was seen only for a short glimpse, then he was gone, and only Morrie’s sense told him that he hadn’t vanished into thin air.

He was thankful when his feet touched grass again. It was so soft and quiet. In a corner behind a fountain he found Norbert again. Morrie ducked behind it.

Great, he’ll meet him here, of all places. Wasn’t there a better location for…?

His train of thoughts was cut off when he saw Norbert put his hands on a wheel and turn it. What was that about? A hatch? Really? Morrie shivered in the cold. He didn’t want to go down there. What the hell was Norbert doing? Morrie suddenly had a very bad feeling in his guts. What if this wasn’t about a love affair? What if Norbert was in real danger this time? A second later, Morrie found the heart to come out of his hiding spot and rush over to Norbert, hands reaching out for him.

“Nick, what are you doing?“ Arthur chuckled helplessly. Nick had grabbed his hand, his other hand lay on Arthur’s hip, and he dragged him away from the bar.

“Have you never danced before?“, Nick teased him.

“Not in this state“, Arthur protested, while he clumsily tried to follow the other man’s pace. He let out a surprised gasp when Nick suddenly swirled him around.

“Careful!“

Nick moved fluidly. “Step on my feet all you want, beautiful stranger.“

Arthur grabbed him, eyes fixed on the ground, watching his lovers’ feet move and slowly adjusting to the rhythm. He began to feel comfortable. Nick’s tender eyes assured him he could do no wrong. Each time they set foot on the stoney floor their bodies came closer. Arthur was about to embrace Nick, what made his nerves tickle with joy. He figured that they danced like his schoolmates must’ve done it at parties. Not really dancing, rather hugging while moving along.

Did he ever dance like that?

If he wasn’t fooling himself, he remembered having at least a tiny bit of talent. Perhaps he could pull it off…

He put both hands on Nick’s hips and lifted him up in the air. Soon, he heard Nick rejoice. Two hands quickly clutched his shoulders for security. Then Arthur panicked about his spontaneous courage and wondered about the next step. If he recalled it right, he was supposed to put his partner back down in a romantic way. A second later, Nick landed not only on his feet, but also in Arthur’s arms, that were his only protection between him and the floor.

Nick melted away. He felt save. And loved. Also, it was a lot of fun.

“Can you do that again?“

Morrie didn’t come very far. The moment he decided to run was also the moment that something else caught his attention.

All he could see at first were eyes. In the glimpse of the moment, their red shine emerged from the dark. They were set on him, distorted with anger, with black pupils that stared right trough him and made his insides turn to ice. The face they belonged to, even though covered in an unnatural shimmer, seemed familiar, but Morrie couldn’t tell why. The way the stranger approached him made Morrie feel that this was very personal. But he was sure that only the devil himself could look this way.

When he realized his fate he felt grief. Grief for himself, for his love and for the world that had been beautiful once. His mouth was wide open when he took a breath, gasping a silent cry.

“Nick“, Arthur sighed and reached out for the other man, needing multiple tries to find him.

“Yeah?“, Nick purred with a voice like silk.

“Do you always put a spell on people you like?“

“Uh…I guess so…“ Nick, stuttered, not quite getting it. His fingers stroked Arthur’s skin.

“I could be far away by now. In a strange country, without even knowing you.“

Nick’s hand stopped, lingering on the spot.

“It’s true…I’m sorry…“

Arthur turned around, crawling towards the other man, until his lips nearly touched the other man’s cheek.

“Thank you“, he whispered into Nick’s ear.

#wehappyfew #we happy few #whf #whfnick #whf nick #nick lightbearer #nicklightbearer #nickxmorrie #nickxarthur #arthur hastings we happy few #whfarthurhastings #whf arthur #whfarthur #morriememento #morrie memento

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masterjedilenawrites · 3 years

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The Helmeted Hunter: Chapter 23

Boba Fett x Reader

Chapter Warnings: Fluffity romanceness

AO3 Link (In case you like it better over there, it’s okay, no judgement)

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Chapter 23: The Other Buyer

You could've stayed in that moment forever.

Your lips moving along with his, slowly and carefully. Your fingers skimming gently over the folds of the tunic bunched at his neck, finding purchase in his soft curls. His breath tickling your chin as he continued to sigh in satisfaction.

But each kiss seemed to waken you just a little more, stirring your weary spirit and sending pleasant but restless waves through your battered body. You suppose that energy could've led you to turn those kisses into something more; there was certainly a growing warmth in your core that would've welcomed it. But instead, it was your mind that took over. It was pulling forth memories of your stay in the Crimson Dawn cell, and the ideas you'd formed there.

You pulled back from Boba as your mind raced through those ideas again, confirming they still made any sense.

"That bad, huh?"

He was trying to sound playful, but it was clear he really was self-conscious. You imagined he probably didn't have much experience, and you suddenly breaking away didn't exactly help his confidence.

"No," you were quick to say, squeezing your hands slightly along his shoulders. "No, I... I...."

You didn't know where to begin. But you had to start somewhere. After all the things he'd said to you, you had to let him know what you wanted now.

"I can't go back to my old life," you said, putting care behind each word. "But I also can't start a new one. Not yet, not without ending this mess once and for all. I would love nothing more than to run off with you, and maybe we can someday soon, but you have to understand why that's just not possible right now."

If Boba was hurt, he hid it well, keeping his features in their usual, neutral state as you spoke. Since he wasn't giving you a reaction yet, you continued.

"No one is going to simply forget about this bounty on my head. They will keep hunting me, no matter where we go. That's no way to live."

Boba sighed, though not in the satisfied way he had before. He lifted his hands up to wrap around your wrists, moving his calloused fingers along the bandaging while he looked at you with a sad smile.

"Of course I understand," he murmured. "We can keep searching."

You tried to take comfort in the soothing motions of his hands on yours, a sign that he hadn't pulled away or grown upset yet. However, you doubted he'd like what you had to say next. You steadied your nerves with a deep breath.

"We don't need to search, because I know where to go."

His eyebrows raised, curious. "You do?"

You brought your hands down from his shoulders, grasping his own firmly in the space between your laps. "Think about it. Think about how off this whole thing has been, right from the beginning. We've been looking for answers to questions like where and why. But what about how? How is it that these portals are meant to be random, taking random people from random planets at random times... and yet, someone knew exactly when and where I would be going through one, far enough in advance to get you to wait for me."

The words spilled from your mouth, eager to finally be heard. The thoughts had been eating at you while in Crimson Dawn's cell. It felt good, freeing even, to share them with another.

"Right," Boba said flatly. "So this guy planned it. Or just predicted it."

You shook your head. "He isn't the only one with a bounty on my head. They weren't the only ones who knew I was coming."

"The Empire."

No sooner had he breathed the name did you resume your rambling.

"A personal photo of me was hung up on posters in distant planets just days after I went through the portal, by people who now own my planet. That can't be a coincidence. And their price for my capture may not be as high, but it's still significant. Maybe they want me for the same reasons as this other guy. Maybe they were able to predict or plan my trip through the portal, too. At the very least, they know something."

Boba had closed his eyes and was rubbing the bridge of his nose. It occurred to you he was tired as well, and you briefly wondered how long he had gone without sleep while you were apart.

"So..." He opened his eyes but kept them scrunched in thought. "What, are you going to knock on the Emperor's door and ask him what's going on?"

"Yes," you said firmly. Obviously there'd be a better way to do it, but that was beside the point. "If anyone has answers, anyone that we can go to right away without all this clue hunting, it's the Empire."

He grasped your wrists again, holding them up to you. "And you'd risk going through something like this again?"

"I'll do whatever it takes to be done with this."

You meant it. Despite your attention being brought back to your wounds and the dull ache that had settled in them. Despite the spike of energy your mind had given you now fading back into fatigue. Despite all the suffering and confusion and fear you'd just gone through. You really were prepared to go through it all again if it meant you could then be freed from it. If you could finally move on.

Boba was frowning. "Well I can't risk you getting hurt again," he said, revealing just how much guilt he truly had over what'd happened to you. You were touched, but also defeated. If he wasn't willing to help you, or was actually going to stop you....

But then he spoke again, his tone kinder. "So we'll need a plan. Several plans. Nothing gets left to chance. We'll get you answers, but more important is you getting the chance at a new life."

You smiled. "Thank you," you whispered.

"And we'll do it after you rest," he said, getting up from the bunk and starting to clean up the supplies he'd left on the counter. "You need to heal."

Exhaustion was making its way back into your mind and you couldn't agree more. You were also suddenly conscious of the fact you'd soiled the linens on his bed with the filth you'd acquired on your clothes. You'd also need to get clean.

"Deal," you said, standing up yourself. You were about to ask for some things to help you freshen up first, when a vaguely familiar melody reached your ears. It seemed to be coming from above in the cockpit.

"Is that music?" you asked, tilting your head to hear better. As you caught more of the tune, you realized why it was familiar. "My music."

"Oh, yeah." Boba seemed to have forgotten he'd had it playing. You both had been too caught up in your discussion, and intimacy, to have noticed until now. "Your device wasn't broken, it just needed a new power source. So I integrated it with the ship."

You couldn't help but cringe a little as you remembered some of the songs that would surely be on there. "Well please don't judge me. I haven't always had the best taste in music."

He chuckled softly. "There's some... odd songs on there. But they aren't all bad." He paused, also cocking his head slightly. "I like this one. Reminds me of you."

You both had a shy smile, not quite used to sharing such things with each other. But you were glad he was starting to open up more, showing you the little pieces of his heart and soul that he'd kept hidden for so long.

* * *

You managed to clean up well without a shower. You took your time, not wanting to strain yourself from the effort but needing to get as much dirt and blood off you as possible. It seemed like ages ago that'd you last had a shower and you wanted to get that feeling back as best you could. Boba had also given you your old clothes, cleaned and with creases from having been folded for so long. You couldn't fathom when he'd had the time to get them cleaned.

Once you felt satisfied, you emerged from the lavatory to find Boba waiting for you. He wanted to quickly patch up the cut on your cheek before you went off to bed. You let him, leaning against the counter as he worked a few stitches through it, taking the time to admire him. You still considered his features quite ordinary, but there was now a familiarity to them that gave you a different sort of fondness. You realized that while you'd seen him upset and frustrated, and in some cases angry, you'd never seen his face display the kind of rage or cruelty that people like Dryden Vos had. There was always a thoughtfulness to him, a sense of control and awareness.

The songs from your music player had continued to change, the volume low so you were only occasionally aware of it. The one that had just started now brought a small smile to your face - and a quick instruction from Boba to keep still.

"This one sounds like you," you whispered. He hesitated before smirking back, and then repeating that you really needed to be still because he was almost done.

Were you really saying these things to Boba Fett? Feeling these things for him? He wasn't different than when you first knew him, there was simply more to him now. In your current, sleep-deprived state of mind, you were having a hard time wrapping your head around how quickly he'd grown on you. How easy it was for you to look at him with affection. How badly you wanted to test all the ways you could make him blush and smile....

He eventually stopped his work and tried ushering you to bed. You were already drifting off, but a small part of you still wanted to cling to him. It may have been slightly manipulative on your part, but you couldn't help but mumble out don't leave me just to see if he'd lie down with you.

With a resigned huff, he crawled into the bunk next to you, taking up most of the narrow space with his body. But you were already curling into his side, head in the crook of his arm, and a bandaged wrist across his chest. No sooner had you made yourself comfortable did you immediately succumb to sleep, letting yourself drift off to the sound of his heartbeat.

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vcg73 · 4 years

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Free Kurt - Past Kurt

I wrote one extra story for the Free Kurt, anti-proposal challenge, but it’s a little different. 😊

~*~*~*~*~

“What are you wearing?”

Kurt jumped at the sound of a young and judgmental voice speaking directly in his ear.

He was standing on a wide marble step within the hallowed halls of Dalton Academy, surrounded by dozens of friends, acquaintances, and strangers from the assorted western Ohio high schools that Blaine had brought here today to witness his proposal. A proposal that was currently proceeding from the step below his own, and which Kurt was feeling increasingly pressured to accept in spite of his own very real misgivings.

And while it was a very distracting scene, he had not noticed anyone sneaking up behind him. He turned his head slightly, attempting to pay attention to Blaine’s words while simultaneously taking a quick peripheral peek over his right shoulder.

Kurt nearly jumped out of his skin when the voice spoke again, this time right next to him on the left. “Wait, are we getting proposed to?”

Whipping his head to the left, Kurt frowned. Who was that? He didn’t see anyone.

Blaine faltered a little, apparently noticing his distraction. “Kurt?” he mumbled, hazel eyes darting about as his intended frowned and looked everywhere but at him. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t you hear that?” he asked.

“I’m very good looking in the future!” the voice observed, sounding pleased. “Tall too! But that suit has got to go. Peacock blue brocade can be beautiful if used sparingly. Maybe a vest or a jacket against an all black suit. Though on second thought that might make it look like you were about to deal roulette in Vegas. But an entire suit? And with a violet silk shirt to contrast? I know this is just a dream, otherwise I wouldn’t be watching myself, but what has happened to my fashion sense since I got old?”

The young voice was so utterly horrified that Kurt almost laughed in spite of the bizarre circumstance. For he recognized the speaker now. What was even stranger, he remembered now with a startling burst of clarity, that he had had this very dream when he was about 14 years old. Himself standing in what he had thought was a fairy tale palace, watching himself be proposed to by Prince Charming.

Had it not been a dream? For he did recall suddenly that it had occurred following a whack to the head brought about after one of the goon squad, who had already started targeting him in middle school, had aimed badly when shoving Kurt into a locker. Kurt had told his dad that he’d been hit with a dodge ball during P.E. His dad had skeptically bought it, not able to prove otherwise, but Kurt had been given a few days off of school that week, and he remembered being watched like a hawk the whole time.

He also remembered having a lot of strange half-remembered dreams that he had written off to concussion.

A little shiver went down his spine. Surely it was not possible that he had done some kind of astral time travel thing. Wasn’t that just a little too sci-fi for the real world?

And yet, he could not deny the voice that was apparently only in his own ears at this moment. For nobody else was reacting as if they heard a young teenager passing judgment on this whole affair.

“Actually, forget our fashion taste. What the hell is he wearing?”

Kurt bit down a smirk. He had forgotten how dramatically fond of italics he had been as a kid. But he focused, really focused for the first time, on that hideous banana yellow creation that Blaine had chosen, and had to give his alter ego a point on it. No doubt Blaine had wanted something that would force every eye onto him. It wasn’t like he had ever been able to stand not having 100% of the attention in any room turned his way.

Blinking, Kurt wondered where that harsh thought had come from. Sure, it was true, but shouldn’t his thoughts be focused toward how romantic this all was? Apparently listening to the point of view of his less inhibited younger self was sparking a little rebellion inside of him.

“He’s handsome, our boyfriend,” the young voice observed in a clinical tone that made his older self want to laugh. He remembered using it when deciding between two equally perfect outfits, trying to decide which would have more of a ‘wow’ factor. “But his fashion taste is terrible and I don’t like the hair. That slicked back Elvis retro thing is so 1995. It also makes him look like he’s pushing 30. Wait. Is he older than us? How old are we? Are we 30?”

That age must seem ancient to a boy of 14, Kurt supposed. His conscience prickled at the remembrance of his own life plan having been to find someone and become husbands or domestic partners, depending on what the law dictated so far in the future, with him by 30. Before that, he had always expected to live a life of fashionable single fabulosity, with boyfriends by the dozen, while he conquered the career of his choice. It had not been until high school, developing his first bad crush on Finn Hudson, being swamped with insistent hormones, and being constantly surrounded by relationships, that he had started longing for a commitment. Not because he knew what to do with one then, but because he had hated being the only person who did not even have the prospect of a real relationship.

He knew better than that now. So why was he still so determined to do something he knew in his gut that he was not ready for? Even if their ‘teenage dream’ had been perfect, was he really willing to enter into a lifelong commitment before he even hit 20?

Apparently unaware of his thoughts, the voice of his young observer continued with relentless interest. “Oh, my god. Is that Rachel? Tell me you are not thinking of letting Rachel Berry be your attendant. She’s the most obnoxious girl in school! And she’s dressed better than you! Maybe this is actually a nightmare. Oh, hey, there’s Dad. Hi, Dad!”

Kurt looked at his father, looking slightly confused a few steps below where he stood just behind Will Schuester. Burt looked around surreptitiously, as if he had heard the call, but knew it was not possible for it to be there.

“If he’s here at our proposal then he knows about us!” invisible Kurt said happily. “Did we come out to him, and he’s happy for us?”

The sound of a dreamy sigh made Kurt’s eyes unexpectedly prickle with tears. How well he remembered that feeling. That co-mingling of fear, dread, and hope that had gripped him every time he had considered biting the bullet, and telling his father that he was gay. Of course he would have thought he was dreaming all this, seeing his father in his every day attire in a place like this, while they were both surrounded by the glitter and formality of dozens of smiling peers. Friends were another thing that young Kurt had never been sure he would actually experience in real life.

“If this is a dream, does that mean Mom is here too?” the invisible speaker asked, this note of longing in his young voice going straight to Kurt’s heart. He had heard that question deep inside himself for so many years. The small childish part of him that had never entirely accepted that someone as wonderful, fun-loving, and tenderly understanding as his beautiful mother could just be snuffed out of his world after only eight short years.

“No,” he said softly. He knew suddenly that if his mother had been here, she never would have approved of this. She had held the safety and happiness of her only child as a sacred trust from the day he was born until her very last day on Earth. He had always been able to talk to her about anything, and this would have been no different. Mom never would have allowed him to compromise his heart and his future for a dream that he already knew did not live up to reality. “I’m sorry.”

He had been speaking to past-Kurt and to his mother, but when he said the words, it caused Blaine to stop mid-sentence with a look of shock. “What do you mean, no.”

Kurt blinked. Suddenly he knew that while he had not meant those words for Blaine, a part of him had actually wanted to say them out loud ever since he walked in the building.

“Kurt, what are you doing?” Blaine said, his voice more annoyed now as Kurt brushed past him to walk down a few steps, looking around at the crowd and realizing for the first time how few of these people he actually knew. “You’re embarrassing me! I don’t what you’re looking for, but it doesn’t matter. Can we just get on with this thing?”

Kurt turned to look at him, frowning at the irritated question.

“This thing?” he repeated, eyes narrowing. “You mean the thing where I’m missing my flight home so my ex-boyfriend who’s still in high school can ask me to agree to spend the rest of my life with him, even though we’ve only been casually back together as a couple for a couple of days? The thing where we’re both supposed to agree to love and be faithful to one another forever? That thing?”

Apparently he had not entirely lost his love of italics after all. His tone was biting, the reminder of his own youthful hopes and expectations making him feel angry and betrayed all over again.

Instead of understanding, Blaine actually rolled his eyes. “Not that again. I told you, I thought we were over when that happened! And didn’t I promise I would never ever do it again? Isn’t that enough? Why can’t you just get over it? It’s not like it meant anything, Kurt.”

That injured way he said Kurt’s voice, the way that usually deflated whatever outrage Kurt felt and caused him to guiltily give in, enraged him this time.

“No, Blaine. I can’t just get over it. Because we weren’t anywhere near over when it happened, and you know it. It’s called a long distance relationship, and what you did was horrible. Our being boyfriends meant everything to me. The fact that you could throw what we had away on a stranger after just a few weeks apart, because I couldn’t devote all of my attention to you while I was starting a new life in a different state? That meant something to me. It meant that I couldn’t trust you anymore. I don’t trust you, and I can’t forget that happened, so I guess I was wrong about being able to forgive it too. I’m sorry, but I can’t do this. I don’t want to spend my whole life with a guy that I don’t believe will keep a vow to honor and cherish me.”

Blaine sputtered. “But, but I . . . what about all this?” He gestured frantically around them as if he could not conceive of such a scene not magically wiping away whatever doubts Kurt had.

“This is all very beautiful,” Kurt said, glancing around at the streamers, balloons, and startled faces that filled the room, “but it’s only a child’s dream. The real world isn’t a pretty song and a lot of smiling faces. It’s hard work, and compromise, and shared joys, and making sacrifices for each other’s happiness. That’s what a real commitment means, Blaine. It means being there for the people you love even when conditions are not ideal. Even when they’re so bad that you don’t know what to say or how to move forward, but you keep trying because you love them too much to ever want to cause that person pain. It means being your best self and making good times for the two of you even when the worst things are happening.”

“I don’t understand,” he admitted, flopping his hands helplessly. “Where is all this coming from?”

Kurt looked at his dad, who was dashing away tears from eyes that carried mingled pride, regret, and new understanding.

“I was reminded on the way here about how much my mom and dad loved each other, and how deeply committed they were to each other. Even when my mom was dying, they never stopped trying to make each other smile. They never would have cheated on each other, or tried to pressure each other into making a decision that they knew was wrong. And when it was just Dad and me, he did the same for me. He wanted me to always know that I had a safe space with him, a home where I could be myself and try to block out all the pain of the outside world. And I did the same for him, even when I was a little clumsy about trying to protect him.”

Burt nodded, his smile wry as he was clearly remembering some of of the awkward, uncomfortable, but always deeply loving moments they had shared together

“I want that again,” Kurt said, turning back to his would-be fiance. “It’s been a long time since I had a place where I know I can always be myself without having to hide half of the things that make me who I am. A place where I can feel safe because I always know that I’m loved and respected. A home where I can be with someone wants to make sure that I’m happy, just because knowing that makes him happy. Because I deserve that, Blaine. And because I’ll do the same for the man that I’ll agree to spent my life with one day.”

“And I’m not that man?” he asked, sounding genuinely sad.

Kurt looked at him, smiled, and gently kissed his cheek. “No. I hope you will be that man for somebody one day, but we both know deep down that it can’t be me. Our relationship started right here in this hallway three years ago. It’s appropriate that it ends in the same place. Good luck, Blaine.”

They looked into each other’s eyes for a moment, Blaine reading the truth in Kurt’s steady gaze. “I’ll miss you. I’ll always love you, Kurt.”

“Goodbye. Dad, I’ll meet you out at the car.”

Holding his head high, Kurt walked down the steps and past the shocked crowd of onlookers.

“Thanks, Kurt,” he whispered, no longer able to sense his younger self, who had probably awakened from his dream at the same time his present self had ended the swirling nightmare of his unwanted proposal.

Pushing past the great double doors of Dalton Academy, Kurt smiled and stepped out into the sunlight, leaving the past behind him.

THE END

#Free Kurt #elledelajoie #Anti Klaine proposal challenge

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