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astralkoo · 3 years

Text

The Snack Thief (M)

Pairing: Jungkook / Reader

Genre: neighbors au, smut

Rating: 18+

Words: 6.4k

Summary: in which your annoying, younger neighbor has a nasty habit of breaking into your apartment late at night and stealing your food.

Warnings: strong language, technically breaking & entering, broke college student struggles, older!reader, Jungkook saying noona, explicit sexual content; sub!jungkook, dom!reader, blowjob, kitty gets ate, sixty-nine, very mild degrading (jk gets called a slut like once), needy jk, fingering (m. receiving)

— author’s note; it’s been a minute, hasn’t it? i’ve been trying to get back into my groove so hopefully this is the start of a very active and productive summer for my writing. also! this is cross posted on my new wattpad account bckupbabies so if you see it on there, that’s me don’t worry!

You woke with a start, heart pounding, skin drenched in cold sweat, fear gripping at your chest.

There's someone in your apartment.

It was a split second realization, one that ripped you violently from the gentle thralls of sleep and had thick, stifling terror settling like heavy stones in your gut. Sucking your lips into your mouth to prevent your breath from coming out too audibly, you strained your ears, listening carefully. At first, all you could make out was the soft whirring of the fan above your head. But then—

Thud.

In an instant, you were out from beneath the covers, a shiver rushing down your spine as the cold night air nipped at the exposed skin of your arms and legs. Instinctively, your hand shot to the nightstand, rushing over the smooth wood surface, seeking out your phone. Only— it wasn't there. Shit. You must've accidentally left it on the counter last night. Shit.

Gritting your teeth, you stumbled through the darkness, bracing a steadying palm against the wall to guide yourself across the bedroom.

"Where is it, where is it, where is it?" You hissed, searching blindly for the item you're always sure to keep near your bedside in case of a situation just like this. It didn't take long before your fingers grazed the smooth rubber grip of your old-reliable baseball bat. You let out a cautious exhale and moved silently towards the door, careful to avoid the floorboards that squeak.

Keeping your back against the wall, you stepped into the short hall. You could hear more clearly without the separation of your bedroom door; the heavy footsteps and low grumbling voice. It wasn't just your sleep hazed mind playing a nasty trick; there was someone in your goddamn apartment. A combination of fear and rage heated the blood currently rushing through your veins, the thundering of your pulse almost deafening in your ears.

Another loud bang sounded through your apartment and your shoulders tensed.

Were they even trying to be quiet? What a shitty burglar. They should've done their research before busting in. You were a broke college student working at a freaking campus cafe just barely able to afford paying your rent every month. The most valuable thing in your apartment was probably the ultra soft two ply toilet paper you'd splurged on last time you went shopping for basic necessities.

And you'd be sure to bash the bastard's head in before he could lay his greedy fingers on your precious two ply.

Letting out your fiercest battle cry, you swung your bat over your head and launched yourself out from behind the wall, poised for the attack. The man in your kitchen, who was elbow deep in your snack cabinet, shrieked (incredibly un-burglar-like, you might add). The sound was so high pitched and sharp that you flinched, startled as he whirled around clumsily, not only banging his elbows but tripping over his own feet in the process. You were barely able to catch a glimpse of his face before he fell, disappearing behind the counter.

But something about that scream was vaguely... familiar?

"Jungkook?"

The top of his head peeked out from behind the countertop, familiar doe eyes blinking back at you sheepishly. "Hi, noona."

The tension in your shoulders immediately melted upon realizing that you in fact not being robbed by an armed lunatic— rather, you were being robbed by your annoying next door neighbor. Again.

"Are you out of your mind?!" You hissed sharply, frustration flaring, "it's fucking three in the morning! Why the hell are you in my apartment?"

"I was hungry!"

"That doesn't explain why you're here!"

"I was craving ramyeon but I ran out! And– and you always have extra anyway so I thought you wouldn't mind!"

"Ha! You thought I wouldn't mind—" You gritted your teeth, on the verge of seething when you noticed he was still ducked behind the counter. "Why are you still hiding? Get over here." So I can beat your ramyeon stealing ass, you added in your head.

"Drop the bat— then we can talk." He bargained, nodding pointedly towards your weapon, still poised for attack.

Grunting, you reluctantly released the handle, letting it fall to the floor with a sharp clang.

Jungkook let out a low breath of relief, before meekly stepping out from his position behind the counter. Your eyes immediately dropped to his hands, still desperately clutching onto two packets of ramyeon.

Pinning him with a glare meant to reprimand, you crossed your arms firmly over your chest. "Jungkook, you can not keep—" your scolding was abruptly interrupted by a low, thunderous rumbling, your gaze jumping in surprise to the younger boy's face, which was now donning an embarrassed blush. "W– was that your stomach?"

Sucking his lips into his mouth, he nodded, head dropping in shame.

A wave of sympathy washed over you upon realizing just how hungry he must be. Any anger at having your sleep ever so rudely disrupted quickly fizzled out, the tension in your shoulders dissipating as he shuffled his feet shyly.

"Geez, this brat." You muttered under your breath, trudging over to where he stood and snatching the ramyeon packets from his grasp. He looked up at you with wide, pitiful eyes, and you could tell he thought that you were going to kick him to the curb. Instead, you jerked your chin into the direction of the couch and said, "go sit down while I make these. Don't need you hovering over my damn shoulder."

It would be a lie to say your heart didn't flutter a little at the sheer amount of excitement that lit up his face, pink lips breaking into a wide, uncontainable grin. Deciding not to push his luck, he quickly bobbed his head and scampered over to the couch, tossing a bubbly, "thank you, noona!" over his shoulder as he went.

You scoffed, though the corners of your mouth tipped upwards in spite of yourself.

The kid was cute. You'd give him that much. With those big shiny eyes and that stupid bucktoothed grin. Even if he was a perpetual trespasser and a food thief to boot, you'd let his little indiscretions slide... for now.

The ramyeon didn't take long to make, but, even all the way across the room, you could practically hear Jungkook's stomach growling up a storm by the time you were pouring it into two separate bowls. He was squirming on the couch, peaking over the back of it with wide, wanting eyes, damn near drooling at the mere smell of the sodium soaked noodles.

"Don't spill," you warned with a click of your tongue as made your way to the couch, handing him one of the bowls, "eat this, then go home, alright?"

Jungkook was already stuffing his cheeks before you'd even finished speaking, but he paused to pout over at you upon processing your words. "Noona..." he gurgled in soft whine around his mouth full of noodles, making sure to swallow before he finished, "why do you want me to leave so badly? You're hurting my feelings."

You scoffed as he pressed a large hand to his chest, wincing dramatically as if your words had somehow truly wounded him. "Do I have to remind you that it's 3am? I was sleeping. I would like to go back to sleep. I was having a very good dream before you fucking broke in to my apartment and tried to rob me." You hissed, plopping down on the couch beside him and shoveling your ramyeon into your own mouth.

Damn. That shit was good.

"I wasn't robbing you." He protested weakly. You raised an unconvinced brow. "Just... borrowing."

You barked out a laugh. "Oh? So you were planning to return all the snacks you were about to steal?" His eyes lowered, a guilty pout turning the corners of his mouth downwards. "Yeah, didn't think so."

"Still..." he grumbled bitterly, looking up at you through his thick lashes. "I'm much more fun than sleep."

You snorted. "I beg to differ."

There was an uncharacteristic lull of silence, and you spared a questioning glance in Jungkook's direction, not expected to be greeted by the astonished expression painted across his face.

He looked... genuinely offended.

"Noona," he sounded rather distraught as he set his half eaten bowl down on the coffee table before turning his body fully towards you, "how could you say that?"

Your brows lifted expectantly, confusion swimming in your gaze. "What?" You laughed lightly, not understanding why he suddenly seemed upset. You were just joking around... had you accidentally hit a nerve?

"You have fun with me." He insisted once more, a certain desperation to his words.

"Yeah... when it's not 3am."

"Liar." He scowled, gaze dropping to where his fingers were tracing miscellaneous shapes on the fabric of your couch. "That's when you have the most fun with me."

His voice had dropped into a low whisper at that last part, so you had to strain your ears a bit to make out exactly what it was he was saying. At first, you were confused. The most fun...? But then you saw the faint blush coating his cheeks, the shy fluttering of his lashes, the nervous fidgeting of his fingers...

And it clicked.

A few weeks ago, you did something stupid. Something you shouldn't have done. You'd given into urges that should have remained buried deep, deep inside of you.

"Jungkook." Your voice held a warning pitch as you growled his name. He shuddered ever so faintly at the shift in your tone and quickly turned away from you, snagging his lower lip tightly between his teeth.

"It's true..." he grumbled petulantly, kicking his foot lightly against the leg of your coffee table.

You stared at his profile through furrowed brows, gaze hard and unwavering as you set your own bowl onto the table. "We talked about this, Jungkook. We agreed not to bring it up again!"

"No, you— you made that decision all on your own." He protested quickly, thrusting an accusing finger in your direction. "I made no such promise."

"Jungkook," you sighed heavily, squeezing your eyes shut and pressing your fingers into your temples as they throbbed, "what I did—"

"We," he corrected, leveling you with a stubborn glare, "what we did. Stop acting like I wasn't a willing participant."

"You're a kid—"

"I'm nineteen! I can make my own decisions!"

"No. You can't."

At that, his expression hardened, lips pursing, fingers curling into tight fists, eyes flaring with determination.

"Watch me."

In the next second he was on top of you, straddling your lap, large hands cradling your jaw as he pressed his warm lips purposefully to yours.

Startled, your hands leapt to hold his waist, instinctively steadying him. The rest of your body remained stiff and unresponsive, frozen in shock from the sheer unexpectedness of the kiss. It wasn't until Jungkook let out a soft, pleading whine against your unmoving mouth that you were kickstarted back into motion.

"Jungkook," you gasped out his name, somewhat more breathlessly than you intended, hands rushing between your bodies to push him away by the swells of his firm chest, "w–what are you—"

"You want me." The younger boy swiftly interrupted, his warm breath caressing your lips as his fingers gripped gently at the back of your neck. "You want me. You can't deny it. You said so."

You were goddamn dizzy. "When did I—"

"Fuck, Jungkook. You have no idea how long I've wanted this. How long I've wanted you." It took you an extra second to realize that he was quoting back your words from that night. Word for fucking word. Heat rushed to your face, your hand gripping harder at the thin fabric of his top.

"How do you even remember that." You grumbled bitterly, embarrassed at having been called out.

The corner of his mouth curled into a small, teasing smile. "I have a pretty good memory."

"Bullshit," you scoffed, "I can't count the number of times you've forgotten to bring back the shit that you 'borrowed' from me. I bet you have a fucking closet full of my sweatshirts."

"I didn't forget... I just didn't want to give them back." He informed you in a soft, lilting hum, running his thumb over the smooth cut of your jaw.

"Thief." You spat, but the word lacked any real fire. It sounded weak on your tongue, a soft fluttering of breath that easily could have been mistaken for a moan. You saw his eyes drop to your mouth, desire pooling within them, so thick and dark that you felt it polluting the air around you, polluting your lungs with every jagged inhale.

He shifted on top of you, strong thighs squeezing around your hips. You tried to pretend that you didn't feel the press of something hot and hard against the top of your leg, but the tremble of your eyes and the clench of your fingers were not easily mistaken.

Jungkook sunk his teeth into the delicate flesh of his lower lip, and your gaze followed the motion unconsciously. You didn't even realize you were staring at his mouth until he spoke in that low, hoarse whisper, ripping you violently from your trance.

"Can I take a little more?"

Your brain was screaming at you to say no, screaming at you to not be selfish, to not be greedy. To not want something so terribly that you felt it trembling through your very bones. You shouldn't want this. Shouldn't want him. He was too young, too naive, too sensitive. You'd break the poor boy before he even realized what happened.

You should say no.

Mind made up, you opened your mouth, fully prepared to reject the boy and put a stop to whatever the hell this had become, right then and there. You were prepared to be the responsible senior that you needed to be, for both his sake and yours.

But what actually came out was something entirely different.

"Yes."

Jungkook barely had time to let out a happy whimper before his mouth was back on yours. A soft groan rumbled in your chest as your arms curled around his slim waist, tugging him ever closer. Long fingers tangled in your hair, he gently tugged your head back, leaning himself over you in order to deepen the kiss. You permitted him to do so without resistance, lips parting to allow his eager tongue to invade your mouth.

His body was hot and heavy above yours, but you didn't mind the added weight, the pressure on your thigh probably the only thing keeping you grounded. Because the heat between your legs was a anything but grounding. Sticky and wet, an accumulation of unspoken need and neglected lust that refused to be ignored for even a moment longer. A bleary haze fell over your mind, all the blood in your head suddenly rushing downwards to feed the growing flames in your groin.

The first roll of his hips was so minute, so slight that you would have missed it completely had it not been for the soft, airy moan that escaped his throat. The second was less than subtle, a hard, deliberate grind that rocked his already half-hard erection against your stomach. You felt it there, where your shirt had ridden up to expose a thin strip of skin, the front of his sweatpants growing thick and damp with his steadily increasing arousal. Your grip around him tightened, nails biting into his clothed hips hard enough to have crimson flowers blossoming across his golden flesh.

The sting coaxed a strained moan from Jungkook's inflamed lips, the rolling of his hips growing more frantic. You were quick to steady them, not wanting him to overexcite himself too soon.

"Calm down." Even in your own ears, you voice sounded thick and unstable, and you silently cursed yourself for having gotten so worked up by a mere kiss. But, in your defense, it was one hell of a kiss.

"I'm calm." He insisted unconvincingly through harsh pants, fighting for oxygen but not willing to pull away from you lips long enough to actually breathe. Quite the dilemma.

You chuckled softly, sliding a hand up to grip his jaw, preventing his mouth from finding yours for just long enough to soothe the fierce burn in your lungs. He took that opportunity to strip himself of his top, tossing it haphazardly to the floor.

You felt your stomach tighten, taken off guard by the unexpectedly display of glowing, sun-kissed skin you found before you, stretched across thick, toned muscle that flexed and tightened with even the most minuscule of movements. Subconsciously, your tongue slipped out of your suddenly dry mouth, dragging over your swollen lips.

Jungkook mimicked the motion, reaching down with ink embroidered hands to grip your wrists, gently guiding them up the length of his fit torso. "Touch me." It was a plea, the low whimper lacing the words a dead giveaway of his unyielding desperation.

You didn't hesitate to comply.

Pushing forward, you set vengeful teeth upon his prominent collarbone, biting down just hard enough to leave your mark. He moaned loudly, head falling back as your nails raked over his sensitive nipples. A violent shiver transversed his body, goosebumps rippling across his exposed skin that was set on fire by your greedy touch. He found the back of your head and neck with trembling hands, urging you closer without use of words. You kissed up the length of his taut throat, sucking and licking until you were content with the colorful array of bruises you'd left in your wake.

"Kiss me." You whispered against the defined curve of his jaw, wanting another taste of those pretty little lips. His head dropped forward obediently, mouth open and ready to be received by you. Fuck, he looked so hot from that angle; dark, hooded eyes pooling with lust so deep you could drown it it, kissable, rose petal lips glistening and swollen and just begging for attention, full cheeks flushed a dangerous shade of red that only enticed you further.

How could he look so ruined? You hadn't even touched his dick yet.

The thought roused a scoff in the back of your throat, and Jungkook pulled back slightly at the sound. "What?" He asked, the tip of his nose brushing yours.

"Nothing..." you grinned lazily, before kissing him slowly, deeply, lustfully; kissing him in such a way that the poor boy was trembling in your lap, gasping and whining by the time you pulled away with a lewd smack, lips wet and stained an erotic crimson. You chuckled as he swallowed, pupils blow and unfocused. Reaching up, you cupped his chin, rolling your thumb over his lower lip. He sighed, eyes fluttering as he teased the tip of the digit with his tongue.

"... just wanna put your dick in my mouth."

At that, his shimmering doe eyes popped open wide, shocked— then excited.

"Don't tease me." He pleaded weakly, hips stuttering over your thighs.

You reach between your bodies, taking the time to revere the fine-tuned slopes and edges of his ridged abdomen, before finally finding the hard outline of his flushed, angry cock straining against the thick fabric of his sweats. He gasped brokenly at the contact, forehead falling against your shoulder as he gripped desperately onto your arms, dull nails digging into your biceps. You turned, smirking lips feathering over the shell of his pink tinted ear.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

And then, he was on his back.

Jungkook let out a squeak of surprise, chest heaving as he attempted to process the sudden change in position. But you didn't give him the chance, slotting yourself between his spread thighs

"W– we didn't do this last time." He stuttered clumsily, staring up at you with those wide, dangerously innocent eyes that made you want to absolutely wreck him.

"No, we didn't." You confirmed, nipping lightly at one of his pert brown nipples. He jolted, letting out a low, unsteady moan of your name, a cry for your attention.

"S– sensitive, noona."

God, he is so fucking cute.

"I'll be gentle." The reassurance did little to soothe the violent thundering of his heart, the heavy thrum of it setting his every limb to shaking.

He was nervous. You could tell. Understandably.

Truth is— Jungkook was a virgin.

Key word: was.

As in, before he broke into your apartment at 3am on that fateful morning where you lost your cool because damn did you he look good in that skin tight black t-shirt that showed off those sexy tattoos and those thigh hugging black skinny jeans that squeezed his cute butt in all the right places. Of course, you didn't discover that until after the deed was done (seeing as he hadn't had the mind to tell you while your tongue was shoved halfway down his throat).

But god, you felt so guilty. You'd never taken anyone's virginity before. And you weren't so sure fucking on a kitchen counter was the most... romantic way of losing it. It had been quick, messy, all sweat and teeth and nails, the blunt edge of the cold counter digging into your ass.

Sure, it felt fucking amazing, and you'd received no complaints from Jungkook's end. But still. Had you known, you would've been... gentler. Or, at the very least, you would have had the tact to take him to bed.

You hadn't even blown him for fucks sake.

So, if you were doing this —and, as it appeared, you were most definitely doing this— then goddamnit, you were going to do it right and make up for all the things you hadn't done his first time.

You descended his body slowly, taking your sweet time licking and nibbling over all his lovely curves and sharp edges, marking the places you'd been with pink, flowering bruises. His head kicked back, mouth falling open around an onslaught of heady moans as he reveled in your unrelenting affections. Distracted, he didn't even notice you slipping his pants down his legs until the cool air hit the sensitive tip of his weeping cock.

"N– noona!" He propped himself up on his elbows, desperate to see you, to find your eyes through the disorienting cloud of lust he found himself engulfed in. Arousal spun his brain into useless mush inside of his skull at the sight of you between his legs, looking right back up at him, pretty mouth hovering just above his hard need, soft breath caressing the feverish skin.

"Relax, Jungkook. It'll feel good." You chuckled, pressing a soothing kiss to his hip.

"I– I know," he swallowed, and you didn't miss the dark blush creeping into his cheeks as his eyes fluttered shyly, "I just— I want to make you feel good... too... b- because last time you didn't..."

Last time you didn't...?

Oh.

"Okay," you hummed simply, pushing yourself up with an easy smile, "I can think of a solution."

Jungkook watched with bated breath as you stood, damn near choking on his own spit when you abruptly shoved your pajama shorts down your legs. "N- no underwear?" He whispered, voice hoarse and strained as he stared unabashedly at the bare expanse of smooth skin between your thighs, glistening with sticky wetness.

You smirked faintly, appreciating the reverence glistening in his melting brown eyes. "For convenience sake," you teased.

He flopped down on the couch with a dramatic groan. "Fuck, you're killing me."

Leaning over the younger boy, you pressed a deep, purposeful kiss to his delicate, lovely lips, eliciting an appreciative moan from his burning chest.

"Don't worry..." you pulled back, breathing the words into his open mouth, "I'll do it slow."

"Fuck..." he squeaked.

Laughing softly, you dropped your knees to the edge of the sofa and splayed a hand over his toned stomach. He was hard and warm to the touch, and you liked the way his muscles flinched and fluttered beneath your palm.

"I'll tell you what I'm gonna do," you pressed your lips to his throat, feeling the way it bobbed as he swallowed, "I'm gonna get on top of you..." you walked your fingers down towards where his dick lay, red and leaking across his belly, "and you're going to eat me out," he moaned shakily against your cheek, hands lifting to grip your arms, "while I suck your pretty little cock. How's that sound?"

"S– so good. Fuck, that sounds so fucking good." He pulled at you greedily, begging you with wide, wanting eyes.

You caved to him all too easily, carefully maneuvering your body until you were situated above him, knees planted on the cushion on either side of his head. Hot breath rushed over your exposed core, sending shivers ricocheting down your spine. Hands gripped at your thighs, rough and calloused against your skin. He was pulling again, whining out soft, shuddering "please, please, please" as he tugged at your hips, trying to get you closer. Closer.

Teasingly, you kept your hips raised, just out of reach of his ravenous mouth, so eager to steal a taste. "Noona," he whined petulantly, "don't be cruel."

Cruel? You nearly scoffed. You haven't even begun.

Regardless, you decided to end the torture there, lowering your hips until you were within his reach. He didn't let a moment pass before his tongue was on you, lapping eagerly at your wet slit. You gasped, clutching tightly onto the thick muscles of his thighs, your own legs growing weak under his relentless ministrations.

Holy shit. You didn't expect it to feel that good.

It was only when Jungkook's hips bucked beneath you, a pleading whimper vibrating through your center, that you realized you weren't fulfilling your end of the deal. Stuttering back into motion, you encircled his hard length in an unsteady hand, feeling the raw heat of it throbbing angrily within your grasp.

"You're good with your tongue, baby." You chuckled breathlessly, pumping him slowly with the help of his spilling precum. He moaned in response to the praise, long fingers digging in hard to the flesh of your ass. Another, more violent tremble wracked your body as his tongue dragged over your sensitive clit, the responding rush of pleasure pulling a low groan from your chest.

Shit, if he kept that up—

Feeling that you'd given him enough of a head start, you dipped down, swiftly engulfing his glistening tip in your lips. Jungkook gasped against you, and you could almost picture his eyes snapping wide open, jaw going slack. The blissful pressure of his tongue gave way to cold air as he tensed and shuddered beneath you, all those hard, rigid muscles turning to jelly as he processed the mind numbing sensation of your mouth around his cock. It was an unwelcome absence, and you quickly found yourself growing impatient and —shamefully enough— needy, your aching core craving attention.

But Jungkook was a mess beneath you, moaning and whining pathetically as his hips bucked and spasmed, entirely overwhelmed. His arms were wrapped around your waist, holding you so tightly you were certain you'd be feeling it tomorrow. You felt his tongue, sloppy and uncoordinated lapping at your folds with a desperation that set your blood to flames. The vibrations of his sounds resonated through your clit, and you hastened your own movement, feeling yourself clench and throb with your impending release.

You pulled off of him with a lewd pop, a thin string of saliva connecting his swollen tip to your lower lip, before sliding your hands beneath his ample thighs and tugging.

"Lift your legs for me, baby."

He obeyed immediately, feet rising from the cushion, too lost in your intoxicating taste to second guess what you were planning. At least, not until he felt your touch shifting from his thighs to his ass, and a warm, wet dribble of saliva sliding over his hole. He flinched violently, a gasp shooting from his lips at the unfamiliar sensation.

"Ah–! N- Noona, where are you touching—" he yelped, trying to sit up and catch a glimpse around the shape of your body. Swinging your ankles up to rest against his shoulders, you forced him back down, looking back at him from over your shoulder with a cocked brow and a seductive grin.

"Where do you think?" You chuckling teasingly. "Are you clean?"

"Yeah..." he whispered shyly, and you could practically feel the heat of his blush radiating against your skin as he confessed, "I– I showered before coming over..."

"Good." You slid a single finger over the ring of muscle, watching in amusement as it fluttered and clenched in response to the unsubstantial caress. "Tell me if you need me to stop, alright?"

At first he only nodded, but choked out a soft "okay" when you pinched his thigh, urging him to use his words.

Purring out a low praise, you returned to his cock, licking a thick strip from base to tip as your index slowly circled his entrance. Jungkook whined and squirmed, still trying his best to keep up with pleasuring you. It was cute, feeling and hearing him struggle.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wondered what kind of face he was making beneath your dripping cunt. Were his eyes rolling to the back of his head? Was his tongue hanging out of his mouth? Was his feverish skin glistening with a mixture of his sweat and your arousal? Fuck, you were so curious.

In an attempt to stifle your frustration over not getting to see what kind of fucked out expression he wore, you sunk the tip of your digit into his hole, down to the first knuckle. Jungkook gasped at the unexpected intrusion, his already hard grip on your thighs tightening further. Even with just the tip in, he was clenching hard, and you allowed him a handful of moments to adjust to the sensation. You hummed around his length, swirling your tongue expertly over his sensitive tip to distract from any momentary discomfort he might've been feeling.

It seemed to work well enough, his body gradually relaxing around you as he let out soft, airy moans, delicate whispers of your name fluttering from his lips. "You can—" he whimpered as you licked his slit, "you can put it in deeper."

Heat coiled in your gut, a wicked smirk spreading across your face. "You want it deeper, kookie?" There was a taunting pitch to your words that had the boy curling in on himself, skin hot with embarrassment. When he made no effort to respond, you squeezed your free hand around the thick base of his dick, wrenching a cry from his throat. "If you want it deeper, you have to ask nicely."

"You're so mean, Noona." He whined hoarsely, the muscles in his legs tensing sporadically from the effort it was taking to not fuck himself into your closed fist.

"That didn't sound like a question..."

Jungkook groaned weakly, head tossed back in a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. There was a beat, and then you felt the shy press of his lips against your clit accompanied by a light flick of his tongue.

"P– please put it in deeper, Noona..."

"Mmm, good boy," you emphasized the praise by slipping the rest of your finger into his tight heat, spitting once more to ensure substantial lubrications.

"Ngh— oh f– fuck—"

"Does it hurt?"

"No it just..." he swallowed thickly, "feels a little weird."

"This should help with that," you murmured, more so to yourself than him, curling your finger in search of that small bundle of nerves that would make him—

"Ah! Oh fuck!"

A smug grin settled across your lips. Found it.

Jungkook moaned loudly, tossing his head back, hips bucking violently as you rolled your finger against his prostate, sending tendrils of white hot pleasure bursting through his body. That's more like it.

"Feel good?"

"Yes! Yes! Feels– ah! Feels so good, noona," he sobbed brokenly, clutching onto your legs. You thrust your finger into him slowly, making sure to ease him into the feeling of having something inside of him. If you played this right, perhaps he'd let you do more than just finger him. You had toys sitting in your closet that you were just dying to use. Who better on than the cute snack thief next door?

"Think you can take another?" You asked, a bit eager to stretch him out, to see how much he could handle.

He nodded quickly, grinding his hips greedily down onto your finger, wanting it deeper, harder, faster. "Please. Please. I want more."

"Needy little slut." You laughed dryly, nudging your middle finger against the rim of his wet hole. You sure as hell didn't miss the way his pretty cock twitched in response to the degrading words, and a whole new round of excitement festered inside of you.

You were going to have so much fun with him.

It took a bit of careful prodding before you managed to press the length of your second digit inside of him, his tight walls clamping down around the invading appendages.

"Please move." He begged pathetically.

You planted a steadying palm to his hips as they began to buck, holding them down against the cushion. "You're too tight, sweetheart."

"I– I can't help it." He whined, a distressed cry breaking from his heaving chest.

Sympathy swirled in your belly. You could damn near feel the desperation radiating from his body in thick, hot waves. Dipping your head, you pressed a light kiss to the swollen, red head of his shuddering cock.

"Then let me help you relax."

Jungkook sobbed as you took him into your mouth, the warmth of your skilled tongue tracing a slow ring around the underside of his tip sending his head into a tailspin. It wasn't long before you felt the tension in his muscles melting away, quickly snatching the opportunity to start fucking your fingers into him. The pace you set was slow and steady, but you made sure that with every thrust you were brushing against his prostate.

The amount of pleasure rushing through his body at that point was overwhelming, and he'd been reduced to a moaning, crying mess beneath you. Any words he managed to choke out between his sounds of bliss was broken and unintelligible on swollen lips. A small corner of your mind was concerned about your neighbors, wondering if they could hear his wailing through the dangerously thin walls.

"N– Noona— it's so good, oh my god feels so fucking good—"

Fuck. To hell with the neighbors. They should be goddamn grateful.

You sped up the pace of your fingers, burying them down to the knuckle with each thrust. He was writhing now, unable to control his body let alone keep still as he was engulfed in a mind numbing heat. It wrapped itself around his every limb, his every sense overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of his impending release.

"I– I think I'm gonna—" he couldn't even make it through his warning before he was cut off by his own whimpers. Luckily, you didn't need him to finish his sentence to know what he was trying to say. The signs were obvious enough, especially with the way his wall were throbbing around your fingers, the way he was pulsing between your lips, lathering the back of your tongue with an onslaught his salty pre-cum.

You hastened your ministrations, taking him off guard as your plunged down on his cock, stopping only when your lips met the sweat-slick skin of his pelvis. Jungkook cried out a shattered version of your name, unable to stop his hips from jerking up violently at the feeling of your throat constricting around him as you swallowed.

That seemed to be the last push he needed, because within the next second he was writhing and spilling hot cum down your throat, walls clamping down so hard around your fingers you worried they might break.

It was like nothing he'd every experienced before, he could feel it in every single part of his body. From his curled toes to his trembling finger tips, every last inch of him was devastated by the hurricane of erotic bliss. And unlike every other orgasms he'd experienced in the past, the high of it last way longer than just a few seconds. By the time it finally began to fade, he was still shaking.

You pulled your fingers out of him as gently as you could, but he still whimpered at the sensitivity, quivering legs squeezing shut. Maneuvering around so that you were draped over his chest, you whispered soft apologies against his throat and jaw, spilling soothing kisses across the flushed, perspiring skin. Jungkook curled into you, nuzzling his cheek against the top of your head.

For a while you stayed like that, letting him bask in the post-orgasmic bliss as you bathed him in the kind of tender affection that he wasn't used to receiving from you. But, you'd always considered aftercare a vital part of a good sexual experience so, even if it was a bit out of character, you were more than happy to tell him just how good he'd been for you. And he was more than happy to relish in your praise.

"Noona?" He called for your attention suddenly, after his breathing had finally evened out and the deep crimson coating his cheeks had faded into an endearing pink.

"Yes?"

Against your lips, you felt him swallow.

"You didn't cum, did you?"

"I didn't." You admitted after a beat, suddenly reminded of the ache between your legs. You'd managed to be distracted from it, entirely too focused on breaking Jungkook in all the best ways to be concerned with receiving any pleasure. But now, you found yourself very much aware of just how badly you were craving your own release. Subconsciously, you squeezed your legs together.

There was a pause.

"Noona."

"Hm?"

"Sit on my face."

The demand had your hooded eyes flying wide open, mouth freezing mid-kiss.

"... please." He remedied in a bashful whisper.

For a moment, your brain went blank, not fully processing the request. But when it finally did, there were only two words that flooded into your mind and rushed from your lips in a breathless, excited murmur.

Fuck yes.

2K notes · View notes

inkykeiji · 3 years

Text

you be the match, i will be your fuse

fluffy anon said: dabi coming home after an absolutely horrid day at work and just needing to be absolutely BABIED by reader (i’m talking cuddling in bed, taking a bath with him and washing his hair then getting out just rubbing his back as he sleeps with his head on your chest)

genre: angst + fluff, laced with just a hint of smut (like two sentences)

notes: aaaah happy birthday dabi!!! this has absolutely nothing to do with your birthday but eeee ily | title cred: sure thing by miguel

warnings: 18+, implied/mentioned death of a child, one instance of implied past physical abuse, self-destructive behaviour + coping mechanisms, co-dependent toxic relationship

words: 3.5k

It’s thundering the day it happens, ferocious growls that rumble through your apartment—a tiny, quaint space you share with Dabi, full of faulty appliances and cracked linoleum—rolling, fluffy grey clouds blanketing the entire sky, swollen with restrained rain droplets as a storm brews within them. Little fingers idly toy with the yellowed pages of your worn pulp fiction novel, flipping through them and bending corners as your eyes search the angry sky, chewing on your cheek.

Dabi should’ve been home by now. It’s not like him to be late without calling, without letting his babygirl know what’s going on—he knows the way you worry, the way you overthink yourself into a frenzy, the way you’re so clingy and needy, teases you about it incessantly and tells you he thinks it’s cute—and a deep sense of dread takes root in the pit of your stomach, dark and bitter and unfurling, quickly spreading throughout the cavity of your chest.

His phone must be off—no, it’s never off, he doesn’t do that anymore, not since you stumbled into his life—his phone must be dead, your repeated calls growing increasingly frequent and urgent every time you’re greeted with the drone of his automatic voicemail.

Something’s wrong, horribly so.

It’s evident the moment he arrives home, scratched brass doorknob slamming against the wall, deepening the crater its left from past incidents of a similar manner.

It infects the air around him, hanging heavy and thick, its dense presence nearly suffocating. His shoulders slump under the pressure, the weight of whatever he’s carrying practically crushing, as he drags his crimson splattered boots through the front door, soles scraping against the cheap hardwood, bringing the putrid scent of charred flesh with him—his or someone else’s, you don’t know.

You swear you can almost see it, this—this thing, this aura, enveloping him in its haughty embrace as his chest heaves under a deep, controlled breath, pausing in the foyer as the door shuts behind him.

Bare feet pad against the floor, your legs moving without your explicit permission, drawn towards him in an almost instinctual manner, the desire to care for, to comfort, burning as it bubbles up in your chest, mixing with that intense sense of trepidation and invading your veins.

He permits you to wrap your arms around his torso as you nuzzle against him, body going rigid for a moment, still and stiff as marble, before he exhales again, melting into your embrace.

Several questions race through your mind at such a speed that they crash and clash together, becoming nothing more than incoherent jumbled lettering, tiny fingers curling in the fabric of his clothing as you try to pull him closer, nonsensical babbling spilling from your lips. A vacant ghost of a chuckle leaves his lips, nothing more than a simple huff of breath, and he squeezes you closer.

“Bad day?” the words are mumbled against his dirty t-shirt, what was once a pristine white now tarnished with ash and blood. You don’t get a response—you don’t expect one.

He doesn’t talk much, not on days like this.

He doesn’t need to.

Bad days—really bad, terrible, awful days such as this one—are surprisingly rare with Dabi. Sure, he’s had the typical ‘bad’ day before, where someone pisses him off, or he gets into a fight with his superior, but those bad days usually require railing you into your creaky, springy king-sized mattress until you’ve forgotten everything but his name and he’s fucked all of the anger and hatred out of his body.

They are not like this one. No, on days such as this, on days where he’s killed someone he deems to be innocent, someone who—like him—is a victim of heroism, he’s quiet, distant, unpredictable, bordering on unhinged, and you’ve learned to tread with extreme discretion.

But you don’t push, either, resolving to communicate through gentle touches, soft fingertips that run along his tense, broad shoulders and press into the hard coiled muscles, tender fingers that thread through inky tufts of hair, sapphire eyes closing as he hums and leans into the motion like a cat.

It’s only for a second, though, just a moment of weakness before he’s breaking out of your embrace, pushing past you and clearing his throat, glass door to the balcony sliding shut a moment later.

You don’t follow. You know better than that now, a phantom sting in your cheek serving as a reminder, the resounding sharp sound of glass shattering as it’s hurled at the floor slicing through your mind with such viciousness it makes you wince.

Instead, you sit. And you wait. Like you’re supposed to, like a good little girl, a book clutched between your quivering hands, unblinking eyes staring at the words on the page, nothing but incomprehensible symbols—lines and lines of black ink in meaningless shapes—as scorching sapphire loops through your mind.

Be a good girl, give him space, let him come to you. Be a good girl, give him space, let him come to you. Be a good girl. Give him space. Let him come to you.

It’s standard procedure, really.

And eventually, he does, comes back inside with an empty bottle of whiskey clutched in a hand, along with a crumpled package of cigarettes. You don’t know how long it’s been, muscles sore and joints aching from sitting in the same position for so long, eyes dry from staring at the same page, barely moving, barely breathing. His hand is bleeding, knuckles bruised and gleaming with sticky scarlet that’s still fresh and flowing, but it could be worse. It has been worse.

The harsh clink of the bottle against the kitchen counter makes you flinch, and he sighs, heavy and full of derision, eyes flicking up to glare at your side profile.

“I can hear you thinking,”

“You’re filthy, baby,” the words tumble past your lips, uncontrollable, involuntary, almost reflexive in your response, eyes snapping to his face and voice whiny, voice pleading. “Take a bath with me,”

And you can see it—can see it in the dark cobalt of his irises, what he needs, the very thing he’s fighting himself on, the very thing he’s fighting so hard against. Always so stubborn, so reluctant, so cautious.

Because, fuck, he used to be able to resist it, this pathetic ache for comfort—something that’s only managed to grow in your presence, that’s shifted and morphed from a dull smoldering to a raging fire, an insatiable longing for your fingers in his hair and your breath on his skin and your voice against his ear—a skill he’d been constructing, developing, perfecting, since he was thirteen years old. A skill you succeeded in shattering in the matter of a few measly months.

Because you—you’re different. And he hates it sometimes, he swears to the good Lord he does, but hating it doesn’t make it any less true. You break him down, you make him weak, you make him want, and the longer he spends around you, the more he finds that he doesn’t fucking care. And that’s irritating, that’s exciting, that’s terrifying, that’s new.

Fury blisters his chest, his lungs, his throat as he holds your stare, jaw clenching twice. But you don’t falter, not like the rest of them, not like anyone else—everyone else. You never falter, always so eager to see the good in him, a snort leaving his nose at the thought. The good in him. Is there any good left in him? Was there ever any good in him in the first place? Are you the good in him, now? Does he care?

And he’s not sure he’ll ever understand it, but he’s beginning to realize that, maybe, he doesn’t have to.

Maybe, it doesn’t matter. Maybe, it’s okay, if you love him, if he loves you.

Maybe.

It’s too much, and he can feel frustration stinging his eyes, long delicate eyelashes fluttering as he quickly blinks it away. Spears, sharp and cold, splinter your chest at the sight, but you know if you begin crying too, you’ll lose him. You know that if you begin showing what he considers weakness, he’ll pull away, even though this is what he so clearly needs most.

So you steel yourself, swallowing hard against the pain collecting in your throat, will the tears away and force your body to stay calm, approaching him slowly as if he’s some sort of feral animal prone to lashing out.

Apprehension is clear in his azure eyes, head tilting a little as they narrow, regarding you with skepticism, with suspicion.

It’s bold, and dangerous, and—as far as Dabi’s concerned—fucking stupid, but you don’t care, determined to prove to him that you aren’t going anywhere regardless of how many tantrums he throws, no matter how many times he hurts you in his anguish. It’s almost desperate, really, this sheer need to prove to him that you aren’t scared of him, that irrespective of how soft he seems to think you are, you are strong, even if it’s in ways he could never understand, that you can be strong for him, when he needs it, that he can borrow some of your strength, if he needs to.

And that—that’s why he loves you. It hits him hard, as this realization always does, kicks him in the chest and knocks the breath out of him every time, and he’s not sure he’ll ever get used to it.

A tiny hand hangs in the air between the two of you, Dabi regarding the offer with a wary hesitance. Wiggling fingers attempt to entice him, earning a tiny smirk—a massive victory—as sapphire flits up to gaze at you through thick lashes, an eyebrow raised.

You match his expression, quirking an eyebrow of your own and nodding at your hand, speaking a moment later.

“Let me in, baby,” the words are barely above a whisper, but they’re so raw, filled with so much unadulterated love it hurts, pure and real and everything he’s never had before. “Let me help,”

And, God, it’s fucking overwhelming, how badly he wishes to give in to this unfamiliar compassion, how desperately he desires your affection, despite the malicious voice echoing off the walls of his skull, berating him for being so pathetic, so weak, so vulnerable.

But the urge to accept, to seek out consolation in you, wins, just as it always does, that nasty voice reverberating in his mind silenced the very instant his skin touches yours.

You let him make the last move, allow him to make that final decision entirely on his own accord, to grasp your hand in his, warm and rough, and pull you towards him, crushing you against his chest as he buries his face in your hair, eyes squeezed shut against that annoying burn of tears, chest stuttered with a hitched breath, air that gets caught in his throat as he chokes on the words he wants to say.

But he doesn’t need to say them. You already know.

“Come,” you murmur to him, fingers threading through the tufts of hair at the nape of his neck. “Let’s take a bath,”

✰ ✰ ✰

The bathwater stings your skin, just a hint too hot to be comfortable, but you say nothing as you settle onto his lap in the cramped little tub, encompassed by frothy bubbles, dainty scent of orange citrus tickling your nose.

Heated fingertips press into your hips as he finds comfort the only way he knows how to, in your precious little whimpers and broken moans of his name as he bounces you on his cock, so vigorously you’re positive you can feel him in your tummy, the pads of his fingers searing his prints into your skin.

It’s heady, it’s intoxicating, it’s addicting, heightened emotions both pleasant and unpleasant swirling together with the symphony of your cries and his grunts as the water you’re submerged in begins to bubble and boil, to crack and pop, sudsy liquid sloshing over the side of the tiny tub as he forces you to ride him, faster and faster and faster until you’re whining and convulsing around him, and he’s filling you with thick cum, cock throbbing aggressively as he spurts load after load into you.

After, as he leans back against the cold tile, residual droplets sizzling into steam as his heated skin touches them. Gentle fingers card between his hair, water cascading through onyx strands as it pours over his head from a worn plastic cup—a faded Darth Vader staring back at you as you rhythmically repeat your actions until the tresses stick to his forehead and cheeks, drenched and shining in the low light of the washroom.

Heavy lids obscure the most brilliant sapphire from you as shampoo is massaged into his scalp, slow and unhurried and thorough, every stroke, every comb through inky clumps easing the turmoil in his mind bit by bit, calming the storm that’s been raging inside of him for hours now. Deep hums rumble in his chest as your fingers continue their ministrations, your eyes trained on your motions. And you can feel it, the tension dissipating from his body with each circle of foam rubbed into his soft hair, shoulders finally beginning to relax as he subconsciously nuzzles into your touch, following it, longing for it, aching for more.

He shifts then, after you’ve rinsed the soap from his hair, manhandling you into a position between his thighs, bare chest pressed tightly against your back. You work hard to keep your body from tensing, forcing your breathing to stay even, to stay calm as you brace yourself for what’s coming next.

“He was eleven,” he says after several long moments of silence, voice low and trembling, hoarse and heavy with remorse. “This time.”

This time. That’s the third innocent civilian—innocent by his standards, at least—this month.

That’s the first time it’s ever been a child.

You don’t turn around to look at him, not yet—he isn’t finished—simply opting to lace your fingers through his and bring your joined hands to your lips, kissing each wounded knuckle, crude staples catching in the dim warm light of the tiny bathroom.

You want to tell him it wasn’t his fault, even though it was. You want to tell him anything that’ll make him feel better, that’ll absolve the guilt so evidently gnawing away at his insides, even though you know there’s nothing you can say.

“What are—I don’t even—” his voice breaks and you feel his chest stutter against your back, feel him exhale harshly, breath cool on your damp shoulder, feel him swallow thickly as he tries again. Because as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, as much as he would never admit it, you know he needs release this from the confines of his mind—you know you’re the only person who can offer him such an outlet. “Why the fuck were there kids there in the first place? Huh? They shouldn’t—They shouldn’t have been there,”

Orphans are everywhere in this city, you murmur, lips moving against his rough skin. He knows. Orphans of heroes. He knows.

“I’m gonna kill Shigaraki, I swear to Christ. Sending us to a—a fucking place infested with fucking ch-children,” his fingers curl around yours, hand beginning to shake as it clutches you like a lifeline, like that guilt will devour him from the inside out, like he’ll disintegrate into nothingness, if he doesn’t. “I bet you he fucking knew—nah, I-I’m positive he did. Asshole only cares about himself, though. Doesn’t matter that—that the cause we’re supposed to be fighting for affects these stupid kids,”

You’re right, love.

The words leave your lips in a gentle breath, leaning your head back against his collarbone and staring up at him. Cobalt eyes stay trained on the cracked tile wall, jaw methodically clenching as his molars grind together, an attempt to quell the trembling of his chin, exhaling hard harsh breaths through flared nostrils.

“Whatever,” he huffs, voice still wavering and not nearly as self-assured as he wishes. “Th-That brat shouldn’t have been there in the first place,”

He shouldn’t have, you agree, finally squirming in his grasp, turning to face him, to straddle his hips again in the tight space of the tub. And he welcomes your affections readily this time, arms encircling your waist as he holds you tightly to him, blunt nails digging purple-tinged crescents into your flesh as he shoves his face against your neck, finally allowing those emotions he’s been fighting to leak from his eyes and absorb into your skin.

Little palms rub soothing circles into his back as he shudders against you, allowing him to empty his soul onto you as soft lips press chaste kisses to his damp hair, waiting until there’s nothing left, until his eyes are drained, azure glassy and bloodshot, nose twitching and red.

And after he’s done, when he finally pulls back, scrubbing aggressively at his nose as tiny sniffles hitch in his chest, gentle fingers begin to lather soap into his skin, washing away the dirt and grime and blood from the day. Fingertips carefully trace along the metal sutures decorating his body with immeasurable adoration, you whispering all of the things he so desperately needs to hear that he’d never dare to ask for, complimented by the tender touches that cleanse his soul with their unconditional love.

He’s bigger than you are, but that doesn’t stop you from trying to wrap him in a fluffy white towel, using another in an attempt to dry his hair as your hands move in shaggy motions, heart soaring in your chest when you pull a soft laugh from his lips, wet and wobbly and croaky, but a laugh nonetheless.

A mutual silence, gentle and comforting and stuffed full of an immense love, a special kind of love, a love words do not exist to explain, swathes your bodies as he allows you to dress him, pulling a ratty old band tee over his head and a pair of plaid PJ pants up his legs.

“You always look so cute in my clothes,” he rasps from his spot perched on the edge of the bed, glowing crystal eyes watching as you pull one of his t-shirts over your naked body.

A genuine bubble of laughter erupts from your throat as you climb into bed with him, immediately allowing him to latch onto you, to pull you towards him, to hold you close like his own personal plushie.

“Sleep,” you murmur as the two of you settle into a comfortable position, limbs tangled together, his head resting on your chest, fingers threading through his hair and then tracing down his neck, his back. “And then I’ll make you ramen,”

“The spicy kind?”

“Of course,”

I love you.

“Extra spicy?”

Laughing again, you feel his lips curve into a smile against your skin, grip around your torso tightening. “Extra spicy. Now, rest,”

More than anything else.

“With the little fish cakes?”

“Your favourite little fish cakes,”

More than words could ever tell you.

“And the pork belly?”

“And the pork belly,” you feel his chest rise with an inhale, hastily adding, “And those little cream puffs you love so much, from that dingy convenience store downstairs, for dessert. Now sleep, baby,”

He laughs, even though his vision is blurring, even though it comes out more strangled than anything else, because he doesn’t want to cry again, because his chest stings and aches and swells and warms, full of inexplicable emotions, feels like it’s going to fucking burst as it chokes and reinvigorates him all at once, and—God, he loves you, he loves you, he loves you.

Because even though he’s terrified beyond belief, he’s willing to try—just for you, only for you—as he continually realizes with each passing day that he isn’t sure what the fuck he’d do without you, now. Because you’re too entangled up in his life, too deeply embedded in his very soul, for him to ever remove you, now. Because as petrifying and unfamiliar as it is, he doesn’t want to, now.

Because even though he’s broken, irrevocably so, and you can’t fix him, won’t fix him, you’ll still stay, to hold those pieces so gently, so tenderly in your hands, you’ll still protect those fragments and keep them from shattering further, you’ll still give them the affection and devotion they need, the affection and devotion they deserve. Because you love every part of him, even the bad ones, even the shards with jagged edges that cut into the soft flesh of your palms every time you caress them.

Because you accept him wholeheartedly, flaws and all, and that’s—he’s never experienced anything like that before, this unlimited, unreserved, unquestioning love. And although he doesn’t know how to say this, isn’t sure he’ll ever be able to find the right words to communicate it, he’s beginning to learn that unfamiliar doesn’t always mean bad; that sometimes, it’s okay—it’s good—to be vulnerable. He’s beginning to learn that with you, in the warmth of your shitty little apartment, with the stove that only has two functioning burners and the fridge that’s perpetually too cold, he can be, without judgement, without fear, without trepidation.

Because you are his only salvation, and he wouldn’t trade this for the goddamn world.

#dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi #todoroki touya #dabi fluff #dabi angst #aaaah this HURT #anyway big big big thank yous to mister for helping me come up with what we think dabi's favourite food would be #HAPPY BIRTHDAY DABIIIIIII

1K notes · View notes

dreamwritesimagines · 3 years

Text

Burn The Witch 13 - Trouble [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: Fights can be inevitable.

Series Masterlist

Oh God damn it.

This mission was not supposed to include anything from your real life, and it certainly was not supposed to include your real life ex-boyfriend.

Not only was this going to make things very, very complicated, it also put the entire operation in danger. No part of the background that was specifically created for your cover had any details on your ex relationships and you didn’t think you would have to come up with something now.

Well. For what it was worth, you weren’t the one who came up with it.

“Just joking man. I’m her ex-boyfriend but no worries, I pose no danger.”

Bucky didn’t even dignify that with an answer and you heaved a sigh, trying to control the anger bubbling in your stomach.

“Yeah,” you managed to say, “Yeah, we used to—um, we used to date.”

Bucky frowned, “Didn’t you say you moved here two months ago?”

“I did move here two months ago.”

“We used to date back in Oregon,” Julian explained and Bucky huhed.

“Yet here you are.”

“Yeah you know, the big apple,” Julian motioned around you, “I just got a job here and I figured I could come and see Y/N. Small town people have to look out for each other, you see.”

You gritted your teeth, watching him with narrowed eyes.

“She took you there yet?” Julian asked Bucky “Cannon Beach?”

“No,” you answered on his behalf and Julian clicked his tongue.

“I guess you could take him with you when you visit next month,” he said, “Surely you are visiting next month?”

“I don’t think I am.”

“Come on, no way.” he said, his voice filled with disbelief. “It’s sand castles contest time, you love that contest!”

Right.

Julian had always been the best at playing the civilian and memorizing the back story of any cover. He was great at lying and that was why every mission you had gone on with him was that easy, he could fool anyone.

Including you.

“She came in fourth place two years ago, she made this dragon castle, you should’ve seen it.” He told Bucky, and you rolled your eyes.

Fourth place.

Easy enough to make someone believe, hard enough to find a trace of on the internet.

Julian was an asshole for sure, but he was a great spy and now you were beginning to remember why though every mission with him was a success, you had still avoided it even before your break up.

This was what he did, he took over every single assignment, no matter who was the leader.

Not this time. This was your mission and your mission only.

“Y/N, did you….” Julian let out a chuckle, “Did you tell him about the time your grandma caught us at the—“

“It was good so see you,” you cut him off, glaring at him “But you should probably go now, I’m kind of busy.”

Julian paused only for a moment before holding up his hands, gesturing surrender.

“Okay,” he said, “It was nice to see you too. Again.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“It was nice to meet you Bucky,” he said, “Take care of yourself, Y/N.”

He walked away from you and you closed your eyes for a moment, leaning your head back to the wall.

“Fuck this shit,” you murmured under your breath without even realizing it wasn’t something your cover would say, and opened your eyes to look up at Bucky.

“Was he bothering you or something?” he asked you and you scoffed.

“Please,” you muttered but then pulled yourself together. “He’s not…that type no. Just annoying, that’s all.”

“Are you sure? Because I can—“

“No,” you shook your head fervently, “No, please don’t. It’s fine, it’s just— who he is.”

How dare he?

How dare he try to take over your mission? You had put so much thought into this, coming up with multiple strategies, trying to convince yourself that-

That you were doing the right thing. Even if you felt yourself getting lost in this cover, it didn’t mean that Julian could swoop in and take this over as if you were a rookie agent in need of help.

This whole assignment belonged to you, not to anyone else.

If you were going to betray Bucky’s trust and feel like the most terrible person in the world, the least you could do was not let Julian take the credit.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” you attempted to change the subject and Bucky tilted his head.

“Come on Y/N, don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“You don’t have to pretend like it’s fine,” he shrugged his shoulders, “I mean you don’t have to pretend, ever.”

Okay, this was too much. You could almost feel your defenses going up, the whole hangover and stress and anger and now Bucky being able to tell you were faking something, it was all getting the best of you and if you weren’t careful, you would say something you would regret later.

“I’m sorry?”

“I just,” he took a deep breath, “Sometimes you’re like…too good to be true, you know? And Sam has this theory that you’re—you’re somehow you’re doing this for me or the people around you but you don’t have to.”

“You think I’m pretending?” you asked, your voice coming out way too defensive for your own cover but you could hardly care.

You were slipping, and you didn’t have the luxury to slip. It seemed to take Bucky by surprise because for the first time since you had met, you were-

Aggressive. That was the word. Less like your cover and more like your real self.

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” he said and you let out a bitter chuckle, nodding.

“Yeah,” you said, “Okay. I’m kind of busy you see, I have so much to do at the shop so I should probably go back inside.”

“Y/N—“ he started but you pushed yourself off the wall.

“No it’s fine,” you managed to say, “This is me not pretending, for the record. I’ll see you later I guess.”

With that, you walked past him and went back to the milkshake shop, fury still poisoning your insides.

***

You could hardly wait until you could go back to the base. Even though you thought that by then you would have calmed down, that didn’t seem to be the case.

You were fucking good at your job, and you were going to prove it to anyone and everyone. Without any help.

“Is he here yet?” you asked Chloe who rushed to greet you as soon as you stepped out of the elevator into the base and she cleared her throat.

“Who?”

“Don’t even, I know you heard what happened,” you cut her off and she shifted her weight.

“Yeah. I read his report.”

“Exactly. Where is he?”

“Okay, before I tell you where he is I feel like it’s important that you remember we’re not supposed to kill our own agents,” she said, “The paper work is a nightmare.”

“Where is he?”

“Keith says it’s considered rude to kill your team members.”

“Chloe,” you looked her in the eye “Where is he?”

She heaved a sigh, “In the training room.”

“Great, more weapons to use,” you muttered as you walked away from her to walk downstairs to the training room. Anger was pulsing through your veins and you kicked the door open, making the pair currently trying to hit each other stop.

“Get out,” you nodded at the other agent and Julian let out a small chuckle before he wiped his face with the towel. The agent rushed out of the room and you narrowed your eyes at Julian.

“You look upset,” he commented, “Want to exercise it out of your system?”

“What the fuck was that?”

Julian uncapped his water bottle to take a huge sip. “Come on, I saw an opening-“

“You made that opening,” you cut him off, “And crossed the line.”

“Oh please,” he waved a hand in the air, “It worked out perfectly fine.”

You could barely control your voice now, “You almost blew my fucking cover!”

“I would never,” he said, “Trust me, if anything I did you a favor.”

You dug your fingernails into your palms, “A favor?”

“Yeah. Guys love competition, an ex-boyfriend being in the picture will even speed up the process.”

“This is my mission.” You said through your teeth, “You don’t get to make spontaneous decisions without running them by me first.”

“When was the last time you had a proper fight?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You always get cranky if you haven’t had a good challenge in a while,” he stated, “A good fight. I take it your boyfriend doesn’t tire you out enough?”

The innuendo wasn’t lost on you and you let out a small chuckle.

“You couldn’t tire me out if you tried.”

He tilted his head, “Is that a promise?”

You shot him a look and lunged but he easily dodged you, scowling.

“Come on Y/N,” he taunted you, “I won’t hold back, you shouldn’t either.”

“Oh don’t worry, I won’t hold back.” you grinned at him and darted to grab at him but he twisted your hand to push you back, making your back hit the wall. You pulled your hair into a ponytail and jumped to wrap your legs around his neck, spinning in the air to shove him to the ground. As soon as you both fell, you straddled him and pulled the dagger out of your boots to raise it and slam it to the ground right next to his head. A sly grin pulled at his lips as if he was having the time of his life.

“Look at you babe,” he said, “You got even better.”

You were very, very aware of the position you had both found yourself in. You used to find this whole thing hot, it was like foreplay to you. Mock fighting, training, all of it -especially with Julian- it used to be your second favorite activity.

Now, all you could think about was just how much more fun it would be with Bucky.

Maybe Julian was right. Maybe you were just a wild card.

A smirk curled your lips and you leaned in slightly to lock your eyes with his, looking down at him.

“My mission,” you growled. “Not yours. The next time you try to control what’s mine, I won’t be so nice.”

You pushed the dagger into your boot again and got off of him before storming out of the training room, still trying to keep your anger in check.

For some reason, you had a feeling it wouldn’t work.

***

No matter what you did for the rest of the evening, it just wasn’t enough to calm you down. Now to think of it, it wasn’t even completely about Julian and his nonsense, it was because—

You didn’t want Bucky to think you were pretending, even if you were.

Just because it was a cover, didn’t mean your reactions and the happiness you felt with him was fake as well. But he could still tell something was off— Sam could still tell something was off despite your best efforts.

Great.

You poured wine into your glass and changed the channel, trying to decide whether you should go and bug Keith or not. You heaved a sigh and tore your eyes from the screen to lean your head back, nibbling on your lip.

Dealing with feelings was much more difficult than taking down a target.

You groaned to yourself and took a huge sip of your wine, but before you could grab your phone you heard the doorbell ring. Your head shot up and you grabbed your gun to walk to the door, but as soon as you looked through the peephole to avoid yet another mistake like actually opening the door to Julian, you froze.

Bucky.

….Fuck.

“Um- just a second!” you called out before rushing to your room to hide your gun, then quickly looked around the apartment to see if there was anything that could tip him off. Overall, it looked perfectly civilian and you ran a hand over your face to pull yourself together.

Your cover was supposed to be angry at him.

You threw your shoulders back and walked to the door to open it, then leaned sideways to the doorframe, your lips pulled into a slight pout.

“Hi,” you murmured and his gaze lingered on your shorts and flimsy tank top before he looked away for a moment.

Ah.

Compared to 1940s, it was almost the same as you opening the door in your underwear.

“Hey,” he said and held up a small box of bagels. “Listen, I know you’re angry but um…I was hoping we could talk?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Keith’s door opening and he stepped out but as soon as he caught the sight of Bucky on your doorstep, his eyes widened and he froze. He quickly fixed his jacket so that it would cover his gun tucked into the back of the waistband of his jeans and gawked at you.

“What the fuck?” he mouthed and you got momentarily distracted, causing Bucky to follow your gaze over his shoulder to Keith.

And Keith, the badass spy, probably the only spy in the whole division who could give you a hard time in a fight, whom you had seen take down five armed soldier by himself with no weapons-

He waved at Bucky.

“Hi- hi neighbor,” he stammered as he turned to you and you shot him a forced smile.

“Hi.”

“Thanks for the cookies, I was going to bring you your plate the other day,” he said, “Do you need it now?”

Translation: Do you need back up?

“No, no,” you shook your head, “No worries, it’s fine.”

“Alright then. See you later.”

You cleared your throat and took the box from Bucky.

“Come in,” you turned around to walk to the living room, hearing him close the door behind him. It didn’t take him long to step into the living room and his eyes darted around as if trying to take in as much as he could. You figured it was natural, homes always gave clues about who their owners were.

Not to mention, as an ex-assassin he was automatically finding the nearest exits and things to use as weapons.

You would know. You did the same thing whenever you were in a new place.

You peeked into the box and frowned.

“What is this?”

“To be honest with you, I have no idea,” Bucky admitted, “It’s supposed to be a bagel. I just asked the guy to give me the most modern and weirdest combination.”

“Is this—is this glitter?”

“He said it was edible glitter, yeah. With lavender and cheese with honey.”

“Why is there two of them?”

He put his hands into his pockets. “I figured I could try one.”

You blinked a couple of times, “You want to try a lavender cheese honey bagel with edible glitter.”

Even the sound of it seemed to be painful for him but he pressed his lips together and nodded fervently. “Mm hm.”

You tried to stop the smile threatening to warm your face and put the box on the coffee table before looking up at him.

“Bucky, listen—“

“I’m sorry,” he cut you off, “That comment back there, it was so uncalled for.”

You crossed your arms, “Why did you say that though?” you asked, “Is that—is that what you think?”

“No,” he shook his head fervently, “Of course not.”

“Then?”

“I don’t know if I can give an explanation without it sounding incredibly weird to you.”

“Try me.”

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” he said “It’s like— the way you are, it’s like someone somehow looked into my whole life back in 40s before everything and saw every single detail of what I wanted and made you.”

Yeah. That was exactly what you and the division had done.

“I’m not used to…” he motioned at you, “This. It’s like you’re too good to be true, like you’re perfect, does that make sense?”

A dull pain flipped your stomach and you stared up at him, trying to ignore your throat tightening before you went to sit down on the couch.

“I’m not,” you rasped out, “I’m not perfect. You’ll see it sooner or later.”

That right there was as honest as you could be with him. You rubbed at your eyes and grabbed the wine glass to take a huge sip as he sat down beside you, his gaze fixated on you.

“I’m sorry too,” you said, “It was an overreaction, it’s just… Julian’s effect on me.”

He stayed silent for a couple of seconds as if he had no idea how to approach the topic.

“Rough break up?”

“You could say that,” you scoffed a laugh, looking down at your glass, “I mean….you think you know a person, right? And they have no problem with proving you otherwise, prove that you didn’t know them at all. They—they betray your trust and everything was a lie all along and—“

And just like that, the realization hit you like a ton of bricks, making you stop talking.

You were doing exactly the same. It was just another version of the betrayal you had seen from Julian, and you were doing the same thing to Bucky.

He thought he knew you, and you would prove him otherwise, and betray his trust and walk away when this mission was over. In fact, by the time it was over, he would hate you even more than you hated Julian.

You cursed under your breath and took another sip of your wine, trying to ease the crushing guilt making you feel almost breathless.

“Sorry,” you managed to say, “I didn’t mean to unleash it on you, I just don’t want him anywhere near me.”

“I could pay him a visit if you want?”

You pulled your brows together, distracted for a moment before you tilted your head to the side.

“What?”

“To warn him to stay away from you.”

“Uh, I appreciate the chivalry,” you said, “But I can take care of myself.”

“Never said you couldn’t,” he pointed out, “It’s just the old-fashioned thing.”

“Oh the old-fashioned thing?” you repeated with a smile and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Yeah,” he said, “You know, taking care of my girl.”

You thought your heart would leap out of your throat as the warmth spread through you before the idea of betraying him hit you once again. The words felt like they were trying to escape from your mouth, the urge to come clean getting heavier and heavier before you leaned in to brush your lips against his, making him wrap his arms tight around you to pull you closer. You settled in his embrace, the back of your eyes burning but you blinked a couple of times to get rid of tears. He nuzzled into your hair, inhaling your scent.

“Can we stay like this for a while?” you asked and he smiled, pressing a kiss on top of your head.

“Sure thing,” he said and nodded at the TV screen, “What is this movie about?”

“I don’t know, it has cars and criminals,” you said, the guilt making you feel almost nauseous, “Bucky?”

“Hm?”

He would never understand what your confession actually meant, but you felt as if you would choke if you didn’t say it.

“I like who I am when I’m with you.”

A chuckle rumbled in his chest before he reached out to caress your cheekbone.

“Makes two of us darling,” he murmured, “I like who I am when I’m with you too.”

A bitter smile curled your lips and you bit inside your cheek to control yourself, sniffling inaudibly before you closed your eyes, enjoying his warmth.

Chapter 14

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #marvel #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines

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fuckit-hero-of-trains · 3 years

Note

Can we see red go apeshit :3 like some thing happened while they were split the boys are worried about them all yeah but he's been the most targeted as a suposed weak link up meanwhile blue green vio are slowly backing away while equipping fire protection gear?

Or the suggestion that since their bodies are crafted from the elements they have minor bending powers?

I saw "Red go apeshit," blacked out, and wrote this. Also inspired by the fwof prompt of a very similar kind!

Warnings: Graphic depiction of injury. If this was on ao3 I would rate it Teen so be careful if this kind of thing isn't your bag. Please check the TWs in the tags.

The first one to go down is Vio.

It's a lucky shot that gets him. Not anyone's fault. Wrong place at the wrong time. The purple wearing smith simply leaps out of the way of one of Sky’s lizalfos punches at the same moment that Blue ducks a tail swipe from another.

It’s just bad luck that the mace-like tail of Blue’s enemy connects with the back of Vio’s head.

The sickening crunch of metal on skull that follows echoes over even the sounds of battle. The tiny, punched out gasp that slips from Vio’s shocked, slack lips is somehow even louder. The crackle of displaced grit and rock as he collapses to the ground is loudest of all.

Or maybe it just seems that way to Red.

Red can’t seem to hear anything else; not the hiss of success the monster spits out, not the concerned shout that pushes its way out of his own throat. Even the pounding of his heart in his ears has gone horribly silent.

Red can’t seem to see anything else either. Can't look away from the sight in front of him. It’s like the world has narrowed down to Vio, the pool of red sprouting from his head like a halo, and the monstrous lizard that stands over him, rearing back, ready to throw another punch now that it’s target can’t get away.

Red doesn't even register himself moving forward. Doesn't even think about it, really. It’s instinct, a burning tangle of fear and anger in his stomach, in his veins, that sends him diving forward, shield outstretched to deflect the blow.

The beast, not expecting to be denied one again, is thrown off balance with a confused hiss, which Red cuts off with an angry shout and a slash to the things belly.

He turns, sword held at the ready to take on the one that had landed the hit in the first place but Blue is already there, a snarling, unrelenting tide of sword and hammer, protecting Vio’s other side. A decisive mallet swing to the lizalfos' head sends it flying with a crack and a tiny whimper of pain.

They lock eyes for a moment, tsunami meeting lava, and with a quick nod, they take up position on either side of Vio, twin swords a blur.

On Blue’s far side, Red catches a glimpse of Green shoving his own lizalfos away with his shield before turning tail, ducking seamlessly under Blue’s latest swing and skidding to a stop at Vio's side.

Something like warm relief begins to flicker in Red’s chest as Green tosses Vio’s arm over his shoulder and begins to drag the other away.

A flickering relief that is smothered out in the blink of an eye.

Or, rather, in the flash of an arrow.

Between the glint of his own blade and the flurry of punches and tail swipes sent his way by the group of lizalfos in front of him, Red catches sight of one of Wild’s lizalfos lining up a shot too late. He barely has time to register the familiar greenish-yellow energy Red remembers surrounding Wild’s shock arrows before the thing is loosed.

The arrow sings through the air, an arc of crackling ozone that flies across the battlefield, through the swarm of lizalfos bearing down on them before finally diving directly between Red and Blue’s shoulders.

Red doesn't have to look back to know its found its target.

The distorted, jittering scream and acrid smell of singed hair and flesh speaks for itself. As does the thump of two bodies crumpling back into the dirt.

Red feels something inside him crackle at the sound. Feels the moment that the fear and anger twine together in his stomach, twin blazes eating up all the air inside him until he feels breathless with them.

Red also sees the moment that the sound registers to Blue.

And sees the second the dam breaks, releasing the flood.

“Blue, no!”

The warning comes too little, too late. The words are hardly out of Red’s mouth before Blue dives forward with a guttural yell, straight into the swarm of lizalfos, leaving Red to take up position in front of their fallen counterparts, feeling less air in his body by the second.

From there Red only catches glimpses of Blue cutting his way through the hoard. Sees a familiar blade coated in blood, the too fast swing of a mallet as it connects with a head, a flash of dirtied blonde hair. And he sees injuries appear on enemies. A slashed open throat here, a collapsed skull there. Crushed ribs, ripped bellies, torn tails, gauntlets so dented that blood leaks onto metal.

Any that are injured and foolish enough to stumble Red’s way are taken down without hesitation. Red can’t afford to waste his time with them. He’s too busy glancing back at Green and Vio to make sure they’re still okay, still breathing, too busy craning his neck to try and keep track of Blue.

There is a break in the swarm and Blue crashes into the middle of it, looking bruised and battered but standing. Still standing and snarling and swinging at anything that comes within reach. He’s a tornado of strength and momentum and blade and hammer but he's moving too fast, too wildly. Red can see how each swing pulls him that much more off balance, how every frantic turn tangles his legs further and- and–!

Blue swings his hammer into the chest of one lizalfos, pivots to slash at another creeping towards his back and the momentum of both is just too much for him to handle. His front leg slips in the dirt and Blue goes down hard with a growl, his shoulder and face taking the brunt of his weight.

He’s barely hit the dirt before the lizalfos descend on like vultures, gauntlets and mace-tails raised to strike, completely hiding him behind a horde of green scales and unforgiving steel.

The sound of blunt metal connecting with skin and an infuriated but pained shout is the flint.

Or maybe the spark came earlier, from the electric arrow, the jolted scream.

Or maybe it was there from the beginning of this mess, the kindling a crunch and a gasp and a thump.

Or maybe Red was always on fire.

That's what it feels like at least. It feels like he's on fire. It feels like the burning fear and anxiety and anger have left the confines of his stomach, have coalesced, sparked up his veins, charred his lungs and burned up his throat and he’s screaming.

In an instant, his shield has left his right hand, replaced by the searing grip of the Fire Rod.

And now the fire has reached his skin and it feels like he's caught alight. No longer is fear distinguishable from anger, from rage, all that matters is the heat, the power, and the pain. The heat beginning to gather at the end of the Fire Rod. The pain of blisters bubbling on his hands as the temperature swells higher. The power just waiting to burst forth.

Red screams and screams and screams, a mixture of agony and anger and more, bears his teeth for the lizalfos to see despite the tears boiling down his face, raises the Fire Rod, and lets the world explode.

Everything is a blur of crimson after that. Flames lick at the ground and pull themselves swirling through the air, clawing at anything and everything that stands between Red and Blue.

There might be brief moments of green scales and glinting metal in his vision, seconds when claws and tails and gauntlets score him, bruise him, slice him open, but all it does is add more crimson. More places for flames to escape his body, making it that much easier for Red to cut them down and set them ablaze, filling his sight with scarlet once more.

At once, Red can both feel the heat and feel nothing. Pain and power. Each breath in is agony, filling his lungs with sparks and smoke, and each exhale is ripped from him in a scream, burning so hot that it feels like he might actually be breathing fire.

A roar fills his ears, but Red can’t tell if it's his heart or the sound of the flames or the screams of lizalfos as they fall.

He doesn't care what it is either.

Not with the fire around him. In him. Fueling and fueled by him. Breathing his air and stealing it.

All that matters is watching everything turn to ash and–!

A hand, warm but no scalding, catches his wrist.

Red whirls around, intent on wrenching his arm away, in letting the fire burn and burn and burn until it can burn nothing else.

And then he looks down and sees Blue.

Blue who is looking up at him from behind purpled, swollen eyelids. Blue, with blood dripping from his scalp and nose and a cut open cheekbone. Blue, whose left arm looks to be broken even as he holds Red’s wrist tightly with the other.

“It’s okay, Red,” he says, voice hoarse and lips bleeding. “You got them.”

The words enter Red’s ears, but he doesn't quite understand them. The hand that Blue had caught flexes slightly in its hold and the Fire Rod responds to the call of his magic, sparks beginning to sprout of the red gem once again.

“I-” Red coughs, swallows, tries again. “I got them?”

Blue gives him a nod and a weary, bleeding smile.

“You got them,” he confirms in a voice softer than Red thinks he’s heard in a long time. “We’re gonna be okay.”

“We’re…?”

Reality, their situation, it all slams into Red and he whips around, looking back. Behind him is a path of carnage, a path of blacked, scorched dirt, torn and burning scaled bodies, metal gauntlets and tails reduced to misshapen, half melted hunks of steel.

But there, behind the burned dirt and cloud of smoke, beyond any danger, is Green and Vio, the former awake if shaky, still holding on to their unconscious counterpart.

“We’re okay,” Red repeats slowly, numbly, turning back to look at Blue. “We’re safe.”

His body must register the words before his brain does because suddenly his knees are hitting the dirt, bringing Red to sit next to Blue, who wraps his good arm around Red’s shoulder and pulls him gently into his side.

The pain in his lungs and the skin of his hands and any other parts of his body that had been licked by flames, unfortunately, flares to life then, overpowered only by the bone deep exhaustion that comes with using the amount of magic he did.

“We’re safe, we’re okay, we’re safe, we’re okay,” the words keep spilling from Red’s lips in hoarse whispers, even as his throat fails him, and his vision begins to blur.

In the distance, Red thinks he sees eight shapes breaking into a sprint to get to them.

“We’re safe,” Blue agrees, his voice barely making it through the cotton that has stuffed itself into Red’s ears. “You made sure of that.”

Red just hums and nods, letting everything go lax.

They’re safe.

They’re okay.

And knowing that, Red drifts off into the dark, a barely there smile pulling at cracked lips.

#lu four #lu red #lu blue #lu green #lu vio #tw:blood #tw: broken bones #tw: injury #red can go berserker mode #as a treat #red is at the heart of a lot of fours emotions #including seething unstoppable wrath #train writes #can you tell I like elemental symbolism?#linked universe #linkeduniverse

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jinmukangwrites · 3 years

Text

@damianwayneweek Day 1 (6-13): Truth serum | Damian Wayne Protection Squad™ | Best friends to lovers

Note: Rushed. I'm sure it's still the 13th somewhere.

Warnings: kidnapping, nonconsensual drugging, needles.

-o-o-o-o-

Dick wakes to the taste of blood on his tongue.

Thankfully, after slowly moving his tongue around, it's just because he bit the inside of his cheek sometime between when he was knocked out and when he woke up. His head pounds like a war-drum with his heart as he tries to get ahold of his situation. Without opening his eyes, he assess his arms are restrained behind his back and he's sitting on an uncomfortable metal chair. His legs are also tied to the chair, keeping him from running.

The suit he wears feels suffocating, proof that—once again—him wearing Batman's cowl isn't some sort of sick joke. However, his shoulders are a bit lighter suggesting his cape has been taken. Not that he'll mourn it.

His cowl is on. He silently curses himself for not checking that first. It would be the first thing Bruce checked.

He always prioritized the identity. The mission. Secrecy before safety, Gotham before everything else. Not injuries, not friends, not family, partners-

Dick's eyes fly open, reminding him of the real thing he should have checked for first.

"Robin," he gasps out loud, looking wildly around the room and tugging on the ropes holding his back to the chair.

The room is dark and small, the walls made of cinder bricks that have water mold where it connects to the cement floor. In front of him is a metal table with a black, palm sized box placed on top. Dick ignores that for now and looks to his side, only relaxing when he finds Damian to his right, tied similarly to another chair with his chin to his chest. Only unconscious, Dick notes as he watches his stomach rise and fall.

However, anxiety flutters in his gut when he sees there's a dried trail of blood running down the side of his head.

"Robin," he tries again, knowing at the back of his head that Bruce would be telling him to be quiet. Check for cameras. Look for an escape route. Don't let them know you're awake until you have a plan-

Dick shakes his head. Damian could have a concussion, and that takes priority. Dick could have one as well, considering how badly his head hurts, but Damian is only ten years old and Dick knows better than anyone the lingering effects injuries could have when you're a child.

He presses his feet to the ground and pushes, attempting to slide closer to his protege. He does nothing more than jolt in place. There's not enough leverage.

However, it seems the sound of the metal scraping against the ground is enough to wake up the boy. He comes to with a small groan and a pain laced crease between his brow.

"Robin," Dick repeats a third time. He can do nothing but sit as Damian blinks slowly behind his mask; his shoulders tensing as he too notices the restraints.

Damian opens his mouth, but before any words could leave there's a loud clang. The door in front of Dick and Damian, on the other side of the table, swings open.

In walks three men; two are unfamiliar, but the third Dick recognizes from the case files he and Damian got from Gordon about a week ago. Jonas Gibbs. Known arms dealer and smuggler. He's made his moves in Gotham these past few weeks, getting the police and public nervous about shootings with illegal guns. Batman and Robin had finally pinned down the date, time, and location of his next shipment and intended to take him down then, but he was smart and had hired help from various mercenaries that Dick could confidently bet used to be in the military before they were dishonorably discharged.

The way they moved, worked, and attacked was too strategic and planned. It was only a matter of time before one got a lucky hit on Damian; a blow with the butt of their rifle across the kid's forehead. The barrel of the rifle pointed down at Damian's unconscious body was all it took for Dick to raise his hands in surrender.

And now they're here, in some damp old room. Tied to chairs. A table placed in front of them with a mysterious box set on top of it.

"Perfect timing," Gibbs says, grinning. The two other men, clearly mercs, stand on either side of him as he drags up a chair and sits on the other side of the table. "I was almost afraid we'd have to dump water to get you up."

"What do you want?" Dick growls. He must want something. He hasn't taken off the cowl… or at least he hasn't tried to get through the various traps to pull it off. It means he must need something that an identity reveal wouldn't give him.

"I'm glad you asked, Batman," Gibbs says, a grin spreading on his face. He looks to one of his goons and they immediately pull a small camera out from a bag they had around their shoulder. He points it at Dick.

Dick gets a bad feeling about all of this.

"I want you to tell your real name for the camera."

Dick glares. "Are you serious?"

"Very. One of my men has second degree burns thanks to that cowl of yours electrifying him. So, I decided I'll let you go without any more harm. You tell me your names, and I'll let you go. Won't even show the video to anyone. Well," he smirkes, "unless you get in my way."

Dick clenches his jaw. Besides him, Damian mumbles something.

"I'm going to give you to the count of three," Gibbs says, unphased. "Otherwise it will get unpleasant."

His eyes drift to the black box, signifying it's mysterious importance. Dick doesn't let it scare him. He's not going to let this low life criminal blackmail him... put him and his family in danger. He'll take whatever will be thrown at him until he can work out a way to escape.

Gibbs counts down, and he reaches zero uninterrupted.

"Well," Gibbs says, unsurprised. "The hard way then. Gag him."

The grunts move like clockwork, and before Dick knows it his face is being grabbed and held in place while the other shoves a rag into his mouth and wraps a layer of tape around his face to hold it there.

"Batman..." he hears Damian mumble as the grunts back up. He sounds out of it. In pain. Dick can only hope that the hit he took to his head isn't too serious.

Gibbs retakes his attention, however, when he reaches forward and presses a hatch on the side of the black box, flicking it open on spring-loaded hinges. What's inside makes Dick's stomach drop. A needle and a glass vial filled with a yellow tinted liquid lays neatly inside. One of the grunts lifts the needle and the vial to begin filling it up.

"Do you know what this is?" Gibbs asks as the liquid fills the syringe. "I've yet to test it on anyone, but word is from the man I bought it from... It forces the truth out of you." The grunts finishes filling the syringe and flicks the bubbles. "Truth serum."

Dick has no doubt that the serum will work. He only wonders why he's threatening with it while he's gagged.

When the grunt walks around the table to Damian, he doesn't wonder anymore.

He can only tug on his restraints as the grunt grabs Damian's arm to aim the needle. Damian, for his effort, attempts to pull away, but the weakness of his head injury and his restraints do nothing to stop the needle from entering the inside of his elbow.

"You could have done this the easy way, Batman," Gibbs says. Dick watches as the syringe is pressed down, pushing the liquid into Damian's body. "I never like getting children involved."

Damian squeezes his jaw shut and turns his head away from the needle in his arm. It only takes a moment before the grunt pulls the empty syringe out before returning to standing besides his leader. A bead of blood appears where the needle left Damian's skin, but the boy doesn't move.

The air feels solid. Dick can hardly breathe as he tries to conceal his panic. He wants nothing more than to get out of these restraints and punch Gibbs and his men into next year, but he can't reach anything useful to do so. All he can do is watch Damian sit stock still as drugs spread through his veins.

A minute passes as Gibbs sits there in smug silence. Then, when a few more moments pass, he speaks.

"Robin," he says. Damian flinches, but doesn't look his way. His jaw still clenched. The goon with the camera points it right at Damian. "Why don't we start with something easy? What's your favorite animal?"

Damian curls his fingers behind his back and keeps his jaw grinding shut.

"Tight lipped huh?" Gibbs chuckles. He doesn't look surprised. Or worried. "Don't worry, I was assured that once it's fully in your system, it will hurt more to say nothing. What's your favorite animal, Robin?"

Damian says nothing, but he looks ridged. Tense.

"You look uncomfortable, Robin. Do you feel it in your head? I promise it will get better when you stop resisting. Let's try something different while we wait. Are you from Gotham?"

Damian's knuckles must be white under his gloves.

"How about your favorite color? Is it blue?"

Damian breathes a shaky breath through his nose, and Dick's heart breaks. He works harder to find a weakness in his restraints.

"My, your resilience is admirable. Were you trained on this?" Gibbs asks. Damian remains stubborn, but Gibbs still doesn't look worried. "Who were you trained by?"

"The best," Damian whimpers, cutting himself off with a growl and shutting his jaw. Gibbs smiles.

"What's your favorite animal?"

Damian shakes his head, a frustrated cry caught in his throat.

This continues, Gibbs finding victory in the one slip and pressing with everything he's got. Dick doesn't know how long Damian can last like this, and he doesn't want to find out. With every passing second, Dick knows it's only a matter of time before Damian's lips loosen. No amount of training can beat a good concussion and drugs designed to make your lips loose.

"What grade are you? Do you have any friends?"

After each question, Dick can see more and more discomfort in Damian's position. He's beginning to fidget and whimper and Dick's... Dick's had enough.

"What's your favorite color, Robin?"

"Green," Damian says with strangled gasp, sounding horrified with himself.

Gibbs smirks like a predator, knowing he's finally won.

"What's your real name?"

Yeah. Dick's had enough. With a hard tug, the ropes around his wrists finally snap against where he's been rubbing at them with his gauntlets. Gibbs and his men can barely react before Dick's upon them, cutting away the rest of the ropes with a batarang from his belt. He makes quick work of them in their shock, knocking them out and leaving them on the floor in unconscious piles.

He almost bends to put cable ties on their arms and legs, but he hears a tight whimper behind him. The moment after, he's rushing over to Damian to undo the ropes.

"Are you okay?" Dick asks, cutting through the bonds.

Damian shakes his head. Dick almost kicks himself.

"It's okay," he quickly says. "No one can hear. Let it out."

He's almost afraid Damian will force himself to remain silent, but to his relief and heartache, Damian opens his mouth and lets out a heaving sob. "It hurts- it hurts-"

Dick finally undoes the ropes, then he pulls his kid in close to his chest. "Get it out," he soothes, rubbing Damian's back.

"Dogs-" Damian starts, dissolving into quick rambling breaths. Every question he had been asked begins to be answered. Dick holds him close and lets him get it out with his tears. Silently, he sends a message to Gordon to pick up Gibbs and his men, then he messages Alfred to get the med-bay and lab ready. Soon enough, Damian is silent except for pain laced gasps, he holds tight to Dick's chest as Dick lifts him up and stuffs the vial with extra serum into his belt.

"I got you," he says as Damian continues to cry all the way to the batmobile. "I got you."

#damianwayneweek2021 #damian wayne #dick grayson #robin #Nightwing #dc comics #jin writes #fanfiction #violence tw #needles tw #noncon drugging tw #ill upload to ao3 with an edited link in the morning

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goldentournesol · 3 years

Text

to be true, to not be true (part 1)

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: early in y/n’s and spencer’s relationship, y/n fears the growing distance between them, although what seemed to be possible infidelity, is actually much worse–for spencer.

Length: 2.9k

A/N: i wrote this in collaboration with one of my favorite writers on here, Mia over at @mggpleasedontlookhere. She is so wonderful and hopefully you can see both of our writing styles here!

masterlist

The sunlight streaming through the windows made the hairs on my skin dance in glee, although it was the soft breeze invading the space that contrasted the radiant warmth. An equilibrium was achieved–a needed balance. The same can be said about the nerves crawling about my stomach and the naive excitement that made me light-headed whenever I was around Spencer. I glanced up at him from where my head lay in his lap. The reflected glow from the TV danced across his features making my heart jolt. My stare caught his attention and he sent me a small smile, his hand leaving traces in my hair. It was his day off and I had no problem spending it in suffocating proximity with him.

“This is nice,” I breathed, leaning back into his soft touch. He hummed in response, almost in contentment, if not for the moment his eyes seemed far off, entangled in a distant thought. It was so brief, I might have missed it. His job took a lot from him and I knew that, which is why I never pushed him. Instead, I let the subtle aroma of morning coffee and fresh linen confine my senses, leaving me oblivious to reality.

Although not a few moments later, the ping from Spencer’s phone burst the fantastical bubble that surrounded us. My eyes lingered on the cartoon characters plastered on the screen but I couldn’t help noticing the way Spencer’s fingers would thump rhythmically against the floor. Adjacent to his palm, rested his phone, revealing several notifications as it came alive. Albeit I paid no mind to their context given I was enamored by the picture of me on his homescreen. A faint smile graced my lips at the observation, feeling a wave of warmth rush my cheeks.

“I wonder who that is,” I teased, referring to the image. Spencer must have misunderstood my point of reference, hastily explaining that new language that Morgan had introduced him to through text messages.

“Spencer, using emojis does not constitute a new language.”

“Considering its context, I would argue it is–I mean look at hieroglyphics!” I covered my face in amusement, running my hands over my eyes. A sharp exhale left my lungs as my chest filled with contagious giggles. It seems that I was too consumed in my fit of laughter to notice Spencer stealthily concealing the device and turning off his ringer.

“First of all, hieroglyphics is a formal writing system-”

“And does that not ‘constitute’ a portion of language? Also, isn’t texting a writing system in itself?” His lips formed into a sly smirk, thinking he’d gotten the best of me.

“You’re right in the way that hieroglyphics is part of the language, however it’s all but the ‘expression’ of that language.” I debated, gesturing to the air as I explained my point. For a moment our eyes met, and I could feel my playful resolve melt away under his gaze. Despite the pause in my confidence, my stubbornness shone through.

“All I heard was that I was right,” he jested, tickling the side of my waist. I jumped at his mischief, collapsing into pleas and begs as he continued his assault at my skin. My stomach churned in delight as my hands attempted to pry him off of me, the premise of our conversation vanishing into air like wisps of smoke.

Spencer’s days off were becoming increasingly rare, I’d barely seen him in the last two weeks, but we’ve managed to salvage enough time between cases for a date. The excitement buzzed through my veins as the clock ticked closer to 7 pm. I was growing restless in the apartment, obsessively checking my phone for the time. Spencer is usually right on time, if not early. Dread and anxiety clogged up my throat as I waited for him. For hours, call after call would be sent straight to voicemail. The weather outside seemed to be in tandem with the way I felt. The rain was as unforgiving as the tears that striped my face.

I was never one to hold a grudge. But it happened once, then it happened twice. Slowly, it became a habit and it was impossible to reach him.

I guess date nights on Thursdays were now obsolete.

He came over to my apartment maybe once whenever he was in town and even then he was nearly unrecognizable. His shy, loving demeanor was replaced by explosive irritability and general unease. I wished he’d just talk to me, but he continued to brush me off. He was being distant and strange, his behavior was so unlike him. Knowing him though, he was probably too stressed or busy to get around to doing simple tasks like eating a balanced meal. Spencer can be quite scatterbrained, and I hadn’t seen him in around a week. So, around lunch time, I made Spencer a healthy meal packed with proteins and veggies and decided to pop into the BAU and drop it off. It felt like a good way to cheer him up. Maybe we’d have lunch together at the park he always liked to visit. It wasn’t that far from headquarters. Hell, I’d even eat lunch with him at his desk at this point.

The walk into the BAU was strangely nerve wracking, I could feel my heart in my throat. I had an uneasy feeling in my gut but I took a deep breath and pushed the heavy glass doors open. My eyes scanned the bullpen for my boyfriend but I couldn’t find him. Standing there in confusion, I was only snapped out of my trance when someone bumped into me from behind.

“I’m so sorry–oh, it’s you! Hey Y/N, what are you doing here?” JJ said, closing the file she held in her hands and wrapping me in a one-armed hug.

“Hey JJ! I was looking for Spence, I got him lunch, but I can’t seem to find him anywhere? Do you know where he is?” I said as I pulled back from the hug, she began to say something but was interrupted.

“Woah hey, sunshine! I was wondering why it suddenly got so bright in here.” The deep voice of none other than Derek Morgan came from beside us and he was, of course, donning his signature cheeky grin. I couldn’t help but grin back, even though my chest was nearly caving in on itself.

“Did Spence come in today?” JJ asked Morgan, whose brows immediately furrowed.

“No, I haven’t seen him today. I think he might be coming in late, I’m not sure. He’s been kind of off, lately.” Morgan said, eyes searching my own for an answer.

“He has, hasn’t he?” I exclaimed and the two nodded in agreement, “I’ve been worried about him, maybe all that emoji-talk finally got to him.” I laughed slightly, but stopped when I found Morgan’s expression shift.

“What do you mean? I stopped trying to explain emojis to him like months ago, if the genius doesn’t get it, he doesn’t get it.” Morgan shrugged, unknowingly allowing the literal caving in of my chest to take place. JJ noticed the change in me immediately.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” She asked in her usual caring manner, but I could barely hear her over the rushing of my blood in my ears.

“Nothing, nothing. Um, if he comes in today, can you just give him this?” I dismissed the conversation and handed over the brown bag with the lunch I made, disguising the sharp exhale that left my lungs. Before JJ had the opportunity to utilize her profiling skills, I gave both of them a cordial nod and left the office.

My steps felt heavier with every collision against the tile, albeit the loud thumping of my heart drowned out reality around me. My mind warped itself around irrational thoughts as my loyalty to Spencer attempted to retaliate against the invaders. The concept of Spencer as dubious and sly fell foreign to me. However, that lack of knowledge only added fuel to the imminent blaze that engulfed my head and stomach.

I swarmed with alternate realities, trying to make sense of the unknown. If Spencer was aware of my method of defining a solution, I would’ve been scolded by my naivety and illogical thinking. Oh to be a scientist–to have a mind like his. It’s a gift yet a heavy burden to carry. Is that it? Was that it? Does he not believe I’m capable of understanding a mind like his? Was I stupid? No. He had shared intimate momentos of his life before, so what was it? What can I not offer…What can I not promise to make him drift away like this?

It must have been me, right? I must’ve hit a boundary the last time we spoke! Or was it his work? No. By the time my thoughts stopped buzzing, I realized my feet carried me to the park I intended to visit earlier with Spencer. An unfamiliar pang hit my chest, sending reverbing waves throughout the cavity. A sort of ache rested in the core of my heart–something I didn’t think I would feel when reflecting on my relationship with Spencer–my Spencer. I guess I was so used to the warm bubble he fabricated that I forgot how cold the real world was.

Was that it? Did I stop being that for him too?

The thought of the slow degradation of our relationship sent a chilling shock through my veins while I swallowed pins and needles. My hand rested on a park bench next to me, letting myself use the wooden beams as support. Looking out into the far pond in the center of the park, I pulled myself to take a seat. The wind began to whistle through the trees, and the lake of glitter–the nickname I gave whenever the sun casted its glow onto the surface–lost all of its beauty. Crickets didn’t even dare to sing their usual melody and birds flew south to their homes. The breaths I took kept going nowhere, dissolving into nothing even though my chest expanded and retracted.

I pulled at the ends of my sleeves, tucking my knees into my chest as the air grew crisp. Questions of infidelity and unfounded justifications collided creating a mass of insatiable curiosity. My head coincided with entropy–it enjoyed the chaos–until suddenly it went blank. Every tether that kept me grounded vanished, my consciousness going into autopilot. I didn’t even realize the burn that resided in my eyelids or the wet streaks coating my cheeks–maybe from the dryness or something more. It was only the small drop of water landed on the back of my palm that pushed me out of the addicting trance.

Another one had landed on my forehead. And another one. And another one. I cringed as I felt the water drip from my head to the crevice of my ear. The clouds began to rumble a somber tune as it began to rain. Plucking myself from the bench, I made no hurry to make it back to the house. In a way, the droplets cascading the skin distracted me–seemingly blissful compared to the former events.

Once again, my feet held a prominent consciousness as it was the only part of me that was stable, leading me to the doorstep of my apartment complex. With what felt like a last ditch effort, I checked my phone for any new messages from Spencer. My heart lurched seeing a new notification pop up. To my surprise, it was from him.

With a deep breath and newfound hope, I unlocked the device, taking a moment to gaze at the picture of I and Spencer on the screen, before proceeding. My shoulders dropped, the tight squirming in my stomach halting. A hopeful smile crept on the corners of my lips, the previous distrust dissipating from my unreliable mind as I read the words displayed in front of me.

“Date night tomorrow?”

Tomorrow night couldn’t come quick enough. It somehow felt like I was holding my breath the entire day until I finally saw him. He was apologetic and sweet enough that it quieted my anxieties for a while. If he held any guilt or shame, it wasn’t apparent, or maybe he hid it well. Or maybe I was being ridiculous and reading far too much into things that could be circumstantial. But this was Spencer…my Spencer, the tenderhearted, gentle soul who made way too many corny physics jokes.

Dinner went by much smoother than I expected, but I still felt like there were things unsaid. The words felt lodged in my throat, almost like an itch I couldn’t reach. Either by mindless habit or by sheer deliberacy, we ended up in our favorite park. The very park that I found myself running to in a fit of frustration yesterday. Our feet seemed to know the way of our usual path along the pavement. I wondered briefly if there was a place I stepped in twice without noticing it. There was a lull in conversation and before I realized it, the words escaped me stealthily.

“Hey, Spence?” I started, and he took his attention off his shoes to look at me, “I, uh, I wanted to talk to you about something.” The way the words stumbled ungracefully from my lips had me cringing. He lifted a brow in intrigue and caught my eye, silently profiling me and my nervous behavior.

“Anything, love.” The use of the amorous term caught me off guard and I had to swallow under his intense gaze. I felt myself open my mouth, but the words died on my tongue as the blaring of his ringtone took the place of my voice between us. It was almost as if the scratchy melody startled him because the way he snatched himself away from me to look at his phone was worrisome.

His brows bunched together as he took a look at it, “I’m sorry, I have to take this.”

Without waiting for my confirmation, he pressed the phone to his ear and took a few large steps away from me, as if the space would give him more privacy. I suddenly felt extremely exposed without him by my side.

The emptiness beside me lingered of his scent, almost mocking me, the words constricting my tongue. If I had a second longer, maybe the phone call would’ve been obsolete, maybe for the first time in a long time he would’ve been selfishly mine, even for another moment. I found myself suffocating in the same place I was yesterday like some poetic injustice. Perhaps I’m just a marionette, dangling from loose strings as the universe had their way with me. Frankly that would be less upsetting than watching Spencer slip through my fingers, knowing that it was possibly me who sealed that fate, and not some otherworldly being. It would’ve been my doing, and that’s something I’m not yet ready to realize.

Maybe it was my undying curiosity or growing twinge in my chest every second passed that led me to consult the moral figures weighing down my shoulders. At two opposing extremes, they debated the right course of action–or if doing the right thing was even the course of action to consider. Surprisingly in the end, it was my impulsivity that answered for me, wasting no time to stipulate consequences.

I shook off the twisting feeling in my stomach, pushing myself off in Spencer’s direction. I kept justifying my actions by telling myself that all I would be doing is checking on him, although the underlying motive was nothing under disguise. I whispered the same mantra to myself with every inch closer. I gritted my teeth as the antsy sensation traveled to my shoulders, slowing my steps to contemplate my reasoning.

What am I doing? A harsh exhale of detest left my lungs, leaving a light yet deserved burn in my esophagus. It seemed incredulous to me that I was willing to eavesdrop on my own boyfriend, although it didn’t seem like that minutes ago. I bit the inside of my cheek in shame, turning myself around.

Has this all been in my head? No, it can’t. Then why would he lie? He wouldn’t, but he did. Confusion set deep within me, however it was my guilt that left an everlasting mark. Maybe Spencer had his reasons, he would never deliberately fib–at least the Spencer I knew would never. But what if that’s it? Did I really know Spencer that well? The world around me closed in rapidly, my senses overwhelmed. Did I make him lie? It would make sense considering my recent possessiveness. Did he see that? Did I drive him away?

I bit down on my bottom lip, threatening to break the skin. I ran my hand through my hair several times, taking a few calming breaths to compose myself. No, I can’t think like that. This is Spencer, he’s my Spe–no, maybe he never was mine?

Unable to contain my contradicting thoughts any longer, I shifted around with a newfound determination. Pushing the bile building up at the bottom of my stomach, I prepared to march my way to him. My body set aflame with feigned confidence, hopefully enough to fuel the overpowering desire to know the truth.

To know whether the truth actually lied in the irrationality of my mind

To know whether the truth lied in the coarseness of my behavior.

To know whether the truth lied in the prospects of Spencer’s job.

To know whether the truth-

“I guess I’ll see you on Thursday!” Spencer smiled with endearment–a smile I thought was reserved for me. “It’s a date…”

To know whether the truth was that he was no longer mine.

part 2 feedback is always appreciated!

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #Spencer Reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid angst #spencer reid masterlist #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid one shot #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #cm #mia <3

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prettyboybarzal · 4 years

Text

lessons in romance // nate mackinnon x reader

summary: nate mackinnon is really bad at keeping a steady girlfriend. so bad that’s become somewhat of a joke between him and the boys. but you come along and try to set him straight.

word count: 14k+

author’s note: it’s finally here. i’m honestly surprised at how fast i cranked this out... which is actually a LOT longer than most people write on here so mayb i shouldn’t brag lmao! this fic was inspired by THIS gifset. PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE give me feedback/reblog!!!!!!

warnings: smut (i jumped out of my comfort zone people. i finally wrote some lmfao) & mentions of a past toxic ex

Weekends were better spent in bed or visiting family, not sitting in a crowded bar with men who reminded you slightly of your ex-boyfriend. You were probably overreacting a little bit because the guys truly meant well, but their overly boy-ish energy was startlingly similar to that of your ex. Maybe a few more drinks would help the cause and you could get passed the sex jokes.

Mel Landeskog was the reason you were there. She wouldn’t take no for an answer, much like her husband, and so you were sitting across the booth from some of the largest men you’d ever seen in your life. Gabe gave you the rundown of their names as they arrived though the only one you could remember was Cale. He was a perpetually blushing 21-year-old named after a vegetable; how could you forget him?

“Do you think Nate’s upset about this one?” Cale asked. The new topic of conversation was their friends’ disastrous date since he texted to tell them he was broken up with and was on his way to them. “They were sort of serious.”

“We’re about to find out,” Gabe announced, nodding towards the entrance of the bar. Nate was on his way to the booth, tired smile on his lips. As he got closer, he started shaking his head and the table erupted in chirps at his expense.

You recognized him from earlier at the Landeskog’s pregame. He was slipping out of the front door as you stepped in. His cologne was the type the good-looking guys always wear, and you weren’t disappointed when you looked up at him. He was handsome with the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled to his elbows and the top three buttons undone, and when he smiled, you all but swallowed your tongue.

He began to greet his teammates. The chain around his neck caught the light of the DJ booth and you found yourself gazing at it. You tore your eyes away from the gold at the sound of Mel’s voice introducing you.

“This is my girlfriend, YN, from my Saturday morning Cycle class,” she said. “And, YN, this is my husband’s boyfriend, Nate MacKinnon.”

He threw his head back in a laugh at Mel’s joke as he extended a hand to you. “Nice to meet you.”

You listened to the quips from his teammates, each one with their own opinion about Nate’s relationship or lack thereof. It seemed like this wasn’t the first time in recent months that he’d been broken up and it had become somewhat of a spectacle to the boys. Mel, who’d seen this song and dance one too many times, wrapped her fingers around your elbow and tugged you with her towards the bar.

“What was that about?”

“Nate can’t hold down a girlfriend,” she explained. “It’s been a joke since he first came here because they almost all have the same issue with him.”

“And what is that?”

“He’s not romantic enough.”

You glanced back over your shoulder and watched the boys laughing amongst each other. It looked like they were celebrating as they lifted their beers in a sad looking toast, and it hit you right where it hurt.

You really saw your ex-boyfriend in the group now and, though you tried not to make assumptions, you found it hard to set the first impression aside. The liquor in your system didn’t help. With each joke about his dating misadventures, you became less of a fan of him and by the end of the night you were bubbling over in annoyance.

Gabe and Mel offered Nate a ride home towards the end of the night and you managed to keep your expression neutral when he accepted. As they headed out to grab the car, you and Nate waited at the curb several feet away from each other.

“I’m sorry about your break up,” you offered after a moment of silence. The statement came out more like a question and Nate’s lips quirked up into a smirk at the inflection of your voice. “Sorry, I just can’t tell if you’re upset or not, so I don’t know if I should even offer my condolences.”

“I’m, uh, I’m not upset,” he began. “I saw it coming.”

“How so?”

“Let’s just say this isn’t the first time a girl’s broken up with me for not being romantic enough,” he said. Thoughts were filling your head faster than you could make sense of them. There was no reason for the situation to annoy you as much as it did. You didn’t know this guy and the odds that you ever saw him again were slim.

“So, if it’s not the first time, why hasn’t anything changed?”

“Excuse me?” he asked. There was a crease between his eyebrows. He hadn’t been expecting you to respond like that. You shouldn’t have. It wasn’t your business

“I mean, you act like a martyr when you probably would be successful in love if you just put in the romantic effort these girls are craving,” you said. Your anger had begun to boil over and words were spilling from your mouth faster than you could stop them. “Guys like you are the worst. You lead girls on and make them think they’re special. Next thing they know, they’ve been wasting time on you and your lack of effort.”

The comment made Nate take a step away from you. His eyebrows drew together in shock and confusion. As you spoke, he turned his body to you and crossed his arms over his chest. The moment you closed your mouth, he interjected. “You don’t even know me.”

“I don’t have to,” you argued, turning to him. You were in a stand-off with a man several inches taller than you, and to any passerby it probably looked a little bit funny, but you weren’t backing down. “I know guys like you. I’ve dated guys like you.”

Before Nate could continue arguing, the Landeskogs pulled up to the curb. Mel hollered out for you two and the topic of conversation was dropped.

---

You regretted everything you said to Nate the moment you woke up the morning after. It wasn’t like you to be so rude, especially not to someone you didn’t know. Your heart stopped every time Mel texted you in the days following. You thought that at any moment she’d confront you about what you said to him, but it never came. As the week carried on, you found yourself forgetting the harsh words spoken outside the bar and the worry stopped.

Until Thursday night.

The knock at your apartment door was unexpected. You met your roommate, Mara’s, narrowed eyes over the dirty dishes you were working on. By the look on both your faces, neither one of you had a guest on the way over. She turned on her heel to check the peephole and the next look she gave you was equally as confusing as the previous one. She still opened the door.

“Does YN live here?”

The voice sent shockwaves through your veins and you stopped your movements, plates held just above your head as you were about to slide them into the cabinet. Nate MacKinnon was at your apartment. Mara nodded at him slowly before stepping back to let him in.

“Hi,” he greeted. His hands were tucked into his sweatshirt pocket, legs clad in compression leggings and a pair of shorts. He looked like he’d just come from a workout and his hair was still wet from the shower he’d taken before coming over. “I hope you don’t mind. Gabe gave me your address.”

“No problem,” you told him through a shaky breath. “Come in. Come sit at the island.”

He removed his shoes and approached slowly, sending Mara one last smile as she crept off down the hall. You silently cursed her for leaving you with your shaking hands as you cleared the clutter from the countertop. You watched him as he settled into the stool across from you, mirroring the kind smile he was sharing with you.

“Can I get you anything? Water? Coffee? I have food, too, if you’re hungry.”

“Don’t worry about me,” he said. His voice was softer now than it had been before. “I wanted to talk to you about the other night. It won’t take long.”

“Oh?” you asked, trying to ignore the way your stomach dropped. You wanted to start apologizing right then. You didn’t have a reason to go and butt into his personal life like you had. You should’ve kept your mouth shut. Guys like him didn’t care about your opinions. “I’m sorry for what I said. When I get drunk, I have the tendency to shoot off at the mouth.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said. Your mouth snapped shut. “No one keeps me in check. All the guys think the fact that I can’t keep a girlfriend is a big joke because I’m so bad at dating. It shouldn’t be a joke. So, I’m sorry and thank you.”

You dropped your hands to the counter and leaned against it. The last thing you expected was for Nate to thank you, so you needed a moment to gather your thoughts. His eyes glistened as he watched you and then the corner of his lip quirked up because you started giggling.

“You should not be thanking me,” you said. With that simple statement, the tension in the air lifted. You turned your back on him, indicating that if the conversation must go on, you were going to be doing the dishes as well. “I was just being bitter the other night.”

“You had every right to be,” he said. “I was gloating.”

“You were kind of gloating,” you mumbled. You hadn’t meant for Nate to hear, and he knew that, but he laughed anyway. You turned to face him with an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” he said. He didn’t even know why you were apologizing at that point. It seemed like you’d apologize for taking up space and that made him feel a bit sad. He smiled politely at you anyway, to signal he wasn’t annoyed by the apologies, and it lit up his features in a way you hadn’t noticed the other night. “Anyway, I came here for a reason.”

“Okay.”

“I need you to teach me to be romantic.”

He delivered it tentatively, as though he was afraid of the way you might react. In the split second that followed, your mouth open and closed twice as every possible response came to your mind. He waited patiently.

Finally, “You don’t even know me. How can you be so sure that I’m the right person to teach you this stuff?”

“You’re a girl,” he explained, deadpan. “Girls know romance.” You snorted at how adorably dumb he was. Your hand flew up to cover your mouth in embarrassment and your cheeks burned as he grinned at you, amused by the sound of your laugh. “What do you say?”

---

Mondays were always your least favorite day of the week. Every weekend, your workload piled up and most Mondays you could hardly take a lunch break because you were so busy getting shit done. Whenever you came home from work on Mondays, you were wiped. Mara always made sure to have dinner ready for you when you got in, and the two of you often sat on the couch while eating those nights.

That Monday, you were sure that you’d be in bed before the Bachelor even started. But then Nate showed up unannounced. Mara was in the middle of washing the dishes this time, so you were the one to open the door. He greeted you with a goofy smile and a large electrical wire. Without a word, you stepped to the side and he was kicking off his shoes to enter the living room. Mara caught the roll of your eyes as you followed him.

He was standing beside the television when you entered the room. The wire he’d brought with him was connected to his cellphone while he found a port for the other end. You sat at the corner of sectional and waited, yawns escaping your mouth every minute or so. The day had been long enough already.

Suddenly, the television lit up with his cellphone background on full display. He held it up to show you, a grin present on his face.

“I need your help,” he began. He tapped one of the dating apps on his home screen and immediately you were regretting letting him in. You realized he wasn’t leaving any time soon as he unraveled the cord and plopped down beside you on the couch. Mara entered the room, eyes catching on the beautiful brunette woman on the screen, and then she gave Nate a curious look. “Come on, Mara. Join us.”

An amused smile came to her lips as she sat on the other end of the couch.

“I am not swiping for you,” you grunted, rubbing at your eyes. “I have no interest in judging girls off these apps.”

“Relax, YN,” he said. “I’m not asking you to play matchmaker. Just help me talk to this girl.”

“You need help talking to girls?” Mara asked as she gave him the once over. You laughed out loud while Nate blushed.

“I don’t need help,” he began. He turned his attention back to the television and pulled up the profile of a beautiful brunette woman. “I just don’t want to come on too strong, or douche-y. This girl is perfect and I wanna take her out.”

“Can you two make this quick?” Mara asked. “The Bachelor’s on tonight.”

“And my bed is calling my name.”

Nate peered at you over his shoulder. He smiled at your tired eyes, drooping as you leaned your head on your hand. He leaned back, stopping inches from your face and said, “I’ll make it quick.”

To your surprise, and Mara’s delight, he reached up and ran his hand over your hair before turning back to the television. He gave a rundown about the girl on the television, but his words went in one ear and out the other. Your glazed eyes watched as he typed out messages to her, and you laughed when Mara made fun of the way he was talking. (“Why the fuck are you talking like that? Are you her father?”) Finally, he turned on you.

“Are you gonna help or what, love doctor?”

“Give me the phone,” you said, extending your hand. He plopped it into your palm and watched you type out the message on the television screen. It took you less than a minute to type out a sweet message asking the girl out on a date before you were shoving the phone back into his hand. “You overthink too much.”

“That’s it?”

“Short and sweet,” you noted with a shrug. “I’d say yes.”

Nate’s eyes cut to you and you felt a chill run down your spine at the intensity behind them. Mara cleared her throat as you diverted your attention from him, shaking the feeling you got from his baby blues. She smiled sweetly at the two of you. “Can I detach your phone from our TV now? It’s almost time for Bach.”

You peeled yourself off the couch and headed to the bathroom to wash your face before changing into sweats and a t-shirt. You returned to the living room to find Nate with his feet up on the coffee table. Mara had tuned the television to ABC and the Bachelor recap was playing. He looked up as you entered and frowned.

“Stay out here a little bit longer,” he proposed, bottom lip jutting out in a pout. “We’ll watch some of this and see if she says yes to the date.”

“Nate, I’m exhausted.”

“C’mon.”

You couldn’t say no, not when he was pouting like that. So, you rolled your eyes and walked around the couch to plop down in the spot you’d been before. Before long, your eyes were closing and you couldn’t keep them open any longer.

Nate didn’t realize you fell asleep, but he didn’t mind when you leaned against his arm as a pillow. He stiffened for a moment, unsure of what to do, but a soft snore escaped your lips and he found himself smiling down at your peaceful face. He didn’t move for the rest of the episode because he was too nervous to wake you. When the credits began to roll, he dropped a hand to your knee and shook you lightly.

Your eyes opened, bleary from sleep, and you found that you’d fallen asleep on him. You jerked away, realizing that it was probably too close for comfort, and smiled apologetically. He returned the smile before standing and gathering his things from the coffee table.

“Get some sleep,” he said on his way to the front door. You hummed in response, following him to the door to say a proper goodbye and lock up. He pulled you into a hug before going, shocking you once again by with how gentle he was despite hardly knowing you.

“Did she say yes?” you asked as he pulled away from the hug. “I almost forgot to ask.”

“Yeah, she did.”

---

Lesson #1: The First Date

In the chaos of the week that followed, you’d almost forgotten that you promised Nate your assistance before the date. You weren’t used to being accountable for someone else like you were now, so it wasn’t surprising.

“There is a man at reception asking for you.”

The office receptionist, Debby, was standing in the doorway with a giddy smile on her lips. You knew immediately from the look in her eye that the man at the front desk was going to be the talk of the office for a week.

You stood, following her out the door of your office and down the hall. As you rounded the corner to reception, you saw Nate leaning against the desk. He was sucking on a mint from the bowl in front of him and smiled wide when he saw you.

“What are you doing here?”

“I have my date tonight, remember?” he asked. One glance at your watch told you that you worked a little too late. You cursed under your breath, turning quickly to head back to the office and send one last email. Nate hesitated, but ultimately decided to follow you down the hallway. He eyed the pencil skirt you were wearing, eyes lingering a little too long on your ass. He shook his head from his trance, knowing damn well that he was just asking for trouble.

Nate lingered in the doorway of your office for a moment before his eyes landed on a picture frame across the room that caught his attention. It was a marble frame without a photo like it had been removed and never replaced. He picked the frame up and turned it over in his hands, then turned to you.

“You need a picture.”

“What?” you asked, eyes still trained on the screen. They flickered up to see what he was talking about and then got right back to work. “Used to be a picture of me and my ex. Nobody’s important enough to put in.”

Nate placed the frame down. He felt a pang of sadness for you in that moment, but distracted himself by moving onto the next shelf and playing with some of the desk games on it. He was in the middle of fiddling with your Rubiks cube when you stood from the computer.

“You’re wearing that?” you asked. Nate winced at the question, glancing down at the jeans and t-shirt he was wearing. When he looked back up, you were wearing a shit eating grin. “I’m fucking with you.”

“Jesus, YN.” He clutched his heart and released a deep breath. You rounded the desk and grabbed your jacket from the hook. As you swung it over your shoulders, Nate stepped up to help. You slipped your arms through the arm holes trying to suppress the flair up of butterflies in your stomach.

When you reached the sidewalk outside the building, you led him down the block to a florist. Their window displays were your favorite in the city and you often found yourself going out of the way to peak at them on shitty days. You daydreamed about the day someone bought you a bouquet from there specifically.

The bell above the door rang as you stepped in. The smell of fresh flowers hit your nose and you sniffed it in happily. You grinned back at Nate and he felt a tug at his heart at your excitement.

“Can I help you?”

You bounded over to the woman behind the counter, Nate following behind you a little awkwardly. You gave him an expectant look and then his brain finally caught up with the question. As he leaned forward to look at the flowers in the case in front of you, his hand pressed against the small of your back.

“What would you get?” he asked curiously. You took a sharp intake of breath at the lack of space between you and pulled away to look at the flowers.

“Sunflowers and baby’s breath are my favorites.”

Nate smiled at the woman behind the counter and repeated what you’d just said, adding, “It’s for a first date, so I don’t need it too big or anything.”

You laughed at his explanation, and then the blush that come to his cheeks when he realized how silly he sounded. Neither of you noticed the confused look on the florist’s face. She was about to comment on how cute the two of you were, and in hindsight she was glad she kept her mouth shut. He reached out and squeezed your arm as a warning to stop teasing him. You stepped away completely, still smiling stupidly as he turned to pay.

“I’d’ve put roses in there too,” you told him once you were back on the sidewalk. “But this is only a first date. It might’ve been a little intense.”

“Roses?” he asked. You hummed in response, plucking the flowers out of his hand as you continued in the direction of the restaurant he was meeting his date at. “Good to know, you know, for the future.”

The walk to the date spot was only about ten minutes long and most of it was spent talking about your plans for the weekend as opposed to his date. He was going to be away with the team and you had plans to visit family. You kept thinking to yourself that you needed to stop getting distracted by him and his good looks and his sweet disposition. He was dating someone, and that person was not and would not be you, but he kept surprising you with the way he weaseled himself into your life.

“We’ll have to hang out next week sometime, then,” he said, snatching the flowers back out of your hand playfully. You nodded, but you were taken by surprise. It didn’t make sense that he’d want to hang around you without getting something out of it, whether it was dating advice or something more. Clearly, Nate didn’t care and you were beginning to wonder if maybe you’d get a beautiful friendship out of this nonsense.

“Any last-minute advice?”

“Don’t say anything dumb,” you said to him, emboldened by the realization that you might actually be friends now. Nate laughed out loud. “You think I’m just being funny, but sometimes you say stupid shit.”

“Jeeze,” he muttered. “Way to fuck up my self-esteem right before a date.”

“Oh, please.” You rolled your eyes and came to a stop just before the crosswalk he’d be using. He slowed to a stop as well, the bouquet of flowers falling to his side as he looked down at you. You reached out to right them with an amused smile. “Careful with these.”

“Got it, boss.”

You stalled a moment more, gazing at the flowers. You almost felt jealous of the girl going to dinner with Nate because those flowers would look perfect in a vase on your dining room table. “God, I really hope she appreciates those.”

The tone of your voice took Nate by surprise. It sounded a little sad, and full of yearning, and he felt kind of bad that he’d be walking away with the flowers you’d been admiring the entire walk from the florist. Even so, you said your goodbyes and he watched you turn on your heel to head home. He felt stuck in place, eyes trained on your retreating frame while his feet were cemented to the sidewalk. Before he could second guess himself, and his motives, he called out your name.

“Wait, YN!” When you turned, he was halfway down the sidewalk to you and, once he was within arm’s length, he plucked a sunflower from the bouquet and extended it. “For you.” Your cheeks felt red hot as your fingers curled around the stem. You hoped he couldn’t notice a blush. If he did, he didn’t make it known and left with a simple, “I’ll talk to you later.”

A stupid smile sat on your lips the entire way home. You felt the thumping of your heart long after you’d entered your place and placed the flower in the dining table vase. No matter what you found yourself doing that night, Nate remained at the back of your mind. You swore to yourself that it was because you wondered how his date was going, nothing more. But, when your eyes kept finding their way to the sunflower on the dining room table, you worried that maybe the reason you couldn’t stop thinking about him was something more.

---

You grabbed dinner with Mel the next Tuesday. Because of your trip to visit family, the two of you agreed to take a week off and reschedule some sort of get together for Tuesday. Gabe was home so he’d be with Linnea, and you were just happy that it wasn’t Monday. She was in the middle of a story when your phone lit up beside you; Nate’s name was on full display.

When’s our next lesson?

You snatched the phone off the table and away from Mel’s prying eyes, hoping that it wouldn’t peak her curiosity. The movement itself was enough to stir her, though, and Mel was soon leaning forward to see what was going on. She reached out and pushed the phone down, craning her neck to read the text.

“Next lesson?” she asked, eyebrow quirking. “Who is this?”

“It’s Nate MacKinnon.”

You said it so quickly and so nonchalant that Mel actually continued picking at her brunch before she reacted. Her fork clattered to the plate. “Did you just say Nate MacKinnon?”

“This,” you began gesturing at her wild eyes and wicked smile, “is exactly why I didn’t tell you.”

“Why?” she asked, feigning innocence. “Because I’m totally going to take this and run with it?” You dropped your face in your hands. “You should go for it. He’s a little dumb, but mostly cute. You definitely have the patience to deal with him though.”

“Mel, it’s not like that at all,” you told her. “I’m helping him learn how to be more romantic.” Her eyebrows shot up to her hairline in shock. “I’m serious. You know just as well as I do that he’s bad dating. He asked for my help after we met. I have enough experience with douchebags to tell him what not to do.”

“You sure do,” Mel agreed. You laughed at her response and an easy smile spread across her face. “Maybe teaching him a thing or two about how to be romantic will remind you of what you deserve.”

You sighed, picking up the coffee in front of you to take a sip. Mel knew better than anyone, besides Mara, how shitty the guys in your life had been. She met your ex last year just before your break up and she hated him from the moment you introduced the two. He never deserved you and her heart broke the longer you spent wasting your time on him. When you finally ended it, she was your biggest supporter.

You left the message unanswered, not wanting to give her anymore ammo in what was sure to be her new mission. When she got up to head to the bathroom before the check came, you opened the message from him. The last conversation was from Saturday night and he was letting you know that the girl he’d gone out with was looking forward to their next date.

What do you need help with now?

Do you know how to cook?

---

Lesson #2: A Homemade Meal

“I can’t believe you don’t know how to cook,” you grunted as soon as Nate pulled his apartment door open on Friday night. The grin on his face was anything but apologetic and you pushed past him with two large grocery bags in hand. You brought them to the kitchen and began unpacking them onto the counter.

“I do know how to cook, by the way,” he said, stepping up beside you to help you remove everything from the bags. You eyed him skeptically. “Mostly just the basic meats and vegetables.”

“You can’t cook a date your pregame meal.”

Nate knew that. He wasn’t that stupid, but he did love saying stupid shit around you. You tended to roll your eyes at him, but your lips always gave away how you really felt about his stupidity. The right side always curled up into a smirk, like you were trying to fight the laughter bubbling in your chest. He loved it when you did that.

“Is this, like, a meal your ex used to make?” he asked after grabbing some spices from the cabinet. You were grateful that his back was turned because the easy smile on your lips disappeared at the reminder of him. You busied yourself with the pot of water on the stove and set it to boil.

“No, my ex never actually made dinner for me,” you answered in a poor attempt to keep your voice steady.

Nate stopped prepping the meat and turned to face you. Questions sat on the tip of his tongue, begging for him to ask, but you wouldn’t look at him. He felt a little bit angry at your confession, though he couldn’t quite place why. Admittedly, he had been that boyfriend before – the one that didn’t cook dinner. Now, he was mad at himself for ever being that guy.

When you didn’t turn to look at him, he dropped the subject. You worked in silence, you busy with the pasta and him with the chicken. As you waited for the food to be ready, you hiked yourself up onto the counter. Nate grabbed a bottle of red wine from the end of the counter and poured glasses for the both of you.

He stood across from you with a dish towel over his shoulder and his own glass of wine in his palm. He asked about work and you filled him in on all the hot office gossip. The smile on his face didn’t fall once as he listened to your stories, and he never tried to change the subject or take over the conversation for himself. After a while, you stopped.

“I’ve been talking forever.”

“Yeah, and I’ve been enjoying it,” he told you. You laughed. “I wish I could be a fly on the wall in your office.”

Feeling a bit bolder, you kicked your foot out and nudged his side. “Maybe I can take you to bring your pet to work day.”

Nate’s jaw dropped, a reaction you weren’t expecting, and you began laughing hysterically at his surprise. He placed his wine glass down beside him and took a step closer, wrapping a hand around your ankle to tug you closer to the edge of the counter. You yelped in surprise.

“Pet?” he asked. You wiggled your foot out of his grasp, giggles falling from your lips as he dropped his hand to his side. The oven started beeping, interrupting whatever moment you were having before it could continue. “Saved by the bell.”

“Looks good, Nate,” you praised as he pulled it out of the oven. “My mouth is watering.”

“Go sit down,” he ordered. “You have to evaluate my presentation and make sure I look good.”

Nate entered shortly after you sat down and placed the plates on either side of the table with a smile. He slipped back out and returned with the wine. There was mischievous glint in his eyes as he topped your glass off and added to his.

“How is it?” he asked, leaning back. A look of cockiness flashed over his features and you felt it in your stomach when you looked at the way his arms were crossed and his biceps filled out the sleeves of his t-shirt. You picked up your utensils and cut into the meal, picking up a bit of each piece before putting it in your mouth.

Nate leaned forward eagerly. He watched your eyes light up when the flavor hit your tongue and he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. You nodded emphatically as you swallowed your first forkful. He cut into his own meal and the moment he took a bite, he moaned. The meal was so good that conversation was sparse and, by the end, it looked like your plates had been licked clean.

You didn’t stop Nate from filling your glasses again, though you figured you should have. The third glass always lowered your inhibitions.

“How pissed off would you be if I asked you about your ex?”

“Not pissed off,” you answered. You took a sip of the wine, then leaned your cheek in your palm as you spoke. “What do you want to know?”

Nate sat up at this, suddenly realizing that he hadn’t prepared himself with a question because he didn’t think you’d give him the go ahead. He let out a tuft of breath, took a sip from his glass, and thought. Finally, he asked, “Why’d you break up?”

“How long do you have?”

“As long as you need,” he answered. His voice was soft, comforting, and you felt yourself relax into the question.

“Honestly, I didn’t want to break up with him,” you began. “And, if I didn’t have friends like Mel and Mara, I might still be with him. Things have changed now, though. I realize what a crap human being he was but, if I stayed with him, I don’t think I would’ve realized how much better I deserved.”

“Did you fight a lot?”

“Do I seem like the fighting type?” you teased. He shook his head. “He did enough fighting for the both of us. He would yell at me for no reason sometimes, just because he felt like it.”

Nate was angry. His features were contorted in distaste as you told him about your ex. Even though you tried to make light of the situation with a few light-hearted jokes, Nate couldn’t find it within in him to react with laughter. You deserved so much better than what you’d been given.

“When I broke up with him, Mara was there. We packed my things and moved it all out. I was going to leave a note, but he came home from work early and caused a scene. He went out the night after and sent me all these videos and pictures of him out with his friends. They were flipping me off, girls were draped all over him, etcetera. I blocked him the next morning and I haven’t seen him since. That was over a year ago.”

“Fuck,” he muttered, dropping his head in his hands. He felt ashamed. “That’s why you yelled at me.”

“Yep,” you answered. “Emotions got the best of me.”

“I don’t blame you.”

Silence filled the room and you felt vulnerable. You didn’t share the story about your tumultuous relationship often, but with Nate it just slipped out. You grabbed your glass from the table and finished it off.

“I’m not staying for another,” you announced. Nate sat back, his face flashing with an offended expression. As you gathered the plates from the table, you tried to ignore the knots in your stomach that were becoming more and more prevalent when he was around. “Nothing good ever happens after the third glass. But, if I was your real date, I would definitely stay for a fourth and you would probably get to kiss me at the end of the night simply for how good that meal was.”

The words fell from your lips so easily that it shocked you and you hoped that the playful tone of your voice wouldn’t scare him off. You gathered yourself before turning back to look at him. He was still sitting at the table, chair pushed back with one arm over the back of it. The way he was looking at you was lethal, eyes drinking you in as you stood in his kitchen. You couldn’t tell if you were imagining the tension or it was real.

“Thank you for dinner,” you said finally. You grabbed your bag from the counter and pulled it over your shoulder as you headed for the door. Nate stood then to walk you out, pulling the door open as you slipped into your sneakers. “It was delicious.”

“Thank you for teaching me how to cook something actually good,” he said. “Poor girl would’ve been eating chicken and vegetables or pasta if you hadn’t come by.”

“Can’t let that happen, can we?” you asked. “Let me know how dinner goes.”

Nate leaned down, wrapping an arm around your waist to tug you into a warm embrace. You melted into his arms as yours came up and around his neck. For a moment, the two of you just stood there in each other’s arms. You wondered if he could feel the beat of your chest again him. It sped up as his hands flattened against your back, crossing over each other to engulf you completely.

“I’m not that kind of guy,” he said. He leaned his cheek on the top of your head and his chest rumbled beneath your own cheek as he spoke. “You know that, right?”

Your blinked away tears before he couldn’t notice then and nodded in response to his question.

When he pulled back, he leaned in to press a kiss to your cheek and his lips caught the corner of your mouth. An electric shock coursed through your bloodstream and you pulled back quick before offering one last smile and tossing a goodbye over your shoulder.

---

Nate called you the next Friday night with plans for Saturday.

“Mel and Gabe invited a bunch of the guys over and she told me I should see what you were doing tomorrow.” he said. “I feel like I haven’t talked to you much since last week. The guys would love to meet you.”

“Meet me?” you asked. “So, it’ll be more than just the ones I know?”

“A few more,” he answered with a laugh. “They’ll love you, okay? I’ll be at your place to get you at 5:30.”

It was the first time you were going to see him since you made dinner together last Friday. You exchanged a few texts throughout the week, but nothing of substance. You knew his dinner date went well, though you didn’t know to what extent. You found yourself wondering if she stayed for that additional glass of wine after dinner, or if she stayed for the night after.

He showed up to your apartment wearing a white dress shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows. You welcomed him in while you went back to your room to get your heels on. He gaped at the dress you were wearing as soon as you had your back to him. His eyes wandered over your curves as you bent to grab your heels from the floor in your bedroom. When your dress slid up your thighs, he had to force himself to look away.

You tried to get more details about his dinner date out of him on the way to Mel’s, but he kept quiet. She liked dinner, she stayed for an extra glass of wine, and then she went home at the end of the night. An invisible weight lifted from your shoulders upon hearing she didn’t stay the night and you settled back into his passenger seat.

Nate noticed the way you relaxed into the seat and tore his eyes from the road for just a moment to sneak a peek at you. You were watching the world go by from the window, unaware that he was even looking at you. When he turned his attention back to the road, all he could think about was his sweaty palms and accelerated heartrate. Why did he care so much about what you thought?

Everyone was already at the house when you pulled up. The two of you walked up the driveway, his hand against your lower back much like it had been in the florist. Mel opened the door, lunging to sweep you into her arms and whisk you to the kitchen, her husband and your, well, Nate left behind.

“Thanks for having me, Mel.”

She handed you a drink complete with a salted rim and said, “I’m glad Nate asked if you could come.”

“Nate asked?” you repeated. She affirmed with a nod and ushered you to join the others in the living room while she and Gabe finished dinner.

You swore half the team was there, which meant not one seat was open on their couch. As you passed Nate, he grabbed your hand and sat you on the arm of his chair. He pulled your legs over his lap and began introducing you to the boys you didn’t already know.

You caught Cale’s eyes and felt heat rise to your cheeks. Out of everyone in the room, he was the only one making note of the lack of space between you two. Though you weren’t technically sitting in his lap, it still felt a little inappropriate. Nate’s hand was like fire where it rested against your thigh and you had to remind yourself to stop peeking at the placement.

Nate lied about your invitation to dinner, and for what? He could’ve just invited you himself instead of disguising it as a joint decision between him and Mel. What was he so afraid of that he couldn’t man up and admit he wanted you there? Better yet, why didn’t he ask Gianna?

You somehow ended up seated away from Nate at the dinner table. Cale settled in on one side of you and EJ occupied the other. Across from you sat JT and Tyson, bickering as always. You don’t know how you ended up separated from Nate, but you welcomed it because you needed the breathing room.

The meal was delicious, but Nate couldn’t even enjoy it because you were so far away. He was going to get fucking whiplash because of the way he kept looking back to see who you were talking to or hear what you were laughing at. How did he even end up this far down from you?

On the other hand, he couldn’t stop the smile that kept creeping up to his lips when he saw you with his teammates. They loved you, probably almost as much as he did, and he was proud to have you by his side that night. But then came the harsh reality that you weren’t actually his to show off.

When the party relocated, he made sure to slide up next to you on the way to the couch. EJ’s laughter mocked him, but you didn’t catch on to his teammate’s playful ribbing. With Gabe and Mel’s eyes in the room, he didn’t pull you over his lap and opted to lower his arm over the back of the couch instead. There were just inches between your skin and his but, after having you on his lap earlier, it felt like miles.

Drinking games were played, stories were shared, and you all left the house with full bellies and large smiles. Nate was driving, so he eased up on the drinks after dinner. You, on the other hand, were feeling just as free as you did after three glasses of wine at his place last week, and feeling daring enough to ask him the question that’s been on your mind all night.

“Why did you tell me that Mel asked you to invite me?”

“What are you talking about?”

“When you invited me, you said that Mel told you to,” you explained in a slow voice as if you were breaking the situation down to a child. “But she said that you asked if you could invite me.”

“Why does it matter where the invite actually came from?” he asked. A slight panic was rising in his chest because he didn’t have an answer for you. This wasn’t supposed to come back around to you. “Everybody wanted you here anyway.”

“Why didn’t you ask Gianna?” you asked, stepping down to join him on the path to the driveway. He rolled his eyes at this, and you noted it because though you’d done it to him many times, he’d never done it to you. He began walking, so you followed. “Are you going to answer my question?”

“Because I didn’t want to introduce her to everyone yet,” he answered. “You just fit in with us.”

Nate saw your face fall and decided not to push the conversation any farther. He said something wrong, but he didn’t know what. As far as he thought, he was complimenting you. He was complimenting how easy going you were, how his friends got along with you so easily. You were already a part of the group. It was great.

You continued along to the car in silence, not bothering to argue with him over a dumb comment. He wanted friends, so you were giving him friends, but the touches and the invite to team dinner was something more than friends. You needed distance. And he needed to figure his shit out, fast.

---

Lesson #3: Meeting the Friends

Something changed. When Nate dropped you off that night, he left you with a half-assed hug and a quiet goodbye. You couldn’t catch a wink of sleep that night because something changed. But then, Nate texted you tomorrow and tried to carry on as normal. Things weren’t normal.

And you knew that for sure when Nate didn’t invite you to EJ’s house the next weekend. Mel invited you instead and since you could never say no to Mel, you went. The thought of texting Nate to let him know passed briefly through your head, but the sheer fact that he hadn’t even bothered to talk to you about it in the first place was enough to decide against it.

When you entered EJ’s living room, you knew exactly why he hadn’t asked. Gianna was sitting on his lap, fingers curling through his hair as they talked. Anger rose in you no matter how hard you tried to suppress it. Just last week he said he didn’t want to bring her around and now she was here? Now she was here and he couldn’t even talk to you?

There was an uproar as Nate’s teammates noticed you standing in the doorway and Nate’s eyes cut to you in surprise. You lifted your hand in a pathetic wave before Cale was wrapping his arm around your shoulders and leading you to the kitchen.

“Who’s the girl with Nate?”

“His new girlfriend,” you answered, hoping that you didn’t sound bitter. “I don’t even know if that’s the right title for her, but they’ve been on a few dates.”

Cale let out a soft hum, his tone indecipherable, just as Tyson entered the room.

“What’s the deal with Nate’s new girl?” he asked as soon as he saw it was just you and Cale in the room. When you didn’t answer, he nudged you for an answer.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“Well, she’s no you.”

---

Nate couldn’t help but ask himself, “What the fuck are you doing?”

As you were pulled into his teammates arms, he watched and couldn’t decide whether he wanted to get up and hug you too or if he just wanted to disappear. When Gianna’s fingers gripped his bicep, he decided he wanted the latter.

That’s when you looked at him, of course, and the smile that was on yours lips faded just a bit. At least, that’s what he thought. You lifted your hand in a wave before Cale was looping his arm around your shoulders and directing you towards the kitchen.

“Who was that?” Gianna asked, fingers curling into the hair at the nape of his neck.

He looked up at her with a simple answer. “One of our friends.”

Gianna kissed him and for the first time since he met you, Nate thought about what it would be like to kiss you instead. He brought her to EJ’s in a pathetic attempt to right the way he was feeling about you, but it only made it worse.

---

“Nate was weird last night,” Mel murmured after Cycle the next morning. You were waiting for her to say something. Since all the guys made comments the night before, you knew Mel was next. “Did you guys fight?”

“Fight? Me and Nate?” you repeated, stalling for time. “We didn’t fight.”

“What did you think of his girlfriend?”

“I actually didn’t get to talk to her,” you answered. You shrugged, giving the illusion that you didn’t care all that much even though you were fuming. After all the help you’d given him, he couldn’t be bothered to introduce you to her? And that wasn’t all. He hardly spoke to you all night, only entertaining conversations with you when someone else was around. You ended up spending most of the night with EJ.

“My sitter just bailed for tomorrow.” She’d been tapping away at her phone for a few minutes, no doubt panicking to Gabe. You watched her a moment longer as you wondered what her plans were for the next day. Then, it occurred to you.

“There’s a game tomorrow, right?” you asked. She nodded, still typing out messages to whoever was on the other end of the phone. “I can watch Linnea tomorrow. Don’t worry about finding a sitter.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that.” She waved you off absentmindedly and continued talking, “Besides, I thought Nate had a ticket for you or something. Didn’t he ask you to go?”

“Tomorrow?” you said incredulously. “No, absolutely not. Isn’t it like a WAG game? It would make no sense for me to be there.”

“Oh,” she murmured. “I just thought that he told Gabe,” she paused and noticed your set jaw. You were clearly not Nate’s biggest fan at the moment, so she decided to tread carefully. “You know what? Nevermind. I would love it if you could watch Linnea.”

---

As expected, Linnea was an angel the next day. You spent the time lounging in their living room with the game on TV while you played together. She took a bottle in the middle of the game and you brought her to her nursery once she’d been burped to rock her to sleep. But, you couldn’t quite peel yourself from the chair to put her in her crib. She was sleeping so peacefully and for the first time in a while you felt calm, so you stayed with her in your arms long after she’d fallen asleep.

You didn’t know what time it was when Gabe and Mel got home, but you heard their car doors close. You waited for them to happen upon you in the nursery, so you were surprised when it was Nate that knocked at the door.

“Hi,” he whispered, stepping into the room. He studied the decorations as he approached the rocking chair you were sitting in. When he stepped up beside you and admired Linnea, you tried not to look up at him. You knew it wouldn’t help the butterflies in your stomach, but you did it anyway. He was smiling down at the peanut in your arms. “Mel and Gabe are in the kitchen. They saw you on the baby monitor and told me to come get you.”

“Okay, I’ll put her down and meet you in there.”

“I can wait for you,” he said, stepping away. You stood, cradling Linnea to the crib and then craning to put her down in the center. Nate was watching you intently from the doorway with an unreadable expression on his face.

He stepped out into the hallway first, but he wasn’t walking towards the kitchen. He stood, waiting for you to stepped out into the hallway and look at him. You gave him a half-assed smile, still feeling a little hurt that things had been so weird between you two, and he asked, “Are we okay?”

“We’re fine,” you answered. He wasn’t convinced, but you reached up and shoved him lightly to get him to move down the hall. He didn’t budge, hand coming up to grasp yours against his chest. The beating of his heart sat right at your fingertips. “How was your game?”

“It was good,” he answered. “I wish you were there.”

“Well, then, you should’ve asked me to come,” you said, quite boldly. His lips parted, but whether it was to speak or not you wouldn’t know because you were continuing down the hallway without him.

You slipped into the kitchen to find Mel, leaving the men on the couch in the living room. The moment you stepped in, she was turning to greet you with a smile. You hissed, “Are you behind this?”

“I mentioned you were babysitting, his eyes lit up, and Gabe was the one to invite him over.”

“Team effort?”

She feigned an apologetic smile before ushering you out to rejoin the boys. Gabe got the fire going and Mel curled in his chest once he settled back on the couch. You sat on the other end, legs extended towards Nate in the corner. You felt his eyes whenever there was a suspended silence. You knew he was thinking about you, and selfishly you relished in the attention.

“YN, did you know that Nate’s parents were visiting next weekend?” Gabe asked during a lull in conversation. Nate glared at him, but the Swede happily ignored his buddy at the center of the couch. His eyes cut to you.

“I didn’t,” you answered. “But that’ll be fun. I know how much you missed them.”

All he could offer was a stupid ‘yeah’ before Mel swooped in to save the entire group from a very awkward moment.

Nate was going to kill Gabe. He was going to kill Gabe, but first he had to make a decision. He knew exactly what he had to do. It felt like you were a thousand miles away, not only physically but emotionally. Gabe should’ve kept his mouth shut. He was going to have you meet his parents, he just hadn’t gotten the chance to ask. Now, he looked like a dick. You couldn’t even look him in the eye.

“I was going to tell you about my parents,” he said, practically chasing you down the driveway after you ducked out while he was in the bathroom. To his surprise, you stopped walking and waited for him to catch up. “Seriously.”

“It’s getting hard to believe that, Nate,” you said. “I don’t know what’s going on in your head.”

Nate felt his heart sink. He began to rack his brain for a way to salvage the conversation, but it was too late by the time you reached your car. You stopped before opening the door to look up at him.

“You’re thinking too much.”

“I just—I know you’re upset with me,” he began. “I want to make it better. We haven’t really talked since EJ’s, and that’s on me.”

“Were you going to invite me today?” you asked. He gave you a curious look. “To the game. Mel mentioned something about it at Cycle. That you told Gabe you were thinking about giving your ticket to me.”

Nate ran his hand over his face. The Landeskogs had really gotten him into some trouble here, and he wasn’t sure it was accidental.

“You’re the one I wanted at the game,” he admitted. “I wanted to invite you, but I knew how bad it would look if I didn’t ask Gianna.”

“So, you invited her,” you concluded.

“No.”

You looked at him in shock, mouth agape, and asked, “You’d rather no one go than give the ticket to her?”

“Well, when you put it that way,” he grumbled. You threw your arms up in surrender, hoping the words would sink in. “I don’t know, YN.”

“Yes, you do,” you argued. He kept his mouth shut at that, knowing you had enough. You sighed heavily, allowing the conversation to roll off your back. “When are your parents going to be here?”

“Saturday morning.”

“What are you planning to do?”

“They’ll be at my game in the afternoon and then I was getting us a reservation for dinner,” he trailed off only momentarily. “I haven’t made it yet because I was going to invite you, but Gabe beat me to the punch in there.”

“What about Gianna?”

“YN, if I didn’t want her at my game, why would I want her to meet my parents?” he asked. He made it sound like you were asking the stupidest question in the world. But, he wasn’t answering the most important one. Was he breaking up with her? You wanted to ask, but part of you didn’t want the disappointment. He worried while you thought.

“I’m around on Saturday,” you answered. He smiled, and you forced one back. You hated the feeling between you two. The air between you had never been so stuffy and you wanted to clear it. “Anything else you wanna tell me before the Landeskogs do? Is Sid actually your long-distance girlfriend?”

Nate laughed loudly as he stepped away. He answered your question cryptically, “No, nothing to tell you right now. Not yet.”

---

Lesson #4: Meeting the Family

You planned to meet Nate at his apartment before dinner since his parents had gone to the hotel upon arrival. On the way, you picked up a box of pastries from your favorite bakery. You were taught to do little things for important people, and anyone who was important to Nate felt important to you. You tried not to think about the implications of having dinner with his parents, but it was hard to shake the nerves.

“What’s this?” he asked as soon as he opened the door. His finger slid over the logo on the top of the pastry box, eyes catching on the word bakery. When he looked up at you, his eyes were shining. “For me?”

“For your family,” you told him. “Don’t get any ideas.”

“I thought maybe you heard about my break up and you were trying to comfort me,” he said like it wasn’t breaking news. “I’ll put these in the kitchen.”

“You broke up?” you asked, following him to the kitchen. You stopped in the doorway as he put the pastries on the counter. He nodded simply as he cleared some clutter from the countertop. You could see his muscles moving beneath his navy polo. Guiltily, you couldn’t stop yourself from admiring the way the sleeves hugged his biceps or the wide expanse of his back and shoulders. “What happened, Nate?”

“We can talk about it later, alright?”

“Are you single or not?” you asked. Nate caught the frustration in your tone and he’d be lying if it didn’t make him want to kiss you right then. You needed to know what was going on with him, and that made him feel good about whatever was going on between you two.

Nate started to exit the kitchen, but stopped in the doorway beside you. You were crowded against his chest as he smiled down at you and answered, “Yeah, I’m single.”

You released a breath once he stepped out of the doorway. He slipped his shoes on while you stood nearly the front door. He caught the look on your face, a little scrunched up as you spaced out. You were thinking too much, worrying about what happened with him and Gianna. When he walked back over to the front door, he took you by the hips and said, “We can talk about it later, if you want. Right now, I just want to be with you and my family.”

---

“I’m nervous,” you admitted as Nate pulled up to valet outside the restaurant. He looked at you in shock. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not gonna make fun of you,” he promised. He reached over and dropped his hand to your thigh. You pouted at him, and his first instinct was to lean over the center console and kiss it off your lips. He knew better than to risk it all just before dinner, so he grabbed your hand and dropped a kiss to your palm instead. “You’ll be fine. No need to be nervous.”

A heavy sigh left your lips as he stepped out of the car. He rounded the front and opened the passenger door for you, grabbing your hand as you stepped out. After he handed his key to the valet, he laced his hands in yours and led you into the restaurant.

The MacKinnons were already at the table that had been reserved for them. There was uproar of cheers when they saw Nate walk in. You stole a peek at his face and the pure joy on it set your heart aflame. He dropped your hand as you approached the table to hug his parents and sister. They introduced themselves to you as well, sweeping you up in tight embraces like they had with Nate.

“It’s great to finally meet you,” they spoke as they hugged you.

Nate pulled your chair out from across his mother and then situated himself beside you. The menus were passed out and Nate whispered suggestions in your ear while his family members debated their own meals. She took the time to calm her nervous. Parents loved her, so there was no reason to freak out. Eventually the drinks were handed out, orders were taken, and the chaos at the table stopped.

“Now, how’d you two meet again?” his mom asked. You looked at each other, stupidly, both stammering in response until Nate got his shit together.

“We met through friends,” he answered simply. Then, his lips curled up and he said, “She yelled at me.” You dropped your face into your hands, embarrassed by the picture he was painting of you, but they took it in stride, laughing at your expression. “It wasn’t that bad.”

He continued, “As you guys know, I’ve been very unlucky in my personal life.” Sarah snorted at this. Their mother smacked her knee as a scolding. “I literally suck at being romantic and all the guys were joking around about it after I’d just been broken up with. YN called me out, so I asked her to teach me how to be romantic.”

“Well, what’d you learn?”

“How to cook a meal other than my pregame types, and I also have a new favorite florist,” he said. He reached into his back pocket for his wallet and flipped it open to slip out their business card. You didn’t realize he grabbed one. “There are some other things, like her wine rule.”

“Wine rule?”

“Nothing good ever happens after the third glass of wine,” you explained. They laughed at that, though they seemed bewildered by your reasoning.

Nate elaborated, “It just means that if your date stays for a fourth glass, you’ll probably get lucky.”

This earned him a smack on the arm from both his sister and yourself.

Nate’s family was just as kind as he was and it was clear how much they all adored each other. You fit in seamlessly, at least that’s how it felt, and when they asked the waitress to take a picture of them, Nate tugged you into his side to keep you in the frame.

“Take one without me,” you urged him. He just shook his head, gazing down at the picture on his phone. He passed it off to his parents and sister for approval. “Nate.”

“I want you in the picture,” he whispered to you. His hand came up to the back of your neck and he pulled you in to place a chaste kiss to your temple. He pulled away, like kissing you in public and on the forehead was normal now, and asked, “How was your food?”

When you got back to his place after dinner, you presented his mother with the pastries and earned a hug and kiss on the cheek as a thank you. They settled into the kitchen as he made drinks, chatting as a family about the people back home and his life in Denver. You slipped out to go to the bathroom, and give them some alone time.

“I like her,” you overheard his mother say as soon as you slipped out of the kitchen. You slowed your steps on your pursuit to the bathroom even though you knew it would be best to keep walking. You couldn’t help but be a little nosy.

“That’s good to hear,” Nate said. You smiled to yourself. “I like her, too.”

---

Nate’s family only stayed for another hour before you were bidding them farewell from his front door. They squeezed you and thanked you for the pastries, and then began inviting you to visit before Nate had to shut it down. Your heart felt full after spending the night with them, but sitting alone in Nate’s apartment in anticipation of what was to come was scaring the shit out of you.

Your hands were a little shaky and your palms were definitely sweaty. There was change coming, change that was already present, and you were both excited and terrified for it. Nate reentered the apartment not long after. When he saw you sitting on the couch, he released a breath he’d been holding.

“Are you going to stay for another glass?” he asked after locking the door behind him. “That one’s only your second.”

You eyed his smile, heart beat stuttering a bit beneath his gaze, and lifted the glass to your lips to finished what was left. You nodded and followed him into the kitchen. While he filled both your glass and his, you picked yourself up onto the counter like you’d done so many times before.

“I did a bad thing,” he murmured after handing your glass back to you. You raised a brow at him as he reached over to one of the cabinets and opened it to reveal two pastries in a Ziploc bag. “I stole two of them from my mom.”

“Nate!” you exclaimed. He chuckled at your exasperation. “I can bring you to that bakery whenever you want! Your parents don’t live here! It was a gift!”

“And they have the other eleven pastries,” he argued. “They’re not going to miss two.”

Reluctantly, but still with a smile, you took a pastry from his hand. You bit into it at the same time, eyes lighting up at the taste. At the sight of each other’s faces, you were doubled over in laughter before you had the chance to swallow what was in your mouth. You looked away from him to regain composure and only looked back when you were sure you wouldn’t choke.

“Those were fucking good.”

“Only the best for your mom.”

“Thank you,” he spoke. “For the pastries and for hanging out with my family today. I’m sure you had other things to do, but it meant a lot. They’ve been hearing a lot about you.”

“I had a lot of fun with them,” you said. His smile was soft, shy even, and he watched you carefully as you sipped from the glass in your hand. “It was nice to meet the people who made you who you are.”

“Wait until you meet Sid.”

You decided to move from the kitchen to the living room in favor of more comfortable seating. He reached his hand out behind his back, and you linked your fingers with his lazily so he could lead you to the couch. You slowed to a stop as he sat down, legs spread to pull you between them. Your hesitation caused a look of confusion to flash over his features.

“Can you tell me what’s going on inside your head now?” you asked, placing your glass down on the table beside the arm of the couch. He followed suit, then placed his hand delicately at your hip to urge you closer.

“Sure, I can,” he answered. He pulled you into his lap. You looped her arms around his shoulders as he flattened one hand against your back and curled the other around your thigh. “I don’t want to waste those romance rules on someone I don’t really like all that much.”

“You really didn’t like her?” you asked meekly. Of fucking course he didn’t like her, you were thinking. You were in his lap, not her, but you still couldn’t wrap your head around it. “Why?”

“The only reason I looked forward to going on dates with her was because I got to spend time with you before,” he confessed. You felt it all through your body. “I broke up with her the morning after we were at Gabe’s together. After you called me out on my bullshit, I knew I was being stupid.”

“Why me, though?”

“Because you deserve the world and I want to be the one to give it to you.”

It was only natural for you to lean in and capture his lips with yours. After all this time spent waiting and beating around the bush, you didn’t want to wait a second more. It was passionate, and new, and exciting. His hands held you close while your fingers curled into the back of his hair, but he wasn’t close enough.

You swung your leg over to straddle him, not caring that you were wearing a dress with just panties underneath. His hands flew to your hips as you grinded against him. You gasped against his lips at the friction as he held you tighter, teeth nipping at your bottom lip until you covered his mouth with yours again. He guided your hips to grind against him once more, but you braced your hands against his chest to push away.

“I’m not staying for a fourth glass,” you said breathlessly. He smiled up at you, eyes falling to your lips that were red and plump from kissing him. Kissing him! He leaned in, tongue swiping along his bottom lip, and pulled you down by the back of the neck.

He murmured through his kisses, “You didn’t even finish your third.”

At the challenge in his voice, you reached over for the glass on the side table and finished what was left. He held you close, laughing against the crook of your neck. You giggled along with him until you felt his lips against your skin again and a gasp fell from your lips.

“You gotta leave before I pour number four,” he warned, breath ghosting over your neck. He kissed your neck again, this time sucking lightly enough to earn a strangled moan. You pushed back against his chest and stood, flustered as you adjusted your dress and your hair. Nate couldn’t help but smile as he watched you cross the room for your purse. He grabbed a pillow and held it over his lap to hide his hard-on.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asked as you put your heels on the end of the couch. He was admiring your flushed cheeks and your wild hair as you busied yourself. You fastened the strap on each heel before looking back at him. It took everything in you to not go back over there and unbutton the rest of his shirt.

“Nothing,” you answered as you stood. He followed suit, adjusting his dress pants just a bit so he was comfortable and making you giggle in the process. He stepped up beside you and pulled you against him again. He placed one, two, three kisses against your neck then your jaw then your lips.

“Let me make you dinner.”

---

Nate wasn’t going to be able to keep his hands to himself. He knew that the second you walked out of your room in that little black dress, but he was really trying to be on his best behavior. It was technically only your first date and he wanted to impress you. You just weren’t helping very much. As soon as you were in his car, you were grabbing his hand and lacing it with yours to drop them into your lap.

He was a little nervous that he wasn’t going to be able to pull this off. He was sure that he’d fuck up somewhere and you’d go running. And, truthfully, you could tell that he was overthinking every little thing he did. The tension in his shoulders as he moved about the kitchen to prepare everything for dinner was clear.

“What’s wrong with you?” you asked.

He gave you the most pathetic shrug and shake of the head as he tried to wave off your concern with a soft, “Nothing.”

“That’s a lie,” you called him out. “You look stressed.”

“I mean, I am a little stressed,” he admitted, diverting his eyes from yours as he headed over to the fridge. “I don’t want to fuck this up.”

Before he knew it, you were standing between him and the refrigerator. You flattened your hands against his chest and slid them up until your hands were linked behind his neck. A slight tug on him was enough to get him to kiss you. He finally relaxed, arms dropping from the refrigerator door to grip your hips.

“You’re not going to fuck this up.”

“I don’t have a very good track record.”

“You do with me,” you said softly. He looked skeptical, not quite understanding what you meant, so you pressed against him as his arms enveloped you. “You gave me a sunflower the third time we were ever around each other. You’ve cooked me dinner already. Sure, it was under different circumstances, but it counts. Nate, you know exactly what you’re doing. Don’t overthink it.”

“Go sit,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You managed to calm his nerves better than anyone he’d ever known in a matter of seconds. “I’ll plate dinner and then I have to grab something for you, okay?”

Nate entered the dining room a minute later, placing both plates down across from each other before disappearing to grab wine glasses and another bottle of wine. Then, he was off down the hall to his bedroom. Your eyes followed him curiously, wondering what else he could possibly have up his sleeve. He’d already impressed you enough by cooking a meal you didn’t teach him.

“Oh, wow,” you breathed out when he appeared in the hallway with a bouquet of flowers. “Nate.”

“For you.”

You stood to take them from his hands and kiss him in thanks. When you pulled away, your fingers danced along the petals of the roses tucked between the sunflowers and baby’s breath Nate had grown to love too.

---

You filled your glass for a fourth time as inconspicuously as possible after your last bite of dinner, but Nate caught your eye over the bottle as you poured and you knew he knew what you were doing. He tried to stifle his smile unsuccessfully, picking up his own glass to cover it. One sip and his third glass was done.

“More?” you asked, extending the bottle in his direction.

“Four glasses?” he teased. “What do you take me for?”

“Okay, more for me then.”

Your voice was low, eyes dark as they settled on him, and suddenly he was lunging forward to grab the bottle and pour another glass for himself. Your giggles filled the room. He wanted them to echo off his walls forever.

“I want to take a picture with you,” he said. You gave him a curious look, though your stomach was doing cartwheels at the suggestion. “I keep thinking about your empty picture frame and I want you to have something to put in it.”

“We can take a selfie,” you suggested. He was quick to shake his head, pushing away from the table to take your hand and lead you to the patio. He pulled the phone from his back pocket and set it up against the couch. He removed the glass from your hand to place it out of view of the camera.

“Now, this is quite the set up,” you murmured as he moved furniture out of the way so there was ample space to take the photo. Denver’s city lights were sure to be the perfect backdrop and having Nate beside you wasn’t too bad either.

“Well, it has to be perfect if it’s going in your office.”

“How do you know I’ll even want to put it in the frame?” you asked. Nate pressed the timer and turned to walk back at you, smirk on his lips. You were teasing him, but you were playing innocent with those doe eyes. He curled around you, arms pulling your back against his chest to pose for the picture.

“After tonight, I’m sure you will,” he murmured in your ear. “Smile.”

The audacity of a man who tells you to smile after igniting your entire body in goosebumps.

The camera went off in a sequence, five pictures for the one timer. You smiled twice before he reached up to turn your face to his for a kiss. The sound of the shutter had you pulling away from his lips with a giggle. He smiled down at you for the next photo as laughter spilled from your lips, and then he was kissing you again.

When you finally pulled away from him, all giggly and handsy, Nate dragged you along with him to his phone. He curled around you as he flipped through the photos, each one cuter than the one before.

“Are you saying you wouldn’t put that in your office?” he asked. His breath tickled the back of your neck. You were just trying to tease him before, but with the lack of space between you and the way he was looking at you in these photos, you just couldn’t tease him anymore. His fingers trailed up your arms, goosebumps rising in their wake once again.

“How’s that fourth glass of wine treating you?” you asked. Nate tucked the phone in his back pocket as you turned to face him. His hands were on you once they were free, curling over the curve of your ass.

“I shouldn’t have let you talk me into it,” he murmured against your lips. “I’m trying to be good, but it’s impossible to keep my hands to myself.”

“What if I don’t want you to keep your hands to yourself?” you against, arching your body to press against him. You could feel him hard against your hip and knew you had him exactly where you wanted him. You pressed your lips to his and, as you pulled away, you took his bottom lip between your teeth and sucked on it.

A growl ripped through his chest as he lifted you into his arms. Your legs came to wrap around his waist as he carried you into the apartment and slammed the patio door shut behind him. He dropped you onto the bed, one hand coming to tug you towards the end by the ankle. His hands spread your legs so he could step between them and they slid up your thigh, pushing your dress up as they went.

“You don’t know how badly I’ve wanted to do this,” he murmured in your ear as his hands reached your hip, dress bunching around his wrists and revealing your lace panties to him. “Stealing touches in a crowded room just doesn’t compare.”

You lifted your arms as he guided the dress over your body and tossed it to the floor. At the sight of your match set, Nate pushed you up the bed and crawled over you. He peppered kisses along your skin from your collarbone to your chest. He worked his way down your stomach until reaching the top of your underwear. In on swift movement, your thong was on the floor and he was spreading your legs.

“So pretty,” he murmured, fingers spreading your folds. You moaned out as he slipped his finger in. “You like my fingers in your pussy, baby?” You could only manage to nod because he’d already slipped a second finger in. He curled them while he pressed a kiss against your inner thigh. “How about my tongue?”

Nate licked a stripe up your center and you gasped, hands flying down to curl into his hair as he continued to eat you out. He sucked on your pussy, continuing to thrust his fingers into and curl. He dragged moans out of you, obscene words dripped from your lips, and the filthy sound of his tongue filled the room.

“You taste so good.”

You tried to grind against face for some more friction, but he held your hips down and continued. You whined, tugging his hair and arching your back as he brought you to orgasm.

“Nate, I’m gonna cu—” you moaned, toes curling at the feet of his lips around you. Suddenly, cool air shocked your core and your orgasm retreated. You sighed as your whole body sank into the bed at the absence of stimulation. Nate crawled up your buddy, licking a stripe up your neck before attaching his lips to yours.

“Sorry, baby,” he said. He nudged your knees apart and situated himself between them, hand falling to his dick as he lined it up with your entrance. “I just need you to cum on my cock.” You moaned as he pushed his head between your folds. “YN, as long as you’re mine, I’ll never make you feel like you don’t deserve all the most romantic things.”

You answered with a moan as he bottomed out inside you. He watched your face as you adjusted to his size and smiled as you whimpered, pulling your teeth between your lips. You felt so good around him and as he began to pull out and thrust in again, your nails dug into his biceps.

You knew he was trying to take his time, but you could hardly take it. As far as you were concerned, Nate would have all the time in the world to take it slow with you. Tonight was not that night.

“Fuck me harder.”

When you sounded like that beneath him, how could he say no? His previously slow and calculated thrusts became sloppy at your request. He relished in the sound of your moaning and the way you called his name like a prayer. You were unraveling beneath him and he wanted to get you there. He adjusted your leg over his shoulder so he could hit a new angle.

“Come on, baby,” he moaned against your lips. “I wanna see you cum for me.”

He reached down and placed his thumb against your clit, rubbing in circles as he pumped into you. You screamed out and your body arched as your orgasm ripped through you. Nate pumped into you a few moments more as he chased his high while listening to your whimpers. He spilled out into his condom as a string of curses left his lips, then collapsed onto of you to catch his breath.

Your fingers immediately found his hair as your breathing evened out together. His body was hot on yours and a sheen of sweat covered both of you. Nate’s fingers curled around your waist and into your skin, squeezing you like he needed to get closer but couldn’t. Finally, he pulled out of you and sat back on his knees.

“You’re so beautiful,” he sighed, hands rubbing up your stomach to cup your breasts. You shivered at his touch. “I never want to leave this bed.”

“Not even for shower sex?”

“Okay, maybe for shower sex,” he murmured. He picked you up, tossing you over his shoulder to carry you to the bathroom.

---

A few hours (and orgasms later), you were clothed in Nate’s sweats and t-shirt and waiting for him beneath the covers in bed. He was cleaning up the glasses you left on the patio and running the dishwasher, though he was quick to finish it up and return to you. You looked so cute propped up against the headboard that he couldn’t stop smiling as he got ready for bed. He pulled on a pair of sweats, but remained topless as he slid under the covers. Instead of pulling you down to rest on his chest, he dropped his head onto your stomach and pulled you tightly to him. Your fingers carded through his hair.

“Thank you for tonight, Nate,” you spoke. “This was the best first date I’ve ever been on.”

“I’m counting this as our fourth date,” he responded. You laughed at him, slapping his bicep lightly at his teasing. “Let’s be honest, I was trying to impress you this entire time anyway.”

“Consider me impressed.”

Nate pulled you down to eye level with him, heads on your respective pillows, and then turned to shut the lamp off beside him. When he turned back, he pulled you against his chest. With your ear to his chest, you listened to his heartbeat and his breathing as it evened out. His fingers scratched your back ever-so-slightly as if soothing you to sleep.

“Are you happy?” he asked. You looked up at him with a curious gaze. Could he not tell how happy you were?

“Of course, I am,” you answered. “Are you?”

“How could I not be?” he asked. “You’re so far out of my league.”

“No, I’m not,” you groaned. You covered your blushing face with your hands at his words, hoping that he couldn’t feel the beat of your heart. Nate was quick to tug them down, holding them against his own chest. He didn’t care if you felt how hard his heart was beating. In fact, he wanted you to know. He wanted you to know the effect you had on him.

“You feel my heart, right?” he asked. You nodded. “You did that. You do that to me every single time I’m around you.” Your eyes began to water and you tried to pull your hand away from his to wipe the water pooling in the corner. Nate grabbed both your hands with one of his and wiped it with his own thumb. “I’ll never let you go to bed thinking I don’t love you. I’m going to shower you with flowers from our favorite florist and buy you pastries from that little shop you like, and I’ll never make you feel like you need to stifle yourself and who you are on account of me.”

“Nate.”

“Just listen to me, alright?” he asked, voice soft. You nodded. “Your ex stuffed you down and he didn’t appreciate you. That’ll never happen with me, and if you feel like it is, you need to tell me, just like you did when we first met.”

You tried to stammer through some type of coherent response, but words failed, so you kissed him. His arms wrapped around your waist to pull you flush against him and your legs intertwined. He was intoxicating, you couldn’t get enough, but he felt just the same. He wondered how anyone had let you go before and simultaneously thanked them for the gift that was you.

That night, Nate vowed he’d never let you go to bed unhappy and he’d never let you feel any less than perfect. He waited forever for a partner like you, honest and kind, and he finally had it in his hands, in his bed. And you promised that you’d never love anyone as much as you loved him. You just knew it.

#nate mackinnon imagine #nate mackinnon fic #nate mackinnon #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #nathan mackinnon imagine #nathan mackinnon fic

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todourouki · 3 years

Text

IT’S YOU.

♡ dabi todoroki

SUMMARY he hates to express himself but it’s now or never.

WORD COUNT 2.9K

WARNINGS angst, someone d*es sorry lol, fluff, sorry i miss dabi & i had to, also a suggestive joke cause it’s dabi

AUTHORS NOTE this is kinda trash cause i’m just warming up again lol <3 also it’s unedited lol sorry ly guys

** italics signify a flashback

Everything went to shit.

Nothing could be heard through your ears other than the large explosions and cries for help, flames of red and blue illuminating your face through the porcelain glass.

You should be out there. You should be fighting with everyone, trying to save the planet from the complete destruction and cataclysmic hurricanes of utter civil war.

Instead, you found yourself trapped within the walls of the practical prison cell, encaged within nothing but glass on the highest building in your current prefecture. You couldn’t remember when it happened, how it happened, how you get there, where it started— nothing.

All you could remember though, was yesterday morning. And as the flames began to grow closer in proximity to you, all you could do was think about him.

“Dabi, if you keep touching me with your cold ass feet I promise I’ll call the police and turn you in.” He could hear the irritation in your voice, doing nothing but chuckling and pulling you closer into his bare chest.

“You wouldn’t dare, you know that.”

His voice was soft for the first ever time, the sign of sleepiness still lingering behind his tongue as he lingered the ends of his words. The warmth of the winter sun hit your bodies through your shades, and you found yourself opening your eyes and doing something you rarely got the chance to do— admire Dabi.

He usually expressed his hatred for his appearance. It usually ranged from the two-toned colors loitering his body, the staples holding him together, to even the simplest of things such as his hands being too weak or his weight not being strong enough.

Everything he ever complained about though, were things you found yourself falling deeper and deeper inlove with as the days progressed. The sunlight hit his skin softly, the white duvet perched across his shoulders showing that he at least got cold even though he felt like a human radiator.

“You’re so pretty.” Your simple words silently slipped, his ears perching up in his sleep but his scowl remaining against his monotonous face.

You knew he liked it though, from the way his fingers heated up just a tad bit and caused you to blush for him. He wasn’t a friend of admitting the way he felt, giving out compliments whether they be true or not, or doing anything remotely close to giving you any kind of affection that wasn’t physical. You knew this tough, from the moment you got yourself involved with someone like him.

You knew that getting into Dabi’s life and lingering around meant that your life would permanently be in danger, would never be the same, and would never be safe. You knew all of this, yet you never batted an eye on whether or not you wanted to deal with it for as long as you lived— you knew you would die for him if he’d ask you to.

Sometimes you thought of saying those three words you knew scared him. They almost slipped more than a few times, and it was Dabi that prevented you from doing so by doing things such as changing the conversation topic and reaverting your attention towards anything, absolutely anything else.

To tell the truth, you were scared of admitting it to him as well. Dabi was a criminal, and not just any criminal, but thee criminal of the hour. He was plastered all over Tokyo with nothing but a mugshot taken when he was about two years younger and a life sentence he refused to give in to. You knew what would happen if news got out that you had invested your time with someone like him.

You would potentially lose your family, everything you’ve ever worked for, your job, you’d lose it all. It never bothered you though, because you’d do anything for him. Anything.

And as you felt the words begin to form from the bottom of your throat, you realized those cerulean eyes were now staring back at you. It was almost as if the world didn’t exist when you were with him, and you would give anything to be able to say those words. Anything just to show him your devotion for him, and how you would kill or be killed for him.

Like clockwork, the opportunity fell from your hands and onto the ground like shattered glass when you felt him peck your cheek with something hidden in his irises. “Let’s get out of bed, yeah?”

Tears fell from your eyes, silent whimpers growing louder as you realized what was happening. Your feet began to ache, body spiraling down in pain with nothing but heartbreak racing through your veins.

You hadn’t seen Dabi since that morning, the chaos only growing the minute he slipped through your apartment door and not bothering to call, text, or even see you.

The world was ending, and you never got the chance to tell Dabi you were in love with him.

You knew everything was coming to an end. He had warned you things were only growing worse, heroes and villains alike reaching a point so desperate in finishing the war, they’d both resort to anything. And that anything, was currently demolishing the streets in front of your own eyes.

The blue flames only grew in damage, covering towers of glass and growing closer in proximity into the glass bubble you were stuck behind. You were the only person up there, being led to safety by a hero much too young to be in such a situation and bringing you to even more tears.

You wanted to scream— cry for anything or anyone to help you so you could just get out and look for him. It’s all you wanted, to just hold him once more and feel his snide remarks slap you hot against your skin one last time.

“Hey dollface.”

The voice you heard forced your breath to cave in, voice being numb from the tears falling earlier enough to where all you could do was turn and feel your heart break even more.

He was missing a few staples, a bullet wound pressed against his white shirt near his torso and his body seeming weaker than you’d ever seen it. His hair was disheveled more than usual, coat missing, and skin beginning to detach itself from his thin frame. His face was tired, voice wavering from pain and exhaustion and you felt your body freeze.

“Dabi?” Your voice was sweet to him, music to his ears finally being played at a lesser pressure to where if tears could fall down his eyes, they would.

He had searched everywhere for you, ignited the streets in flames looking for anyone that knew of your whereabouts no matter who or what they were. He saw your weak frame run towards the end of the glass he stood on the opposite side of and his body limped closer to you.

If only you could see how much it hurt him to not be able to hold you, looking at you cry and mourn through glass hurting him more than he thought anything ever had. He knew it was his fault for getting so attached as for involving you in this mess. It was his to clean up but he let you help him and manage to self destruct your future quicker than he could stop you.

“Missed me?” His smirk was lazy as usual, but weak enough to falter as his head knocked across the glass and held its eyesight on you.

You were crying, not being able to stop yourself from leaning against the glass right with him and he couldn’t say it hurt him any less than it did. It fucking killed him to see you like this. He knew he couldn’t break through the glass without killing you, and he knew you couldn’t break the glass unless the hero who surrounded you in it was there. And he had never wanted to kill someone more than he wanted to kill that guy— not even his own father.

“Please tell me you’re okay.” You whimpered, hands flat across the glass as your chest heaved up and down in nothing but pain.

Dabi heard them getting closer from a distance, the sound of screams beginning to crowd his ears and preventing him from hearing to your voice so clearly. He knew he had to say something- he had to do something if he wanted to have time to do it before the end.

“Don’t worry about me, just do me a favor and listen alright?” His voice held the usual attitude it did when you’d speak to him, the pain growing more and more noticeable as he started to wince after each growing syllable.

You always listened to him, and as much as you wanted to scream at him to get you out of there so you could just feel your skin on his, you knew it wasn’t the time yet. His hands slowly raised towards yours on the glass, something he would have never done under any other circumstance other than this one and you knew. You knew what he was doing.

“I love you,” the words fell flatly, echoing through your brain as you sucked in air and watched as blood began to drip from the hand falsely holding yours across the glass, “I fucking love you.”

“I don’t know what to do with myself if I’m not waking up next to ya’, or what to do if I’m not laying with ya’, but I know what I’m gonna have to do now if it means you get to get out of here okay.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, your posture straightening and beginning to panic. “Dabi, what the fuck are you talking about?”

You saw him squeeze his eyes shut, blood growing against his eyelids and starting to trickle down his burned cheeks. The air you once knew how to breathe without thinking started to slip through your lungs faster than you could catch up, and you knew you were living out your worst nightmare.

The screams Dabi had been waiting for grew, footsteps flying up the stairs behind him growing in sound and he knew time was limited. He knew he needed to do this now or he’d never get a second chance.

“I’m doing this to save you, so don’t think I’m doing this to find an excuse to get your annoying ass out of my life.” His words caused you to sob, air leaving your lungs as your dainty hands slammed across the unbreakable glass.

“Shut the fuck up! Don’t you fucking DARE!” Your words hit him hard, nothing but a small smirk lifting against his lips and staring back at you with blood streaming eyes.

“You know I have to, even if I don’t wanna. So listen good. In about three seconds, those guys are gonna slam through the door and kill me and I’m gonna let them.”

“I’m gonna let them do to me what they should’ve done a long time ago if it meant I got to give ya’ a better chance at life so it’s what I’m doing, okay? I’m giving you a chance to do some shit you couldn’t do with me sticking around.”

Dabi’s words burned through your ears and you knew nothing hurt you more than this. The pain of smacking against the glass only caused bruises to form against your knuckles. You wanted to keep hitting, to keep fighting, and to keep doing whatever you possibly could’ve done if it meant you’d get to hold him and stop him from being so fucking stupid. But this was a fight that was already won, and it’s what hurt you the most.

“You’re the most beatiful shit I’ve ever seen in my life. You make the best fucking French toast I’ve ever had, and your lips are better to me than any fucking weed I’ve ever smoked in my life.” The footsteps grew louder, and he knew this was all he could say before it was over.

“I never told you cause I was a fucking pussy but right now I’m facing death and nothing could be worse than this. I fucking love you, Y/N. I love you and you’re the greatest thing to ever happen to me. Maybe if I wasn’t a criminal about to die I woulda married ya’ with a ring I stole from Shig but I am.”

You watched something glimmer from his fingertips, the sight causing your breath to get stuck between your throat and hold itself longer than you could handle. He was going to propose to you.

Within seconds, the door slammed open and there stood police officers with guns and weapons piling through. They were yelling, and you knew you should’ve been listening to their words but all you could do was stare at the ring Dabi dropped underneath his foot and hid beneath his shoe.

“They’re gonna kill me and I’ll never be able to feel you against me again, but know that nobody in this world will ever make me feel the way I do or did with you. Do something with your life while I’m gone, dollface.”

That’s all he could say before turning his body around, giving you one last view of his arrogant smirk before trying to shoot his arm out to give himself one last method of defense. The only problem was that he didn’t stand a chance. You couldn’t watch, knowing that if you did you’d lose your mind more than you were going to eventually anyway so you blinked.

You blinked for a really long fucking time, long enough to slip down the glass with your hands following the trail of blood Dabi’s hands left as his lifeless body rested against the cage holding you in.

You couldn’t hold him, you couldn’t smell him, you couldn’t even tell him you loved him back. He never gave you the chance to say it, and when he finally admits it to you, his body loses every inch of life it was granted before you were even given the chance.

You wanted to hate him, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t find it within yourself to do anything other than weep and sob Dabi’s name like a mantra. Because this was it. You were there when he took his last breath to finally admit he loved you and you couldn’t even say it back, without the chance of ever saying it again.

You’d lost him, and couldn’t even try to save him from his own self.

Dabi’s body rested on top of yours, head nuzzled between the crevice of your breasts and breath pattering against your exposed nipples as you both lay there speaking of nothing but nonsense. That was, at least until he cleared his throat and began to rub his warm hands against your waist.

“You wanna know something, Y/N?” He muttered, causing you to giggle softly and run a hand through his raven hair.

“What, Dabi?” The snow falling outside was louder than it had ever been before, the silence after you replied consuming you so strongly and so loudly you would’ve been concerned if it wasn’t for him opening his mouth yet again.

“When all this shit ends,” his staples clicking and deep voice was the only thing circling against the room, taking a second to think and finally finding his voice once again, “I think I’m gonna take you out on a date.”

The laugh that left your lips was one that made Dabi smile, playfully glaring up at you with an eye and joining you in a slight chuckle. Dabi usually said stupid flirtatious remarks like this, but hearing him offer to take you out on a date was beyond anything you’d ever heard.

“Oh really? Where are we gonna go, lover boy?” Your hands continued to run itself through his hair, words tickling at his scalps and making him relax even more into your body’s sanctuary,

“Anywhere else. As long as I got your dumbass with me.”

The words rang deep, your hand stopping slightly and cheeks burning more as the words echoed through your head. He wasn’t one for romantics or for sappy comments but this one hit a bit deeper than it probably should have for you. You knew it took a lot for him to say, being well aware of his faux emotional aloofness to really just cover up the fact that he’s an undercover softy.

“Simp.” Translated in Y/N’s language: I love you.

“Don’t be such a bitch about it.” Translated in Dabi’s language: I love you, more.

Silence covered your ears once more, nothing but flashing Tokyo lights illuminating through to it window with snowflake shadows dancing across your white walls. Moments of peace like this were rare, especially with Dabi being in your bed with you for as long as he pleased.

You appreciated moments like these the most, his body weight fitting like a puzzle on top of yours. You both continued to crack a few jokes, talking about nothing and everything at the same time until someone (most likely you, honestly) fell asleep with a small smile imprinted on the two of you.

You know moments like these were only the beginning of your relationship, and you knew you’d do anything for Dabi to make sure you got to show him how much you appreciated them until the day you died.

You knew it wouldn’t be for a while though, since your love was too strong to get any of you killed.

—

#dabi x reader #dabi todoroki #dabi todoroki x reader #dabi angst #dabi fluff #dabi bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha #mha #bnha x reader #todoroki #my hero academia x reader #mha angst #bnha angst #dabi todoroki angst #tw// death

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kurlyfrasier · 3 years

Text

Love Unknown (Part 1)

My dearest, most patient Nonny (you know who you are). I give you; PART ONE of your request. I hate that you’ve had to wait such a ridiculously long time for your request, so I thought I’d go ahead and give you the first bit. I hope you enjoy! Also, you never specified if you wanted the Reader and Raph to be in a relationship already so I hope you don’t mind that they are not in one at the moment.

Pairing: Raph x Reader

The Request (includes obvious warnings): its about angst, (spoiler), fight, blood and (spoiler again). ok, raph had a fight with reader so he say bad things to her, so he listens music (ZAYN & Sia - Dusk Till Dawn) because he was sad and crying but she could never hate raph, so after raph... (I’m leaving this part out of the request so there’s not so many spoilers) ....so he goes to reader and they make up. (possible trigger warning in tags that I took out of this request; may have to expand tags to see it)

A/N: I actually don’t watch any of the TMNT series’ so I know nothing about Destructor X (I’m assuming that’s who you wanted as the villain. I had to look it up). So, I took the liberty of changing the villain to one I know a tiny, itty bitty bit more about. I sincerely apologize if this ruins it for you. Also, this is a first draft.

Disclaimer: I own no TMNT anything, nor do I know any NYC geography, song belongs to Zayn & Sia, and last - but not least - Nonny owns this lovely, specific request! Honestly, I could do SO MUCH with this and it was hard to choose how to go about it. Last thing, I promise: If anyone thinks of a better title, PLEASE SHARE IT cuz I am terrible at coming up with titles.

Word Count: 1189

Raph fell onto his bed with a loud huff, body trembling from the hours-long workout he just finished. Yet, he was still angry - at himself more so than you. The words he spouted at you in a jealous rage- He shook his head, barely hearing the music blasting through his overly-large headphones as he recalled you wrestling with Mikey. His hand hovered, prepared to rip his headphones off, when the song changed to one you must have added to his playlist. You always did silly things like that; instilling bits of yourself into the turtles lives. They all loved it.

Especially him.

Especially on the days when you weren’t able to come visit.

Today had not been one of those days, but he had ruined it minutes into your visit.

His arm landed heavily next to him. Savoring the song, he closed his eyes. Unable to stop himself from falling for you even harder than he already had. A tear escaped, sliding down his cheek. Everything about the song reminded him of how he wished he could be with you. How he wanted to be there with you from dusk to dawn. How he wished to watch the sunrise with you. How he wished he had the right to touch you as the song implied.

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

“Something’s wrong,” Donnie whispered to Leo, pointing to a large screened device as Raph walked into the dojo, ready for patrol. “Her phone suddenly disconnected and I can’t pinpoint her on the GPS.”

Raph froze at his brother’s words, stomach sinking. He had a gut feeling they were talking about you.

“Has she ever turned off her phone before?” Leo asked quietly, voice calm.

“Never,” Donnie emphatically shook his head, looking more worried by the second. “I’ve explained to her that she has to make sure her phone never dies and she nevers turns it off. Otherwise, if something happens…” He let the sentence hang.

“It’s possible (Y/n) forgot to charge her phone and-”

“That wouldn’t happen Leo!” Donnie whisper-shouted, shooting daggers at their brother. “She’s more responsible than that.”

“I know, I know,” Leo raised his hands in surrender. “I’ll go check her apartment and make sure everything’s okay.”

“What about R-”

“Don’t say anything until I get back,” Leo turned on his heel to find the very brother he was hoping to avoid, eyes widening slightly before forcing a neutral expression once more.

“Where ya goin’?” Raph asked, feigning nonchalance. Inside, he was raging, blood deafeningly pumped through his veins.

“Just getting some fresh air before we head out on patrol, is all,” he lied, making his way out of the dojo.

“I call bull,” Raph stated, eyes cold as he challenged their so-called leader, grabbing his brother’s arm in a vice-like grip. “What’s going on,” he growled out.

“It could be nothing, Raph. Calm-”

“(Y/n)’s phone is off,” Leo snapped his head in Donnie’s direction to find him marching their way. “Last I saw, she was headed East on Michigan Avenue.”

“When?”

“A couple of hours ago-”

“And you didn’t think to wake me!?” Raph released Leo to shake some sense into Donnie. He may have been a genius, but he could be a real dunce sometimes. “What if somethin’ happened to her! Huh!? What then!?”

“I thought-”

“It don’t matter what ya thought, Donnie!” Raph roared, shoving his brother away, causing him to stumble to the ground.

Next thing Raph knew, he and his brothers were topside, rain beating down on them in torrents as they headed East on Michigan, but he didn’t feel the cold. His only thoughts were of you; your scent, your hair, your laugh, that spark in your eye when you were up to something - or angry, now that he thought about it. Point was, if anything happened to you… he would never be able to forgive himself. Heck, he wasn’t sure he would live. You were his sunshine on his darkest days, the one thing he looked forward to most was seeing your smiling face. Not that you knew this, especially after your fight earlier in the day.

One thing he knew for certain, on top of all that, was that he would never deserve you.

He was a monster. Something he proved all too well earlier that day and he wouldn’t be at all surprised if you hated him for it. Even he knew that he blew up for no good reason.

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

You were drenched, and not from the sprinkle of rain that hit you- how long ago was it now? You didn’t know. It could have been minutes. It could have been hours. The warm, thick liquid dripped down your temple from the last blow Karai had given you with the butt of her tanto blade. Eyes closed, you let out a groan, head pounding from the memory.

They had left you; the lowly Foot Clan soldiers and Karai, but you knew they’d be back for more. Considering how silent you were about the turtles whereabouts, you basically guaranteed yourself a nice, long torture. Karai just had to go get her ‘tools’, as she called them. Personally, you thought her fists, feet, and tantos were enough.

Opening your eyes, you sought a way to escape. Not that you had any luck so far ridding yourself of the deadly tight ropes tying you to the hard, metal chair you sat in. Still, the thought of escape had you squinting into the darkened room. The only light was when lightning struck in the sky, seeping through the windows close to the ceiling. There were a few open, allowing the booming thunder to roll easily to your ears and rain to drip down the walls. Stacks of boxes surrounded you. If they weren’t too terribly heavy, you might be able to move a stack to create a makeshift staircase to the windows. You wriggled, but it only seemed to tightened the ropes at your wrists and ankles.

With a deep breath you thought of Raph. He was your best friend. If you were to die tonight you hoped he knew you didn’t hate him. Knowing him, that’s exactly what was running through his head. He was so passionate about everything he did. He felt everything so much more than you did, it seemed. Except for maybe one thing; your love for him. Nothing he ever did or said would ever turn your heart away from him. Granted, you did wonder what shot him off this time. He almost never took his anger out on you unless you did something dangerous; like try to follow him on patrol or go through dark alleys or- Well, the list went on. You did like pushing his buttons, but you liked how much he worried over you even more.

The small smile that crept onto your lips faded the moment Karai slammed open the door, making a grand entrance with a wheeled table covered in objects that reflected the bit of light that now lit the room, giving it an almost romantic glow. It was a small fight to stop the laugh that bubbled in your throat.

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

Part 2

#tmnt #raph x reader #donnie #mikey #leo #angst #violence #blood #happy ending #my writing #fanfic #teenage mutant ninja turtles #some words that could be considered spoilers #enjoy!#character death #karai

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tomsrebeleyebrow · 3 years

Note

Can u do a dad boxer!tom holland x mom reader were they have a 2 month old baby girl and she suprises him at his boxing match and he gets kind of upset because she doesn’t want the baby there for safety and the environment. And he opponent says some disrespectful stuff about the baby and reader and long story short Tom gets kicked out the ring . Angst but a happy ending

ouuh yes! thanks for giving me some boxer!tom with dad!tom as a bonus darling 💞

slight angst, language and fighting under the cut

｡･ﾟﾟ･ clearing my inbox… slowly ･ﾟﾟ･｡

During his successful boxing journey, Tom finally reached his goal at being the youngest participant in his category thanks to all these endless hours spent at the gym. It finally paid off. Nonetheless he wouldn’t be here without you, his best supporter, who never got scared about his quite peculiar job and the first to treat his wounds after a match. You, the mother of his child, a two-month healthy baby girl. The thought of being a dad never crossed Tom’s mind but you gifted him with something he never thought he deserved. And here he was now, living from his passion next to the ones he loved the most because he wanted to give his family the best.

And tonight was the night. But he was really stressed.

Alone in the locker room, Tom sat on a bench while keeping his head between his hands, his boxing gloves resting on his thighs. It became his ritual before every match to get mentally prepared by himself, to get “in the zone” as he always said. Once done he stood to bandage his hands before putting his gloves on when he heard three knocks on the door before it opened.

“Ready, Tom?” asked his coach fully appearing at the door, hands in his jeans pockets.

Tom nodded, a slight frown on his face showing he was indeed ready. “Yes, coach.”

“Good. But before that, your little fanclub wants to see ya.”

The words from the coach confused Tom for a second, just like the grin he gave him right before slightly moving to the side, letting a very familiar figure make its way in the room. Tom’s face lightened up at the sight of you – as beautiful as ever with that candid and gorgeous smile of yours – and he got ready to take you in his arms to welcome the good luck charm kiss you always gave him before his matches.

“Babe! You made it–”

But he suddenly stopped, the words blocked in his throat, as he saw another presence he was not expecting to see at all. His smile instantly vanished to be replaced with one of confusion.

“What is Maya doing here?”

Maya, your two-month daughter. His little bubble of joy and pride. The baby was nicely wrapped around a white fluffy blanket to block the cold air from the place, a cute pink beanie poking out of it while she was peacefully sleeping in your arms.

You softly kissed your baby’s forehead then looked up at your partner, smiling. “Lily wasn’t able to babysit her tonight, so I just decided to bring Maya with me so she will cheer for you too. I also saw your mum in the bleachers, she kept a spot for us and–”

“Maya has nothing to do here, (Y/N)!”

Tom’s voice startled you, he never raised his voice at you. “B-But I thought you’ll be happy? I-I didn’t know you would be this upset–” You blinked a few times, slightly confused but before you could add anything else, Tom spoke again.

“That’s not a place for a baby, of course I’m upset!”

Again you got startled by his voice. Tom’s coach was still standing at the doorframe of the room, clearly uneasy at the scene going on in front of him, but decided to not say a single word since he had no right to interfere in his protégé’s private life. Still, a sudden tension rose and was obvious in the lockers.

You brought Maya closer to your chest, eyeing her down hoping she didn’t wake up. You thought you acted with good intentions, never thinking a second about upsetting your lover right before the most important match of his career. Your eyes diverted from Tom’s, looking down at your feet as your entire frame started trembling, trying your best to not cry by biting your bottom lip hard because it was not the time to make a scene.

“Fuck,” whispered Tom, finally back to his senses when he saw you shut yourself away like you often did during stressful situations. “I’m sorry, love, I shouldn’t have raised my voice at you.”

He approached you with big steps, his arms gently embracing you and his daughter against his strong frame and proceeded to kiss your temples to soothe you. “Shhh, it’s alright, baby. I’m not mad at you at all, I love y–”

“Well well well, would ya look at ‘dis!”

Fuck, not him.

A baritone voice echoed in the hallway behind you, the sarcastic tone making Tom’s body tense as his look automatically fell onto the one person he didn’t want to see right now. Or at least before the actual match. His tonight’s opponent. Tom’s coach clicked his tongue while arranging his cap, hoping desperately that nothing would go wrong.

You turned your head towards the voice, Tom making sure to keep you and your daughter as close to him as possible, his hands tightening around your hips as he took a step back, bringing you with him.

“Tommy brought his lil’ family here!” the opponent said with a dirty smirk painted on his face. A simple glance at him brought shivers down your spine, applying a slight pressure of Maya’s face to hide her against your chest. You swallowed with some difficulties, your mouth now dry as you also felt tension invading your lover’s body. “Thought it was a friendly family show, boy? Want ‘em to watch how much I’m gonna destroy ya not even your lady will recognize ya?”

Tom’s jaw tensed and his coach had the good reflex to somehow peacefully step between them both, also trying to take you away from being in the middle.

“Don’t worry, I’ll give ‘er a go once I’m done with ya, loser. Gonna shag ‘er good like real men do–”

You were brought to the side with Maya by the coach just in time before Tom stomped his way on his opponent, almost jumping on his throat as he succeeded at punching him in the face the way he deserved it. Tom was seeing red, adrenalin invaded his body and boiling in his veins at such inappropriate comments made to you, the love of his life.

Before this could go even further, Tom’s coach and his opponent one quickly stepped in to separate and calm the two men. Insults were of course thrown at each other, Tom still badly determined to give one or two more punches to this despiteful human being but thankfully, his coach succeeded at holding him down.

Once all the chaos died in the locker room, Tom also calmed down then quickly came back at you, his body in desperate search for you and his daughter. He muttered so many “sorry”’s in your ears, his face nestled in your neck while embracing you against him. All you could do was hug him back, the harsh words from that rude man still resonating in the back of your head as a sob broke from your lips. Tom gently rocked you side to side, hoping to also soothe his little Maya who just started to whine lightly in her blanket. You stayed like this, the three of you engulfed in each other’s warmth until they called him to join the boxing ring, you and your lover exchanging words of love and encouragement in soft whispers.

But tonight, Tom lost the final.

All the stress he accumulated before the match didn't help for sure, but it was never your fault. He admitted it himself when his coach was treating and stitching some of his wounds back in the locker room. His opponent was definitely stronger than he was. Nonetheless the match promoted Tom in another way, still giving him good publicity as one of the best new talents in the boxing field.

After he took a shower, Tom wrapped a towel around his hips and got back to his locker to get fresh clothes when he saw you sitting on the bench. Aware of his presence you stood up, a worried look on your face and decided to wait for him to walk to you. You must have left Maya to his mum since he saw no stroller in the room. He opened his arms as he approached you then welcomed you back in his embrace, your arms wrapping themselves around his waist and still careful to not apply too much pressure to the spot he got hit on.

He let out a long sigh, this time more relaxed, and pressed a few kisses on the crown of your head. You looked back up at him, chin resting on his torso as one hand gently rested on his cheek to caress the bruise slowly darkening on his cheekbone. Your eyes locked with his in silence.

“I lost, I’m sorry,” Tom whispered before leaving another feather-like kiss on your forehead.

“I’m the one who should be sorry.” Your soft eyes appeased him, just like your big innocent eyes did. “I never intended to upset you, a-and I’m sure that’s why you lost tonight–” Once again your lips pressed tightly in a thin line to stop any sob to leave. “A-And you also got injured, I’m so sorry Tom, I–”

Tom interrupted you with a deep kiss – at first he wanted to give you a soft one but your distressed look pained him too much. He cupped your face in his still moist hands from the shower, making sure to not let you go. When you finally parted to catch your breath, your lips stayed close to one another, still bruising and sharing the same air.

“It was not your fault, baby,” Tom said while gently caressing your cheeks. “It’s my stupid ass to blame here. I got carried away by too many things but the worst was I almost made you cry, when I promised I would never. You and Maya are the most precious things in my life that I should protect at all cost and even if I lost the match tonight, at least I gave this asshole some good well-placed punches in his face.”

You slightly giggled at Tom’s cheeky comment, clearly to caml the atmosphere. He pecked your lips once again before you nuzzled your face against his still naked torso, the natural scent of his skin relaxing you.

“No one messes with my family, or death is what’s waiting for them.”

… I should write more angst 😂

Tagging some mutuals and cuties✨ @allegra-writes @queencharry @tom-holland-is-spiderman @parkerpeter24 @thollandss @worldoftom @spideyspeaches @chaoticpete @tetralea @londonspidey

#blurb #tom holland #tom holland x reader #dad!tom #boxer!tom #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland x you #tom holland blurb #tom holland one shot #tom holland oneshot #tom holland scenario #tom holland imagine #tom holland imagines #tom holland au

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akitokihojo · 3 years

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Monster - Chapter 17

chapter index

Rushing water filled Kagome’s ears, the feeling of being pulled under a rushing current, unable to fight her way to the surface. She could barely see through her struggle, but she felt the restraint on her lungs as they burned for air. Her fingers extended as she reached, and reached, and reached, always falling short of the surface as bubbles rode around her from the tumbling roll of the river.

Deep brown eyes blinked open to be greeted by light fluttering through the white curtains of the window, hitting the cabin-like, wooden wall opposite. It was early. The air was crisp, chilly, and after checking blearily to see that her hands were clean, Kagome inadvertently tucked her arms under the comforter to cuddle up in the warmth beneath. If that was the nightmare she suffered from after everything, then she couldn’t help but consider herself lucky. It still shook her, that was undeniable. But, for some reason, it was incomparable to Kikyo’s death or the evil in Naraku’s stare.

Kagome didn’t want to close her eyes again and risk seeing either right now, so she continued to blink her drowsiness away. She’d kill for more sleep, truthfully. She was absolutely exhausted still. But, she was scared.

And, she had to pee.

With a little wiggle to begrudgingly crawl herself closer to the edge of the mattress, Kagome registered the large hand contentedly resting on her hip. She glanced over her shoulder then, noticing her significant other in a deep sleep behind her. It was impossible not to have observed just how gorgeous his eyelashes were before, but now that he was unconscious, eyelids closed, the way the long length of the silver lashes rested against his cheek had her envious. At some point in the night, Inuyasha must have taken his hair down, silky strands of pearl curving over his shoulder and in front of his chest. His bangs fell to the side, and she could see the cut on his forehead was significantly smaller in size, the bruise around it already faded to an extremely light shade of yellow.

In the morning light, how it only managed to hit the side of his cheek as he faced away from the window, Inuyasha almost appeared angelic. Maybe it was her biased mind, how infatuated she was with the man, but his skin tone harbored an ethereal glow. It wasn’t often that she got to see him sleep. She was typically the one that crashed first, and he had the tendency to go days without before his fatigue caught up to him. But, here he was now. His right arm was curled beneath his head on top of the pillow, his mouth was relaxed, his brow wasn’t creased in normal Inuyasha fashion, his breathing was deep and rhythmic, and a heavy palm protectively laid on top of her hip. Suddenly, she was incredibly apprehensive to wake him.

Kagome moved as carefully as possible, removing his wrist from her body and ever so gently placing it to rest on the bed. Slowly, she scooted herself to the edge, feeling she was in the clear to remove the blanket from her body and sit up, but the moment she lifted to an upright position, her entire torso flinched. Holy crap, she was so freaking sore. Kagome had tensed rigidly enough to prevent her audible gasp, but the jolt, itself, was what she worried about disturbing Inuyasha with, so she slowly turned around, holding her breath, noticing his state hadn’t changed. Thank goodness.

Every motion had Kagome wishing she could just lay in bed like a starfish. Can’t feel pain if you’re not moving. Her muscles burned with each step she took, and she wanted to groan like an old man as if it would release some of the stress she was under. It had to have been her struggle to swim in the river. Logically, she was putting all of her strength into her efforts to get out, so it made the most sense.

Instinctually, her hands were cupping her bare breasts. She was still nude, the air was nippy, and she was overtly aware of how naked she was in the open, so Kagome looked around for some clothing. Inuyasha’s discarded shirt from the day before lay not too far on the floor, but it wasn’t in the best condition. Otherwise, if she wanted an easy route, her towel was near the wall, but it only made her lip curl in dissatisfaction. Her only other option was to dig in her bag for something.

As quietly as she could, crouching down in front of the sack, Kagome opened the top pouch by loosening the drawstring, cringing with each little noise she made and peeking over to the hanyou to make sure she hadn’t woken him up. Inuyasha hadn’t moved, nor had the rise and fall of his chest changed. She was still good. Reaching in, Kagome grabbed the first thing on top, unfolding it to quickly see what it was and noticing it was her boyfriend’s shirt. With a little, pleasant wiggle, Kagome pulled the baggy garment over her head, letting it tent over her.

Perfect.

No pants necessary. No underwear necessary. His shirts were like wearing a dress. A very short dress, but a dress nonetheless, the bottom hem landing just above mid thigh.

Kagome snuggled into the sleeves, picking herself up to stalk off to the bathroom, enshrouded by his familiar, woodsy scent. After relieving herself, she took a look in the mirror. Her long, raven hair was in total disarray; tangled, poking up at the side, fly aways having a field day of their own, and waves looking as wild as a cluster of forest vines. Inuyasha was a lucky, lucky man, that was for sure.

She ran her fingers through her hair, wincing when they snagged in ruthless tangles that she had to carefully crawl through so she didn’t risk ripping chunks out of her scalp. At least, that was what it felt like. As skillfully as Kagome could manage, she shook out the stiffness of her waves, hoping it would help them relax a little and flow better. Already, she was looking much more presentable. Until she noticed a dark, circular bruise near the base of her neck.

Leaning forward, Kagome pushed her tresses behind her shoulders to get a better look, finding a few others in similar size. They just weren’t as dark. Quickly inspecting the other side, she noticed one, but it was quite light, broken blood vessels dotting the area just beneath her skin. Truthfully, Kagome couldn’t even blame Inuyasha for getting carried away last night, nor be upset about it. She liked it. Loved it, actually. It was just a little embarrassing, is all. Only a scarf would be able to put these bad boys away, and since she didn’t have one, Kagome was left to flaunt the evidence of their recent love making session. Cool.

Back home, she never really grimaced or got grossed out whenever she saw hickies decorating Miroku’s neck. She didn’t care one way or the other, but it was fun to laugh at him when he came back in the evening with a bright bruise right on top of the thinnest portion of skin near his shoulder, because more often than not, he didn’t even know it was there yet. A hobby she’d found for herself though, was flicking Miroku’s hickies. It was always light, but it was almost like a sport to sneak up on her cousin and flick his neck right on the purple mark while he was eating breakfast or, generally, minding his business. For a while, she was able to get away with merely walking past him and doing it, but once he’d caught on and learned to clap his hand over it in the nick of time, it become something akin to a game for her. And, for the first time, she was incredibly grateful Miroku wasn’t here. She could only imagine the field day he’d have right now.

Inuyasha sighed out, feeling sort of like his brain was rebooting as consciousness flooded back over him. It was as if he could practically hear the shift of the gears as they began to move once more, and life tingled into his veins and muscles, causing his fingers to twitch in response. He was discontented by the way he felt the bedsheets crinkle beneath his hand. Clearly, it wasn’t where it was supposed to be, most likely having moved in his sleep, so Inuyasha blindly reached forward. A deeper sense of dissatisfaction made home in the hanyou’s belly then, patting the empty spot where he felt the lingering warmth of the body that used to be present. Had she rolled away?

With a hazy blink of his drowsy eyes, Inuyasha saw the blurry, empty spot Kagome should have been in. An unsettling sensation trickled into his chest, one he couldn’t fight off in his lethargic state, and he pushed himself up onto his forearm to force his mind to further wake. It was still warm, so she couldn’t have gone far, but did she leave the room? She better not have left the fucking room. He was going to rip her a new one if she did, that idiot. To err on the side of caution, and maybe even administer a little patience, Inuyasha gave a studious inhale of the surrounding smells.

Nope.

False alarm.

She was still there, just in the bathroom.

The hanyou plopped his body back down onto the bed with a heavy exhale of mild relief, rolling over to his back and allowing his muscles to grow heavy again. If he’d just waited another moment before letting his mind overreact, he would have heard the bathroom door open, followed by the soft patting of Kagome’s feet.

He glanced over, arching a lazy brow as he spotted his girl in his oversized shirt, the unwelcome, anxious feeling that had appeared in the fear of her disappearance abruptly washed away by the single, powerful thud his heart just did. Kagome in the morning. Kagome in his clothes in the morning. Kagome in his clothes the morning after making her his.

“Awe, you’re awake.” She muttered, her tone small. It was too early to use her full voice, she felt. “I was trying to be quiet. I’m sorry.”

Inuyasha only managed to shake his head, slumber still wafting over his brain like a thick fog. With a grunt to force his arm to work with him, he reopened the comforter to urge her back into bed, pointing to the spot beside him so there was no mistake as to what he was trying to communicate.

With a giggle, Kagome ambled right over to him, crawling on top of the bedsheets to slide her legs beneath the blanket. Inuyasha rolled back over to his side, his eyes closed once more, and with heavy limbs, he grabbed hold of her, pulling her firm against him as he nuzzled his face into her chest. Well, this was new. A side to Inuyasha she’d yet to be fortunate enough to see until now. He was a big, cuddly baby in the morning. Kagome relaxed down against the pillows, placing a kiss on her hanyou’s head while she played with his hair.

Her fingers found their own way up to his ears, and with a light drag of her finger, she stroked the triangular appendage. So soft. So cute. And, Inuyasha nuzzled closer into her, making her wonder if he could even breath.

Inuyasha could feel the pull of sleep yanking him under again, harder so when she delicately traced his ear. Not a single soul had been allowed to do that before, but god, he discovered he really fucking loved when she did. Add that to her comfortingly sweet scent, and it was like a cocktail for dozing off. Until he heard the deep grumble echo through her stomach.

Oh no.

Amber eyes snapped open, and he hastily pulled himself into a sitting position, accidentally startling the conjurer. “Alright, I’m up. I’m up.”

“Hey, wait.” Kagome whined with a present frown. “Where are you going?”

“Food.” Inuyasha said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he scooted himself out of bed, picking his pants from the floor to shove his legs through.

“What?”

“I never fed you yesterday.” His voice was husky, a rumble hanging in the depths of it from fatigue and it sent a few butterflies fluttering through Kagome’s belly.

“But, I didn’t say anything.” Kagome objected, propping her head up with the heel of her palm as her elbow planted into the mattress.

“Which means, you’re passed the point of hunger. I know the warning signs. I’m short on time until you get hangry, and I am not dealing with hangry Kagome today.” Inuyasha chuckled as his body woke up some more. “Your stomach just growled and you didn’t even notice, babe. That’s dangerous. You may feel fine at the moment, but I’ve been with you twenty-four-seven for quite a while now. I know that it’s like a switch with you. Soon, you’ll get all tired like all the energy is drained out of nowhere, and then boom. Evil.”

Her jaw dropped in incredulity but tipped in a humored smile at the same time. “Excuse me, I am not evil.”

“Kid, you gave me the silent treatment for twenty minutes one time because I stepped on a stick and made it crack too loud. You only started talking to me again because I bought you a snack when we took a detour through a village.” He deadpanned. Leaving the top of his trousers open, he looked on the floor for his shirt, realizing it should really be washed before he donned it in public again.

Kagome dropped her face into her pillow, laughing. Yeah, she definitely got an attitude when she was hungry. She shouldn’t even be trying to play that off. She was fully aware that her mood did a complete one-eighty when she got to that point, but the moment she took her first bite of food, all irritability dwindled away with her notorious food dance.

She felt Inuyasha’s weight rejoin her on the bed from behind as he leaned over her and placed a lingering kiss to her temple. “Up, please.” He whispered.

“Want me to come with you?” Kagome smiled happily, turning her face as he kissed her cheek next.

“No. I need my shirt back.”

“You have another.” She grumbled, brows furrowing to convey her displeasure at his request.

“It’s filthy.”

“You have another another.”

“You mean, the one I was stabbed in and threw away weeks ago?” Inuyasha laughed again, kissing her pout.

Kagome huffed out a small puff of air as she took his hand to help her sit up, flinching sharply at the way her muscles protested.

“What? What’s wrong?” The hanyou quickly reacted, concerned.

“Sore. Very sore.” Kagome grimaced deeply, trying to sigh out some of the tension.

“What’s it from?” He asked sympathetically, waiting her out as he soothingly pushed some hair behind her ear. “Last night? Was it me?”

She shook her head, a calming smile finally replacing her discomfited frown. “I think from the whole river debacle. Small body, heavy current, big ouch.”

“Where’s it hurt?” He chuckled from her light humor, letting his shoulders drop.

For a moment, Kagome pondered her answer, pursing her lips. In a large gesture to her entire frame, she said. “Right here.”

Inuyasha’s laughter grew heavier. “Even more reason for you to stay in bed. Lift your arms.” He instructed, curling his fingers below the hem and slowly pulling the garment over her head.

Her cheeks had flushed mildly, and Kagome pulled the blanket up to cover her naked chest. His vision of her was only obscured for a moment while he put the shirt on his torso, pushing the end into his pants before buckling his belt.

“You’ll get this back when I return. Until then, I want you waiting for me just like this.” He said with a gruff tone, warm eyes drifting down to the curves not entirely hidden from his view.

In an attempt to fend off her heating blush, Kagome puckered her lips for a kiss before he left, an upset pout forming when he shook his head and shifted to walk away.

“No, because you’re going to pull me down for more than one, you greedy bastard. And then, next thing you know, grumpy Kagome will be here.”

“But, I want a kiss.” She tried arguing.

“I’ll be right back.”

“Kiss me.”

He chuckled dismissively, heading for the door.

“Kiss me!” Kagome demanded playfully.

“Shut up.”

She whined loudly, the cry transitioning into something short of a dramatic groan. “I need a kiss!” Kagome dropped herself onto the bed with a heavy thump, still pinning the blanket to herself. “I need a kiss or else I’ll die!”

Inuyasha stopped as he opened the door, his jaw dropping in shocked amusement while he leaned against the doorframe to watch.

“I’m gonna die! I’m dying! I can feel it! There’s the light!” Kagome extended her arm toward the ceiling to reach for the empty space. “Goodbye, cruel world! If only a kiss could save me from this doom!”

She heard the door click shut, and with a sudden sink of disappointment, Kagome perked her head up with a sad squeak to see if he’d left. Her smile swiftly reappeared as she noticed Inuyasha standing in the doorway, feigned annoyance written all over his grin as he licked his canine tooth.

“It is way too early -“ He began at a leisurely stride, but quickly shifted to rush at her and pounce on the bed. “- for your bullshit!”

Kagome gave a high-pitched giggle, ducking down so their heads didn’t collide as he jumped on top. He was mid-crawl to properly position himself over her when he pressed a hungry kiss to her lips, silencing her laughter quickly as he gave her exactly what she wanted.

“There. Are you gonna make it now?” Inuyasha chuckled, hovering just above where their noses barely touched. He watched her eyes bounce up as she went to think, wrinkling her nose adorably. “I know, I know. One more.” The hanyou beat her to it, rolling his eyes and kissing her smile away.

—

He was only gone for twenty minutes at the most, but as Inuyasha entered through the door of the inn room they occupied, he was glad he’d chosen to keep quiet. At some point in his absence, Kagome had fallen back to sleep. The comforter was pulled up to her mouth while she’d curled up on her side, her top arm poking free, and her hand weakly holding the blanket. The girl wasn’t even on a pillow, too exhausted to care about basic comfort, and Inuyasha grinned softly.

He placed the food he bought on the table in the corner, sauntering her way and gently sitting on the edge of the bed. Kagome didn’t seem to notice, lost in her dream, and for a moment Inuyasha allowed himself to simply watch the expansion of her exposed ribcage while she breathed deeply. If he didn’t know for a fact that the conjurer needed to eat, he’d have opted to let her remain like this. She clearly needed that too, but he’d just coax her back to sleep afterward. Knowing her, all he’d have to do was play with her hair for five minutes and she’d be out like a light.

Lightly, Inuyasha grazed the backs of his fingers over Kagome’s cheek, pushing hair from her face in the process. He repeated the motion a few times, barely getting a response from her, so he leaned down and kissed her side. Gradually applying pressure, the hanyou slowly rubbed her arm until those dark brown eyes blinked open.

Kagome seemed confused, registering where she was with a tiny furrow of her brow, and when she slid her hands into view, Inuyasha glided his own up to grab one.

“They’re clean.” He tenderly assured, hoping his voice would help bring her back to the present. Her fingers curled around his, and for a second, she closed her eyes again, sighing out.

“Hey, baby.” He greeted in a whisper as she turned her head to look up at him, granting him a lazy smile and half of a wave. “I brought you some food. Come on, you need to eat something.”

Silently, Kagome went to push herself up, struggling slightly, so Inuyasha aided by grabbing her arm and leveraging her to sit, rubbing her back when she hissed from her body’s soreness.

“Here.” The hanyou offered, pulling his shirt from his torso and handing it over to her so she wouldn’t feel obligated to struggle with keeping the blanket over her chest the whole time. Her movements were sluggish and sloppy as she thanked him with a little hum and slid the garment over her head. Her arms slipped through the baggy sleeves, and she let the rest fall down her sides, pulling the length of her hair free from the collar.

In front of her lap, he began to sort out the items he’d purchased; bread, fruit, some treats from a shop in town that specialized in chocolate, and warm pastries that were fresh from the oven.

“Wow. I could get used to service like this.” She said, suggestive eyes wandering down his naked chest.

The hanyou arched a brow, though his smile only grew. His voice was husky as he commented, “Pervert.”

Unsurprisingly, his girl reached for one of the warm pastries, tearing off a piece to nibble lethargically while Inuyasha crossed the room at the foot of the bed to crawl back in with her.

“What time do we have to leave?” She asked.

“Tomorrow. Maybe the day after.” He replied. “Koga’s right, we should lay low. Plus, you’re hurting and I don’t even remember the last time I was this tired. All I know is, we aren’t going anywhere today.”

“Thank god.” Kagome threw her head back in an appreciative groan. “Your human night, isn’t that coming up.”

“Soon. We’ve got a few days.”

“So, that means we’re…”

“Yeah.” Inuyasha confirmed, knowing where she was going with the incomplete question.

“Oh.” She sighed, her head slightly drooping.

“You don’t need to think about it yet, kid. I want you to relax for now.” Inuyasha kissed her shoulder comfortingly.

“Easier said than done. I’m never not thinking about it.” Kagome admitted. “But, this isn’t about me. I’m worried about -“ She paused, thinking of the proper way to phrase it, but gave up with a feeble emphatic. “That.”

“I get it.” He nodded, reaching for a pastry of his own. “I still don’t want you rehearsing the conversation in your mind at the moment. Don’t plan out the scene just yet, we’ve got a while. Try to keep your brain occupied for now.”

Inuyasha was right. Kagome was only going to end up dragging herself under if she obsessed over having to break the news to Kaede. The details could wait, and though they’d already begun to sort themselves out in her head - what she was going to tell Kaede and what she’d exclude - Kagome exhaled a deep breath to try and tear herself away from that mode. Not right now. For the moment, even if she had to force it upon herself, Kagome was going to rest.

It wasn’t long after they’d filled their stomachs that Kagome cleared off the bed and was snagged by strong arms to cuddle back into Inuyasha. He was on his back, his head on the pillows, long, free hair splaying out beneath him while she laid between his legs, trailing her fingers over the soft ridges of his abdomen. The scar Moryomaru had left him still had a little color to it and Kagome tickled the thick skin with a light graze of her nail, feeling her boyfriend tense a little.

She didn’t know what to acquaint this feeling with, but when Inuyasha sighed out, his stomach deflating slightly, eyelashes fluttering shut, and his claws very gently playing along her scalp, Kagome felt scared to ever have to let him go. To let this contentment go. There was no danger around them, no threat that told her she may or may not lose him, and nothing in her brain was sparking into fight or flight. There was no irrationality present in her fear. It was more that, Kagome didn’t know what the future held. If they survived this battle, if they succeeded in taking down Naraku, what was their next move? They were going to stay together, right?

But, Inuyasha was a wanderer. He went where the money took him, he’d once said. What if he was happy doing that, and it was what he wanted to go back to? Kagome needed to go back home when this was all said and done. Maybe not forever, but she needed to reassure her family that she was alright and Naraku was no more. And, after that, she felt she’d deserve a breather, and depending on the state of her town, would maybe help everyone come together in a way they never had before. Maybe she and Inuyasha would visit each other every once in a while? It would be unfair to expect him to drop his life and come live with her in her rustic village that didn’t even have entire paths made out of cobblestone. In the same regard, she couldn’t make the commitment of immediately packing up and heading out with him, either. Kagome wanted to see her mom again, her brother, her cousin, her best friend. She wanted to visit her papa’s grave and tell him what she’d accomplished, imagine his proud smile and fatherly pat on the top of her head while she bowed before his headstone.

“Can I ask you a question?” Kagome began. If it was weighing on her mind this heavily, maybe it was something she should plant in his so that Inuyasha had some time to consider his answer, too. It wasn’t like she needed to know right now. She just wanted to know what he thought, and maybe eventually work to being on the same page about their potential future. When the hanyou gave a grunt in response for her to carry on, she did just that. “When we beat Naraku, what’s gonna happen to us?”

With her palms placed on his stomach, and her chin propped on the backs of her hands, she was able to watch his brows furrow deep enough for lines between to appear, his eyes opening as he glanced down at her. “Huh?”

“What’s gonna happen to us?” Kagome repeated.

“In what manner? Are you worried about what might happen to us in the battle? Because -“

“No, no, no. That’s not what I meant.” She shook her head, feeling some of the stiffness in his muscles decrease. “I was talking about you and I. Together.”

“Oh,” Inuyasha shut his eyes again, relaxing the exact way he had been.

He didn’t seem bothered in the least anymore, and while it was comforting to Kagome, it was also confusing.

“Remember what I said, kid? I go where you go.”

“Wait,” She sort of picked herself up a little. “You didn’t just mean that in this scenario?”

“What scenario?”

“Involving Naraku?”

“It was a general statement.”

“What do you mean, a general statement?” Kagome sat up to her knees, bringing Inuyasha to peel an eye open in annoyance at her missing body heat.

“To cover all scenarios.” He replied.

The information was processing to Kagome and she chewed on her bottom lip, running her fingers over his thighs.

With a curious smirk, Inuyasha rose to his elbows. “Why does it seem like this is just now catching up to you? I said it a while ago.”

“Well, because we were talking about whether or not to team up with people, and the whole Koga argument, so I correlated your statement to that.”

“Okay,” He bobbed his head and shrugged, completely understanding the disconnect there. “Well, just so you know, I meant it for, like, everything. More so now than ever.”

“But, you have your own life.” Kagome reasoned, wanting to make sure he’d really thought about this enough.

“I can still have my own life, Kagome.” Inuyasha chuckled. “Just because I want to be with you doesn’t mean I’m selling my soul. I mean, I haven’t had a huge opportunity to really think about the details, but I imagine I’ll still run jobs, make money, but ultimately, come back to be near you in some way, shape, or form. Maybe even eventually live with you. If you want that. Do you want that? What’s on your mind, kid?”

His expression had twisted into one of uncertainty, and Kagome was afraid she’d made him doubt himself, so she urgently jumped to explain to try and comfort him. “Well, yes of course I want that. I just wasn’t sure what you had planned to do, is all. I didn’t want to make an assumption, because you know what they say, I’d only make an ass out of u and me.” She giggled nervously, repeating her father’s wise words to her. “But, I also wanted to respect the life you had before I so rudely jumped into the picture and uprooted it. I mean, I know I said, ‘where you go, I go’, too, and I really did mean it similarly to the way you did, but I also kind of wanted to see my family again before I did anything else. It would be stupid to expect you to come back with me if you didn’t want to, and I totally understand if you don’t. Just know the invitation is always there. My mother would love you. But, like, overall, I just really wanted to see if you still wanted to stay with me after the battle. Like, be with me. Just like we are now. I didn’t know if we’d plan visits, or sometimes you come with me and sometimes I go with you, or if I should even be thinking about this right now, or - oh no. I’m rambling, aren’t I?” Her face fell, the hands she’d been bouncing back and forth to convey one scenario to the next dropping back down to his legs.

“Did you get it all out of your system?” Inuyasha asked, pinching his lips to try and hide his amusement.

“… Or if I’m being stupid.” Kagome finished in a low tone of humiliation, eyes falling as she pursed her lips. “There. I’m done.”

“You’re not being stupid.” He chuckled, sitting all the way up. “It’s perfectly reasonable to be curious. But, why would you think we’d break up just because Naraku’s dead?”

“I don’t know.” She half shrugged, eyes still sunken. “We want different things?”

“Okay, now you’re being stupid.” Inuyasha was laughing at the grumpy pout forming on her shy expression, but also out of horrible disbelief. “I threw a fit yesterday thinking I’d lost you, or did you miraculously forget about that?”

“Yeah, but -“

“So, how and why would you think I’d be okay just letting you walk away for any reason?”

Kagome didn’t answer that one, but her expression said it all. Her eyes twitched up to him then blinked off to the side, and her body gave a subtle fidget while her teeth worried her bottom lip. That wasn’t quite what she’d been thinking.

“Ah.” Inuyasha bobbed his head, holding no malice whatsoever in his tone. “You’re scared that I’d be the one to walk away. Do you know how much worse that makes this?”

“I know.” Kagome shrugged lightly.

“How does that even make sense? Are you serious, babe?”

“Well, I know I wouldn’t be the one to make that choice, but I don’t know what’d be on your mind if we weren’t able to meet halfway.”

For the second time that morning, Inuyasha deadpanned. He’d literally broken down less than twelve hours ago at the realization that he could have lost Kagome for good. Wrapping his head around her thought process right now was nearly impossible. He could grasp wanting to know where they were going, but how could she possibly worry about separation after everything they’d been through?

“Why are you being so insecure right now?”

“I don’t know.” Kagome groaned, dropping her head in her hands for a moment. Her embarrassment was only growing worse by the second. She’d never meant to come off so needy or unsure. Taking a deep breath, she peeked through her fingers at the frowning hanyou, ultimately dropping her palms to her thighs to clear the air. “Okay, so the thought occurred about what would happen to us in the future, but it really wasn’t backed up by any sort of emotion like this. I was honestly just wondering. I don’t want to lose you, but I also don’t want you to feel obligated to drop your entire life for me. So, I thought bringing it up would help prevent that, but then I rambled and threw myself off course. I didn’t mean to.”

“I’m used to it. It’s cute.” Inuyasha shrugged, sighing out in preparation of his response. “Alright, dummy, listen closely while I break this down. Since you just brought it up, I’ll start with this: you didn’t uproot my life. My life never had fucking roots. Not since I was a kid, and even that was flimsy after my dad died. It’s not like you coerced me into killing Naraku with you, because that was one of my plans all along. So, get that idea out of your head. Immediately.”

“Wait, but -“

“I’m not done.”

“No, this is related. I’m not trying to argue, but don’t you have a home somewhere? I sort of feel like the moment I entered the picture, you had to drop everything.”

A small upturn pulled at the corners of Inuyasha’s lips. “I will admit, the second you appeared, the ball certainly got moving a lot faster, that’s for sure.”

“See!”

“But, it really didn’t make a difference. Aside from me picking up jobs less. That’s fine, though. I’ve mentioned before I’m well off.”

“And, your home?”

“Ah, yes. That. I’ve definitely got one of those. A cat, too.”

Instantly, he felt awful for being facetious. The conjurer’s eyes widened so dramatically, and her jaw dropped in horrible dismay.

“A cat!? You have a cat!? Has the cat even been fed!? Is your cat dead because of me!? Oh no!” She almost collapsed backward in her fit before Inuyasha scrambled to catch her, snickering. “Oh no!”

“Baby, baby, baby, baby, please!” The hanyou pulled her face into his hands, his heart aching when he saw tears brimming in her eyes and her bottom lip jutted out sadly. Bad time to use sarcasm, he should’ve known better than that. “I lied! I was kidding! I thought you knew since I frequent Kaede’s! I don’t have a home, and no cats have been harmed by your sudden appearance in my life. I promise.”

“No cat?” Kagome repeated, her voice so small and sad but on the edge of hopeful.

“No cat.” Inuyasha confirmed.

“Are you sure?”

He hesitated on that one, because the poor girl was such a mess that the question didn’t even make sense. “I’m - I’m positive.” Inuyasha chuckled.

“You don’t have a home?” Kagome’s doe eyes seemingly grew larger in a sympathetic manner.

“Not in the way you’re thinking. Not like what you’ve got, no. I’ve never really cared about that sort of thing. So long as I had a place to put myself away during my human night, I was fine, and even if I found myself far away from Kaede’s for some reason, I still managed. It wasn’t important to me, Kagome.” He explained, sitting back against the pillows. “My father died when I was eight or nine, and my mother died when I was fourteen. Didn’t have extended family, so my options were to sit around and sulk while wishing for what I couldn’t have, or get my ass up and go. I kept myself busy, taught myself trades, got through the bullshit, and never really cared about too much more than that. So, wipe that look off your face. This isn’t some sob story, and you know it.”

Inuyasha reached for Kagome’s chin to give it a soft rub with his thumb as she acknowledged his statement with a smile.

“As for my life before you, I don’t have much of an attachment to it. Hence the no roots thing. I never had big plans saved for after killing Naraku, so seeing about eventually planning something out with you is -“ Inuyasha paused as he briefly stole a glimpse at their future years from now; walking through the door to be greeted by her smile, comforting her when she was upset, chasing her around the room when she was in one of her playfully annoying moods, making love to her in front of the fireplace, staying up late just for a quiet moment of peace with each other. He smiled, pinching his lips together to subdue the dreamlike visual that he wanted to keep just for himself for the moment. “- Something to look forward to.”

He watched as she grew slightly bashful, but her eyes glimmered with the warmth he currently felt. Kagome bit the side of her plush lip, rubbing her hands over the pants dressing his thighs, the heat of her palms sinking through.

“What do you say?” Inuyasha carried on, his tone dying to a gruff and desirable whisper. “Does that sound good? You want to eventually make plans with me, Kagome?”

She answered with a steady nod, her happiness unhidden through the flush she wore. This had to be the luckiest Inuyasha has ever felt in his life. In the most inopportune moment, under the darkness of waring smoke, he found a romance to help encourage him to see through to the end of it. He found empowerment that somehow made him stronger than when he’d began. Kagome’s presence was a boost to his prowess, and her hand in his was motivation to stop the world from turning into a monster. And, when his heart was pounding from overstimulation, when his mind was in overdrive with no sign of a comedown, this person he got to call his, stronger than him in every way, only needed to brush his cheek with the most tender of touches and Inuyasha would once more be at peace.

How lucky.

How stupidly lucky.

So lucky, in fact, that Inuyasha was convinced not a soul on Earth could ever possibly understand this feeling that currently swam in his chest. Light, and warm, and serene, while also slightly terrifying.

The hanyou leaned forward in his seat, curving his fingers around the side of Kagome’s neck so that he could kiss her. The smile she pushed into the kiss tasted sweet. Better than the chocolate he was thankful he’d surprised her with earlier.

With a slight adjustment of his bottom, Inuyasha went to lay down again, pulling Kagome back on top of him. She moved slow, accidentally pressing her bruise against his hip and flinching, but recovering as smoothly as she could. Just as she cuddled down against his abdomen, the hanyou set to work at massaging her scalp. Gradually, he felt her growing heavier, her lashes tickling his stomach when her eyes fluttered closed.

This. This was what he wasn’t willing to let go of. It wasn’t just Kagome. Kagome, as an individual, was the embodiment of hope and he loved her so dearly. But, they’d created a bond with one another. Sure, he’d learned to trust a few people over the years. It’s just never happened on this level. He’d almost thought it was too quick as well, but Kagome and he were pushed into a situation where they literally spent endless days with one another. It was survival instincts at play, and fate that orchestrated it. They had to trust each other in order to work well together, but somewhere along the way, a pin on the map that Inuyasha wouldn’t even be able to mark, it stopped being superficial. Their hiccups almost seemingly aided in their progress, and before he knew it, he cherished Kagome for everything she had to offer. Their bond was deep. They could laugh with each other even through sensitive moments, they could rely on each other no matter what was going on, and to see the beauty in that was what Inuyasha would fight tooth and nail for.

—

Four days later, Kagome was standing on a distant hill, looking down at the town she’d visited twice before. They had to be careful traveling here this time around. Her body still wasn’t completely recovered, and her quiver was so empty that the single, surviving arrow knocked around whenever she jumped, bounced, or jogged. It wasn’t a good time to run into trouble or pick a fight with demons, given the responsibility of their success would primarily fall on Inuyasha’s shoulders, so they treaded cautiously and kept vigilant.

The sky was adorned in patches of clouds that shadowed parts of the village as they drifted with the breeze, carrying a little chill that Kagome hadn’t expected for late afternoon. The ambience was fitting. Both she and Inuyasha were just standing there, feeling impossibly heavy with the burden they shared.

Steadily, she slipped her hand into Inuyasha’s empty palm, entwining their fingers. As he fastened his grip, Kagome lifted the back of his knuckles to her lips to place a gentle kiss of solace. Unfortunately for her, she didn’t know Kaede well enough to guess how well she may or may not take this information. Inuyasha, on the other hand, was close friends with the innkeeper. His silence was enough for her to comprehend that this wasn’t going to be easy.

With a tender squeeze, Inuyasha sighed out and led the way down the path and through the cobblestoned streets, their boots making a mild clap on the rock with their strides. The market area they passed was still alight with people, and conversation seemed, for the most part, joyous and friendly. When the inn came into view, a thick, murky feeling began to settle in Kagome’s abdomen. She was anxious. Even Inuyasha’s muscles were stiffening, the swing of his arm growing less fluid. He hadn’t said a word in hours, nor she. But, surprisingly, his bravery never slowed him down. So, Kagome kept up right next to him.

He opened the door for her, and they sauntered toward the reception desk with a clear view of the nearly-empty tavern of the inn. There were a couple men working their way through a large glass of beer, minding their business in their stools, but otherwise it was surprisingly quiet in the bar considering how lively it was the last time Kagome had been here.

Just a small moment later, Kaede made her way around the distant corner, her lips tilting upward in welcome. “Hi!” Then her sight fell down to their held hands. “Hi.”

“Don’t start, Kae.” Inuyasha rolled his eyes, his voice gruff.

The innkeeper didn’t even try to put away her suggestive expression, leaning against the corner of the countertop. “So, I take it you wont be requesting separate rooms this time around?”

“Goddammit.” He groaned, lolling his head back just as Kagome tucked herself behind his arm to hide her embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, but do you know how much money I just won?”

“You placed bets!?”

“You expected me not to?” Kaede shrugged innocently. “Oh, please. You’ve been soft for Kagome here since the first moment I saw you two together, and that was after you tried to kidnap her and sell her off. It was only a matter of time until one of you made a move.”

The couple stiffened, their expressions matching as their lips pressed into flat lines. With a tilt of observation, Kagome turned to Inuyasha and he felt his anxiety spike, cautiously glancing down at her from the side.

“Oh, yeah. You did try to do that.” She dully mentioned.

Quickly, he shot Kaede a warning glare, and the innkeeper slapped a hand over her mouth in weary apology.

“No, I didn’t try to sell you, kid.” Inuyasha insisted. “It was a fleeting thought, is all.”

“Right. Because, if there was a bounty on my head, you weren’t gonna give me up.”

“I let you go a few hours later! I protected you!” He defended.

“Because, you were soft for me?” She asked flatly, the very subtle hint of a smile pushing at her lips.

With a sigh of defeat, Inuyasha lolled his head again. “That what you want to hear?”

“Mhm.”

“Then, yes. I was soft for you.”

“Thank you, I feel better now.”

Kaede giggled lightly, bringing out her guest book. As per usual, she’d already reserved a room for Inuyasha, and she checked to make sure she had their room number right in her head. The two seemed a little out of sorts today, maybe exhausted from their journey. Although they contributed to playful banter, it wasn’t as spirited as it could have been. It wasn’t the typical Inuyasha and Kagome fashion that she’d witnessed before when they’d eaten in the tavern, so it seemed best to stop picking on them while she was still ahead and get them up in their room so they could rest.

Giving Kagome’s hand a firm squeeze, Inuyasha communicated that she needed to prepare. He was going to initiate the topic, and with a clear of his throat, he leaned in a little closer.

“Hey, you got a moment? We need to talk.”

Kaede’s brown eye bounced up to him to see his hard look, amber eyes glowing with a concern she’d rarely ever seen. Then, she glanced over to Kagome, noticing she was having a difficult time holding eye contact at all, her darker irises remaining downward. Looking back up to Inuyasha, she said, “Uh-oh. What happened?”

“In private, preferably.” Inuyasha added.

He wasn’t using any of the codes she’d long established at her business, so she knew it wasn’t urgent in a detrimental manner. But, given his tone and both of their body languages, Kaede understood that it had to be urgent in another.

“Now?”

“Yes.”

“But, isn’t it almost time for -“

“No, that’s not until the sun sets.” Inuyasha admitted. “We’ve got a few hours.”

Something wasn’t sitting right in her stomach. Why was she worried? Why was she suddenly apprehensive to hear what was riddling them right now? “Should I have alcohol for this? Because, you’re scaring me.”

“You might want it.”

“Alright,” Kaede exhaled stiffly. “One second.”

It was only a minute later that Kaede came back, the handles of two cups efficiently supported with the fingers of one hand, a third in the other, and the loop of their bedroom key hooked around her pinky. With a demand that she wasn’t drinking alone, given how stressed the two obviously looked, she slid two of the ales toward the couple and then guided them into the hall, up two flights of stairs, and to their room.

“Before you say anything, Kagome, are you hurt?” Kaede began, locking the door behind her.

“Uh,” The conjurer paused unsuspectingly. “No.”

“You’ve got a little limp.”

“Oh, no.” Kagome quickly brushed off to reassure her. “I’m just a bit sore is all. I fell down and got a wicked bruise on my side, but it’s nothing to worry about. It’s way better than before.”

“And, Inuyasha? What’s your excuse?” Kaede pinned him with a stare.

“We’ve been through hell, Kae.” He confessed, sitting on the edge of the mattress as he took a healthy gulp of his beverage. “Kagome’s right, you should have seen us a few days ago. And, I’ve got a feeling we haven’t even seen the worst of it.”

“Shit.” She all but hissed in sympathy. “What the hell happened?”

“We ran into Naraku. His puppet, actually, but a form of Naraku.”

Kaede’s expression widened, her mouth hanging slightly agape. “No way.”

“Yeah. Fucked us up. That’s not exactly what we’re here to talk about, though.” Inuyasha said.

Stiffening further, which brought her to stand a little straighter, Kaede nodded in acknowledgement. Both Inuyasha and Kagome looked remorseful. It wasn’t exactly the emotion she’d expect from two people who’d just faced a version of the world’s enemy, but nevertheless, if they were here to ask for her help in some manner, which had to relate to her abilities with enchantments and made the most sense, she was more than willing to see what she could do.

“Okay, what do you need from me?”

There was a bout of hesitation as the hanyou licked his lips and glanced up at Kagome, watching as she put her untouched drink down. She didn’t even want it right now.

“We need you to sit down and listen.” He answered.

Suddenly, Kaede felt like she was put on the defense. What was wrong? A huge part of her wanted to play obstinate and continue standing until Inuyasha dropped the act and just told her what was up, but considering the look in his eyes right now, she felt it would be better of her to just comply. So, she took the cushioned seat in the near corner of the room. This had to be serious.

How did he even begin? How do you touch on a subject like this? The one time they’d spoken about her deceased sister, Kaede couldn’t even utter her name. It was like it was stuck on her tongue, a name that wouldn’t roll off smoothly, alternatively creating more pain if she’d chosen to force it. He’d heard the vague retelling of her version of the story but had been holding onto the side she’d never been able to know before. But, it was reopening that wound that was troubling for him.

“Kaede, your sister,” Inuyasha begrudgingly started, setting his own drink down beside Kagome’s. Immediately, he watched Kaede perk uncomfortably, bringing her ale to her lips and holding a finger out in pause while she took a few gulps in preparation. As she lowered the glass, he could tell that she was incredibly perplexed, but as ready as she’d ever be. “Her name was Kikyo, wasn’t it?”

Nope, she was wrong. She wasn’t ready. It had been a long time since she’d heard her sister’s name spoken, and it sent a twitch down her spine. “How did you know that?”

Kagome received her cue from the side glance Inuyasha bounced off of her, so she inhaled as steadily as she could. “Kikyo was my friend.”

“Okay, look, I’m sorry but if you’re just here to talk about some friendly, childhood memories you had with Kikyo, I can’t hear it.” Kaede went to stand, unable to meet their eyes, and slightly red in the face from evolving agitation. “I’m sure you mean well, sweetie, but this conversation is not on the table.”

“She said she loves you.” Kagome spoke quickly so she could catch Kaede before she began to walk away, a lump growing in her throat from the cold flash of the recent conjurer in her arms. “And, she’ll meet you under the willow tree.”

Kaede halted, her shoulders tensing from the familiarity of that statement. There was a moment of silence. A moment of silence that the innkeeper hated. “Explain.” She said, her tone on the direct side. “Now.”

“Kikyo didn’t die when you think she did.” Kagome said, uncomfortable from the stare she was receiving from Kaede, and she was about to continue but was cut off by the innkeeper’s quick response.

“If you know anything about that, then you know she was eaten alive. Right in front of me.” Her voice came off a littler harsher than intended.

“Right. Y-yes.” Kagome stammered slightly.

“It was faked, Kaede.” Inuyasha added assertively, only to keep up with his hot-headed friend’s nature. “Kikyo faked her death.”

“What!?” The innkeeper hissed incredulously, planting her cup heavily on the side table beside the chair. “How can you possibly fake something like that? Where are you getting this information from?”

“Kikyo, herself.”

“This is a joke. A cruel joke. I don’t know who’s behind it, but it’s fucked up, and it’s fucked up of you guys to bring it to me.”

“Kaede, sit down.” Inuyasha said.

“No. I’m not doing this.”

“Kaede, sit your ass down!” He demanded that time, his tone hard and gruff. “You may not know Kagome very well, but you do know me. Am I one for practical jokes? Am I one to unprecedentedly rub shit like this in peoples’ noses? You think this sounded like a fun conversation that we were looking forward to having?”

“My sister is dead, Inuyasha.” Kaede stated sternly, as if he needed the reminder. “There was a demon attack on my village and she was killed. You know this.”

“Yes, and up until meeting Kikyo myself, I believed that. She explained a different story, though.”

It seemed his words had gotten through to her a little. He could see them sinking in as her shoulders gradually dropped and the center of her lips parted in befuddlement. “You - you met her, too?”

“Yes.”

“What does she look like?”

“You.” He answered. “Her hair’s a bit darker - on the black side - brown eyes, pale, thin.”

Kaede sort of wriggled her arms. Almost like she was fighting a nervous fidget. Reluctantly, she sat back down in her seat, looking back over at them to carry on.

“Take another drink. You’re going to hate the rest of what we’ve got to say.”

“Ah, shit.” She grumbled, grabbing the handle of her cup with more aggression than necessary and gulping down the rest of what she had. “Alright, go.”

“When you were a kid and Kikyo was still around, she was actually in a relationship with Naraku.” He couldn’t ignore her blooming grimace of skepticism. This was, no doubt, outrageous to her, and he couldn’t lie and say he hadn’t suspected this sort of reaction. “I know. Just bear with me, Kae. For the benefit of your safety, I’m not going to tell you much about him. Do not ask. We wont tell you anything more than what you need to know, so don’t bother.” Inuyasha felt it was important to preface the major part of their conversation with that. Kaede shouldn’t know that Naraku was a human when this all began and now sat as a half demon. It would put her at risk if she ever decided to pass the word along to others. Additionally, he didn’t even really want her knowing what he looked like. He never wanted her sister’s murderer to taint her mind as he had Kikyo’s, or his, or Kagome’s.

He continued. “Long story short, he tried corrupting your sister. She’d revealed what she was to Naraku, so he’d assigned her to learn magic from a dark conjurer. Essentially, he wanted to drag Kikyo along with his plot, thinking a demon and a conjurer together would be unstoppable. She rebelled, killed the dark conjurer, and that was the beginning of their real feud.

“She’d never introduced you to each other for a reason. I’m sure you didn’t even know she was seeing someone. Kikyo was trapped in that relationship, and leaving him was a sentence on its own. She had no choice but to make the decisions she’d made. The demon attack on your village, Kaede, that was Naraku trying to take everything from her. Your eye, that was Kikyo. She took it to show Naraku, to make him think you’d died so he would never go looking for you again. Her death was something she’d produced with the dark conjurings she’d learned. It was fake.”

Kaede justifiably appeared stunned. It was a lot to process, he knew, but they weren’t done yet, and his stomach sank further.

“I met Kikyo a year ago.” Kagome said, joining back in. “When I’d first met you, I thought you two looked alike, but you said your sister was dead, and Kikyo and I had never really had much of a meaningful conversation before that, so I felt it wasn’t my place to bring anything up - especially being as unsure as I was. She’d taken the liberty of confirming it herself, but it was after the last time we’d seen you. Kikyo and I were sort of trying to work together in this fight against Naraku. Considering their past relationship, she couldn’t be the hand that struck, but it’s a conjurer’s place in this war to take him down. That’s why I’m involved. Unfortunately,” That was where she’d hesitated, finding it hard to put the words together. She was stuttering with her increasing nerves, trying so hard not to fidget with her sleeves too much. “You see, she’d made herself sick. Like I had that first time around. Except, hers was worse. From the moment she disappeared from your life up until just recently, she’d been fighting. Kikyo had been giving more than what she could to a battle that just wouldn’t end. It got to a point where she couldn’t keep up anymore. Last week,” Kagome took a deep breath, curling her fingers into steady fists. “Last week, she died.”

Kaede’s hand had sort of balled in front of her mouth, an elbow braced on the arm of the chair as she listened intently. After a moment, she finally spoke, and some emotion she’d attempted to swallow remained evident. “Was it him? Did he kill her?”

“Indirectly, but yes.” Inuyasha admitted, though it tasted sour on his tongue to confirm. “He’d ordered someone to do it for him.”

“But, he basically got the satisfaction of winning.” Kaede nodded bitterly.

“No, please don’t say that.” Kagome objected. “In the end, Kikyo was liberated. If he truly wanted to win something, he would have kept torturing her by keeping her teetering on the edge, but she didn’t have to fight anymore. She was happy.”

“You - you were there?” She asked melancholically, licking her anxiously dry lips.

Thickly, the conjurer confessed. “Yeah. I got there too late, though. I couldn’t save her. I’m so sorry.” Kagome trembled, but she tried shoving her feelings aside. The last thing Kaede needed was her guilt on top of this information.

Kaede’s eye fell, replying with a very slow and steady nod, one that Kagome would have missed if she weren’t paying close attention to her body language.

“Wow,” The innkeeper breathed. “This is the truth, huh? Lost my sister, got her back for a second, then lost her again. I’ve gotta admit, it’s almost surreal. How did she go?”

Both Kagome and Inuyasha recoiled into themselves slightly, neither able to immediately give her the answer she was looking for. Kagome bit the inside of her lip and Inuyasha’s gaze fell to the bedding he sat on, both obviously struggling with what the right thing to do was; protect her or give her honesty.

“Come on. When I was fifteen, I saw her eaten by a demon. I can handle this.” Kaede tried reasoning.

Kagome looked over to Inuyasha to make sure it was really alright. She should just take Kaede’s word for it, and didn’t want to offend her by asking someone else for permission, but she worried Kaede was being slightly irrational. Much like Kikyo, it seemed Kaede didn’t show deeper emotions to others. That didn’t mean she wasn’t feeling anything that they just couldn’t see. The hanyou gave a nod to go ahead, so Kagome reluctantly turned back to the innkeeper with the event on her tongue.

“Kikyo was dealt a very deep wound to her chest and shoulder area. She bled out from it.”

“Oh.” Kaede’s voice was small, and she failed to meet either of their eye contact. Instead, she was staring at the wood beneath their feet, a frown she tried fighting playing with her lips.

“I want to reiterate that Kikyo was happy when she died, Kaede.” Kagome continued. “I know it’s hard to believe, but she really did feel relieved that she didn’t have to fight anymore. And, she’d said it herself: Naraku didn’t win. She was merely set free. I held her so she wasn’t alone, and talked to her the whole time. I told her about you. She’s really proud of who you are and what you’ve accomplished. And, I’d promised her that I would pass on her message.”

“That she’ll meet me under the willow tree.” Kaede quietly echoed.

“Yeah.” Kagome could only whisper.

Kaede pinched back a listless grin, taking her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment. “How long ago did you meet Kikyo, Inuyasha?”

He was hoping that question wouldn’t come up, though he remained straight forward with his answer. “Immediately after we left the last time. A month ago.”

“I wonder if I would have been the one to have held her as she died if I would have had the privilege of knowing she was still alive.” Inuyasha couldn’t tell if there was venom in her tone. Her expression was almost blank and he couldn’t see her eye to tell what was behind it, but he couldn’t help but feel cautious of the condemnation she may have been throwing their way. “How far away were you when you got all of this information? Could you have turned around?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Inuyasha tried. “Kikyo was adamant about you not finding out in the first place; I was the one that made the decision to tell you no matter what. I refused to agree to her request to keep you out of it. Whether you knew or not, Kikyo was going to make sure you never found her, though. Not until Naraku wasn’t a threat anymore, at least. You knowing she was alive would have only hurt you more, and at this point, I’m glad we never turned around. It would have been worse to give you hope then come back a month later to take it back and say, ‘never mind she’s actually dead now.’”

“I deserved the chance.” She stated more firmly this time.

“I agree. You did.”

“If anyone was going to hold her while she died, it should have been me.”

“I get it. I do. She’s your sister, and you wanted to be there for her. Logically, how would that have worked, though? I wasn’t even with Kagome when it happened. I couldn’t even protect her, I had no idea what was going on, so what makes you think we could have brought either of you together in time? If we had turned around immediately and told you Kikyo was still alive, would you have closed down your business on the spot to travel with us? You don’t know how to fight. Not the way we do. You wouldn’t be able to fend for yourself the way we have to. Not to mention, we had no way of knowing where Kikyo was until it was too late.”

“Don’t bring logic into the picture, Inuyasha.” Kaede huffed, rising to her feet. “I should have known.”

“Again, I get it.”

“No, you don’t!” She stomped. “I just found out a huge portion of my life was a lie! What the hell do you know about that!? Why did she have to fake my death!? Why couldn’t she have just faked her own with that stupid, dark magic!? You want to bring up logic, let’s start there! And, if she was going to die anyway, she shouldn’t have had to seek comfort through another just to hear stories about me! This whole thing is so fucked up!” Kaede yelled, storming past Kagome so fiercely she’d nearly shoved the conjurer out of the way, heading toward the door.

“Kaede!” Inuyasha called, standing to head after her.

“Back off! I’m closing up shop, so leave me the fuck alone for a while!” She demanded, slamming the door behind her.

The room was left with a riddling amount of sliceable tension, making it hard for either of them to breathe. Truthfully, if Kagome was going to expect any sort of reaction, it would have been sorrow. Tears. Not this. She definitely wasn’t equipped for such powerful energy. So much so, that it caused Kagome to grow silent and timid, though given what she’d learned about Kaede, maybe she shouldn’t have been so surprised.

“You okay?” The hanyou asked her as he dropped back down to his seat, bringing Kagome’s attention to nearly snap his way.

“Me? Are you?” She replied earnestly.

“I,” He started, sort of wagging his hand uncertainly. “Don’t know how to feel.”

“I’m sorry. I know you don’t like hurting people you care about.” Kagome’s brows curved in empathy, and she finally shrugged her belongings off of her shoulders and to the floor before crossing the few feet to her hanyou. Gently, she cupped his jaw, caressing her thumbs over his smooth skin. “Call me biased, but I agree that you decided on the right course of action. It would have hurt Kaede so much worse if we’d restored her hope just to tear it away a few weeks later.”

Inuyasha hooked his fingers behind Kagome’s thighs, giving her a soft tug so she’d climb on the bed and straddle his legs. Wrapping his arms behind her back, he pulled his girl close, relishing in the comfort provided as Kagome tied her arms around his neck and rested her chin on his shoulder.

“Just don’t think she blames you, kid.” He said. “Don’t take her reaction personally. That was a lot to take in after pouring salt into an old wound.”

Kagome nodded in agreement. “No, I know. I’m not offended at all. Actually, as horrible as it was, I’m glad it was me that held Kikyo. I know Kaede thinks it was her right, but I can only imagine the emotional and mental damage it would have done to her. Having to watch your sister die once is hard enough. Being covered in her blood after the second time is an entirely different story.”

Inuyasha tightened his hold on Kagome. He knew how much she struggled with the trauma dealt by Kikyo’s passing. Every morning, she still checked her hands. Talking about it wasn’t easy either; he could always hear when her voice hitched a little deeper from the difficulty to get out the words, but she pushed through. Knowing that Kikyo’s death haunts her but she’d still willingly accept that over Kaede having to feel that sort of pain had Inuyasha remembering just how deep her compassion went.

It was hard to concentrate on anything after that. Inuyasha and Kagome laid side-by-side on the bed, silent, basically just staring at the ceiling for hours. The sun had set, it was dark in their room, and there was no way either could even consider trying to sleep at a time like this.

Kagome felt awful. Absolutely horrible. What was Kaede feeling right now? How was she doing? If she had a better relationship with the innkeeper, she’d have followed after her by now, but something told her she should mind her business. Kagome felt like she was probably the last person Kaede wanted to speak to. It wasn’t that she thought Kaede was upset with her, but it was more that she could understand the sore spot present when considering she got to know Kikyo when Kaede, herself, couldn’t. She could imagine how hard that was and how thick that feeling would swim in her chest.

It didn’t even matter that he was in his human form right now. Inuyasha couldn’t fucking stand this. Before he’d transformed, he’d honed in on his senses while he could. Not a soul was downstairs in the tavern. Kaede really did close up, and that caused an icy sensation to crawl over his flesh. She never did that. She was always available to everyone no matter what, but she was so distraught that she locked the doors and shut herself into her own quarters. It was a good thing, he knew that. It was better for her to take care of herself, and she couldn’t properly do that while tending to shitty, drunks. Still, he was growing restless. He was worried. Kaede was alone right now. She certainly wasn’t going to confide in the old man that helped her out; Totosai was indifferent toward everything sentimental. This couldn’t possibly be easy on his friend, and leaving things like this just wasn’t sitting well with him. Especially, given his human heart was in full control right now.

“I’m gonna go check on Kaede.”

“You should go check on Kaede.”

Inuyasha and Kagome spoke at the same time. Swiftly, they turned to each other in shock that they’d been thinking the same thing, and he observed a sweet smile developing on Kagome’s plush lips in the darkness his eyes had long adjusted to.

“I won’t be long.” He promised quietly, grinning himself.

“Please, take your time.”

With a soft kiss to her forehead, Inuyasha sat up, adjusted his messy ponytail of dark hair, aggressively shoved aside his nervousness that someone other than Kagome was going to see him in this state, and pushed himself to his feet. He took the room key with him so that he could make sure Kagome was at least protected behind a locked door, the heels of his boots making a gentle clap on the wooden floor as he wandered downstairs to find Kaede’s quarters. In the very back, he could see firelight creating a warm hue beneath the crack of her door.

His knuckles rasped against the wood, and with intent listening, he could hear a little shuffle within the room. “Kaede, open up. It’s me.”

There was a moment of apprehensive silence then, one that made Inuyasha lean against the doorframe as he practiced patience.

“Do I have to?” He heard, and her voice was on the aggravated side.

“No. You can tell me to go away.” He shrugged. “But, I’ll probably just end up standing here all night.”

With a groan, she abrasively complied, her stomps heard coming his way. “You would, too.”

Kaede swung the door open, eyeing her friend just outside as he casually picked himself off the wall to stand up straight. She’d almost jumped at the sight of him, expecting to see the traits she’d only ever observed him with, but was alternatively greeted by a nearly different person. The silver hair she’d come to know was now black, no longer reflecting the orange hues of fire as beautifully as it once had. His eyes, too, were dark, but she couldn’t quite grasp if the color was charcoal or brown. His dog ears had vanished as well, replaced by normal, rounded, human ears at the side of his head.

“You look weird.” She said with a distasteful curl of her upper lip.

“Thanks.” Inuyasha replied dully. “Let me in.”

Another groan was bequeathed before she stepped aside, allowing the hanyou-turned-human to enter her living quarters.

“I’m fine. You don’t need to play bestie and hold me while I cry.”

“I had no intentions of holding you.” He admitted, stealing the chair by the fireplace as his own. “If you need any sort of physical affection, a one-armed-side-hug is the best I’m willing to offer.”

“Ew, don’t touch me.” Kaede grimaced, taking a seat of her own across from him. After a moment of awkward silence, she finally tried to swallow her annoyance, huffing out, clapping a hand on her thigh, and then anxiously standing again. She crossed to a tray at the far end, pouring two glasses of deep red wine, handing one to him as she ambled back over.

“Where’s Kagome?” She asked, taking a large sip when she sat down again. “Don’t you two came as a pair now?”

Inuyasha smiled skeptically, taking a sip of his own. “Not at all. She’s in the room. She wanted me to come check on you, too.”

“Oh. I’m just surprised she didn’t want to come, is all. She’s kinder than you are, so I figured she would have been all over it.”

“I think she’s worried you’re holding some animosity toward her and wants to respect your space.”

“What!?” Kaede gasped, her expression widening. “No! Oh, goddammit! Shit! Fuck! Dammit! Fuck! Shit! I overreacted! I didn’t mean to be mean to her!”

Inuyasha laughed at her string of repetitive curses. “You didn’t overreact at all. It was expected.”

“Did I hurt her feelings? Go get her right now so I can hug her!”

“No.” He laughed a little harder. “Kagome’s fine. She totally understood. Knowing her, I think she was just considering our relationship and didn’t want to make you talk to her if you didn’t feel comfortable.”

“I’m making her blueberry pancakes in the morning.” Kaede groaned, slumping down in her chair.

“Seriously, dude. She’s fine. She’s just worried about you. So am I.”

The innkeeper took a deep, steadying breath, sighing it out as she forced herself to sit up straight. After another sip of her wine, the color subtly staining her lips, she spoke. “I’m okay. It was just a shock. A huge shock. I’m sad, sure, but you’re right. It would have been substantially worse if I had known she was alive prior. To me, Kikyo had been dead for more than a decade already, so this wasn’t like I had actually gotten my sister back or anything. I’m more upset that no matter what, her end was still tragic.”

Inuyasha remained quiet, allowing his friend to stare at nothing on the wall while she sat with the weight of her newfound knowledge.

“Naraku, huh?” She asked. “Kikyo really loved him?”

“So she said.” He answered. “She was also capable of admitting that she realized it was a volatile match. It was just too late by the time she’d understood.”

“What can you tell me about that?”

“You sure you want to know?”

“Positive. I’d rather have the insight than open-ended shit where my brain has the freedom to wander.” She confirmed resolutely.

“Alright,” Inuyasha took another gulp of wine, letting the bitter liquid sit on his tongue for a second before swallowing. “Well, I guess it started off sweet but ended up transitioning into something toxic and controlling as Naraku got a taste for power. It’s hard to imagine a more compassionate version of him, and honestly, I refuse to believe one ever existed. Kikyo said she was about seventeen when they’d met, and he was a lot older, so you can see where they couldn’t possibly be on the same level of maturity. I think Naraku was trying to train her into obedience. The younger they are, the easier they fall into line. Or, so he thought.”

Kaede winced, but tried not to make it noticeable. She didn’t care for sugarcoating, and didn’t want her friend to think it was necessary just because this was a sensitive topic. She wanted the truth, and the truth wasn’t always something that would sit lightly in your stomach. Sometimes, the truth made you feel sick and discomfited. This was one of those times where it was going to take days to properly digest it all. But, that was something she was willing to accept.

“Like I said before, Kikyo intentionally never introduced you two. I guess she and Naraku had been seeing each other for a while, but she felt inclined to keep you out of her affairs until she was comfortable enough to know things would last for the long haul. Considering the guy never knew what you looked like, I think that was why it was a lot easier to fake your death when the going got tough. Kikyo took those lessons with the dark conjurer, and I forgot her name already, but it’s irrelevant anyway since she’s dead. She ended up using that magic she’d learned against Naraku, but she had to wait for the right moment. She wanted to leave him, but felt a sense of responsibility for his uprise. I think she blamed herself for letting him get so out of hand. Thus, the start of her lifelong battle against the fucker.”

“I had -“ Kaede shook her head, now staring at Inuyasha in disbelief. “I had no idea. So, why did - wait, I’m sorry, I just don’t understand - why did she end up telling you all of this?”

“Oh, she didn’t tell me.” Inuyasha clarified with a small grimace. “She was telling Kagome. I was just there. Kikyo didn’t like me at all, and didn’t want me there to begin with.”

“What?” The chuckle Kaede released was more of confusion than amusement, but it was still nice to see somewhat of a smile on her mouth.

“Yeah, Kae, she was pretty blunt about that. She wanted to speak with Kagome in private, but we both refused. I mean, Kagome was just gonna come back and tell me everything anyway, so when she said no, I backed her up, and your sister didn’t like that.”

“Her way or no way.” She sighed with a playful roll of her eye. “Nice to know that never changed. So, she and Kagome had a relationship of some sort?”

“If you can really call it that. This is where it gets confusing, so I’m going to give you the extremely dumbed down version.” Inuyasha prefaced, finishing off his wine. “You believe in reincarnation?”

“Uh-oh.” Kaede frowned.

“Kagome’s sentiments exactly.” He chuckled. “Apparently, there used to be a conjurer around named Midoriko. After she died, her soul was split in two. About thirty-percent went into Kikyo, the rest went into Kagome. They had a soul connection.”

“Excuse me?”

“Please don’t make me go into detail. I don’t even think Kagome fully understands it, so you think I do?”

“Alright, alright. Continue.” She relented.

“Anyway, Kikyo had been sick for a while and essentially needed help pulling the trigger against Naraku, so she tracked down Kagome. It makes sense now that they absolutely couldn’t travel together. Naraku was hunting your sister, so it would’ve been two birds with one stone, and Kikyo wanted her to remain undiscovered as long as possible. Kagome wasn’t lying, they had never had a meaningful conversation before this entire ordeal. Kikyo would use her dark magic to sort of send oddly vague messages to Kagome, which got Kagome on the road, and the first time she got any sort of tangible information was when I was with her.”

“She wanted Kagome to remain undiscovered? For what?”

“A better chance at another conjurer sneaking up on Naraku, I presume.”

“But, you said you faced him the other day.” Her brows furrowed.

“His puppet, but yes. We did. We ended up killing a demon he’d created himself a few days prior. That was how he’d found out about her. The puppet was sent to kill Kagome.”

“No.” She gasped, her stomach sinking.

“She said she fell and got a bruise on her side.” Inuyasha stoned, clenching his jaw at the memory. “The truth is, he threw her off the side of a cliff.”

“What!?”

“She landed in the river. Koga showed up and pulled her out.”

“Fuck.” Kaede breathing stiffly. “Is she really okay?”

“Hah,” He scoffed sullenly. “She’s fine. The girl can get messed up as all hell, and the only time I’ve ever really heard her complain was when she fell on her ass and hurt her tailbone. It was me that wasn’t okay.”

“Inuyasha…” Her friend didn’t speak for a moment. He merely responded to her unwavering sympathy with a shrug of his brow, shifting his human eyes her way. Kaede had softened considerably since the start, taking the moment to finish off the last of her wine. It was different to see such a typically tough man who wore disinterest on his brow like an accessory so incredibly wounded by the remembrance of almost losing someone he evidently held dear. While she’d already held a sense of respect for him, this view of who he was beneath the surface was a nice change.

“I know I threw a hissy fit earlier, but I truly am grateful Kagome was there for my sister. No matter what, Kikyo didn’t die alone.”

“We buried her.” Inuyasha said. “One day, when this is over, I’ll take you to her grave.”

Kaede stared at the wooden floor, an appreciative grin appearing. “Thank you. For doing that. Thank you. In the meantime, I’ll visit our old village and put some flowers at the willow.”

After saying goodnight to Kaede, allowing her to grieve in peace, the hanyou-turned-human made his way back to their room. It had been a few hours, having decided to change the subject and distract his friend with mild and meaningless conversation, so he wouldn’t have been surprised if Kagome had fallen asleep at some point. He also wouldn’t have been surprised to walk in and see her awake. Kagome had the tendency to be kept up by her thoughts, and given she was worried about Kaede’s emotional condition, she was most likely in the same spot on the bed, same position that he’d left her in.

Just in case, Inuyasha was quiet as he entered, twisting the lock behind him as he ambled toward the bed. Kagome was curled up on her side, her hair spread out behind her as she cuddled into the pillow, fast asleep. A smile pulled at the corners of his lips. She looks so tranquil right now, positively gorgeous.

He sat on the chair to kick off his boots, trying to be as silent as possible, but as he rose, Kagome groggily shifted to look at him, blinking blearily.

“Hi.” She greeted in the smallest tone.

“You’re not even under the blanket, you dummy.” Inuyasha commented.

“I fell asleep.” Kagome rubbed her eyes.

“No duh.” He chuckled lightly, crawling on the bed as she opened her arms for him.

Inuyasha snaked an arm of his own between her waist and the mattress, wrapping around her as he pulled her in close and sighed out against her neck. Her giggle was lethargic but still so sweet, her fingers gentle as she took her time working out the tie in his hair that kept it up at the crown of his head.

“How was she?” Kagome asked, running her hands through as soon as the length was all free and massaging his scalp.

“She’s holding up.” He whispered against her skin. The way his hot breath bounced off inadvertently attracted his lips down, gently planting kiss after kiss to her shoulder.

“Is everything okay? Or, is that a stupid question to ask? Is she upset?”

“She’s not upset, baby. Kaede was just caught off guard. Her sister is a sensitive subject, so to hear all of this sort of threw off her reality. Seriously, she’s going to be fine. You don’t need to worry too much.” Inuyasha planted another kiss to try and distract her, clutching her tighter when she giggled again.

“Are you sure?” Kagome tried, wriggling against him when he pushed his hands inside her shirt, softly stroking up and down her spine.

“Mhm.” He murmured in reply, nuzzling into her. “You smell good.”

“Wait, baby, that tickles!” She laughed, trying to be careful with the way her knees jutted against him. It was impossible to fight back her small squeak when Inuyasha playfully bit her shoulder. “Excuse me! What is up with you?” Kagome giggled harder, barely trying to fight him off.

“You taste good, too.” Inuyasha added, nibbling again.

“No hickies!” She swiftly objected, giving a little tug to his hair. One she hadn’t realized sparked something in him as he swallowed his pleased grunt. “That big one is just now fading.”

“You didn’t seem to dislike it while you had it.” Inuyasha claimed, moving up to steal a kiss from her lips. “You never once complained.”

“You - taste -“ Kagome spoke between deepening pecks. “Like - wine.”

“Mhm.”

“And, you called me a lightweight. Guess, you can’t hold your alcohol when you’re human, huh?” She observed teasingly.

“Not drunk.” He grunted in reply, moving back down to her throat. “What’s the verdict? I didn’t hear you counter me.”

“No hickies,” Kagome repeated lightly. “There.”

“There?” Inuyasha arched a speculative brow, a devious smile slowly growing. Grabbing Kagome’s waist, he shifted himself beneath her, her thighs now straddling his hips as his hands were now allowed to wander. “Then, where? Here?” Inuyasha asked, trailing his fingers over the portion of her blouse that covered her breasts. “Here?” He went further, gently rubbing his hands over her abdomen. “Here?” His hands went between her legs, caressing over the softness of her inner thighs.

“All good.” Kagome tried confidently replying, though her shyness was beginning to get the better of her.

“Ah, so you want me to mark you. You just like it more in private. So, that you can have the evidence of my territoriality while others are kept out of our business.” Inuyasha steadily observed, his fingers squeezing into the outer portion of her legs now. “I can respect that.”

“And, you?” She asked, brown eyes flickering down to his lips for a second. “How do you feel about hickies?”

“Hate ‘em.” He lied. “So trashy.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Disgusting.”

“And, if I gave you one?”

“I would never allow that.”

Kagome leaned down to shut him up, taking claim on his mouth, and her boyfriend moved to bring her impossibly closer, grabbing her ass and yanking her against him. She led the kiss, slipping her tongue inside to tease him before softly raking her teeth over his bottom lip. It was like he was in a trance, following her guidance, letting her do as she pleased. His palms remained on her bottom, rubbing over the curve of her, holding her to him, and she utilized the moment to kiss her way over his jaw and down his neck.

Honing in on her spot, Kagome sucked down hard, implementing her teeth, jolting Inuyasha out of his reverie as he stiffened with a laugh.

“Hey!” He shouted, trying to yank her off. “What did I just say, you heathen!?”

Kagome laughed as he pinched his fingers against her ribs, jabbing her tickle spot and rolling her off of him to take up his new position. She was trying to struggle, but he’d easily pinned her, playfully biting into her shoulder with a feigned and feral growl.

“You’ve abused your privileges for the last time!”

—

Inuyasha tried to muffle his groan, but he’d forgotten to pull the curtains shut the night before. The morning light was shining through the window and hitting him right in the face, the intrusive sound of birds chirping rudely disturbing his slumber.

Kagome was in front of him, facing away, but she had the right idea. She’d curled up into a ball and tucked her face beneath the blanket so the rays of the sun couldn’t tear her from her sleep. But, he would. This arrangement was not suitable for him in the least.

With sluggish movements, the hanyou scooted himself a little closer to her, finding her arm and pulling her to roll over. At first, she was heavy, resistant, but he was stronger and would definitely win - half asleep or not. Kagome responded to his silent request with a little groan, finally unfurling from her ball as she poked her head out of the blanket, following his pull with her eyes still obstinately closed.

“C’mere.” Inuyasha groggily mumbled.

“Sleepy.” She whined quietly, but eventually rolled over to her side to face him.

“Don’t care.” He replied, grabbing her lifeless arm and wrapping it over his shoulders while he tucked himself into her naked chest. Lazily, he planted kisses over the exposed skin, Kagome taking it upon herself to hook her top leg over his bare hip so that they cuddled closer. Perfect. So fucking perfect. Tangled beneath the sheets with Kagome, engulfed in her warmth and scent, feeling the pattern of her breathing while he nuzzled into her, it was perfect.

“We have to get up soon.” Inuyasha eventually murmured.

“If you love me at all, you’ll give me five more minutes.” Kagome grumbled in response.

“Two more minutes.”

“Five.”

“Two and a half.”

“Five.”

“Three.”

“Five.”

“You don’t know how to negotiate.” He chuckled, kissing a mark he’d left on her breast the night before.

“Not in the morning, I don’t.”

Fair enough. Even though he’d relented to her request, she was still a monster to drag out of bed. He’d figured it was more for sport than the fact that she was actually tired, though. Kagome wasn’t very good at stifling her amused giggles when she played dead weight as he tried pulling her off of the mattress. With the promise of breakfast, his girlfriend was up, dressed, and ready to head out in a matter of fifteen fucking minutes.

Inuyasha was actually surprised to see the dining area of the tavern bustling with people. It wasn’t packed, and there were still pretty good options for seating, but he was more shocked that Kaede had gotten up and opened this morning considering the preceding night’s events. Inuyasha grabbed Kagome’s hand to guide her through the business, leading her toward an empty table in the back before he felt a jerk stop him. Looking over his shoulder at Kagome’s gasp, he saw Kaede had ran over and grabbed her other hand, pulling her away.

“Gimme! I want to borrow her for a second!” Kaede demanded, giving Kagome another yank.

Glancing at Kagome to make sure she was okay, he released her hand at the sign of her nod, sauntering over to claim the table by himself.

Kaede led Kagome around the counter and through to the back, stopping in the food pantry, turning around, and pulling Kagome into a strong hug. “I’m sorry I yelled.”

“What? You have nothing to be sorry for. Did Inuyasha tell you -“

“No, Inuyasha swore you were fine. I just felt really bad for the way I had reacted.”

“Kaede -“

“Hush. Don’t interrupt me. Let me love you.” The innkeeper squeezed her arms around Kagome’s shoulders tighter, smothering the conjurer’s giggle so it was hardly heard. In her ear, Kaede whispered, “Thank you so much for being there for Kikyo when I couldn’t. I’ll never forget your kindness.”

Finally, Kagome relaxed, nodding against her as she accepted the gratitude. “I was happy to.”

“Do you prefer pancakes or toast?” Kaede asked, leaning back and rubbing the conjurer’s shoulders kindly.

“Pancakes! Always pancakes!” She answered elatedly, following the innkeeper out of the pantry and back up toward the front where they continued to talk, Kagome temporarily occupying a stool.

“So, what’s on the agenda today? Taking off, or staying an extra night?”

“Nah, Inuyasha wants to set out soon. We need to stop by the market place and stock up on arrows since I’m down to one, but after that we’re back on the road.”

“Are you sure you’re rested enough?” Kaede inquired, taking a quick glance around the dining room to make sure no one was beckoning her for something.

“Oh, yeah. Absolutely. Ever since the incident several days ago, Inuyasha and I have been taking it pretty easy. We’re definitely okay now.” She confidently answered.

“Okay, well I have a few things for you. Inuyasha told me you guys were running a little low on disinfectants and healing salves. I put together some of my own making, and -“ Kaede paused, her head cocking to the side slightly as she spotted a woman she hadn’t often seen frequent her bar speaking with Inuyasha at the far end of the room. Unfortunately, Kaede’s suspicion wasn’t inconspicuous in the least, and Kagome intriguingly followed the direction of her line of sight, turning around in the stool to see the woman, too.

“Who’s that?” She curiously asked.

“Not sure.” Kaede shrugged as Kagome swiveled back around to face her. “It’s not abnormal for people to try and get Inuyasha to do a job or two if they hear he’s in town. Maybe word got out and she’s trying to get him to do something for her.” It really wasn’t all that odd. There was just something about the woman’s body language that Kaede couldn’t place, and that was what had caught her initial interest. But, then she witnessed the woman tenderly trail her fingers down Inuyasha’s arm, and Kaede pinched back her shocked laugh. “Or, to her.”

Again, Kagome turned around, playing witness to the flirtatious woman’s antics. Who in the goddamn hell was this chick? Inuyasha had pulled his arm away, the look of utter impassiveness, almost annoyance, written on his face, but the woman merely laughed it off, leaning over the side of the table to push herself closer to him.

Without a word, she slid herself off the stool, crossing the tavern with intent.

“Hi, you’re - you’re Inuyasha, right?” A woman’s voice spoke, bringing the hanyou to glance up at the unfamiliar tone. She was young, maybe early twenties, tall, curvy, and her brown hair was long and straight. Her eyes blinked with shy interest, deep blue in color behind dark lashes. “Oh my god, it is you.”

“Uh, hi?” He apprehensively greeted, a little put off by her starstruck demeanor.

“You wouldn’t happen to remember me, would you?”

“I wouldn’t, no.” Inuyasha admitted with a small shake of his head. “Should I?”

“I guess that’s not surprising. It was a few years ago, and we barely got to talk afterwards, but you saved me from a demon attack.”

“I sort of deal with demons often so that’s not really going to narrow anything down for me.”

“Oh wow, you really don’t remember?” She came off as playfully disbelieving that time, her blush growing. “It was a goblin-looking thing. Kidnapped me while I was harvesting vegetables and took me away for a forced marriage. Then, you came heroically swooping in and saved my life.”

“Ah.” He absorbed her tale with minimal interest. She was being weirdly giggly, and it was only making him uncomfortable.

“So, you remember now?”

“No.”

With a slightly defeated sigh, she hung her head an inch, recovering with a smile nonetheless. “Well, that’s alright. Look, the reason I came over here was to thank you for that day. You were so quick, in and out, and I was shaking madly from the entire thing that I never got to express how grateful I was. I’ve wanted to see you ever since, but you’re always on the move, one job to the next. Now, here you are. Years later, and we’re finally in the same place at the same time.”

“You don’t need to thank me.” He carelessly shrugged. “It was a long time ago.”

“Please?” She batted her eyes.

“Ah jeez. Okay, fine.” Inuyasha tried to hide his uneasy grimace. “If it means that much to you, get it over with.”

With a satisfied grin, she leaned in a little closer. “Thank you, Inuyasha.”

“Sure.” He leaned away.

The woman stood, but just as she turned to leave, she stopped. There was an air about her that told Inuyasha his discomfort was about to climb, and as she looked over her shoulder at him, he stiffened. Something new, sultry, adventurous was behind her blue eyes, and he knew he needed to shut that down fast.

“I apologize if this is too forward, but I’ve thought about you everyday since you saved me.”

“Okay.” Inuyasha responded flatly.

“It would mean the world to me if I could thank you with a payment.”

“Call me presumptuous, but would your payment happen to be of monetary value?”

The woman licked her lips, leaning against the table as she playfully pinched the folded portion of Inuyasha’s sleeve at the curve of his elbow. “Tell me, Inuyasha. Am I your type?”

With a weary grunt, Inuyasha moved his arm so she’d stop. “See that girl at the counter? Long, black hair? Grey shirt?” He waited for the woman to follow his pointed finger and look in Kagome’s direction. “That’s my type. And, I’ve gotta tell you, getting me killed is no way to thank me.”

“You’re married?” She asked, turning back to him.

“No, but -“

“Oh, then it’s fine.” The woman chuckled, as if her point of view was common sense. She began trailing her fingers over the muscles of his arm, disregarding when he pulled away again. “She doesn’t own you.”

“Not interested.” He stated once and for all.

“You said I could thank you, Inuyasha.” She promiscuously leaned forward, exposing her cleavage as her hand stroked his forearm.

A loud clank directly next to her had startled the woman, bringing her to tense rigidly. Even Inuyasha looked afraid, pinching his lips in a flat line of apprehension. Kagome had stolen a set of utensils off of a table she’d passed, tossing it between the two so the metal clapped loudly against the surface of the table.

“Inuyasha doesn’t much like people touching him.” She dryly said, stepping the rest of the way over. Steadily, she picked up the woman’s wrist to remove her hand from her hanyou, dropping it away as if it were a dirty rag. “Neither do I.”

The woman said nothing, blue eyes bouncing away from her as she looked to the hanyou then around the room to see if anyone had seen. With the hint of finality, Kagome waved her hand dismissively. “Shoo.”

“I told her about you!” Inuyasha hastily fired in defense just as soon as the woman left and Kagome’s eyes transferred to him.

“I know.” She grumbled, taking her seat across from him. “I heard you say you weren’t interested.”

“So, you’re not mad at me?” He cautiously proceeded.

“No, of course not.” Kagome said, though she still seemed peeved. “What did she even want?”

“I guess I saved her from a demon a few years ago. She wanted to thank me.”

“She needs to learn how to use her words.”

“Oh, she used her words just fine. I think it was something else she was -“

“Stop!” Kagome winced agitatedly, her scowl deepening as she held up her hand to silence him. “No! Do not finish that sentence!”

“Sorry, sorry.” Inuyasha gave in, trying to hide his amusement. She was cute as hell when she was this sort of jealous, and now he almost felt obligated to thank the woman for revealing this side of Kagome to him. He knew the version of her when she got somewhat jealous enough to grow flustered and ramble, but angry? So long as it was aimed someone else’s way, it had to be one of his new, favorite things.

“Maybe I really should have given you a hickey last night.” She muttered, crossing her arms over her chest.

“And, what would that solve?” He grinned.

“She’d know you’re taken.”

“She knew I was taken. I pointed right over to you and told her.”

“The disrespect.” Kagome pouted, bringing Inuyasha to fold. He laughed, reaching across the table to force her arms to uncross and take her hands.

“Babe, stop. You’ve got nothing to be jealous about, I would have never let anything happen.” He tried reassuring.

“Oh, I’m not jealous, Inuyasha.” Kagome denied, leaning forward to look him straight in the eyes with obduracy. “I’m possessive. There’s a difference.”

The hanyou stiffened pleasantly, his jaw dropping an inch as he arched a single brow. He swore, his heart did a fucking flip in his chest, and his stomach erupted in a wild flurry of gleeful butterflies. What the fuck had just come over him?

“Kagome, baby,” He nervously started, feeling his demeanor faltering. “We have to head out today. And, if you say that again, I don’t think we’ll be going anywhere. So, please, please…”

His voice trailed off as she took on a more tempting, challenging, torrid expression, shrugging a brow in reply. Inuyasha had almost lost the battle instantly. The vixen in her was coming out full force, and it felt like a crime to shut her down.

“We don’t have the time!” He adamantly argued, trying to keep his head in the game.

“Says who?” Kagome asked, her voice low and smooth. “Don’t we make our own schedule?”

Inuyasha had covered his mouth with his hand, leaning into it as he felt his willpower quickly depleting.

“We never checked out right?” She gave a one shouldered shrug, her eyes drifting down to the table as if she could see straight through to his hips.

“I hate you.” He breathed.

“No, you don’t.” Kagome returned in the same, nonexistent tone.

Feeling a heat shoot through his veins, Inuyasha admitted defeat with grin, his tongue swiping over his canine tooth. “Upstairs. Now.”

Kagome smiled, biting her lip triumphantly as she casually stood from her seat and set off before him. He was fucking done for.

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