#c) no apologies for the sudden decision even if I run the thing and you decided to shit it down until further notice without consulting me

[iamacolor]

you really can't take anything for granted can you

[soap-lady]

Wrote this instead of sleeping.

@angelqueen13art @idreamtofmanderleyagain

So...that domestic fluff I mentioned that I wanted someone else to write? Yeah...

So, these will be little vignettes that I may or may not continue but I would not have been able to sleep until I wrote this. Feedback and suggestions are welcome.

This first bit is a retelling of the end of Hellraiser II where Elliot survived and escaped with Kirsty and Tiffany. It's probably not entirely movie accurate but I hope it's still ok.

Life is weird.

Well, that was a blanket statement. Weird was such a subjective term. What was weird to one person was normal, even comforting to someone else. Considering what had happened to her in less than six months she probably wasn’t the best judge. Still, as Kirsty Cotton lay on a bed made of air mattresses and old quilts between her new adoptive little sister and a man missing presumed dead for nearly seventy years, she thought she had the right to call her life weird.

It had been an impulse for her to push the Column of Souls into Channard and impale him upon the spear he’d impaled the child who’d once been Chatterer with. Channard had wailed and tried to pry himself off and in the meantime Kirsty beckoned the man who’d once been the priest of Hell to follow her. His followers had sacrificed themselves to save her and if she could spare someone else their fate she would. Daddy was beyond her help but not this man. He looked at her in surprise but followed her and Tiffany when they ran.

“My apologies for not introducing myself earlier,” the man from the photograph easily kept up with them, not even out of breath, “my name was Spencer. Elliot Spencer. Captain.”

“Nice to meet you,” Kirsty answered as she glanced behind them to make sure they hadn’t been pursued. “We can all have…tea or something later. Run!”

They ran down a corridor and suddenly found themselves back in the hospital. Tiffany began striding her way through a ward and Kirsty had to hurry to keep up with her. The former Hell Priest, now Elliot Spencer followed them silently as if unsure he was allowed to be there.

The hospital was in an uproar as dead bodies lay on cots while patients ran amuck and chased nurses. No one bothered to stop the trio as a man chased an orderly with a hatchet.

“I have to go back,” Tiffany said suddenly.

“Tiffany, what are you saying?!” Kirsty couldn’t believe what she was saying and she and Elliot shared a look of incredulity between them.

“I have to solve the puzzle,” Tiffany explained as they walked. “They remembered and they got better.”

Meanwhile the former captain was silently panicking. They’d barely escaped. His fellow Cenobites had died without even being able to raise arms in defense. His chains had failed as his powers forsook him. He could barely defend himself or the young ladies with him. Go back?!

Tiffany took the decision out of their hands as she ran back into Kirsty’s room as the pathway to the Labyrinth reopened. With a quick glance over her shoulder to see if they would follow her she continued to run.

“Tiffany, what are you doing?” Kirsty asked as they stumbled across the skin that had once been Julia. One hand still held the diamond shape that had once been the box.

Elliot peered over her shoulder. “The Lament Configuration has many forms. The box is one, the diamond another. If Tiffany can shift it back into the box we can close the door and seal the schism, hopefully after escaping.”

Kirsty caught her breath long enough to glare at him. “Turning it into that thing was your doing. Why?”

Why had he done that? The sudden rush of his human memories was overwhelming and he tried to sort through them for an answer. After a few minutes he just shrugged. “It seemed a good idea at the time.”

She rolled her eyes and was about to answer him when Tiffany took off again. They rushed off with her.

“Where is she going?” Kirsty yelled to Elliot.

He was about to reply that he didn't know when something occurred to him. “To be closer to Leviathan. He’s…God here. The box now mimics his form. Perhaps solving it will let us leave, at least in her mind.”

Kirsty wanted to protest but Elliot spoke up. “Tiffany has a gift for puzzle solving. Trust her.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to say she should trust him but he could see why she wouldn’t or couldn’t at the moment. True, he’d been prepared to die to save her but that didn’t mean she wasn’t still afraid. Perhaps she should be. Still, he would do what he could to protect both her and Tiffany, even if he met his end doing so.

*****

The three ran until they were on the pathway leading to Leviathan. As the Lord of the Labyrinth rotated overhead it was all Elliot could do to stop himself from dropping to his knees in worship. Something about them still called to the priest he’d once been and looked at the girls. Tiffany strode forward as if in a dream, Kirsty close behind her as a protector. Elliot stood straight, shoulders back, head high. These young women had no training, no experience. Yet Tiffany had broken her bonds of silence to fight back and Kirsty had talked her way out of Hell twice. He drew courage from them, ashamed at his momentary weakness.

As they drew closer Kirsty looked up at Leviathan. “Oh my God!” Elliot nodded while Tiffany continued on alone.

The blonde girl twitched as Leviathan shined its black light upon her. She remembered…her mother had gone to Doctor Channard for help. She was spending too much time with puzzles. Her mother begged him for help but was rewarded with death. She cried out for her mother but Channard had whisked her away to the operation room. He wanted to perform surgery on her in the hopes she wouldn’t remember witnessing her mother’s murder.

“No!”

She collapsed and Elliot and Kirsty ran to her. Kirsty kneeled down to hold her but he held back. His family…wasn’t naturally affectionate, only his old Nurse had ever comforted him. Fortunately Kirsty knew what to do. She had a knack for empathy that he’d lost. Clever, brave girl.

Suddenly Kirsty understood. “Tiffany…it’s a puzzle…it’s all a puzzle!”

Spencer was impressed by her understanding and was glad to have a way to contribute to her knowledge. “In a way, yes.” He stood by Kirsty and explained a bit of what he knew. “The Lament Configuration was designed to be a doorway, its design inspired by Leviathan itself.”

Kirsty looked at him. “It sounds a little conceited.”

He shrugged. “I studied quite a bit of Greco-Roman culture as a boy. Most gods are conceited.”

Tiffany knelt and began to solve the puzzle as Elliot and Kirsty stood guard. The pieces began to move, shifting into place.

Beside her Channard rose from the mists to attack Tiffany. He had a hole in his chest and was moving stiffly. They hadn’t managed to kill him but they had slowed him down. Kirsty and Elliot shot forward to protect Tiffany.

“Tiffany!” Kirsty cried out and tried to reach her. One of his tentacles was poised to attack Kirsty but Elliot threw himself in front of her to shield her. The tentacle turned into a spear and impaled itself in Elliot’s shoulder. Spencer screamed and tried to pull it out. Kirsty went to Tiffany’s aid and was knocked to the ground.

The creature that was once Channard glared at its predecessor. “I’ll deal with you later,” it promised. It turned back to Tiffany and Kirsty. “Ah, girls. And how are we feeling today?”

Elliot had given up trying to dislodge the tentacle and decided to break it off instead. He had to save the girls! He was going to do something right for the first time in a long time. He bent the thing forward and backward, trying to get it to break. It was beginning to fray and he frantically worked faster.

The Lament Configuration slid across the stone and away from Tiffany. Kirsty shoved the tentacle holding her off her and stood up.

“You have your whole lives behind you now,” Channard continued. His voice was a parody of kindness and false concern.

“No anesthetic at hand. Shame.” More false concern. “Surgery is open, Tiffany. What was today’s agenda? Ah, yes. Evisceration!” He cackled in delight like a penny dreadful villain.

Elliot had almost freed himself. He could see the conversion chamber rising behind Tiffany and his newly beating heart nearly stopped. No. Not for Tiffany. She was innocent. Not for Kirsty either. He worked harder.

The tentacles become scalpels and bundles of needles. Kirsty looked from Tiffany to Elliot, who still hung there useless and ashamed. To his surprise, she ran away, leaving him and Tiffany.

Elliot wanted to shout after and make her come back but he was almost free. The pain was excruciating but he’d felt worse. He had to help Tiffany before he went into shock. He looked around for something to staunch the bleeding and found nothing. He hoped it would clot by itself.

Sweat poured down his face as he worked to tentacle back and forth until it broke in two with a crack unnoticed by Channard. Good. Let him be oblivious while he tried to pull himself off the tentacle shard. He gritted his teeth as he tried to pull himself off. He wouldn’t do anything as undignified as screaming.

Suddenly out of the fog Julia appeared and grabbed Tiffany. Elliot had nearly freed himself and grabbed a wayward tentacle as both a lever and a weapon. He hoped he could distract them long enough for Tiffany to run. She could always solve the puzzle from a safer location.

Channard’s tentacles receded back into his hands as he saw the woman he wanted. “I knew you’d come back.”

Julia didn’t speak but drew close to Channard and kissed him. Tiffany slipped away and towards the puzzle. Elliot freed himself with a grunt and stalked towards Channard and Julia but watching them kiss turned his stomach. His hands clutched his makeshift weapon tighter.

Spencer watched as Tiffany began to solve the box. Lightning crashed overhead as Leviathan signaled their disapproval. Had he still believed, Elliot would have prayed.

Unfortunately even Julia could only distract Channard for so long before he turned away from her and noticed Tiffany. “Your case is closed, Tiffany,” he told the girl, “I’m afraid it’s terminal!”

If the situation weren’t so dire, Spencer would have rolled his eyes. The doctor was overdramatic, even as a Cenobite. He wasted time with horrid jokes that wouldn’t amuse a primary school child. He raised the broken tentacle. He would only get one chance. He had to make this attack count.

Channard fired his scalpel tentacles at Tiffany, only for them to get stuck in the stone when he missed. Really, this was turning into a farce.

The creature tried to free itself but couldn’t pull out the tentacles. Leviathan crackled with displeasure at their newest creation’s failures and pulled the head off the doctor. Tiffany stepped back in shock and nearly fell but Elliot lunged forward and caught her, pulling her to safety.

To their surprise, Julia approached them and looked at Elliot’s shoulder. “You’re going to need a real doctor to treat that for you.”

Elliot and Tiffany started. It was Julia’s face and Kirsty’s voice! Spencer looked at the face again. The face was sagging and looked bruised. A hand rose to peel the face away and revealed a smiling…Kirsty?!

Spencer started, shocked and…impressed. “You disguise yourself with Julia’s skin?” No wonder he’d wanted her as a Cenobite. “Clever thinking.”

The young women hugged each other and turned to Elliot. “We need to get out of here.”

They looked overhead as Leviathan began to shift and change until they began to resemble the box. The trio ran with Elliot between them in case he stumbled. This only made his wound bleed more. He almost told them to leave them and save themselves but a glare from a blood covered Kirsty made the words die in his throat and his scalp tingle. She truly was extraordinary.

Balls of blue light flashed around them as the schism began to close. Even without his powers Elliot could still feel Leviathan scream as they were defied and they made it back into Kirsty’s room as the doorway between worlds closed as what sounded like the Engineer screamed in fury.

The three of them collapsed in an undignified heap on the floor of Kirsty’s room. The young women tried very hard to cushion the landing for Spencer but he still winced in pain.

Kirsty grabbed the sheet off the bed to staunch the bleed. “Let’s get you a real doctor before you go into shock.”

*****

The hospital was still in an uproar hours later until a man in mismatched clothing had started a triage and organized the remaining to treat the injured and restore order. The man had his arm in a sling and his shoulder bandaged but had an air of authority that made it difficult to argue with him. The man said his name was Spencer and he had a military bearing.

After things had settled down and patients had returned to their beds the police had been summoned to take away the bodies and question the staff. It was tense for a bit when Elliot gave his name but after discovering the “special” patients on the maintenance floor (thanks to Kirsty) his interview was lost on the shuffle.

Authorities were eager to bury the incident as fast as they could arrange funerals for all the dead patients and since Tiffany and Kirsty seemed stable (and had such a level-headed, polite guardian to look after them) they had no problem being discharged.

Kirsty contacted Steve while they were still in the hospital and since he owed her for abandoning her in her time of need, he had workmen repair her father’s house. He also “knew a guy” who could get Elliot an ID, Birth Certificate, even a Visa.

They were camping out in the living room for now waiting for new furniture. She didn’t want anything touched by Julia to remain. It was only temporary; she planned on selling the house and buying something smaller. Something without memories, good or bad.

Elliot moved restlessly in his sleep, mumbling something about incoming mortars and she reached over and squeezed his good shoulder. Her touch settled him down and he smiled a bit before rolling over.

Listening to her roommates’ slow, gente breathing was beginning to make her sleepy enough to join them.

Life was weird, but it was starting to stabilize.

[princessdreamie]

Divorced Billionaire Heiresses part 35

Few months have passed since the wedding and the Stanton's still have their own problems to deal with.

Meanwhile, Br had moved on from Fi (sort of) and got with another student from another school.

They met at one of the celeb parties she gets invited to from time to time. They spent time at the event and started dating after some time.

Mt & N didnt know about their daughter having a boyfriend nor did she plan on telling them.

Na started to hang out at Lo's place with the others. His aunt's home (the younger one) was pretty big for a woman alone. But the lady explained that she gets visits from her work friends, that stay overnight.

Lo's mom stayed with her new partner, until they got a bigger apartment for the 3 of them.

The boy didnt have much to say about the new guy, just that they knew eachother many years prior.

But it was not too bad, he liked staying at his aunt's house and have friends over, not like when he used to live with his parents.

He didnt invite anyone back then for his parents bickered for the most time when they were home.

Speaking of his dad. He still sits in jail but his sisters drive him to him to talk for a bit. It might take a while till he gets out though.

Just bc he was locked away doesn't mean his doesn't want to see him regardless, much to his mom's dismay.

While her pals played with Lo's stuff, Lo asked Na to talk in private. She obliged his request and what he had to say didnt come as a surprise to her.

Lo confessed that he thinks that he likes Le and wonders if she could help him getting closer to her.

Na realized his change whenever he and her hearing impaired friend got together. He even invited her to things. Either in a group or alone. Mi noticed that as well, but had no obligation to tell Le since in her opinion, they were still to young for this.

Na assured him that he had nothing to wory about, but still wait for a few years to ask her out. Begrudgingly, he agreed to her and both came back to play with the others.

At the Ferguson place

C got a text from his friend, Sandra, asking to meet up.

His reply came quick and asked her when he should arrive. Sa gave him the time and place shortly after. While he would like to know more he was sure that he could just ask her when they see each other.

Next day at the park

C waited on Sa at the agreed upon place. She was running late which was uncommon for his old friend.

All of a sudden his name was called out from behind him.

Thinking that his pen pal finally arrived, his happy mood turned sour once he saw Fi.

He had not seen him in ages and still was not much of a fan of his. His eyes scanned for Br, in case the 2 of them were together. To his luck he didnt see her anywhere.

Fi stared to talk to him like they were old friends. Which was not really the case. B4 he left their country, both of them hit heads with eachother. Was no matter what it was, school subjects, hobbies or anything really, thay could never go along.

The other teenager noticed rather quickly that C was not in the mood for false acquaintanceship. So he stopped and apologized to him for the things he had said and done to him in the past.

He explained: „I know we didnt get along back then. I was still believing that you liked Br. But it should have been obvious to me that it was not the case.”

C didnt say anyhting but listen to what else he had to say.

„I actually got married overseas. And sufficed to say, that it was the best decision i had ever made. You should meet her. Petra, my wife, is very nice. You might like her too.”

C raised his eyebrow but declined his offer. But not b4 he congratulated him to getting married at his young age.

B4 Fi could say anything, Sa finally arrived and apologies foe being late.

Looking back and forth at C & Sa he expected her being C's girlfriend. He patted the boy on the shoulder while putting a thumbs up as he stupidly grinned at the confused teenager.

Sa asked him what that was about but he just brushed it off and offeres her a drink while they took their walk.

[lemons3ason]

HOW THE VINSMOKE BROTHERS REACT TO LOSING THEIR S/O BECAUSE OF THEIR FATHER!

Warning: Mad Angst, Lowkey long I got kinda a little to into these scenarios, mentions of death and torture, I cried and lowkey need to make a part two for fluff TT-TT

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

Ichiji Vinsmoke

You were missing from bed this morning, of course Ichiji was curious of it since you were practically 8 months pregnant but he thought you were just back in the kitchen cooking with Cosette again. You were a chef for the Germa Kingdom, the only reason he had met you was because Niji had thrown a plate of food at Cosette and you shielded her from it before striking Niji in a nerve and knocking him unconscious for over 36 hours. Since that day Ichiji had claimed you as his, his cute firecracker, and yet for some reason you were never enough for his father. You made his son human, which in turn made him weak, sooner or later you would’ve had to be dealt with. Judge had summoned him to the throne room to speak with him alone, with his shadow casting over the young red haired man he spoke with a cold heartless tone, “(Y/n) has been executed. She was taken down to the dungeons before daybreak, so you won’t find her.”, he turned to his son to make sure he emphasized his point, “She wasn’t good enough for you anyways.”

Ichiji felt his heart shatter, something he once never had, and felt his lips quiver at the news. Nothing held him back, so why?! Why didn’t he just kill his father where he stood! Judge had sent you to the dungeons to be executed, all because he deemed you unworthy of the Vinsmoke name. Ichiji’s fist ignited into flames as his rage boiled in his blood. He was always cold and collected but right at this moment he was afraid! Afraid and enraged, Ichiji left his father alone and stormed down to the dungeons. Memories of his days tormenting Sanji replayed in his mind causing his stomach to churn. The dungeons were for the weak, only the strong could laugh from the other side of the bars and unfortunately you were just a weak powerless human compared to the monsters that lived right by your side.

“(Y/n)! (Y/n) answer me! Answer me right now!”, Ichiji’s voice roared through the cold dark cells of the dungeon.

Soldiers in charge of the chambers emerged attempting to calm their leader but their skulls simply met the hard brick walls as he punched them. Flames flickered from his fists and feet with each of his movements, even without his raid suit Ichiji was a force to be reckoned with.

“(Y/n)!”, his screams were desperate at this point, his emotional heart couldn’t handle the stress of the situation anymore.

Then he saw it, in pure disbelief he threw his glasses to the side taking in the pale lifeless battered body that laid before his eyes. Everything stopped, y-you were gone. He was to late. Ichiji didn’t want to believe it not now, not ever, he raced to your side scooping your cold form into his arm and holding you tight almost mistaking his own body heat as yours in broken hope that you were still alive. He was heartbroken, as he stared down at your beautiful sleeping face his vision became blurry. He had lost it, he lost you, tears and screams of agony poured out of Ichiji’s body. He couldn’t handle this, not (Y/n), not you of all people. His wails became louder so much so that his siblings could hear him, even Judge who stared out over the sea with no regret to his decision could hear the heartbroken wails of his precious son. Ichiji’s raw emotions triggered his powers, his tears evaporated from the intense heat his body produced and like an inferno eating at a dry field his flames engulfed the dungeons setting fire to half of the Germa Kingdom. Even as your body seared to ash in his arms he held onto you desperately his wails becoming noiseless gasps until his brothers pulled him out of the flames and away from your ashes.

“(Y/n)! (Y/n)! (Y/n)!!!!!”, He screamed fighting against his brothers strength as soldiers rushed in to put out the flames.

Even if he showed weakness because of his heart Ichiji mourned your death, he couldn’t handle it anymore because every little thing reminded him of you. For a whole week he had locked himself in your old quarters and he wouldn’t budge...not until Reiju appeared with the only thing that would pull him out of mourning. She kicked the door open holding something small in her arms and sighed seeing her brother collapsed by your bedside.

“She’s gone Ichiji, get over it.”, Reiju growled.

“How do you expect me to do that? Tell me Reiju! Every woman I’ve ever seen was merely a toy of amusement for me until I met her! She reminded me what it meant to be human, how do you expect me to get over her!”, the red haired male growled grabbing his sister by the fabric collar until a soft cry caught his attention.

The sudden rough movement had awaken the slumbering (h/c) haired baby that rested in Reiju’s arms. Ichiji’s body trembled from shock and he once again collapsed to his knees. Reiju smiled and kneeled down in front of her younger brother carefully placing his child in his arms, “(Y/n) fought till the very end, I noticed them take her down to the dungeon and the stress from them beating her drove her body into labor. Father’s word was absolute to kill her but nothing was said about the baby. All she asked was that I took her.”, Reiju sighed tears of regret falling from her blue eyes.

This little baby girl, with Ichiji’s curly little eyebrows, and your sweet eyes, was all he had left of you and he wouldn’t let his father take her from him like he took you!

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

Niji Vinsmoke

That night you hadn’t returned to bed, after a heated argument about his cruel behavior towards the staff of the ship you had left Niji alone in his quarters. The young prince waited impatiently for you to return but after midnight struck the clock he decided that it would be best to go find you instead. It wasn’t your first fight but truly he let himself go, he said things that he regretted and sucking it up and apologizing to you only seemed fair. He called your name loudly, not caring about the others and their sleep since he needed to find you quickly.

“(Y/n)? Hey little brat come on, it’s late we can continue this argument tomorrow just come to bed.”, he sighed running his fingers through his blue hair in frustration.

He noticed several guards talking amongst themselves and decided to question them on your whereabouts. All the soldiers froze up once they felt the intense anger radiating off of their general, they quickly stood at attention greeting Niji as he glared down at all of them. He noticed your necklace hanging out of one of their pockets and quickly snatched it back as he began to interrogate the soldier.

“Where the hell did you get this? A piece of gravel like you shouldn’t have been able to get this close to (Y/n) in order to take it. Where did you get this?”, Niji growled electricity discharged from his body with each passing second.

The soldier stumbled over his words trembling in fear as he looked death in the face, “I-I’m sorry sir! I-I found it in the dungeons it’s from the most recent kill. I-I didn’t know this b-belonged to Ms. (L/n)!”, the soldier squeaked in fear as Niji’s electricity made all the lights in the hall pop, his body glowed a dim blue in the dark corridor as he stormed down to the dungeons. Something didn’t feel right, for once an unsettling itch was making Niji nervous. Why would you be in the dungeons of all places? His steps echoed the farther down he went, but the eerie silence of the dungeons made his stomach ache. Something wasn’t right.

“(Y/n)? Hey brat, where are you? Come on this is enough, it’s not funny, (Y/n)!”, Niji yelled, his voice broke as he called your name, “(Y/n), come on I’m sorry! I don’t hate you, I love you so come back.”

For the first time ever fear was coursing through his blood and he didn’t know what to do. Every call of your name drove him crazy, you didn’t respond no matter how loud he got. He searched every sell desperately for you but he couldn’t find a thing, he was clueless on your whereabouts until one of the many prisoners in the dungeons spoke up.

“Niji?”, the old man called quickly grabbing the young prince’s attention.

“Who the hell do you think your calli-“

“That’s the name the young lady was calling when they were beating her. Niji, at the top of her lungs, it was painful to have to hear her.”, the old man sighed tears falling from his eyes.

Niji’s arms reached for his tattered clothes slamming him against the bars as he demanded answers, “What girl? Where did they take her?”

“T-this young lady with short (h/c) hair. They took her to the torture chamber just down the hall!”

“Her hair wasn’t short! Liar!”, Niji growled.

“I-It was! Lord Judge cut her hair with his spear to show her how little she meant to the family. Then ordered her execution, I haven’t heard her voice for the last three hours.”, the man admitted crying in fear of being punished.

Niji released the man and ran as quickly as he could to the chambers, but the pool of blood was enough for him to understand your fate. He stared down at the pool in defeat and fell to his knees as his vision became blurry. Bloodied whips and clubs littered the floor but Niji couldn’t see a thing, he screamed in anguish to the situation. His heart couldn’t take this, his head was splitting to the very thought of your death. His sadness quickly turned into rage, it’s was his fault, his father was the cause of all of this! Using his powers he appeared in his father’s room in a mere matter of seconds, his electricity burning hotter then ever before.

“WHERE IS MY (Y/N)?!”, Niji roared ripping his goggles off so he could see his father properly.

Judge, completely unamused by his favorite son’s outburst, simply scoffed and returned to his paperwork. Having been ignore Niji slammed his fist into Judge’s desk scattering and burning the papers throughout the room. He glared up at his father and repeated his question, “Where is my (Y/n)?”

“Tossed out to sea, it’s not like she was alive anymore. By now she’s being digested by some stray seaking that found her battered corpse.”, Judge sighed in frustration, “It’s not like I would’ve considered someone like her eligible to be your wife. A prince shouldn’t bother with a mere nameless slave.”

Niji was heartbroken, tears that had been ready to fall from his eyes from the past 20 years had finally started to fall. He couldn’t see, not even an inch in front of him as he grieved your death. He was to late, he fought with you and made you leave and when you needed him most he wasn’t there for you.

“It was pathetic how desperately she called your name, she was to reliant on you, it made the torture so much easier when she finally gave up. Hopefully the next woman you fall in love with is more suitable to be a Vinsmoke.”, Judge sighed lifting his son by his collar and throwing him out of his room.

Niji was forced to stumble back to his room, no matter how much he called you you never returned to his side. You were gone, all because he was to late.

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

Sanji Vinsmoke

“What happened to her? (Y/n)!”, Sanji yelled caressing your face as you slept.

Your body was covered in bruises and cuts from your recent fight with Niji, you had snuck onto the Germa ships to find Sanji and drag him back but unfortunately you had ran into one of his monster brothers. Reiju had stopped her beastly brother from killing you but you presence on the ship didn’t go unnoticed, Judge was now aware of you and he wasn’t happy. Reiju allowed you to stay in her room with Sanji but Judge had other plans for you.

“(Y/n) you idiot. You should’ve stayed with the others back on the Sunny.”, Sanji sighed holding your hand in his, you woke up seeing him softly kiss your knuckles.

“Takes an idiot to know one. Come back stupid, I miss you.”, you sighed turning to him.

Sanji frowned at you but he couldn’t help but smile seeing you awake. You were such a handful, always had been and always would be but that’s what he loved about you. He pressed a kiss to your forehead making you smile but once again you both forgot that you were prisoners to the family. Sanji carried you back to his room and kept you there by his side, you both softly whispered to each other declaring your love like children. Having you in his arms again made Sanji forget about his worries, all he needed was you and that’s all he wanted. Eventually sleep claimed you both but you both slept comfortably together sharing dreams that a promising future would hold. The next day Sanji was forced to meet Big Mom. He hoped that you’d be left alone in his quarters but hope was for fools, while he was gone one of the soldier’s had slipped a sleeping drug into your food and dragged you down to the dungeons.

“(Y/n), I’m back. Have you eaten I’ll make yo-(Y/n)? (Y/n)?!”, Sanji’s blood ran cold seeing you missing, you couldn’t move around with your injuries which meant someone had taken you. He raced through the halls of the ship searching for you desperately, not one soldier told him where you were but a feeling in his chest told him exactly where you were. His legs carried him to the dungeon chambers but he found himself unable to even open the door. Memories of the caged abuse he went through drove a cold sweat through his body, but he had to save you. He swallowed his fears and opened the door but his fears were realized when he heard your voice scream his name. He hurried, he rushed, as quickly as he could but he was seconds to late. With his father looming over your battered body Sanji was forced to watch the spear pierce through your back,

“S-sanji.”, you cried as the injury killed you instantly, your outstretched hand fell to the ground as you passed away.

“Why failures stick together I will never know, but at least there’s one less of you vermin.”, Judge growled pulling his spear from your corpse as he turned around to see his mortified son, “It’ll teach you better then to let fools get in the way of my goals.”

He simply scoffed at him and walked back up the stairs while Sanji fell to his knees just inches away from your body. “(Y-y/n)...(y/n).”, Sanji croaked holding the hand that you had been reaching for him with.

“(Y/n)!”, he screamed to no one in the cold depressing dungeon as he pulled your body towards his chest to hold you.

He sobbed into your hair, crying until his voice ran dry. Sanji couldn’t accept this, “Not like this, p-please not like this. Not her!”, he begged staring down at your bruised face that still looked like a beautiful Angel in his eyes.

“(Y/n) please don’t leave me. Not like this my dear.”, he whimpered pressing his forehead against yours.

This dungeon had caused him so much pain and now it was the place that had taken you from him. Why did life have to hate him so much? To be married off to a stranger, to be taken from his crew, and worst of all to lose the only woman he had wanted to marry. His family brought him nothing but agony, he cried until exhaustion forced him to sleep. Reiju was ordered to fetch him for dinner but the sight of her younger brother asleep against the wall while holding your dead corpse was enough to move her to tears. He truly did love you but now you were gone.

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

Yonji Vinsmoke

From the start Yonji knew that his father hated your existence, but Yonji just couldn’t help it. He had fallen for you, the way his name rolled of your tongue and past your sweet soft lips made him crave your presence. The way you reached your small hands up to him to hold his face in your hands made his heart face, but your eyes, your beautiful passionate shimmering eyes made him fall head over heels for you. Even when he was disrespectful towards others Yonji would always keep an eye on you smiling when he saw you doing the simplest of tasks. The prince that loved a peasant what a cliche love story. Even if he was a genetically modified human in your eyes he was just him, and you were just the perfect normal little human girl.

“Prince Yonji I made cookies today. Would you lik-oh heehee.”, you giggled watching Yonji eat the cookie from your fingers.

His crumb covered lips pressed against your cheek making you smile, but your soft moment together was spoiled by the all to familiar scoff of Lord Judge. The tall giant glared down at you while you sheepishly smiled up and greeted him, Yonji scowled at his Father’s glare and wrapped his arm around your waist protectively.

“Keep moving old man.”, he growled much to Judge’s disgust.

Cosette called you back to the kitchen, you excused yourself hesitating to give Yonji a kiss in front of his father but the green haired man wouldn’t let you leave without a proper kiss. As soon as he got his kiss he let you go, your face flushed red and smiling as you returned to your duties.

“Why you bother with a failure like her irritates me, you deserve a princess not a dirty servant Yonji.”, Judge growled down to his youngest son.

Yonji scoffed in annoyance to his father and simply walked away leaving his father to his own complaints. Judge decided that if you were the one his son wanted then he’d modify you so that you were actually useful to the family. Every night you would come to find Yonji and kiss him goodnight, it was a ritual that he became dependent on but tonight you didn’t show up. Far past midnight sleep was finally beginning to take over his body but he tried to stay awake hoping that you’d just been busy with chores. He woke up angry the next day because of your absence and went to search for you to give you a piece of his mind but no one had seen you. You always presented yourself to work even if you were exhausted or sick meaning something had happened to you. Yonji growled under his breath knowing that his father had something to do with it. One of the doctors appeared before him asking for his presence in the dungeon chambers, Yonji didn’t want to bother with it but his father was waiting for him. Just entering the room he could hear torturous screams resonating from down below, his father must’ve been furious.

“What do you want old man?”

His father simply pointed into one of the screaming cages and smiled, “Now she’s worthy of you. A soldier ready to give her life for you.”, he chuckled.

That’s when Yonji saw it, his eyes widened in shock seeing your blood stained body killing a prisoner. You held the knife above your head ready to kill them but Yonji’s hand caught your wrist as he called your name. You responded but the look in your eyes was enough to tell him what had happened. Cold, lifeless, dead (e/c) eyes, looked into his there was no spark in them anymore.

“What did you do to her!?”, Yonji growled sending his mechanical arm right to his fathers face.

Judge was unimpressed by his son’s rage and pushed his hand away, “Simply made her worthy of you. An annoying woman like her wasn’t fit to be a love interest for one of my precious sons but with her genetic enhancements now she is. Surprisingly she was able to stay sane for about 7 hours before the electrical charges finally fried what little brain cells she had. The only sacrifice was her mental sanity, her emotions, and her heart. She’s the perfect little puppet now.”

Yonji’s face dropped to the news of your torture, he turned to your frozen form and kiss your lips hoping that you’d react, hoping that it wasn’t true but nothing happened. Your cheeks didn’t heat up, your eyes didn’t sparkle with love, you didn’t call his name sweetly, he lost you.

“REVERSE IT! REVERSE THE EFFECTS RIGHT NOW!”, Yonji ordered holding your head softly in his hands.

“She’d really die this time, if we bothered trying. This is how she stays if you want her by your side, once you’re tired of her dispose of her. She’s no longer human she’s just an empty shell.”

Yonji couldn’t believe it, he held you calling your name over and over until you responded but you never did. You never made a noise you were just silent. “N-no...(Y/n)...n-not like this. Please not like this come back to me.”, Yonji pleaded through his tears but from then on it would never be the same.

[coldsandfluff]

Friday Night Fever (F/M, Original, Illness Care-Taking Fluff)

Wrote this little original F/M care-taking fluff fic inspired by something that happened to me when I was in college (basically, caught a cold, three friends came over unannounced and insisted on me coming with them to the bar until one of them noticed the thermometer on my nightstand and realized I really was too sick to go). I've changed all the characters personality/appearance (including myself) so that we are completely unrecognizable, and added more to the story of course 😚

So if you like group of friends, platonic to maybe romantic care-taking fluff and F/M illness, read on!

--------------------------------------------------------------

Annabel left the sandwich shop at the end of her evening shift, feeling the cold autumn air seep through her jacket. Darkness had blanketed the town hours ago, and college students were already filling the streets on their way to the bars to celebrate the end of the week. Not that they’d really needed a reason to drink, of course.

As she launched the trash bags in the large dumpster in the back alley, Annabel felt an uncomfortable shiver running down her back. She’d been feeling under the weather for a couple of days, downing vitamin C fizzy drinks to stave it off. What she’d hoped would end up being a little annoying cold was turning out to be more than she’d bargained for. She could feel the icy tendrils of a fever crawling on her skin, and all she wanted to do was slip under the covers of her warm bed and sleep all weekend.

Her phone pinged as she started making her way back to her apartment.

Finn: We’ll be there in 40 minutes. Zack wants to pick up some pregame vodka from the store first.

Annabel sighed. She’d met Zack, Finn and Alex at her second job—a fancy new restaurant in the heart of town where she’d been waitressing part-time for the past two months. They’d hit it off on opening day, when Zack had accidentally broken a whole stack of plates. No one had seen what had happened but the four of them. Zack had gotten his dishwasher’s apron stuck on the door handle, and his hands had slipped at the sudden pull.

The crash had been deafening.

Right before the owner had rushed in to ask what had happened, Zack’s best friend, Finn, had kicked the wheel of the cart where the plates had been sitting a few moments ago, giving Alexander and Annabel a knowing look.

They’d all told the owner that the cart was broken and had tipped over without anyone touching it. Somehow, the owner had bought the lie. That night, Zack insisted on paying them a round of shots at the bar, and a tradition was born: The four of them. Every Friday. With lots of alcohol.

It was the only time Annabel let loose. With her two jobs and college, she was struggling to find free time, but Friday nights had become sacred. There was nothing like downing drinks and letting the buzz take over, following her three new friends wherever they wanted to go. It was always an adventure. Especially with Zack at the helm.

But tonight, there was no way she could make it.

Annabel: Actually, I can’t come tonight. Sorry.

She walked past a group of friends laughing and hollering, wishing she’d felt as good as they did. But the headache growing behind her eyes wasn’t going to let up, and adding alcohol to the mix would only make it worse. Not only that, but her nose had started running in the past two hours. She’d had to go blow it in the restroom every half hour, getting herself banished from the front of the store by the manager. She’d washed her hands so often that her skin was almost raw.

Just like her nose.

Finn: Nah, you’re coming. Nobody cancels Friday night. Come on.

Annabel couldn’t hold a smile. She typed back, sniffling. Her sinuses were prickling like crazy, as if she’d accidentally inhaled a cloud of tiny fireworks. She stifled a sneeze in the crook of her elbow, mid-word. “Ehh—Ehh’KSHHeeww!” Her eyes watered from the force of it. She wiped the tears away and resumed typing.

Annabel: I’ll make it up to you guys next weekend. Drinks on me.

She grabbed a crumpled tissue from her jacket pocket and dabbed at her nose. Her apartment was only a few blocks away, beckoning her. As she crossed the last stretch of sidewalk to the entrance, she kept checking her phone.

No reply.

Shrugging, she unlocked the front door and took the stairs.

***

Back in her apartment, she made a beeline for the bathroom to the right and used toilet paper to blow her nose, finally free to make as much noise as she wanted. She winced from the roughness of it on her chapped nostrils, but it was all she had. She wasn’t exactly the planning type. Her idea of a grocery list was memorizing the first three items and hoping the rest would come to her as she walked through the aisles. Most often than not, she’d have to make a quick run at the convenience store down the street to get what she’d forgotten.

She gathered her thick curly hair into a bun and looked at herself in the mirror. It was enough to confirm that she’d made the right decision. Her eyes were glazed over, her skin was so pale that her freckles popped like they did in the summer. Except for that slight flush high on her cheeks, of course. She popped a thermometer under her tongue and removed her work clothes, leaving them in a pile in front of the bathtub.

Shivering from the sudden change in temperature, she covered her arms with her hands and ran to her dresser. Her warmest, softest sweater was the first thing she grabbed and put on, before throwing on a pair of comfy leggings and wool socks. The thermometer beeped.

100.8 °F. Figured.

She rolled her eyes and shuffled over to the “kitchen” of her studio apartment, which was the size of a matchbox and only contained a mini fridge, a microwave and an old sink. She poured herself some water and walked over to the bed, placing her glass and the thermometer on her nightstand. She would have brought over medicine as well, but she’d run out last semester after catching the flu going around campus, and had forgotten to replenish her stash. No matter. She could sleep this off. It was just a cold.

She suddenly sneezed twice in a row, as if her body wanted to protest her minimizing her illness, then got under the cover. Just as she was getting a little warmer, propping up her laptop to watch a movie, there was a knock at the door.

Annabel sat up, startled.

“Anna, open up!” a voice said behind the door.

Zack.

Annabel chuckled. Of course they wouldn’t give up that easily. She groaned, getting out of the warmth of her bed. She considered rushing to the dresser and putting on cuter clothes—they were her friends, but they were still boys, and she didn’t want to look like shit in front of them—but the thought of it was enough to drain her energy. Screw it. She walked over to the door and opened it.

“Finn told us you don’t want to come,” said Zack as he walked in. It was her friends’ first time coming up to her apartment. They’d usually wait for her downstairs. “So we’re here to change your mind.” He didn’t look at her, too busy checking out her place. He was dressed for the night—a buttoned-up shirt, navy blazer, jeans and dress shoes. His casual chic style always stood out in the local bars filled with broke college students, but he liked it that way.

Finn walked in after him, a crooked grin on his lips. “See, I told you you can’t cancel Friday night.” His shaggy blond hair half-covered his eyes, as always. Finn and Zack had been best friends since high school, and couldn’t have been more different from each other. At least physically. Finn was tall and lanky, Zack was smaller and worked out a lot. But they were both party guys, always ready for a crazy night—even though Finn was a bit more mellow than Zack.

Finally, Alex came in, and Annabel closed the door behind him. He had a sheepish look on his face, as if apologizing for the other two. He was a lot more like Annabel. Quiet, chill, along for the ride—whatever it may be. His deep brown eyes held her gaze for a second too long, and Annabel noticed one of his eyebrow raise ever so slightly. She bit her lip, feeling self-conscious about her appearance. They’d never seen her in such a state before. Thank god she hadn’t had the energy to remove her makeup yet.

“So this is where you live, uh?” Zack said, sitting on her desk chair and spinning it around and around. “I like it. Dorms suck.”

Before she could reply, Finn tsked. “Wow. So no love for your roommate, uh?”

“Dude, I love you,” Zack said, “but between you and an apartment all to myself, the choice is obvious.” He stopped spinning and turned to Annabel, crossing his arms over his chest. “So what’s so important that you can’t come with us? Do you have a date?”

All three boys turned to her. Annabel almost laughed. Could they not see the condition she was in? She cleared her throat. “No, I’m just not feeling well.”

Finn sat on the edge of her bed and examined her from afar. “Like what? Stomach thing? Flu?”

“Probably a cold, I guess.” Annabel could feel Alex’s gaze on her at her side. She glanced at him, then looked down, feeling silly. Now that she was saying it out loud, it sounded like a poor excuse. But she did have a fever, after all. She just didn’t want to start listing her symptoms.

Zack clasped his hands together. “You know what will make you feel better? Alcohol!” He grinned, as if proud of his solution. “Didn’t they used to give brandy to people when they were sick? We’ll make a special mix for your throat. Something with lemon and orange juice. You’ll be fine.”

“I don’t know, I already have a headache…” Annabel said.

“Just take a couple of Tylenol. It’s like a hangover in advance,” Finn said with an encouraging smile. “One time, I went out clubbing with an ear infection and everything was fine. Actually felt better the next day, weirdly enough.”

“I don’t know guys, I won’t be much fun if—” Annabel was interrupted by a fierce tickle deep in her nose, spreading like wildfire. She ducked to her side, away from Alex. “Ehh’KSSHeeew! ‘KSSSHeeew!”

“Bless you,” the three boys said almost in unison.

“See?” Annabel said, pointing at her nose and sniffling. “You want me to sneeze all over you guys all night?”

Finn shrugged. “We’ll bring tissues. Whatever.”

Alex walked over to the bathroom and grabbed the toilet paper roll from the counter, then handed it to her. “Here.”

Annabel ripped a piece off and wiped her nose. “Thanks,” she said, sheepish.

Alex’s gaze paused on her for a few seconds before he turned to the other two. “Guys, she’s obviously sick. Let’s just go and let her sleep.”

“It’s just a cold,” Zack said. “She’s young and healthy. It’s nothing.” He got up and put his arm around her shoulders. “Come on. Give it an hour, and if you’re not feeling better after a few shots, we’ll walk you home.”

Annabel considered it for a second, trying to fight the shivers. Maybe if she wore something warm and took a few shots, she wouldfeel better. Numb the pain a little, at least. While she pondered it, Finn laid down on top of her bed spread and locked eyes with the thermometer on her nightstand. He frowned and sat up, picking it up.

He looked at her, thermometer in hand. His voice softened. “It’s that bad, uh?”

Annabel blushed. Why did admitting that she had a fever feel so vulnerable? She looked down and nodded. “Kinda.”

Zack looked at the thermometer, then back at Annabel. He narrowed his eyes and put a hand on her forehead. “Ooof,” he said, a hint of concern slipping in his tone.

Finn got up. “Let me see,” he said, walking up to her and placing his own hand on her forehead. His eyebrows shot up. “Yikes.”

“Yeah, you need to be in bed,” Zack finally said, guiding her back to bed. “Why didn’t you say you had a fever? Jesus, Anna.”

She shrugged, sitting on her mattress. “I don’t know. I just get fevers with colds. I guess it’s normal for me.”

“Fevers suck,” Finn said. “Last time I had one, I stayed in bed for two days and everything hurt.” He walked over to the front door. “We’ll miss you tonight, though.”

Zack followed. “Hope you feel better. We’ll text you all the crazy shit that’s going to happen so you don’t miss anything.” He followed Finn out of the apartment, leaving the door open for Alex.

Alex watched them walk by, then grabbed the roll of toilet paper on the counter where Annabel had left it. He brought it over to her nightstand and gave her a sad smile. “Do you need anything?”

Annabel shook her head, relieved that she was going to be able to stay in bed. “I’ll be okay.”

He seemed to hesitate for a second, then nodded. “Let us know if you want us to get you food later. I know I can never sleep when I have a fever.”

“Thank you.” She smiled. Her nose scrunched up, overtaken by another annoying prickle. “Ehh… Iihh’KSSSHHeeww!”

“Bless you.”

Zack’s voice sounded from the hallway. “Alex, you coming?”

Alex snickered. “I guess I should go.” He walked to the door, then turned back. “Feel better, okay?”

“I will. Thanks.”

***

Annabel tried to sleep, but her fever and runny nose kept waking her up, leaving her floating halfway between dreams and reality. It was clear that she wasn’t going to get any rest in her state. She needed cold medicine.

It took her a long time to finally convince herself to get out of bed and go to the convenience store, but she managed to push the covers away and get up. She shivered, causing another tickle in her sensitive nose—it had only gotten worse in the hour since the boys had left. She ducked at the waist in an exhausting triple. “Ehh… Hehh’KSSSHeeeew! ‘KSSHHeeew! Hiihh’KSSHeeew!”

Just then, another knock sounded at the door. Annabel frowned and made her way to the door, cracking it open.

It was Alex. Alone.

“Bless you,” he said with a shy grin.

Annabel let him in. “Aren’t you supposed to be out with the guys?”

He shrugged, closing the door behind him. “I thought you might need this.” He showed her a plastic bag filled with tea, tissue boxes, ramen, cough drops and—she gasped—cold medicine.

Alex chuckled. “So I was right. You don’t have any medicine, do you?”

Annabel laughed. “How did you know?”

“Your nightstand. You only had a thermometer on there. When I’m sick, I take Nyquil everywhere I go.” He handed her the bag. “And I wanted to make sure you had tissues instead of toilet paper. Your nose will thank me.”

Annabel touched her chapped nose, smiling. “That’s so sweet of you. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.” He stood there for a second, as if not knowing what to say. “I’ll uh—I’ll let you rest.”

Before he could go, Annabel put her hand on his elbow. “Wait. Do you want to—” She stopped halfway through her sentence, her nose scrunching up yet again, her eyes fluttering. She spun around and sneezed, covering her nose with the sleeve of her sweater. “Hehh’KSSHH! Ht’Ksshht!” She turned back around, blinking away the tears and laughing. “Sorry!”

Alex laughed, too. “Bless you.” He held her gaze, then looked down. “What were you going to say?”

“Oh—I was just wondering if—maybe if you’d like to watch a movie with me. I don’t think I can sleep until the medicine kicks in.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted saying them. Of course he didn’t want to watch a movie with her. This was Friday night. What kind of college guy wanted to hang out with a sick, sneezy, nose-drippy girl on a Friday night instead of getting drunk with his friends. “Sorry,” she added quickly, “I forgot that the guys are probably waiting for you. I guess I’m kind of loopy from the fever.”

Alex took a step forward and placed his hand on her forehead. The gesture was so gentle, so soft, that Annabel closed her eyes, appreciating the coldness of his palm on her hot skin.

“You are definitely burning up,” he half-whispered, frowning. “I was wondering if the guys were exaggerating. Guess not.”

Annabel bit her lip. “I’ll be okay after I take the medicine. You don’t have to stay.”

Alex removed his hand. “I do,” he blurted. “I mean, I do want to watch a movie with you. And stay.”

“Are you sure?” Annabel asked through her blossoming smile. “Aren’t you worried you’ll catch my cold?”

“Actually, I have a confession to make.” Alex led her to the bed and placed the content of his bag on her nightstand. “Last Friday, I kind of had a cold. It wasn’t as bad as yours, pretty minor, but… Zack convinced me to come out anyway and I—I think I might have given it to you. You drank out of my glass and I didn’t have time to stop you.” He looked at her, his eyes wide with guilt. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Annabel laughed. “I can’t believe Zack didn’t rat you out earlier. It would have been the perfect example of someone going clubbing with a cold and ‘being fine’ anyway.”

“He probably knew it was partly his fault that you’re sick and didn’t want to admit it.”

Annabel shook her head. “Well, you owe me a Friday night.” She got into bed and patted the spot next to her. “That means I get to pick the movies.”

Alex grabbed the throw blanket at her feet and draped it over her. “That sounds fair.” He walked over to the other side of the bed and settled next to her. “But when you fall asleep, I can’t guarantee I won’t change it.”

“Deal.”

After taking a dose of Nyquil, Annabel started the movie, snuggling under the blanket. She wondered what kind of crazy adventures Zack and Finn were getting themselves into. She expected to feel FOMO, but instead, she shot a glance at Alex next to her, and realized she wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

Maybe it was the fever, or maybe it was Alex’s shoulder touching hers, but it felt like this was the start of a different kind of adventure. Maybe not alcohol-fueled, but Nyquil was pretty close.

All because they’d shared a not-so-secret cold.

And Annabel had a feeling it would be worth the fever. And the countless sneezes to come.

THE END

[mrs-daddyissues]

considerably

~ C H A P T E R  7 ~

~ Masterlist ~

Pairing: Alfred Pennyworth x OFC

Series Summary: Sarabi Nichols is Bruce Wayne’s life long friend that aids in creating weaponry and making outfits. When she was younger she had a thing for Bruce but now her taste has aged. Considerably. Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce’s guardian and butler is more her style now. Despite this knew found liking, Sarabi feels trapped. She can’t talk to Bruce about it and clearly can’t mention it to Alfred. The only person she has is her best friend, Claudia. Sarabi has to fight the things she feels for the older man because he could never feel the same way back, right?

{Normal} Playlist

{Slowed+Reverb} Playlist

Warnings: Sexual innuendo, swearing

Word Count: 4019

Author’s Note:

In this chapter a classic DC character appears (they won’t be a recurring character, just a little nod). I want to preface this by saying I do not own the rights to that character and have also changed their backstory slightly. There’s also a couple of references to previous Batman films. One other thing, I am returning to work in the next few days and that means that my posting schedule with be much less consistent, sorry. Also apologies this chapter’s a bit long but still, I hope you enjoy!

The process of getting Sarabi and Claudia ready for the gala was both stressful and relaxing at the same time. The whole operation took at least 7 hours and the gala started at 7, so they had 9 hours from the time they got up.

It started with the two girls cleaning Sarabi’s bed from all of Sarabi’s previous experiences. They then had a warm bubble bath each and Claudia instructed Sarabi to scrub every inch of her skin.

The two girls then got dressed in simple clothing and Bruce welcomed in his private spa technicians. The lady was named Frida and she had a sidekick Jonathan that was in training. Claudia planned to get Jonathan’s number before quickly realising he was much more interested in Bruce. Sarabi had to hold in her giggles at Claudia’s disappointed face.

Sarabi and Claudia both got their nails done, Claudia’s a dusty sand colour and Sarabi’s a deep red. They each got every follicle of hair removed from their bodies and then a cleansing facial. 

After the spa part was taken care of, they bid farewell to Frida and Jonathan and had lunch. It was already 1 o’clock and Bruce was busy looking over the final decor for the mansion. 

Sarabi’s mind had been completely distracted from Alfred with everything that had been going on but as soon as she and Claudia stepped foot in the dining room it all came back to her. Alfred wore an apron over his clothes as he dished up their lunches. Sarabi’s heart started beating so fast like a rabbit running from a fox. Claudia noticed her sudden behaviour change and tapped her shoulder.

“Relax girl, I’m right here,” Claudia assured her as the two sat down.

“Thank you, Alfred, this looks amazing,” Claudia’s mouth practically watered at the display in front of her. Claudia rarely got treats like this and she worshipped Alfred’s cooking as much as Sarabi.

“Thanks, Alfred,” Sarabi then dug into her plate of pasta.

“You are more than welcome, ladies. If you need me I’ll be in the ballroom. Master Wayne is being the picky bastard that he is,” Alfred dissed Bruce and Sarabi couldn’t help but laugh.

“Alfred!” Bruce’s voice screamed and Sarabi rolled her eyes. His voice was so whiny and loud. He was clearly stressed because of this gala.

“Master Wayne, I’m coming! Calm the hell down!” Alfred yelled back before turning back the women.

“See what I have to deal with?” Alfred fixed his glasses before rushing off to Bruce.

“Thanks again, Alfred,” Sarabi commented to his retreating form.

“My pleasure,” Alfred turned his head around, bowed slightly and ran off to the ballroom as Bruce continued shouting the house down.

Sarabi gaped after Alfred and kept looking at where he had been just a few seconds before.

“Sarabi!" Claudia waved a hand in front of her zoned out face to get her attention.

“Wow, you must really be in love,” Claudia commented and Sarabi snapped her attention back to her.

“I am not in love. I am infatuated,” Sarabi corrected but couldn’t meet Claudia’s gaze. Sarabi didn’t know if she was in love. 

Whenever she saw Alfred her breath came out heavier and her heartbeat quickened. She also became immediately turned on without him needing to do anything. She had no idea what it was she was feeling but she didn’t think it was just lust now.

“No darling, infatuation is short-lived, this has been going on for way too long to just be an infatuation,” Claudia explained with a shoulder shrug.

“Right now it doesn’t matter. Tonight you’re gonna blow him away and maybe get some, you never know,” Claudia beamed as she spoke and Sarabi’s body filled with hope.

“Who knows?” Sarabi finished up her pasta and the two girls talked for longer than they should have. They only had about 5 hours to get the rest of their looks put together and knowing Claudia, she’d take all the time she could get.

It was a good decision on Claudia’s part to start getting ready at 10 o’clock as makeup and hair, on both of them, took a collective 4 hours. Sarabi still can’t believe she sat there for 2 and a half hours while Claudia fussed over what the hairstylist and makeup artist should do. Claudia ended up having her hair parted on the right and curled lightly. She also placed it on her left shoulder. She looked effortlessly and classically beautiful. Claudia had such a unique and model-like look, it was astounding. Claudia also wore more very simple makeup with some golden shimmer on her eyes.

Sarabi was much less fussy about her look but Claudia made up for it by fussing for her. She said it had to be perfect and nothing short of it. Sarabi opted to have her naturally curly hair but part it the same as Claudia. She also had very light makeup but decided to wear a deep red lip to go with her dress. 

Once their hair and makeup were done, it was time for the outfits to come together. It was 6:30 and Claudia planned for the two of them to be fashionably late. Claudia had this all planned out like it was a spy mission.

“I’m gonna go down first and find Bruce and Alfred. I’ll tell them that you should be down any minute and then there you are. You come down that staircase like you own the joint, which you will,” Claudia further reiterated her point with large hand motions.

“Don’t you wanna walk down together?” Sarabi asked, confused. She thought they’d be much more powerful together.

“No, because how will we know if Alfred is watching? You need him to be watching. Cause once he sees you and your assets, he’ll swoon,” Claudia reassured as she stepped into her dress. Sarabi helped her pull it up and was stunned by Claudia’s effortless beauty. The dress Claudia wore was gorgeous. It was a golden, spaghetti-strapped Jovani gown with a sweetheart neckline. 

“Wow, I look hot but not as hot as you. Let’s get you dressed,” Claudia spun around quickly before picking up Sarabi’s gown.

“Holy shit! You’re gonna look so hot,” Claudia assisted Sarabi in getting the dress on and Claudia’s mouth dropped. Her eyes bugged out and she gasped.

“Sarbi! You look stunning! You look perfect,” Claudia moved aside so she could peer in the mirror and Sarabi didn’t even recognise herself. It was a Lora tight-fitting, multiway red gown that accentuated her silhouette. She sported it with both straps coming straight down over her breasts and there was a small court train behind her. It was made of satin and shone in the light.

“Fuck! I do,” Sarabi marvelled at how extraordinary she looked.

“How are we doing for time?” Sarabi asked as the nerves started building up again. She was anxious to impress Alfred but was also scared about the other men and how they’d drool over her.

“Gala just started,” and just as Claudia answered, a large bout of laughter filled the house.

“There they are,” Sarabi put on her silver diamond high heels and her silver necklace with an eye-catching ruby in the centre. She also put on her matching earrings while Claudia put on her limited accessories. 

The two girls turned and looked at each other. They nodded which was a mutual sign of their readiness to steal the spotlight. 

They waited for a while, just doing small touch-ups here and there.

“It is now 7:14, in about 5 minutes or so I’ll text you to walk down. Good luck, you’ll rock it,” Claudia gave her a large hug before walking down to the party.

Sarabi could feel the nerves gradually build up as she stood there waiting for her text. She hated living to impress a man but this was the only reason she was there. She wanted Alfred to feel the same things she had been feeling for the past weeks. For Alfred, she made an exception. She was going to this gala for one thing and one thing only, to impress a man.

Just then she got a text from Claudia.

They’re ready. I requested this song by the way. Steal the show xx

Sarabi could hear Feeling Good by Michael Bublé start playing and she snickered. Claudia stood by the fact that walking to this song screamed power and Sarabi didn’t disagree.

Sarabi made her way to the staircase and peered around the corner. She could see a clear path from the top of the stairs of Wayne Manor to Claudia, Bruce and Alfred’s spot in the ballroom. 

Sarabi’s breath caught in her throat when her eyes spotted Alfred. He was dressed in a simple black and white suit with a red and black bow tie. Even though it was simple, he made it look like the most sophisticated and classy thing on the planet. 

She breathed out heavily and then harnessed all the sexual feelings she had for Alfred. She used these to fuel her confidence as she made her way to the top of the stairs. She leant into her right hip and looked around the ballroom with her head held high. She noticed the many men and women who turned to look at her. 

Sarabi’s skin glowed under the chandelier and the satin of her dress gleamed with it. She looked ethereal, like a Greek goddess but also dangerous, like a vampire or siren looking to capture the hearts and souls of men. She looked and walked like a seductress. But there was only one man on her mind and she locked eyes with him as she stalked down the stairs slowly, deliberately. 

Every man and woman in the room watched her make her way down the grand staircase. The song, her outfit, everything about her was exquisite, graceful and demanding. She commanded the attention of everybody in the room and those who were facing the other way felt the sudden urge to turn around as well. Each step she took, another head turned in her direction until every person was under her spell. Sarabi loved the power she had and enjoyed how each person was lost for words.

Alfred also couldn’t take his eyes off Sarabi and it seemed like he was caught in a whirlpool, not being able to pull himself out of her grasp. His jaw dropped as she looked at him with the same intensity. Alfred always found Sarabi beautiful, she was easily one of the most attractive women he had ever laid eyes on but tonight she blew all the competition out of the park. She looked powerful, dangerous and dominant. Alfred was hexed by her and trapped in her spell. She was a sweet siren singing a song in the water and he had followed her in and drowned. He had drowned in her beauty and had no complaints whatsoever. She held all the power over him and he let her take up all the room in his mind. 

Alfred felt nervous but excited as she strutted towards him slowly, knowing exactly what she did to him. Sarabi revelled in the power she had other Alfred at this moment. She could see the way he licked his lips and watched her intently with his deeply inquisitive brown eyes. 

“Sarbi, my God you look beautiful,” Bruce commented, handing her a champagne glass. 

“Thanks, Bruce. You look like shit,” Sarabi joked while taking a sip of the champagne.

“Just kidding, you look amazing as always,” Sarabi exaggerated her movements and Bruce scrunched up his nose mockingly. 

Sarabi looked at Alfred and watched his eyes look over her body carefully. He didn’t miss an inch of her, he took in every little bit. Sarabi had her intended effect as Alfred’s tongue tied itself into knots. He didn’t know what to say but when his eyes made their way back to Sarabi’s, she smirked and Alfred blushed lightly. ‘She caught me!’ Alfred thought as he panicked internally. 

“Miss Nichols, you look stunning,” Alfred was hypnotised by her very being and Sarabi smirked brightly but could feel her mouth go dry at his compliment.

“Thank you, Alfred. You look good yourself,” Sarabi commented, snatching all the breath from his lungs. Alfred nodded quickly before downing the rest of his drink.

“Thank you, Miss Nichols,” he croaked out quickly before grabbing another glass of champagne.

“Sarbi, you have taken the words from my mouth. Sarabi, the light of my life, fire of my loins,” Claudia quoted as Sarabi chuckled.

“Claudia, what the hell are you even saying?” Sarabi looked at Claudia but kept an eye on Alfred. He was still transfixed and trying to gain his urbane, charming persona again.

“It’s from the book I’m reading but you look hot as hell,” Claudia gave her the flattering remark as she also finished her drink. 

“Thanks, Claudia, you have set fire to my loins as well,” Sarabi laughed with Claudia at her misquote.

“I think you’ve set fire to a certain somebody’s loins,” Claudia observed as she whispered to Sarabi.

“Shut up,” Sarabi blushed at the thought of Alfred being turned on by her but she knew it had to be true. Nobody acts like Alfred just did if they weren’t turned on to some extent. 

“Ma’am, would you care to dance with me?” A man asked from behind Sarabi. She turned around and nearly choked on her champagne. It was some old, balding man with a beer gut. He wore a simple suit and reeked of way too much cologne. He wore even more than Bruce.

Sarabi looked back at Claudia for help. She had been at the gala for less than 5 minutes and the men in the building were already asking her to dance. Claudia gestured with her head and gave a small thumbs up. Sarabi cringed but turned back to the man with a smile. She looked Alfred’s way and noticed the way his jaw clenched.

“Of course,” Sarabi took his hand as he led her out to the dance floor.

While they danced he asked a million questions. He asked how old she was, what she did for a living, how she knew Bruce and so forth. He was the most boring man on the planet but Sarabi didn’t want to piss him off.

“Do you mind if I step in?” A younger man around Sarabi’s age questioned and the older man pulled Sarabi closer to him. This man was tall and skinny with pale skin. He wore a green suit with black gloves and a pair of thick-rimmed glasses. From the suit alone Sarabi could tell he was eccentric and would fit right with Claudia. He wasn’t bad looking, just not her type.

“Can’t you see we’re busy,” the older man stated and Sarabi pursed her lips in annoyance. This younger man noticed that and put a hand on the man’s shoulder.

“I think it’s time for the lady to move on,” the younger man was persistent and grabbed Sarabi’s waist and pulled her away.

“Fine, you can have her anyways,” the older man walked off defeated and Sarabi started dancing with the young man.

“Edward Nygma, and you are?” Edward asked with a kind smile.

“Sarabi Nichols, nice to meet you,” Sarabi thought the man was cute but her eyes were set on another man.

They danced around the floor and Edward kept his hand chastely on her waist, unlike the old man who tried countless times to move it lower. He seemed gentlemanly enough but something about those dark eyes said otherwise.

“You definitely know how to catch people’s attention, don’t you Sarabi?” Edward queried as Sarabi caught sight of Alfred. He looked mad in every way. His jaw was still clenched and he grasped his champagne glass so hard in his hand it might smash. ‘He’s jealous,’ Sarabi celebrated in her head as Alfred kept a stern eye on her and Edward.

“I clearly caught yours,” Sarabi commented quickly and Edward smirked at the snark response.

“I actually wanted to ask about your friend there in the gold dress,” Edward moved his head to the side and Sarabi smiled knowingly. 

“Ah yes, Claudia Flynn her name is, I think she’d like you too,” Sarabi was glad to set up Edward with her bestie but she wanted something from him too.

“Do you think you could introduce me?” Edward looked Claudia’s way and Sarabi watched his eyes glinted with lust.

“Most certainly but I need you to do something for me first,” Sarabi smiled as Claudia looked bored out of her mind.

“Within reason, what is it, Sarabi?” Edward was a much better dancer than the older man from before. He had at least some rhythm that Sarabi could easily keep up with. 

“There is a man in here I have my eyes on and I want you to help me-”

“Make him jealous? Easy,” Edward finished her sentence and Sarabi nodded.

“Are we in his eye-line?” Edward inquired and Sarabi gave him another nod.

“Move your hand lower,” Sarabi demanded and Edward complied, moving his hand close to her butt. Sarabi glanced at Alfred and if he were a cartoon steam would be blowing from his ears. Sarabi loved having the switch flipped for the night where he was the one having trouble controlling his feelings. 

“Move closer to me,” Sarabi pulled him in until their bodies were practically rubbing against each other. To an onlooker, they looked like they were having a very sensual moment and Alfred was one of them.

They danced like this for a while until Sarabi took it a step further by locking eyes with Alfred. While she looked in his eyes, she whispered something in Edward’s ear.

“It’s working, thank you,” Sarabi made it look much more sybaritic than it actually was, brushing her blood-red lips against his ear.

“No problem as long as I get to meet, Claudia,” Edward whispered back and Sarabi gave a light giggle.

“I’m guessing that was for him?” Edward asked, slightly confused.

“Yeah, I’m gonna pretend you’re saying something really funny,” Sarabi started laughing uproariously while a man started talking to Alfred. 

She watched gleefully as Alfred tried to keep his attention on the man he was talking to. Sarabi’s orbs locked with his and she let them do all the talking. She hoped that Alfred would get what she was trying to get across and from his loss of exasperation and now just desire, she was pretty sure he did. She looked away before she got trapped in their beauty.

“It worked, let me introduce you,” Sarabi grabbed his hand and led him over to Claudia who’s eyes bugged out.

“Claudia Flynn meet Edward Nygma, Edward meet Claudia,” Sarabi introduced the two and gave a wink to Claudia.

“I’ll let you guys get acquainted,” Sarabi added cheekily before letting them talk to each other.

Sarabi stepped away with a large grin. She hoped Claudia had some fun tonight. Sarabi then felt a light tap on her shoulder. She turned around to find Alfred standing there with his calm and collected charisma back. 

“Would you care to dance, Miss Nichols?” Alfred held his hand out for her and she took it gratefully.

“It would be my pleasure, Alfred,” Sarabi let Alfred lead her onto the dance floor. He pulled her in so quickly it stole the breath from her lungs. Their chests touched as Alfred placed his right hand dangerously low on her hip and held her right hand out to the side. Sarabi wrapped her left hand around his shoulder as they waltzed to the beautiful melody playing from the band. 

“You seemed mad before, Alfred, do you not like Mr Nygma?” Sarabi asked with the right amount of sarcasm to tease him.

“No I do not like Mr Nygma, he is not a good person. I don’t think he’d be very good for you,” Alfred responded staring directly into her eyes. The eye contact made Sarabi’s insides churn with desire. This desire directly manifested itself in her eyes for Alfred, and only Alfred, to see.

“And how do you know which boys are good for me?” Sarabi held the bait over his head hoping he would jump and take it. It was fun to tease Alfred and she wanted to see him crack.

“I know a lot of things, Miss Nichols, I am incredibly experienced,” Alfred whispered down into her ear, his breath trailing goosebumps down her neck.

“Is that so? Well, what was wrong with that handsome Edward Nygma boy?” Sarabi interrogated, hoping that Alfred would whisk her away to her bedroom and ruin her. The thought of Alfred defiling her as he did in her dreams made her core pulse with need. She was trying to regain control but was slowly being pulled towards Alfred’s magnetic force field.

“He used to work for Gotham P.D. as a forensic scientist before he got fired for hiding evidence. He served a small sentence and now is some sort of scientist. He’s suspicious and untrustworthy,” Alfred elucidated as he whisked her around the dance floor. 

“Well I thought he was quite charming,” Sarabi lied through her teeth. Edward was nice but not that charming, she just wanted to push Alfred’s buttons.

“Well you seemed a bit distracted and it wasn’t by his charm, was it?” Alfred spun Sarabi out and back into his chest. Sarabi nearly whimpered at the control Alfred was exerting over her but she kept it under wraps. His manhandling was exciting her more than she expected.

Just as she thought her body couldn’t heat up anymore, the music changed to a Latin beat.

“The tango, my favourite kind of dance,” Sarabi added with a hint of sultry before wrapping her leg around his and bending her back. She swung around until she came back up to meet his eyes, fired up with passion.

“I quite like tango as well, Miss Nichols, do you know how to do it properly?” Alfred squeezed her hip tighter as he moved them faster around the dance floor.

“I have taken some classes, though I heard it’s pretty hard, I didn’t do too badly,” Sarabi answered while Alfred spun her around with the expertise of a professional dancer.

“Have you done this before, Alfred?” Sarabi inquired curiously. She never took Alfred as the dancing type but by the way he moved, he must have some sort of background.

“Oh many times, Miss Nichols but I do have to admit I’m a bit rusty,” Alfred confessed while dancing so well that the other dancers started taking notice.

Alfred and Sarabi continued the sensual dancing they were doing. Their bodies moved with the perfect fluidity like they had done it many times before. Their bodies moulded together on the dance floor like they were made for each other. The dance was making Sarabi feel elated beyond compare. She was finally having a passionate moment with Alfred, even if they were just dancing. 

The music came to a stop, disappointing both Sarabi and Alfred. They both wanted this moment to last forever, having never shared something so hedonistic and lascivious. Alfred, being the gentleman he was, grabbed her hand and led her away from the crowd of men waiting to ask her to dance.

“Not too hard is it?” Alfred teased as he handed a champagne glass to Sarabi with a sly smirk. She took a sip and slowly and seductively wiped her lips clean. She watched as Alfred’s eyes flickered to her lips and a surge of yearning filled them. Sarabi knew what her next play was so she looked down to his crotch and slowly back to his eyes, making sure he saw her look. She moved closer and placed her lips next to his ear.

“Semi-hard I’d say,” Sarabi teased back with a lecherous wink before walking away, adding an extra sway to her hips. Which left Alfred in a puddle of confusion, frustration and lust.

<<CHAPTER 6<<  ~ ~ ~  >>CHAPTER 8>>

[yourfaceislikeabluemoon]

You’re Gonna Be the Death of Me, I Swear

Words: 9.7k

Warning: A decent amount of language throughout with the majority in the last scene, kissing (starts out fairly innocent but gets raunchier as the fic progresses), teacher/student roleplay if you squint, Changbin calls Hyunjin pup/puppy, grinding but barely, brief mentions of jacking off, just a hint of angst, crying and apologies, marking/love bites, praise (they both clearly have praise kinks but it’s never explicitly mentioned), brief nipple play/licking/biting, blowjob, frottage (Changbin jerks them off at the same time), lots of dirty talk, Hyunjin has a filthy mouth but is also a whiny baby, cum play/eating, spanking, ass eating, fingering, very brief degradation, barebacking (practice safe sex y’all), cumming inside, and brief innuendos.

A/N: hey, I’m back with another member x member fic! this one is a lot dirtier than the last one oops 🤭 Changjin has been living in my mind rent free this entire comeback so I just had to write something and ‘Kissing Practice’ is one of my favorite tropes and so this filth was born! so yeah, my brain has actually been coming up with ideas lately, which is basically a miracle considering the wasteland it was for 6+ months straight. as always, I hope you enjoy this and please let me know what you think! it really motivates me to write more and I appreciate every single one of you that takes time out of their day to read what I write, thank you so so much! oki enjoy hehe ❤

“Forget it. It’s stupid, I know. Forget I even asked.”

“No, wait!” Changbin called after Hyunjin, who had stood up from his spot on the couch to head off to his room. Hyunjin sighed tiredly and turned back around to face his older groupmate. “Why me?”

Eyebrows knit together, Hyunjin returned to his space next to Changbin. “Why not you?”

Bin let out a broken noise, trying to formulate his words properly, “No, I mean why not Chan or Minho? Why was I the hyung you came to?” When Hyunjin’s expression morphed into that of an abandoned puppy, Changbin held up his hands, “Not that I don’t want to help you! You know I’ll always help you when you ask-- and, and I’m not trying to get out of it or anything. Just, why me? Wouldn’t Chan be better at this sort of thing? I don’t know, seniority or something.”

Hyunjin chuckled at Bin’s babbling, shaking his head as he looked down at his own lap. “First of all, I’m scared of Minho.” Changbin couldn’t hold back his laughter and Hyunjin shrugged but laughed along with him. “Second, everyone but Felix knows Chan’s been pining after Felix for years and I don’t want to feel like a homewrecker even though feelings aren’t attached, you know?”

“Good point. Chan needs to grow a pair, honestly. Like what’s the worst that could happen? Felix giggles at him?” Bin let a rush of air out of his nose at the image that popped into his head before turning back to a grinning Hyunjin who was nodding in agreement.

“Yeah,” the younger continued, “So as you can see, that leaves me with one hyung. You.”

Changbin gave him an unamused look, “So I’m a last resort.”

Hyunjin shook his head again, a faint blush appearing on his cheeks. “No, you’re really not. You’re the one that likes my lips so much. I figured you’d be the one who wouldn’t feel completely tortured if you went along with my proposal. Maybe you wouldn’t mind it. I was probably wrong in assuming that. I’m sorry.”

“You aren’t wrong,” Bin denied adamantly. Realizing how eager he sounded, he quickly calmed himself down and cleared his throat. “Everyone thinks you have nice lips, not just me.”

Leaning a bit closer, Hyunjin lowered his voice, “I think you like them more than the others do, though.”

Changbin gulped but tried to look casual, “Maybe I do.”

“Then, what do you say?” Hyunjin tilted his head and stared at the elder with interest, wide-eyed and waiting.

Bin couldn’t make eye contact. He stared at an empty soda can sitting on the coffee table as thoughts whirled around in his head like a tornado. Should he say ‘yes’? Would he be risking everything he had worked so hard to conceal? Was this bound to end in disaster if he went along with it?

He bit the bullet.

“OK.”

~

The thing is, Hyunjin’s ‘proposal’ wasn’t exactly expected, to say the least. Essentially, Hyunjin had sought out Changbin in order to ask him to be the one to teach the younger how to kiss. He claimed that he had no experience and didn’t know how; he didn’t want to be a total fuck up when the time came around where he needed this particular skill. So, he decided to ask one of his hyungs for help, to teach him, and to help him practice.

Changbin was, quite honestly, flabbergasted. The prettiest human being he had ever had the privilege of observing was telling him that they had no experience and was asking him for lessons in the form of basically making out. There was a teeny tiny red flag that shot up in the back of Changbin’s mind as he processed Hyunjin’s ‘proposal’, but apparently it wasn’t enough of a deterrent to keep his emotions from controlling his decision-making because he agreed to it without much persuasion. Changbin was determined that, in the end, Hyunjin would not be a total fuck up when it came to kissing, even if that meant he had to put himself through hell trying to keep his feelings out of the equation.

~

Hyunjin admittedly felt a little guilty when he plopped down on Changbin’s bed a couple days later and asked, “So, is it time for my first lesson yet?”

He had been wanting to kiss Changbin pretty much since the moment they met. Lying about not having experience and needing help was the strategy he had finally brainstormed to get his way. He had the smallest hint of feeling like he would regret this idea but he blamed Changbin and his doll lips for ultimately giving into temptation.

The older swiveled around in his desk chair to face Hyunjin. “I suppose. But are you sure you want me to be your first kiss?”

Hyunjin coughed and tripped over his own words, “It-it’s just p-practice! It doesn’t really c-count as the-the-as the real thing!”

Changbin gently smiled at him but Hyunjin couldn’t tell if the flash in his eyes was of pain or pity. He decided to ignore it since neither would make him feel any better. Changbin was about to push himself out of his chair but Hyunjin stopped him, “Um, I’ll-I’ll come over there.”

The sudden raise of his eyebrows gave away the fact that Changbin was somewhat startled by Hyunjin’s statement but he nodded curtly as permission, “Whatever you’re comfortable with.” He relaxed back into his chair as Hyunjin shyly made his way over. The younger stopped about a foot away from Changbin’s knees and gulped, genuinely nervous as hell.

“So, should I just…” Hyunjin didn’t know if he was supposed to wait for instruction or if he was meant to just dive in. Changbin raised a brow, challenging this time, and waited to see if Hyunjin really would make the first move. Sure enough, he stepped slightly closer, let out a quick breath, and leaned forward, placing a hand on each armrest before quickly pecking Changbin’s lips. “There. How was that?”

Changbin’s brain took a moment to process the question, eventually coming to the conclusion that teasing would prompt the most favorable outcome a.k.a. Hyunjin pouting in frustration. “How was what?”

Bingo. Hyunjin huffed angrily, brows knitted together and lips pushed out in the anticipated pout. He balled his fists at his sides and slowly unclenched them. Leaning back in, he placed a slightly longer peck on Changbin’s lips but retreated just as fast as the first time. He gestured sharply, “That.”

“That?” Changbin asked, pointing at his own lips. Hyunjin inclined his head and his expression could only read ‘duh’. “That wasn’t a kiss.”

A fire lit behind Hyunjin’s eyes and he snarled, “Then what, Seonsaengnim, is?”

Changbin smirked daringly and patted his thigh, “Take a seat, haksaeng.”

Hyunjin matched the older’s smirk and, licking his lips seductively, he eased himself into Changbin’s lap, one thick thigh on either side. It was a little awkward in the desk chair but something about squeezing in so close together made it all the more thrilling. Changbin’s hands immediately found the younger’s hips, earning a shiver when he gripped at them roughly.

The elder was completely calm, steely gaze wandering Hyunjin’s features while Hyunjin felt just as inexperienced as he was pretending to be, panting already. Bin slid his hand up Hyunjin’s side to rest his pointer finger under his chin. The pad of his thumb pressed into the younger’s plush lower lip as he gently guided him forward. Hyunjin obediently let himself be pulled closer, eyes slipping closed at the delicate touch.

When Changbin slotted their lips together, he felt Hyunjin instantly melt into him and he resisted the urge to grin at his silent victory. He pulled back with a soft smacking noise before pressing his lips to Hyunjin’s again. After a few careful, sweet kisses to start off, the older drew back and looked at the boy in his lap who was chasing his lips with his eyes still closed. Changbin let out a quiet chuckle, “Eager puppy.”

Hyunjin whined and pouted again, eyes finally opening to look at Changbin. “Feels nice,” he mumbled under his breath as he glanced off to the side, somewhat embarrassed to make too much eye contact.

Bin hummed, “That’s nothing. Wanted to start you off easy though. Didn’t want to rush you at the very start.” He caressed the side of his face, thumb running over the soft skin of Hyunjin’s cheekbone before something in his brain alerted him that he was letting his feelings bleed in and he jerked his hand back suddenly.

Hyunjin tilted his head, expression rather confused, but Changbin covered up the awkwardness by forcing a smile. “Your turn.” The younger looked even more confused and Bin chuckled, “It’s pop quiz time. Show me what you’ve learned so far.”

“Already?” Hyunjin asked, dumbfounded. A light blush began to tint his cheeks. “Kinda lost focus,” he admitted. “I don’t really remember what to do.”

Bin smiled genuinely, “Just do your best, pup.”

Hyunjin’s blush deepened at the nickname and he took a deep breath before hesitantly reaching up to rest his fingertips against Changbin’s jawline and leaned in. He fit their lips together just like Bin had done earlier, dragging away and pressing in again and again.

When he withdrew, Changbin was a little flushed and Hyunjin felt a jolt of happiness rush through him because that was from him. He grinned, “How was that?”

Bin scoffed jokingly, “‘Don’t really remember’, my ass!”

The younger blushed again and his gaze fell to his hands in his lap where he was picking at loose skin around his fingernail.

“It was much better, Jinnie. You did well.” Hyunjin glanced up at Changbin’s praise and smiled gratefully. “But I think that’s enough learning for today.”

Hyujin shook his head adamantly and pouted again, “Just one more lesson. Please, Binnie hyung?”

Changbin’s laugh was bright and teasing, “You like kissing that much already?”

The younger bit at his lip and glanced away before looking back at Bin and nodded shyly. He really, really, really liked it, especially if it was with Changbin; he wasn’t going to admit that out loud.

Changbin sighed, feigning reluctance, but he couldn’t help but grin, “Alright. You know I can’t say no to those puppy dog eyes of yours.”

Hyunjin lit up and bounced slightly in Bin’s lap, wrapping his arms around his neck as he settled comfortably. Changbin’s hands were back on his hips and he nodded at the younger, “C’mere.”

Giggling, Hyunjin leaned in once again and voluntarily initiated the kiss, letting Bin take the lead after he had left a few sweet pecks on his lips. Changbin fluidly moved their lips together and, without noticing in order to stop himself, Hyunjin ‘caught on’ rather quickly. He lost himself in Changbin’s pretty doll lips, his warmth, the scent of his skin, in Changbin. Hyunjin’s fingers found the hair at Bin’s nape and he tangled them in the soft strands while the older’s arms wound around his waist, drawing him in even closer.

Changbin didn’t let the kiss get too dirty or passionate but he knew it felt right, Hyunjin in his lap holding onto him for dear life, tugging at his hair, squeezing in as close as possible. The older pulled away begrudgingly and Hyunjin chased his lips again, causing Bin to chuckle at him despite his own labored breathing. “That’s enough, pup.” Hyunjin pouted once more and slouched in disappointment. “You’re a fast learner, aren’t you, Jinnie?”

The younger hummed appreciatively, “I’m learning from the best.”

Bin rolled his eyes and let out a huff of air in his amusement. “How do you know I’m the best, Mr. I Have No Experience?”

“Shh,” Hyunjin hushed him with a long, slender finger faintly resting against Changbin’s rose tinted lips. “I just know.” A glint of mischief flashed in his eyes and he bit at his bottom lip before giggling again. He tried as gracefully as he could to stand up but his legs were admittedly a little wobbly. Hyunjin just laughed at himself and shrugged, “Well, I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing before I bothered you.”

Changbin furrowed his brow. “You didn’t bother me, Hyunjin. I’m, uhh,” he cleared his throat, “I’m happy to help.”

Hyunjin smiled warmly and leaned down to press another kiss to his hyung’s lips. “Thank you, Binnie hyung,” he whispered against them before pulling away and leaving Changbin’s bedroom, softly shutting the door behind himself.

Bin sat staring after him for who knows how many minutes, lost in thought and missing the warmth of Hyunjin in his lap. He sighed deeply. He simply wanted what he just couldn’t have and he had to convince himself to bury those feelings. He was going to regret this, he could feel it in his bones.

The younger leaned his back against the door and stared off into space wondering why he even started this whole thing, why he didn’t just tell Changbin the truth and admit his feelings from the start. Guilt swam in his stomach like churning waves and he felt tears prick at his eyes. Hyunjin gulped and blinked them away, taking a deep breath before heading off to distract himself somehow.

~

“Is this ok?” Hyunjin asked tentatively as he eased down onto Changbin’s lap.

Bin chuckled, “This seems to be your favorite spot lately.” When the younger blushed and shied away, Changbin smiled warmly and rested his hands on Hyunjin’s hips, “As long as you're comfortable, I’m fine.”

Biting his lip, Hyunjin glanced at the couch cushion next to them and cleared his throat. “So what’s lesson three, or whatever number we’re on?”

The elder smirked, “I know you’ve been keeping track, pup. You can’t fool me.” Changbin swore he saw Hyunjin’s eye twitch and a flash of agony wash over his face and leave as quickly as it came, but he chose to ignore it and ghosted his hands up and down the sides of the boy in his lap. “Why don’t I just show you, hmm?”

“Should I expect a pop quiz after?” Hyunjin looked up through his lashes, teasing smile curving his pretty, plush lips.

Changbin scoffed jokingly, “It wouldn’t be a pop quiz if I warned you it was happening, Jinnie.”

The younger squinted suspiciously and shrugged his shoulders. “I thought I’d be able to read you. But I guess I’ll just have to pay really close attention and impress you if you do decide to test me.”

Nervousness peeked through Changbin’s calm facade and he gulped apprehensively before composing himself and grunting a noise of acknowledgement. He reached up to grab the back of Hyunjin’s neck and tugged him forward, slotting their lips together forcefully. Hyunjin’s breath hitched and the desire to ruin him clouded Changbin’s mind as he moved his lips against Hyunjin’s, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth before nipping at it aggressively. The younger let out a surprised but pleased sigh and Changbin felt him shiver in his hold.

He kissed back just as sharply, pulling back slightly with Changbin’s lower lip trapped in his teeth, tugging at the flesh before letting it bounce back. He opened his eyes to admire Bin’s features and when the olders eyes fluttered open, Hyunjin smirked at how dark and lustful his gaze had become. Without warning, Hyunjin dove back in and Changbin found himself panting into the others mouth, caught off guard and losing himself in the kiss.

Hyunjin kissed eagerly and feverishly, mouth moving forcibly against Changbin’s but somehow it wasn’t too much. In fact, Bin was craving more and he had to force himself not to take more than was acceptable at the time. He reluctantly withdrew, head falling back against the couch as he tried to catch his breath, eyes still closed.

“Fuck,” Changbin laughed airily, “I don’t think I have to test you after that.”

“Yeah?”

Bin let out another huff of air, “Yeah. It was almost too good.”

Hyunjin sucked his lips into his mouth and bit down, frowning skittishly and glad Changbin still had his eyes shut. “Sorry.”

“No!” Bin’s head shot up and he looked at the younger, perplexed. “Why are you apologizing, Jinnie?” He shook his head and chuckled gently, “I honestly didn’t want to stop.”

Lips shaped like a perfect ‘O’, Hyunjin gazed back at him, expression a little surprised as his cheeks reddened, “Oh.”

Changbin smiled at him fondly but embarrassment at his own admission started to creep up and he looked away shyly. “Don’t look at me like that! I can’t help it, I enjoyed it!”

Hyunjin giggled and leaned forward to whisper in Bin’s ear, “I liked it, too. Really, really liked it.” When he sat back, Changbin’s eyes had darkened again, pupils blown and faintly swollen lips parted.

“In that case,” the younger fidgeted in his lap as he took a deep, calming breath before continuing. “Move on to the next lesson?”

Eyes widening minutely, Hyunjin nodded slowly, glancing down at Changbin’s lips before flicking back up to hold his steady gaze. “Please,” he pleaded almost soundlessly.

“I think I’m gonna regret teaching you how to use tongue because you’ll pick it up really fast and you’re gonna be the death of me, I swear,” Changbin mumbled unintelligibly under his breath. Hyunjin managed to make out the last part of his sentence.

You’re gonna be the death of me, I swear.

Those words swam around in his foggy head as he stared into Changbin’s eyes, almost in a daze and Changbin thought he looked far too fucked out from just a kiss but he wasn’t complaining about the beauty sitting in his lap. The older lured Hyunjin again easily, moulding their lips together the second he was close enough. Hyunjin felt like he was floating and he was suddenly brought back to earth by a burning in the pit of his stomach when Changbin slid his tongue over his bottom lip. He gasped against the older’s mouth, granting him access and tightening his grip around his neck, chests pressed against each other.

Changbin cautiously licked around the outline of Hyunjin’s open mouth, urging a stunned moan to escape from the younger boy. Smiling into the kiss, Bin sucked at his lower lip before moving their lips together again. Hyunjin hesitantly poked his tongue out and Changbin took the opportunity to suck on it, earning a whimper as Hyunjin fisted the front of the elders shirt. Changbin kissed him deeply and, just as he expected, the younger caught on quickly, tongues gracefully dancing together amidst sloppy, open-mouthed kisses.

Pulling away for desperately needed oxygen, they rested their foreheads together as Changbin panted through a smile and Hyunjin stared at him, a hazy look in his eyes. Seconds later, Hyunjin pressed his lips to his hyung’s with new fervor, hands still tightly clutching at the material of Changbin’s shirt. He moaned wantonly when the elder squeezed at his waist.

Hyunjin felt the need to prove what he had learned despite not being asked this time around. He gave up trying to act like all this was new to him and just gave into kissing Changbin. Using his tongue like a hook, Hyunjin dragged Bin’s upper lip into his mouth and nipped at the flesh. The older groaned deeply and his hips canted upwards unintentionally. Pleased with himself, Hyunjin took to exploring Changbin’s mouth, earning moans and whimpers alike. When he finally pulled back, Changbin was the one dazed; kiss-bitten, swollen lips a deep, cherry red and eyes black and lecherous.

“Fuck,” he breathed, throwing his head back again. “Fuck! Why are you such a fast learner?”

The younger smirked, a sudden urge to kiss down Changbin’s exposed throat flashed in his mind but he quickly rid his brain of the thought, sure that that would be too far. At least for the moment.

Changbin laughed at the ceiling. It was almost lethargic. “I think the student has surpassed the teacher, fucking hell!”

Hyunjin couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled up in his chest and he covered his mouth, eyes forming crescent moons above his hand.

“You can’t just look all cute after you did...that,” Bin mumbled when he glanced at the laughing boy in his lap. Suddenly reminded of the whole ‘canting of his hips’ thing and the very evident bulge in his pants underneath Hyunjin’s ass, Changbin flushed, mortified. Hyunjin took that exact moment to squirm in the olders lap and Bin groaned sheepishly. “That’s probably completely unwarranted since we were just kissing but uhh...fuck it! It’s your fault for being too good at kissing so thanks for that!”

Joy mixed with pride bloomed in Hyunjin and he bit his lip, giggling even more, before leaning in to whisper in Changbin’s ear once more. “It was my pleasure,” he taunted, taking Bin’s earring between his teeth and tugged at it gently; the older shivered under him. Then he was out of Changbin’s lap in a flash. As he made his way out of the living room, he called over his shoulder, “I’ll leave you to take care of that.”

“You little shit!” Changbin shouted after him, prompting Hyunjin to wiggle his fingers in a wave before rounding a corner. Bin dropped his head back on the couch, fancying a good old, frustrated scream, but he stayed quiet. He finally got off the couch and headed off to take care of his problem.

And if he imagined Hyunjin taking him apart bit by bit while he simultaneously took Hyunjin apart when he wrapped his hand around his aching, positively dripping cock, that was no one’s business.

He did.

He also chanted Hyunjin’s name in a whisper as he spurted white all over himself and his hand.

But again, no one’s business.

And if Hyunjin got off to the sounds his hyung was making in the other room while he imagined how good Changbin would look covered in his cum, just to reiterate, that was no one’s business.

He did.

He was also overcome with an overwhelming wave of guilt moments after he came to the thought of Changbin.

No one’s business.

~

It became a normal thing, secret kisses and immediate guilt and burying of feelings. Hyunjin was sick to his stomach quite often, to the point that Chan got concerned with how often he was saying he was sick and going to lay down. Changbin worried that it was his fault. Maybe the younger was sick of him. Maybe he hated kissing Bin and just kept going along with it so as not to make him feel bad. If only he hadn’t said yes, if only they didn’t keep this up, if only, if, if. Changbin worried himself sick but he didn’t let Chan notice because Chan definitely didn’t need anything else to worry about.

“I’m going to go check on him,” Changbin volunteered a few minutes after Hyunjin mentioned he was feeling off and went to lay down for the nth time that week. Chan gave him an appreciative look and nodded approvingly.

Bin headed for the kitchen to make some ginger tea to soothe Hyunjin’s upset stomach. Once it was brewed, he took the steaming mug and knocked lightly on Hyunjin’s bedroom door before quietly opening it and peeking his head in. “Jinnie, it’s me. I brought you some ginger tea. It might help your stomach.”

Hyunjin grunted and laid still, facing the wall as Changbin padded in and set the mug down on the bedside table. The older hesitated before sitting on the bed in the curve Hyunjin’s legs formed and rested a gentle hand on his arm. “Jinnie,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

Changbin heard a sniffle and his heart immediately clenched in pain at the thought of Hyunjin crying. “Oh, Jinnie, baby. Don’t cry,” he pleaded selfishly, knowing just how much it hurt to see him cry.

Hyunjin let out a sob. “Why did you say you’re sorry? What for? I’m the one that’s sorry. I’m so sorry,” he babbled, voice cracking every other word. “I’m so sorry, hyung.”

“Jinnie,” Bin hesitated, on the brink of tears himself and he was sure they would spill when he saw the younger’s face but he asked anyway. “Can you look at me, please?” Hyunjin hiccuped and turned to face the older, unable to look him in the eye. “What are you apologizing for, baby? You have nothing to be sorry for!”

Throwing his hands up in the air, Hyunjin scoffed exasperatedly. “You couldn’t be more wrong, hyung!” He let his hands fall back to his sides and laughed sardonically through his tears.

Changbin couldn’t help the hurt expression that morphed his features. “I can’t know unless you tell me,” he tried, reaching for the younger’s hand to squeeze reassuringly. “You can tell me anything, Jinnie.” He could practically see the gears turning in Hyunjin’s head as he debated on whether or not to tell his hyung the truth. “I’m not sure if you think this or not, but I’m not mad at you. And I won’t be, no matter what you tell me. I just want to know what’s wrong because I’m worried sick about you and I want to fix whatever’s wrong if I can.”

Hyunjin’s bottom lip trembled as fresh tears spilled over his cheeks. He shot up and wrapped his arms around Changbin, weeping into his shoulder as the older took him into his arms and soothed a hand up and down his back. “Jinnie,” he whispered, burying his face in Hyunjin’s neck. But that’s all he said. He waited patiently for the younger to speak his mind.

“I lied to you,” Hyunjin mumbled into his t-shirt. “I lied about,” his body shook with the deep breath he took, “I lied about not having experience.” Hyunjin pulled away and sat hunched over, staring into his own lap and fiddled with a loose string on his pant leg. “I made it all up. All of it. The whole kissing practice thing was just an excuse. And I kept the lie going and I feel awful about it. I feel so sick over it because I never intended to hurt you or force you into it or anything like that. I feel sick over it because I’ve had feelings for you this whole time and I’ve been ignoring them so much when I’m with you that when I’m not with you, they all come crashing down on me and I feel like I’m going to throw up because I’m so overwhelmed with guilt. I can’t lie to you anymore, hyung. I never wanted to in the first place. But my stupid brain couldn’t figure out another way to make you see that I’m in love with you. So instead, I just hurt the both of us. Like an idiot. And I know I hurt you because you wouldn’t have apologized if I didn’t. You’re too sweet, saying you’re sorry for something that isn’t even remotely your fault and you know it. You’re too sweet and I love you for it. So much. And I’m so, so sorry.”

Changbin’s brain couldn’t process the entirety of the sudden influx of information that had just poured out of Hyunjin’s mouth. All he could process was three things, and he told Hyunjin so. “All I heard was ‘I lied’, ‘I’m sorry’, and ‘I’m in love with you’.” Hyunjin looked somewhat fearful, combined with embarrassment and regret. The older shook his head and took Hyunjin’s hands into his own. “And I’m telling you the exact same thing. I lied in the sense that I never told you I had feelings for you when I’ve had them since we first met. I’m sorry that I kept this thing going without telling you everything--I’m the hyung here, that’s on me. And I’m in love with you, too.”

“Y-you don’t hate me?” Hyunjin’s brows were scrunched together and he stared at the older in disbelief.

Reaching up to wipe away the new tears from the younger’s cheeks, Changbin shook his head adamantly. “Baby, no! I could never hate you! I mean, I can’t say I like the fact that you lied to me but I don’t blame you because I lied to you, too. We both didn’t know how to just come right out with our feelings. And besides, it got us this far, didn’t it?”

Hyunjin chuckled sadly, “I guess so. I’m still really sorry, hyung.”

“I know, Jinnie. Me too,” Changbin gently tugged him forward into another hug which Hyunjin gladly melted into. “I love you.”

Another sob slipped past Hyunjin’s lips and he laughed at himself, “Sorry, I didn’t know I would react like that hearing you say that for the first time.”

Changbin hummed and nuzzled into his neck, arms squeezing Hyunjin’s waist. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, hyung.”

~

“You said you don’t hate me but you’re spending awfully long amounts of time in your studio here lately.” Hyunjin’s teasing voice startled a very focused Changbin who was absorbed in whatever he was working on. He quickly spun around in his chair and his gaze found the younger standing in the doorway, his hip leant against the door frame and arms crossed over his chest, eyebrow raised, feigning suspicion.

Changbin whined, “You know I miss you like crazy. I’ve just had so much work to get done.”

Smirk curving his lips, Hyunjin sauntered into the room, closing the door behind him and turned the lock. “Why don’t you show me how much you miss me?” He taunted as he dropped onto the sofa in Changbin’s studio, clearly expecting the older to come to him.

Bin scoffed lightly before turning back around to fiddle with something while defeat and embarrassment crept up in Hyunjin; he genuinely thought Changbin was just ignoring him and finishing his work like the younger wasn’t even there. But soon, a sultry melody with heavy bass flooded through the speakers in the studio [Electric (R3hab Remix) (feat. Khalid) - Alina Baraz] and Changbin turned back around to face Hyunjin, smirking himself when he saw the expression on Hyunjin’s face. Pushing out of his chair, Bin stalked over to the couch, slipping his t-shirt over his head and tossed it behind himself carelessly as he watched Hyunjin rake his carnal gaze over the newly exposed skin, dark eyes hooded and full lips parted.

When he finally stood in front of the younger, he snickered wickedly and leaned in to ghost his lips over Hyunjin’s before gently guiding him to lay down on the sofa, body rolling fluidly as he climbed on top of him. “That was way too smooth,” Hyunjin whispered, impressed, causing Changbin’s smirk to widen if that was even possible.

“Kinda surprised myself there, honestly.” His smirk transformed into a genuine smile as he chuckled at himself and Hyunjin thought he looked positively beautiful in that moment. The feeling was mutual. Changbin stared at the boy below him -- long blond hair splayed out around his head, flush high on his cheeks, an enthralled fascination swirled deep in his inky eyes alongside pure admiration and want. “Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he rasped, mesmerized.

“Kiss me,” Hyunjin breathed. Changbin didn’t need to be told twice. He bent down and brushed their noses together ever so gently before capturing Hyunjin’s lips. Moving gracefully, Bin kissed him deeply, wanting to convey as much emotion as he possibly could, needing Hyunjin to know how much he loved him. He couldn’t help but say it, though.

“I love you, Jinnie.”

Hyunjin hummed against his mouth, “Mmm, love you, too, hyung. So much.” He threw his arms around Changbin, pulling him in even closer and arched into him when the older teased their tongues together.

“Want you,” Hyunjin gasped after moments of kissing the life out of each other. “Want you so bad.”

Changbin growled, kissing along Hyunjin’s jawline and down his neck as the younger boy bared his throat for him. Desperately wanting to leave marks, he knew he couldn’t leave anything in visible areas so he softly mouthed, kissed, and licked at the column of Hyunjin’s neck, earning constant whimpers and whines because of the sensitivity of the area. When Bin reached his clavicle, the urge won over and he sucked a deep plum-colored mark where he thought would be the perfect place. Sitting up to marvel at Hyunjin, Changbin let out a pleased hum at how divine the younger looked with his claim on him. The stylist noonas probably wouldn’t be too happy but Hyunjin looked plenty sexy when he was more covered up so Changbin didn’t think it would be too much of a problem. He didn’t care anyway. Hyunjin was his.

“Mine,” he murmured as he bent down again briefly to kiss at the pretty bruise. When he sat back up, he smiled in awe. “Always wanted to know what you’d look like underneath me like this.”

Hyunjin huffed out a chuckle, “And how do I look?”

“Impossibly perfect. Better than I ever dreamed,” Bin praised, eyes sparkling when he noticed Hyunjin’s cheeks redden. He shook his head and laughed breathily, “And I haven’t even ruined you yet!”

“Binnie hyung,” Hyunjin whined, pouting just how Changbin liked so much.

Bin smirked, “I know, baby,” he leaned down to kiss him again, “I’ve got you.” Hands trailing up Hyunjin’s sides and lifting his shirt in the process, Changbin sucked at his plush lips, fingertips delicately dancing over the other boy’s skin. Goosebumps rose under his touch and the younger arched into him again, moaning sweetly, so receptive and sensitive. “Off,” Changbin murmured against Hyunjin’s mouth.

Sitting up to lift his shirt over his head and toss it to the side, Hyunjin promptly fell back against the cushion, hair flooding out around him again. The dim, hazy light that filled the room lit up his blond strands and looked suspiciously like a halo to Changbin. But he knew better. This was no angel beneath him. This was a devil with a halo. Hyunjin had been shy and pliant but when he noticed how Changbin was staring at him, he couldn’t help but smirk as a wicked naughtiness shone behind his eyes and Changbin swore this boy would be the end of him.

Without warning, Bin leaned down to mouth at one of Hyunjin’s pert nipples and he grinned against his skin when the younger boy whimpered and canted his hips, the brief flash of power behind his eyes vanishing as quickly as it appeared. The older tugged gently with his teeth, earning a gasp and a roll of Hyunjin’s hips. Changbin hummed, “Bet I could make you cum from just your nipples, hmm? Would you like that, pup?”

Hyunjin shook his head fervently, “No! Want you, hyung!”

Chuckling, Changbin nodded as he pressed kisses over to Hyunjin’s other side. “Alright. Patience, baby. I told you I’d ruin you and I’m going to take my time. Understood?”

Sucking in a breath past his teeth, Hyunjin melted further into the sofa, “Yes, hyung.”

Changbin took his time toying with Hyunjin’s nipples before mouthing over the entirety of his chest, leaving burgundy flowers blooming in his wake, littering his skin with possessive marks. Whimpering and biting at his lips, Hyunjin craved more and Changbin could feel just how badly he needed him. He tugged at the waistband of the younger boy’s jeans, “I’m gonna take these off now. Is that ok?”

“Please,” Hyunjin begged simply. So Bin unfastened them slowly and slipped the material down his legs and threw it behind himself blindly before kneeling between his legs and bending down to mouth at his clothed cock. “Oh!” Hyunjin gasped, hands immediately flying to Changbin’s hair and tugging at the strands at the nape of his neck. The older smiled against him and hooked his fingers under the band, looking up for permission. When Hyunjin nodded, hooded eyes fluttering and lips bitten red, looking absolutely breathtaking, Bin removed them, wasting no time in mouthing at his leaking cock. The younger squirmed beneath him, mewling as he sucked at his balls. “Hyung, I-” A strangled moan cut off his words when Changbin wrapped his pretty doll lips around the head of his dick.

“Hmm?” Bin questioned wordlessly, suckling tenderly. But Hyunjin didn’t answer; he threw his head back and cursed under his breath when Changbin moved further down. Hollowing his cheeks, he bobbed his head, gradually taking more and more of Hyunjin. The younger writhed, wanton moans spilling from his lips.

Hyunjin had quite a bit of length but Changbin knew he could take it so he relaxed his throat and slid all the way down. “Hyung! Mouth- so good- I- Oh my god!” Hyunjin slurred, tightening his grasp on the hair in his fists. Bin’s chest warmed, proud of himself, knowing he was giving Hyunjin so much pleasure he could barely speak. The head of Hyunjin’s cock repeatedly hit the back of his throat before he stilled, swallowing around him, urging a weak scream from the boy under him.

Changbin loved how vocal Hyunjin was but in that moment, he was eternally grateful for the soundproof walls surrounding them. He lifted off Hyunjin’s cock, having decided it was sufficiently wet, and if not, the pre-cum would make the slide easier. Bin sat up on his knees and untucked himself, not even bothering to take off his sweats, just shoving them out of the way enough before leaning forward to hover over Hyunjin. Avoiding his hair, Changbin rested on his forearm against the cushion and slotted their hips together, hard, leaking cocks brushing each other as he watched the younger’s face morph in euphoria.

Spitting in his hand, just in case, Bin reached down between them and took both cocks in his hand, instantly dropping his head to Hyunjin’s neck and rolling his hips into his grasp. Hyunjin groaned and wrapped his arms around Changbin’s torso. “Yes,” he whispered in his ear, “You feel so good, hyung. Touch me just like that.”

Controlling nature fading in and out, Hyunjin vacilated between flustered, slurred words and heated, dirty talk like it was the easiest thing in the world and Changbin couldn’t help but be amused despite the tingle that shot up his spine at Hyunjin’s words. He smiled against Hyunjin’s fiery skin, placing small kisses on the junction where his neck met his shoulder.

Changbin continued to tug at their cocks until Hyunjin was whining in his ear and digging his nails into his back. “I’m so close, hyung. Please make me cum. Please,” he panted as he thrusted into Bin’s fist.

The older groaned in response, rhythm speeding up slightly and he stopped every once in a while to squeeze at the heads. “‘m close too, pup. Gonna make a mess of you. Gonna cum all over your pretty tummy. Bet you look gorgeous covered in my cum.”

Hyunjin suddenly stopped breathing, seizing up and arching into the older, chests pressing together as he spilled himself over Changbin’s hand and his own stomach. Bin leaned up just in time to see the ecstasy freeze up his beautiful features, hypnotized by the boy beneath him. “Wow,” he breathed, helping Hyunjin ride out his orgasm. Air returned to the younger boy’s lungs and he turned to lazily smile at Changbin.

He stopped stroking them together, letting Hyunjin’s cock fall into the mess on his stomach as he sat up and grasped his own length. Using the cum his hand was covered in to ease the slide even more, Bin fisted himself eagerly and seconds later, he streaked Hyunjin’s stomach with his own release. Changbin slouched as the energy evaporated from him.

Through heavy-lidded eyes, he watched Hyunjin trail his fingertips through the cum on his abdomen, swirling it around sloppily, mixing their releases before scooping up a decent amount. Changbin’s eyes widened and his dick twitched in renewed interest as Hyunjin brought his fingers to his mouth and wrapped his pillowy, kiss-bitten lips around them. Their eyes met as the younger boy cleaned his fingers of their cum, blown pupils swimming with desire and mischief.

“Fuck,” Changbin huffed, hovering over Hyunjin once more. “What a dirty baby!” Hyunjin smirked as he pulled his fingers from his mouth, a single strand of saliva connecting them. Bin broke it with the tip of his tongue before capturing the younger boy’s lips and dipping his tongue in to taste their cum on Hyunjin’s tongue.

He moaned at the older’s boldness and kissed him deeper. He teasingly mumbled against Changbin’s lips, “You’re dirty, too, hyung, aren’t you?” Bin just smiled and kissed him again.

After losing track of the time they spent kissing and giving himself enough of a refractory time period, Changbin pulled away and met Hyunjin’s eyes. “How about you flip over so I can taste you some more, hmm?” Hyunjin nodded quickly and reached for a t-shirt on the floor to rid his stomach of the rest of the mess. He was pretty sure it was his own shirt and in the back of his mind, he briefly hoped Bin had a spare or at least a hoodie so he wouldn’t have to return to the dorms suspiciously shirtless.

He cleaned himself off and turned over as requested and Changbin’s hands immediately gripped at his ass, kneading the flesh and spreading his cheeks. “Fuck, Jinnie! You’re too pretty, god!” Hyunjin looked over his shoulder at the older and scrunched his nose in a teasing manner while shaking his ass as best he could in Changbin’s grasp. Bin landed a slap against his right cheek, punishment for his playful taunting, and Hyunjin groaned deeply, dropping his head to the couch cushion and lifting his hips slightly, seemingly silently begging for more.

Changbin willingly obliged his unspoken request, his expression a nasty sneer as he smacked Hyunjin’s left cheek. “Wanna look in the mirror and see my handprints on your ass? My marks all over your pretty chest and thighs? Feel my lingering touch on your heated skin? Know you’re mine?” He demanded, spellbound by the way Hyunjin’s ass jiggled every time he laid a hard slap on the soft flesh.

Hyunjin wailed loudly at a particularly harsh spank and pushed his ass back towards Changbin. “Fuck, yes! More! Please, more! Make me yours, hyung!”

Bin growled unrestrainedly and ceased his attack on Hyunjin’s reddened skin, instead moving to lick a long stripe up his puckered hole. The younger boy let out a sound somewhere between a moan and a squeak and Changbin smiled against his skin at how oddly cute it was. He continued to lick and suck at his rim, urging the sweetest melodies to flow from his lover. When he poked his tongue inside, Hyunjin laughed deliriously, drunk with pleasure. Changbin thrusted his tongue in and out of Hyunjin’s pretty hole while the younger urged him on with frantic praise, “Oh, Binnie-hyung! Your filthy mouth feels so fucking good on me! You eat my ass so well! Fuck, just like that! Eat my ass just like that, yes! Yes!”

He pushed back again and Bin gripped at his ass and thighs, leaving prints and crescent-shaped indents as he massaged the flesh and buried his tongue in further, sucking at his rim. Adding a single finger, Changbin pushed the digit in alongside his tongue only to discover that it went in far too easily. He hummed suspiciously and sat up on his heels, sliding two fingers in place of one and Hyunjin whined at the feeling. “Tell me, pup,” he prompted, wiping the spit from his chin with the back of his hand and pumped his fingers slowly. “What have you been doing that’s got your slutty hole so loose, hmm?”

Hyunjin whimpered, burying his face further into his folded arms. Changbin slapped his ass again, “Answer me, pup.”

“F-fingered my-myself in the s-shower before I got here,” he admitted shamefully, stuttering as he dared to look back at the elder with his eyes wide and pleading. “Th-thought of you the wh-whole time, h-hyung.”

How the younger went from filthy, dirty talk to bashful stuttering in two seconds flat continued to bewilder Changbin but he was thoroughly enjoying the rollercoaster that was Hyunjin. He grunted in approval, “Good boy.”

Hyunjin’s eyes practically rolled to the back of his head and he couldn’t help but rut against the couch at the blatant praise. Changbin snickered at him, plunging his fingers in even further but still avoided his prostate. “You gonna cum from my fingers, baby?” He questioned, adding a third digit and urging a shaky groan from the boy beneath him.

“No!” Hyunjin shook his head adamantly as he rocked back onto Changbin’s fingers. “Wanna cum- I wanna cum on your cock. Please, hyung. Fuck me, please!”

Changbin hummed, “But, pup. I haven’t got any lube. Your hole may be loose from fingering yourself but I don’t want to hurt you stuffing my cock in your ass without lube. I don’t have a condom either.” His tone was disparaging, laced with overly-dramatic dissatisfaction even though he was genuinely dissapointed; he really did want to fuck Hyunjin but the last thing he wanted was to really hurt him.

Hyunjin shook his head again and gestured off towards another part of the room. “Back pocket,” he huffed. “Jeans back pocket. Brought lube.” He swallowed, still panting as Changbin spread his fingers wide inside him. “Don’t need a condom. Wanna feel you, hyung, please.”

Changbin stilled, “Are you sure, baby?”

“We’re clean. Don’t need it,” the younger boy mumbled, “Want you.”

Pressing kisses against the base of Hyunjin’s spine, Bin slowly pulled out his fingers, “Alright, baby. I’ll be right back.”

He rose from the couch to search for Hyunjin’s jeans that he had tossed god knows where, shucking off his own pants in the process -- why he hadn’t taken them off up until then, he had no clue, but he was glad to be rid of them. After coming up empty handed fishing through one pocket, he found a small bottle of lube tucked away in the opposite side and cheered internally before returning to the sofa where Hyunjin was rutting desperately against the cushion in his impatience. Bin was suddenly thankful that the material was easy to clean as he was sure Hyunjin was making a mess of it and they both would make even more of a mess not using a condom. He shrugged off his worries and resumed his place between Hyunjin’s thighs, uncapping the lube and squeezing a generous amount onto his fingers.

Warming it, Changbin hovered his hand over Hyunjin’s twitching hole, “I’m going to open you up a little more, OK, pup?”

“Hurry, please,” the younger boy begged, “Want you.”

Pressing in, Bin reminded him, “Patience, baby,” even though he was becoming desperate himself. He scissored his fingers around, searching for that spot that would make Hyunjin see stars and beg even more for Changbin’s cock.

He knew he found it when Hyunjin jolted forward and let out a choked, gurgled sounding moan and he couldn’t help but chuckle when the younger boy whipped his head over his shoulder and glared at him. Dropping the honorifics, it was Hyunjin’s turn to growl, “Now, Changbin! Fuck me now!”

Bin retracted his hand and lifted both up in surrender, still smiling, “As you wish.”

Lubing up his neglected cock, Changbin hissed in sensitivity as he gave himself a few good tugs. He lightly smacked Hyunjin’s hip, “Up.” The younger boy immediately lifted his hips, rising to his knees while still leaning his forearms and the side of his face into the sofa cushion. “Good boy,” Bin praised, lining himself up and teasing Hyunjin’s fluttering hole with the head of his cock. He carefully pressed in, Hyunjin’s breath hitching with the initial stretch, going slow so the younger had time to adjust. When he was about halfway in, Changbin rubbed a comforting hand over Hyunjin’s lower back, “You OK, baby?”

“Ngh, more, more, please more,” he wailed, pushing back against the elder.

Changbin chuckled fondly and slid in the rest of the way, hips pressed snugly against Hyunjin’s ass. “There,” he breathed, barely above a whisper.

Hyunjin gripped at the edge of the cushion, “Fuck, you’re big!” Usually, Changbin would absolutely preen at that kind of glorifying but for some reason, he just blushed and let out the tiniest of squeaks.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, dropping his head forward onto Hyunjin’s back, barely changing the angle but it was enough for the younger boy to feel it.

“Oh!” Hyunjin shivered, breathing heavy as he reached back with one hand to grip at Changbin. His hand landed somewhere between his thigh and ass; he couldn’t tell where but he wasn’t complaining and immediately squeezed a handful of his thick body. Bin grunted and the younger laughed breathily, “Don’t apologize! You’re perfect! Just let me- don’t move for a minute. I gotta-”

Changbin tenderly covered the boy with his own body and whispered in his ear to calm him, “Thank you, Jinnie. You’re perfect, too.” He pressed gentle kisses along Hyunjin’s shoulder, smiling into his skin as he spoke. “Just relax, baby. Take your time. You let me know if it’s too much, OK? We’ll stop!”

“No, I want this! I want you! I just- you’re so-” Hyunjin’s words trailed off into a moan as he rolled his own hips. “Big! Feels so good! You feel so good, hyung!”

The elder squeezed his eyes shut, willing the urge to just pound into him to go away, and took a shaky breath, “Does it hurt?”

Hyunjin shook his head. “Uh-uh,” he slurred, “‘s just a lot.” After another minute or two, the younger boy nodded, “‘s OK, hyung. You can move.”

Changbin kept his position, mouthing at Hyunjin’s neck and shoulder to distract him somewhat, but he started to roll his hips experimentally. Little grunts and whimpers passed Hyunjin’s plush lips and Bin pressed sweet kisses to the side of his face, whispering praises in his ear, “My baby. So good for me. Love you, Jinnie. You feel amazing. You’re so beautiful, my pretty baby.”

Tears streaked Hyunjin’s cheeks and Changbin kissed them away, “Love you, hyung.” He squeezed the flesh in his grip, “Harder, please.”

Bin drew back his hips a little further each time he thrusted, mild but still powerful. Hyunjin’s grasp on his side fell away and instead, he reached up behind himself to thread his fingers through Changbin’s hair, keeping him close as the elder peppered his skin with kisses. Changbin nuzzled into him, whispering ‘I love you’s.

Hyunjin loved the pure bliss that he felt in Changbin’s arms, being smothered in love and praises. But he wanted to cum again. And he wanted to get fucked. Hard. So he begged for it like a good boy. “Please, more. I need more. Please fuck me harder, hyung! I need it! Please, hyung!”

Changbin straightened up with a low growl, “Such a good boy for me, begging so sweetly. I’ll give you what you want, baby.” His hands found Hyunjin’s hips, his hold tight and sure to leave prints, and he drew back, leaving just the tip of his cock in the younger’s tight hole before plunging in.

Hyunjin let out a shaky groan, wiggling his ass against Changbin’s hips. The elder held him tighter and repeated his deep thrust, reveling in the wanton moan it punched out of the boy under him. “You’re still so tight, baby. Feel so good around me, sucking me back in every time I pull out. So good for me!” He was transfixed as he watched his cock slide past Hyunjin’s tight ring of muscles.

Wailing and grunting and meeting Changbin’s thrusts, Hyunjin pleaded again, “Please, hyung! Fuck me! Pound my tight ass! Fuck me harder, please!”

Growling again, Changbin quickened his pace before lifting one leg, changing the angle and abruptly causing the most beautiful sounds to pass Hyunjin’s pillowy lips. He reduced him to sobs and whines, mewling instead of forming complete words and clawing at the couch cushions. Bin smirked through his exertion, laughing lightly at how much he had succeeded in ruining the boy.

He was nearing his climax and breathed out one last question he hoped the younger could somehow form a coherent answer to. “I’m close, pup. Where do you want my cum?”

“Ngh, in me. In me, inside, please cum in me, hyung. I need your cum, need you to cum inside, please, need you to fill me up,” Hyunjin cried, plenty coherently, thighs trembling as he felt heat pool in his own belly.

Changbin leaned over Hyunjin once more, one hand steady on his hip while the other reached around to fist at his dripping cock. “Gonna cum, pup? Gonna cum for me like a good boy?” The elder mumbled in his ear, tone almost taunting, “Gonna make a filthy mess of yourself again?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” Hyunjin sobbed, “Please can I cum, hyung?”

Burying his nose into the younger boy’s neck, he smirked against his skin and gave him permission. “Of course, baby! Go ahead, cum on my cock.”

Whispering ‘thank you’s over and over again, Hyunjin’s body began to shake from how close he was. Changbin straightened up once again, effortlessly lifting Hyunjin’s knees off the sofa and he tugged just right and thrusted against the perfect spot and Hyunjin was done. Legs spasming, still clawing at the cushion he could reach, Hyunjin cried out, “Changbin! God, fuck!”

Ribbons of white sprayed over the sofa cushion and the younger boy’s walls tightened around Bin, tipping him over the edge. He stroked Hyunjin through his orgasm while he pumped him full of his cum. Changbin collapsed back on his heels, Hyunjin awkwardly falling into his lap, still connected to each other.

Using the microscopic amount of energy he had left, Hyunjin leaned back into Changbin and turned to place a lazy kiss against his jawline, melting into him as he let his battery recharge enough to make it back to the dorms.

Speaking of making it back to the dorms, Hyunjin looked down at himself and the mess of the couch in front of him and groaned. “We gotta clean up.”

“Good thing this is a pleather couch or else that stain would be a real bitch to get out,” Changbin chuckled, glancing around the room at the strewn about clothes in search of something to wipe up the mess with. His eyes landed on the roll of paper towels he kept on his desk for the frequent times he ate in his studio and subsequently spilled multiple things.

Bin’s mind whirled with various things as he silently stared at the paper towels on the other side of the room -- Hyunjin needs a shirt of some kind since he wiped up cum with his. I should have a spare hoodie in that bag over there. Chan’s probably still up even if no one else is. How are we gonna get past him without looking incredibly suspicious? Oh god, I just came in Hyunjin’s ass! That’s gonna leak out before we can get in the shower at home! Fuck! “Really wish I had a butt plug right now.”

Hyunjin snorted and turned to look at him, “Excuse me?”

“What? I- oh. I said that out loud,” Changbin grinned sheepishly. “It’s just- OK I’m not saying this to be kinky or anything but a butt plug would be convenient right now since I just came in your ass and we have to somehow make it back to the dorms, you know?”

Throwing his head back, Hyunjin laughed warmly, “I think I’ve got that handled, thanks. I’ll be fine.” Changbin nodded, still trying to come up with solutions to his other dilemmas. “Do you have an extra shirt? Mine’s kinda…” Hyunjin trailed off, gesturing at it on the floor next to the couch.

It was Bin’s turn to laugh. “Yeah. Hoodie in the bag over there,” he pointed in its direction before inclining his head towards his desk. “We can use the paper towels to clean up what we can. I’m gonna go grab them so I have to pull out now, OK?”

Hyunjin braced himself and nodded, both boys wincing in oversensitivity as Changbin moved Hyunjin off his lap, soft dick falling to his hip. When Bin returned to the sofa with the paper towels, he couldn’t help but laugh at Hyunjin who was desperately trying not to kneel or put a hand in the mess. “Sorry, sorry!” He rushed to help when the younger boy glared at him.

Once the couch was no longer a disaster and the two were as clean as they could be given the circumstances, they pulled their clothes on and Changbin gathered up his stuff before they headed for the dorms.

“How much you wanna bet Chan ‘knows’ we did something?” Hyunjin joked as they were walking down a stairwell.

Changbin let out a playful, pained noise, “Let’s just hope he’s preoccupied since we both know he won’t be sleeping.” Hyunjin nodded in agreement. “And if he’s not, don’t act suspicious!”

“Easy for you to say!”

Bin spoke up again a few moments later. “Was,” he hesitated, “Was that OK? I mean, was it good for you? Umm…”

Hyunjin took one look at Changbin’s clearly stressed expression and burst out laughing, “Yes, hyung. 10/10 would fuck again.”

The elder tried to hold back his own laugh but ultimately failed, “Oh, uhh, yeah, same.” Hyunjin knocked his hip, still giggling as he hooked their arms together.

When they arrived back at the dorms, much to their chagrin, Chan was waiting in the living room like a dad that was pissed with his teenage children for coming home way past curfew. “I had a feeling you two were up to something,” he squinted at them skeptically. “What did you do?”

“Fuck!” Changbin breathed in annoyance but Hyunjin took it the wrong way.

“Hyung, I thought you said we weren’t going to tell him what we did!”

Changbin felt like he was dying inside.

Chan just stared at the floor, entirely unwilling to make eye contact with either boy.

Hyunjin just giggled, “Oops?”

[mci-writing]

Attachment (Villain!Midoriya Izuku x Reader)

A/n:This fic was originally meant to be posted July 20th for @birds-have-teeth‘s Izumonth Server Collab! I enjoyed writing for this event and I hope you all enjoy this fic!

Warnings: Somewhat mature themes; reader is a sex worker; gun use; non-consensual touching of naked skin, but not quite groping; Slightly ooc Midoriya Izuku; Reader implied to not be the greatest at defending themselves

There’s a certain loneliness that comes into your mind when you’ve been put down all your life. It’s a form of depression everyone faces once in a while, one that hits some a little harder and hits others a bit less. Then there’s always a trigger and it hits some so low it’s nearly impossible for them to pick themselves back up. 

Some have no idea where their sudden upset came from, settling for letting the slump pass over instead of getting to the root and removing that unneeded variable. Others know exactly what set off the feeling and rather hide it from themselves, wearing a facade over their emotions until they finally can’t handle all the turmoil. That usually leads to… unruly situations and one to a few lives get taken in the process. 

Midoriya has observed enough to know that this… weak point can be manipulated into getting people tricked up in numerous webs for his own self gain. What point in time varies on the person and the situation, but people usually get pretty desperate once all the pieces finally hit just a little too deep for them to shake off the depressive state of unwantedness. He knows all too well himself what paths unwarranted thoughts lead you down when you’re trapped in desperation.

“Here’s the deal then… I help you if you help me,” However, as time passes and you’ve watched numerous people fall for the same trick from a couple of choice words, the small tug of remorse at the back of your mind eases into a silent plea of muddled feelings. Any struggle is resolved with a simple “for business” before he fast talks his way through another bungled, one-sided proposition that ends up with a once innocent civilian put behind bars for the blood they never had on their hands. Twisting fate in his scarred hands for the sake of his survival, “This whole situation will disappear if you just assist me in this one situation. You even get a cut”

There were a few successful missions here and there, and he always made sure to make his end of the deal rather quickly before anything could get too overly complicated. People would go missing and bank accounts would be filled with stolen money; Police turn their heads with a simple threat or bribe. Then the cycle repeats again and another kid that needs therapy gets sent down a dangerous path. If it was just a little over his jurisdiction, another body is left in the gutter of some busted neighborhood with little trace as to just what happened. 

And those that couldn’t wallow in the filth of their crimes usually handled their own punishment.

He learns to lay low, move places, but never forget names or faces. The process can be emotionally tolling on him at times. Certain situations tend to remind him of his times growing up, those hopeless situations that crawl from the depths of your mind and keep you up on late nights. He pushes them away and continues with his day, keeping an eye out for his next victims before he hits the road again. 

He passes numerous people on his way up to his apartment, his body swerving and curling in various ways to avoid the rambunctious space up the stairs and through the halls. He’s lucky to only bump into one person when he happens to glance away a moment. They’re also not paying much attention, squeaking out in surprise from the sudden collision and their hoodie falling in the aftermath. 

They fall back a bit, catching themself with their back-foot before they can fully trip up while Midoriya manages to hold himself from the impact. He’s forced to take in their features, finding himself gazing upon them a little longer than he intends before tearing his own emerald eyes away from their form before he can embarrass and draw extra attention to himself. It doesn’t help that their seemingly tantalizing, (e/c) eyes curiously stare up at him. His body warms in a way that reminds him of his prepubescent awkwardness and his cheeks light up a rare shade of red he’s normally able to keep composed.

He clears his throat before his feet begin moving again to quickly remove himself from the situation before he can open his mouth. He’s only able to have enough decency to give a half-assed apology in the midst of retreating to his home. His heart beats a little faster and takes awhile to calm.

~~~

He keeps notes on the surrounding tenants, documenting every inconvenience that they face and each unfortunate event that seems to surround their bubbles while he’s there. He tosses darts at possible targets daily as he keeps himself holed up in his small apartment. 

It’s a little more than surprising when you get a set of darts as a housewarming gift to accompany the usual “Yoroshiku onegai shimasu”, especially an expensive, name brand set of this caliber, but there are times where you get lucky, I guess? Then again, it came from the person he practically bulldozed his first day of being here and they insisted the incident was their fault, buying them as a “makeup gift” or something? The gift was accompanied with the information of their name as well. He wasn’t opposed and accepted them with open arms (of course, sending the darts in to his associates to check before he properly used them) before coming to the quick decision to distance himself just a little more than he usually does (because there’s something up with the way he finds himself just a little more on the warm side when he talks to them).

His room smells like katsudon from some random takeout restaurant from down the street that he picks up on his way home from those times he goes in and comes home late. He carries a duffel bag to and from his office, filling them with a spare set and replacing them on days things get messier than planned. There are days he finds bloody weapons he forgot to get rid of and days where his neighbors become curious of his occupation. Both are brushed off in the same manor, taken care of and disposed of respectively. 

He maps out the surrounding area for his next aim. He notes the various factors in notes, from the Pro heroes in this specific area to important landmarks he’d like to hit up for priceless souvenirs. He only takes a break to check and manage his time “responsibly”, but only the smell from his leftover boxes really distracts him by reminding him that he needs to probably get some food soon. It becomes a last priority each time he manages to push it away, but his body can only handle the denial for so long before he finally forces himself from his seat.

Midoriya steps out of his apartment once he gets everything he needs, pausing at the sight of his neighbor standing in front of their ajar door. He can only really see past it a bit, catching sight of maybe a chair and a stand? Their fingers are rummaging through a small pouch, their eyebrows furrowed and lips upturned in a pout as they search through it. He watches for a moment before releasing a sigh, walking up to them and clearing his throat to garner their attention.

“Are you looking for something?” He speaks up, his hands shoved in his pockets. His eyes catch the way their face lights up a shade or the nervous downturn their (e/c) eyes make. He takes note of the way their hold tightens around the pouch, the way they begin to sweat under his gaze before their eyes shyly glance back up at him.

“No. Not at all” They lie through their teeth, glancing down at their small bag one last time before they close it with a huff. They open their apartment door, sending him a quick smile, “Thanks for asking, though. I-I’ll see you around”

He stops himself from asking further, quickly nodding his own head and heading out the door of the building. He brushes the encounter off and instead focuses on getting himself a nice bowl of beef katsudon from down the street.

The trip doesn’t take him very long as he walks back in his apartment building with three plates stacked in a bag and a stick of pocky between his teeth. He stares ahead rather blankly as he mentally runs over the crap he’d recently gathered in passing. Some guy a few buildings down needs help with rent payment, a dad struggling over custody of his kid, and a washed up businessman needs enough money to get himself off the ground again. He grins to himself as his plans of another successful caper begin to formulate, so lost in his head he almost passes his door.

He pulls his keycard from his pocket, taking the time to swallow the cookie between his teeth before he gets the door opened. He pauses when he hears the door across the hall slam shut, his back straightening in panic and his body contorting to catch what happened. His eyes narrow at the hefty guy beside his neighbor’s door, rolling his eyes as the guy continues to knock at the door.

“Come on, (Y/n). You've gotta let me in. I’ve changed-” Midoriya sighs as he closes his door, his grip on his bag tightening as he fully turns around and walks up to him. He pulls on an old smile he only pulls in situations that are a little more sensitive and he prays it doesn’t seem disingenuous when he steps up to the door.

The guy is just a foot over Midoriya, bulkier and forcefully intimidating. His intimidation is so fake that Midoriya has to hold himself back from laughing. He settles for clearing his throat to garner the guy’s attention, holding the bag up and innocently tilting his head.

“Hey, is, uh, is (Y-Y/n) here? We sort of planned a l-lunch date for today…” He inwardly cringes at his own words, still managing to hold up the act. The idea of even doing something remotely that romantic with anyone was enough to get his cheeks flushing enough and his, as others say, green, doe eyes was enough to help pull off the innocent look for him.

 “You don’t seem like much..” The dude looks him over, lip upturned in judging disgust. Midoriya has to hold back a roll of his eyes, his free hand making it to his back pocket and setting itself inside as he waits for the guy to finish sizing him up. The smirk that comes to that guy’s face seems to piss Midoriya off just a little more, his voice now louder and taunting, “You really couldn’t do any better, (Y/n)?!”

“LISTEN HERE, YOU PIECE OF SHI- Midoriya? H-Hey!” The sudden yank of the door causes Midoriya to jump just a little more than he thought it would. Hearing their tone of voice and the sudden rise in volume was a little more than surprising to him, especially considering how quiet and to themselves they tended to be when he was around.

“I said you could call me Izuku, i-if you wanted. We’ve already been through so much as is, (Y/n),” He watches their (e/c) eyes dart between the bag in his hand, him, and the other guy standing next to him. They seemingly calm down a bit, a bit of a nervous smiling coming to their face at the sight of Izuku being there. He lifts the bag a little more, stepping to be more in their peripheral vision and reassuring them of the situation, “I hope you don’t mind katsudon…”

“Come on then, Izuku” They open the door a little wider with a kind smile, turning away from them before walking inside. Midoriya takes a moment before following behind, grinning as he closes the door in the guy’s face.

He doesn’t know what to expect when he walks inside, but the barren apartment was a bit of a surprise. It shouldn’t have been. He’s seen people with gaping holes in their walls and others with cow sized rodents running around. This wasn’t anything new at all, especially in such a cheap apartment complex, but it didn’t connect with the housewarming/apology gift he received from them the first week he moved in. There’s a flyer on a small table conveniently placed near the front door. Green eyes scan over the paper covered in various shades of lustful blues and accentuated pinks, swiping the leaflet with finesse and walking just a little further inside after removing his shoes. 

He pushes it to the back of his mind and instead focuses on sharing the katsudon he ordered. It was more than likely a little more lukewarm than either of them would have liked, but that isn't enough to wane his hunger as he pulls the take out bowls out of the bag. He passes (Y/n) some chopsticks, taking his own between his fingers and flipping the top off of his.

The two eat in silence. One believes it to be calming, allowing him to get a look around the room and properly inspect the other without seeming out of place, while the other finds it rather awkward as they search their mind for how to break it. When (y/n) finally does find the right words, they speak up almost meekly. It’s a great contrast from their fussing earlier, yet it was what Midoriya was used to hearing from them, “Sorry that you got involved with all… that”

That was one way to describe that encounter…

“It’s fine. We all deal with crazy people from time to time”

“Yeah…”

~~~

That wouldn’t be the last time Midoriya would find himself stepping into a similar situation for his neighbor across the hall. It seemed every week there was some dick outside waiting on them, trailing them home, or practically trying to force their way into their apartment. It seemed almost non-stop and was very distracting from his job. He had plans he needed to work out and pawns to create to go in his stead, but instead he was playing hero for his resident next door. He could make it easier on himself and ignore the pricks outside, let them have at them however they were looking to. Turn a blindeye to it all and pretend he has no idea when they inevitably go missing.

However, the flyer on his wall above his laptop reminds him that he just can’t do that. He has to watch over them for a reason and to just let that go out of sheer annoyance won’t feign him much luck when he finally sends his next team out to the field. If he has to feed them every night, have his goons keep watch of them on their way to work at the darkest hours of the night as well as their way home at the very crack of dawn, and leave them small gifts for the better fit of their survival then he’ll do just that to ensure that this deal doesn’t just slip away from his fingers. A sex worker is more than essential to the very job spending time with (Y/n) was distracting him from, especially if they knew their way around the underground of this neighborhood. 

They were good at their job, very good at their job. He’s visited once or twice, only really making his presence known as of late (how many times he has gone to see them prior to that is really only his concern and a personal choice on his part) so they’d talk more openly about it with him and stop dancing around their profession (pun intended). They had a proficiency to their movements that he’s rarely seen in such low par establishments which, added with their fluidity and attractiveness, made it pretty obvious why so many patrons try to find their way to (Y/n)’s apartment in an attempt to gain just a little more than a bit of lewd teasing.

His mind races with the various places and positions he can place them in for this to work, reminding him just how important it is for him to properly socialize with the tenant across the hall. Getting attached wouldn’t be much of a problem. It’s never been much of a problem to him before and it's not like he had much of a reason to keep up such a facade of caring after. Whatever happened to them after wasn’t much of his concern, even if taking them on for more missions later would make a couple a little easier-

That was the original objective, anyway. There’s no room for truly caring for someone when you’re working underground, no room for getting beside yourself and growing any bonds deeper than respected co-workers. Midoriya’s been doing this job for years, first starting out as an intelligence kid for one of the yakuza groups in his neighborhood. He’s seen what kind of hurt it can lead to by keeping people close and how climbing up the ladder of power adds to the heartbreaks caused. 

Midoriya feels himself sigh as he shakes himself from thinking on the subject any longer, going back to his map of the High Cape, an expensive bar upstreet commonly used as a venue for support item bidding. One support item in particular had his and everyone else in the industry’s attention. He knew a couple of villains that would bid ten times the amount of money the device would actually go for and he could definitely use the money for his future projects. With the various vents and ducts in the building (mainly for quirk occurrences rather than heating and cooling the building), he’d need someone with a quirk or some similar ability that would allow them to easily slip by. His eyes move up his table, landing directly on the perfect person: A tenant down the hall, practically a teenager living on her own. She’s small enough for it and she could definitely use a cut of the cash they’d get-

“Hey, Izuku? I’m using your shower again” Midoriya jumps in his seat at the sudden opening of his door, his hands scurrying to put everything out of view. He turns around just as the door closes behind his intruder, towel wrapped around their body and the sparkly new loofa he bought them the other day held tightly in their hand. He’s seen this sight so many times the past month and it still manages to make his cheek tinge a hint of red at the idea of a bare body being there (it doesn’t help he has a very good idea of just what lays under there from the various performances of theirs he’s attended). Times like this make him feel more like their overprotective sugar daddy than an employer trying to get them in a job.

“You sure you don’t want me to pay your water bill? I don’t mind” He reminds as he watches them make their way to his bathroom. His swivel chair moves with his body as he stretches, the satisfying cracks his bones makes causing him to hum out in misplaced pleasure. He doesn’t expect too much of an answer back once the shower water comes on, turning his chair back to his desk and grabbing his planning journal, “I’m pretty close to just doing it against your will!”

He opens it up, reading over it’s contents. He adds a few more spare details as he thinks the plan over, sighing once more as he thinks over his current lab rats. He’s already planted the seeds for a few needed pawns, catching sight of their responses to his anonymous proposal and enjoying the way many of them were quick to send their responses to their designated areas. It makes him chuckle each time he sees those so ready to change their situation “for the better”. Those same people who jump at the deal without hesitation tend to be the ones to fully follow the plan through, do everything they're supposed to and deliver what he needs to his palm, yet they also do the irrational once the deeds they’ve committed really sinks in.

“You’re always writing in that thing when I come over” He hears their wet footsteps on the tiled floor before he realizes the water’s cut off.

“Don’t sit on the bean bag chair until you fully dry off” His jade orbs slowly look up at (Y/n), a knowing look on his face when he looks up to find them loosely dressed in one of his old t-shirts and, hopefully, a pair of underwear. He finds himself frowning seeing the fabric stick to their wet body the way it did, accentuating parts of them that he wished other people didn’t see. He sets his notebook down and trades it’s position for his phone (purposefully bugged in a way to keep out peepers), “Have you eaten today?”

The shrug he receives reminds him that he shouldn’t have bothered asking before he orders them something through one of his subordinates. His eyes gaze over their body again, this time lingering just a little longer. He turns away again, ignoring the way his cheeks warm. 

Having them laid out on his bean bag chair, legs spread enough for him to get enough of a view to confirm that they were indeed wearing underwear added another rosy shade. It reminds him why he’s approaching them in such a protective way and why he has to make sure he gets close enough for them to trust him with their life.

“Do you trust me?” It’s a simple question. It should’ve been a straightforward response from here on out. He discretely reaches under his desk as they hesitate, keeping the steel device out of their line of sight as he stands to his feet. 

(Y/n) nervously grins as Midoriya slowly approaches and there’s this look in his eyes that they’ve never seen from him. They stand to their feet themselves in a wary manner, glancing around for any indication that this was just a prank that they’d laugh off in a few minutes, “Of course I trust you… You’ve already done so much for me, it’d be kinda crazy for me not to-”

“But with your life?” Their heart stops when he pulls the gun out and aims it their way, his index finger close to the trigger and ready to pull it so easily, “Are you willing to dedicate yourself to my case if your survival depended on it?”

“What the hell are you talking about?!” He shoots once, the bullet just barely missing them and perfectly hitting the center of his dart board on the wall behind them. A sign that that’s not what he wants to hear, “Izuku-”

“Are you going to listen to whatever I say when the time calls for it?” The smirk on his face holds nothing more than amusement as he stares them down, patiently awaiting their answer. His head tilts to the side, eyes narrowing slightly as he speaks again, “We both know I’m the only thing keeping you alive and well… I’m really not asking for much and it really benefits you in the long run”

Another hesitant, painfully awkward silence follows that statement as (Y/n) thinks over their options at the moment. They could either defy his request and die right here in his apartment or they could accept his request and do whatever he says to keep yourself alive and, most probably, be taken care of the way he has been taking care of them. It doesn’t take rocket science to decide which was better at the very moment, “I trust you, Izuku...”

“Call me Deku when you’re working” He takes a step forward, the gun still threateningly being held. He flips it in his hold before getting it in a comfortable position again, enjoying watching the person before him squirm under scrutiny at the possibility of a bullet shooting through them. The whole scene gave him excited goosebumps, his coy smile still on his face as he watches them reveal their nervous ticks before him. All of this because they really thought he’d shoot, “Take my shirt off”

He watches as it comes off, the sight of their bareness almost enough for him to put the gun down and properly take it in. He releases a breath through his nose, stepping forward enough for him to reach out and press his fingertips into their skin. He pulls (Y/n) closer, the gun pressing into their side as he enjoys the feeling of having them flushed to his chest.

“I could kill you so easily and no one would know…” He buries his nose in their neck, the cold metal pressing a little harder into their skin as his hold on them tightens. Deku feels the tremble in their breathing and it almost makes him chuckle as he’s quick to reassure, “A shot here would cause quite a bit of damage, but not an immediate kill-” He digs the barrel more into their skin, almost enough to leave an indent, before he lifts it to their forehead with a degrading laugh, “Here would definitely kill you immediately”

His hand eases down their side, relishing in the soft feeling of their skin and giving weightless squeezes. He stops just above their hip, fingertips brushing over the waistband of their underwear (which he ensures to pull back enough to startle them, but not really harm them), before his fingers slowly ease up with feather-like touches. He pulls back a bit and lifts the gun to their chin to have their (e/c) eyes meet his. The look they gave him seemed vacant, yet submissive in a way he wasn’t used to seeing from them. It causes a small ping in his heart and a soft shade to come to his face once he realizes just how close he was to the very naked (Y/n) in the middle of his apartment. 

“Stuff like this would leave you vulnerable during an assignment, y’know? I won’t always be there to protect you from getting taken advantage of…” He’s quick to back away, lifting their hand and setting the gun there. He closes their hand around the trigger, circling around and leading them to hold the gun up properly, “So I might as well teach you how to use it, right? A thank you gift”

He ignores the warm feeling in his chest at having them pressed against his body again (this time with the added bonus of him being more self aware) and continues with his instructing, pulling away to let them try at shooting at the target just above his desk. He throws advice towards them here and there as he grounds himself against, thinking over just how he was going to get through the rest of this without his feelings developing beyond this point.

He reminds himself that he was just trying to warn himself of this very things, his hands reaching over carefully and helping them aim just a little better. It allows him to get a feel for how cold they are, their goosebumps riled up against the skin of his palm enough indication. He tugs his jacket off before he carefully drapes it over their shoulders, lifting the wet shirt from before off the ground, “Go ahead and get comfortable again while I take care of this. The food’s right down the road”

“Hey, Izuku? I meant what I said about trusting you, even if it costs me my life in the long run…” He originally took their nod a bit ago as an okay sign of where they’d just left off and it would’ve been enough confirmation for him to retreat with the wet clothing in his hand. However, he stops once he hears them speak up for the first time since he forcefully interrogated their loyalty to him and their words are enough for his heart to pound in his chest a different way than the original adrenaline he’s used to feeling when having someone swear their allegiance to him, “I’ll do what I’ve got to if it means helping you after everything you’ve helped me with this past month”

Typically, Deku doesn’t find himself too concerned with those he signs contracts with. The process is cut and dry: He helps them and they help back. How they go about their lives after has nothing to do with him as long as they’re not caught snitching. He’s seen various different responses and scenarios play out with these random civilians, situations he’s learned to let happen as they are because they’re out of his jurisdiction. He knows he could probably save a few lives if he wanted with the power he has baking behind him and maybe he could save certain people from prison, even if they put themselves there.

None have managed to make him tear up the way he currently did. He realizes just how attached he’s gotten to (Y/n) in a little over a month (which is really a big jump when compared to the literal months he’s spent with others that were nothing more than irritating) and it’s so hard for him to just accept that they’ve taken the job without much hesitation or question. He knows what that can mentally do to a person, he’s seen it before his own eyes. There have been more than many times someone’s realized they got screwed over after putting everything they had into a job and then for them to take a gun, knife, or maybe even using their own quirk to take that last breath. He’s never been so… concerned over how someone’s life would be majorly fucked from agreeing to his terms.

And all he’s really left to do is mentally reprimand himself for allowing himself to get so attached to some random sex worker he met by chance in the midst of moving into his apartment building. This was going to be a little more than a mess of blood on his hands when he finally gets that support item.

[hitsuackerman]

Unpredictable (Overhaul x Reader) pt.28

a/n: aye have mixture of fluff and angst~ sorry for uploading late :c MY SCHEDULE IS SUCH A KILLER I CANNOT STRESS IT ENOUGH huhuhu

warnings: this cannot be read solo

Links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 19, part 20, part 21, part 22, part 22, part 23, part 23.5, part 24, part 25, part 26, part 27, part 29

Masterlist to my other fics: here :) (that has not been updated for how many months now... proceed with caution~)

“Is that really you, Inspector (l/n)?” The hero asked. With each step she took, you made sure Chisaki’s face wouldn’t be seen. ��It’s late.”

“Hey, Enigma~” Lowering his head to rest on your shoulder, you smiled at the small quiet hero. “It is late~ We’re not causing a disturbance are we?”

“Of course not! But I don’t think this is the place to be…” She scratched her cheek and avoided your eye contact. “You know…”

“I know~ I apologize. He’s typically busy and we don’t get to hang out much.” You patted his back and continued. “He’s also very shy and doesn’t like to be seen in public.”

“Oh! I’m very sorry! But, if you don’t mind, would it be alright if the both of you continued elsewhere?”

“It’s fine! We were just going separate ways.” You consoled her and knew that her reaction was safe enough. At least you were fast enough to cover his face. “I told you, Shinoda-san. Heroes patrol these times of the night.”

“Forgive my rash decision.” He rested his head on your shoulder. Embarrassed that he had been this close to kissing you. Disappointed that it was barely a few centimeters and yet even such trivial things like these, the heroes would always disturb him. For now, all he could do was to wrap his arms around your body.

“Don’t wear your mask.” You whispered to him. He merely hummed. Gliding your hands on to his chest, he looked at you with cautiously eager eyes. Feeling how you pushed him he let you lead the way till the hood of his car hit thighs. “Enigma’s gone. You can turn around now.”

“I apologize for my actions.” Overhaul said as he took out his mask and wore it. “I was not expecting those bastards to roam this area at night.”

“You come here often?”

“Many years back. That apartment building, the third one.” He pointed it out. “Before the Shie Hassaikai was established, Kurono and I used to live there.”

“Wait, wait, wait… You and Chrono were roomies?” You stared at your companion, to the building, and back at him. A small pang of pain hit your forehead just as he had overhauled his glove back. “Well, no need to flick me, Chisaki.”

“Whatever it is your mind was thinking, no. We weren’t roomies.” He pinched your cheek and leaned on to the hood. “Neighbors. Pops owns that building. It’s one of the properties not involved with my business.”

“You know, I’d ask but perhaps we can schedule another meeting for that.” You took the vacant area beside him. With a bit of space in between, you placed your hand beside his. Just a reminder that the invitation still remains open.

“Of course.” Looking at your figure beside him, he furrowed his brows and shook his thoughts away. “Then again, we really should go separate ways. I hate having to take my mask off.”

“You know, you don’t have to take it off when you’re with me.” Elbowing him gently, you chuckled. “Don’t get me wrong, though. I like looking at your face. I just don’t want people to see you. Especially not with how things are going.”

“Nah.” Not expecting that word to come out of his mouth, the both of you met eyes at the same time. Adjusting the cloth, he tried to hide the slowly creeping heat on his cheeks. “You’re rubbing off on me, (y/n). That aside, it isn’t really bothersome if I take it off when you’re around. Your expressions are worth breathing the horrid air.”

“Ugh. Smooth talker.” You pouted. Taking a peak at your watch, the time was now quarter to one. As much as you wanted to stay and get to know more of the man behind the name, he was right. Flinching at the sudden weight on your hand, you looked down and found his on top of yours.

The kiss may not have happened but if it were compensated with this small act of intimacy then perhaps it wasn’t that bad. Carefully interlacing your fingers, you were more than relieved when he moved along and held on to your hand tightly. Maybe it was fine if you were to lean on to his arm and rest your head on his shoulder?

Just as you were about to attempt, Chisaki pulled you closer to him.

“You’re too obvious…” He said as he rested his head on yours. “We already have to leave in a few minutes. If you won’t do it then I will.”

“I swear this feels like a fever dream…” You commented earning a ruffle to the hair with his free hand. “Alright, alright. It’s real. You better not bug me Chisaki or I swear I will block you.”

“Well, now that this has happened, shall we take our leave now?”

“Is it bad to say that I’d rather stay here?”

“Are you suggesting we sleep in the car?” He poked your cheek.

“And have you drowned in your car’s germs? I’d rather not.” Standing up straight, you took a few steps and only then realized he still had not let go of your hand. “If you don’t let go, I’ll have to rethink sleeping in the car. And frankly speaking, sleeping in cars is not the most comfortable experience.”

“Right again.” Letting go of your hand, he too stood up. “In that case, I shall send a message when I get back to the base.”

“And I’ll message you when I arrive home.”

“Fair trade.”

To which you did not. Right after both your cars went separate ways, your phone vibrated with a message from Tsukuachi. Parking at the nearest allowable area, you grabbed your device and read the message. Rereading the text, you clicked dial.

“Are you for real?”

“I wasn’t expecting you to read it now.” He stifled a yawn and continued. “Unfortunately yes. If you can drop by the precinct, I can hand them over to you so you can get a head start.”

“Nao, it’s 1am.”

“And yet here we are, talking on the phone like the rats we are.”

Letting out a sigh, you ended the call. Rubbing your face, you leaned your head on the steering wheel and stared at your hand. Chewing on your lip, you began to recall the moment that had happened a mere minutes ago. Being able to hold his hand out in public had a different tingle.

Not long after, you were now seated beside Tsukauchi. Accepting the small cup of coffee, you waited as he filed through some documents. Taking small peaks at some of the letters, you saw how some names of villains you knew of were written down and crossed out. When Tsukauchi stopped at a particular piece of paper, he handed it over.

“Damn. It really is happening.” You set the paper aside and took a sip of your now cold beverage. “Do you need any help for the preparations? I can pull an all nighter if needed.”

“Would it be alright? It’s bad enough the schedule keeps changing.” Glancing at the paper and to the calendar, Tsukauchi stared at your tired eyes. “With this, the Fukuo Kai case will commence a week from now. Are you ready to focus on Nighteye’s?”

“From the middle, I have been focusing on their case. I just didn’t expect it to happen too soon.” Playing with the hems of your sweater, you rested your elbows on your knees and covered your face. “Wanna go to the rooftop?”

“Not thinking of bailing now, are you?” Tsukauchi said as he began to clear his desk and stand up. “What’s on your mind, hmm?”

“I just met with 2 people I shouldn’t have any business with.” You weakly chuckle as you lead the way to the rooftop. Opening the doors, you felt your breathing grow heavy. The sudden claminess of the narrow pathway was not good for your running mind. Holding onto Tsukauchi’s sleeve, you were more than thankful he was willing to listen.

Taking the final step, Tsukauchi unlocked the hatch and granted access to the rooftop. The night sky was still dark and barely held any stars. Light pollution framed the horizon while the street lamps casted a yellow-orange glow to the roads below.

“What happened?”

“Levi specifically told the heroes not to mess with my work.” You began. “It went well but not for long. I had to bug the Shie Hassaikai after a few days Levi left. Only an idiot would refuse knowing my stance with the two parties.”

“Was it successful?”

“It was. The anon tip we had from before was Chronostasis. He gave me Overhaul’s sim card and I kinda just took the opportunity to let him plant the chip for me. It was going smoothly till a few hours ago. Nighteye told me that they were still getting feedback even though Chrono destroyed the device.”

“Where did things go wrong? It just seems like a loyalty test to me.”

“I don’t even know if I passed at this point.” Taking your phone out, you opened the gallery and showed him the picture of the hidden camera. “They bugged me. I’m not certain if they saw what went on inside my unit but the fact that they saw him entering and exiting as he pleases makes my blood boil.”

“Then it means they saw his face?” His eyes widened.

“As far as I know, he only took his mask off around the living room area, his room, or mine.” Trying to recall, each time he entered the kitchen he used the other door connecting to the living room. Thank the quirk gods your apartment was designed that way. “I don’t even know if it transmits audio.”

Squatting on the floor you rubbed your face once more and raked your fingers through your hair. Pulling on the clumps a bit, you released a small shaky sigh.

“I’m guessing the second person you met was the reason for all this?” Tsukauchi took the initiative and sat on the empty space beside you. “What happened with him?”

“He knew about Chrono helping me and about the other bug running around. Told me that heroes needed to have fun too. Bastard.” No matter how much you twisted your views, Chisaki Kai was always Overhaul first. “I… I just don’t know what to do anymore, Nao.”

Closing your eyes, a small whimper left your mouth as tears began to fall.

“Things are just so fucking complicated that I… I don’t even know what step I should do next. I want justice to prevail but no matter what I do…”

“You’ve really fallen down the rabbithole, huh?” Tsukauchi commented as he gave soft pats on your back. “Then again, who wouldn’t? You’re literally stuck in the middle and have to be on edge more than usual. Other than that, you held up pretty well.”

“I can’t even clear my name at this point. If things ever go wrong in the Shie Hassaikai raid, my name will definitely make it into the possible accomplice list.” You bit your lip and clenched your fists. “Gods I hate this so fucking much. I told him I had it under control when in reality I’m as stuck as a rat on a glue board.”

“Don’t go using that analogy.” Tsukauchi still continued to pat your back. “Think of us as hamsters. We’re pretty cute and intelligent. Just give it a bit of time and I’m sure you’ll think of something. I bet you wouldn’t want your dad to partake in any of your problems so best not to pop up in your estate.”

“I know it’s a law for heroes not to kill but what if…”

“I doubt he’ll die in battle. Overhaul is a B-Rank villain. The most that’ll happen would be for him to be knocked out unconscious or bloody at the end of the day.” Yet even as he said those words, Tsukauchi wasn’t too confident. It would be a lie on his part if he said things would be fine. “Who knows? He might have some sort of magical epiphany and surrender to lessen his charges.”

“Now that you mention it,” You wiped your tears away and sat down properly. “I’ve never really read what happens to higher rank villains after they get captured. The highest I’ve handled was just D-ranked ones.”

“Hmmm…” Now that the topic was open, he too hadn’t really thought too much about it knowing his and your department weren’t incharge of what happens after the dirty work. “Standard procedures. They’ll search the area once more and take proper inventory. Say that Overhaul is merely strained, they would pat him down and once he’s clear and in the precinct or designated area, he’ll have to sign a document signifying that the given list is all that he owns. He’ll be then taken to a private area to have his fingerprints, mug shot, and other necessary information.”

“He probably won’t get a hearing.”

“Right you are. He’ll most likely be sent to Tartarus if that’s what you’re asking.”

“If he does, who do you think would handle it? The HPSC?”

“Most likely. Still, they have a lot on their hands so his case would surely collect dust.” He paused and let out a yawn. “If it were you, would you grant him a second chance in life?”

“Heh, If it were up to me...” Looking at the now starless skies, you felt a chill run down your spine. “Personal emotions aside, of course not.”

“But?”

“You really think I’d break into Tartarus just to save one villain and give him a better life?” You smirked and stood up.

“Of course not.” He chuckled and stood up as well. “Even the dumbest person knows that’s suicide. Go home and get some rest, (y/n). We’ll handle this later in the day.”

Giving you some privacy, Tsukauchi excused himself first. Hearing the door latch click, you took your phone out and dialed a number. It only took 3 rings before the other line picked up.

“Well now,” The cheeky voice said. “What can I help you with dove?”

- - - - -

Overhaul’s waiting list: @jjk-biased @infinite-universe-love @dirtypride @blackymomo03 @azzie @purple-rabanito​ @meximorrita @awesomeee19​​ @celestial-kanzakii​ @laure-lo​ @team-wang-puppy​ @aydience-world​ @choros-main-hoe​ @colorseeingchick​ @franko-pop​ @o-dragon05 @but-kairis-not-that-smart (i cant seem to tag again :( hope this lands in your timelines!)

I hope yall liked this chapter annnd if you want to be tagged feel free to comment :’) your comments make my day and make me happy huhu <3

[thisfoolwrites]

My Altair(final)

Welcome to the end of my four part series. I purposefully left some things so you can use your imagination. I might make oneshots based on events I left out. But thank you guys for the support! DISCLAIMER: The story of Altair and Vega is not mine. It can be found here. Warnings: None Genre: All fluff for this chapter

Masterlist Part 3

Once there was a man named Altair. He lost his parents at a young age. After their death, his brothers decided to split their father's property. Altair, being the youngest, got left with nothing except an old bull. Once he was older, Altair separated himself from his brothers, bought a small field and a few cows, and with the aid of his bull, set himself to work.

{E/C} eyes lit up as they scanned the arena, a large smile on her face. It was the match that everyone had been waiting for. It was by no means the first match she had been to, but she was super excited for it. The arena was packed with fans of both teams all ready to see which team would come out on top. {Y/C} glanced around looking for the person she was supposed to meet. Two fingers poked at both of her sides causing her to let out a shriek. Before even turning around she heard the stupid laugh that she had come to know.

“That's not funny Tetsuro!” she turned and glared at him. Her glare was less than intimidating and this caused the taller male to laugh harder. “Where were you anyway stupid rooster? What happened to waiting at the gate for me?” She questioned the taller male.

“Sorry, I couldn't resist {Y/C}. You were so intrigued with the sight in front of you, you completely passed me.” He replied while wiping tears from his eyes. The two had a mini staring contest for about a minute before the smaller girl broke. “Ha! I win again!”

“You got lucky. Anyway, Will we see you after the match? I know you have to be closer to the court for work, and I promised Akaashi and Udai I'd sit with them and watch the match.” {E/C} eyes gazed into hazel as she waited for an answer.

“Yeah, you know they'd never let me live it down if I didn't come. Besides didn't you say you had big news to share with everyone?” She smiled bright and nodded.

“Yup! So that means you have to be there!” She turned to walk to her seat before stopping and turning to look at Kuroo once again. “Also, make sure Kenma comes as well! Or I'll cut his hair off next time I see him!” she hollered while running to her seat. Kuroo just chuckled and watched her run off. If you had told him five years ago he and {Hana} would be on speaking terms again, he'd call you a liar. By no means did he ever think he could repair their friendship, but somehow she had managed to forgive him. He smiled and turned and walked off to meet up with his colleges.

Akaashi looked towards the entrance to the stands. He was getting fidgety, was she late? He looked down at his hands and starting playing with his fingers. Did she get lost or worse, was she hurt? He was so lost in his thoughts he jumped as he heard her voice.

“Sorry I'm late! I couldn't find Tetsu at first.” He let out a sigh of relief. He looked at her and noticed her eyes already on the court. Of course, looking out for the person they came here for. He noticed her attire and gave a little chuckle.

“Showing some favoritism aren't you, Bokuto?” He teased, causing the girl to turn beat red. She grabbed the hem of her shirt and just smiled. She turned to face Akaashi with a big smile on her face.

“Well of course! Kou went out of his way to buy me one, so I had to wear it today. If you had one you'd wear it too, huh, Kaashi?” She teased back, causing Udai to laugh at the pair. It usually ended up like this when the two got together. They all spoke and caught up for a bit when Akaashi went and got onigiri for the trio. Once he got back and the match started she couldn't take her eyes off the court.

Every time Bokuto's spike was blocked she toyed with the ring on her necklace. It matched the one she wore on her left hand, but since jewelry wasn't allowed on the court, she wore Kotaro's on a chain around her neck. As if sensing her feelings he glanced up to the stands and locked eyes with her, causing both of them to break out in huge grins. He looked more energized and focused on the last set after that, causing  Atsumu to give her a thumbs up in the crowd. Despite not getting his typical “emo” modes anymore, he still loved seeing his wife smile down at him from the stands whenever something didn't go the way it was supposed too.

One Sunday evening, Altair sat down under an oak tree and practiced and old love melody on his flute. All of a sudden, a white dove gracefully swooped down from the sunset painted sky. When the dove landed, it turned into a beautiful young woman. When Altair saw this, he jumped. “Who are you?” exclaimed Altai! “I am sorry to have startled you. My name is Vega, princess of the heavenly skies. I heard you playing and had to come down to learn more. Who are you?” Altair replied, “Princess Vega, my name is Altair, a lowly cow herder.” “Altair the cow herder, you are a beautiful musician! Please play that melody again.” So Altair did, and every day for two months, Vega would descend from the Heavens at sunrise and ascend right before nightfall since Vega, being a heavenly being, was not allowed to interact with mortals.

Bokuto braced himself once he saw a {H/C} blur running his way. He held his hands out to catch her with ease, as if he had been doing this for a whole lifetime. He would catch her however many times she would run to him. He held held her under her thighs to keep her in the air. She in turn wrapped her legs around his waist and her hands around his neck, both with a huge smile on their face.

“You did so good out there Kou!” she exclaimed, “That over the shoulder shot was amazing!” He just rested his forehead on her shoulder and listened to her recount the game to him. Her years of being a manger payed off because now she knew all the terms and exactly how to use them. The rest of his team watched the interaction with smiles on their face. Meian cleared his throat and caused Bokuto to stiffen and place his wife on the floor(they both pouted at this). {Y/N} turned her attention to Hinata after that.

“Congrats on your first game Hinata!” she told him with a smile. He smiled at her and gave her a shy thank you. Despite being friends with Kenma for so long, he never really had any interactions with his older sister. He had heard that she had gotten married from Kenma, but never knew it was to Bokuto.

“Congrats to you too as well. I'm sorry I didn't keep in touch much over the last few years. But Kenma told me was wedding was beautiful.” He responded. Kenma had also said it was beautiful because he made sure {Y/N} got what she wanted. After the fiasco with Kuroo he never wanted to see his sister cry again, and was glad to see her happy with Bokuto.

“Thank you! It was small, but everything we needed. Anyway, I'll let you guys get changed. Oh also, Kou, Tetsu said he was coming tonight and he will be bringing Kenma!” She told him with a smile before walking back to Akaashi.

“I don't see why I'm not invited Bokuto!” Atsumu grumbled once they were in the locker room. Causing everyone, minus Hinata, to groan. Meian slapped the setter on the back of his head. Bokuto just smiled and turned to him.

“Sorry TsumTsum, {Y/N} said only close friends and family.” He apologized with a smile. Once they had finished getting changed they all walked out and ignored Atsumu's grumblings of 'Were a team so were a family stupid Bokuto'. Once they had gotten outside he scanned the area for his friends. There standing together were Kuroo, {Y/N}, and Akaashi. The latter two laughing at the expense of the tall rooster most likely. It took Bokuto longer to forgive Kuroo than it had been for {Y/N} to. She explained to him that she didn't want to continue hating him. While she had never tried to see things from Kuroo's view, she had never really fought him on his decision to keep their summer a secret. That was on her and that's why she chose to forgive him.

“Hey!” they called breaking him out of his thoughts. They all smiled at him and all negative thoughts vanished. “Kenma called, he’s meeting us at the restaurant. Are you ready to go?” She asked taking her husbands hand. He held his tightly and nodded.

“Yeah! I've been waiting for this all day! Also cant wait to hear your announcement! You've been ignoring the topic all week!” he pouted. {Hana} Just laughed and shook her head as they all headed to the train.

“If I told you already there would have been no need for this dinner you goof.” The other too just nodded.

“I tried getting it out of her before the game.” Kuroo added.

“I asked as work yesterday and she shut me down as well.” Akaashi threw in. {Y/N} Just smiled in victory as they boarded the train to the restaurant.

One day Vega's mother, the Lady of the Sky, got suspicious of Vega's whereabouts. So shge send a messenger to follow her who discovered that Vega was interacting with a mortal. He quickly reported back to the Lady of the Sky. She was so furious that she descended to Altair's field, found Vega, and dragged her back home. Altair was stunned by what he had seen. He started running to find Vega when he heard a voice calling his name. He turned around to see his bull. “Old bull you speak? How? Did Vega give you some of her magic?” Altair asked. Yes. And I know you love her. Get on my back, and we will go to the heavens.” replied the bull. Altair climbed on the bulls back and they took off towards the heavens. The Lady of the Sky noticed, so to stop them, she used her magic to turn the pathway into a river{now known as the Heavenly River or Milky Way). Altair came to the edge of the river and shared a final look with Vega. They both started weeping, wishing there was a way they could be together.

As told, Kenma was waiting outside the restaurant they had chosen. Smiling {Y/N} let go of Bokuto's hand and ran to her bother. He let a small smile grace his face and gave her a hug. After the “incident”, as it had been dubbed, the two had gotten closer. He made sure to ask what she wanted to do instead of just making decisions for the pair. That's what led him to pay for the wedding, leaving the couple to finance the honeymoon. After the initial greetings, they made their way inside and to their table.

Small talk was shared, mostly about the game that was just played, and talks about future projects that Akaashi and {Y/N} would be working on soon. She considered herself lucky to have Akaashi working with her at the publishing company with her. The boys at the table ordered some beer and looked at {Y/N} with surprise when she declined to have one.

Bokuto knew that with what happened in her third year she didn't drink that much, but at celebrations she usually had one drink. Akaashi figured it out first and just stared at her for a good minute before smiling, giving Kuroo and Kenma the final push they needed to figure it out. The three boys turned to the fourth watching the gears in his head work. Despite what people would like to believe, Bokuto is not dumb. However, after a four set game, his mind was working pretty slow.

“Oh, by the way Kou,” {Y/N} began with a mischievous look, knowing the others had figured it out, “We need to clean out the third room soon. And we need to start looking into what color we want to paint it.” With that final nudge, it clicked. Bokuto dropped his chopsticks and just stared at his wife. Tears welling up in his eyes before he moved over and hugged her. She hugged him back, tears of her own in her eyes.

“I know we haven't been married that long, but I know you'll make a great dad.” she whispered to him softly, looking to the others, who also had tears in their eyes. No words needed to be spoken in that moment the congratulations written in their eyes. In high school she had tried to find her Altair, not knowing that he would find her in the end.

When Vega's father, the Emperor of the Sky, saw their love, he became sympathetic. Hoping to fulfill his love, he created a wide bridge of magpies across the river. Now, Altair and Vega wait for the day they cross the river and are together once more.

Taglist: @samkysnks​ @aurorahoneybuns​

[fan-fantasies]

Strength

A/N: Part 2 to Weakness. 

Pairing: Sigtryggr x Reader

Warnings: Smut, pregnancy

Masterlist

Part One

Sigtryggr dispatched the Danes back to Wales, assuring them that he’d be joining them soon. Uhtred spoke with his men trying to figure out what had snapped in the young Dane to cause him to abandon the kingdom and search for some woman. Sihtric suggested that you were his sister, or some other kin. 

“I don’t think she’s his sister. Crazy like that is caused from losing the woman you love,” Finan sighed. 

“He said he had no wife,” Osferth said. 

“And I can say I have no balls, doesn’t make it true,” Finan chuckled. 

“I’d believe you,” Sihtric said. Finan punched the man in his shoulder and rolled his eyes. The men quieted down as they saw Sigtryggr approaching. 

“We should leave immediately,” he said, grabbing a canteen and filling it with water. 

“And where exactly are we going?” Uhtred asked. “We do not know where she went. We do not know her so we don’t know how she thinks or where she would go.” 

“I’ve been thinking about where she might go. I know that she had knowledge of the Danes settled in East Anglia. They would be the closest and safest option for her to seek refuge with,” he answered. 

“And who is she to you exactly? We have some wagers goin’,” Finan asked. Sigtryggr paused and debated on whether or not he should tell them. He knew that any wife or child could be used against him which is why he had been adamant about not having either, at least not for a long while. He wanted to live in safety and peace, limiting the threat to those he loved. 

Before he could answer, however, Haesten wandered over on his horse before he was set to leave. 

“Off to find Sigtryggr’s whore? Best of luck, Uhtred. I do hope that we meet again,” he smiled. Sigtryggr went to grab his sword but Uhtred stopped him. Haesten just laughed as he rode off with the other Danes. Osferth sighed and tossed the grinning Finan a coin.

“I don’t know how you haven’t killed him yet,” Sigtryggr said to Uhtred. 

“Trust me, his day will come and it will come soon,” he said. 

“She is not my whore. She should be my wife but I was blinded by my fear and now I may have lost her forever. I want to make a decent journey before nightfall, so if we could be on our way.” The men went and mounted their horses, setting off for East Anglia. Uhtred hoped that you were going that way, but none of them truly knew for sure. 

Meanwhile, you were still at the nunnery. You found that their company was soothing and you were of use to them. Many of them were older and found it hard to do the yard work which you gladly took over. You left them to their prayers and they left you to your thoughts. You knew that you couldn’t stay there forever, but for now would do.

You wondered if Sigtryggr had noticed your absence yet. Perhaps you had made your decision to leave too quickly. You supposed that he had a right to know about his child, but you knew that it would be a distraction for him. He was making a name for himself in England and he still had more to do before he could settle down. 

You were fine with living a simple life with your child if it meant that your love could achieve glory for his name. You knew many women had to sacrifice things for those they love, and happiness just had to be yours. 

You were broken from your thoughts when Sister Eawynn knocked on your door. 

“Supper is ready, dear,” she said. She was the only one that you had really opened up to there. She found you crying in the garden and comforted you. She felt bad for your situation and treated you kindly. 

She told you how the Danes that lived near by were not troublesome and that she felt times were truly changing. Perhaps one day soon, Saxons and Danes could live together in peace. You weren’t sure that it would happen soon, but you knew that the younger generation of Danes was tired of all the bloodshed. Victory could be won in many other ways. You told her that that’s how your Sigtryggr was. He had seen the hardships of battle and knew that sometimes words were the way to success. She took your hand in hers and smiled softly, telling you that he sounded like a good man. He was, you agreed, but you couldn’t interfere with his life any longer. 

You ate very little that night and had trouble finding sleep. You decided to sit in the moonlight for a while to ease your mind. The night was chilly, but not uncomfortably so. You took a seat under a large tree to sit and listen to the silence. You ended up dozing off with your cloak wrapped tightly around your shoulders. 

Off in the distance, Sigtryggr and the others continued to ride in the darkness. Finan was complaining that they should find somewhere to camp for the night but Sigtryggr kept asking them to ride just a bit longer. Finan was relieved when they saw the lantern in the window of the nunnery. Uhtred wasn’t thrilled by the sight, knowing nuns aren’t usually his biggest fans. 

They rode to the gate and knocked on the door, hoping someone was awake. Sister Eawynn opened the door a crack and looked out. 

“What do you want?” She asked. 

“We wish to lodge here for the night. Some food and ale would be appreciated,” Finan answered. 

“We will be gone by morning,” Sigtryggr quickly added. The nun looked them up and down and sighed before opening the door. 

“We don’t have ale, nor much food, but you are welcome to stay the night.” She led them to the main hall and gave them from bread and water. The men were grateful to have a place to rest out of the elements, even if the majority of them felt uncomfortable in such a religious place. 

“Thank you, sister,” Osferth bowed his head. She gave him a soft smile and turned her attention to the other, more rough looking, men of the group. 

“Do I get to know whom I am feeding?” She questioned. 

“I am Uhtred Ragnarson, these are my men, Finan, Sihtric, and Osferth,” he pointed to the tired men. 

“I am Sigtryggr, Lord of Wales,” he said. 

“Sigtryggr?” The holy woman repeated. He nodded, confused at her sudden question. “May I ask to where you are journeying to?” 

“East Anglia, to the Danes that are settled there. I am going there to join my... wife.” Sigtryggr’s eyes fell to the floor at his fib. 

“Your wife, you say? She wouldn’t happen to be about yea high, (Y/H/C) hair, pretty girl?” She asked. Sigtryggr jumped to his feet and ran to the woman, startling her. 

“You’ve seen her?!” 

“She sleeps here this very night. I am only telling you this because she made you out to sound like a good man and I know that a good man will make things right by that dear girl,” she said. The men looked at each other in surprise. Sigtryggr could hardly contain his excitement. He hadn’t considered that you might not even want to see him. You did flee from him after-all. 

“Please, take me to her. I do wish to make things right.” She led him down the hall to your makeshift chamber. She knocked on the door and when she heard no response, she opened it slowly. 

“(Y/N), are you awake?” She whispered. She opened the door wider and noticed that you weren’t in your bed. Sigtryggr pushed past her and into the room. He noticed that your bag was still there but you were not. 

“Where could she have gone?” He questioned in a panic. Had you heard them come in and fled in the night? Did you really not want to be with him that terribly? 

He ran back to the hall where the other men were already dozing off. 

“She isn’t here. We have to leave now, we can probably find her.” 

“In the dark when we’re all exhausted? Why don’t we wait until morning,” Finan suggested, leaning his head back against the wall. 

“Because she is out there somewhere. She could be in danger!” 

“Who’s in danger?” The frantic man whipped around when he heard the voice. He wasted no time in running over to you and scooping you up in his arms. “Sigtryggr? How did you find me?” 

“By the fate of the Gods,” he sighed in relief. The nun pursed her lips and shook her head. 

“Why? Why did you come after me?” You asked. You were still disoriented from just waking up and you didn’t know how you should react. 

“Because I love you and you ran from me,” he lowered his voice, “and took something of mine with you, I hear.”

“Haesten,” you sighed. You looked at the other men standing behind him and recognized Uhtred but not the others. “Maybe we should let these men rest. We can talk in my room.”

“Thank you, lady,” Osferth said. You told Sister Eawynn that she had nothing to worry about and led Sigtryggr to your room.

“I’m sorry I left without a word but I couldn’t ruin your chance at glory. I couldn’t be the cause of your weakness,” you admitted. He cradled your face in his hands and made you look into his eyes.

“You are my strength. You could never be my weakness, not you nor our child growing inside of you,” he said. A tear slipped down your cheek and he kissed it away.

“But you said-”

“I know what I said, but times are changing. Life no longer has to be endless battles and bloodshed. I will lead our people into a new era of victory, with you by my side as my wife. And I will create a new world for our child.” By the end of his speech you were bawling. He was saying everything you had ever wanted to hear but it all seemed too good to be true.

“Surely it can’t be that simple,” you told him.

“No, it won’t be simple, but I won’t give up. Not on that dream nor on you. I should’ve made you my wife long ago, and now I’m asking your forgiveness.” You collapsed into his arms and sobbed. Damn pregnancy emotions.

“Of course. Of course I forgive you. As long as you can forgive me for leaving,” you said.

“There’s no reason to apologize. You wanted what you thought was best for me and I could never be angry at you for that,” he replied. You said nothing more, just pulled him into a kiss.

He sat on the bed and sat you in his lap. The kiss was hungry and passionate, like neither of you could get enough. He broke the kiss and began to nip at your neck.

“I could never live without you.” His voice was breathless and raspy. His hands touched any part of you that he could get, trying to memorize every inch as if you were going to disappear.

You pulled your dress up around your hips as you straddled him. You fumbled with his pants, pulling his cock from it’s confines.

“There’s no rush, my love,” he chuckled.

“No, I need you. I need you now. We’ll have all the time in the world for patience later,” you said.

“All the time in this world and Valhalla,” he replied. He hissed in pleasure as you sank down on his cock. He filled you perfectly, like the gods made him just for you.

You began to ride him, slowly at first, savoring the feeling of him inside you. You began to move faster, his breath quickening, filling the room with sounds of pleasure.

His fingers dug into your ass in the most delicious way as he guided you on his cock. Pressure was building in your stomach as you approached your release. He pulled you in for another kiss when he felt your pussy clenching him tighter.

His hips lifted to meet yours at the perfect moment, sending you over the edge. Your head fell back and your vision went white for a split second. You were brought back down to earth when Sigtryggr flipped you onto your back.

“Did you think I was done with you?” He growled in your ear. He thrusted into your sensitive pussy, your body arching off the bed. His hands found yours and held them over your head as he pounded into you.

Your body writhed beneath him as you could already feel your second climax approaching. His hair tickeled your neck and the sensation was enough to overload your senses. Your legs locked around his waist, not being able to stop the scream of ecstasy that tore from your throat. His rhythm began to stutter until he finally stilled within you, finding his own release.

No words were exchanged, just the sounds of your breathing. He laid next to you and held you in his arms. His hand settled on your stomach and a small smile found it’s way to your lips. For the first time in a long time you felt at peace, like everything would be okay. Maybe there was strength in love after all.

——————————————————————

Sigtryggr Taglist: @ivarinleatherpants

TLK Taglist: @cornervase

[jean-does-not-have-a-horseface]

Before Dawn ~Pt3~

Please enjoy part three bc part four is coming sooner than you think 👉👈

@hidehaskak here is your tag sweetheart, as promised

Warnings: none I think

Shaggy Hair

After that eventful night of your past concerning confessions you find yourself hanging out in Levi's office almost every evening after the curfew bells ring. It's sort of an unspoken bond even; you catch up to him after dinner with panted breaths and you offer him a cup of tea in exchange of his company, a simple deal he never turns down.

Thus this night so far is not different than the others. You're sitting with a straight back on his loveseat couch and sip on your tea while staring at nothing in particular. Your eyes often travel to Levi's direction, who's turned his back on you to work on his paperwork. His form is illuminated by the soft, warm candle light that flickers now and then by sudden wintery breezes of air that burst through slits in the windows making his onyx hair, that fall in teeny v shaped strands on the nape of his neck, sway.

Your train of thoughts travels to your hair next, inevitably finding yourself comparing to Levi and his level of perfectionism. In the past few months it's gotten way longer, shaggier than your usual maintenance length, something that you don't particularly regret, but it gives you the urge to seek a change. Maybe looking like another version of you will help you feel better, refreshed even.

"What are you thinking about? You sure are abnormally silent tonight " Levi, even though he wishes you were more talkative, understands you are a quiet, peace loving person. Sometimes you only hum in response to his words and then apologize because you don't want him to think you're brushing him off, even though he's aware that's not the case. But this moment, it's rather different. There's something off in particular about your current behavior that he can sense without even having to turn around.

With knees curled up to your chin you only bubble in response. "Nothing, maybe I just need a haircut. That's all."

This time he turns his chair around to look at you, one hand strongly grabbing the wooden edge to support his whole weight. He looks at you in a rather strange way and you don't know why but you feel weird. As you expect of him to come up with some sarcastic remark about him not being a damned barber you watch as his expression softens by each passing second. His eyebrows don't furrow anymore, as per usual and his orbs seem dilated in an amusement expressing way.

"Come to think of it, it's nice having your hair down your shoulders as the wind hits you right?"

You simply nod in response, your top lip feeling stuck to your bottom one. With ogling eyes you watch as Levi gets up from his chair and walks to the direction of the couch you're sat at. He sits himself down, softly, as if not to disturb you and crosses his right leg over his left one. It's in the swift of a move that his left palm shoots to the crook of your neck where your hair rests, before stopping absurdly, inches before your strands.

"You look nice.. with your hair down, that being said what I mean is-" His usual, cold, silverly blue eyes soften by each passing second they spend fixated on your form. You're puzzled by the fact that he's looking at you like this, whatever that look's indicating is something you try to convince yourself you're oblivious to.

"You like saying that being said right?" You question. Momentarily you probably don't think about what the fact that you're picking up small details about him means, but unbeknownst to you, he's taken aback.

No one has ever taken time to notice small things about him, seeing his cold and unresponsive, insensitive facade that threw everyone off. It was his form of emotional self defense and seeing someone so easily see through his walls or even be able to break holes in them was somewhat a new feeling he had yet to adjust to.

The hand that reaches for your loose strands of hair finally finds a spot at the top of your head, through your shaggy front bangs. A sigh escapes your mouth and adjusts your lips into a playful pout, much to Levi's liking. Maybe he won't admit it but he's kind of mesmerized by the way your (e/c) colored eyes look in this dim lit moment.

Upon seeing his lack of response and startled expression you assume you've taken things too far. Supposing he's still your superior officer even after curfew, you've acted very disrespectfully by sassing him out on a noble habit of his. The hand that rests on your head might show otherwise, you know it's a solid response of affection but you choose to actively blind yourself from it. There's no way you're looking at him with the same adoration he's looking at you and your heart painfully throbs at that.

Whether it's too early on in your acquaintance, or because you fear that everything's in vain, or even because you like to belittle yourself out of pure habit, you cannot accept that this man can look at you in a different, warmer even, light.

Thus, with a cough that throws his hand away and an apology you excuse yourself before he manages to respond, or probably assign you with any extra duty for the week. He's unpredictable with his reactions, that you know for sure you can't close your eyes on.

_____

"You want me to to smoke, come again, tea with you?"

This is, ridiculous, to say at least. Henning and Tomas are really going out of their way for the latter to make an astonishing move on you, much to their avail and it's kind of pathetic, but you're in no place to judge. You've tried to stop the duo way too many times for all the sanity you've got.

"Exactly!"

"No!" You poorly exclaim "Plus the corporal is going to end us if he finds out! This is tea we're talking about."

"Oh stop being so hung upon that man and have a little fun with us. You don't have to smoke, just join us."

Your chest feels heavy at the mention of Levi's name. Either Tomas and Henning are stalking you or the girls are gossiping way too much about where you're lost at almost every single night. Neither of them are going to understand that you're only befriending the stoic, newly entitled corporal, instead of seducing him. Plus Tomas would be terribly heartbroken were you in a place to admit to anything you've started to feel about the raven haired man.

"Why don't you have fun with Gelgar?" Your arms unfold from the bound you've forced them into under your bussom in defeat as you examine the looks on both of your friends' faces. Joining them in their fun never hurt anyone. Naturally the next thing you find your self doing is sitting outside their barracks silently giggling to Tomas' childhood story about trying to ride a running chicken.

Henning's arms wrap around both you and Tomas, bringing you closer, while he throws his head back in a rather loudly exhaled laughter. You often wonder what your life would be without all the people you've come across, better yet your family like friends. In moments like these you feel as if your whole life has been filled with friends and fun.

"Stable duty until further notice"

The eerily stern voice that shakes you off your thoughts belongs to no other than Levi himself, who's standing right behind Henning with his hand covering his face in frustration. So much for not wanting to get caught and have a little fun.

_____

"Ah fuck" Your sigh surely catches Levi's attention as you bury your head in your palms in annoyance and defeat. He's unsure whether letting you off the hook or not is the right choice to make as he's got no idea what being lenient with cadets is going to do to him as a corporal. His mind is strangely often caught up on what his duties as a corporal should be, even though they shouldn't be any different than the one of the notorious thug in the underground.

Nonetheless not only does he have to adjust to being a military higher up, he also has to cope up with youngsters, who enjoy disobeying just out of hormonal spite. As if paperwork is not taking a toll on him as well, you really have to make him face you as a superior after having just punched a place in his non military related life.

He throws a soft, alarming kick at crook of your back, paying extra care in not actually hurting you. In turn you feel the tickling on his leather covered foot dance on your cold skin, signaling you to stand up from your sitting position.

"What was that?" He sighs. "Laps until dawn."

"What? I wasn't the one smoking!"

Your voice pierces his ears when you loudly whine out and for a fragment of a second he can't believe his ears. He takes an intimidating step towards you and watches as your chests almost collide as he looks at you with a soul crushing stare.

"I hope you like tunning because you're not stopping until I think you've got it through your thick skull that you should stand up for your comrades. Not only your self!"

"But!"

Levi, even tough he wants to be mad at whatever you're pulling with him, feels his will leave his body by looking your form up and down. With one foot scratching the ground behind the other, hands crossed behind your back and a guilt driven averted gaze you're making him not want to be harsh on you. You're leading him on to make a decision to your liking, with the way you slowly come close to him, making his heart skip a beat inside its skeleton prison. Almost, lustfully he watches as you rip a chapped piece of flesh from your lips with your teeth, causing blood to rush and puff them up. It may all have happened in a second but to him it felt like a torturous eternity of being stripped of any strict will he had against you.

But he shouldn't give in. Whether you're doing this on purpose or not, he won't give in. You're acting like a pleading puppy and he knows that giving in is going to disconcert his title. He should make known to you that he calls the shots in the professional relationship between the two of you, so with a deep breath that fills his lungs of oxygen and scrunches his nostrils wide open he reaches his hand under your chin and positions your head to his eye level.

Tomas and Henning are watching wide, surprise ridden eyes as the corporal puts his hands on your chin and burns hole into your face. Tomas is almost taking a step forward, unsure of what this gesture between the shorter man and you means, ready to jump into the situation to take your side at any given time. Levi definitely notices the tention in the air, but he never lets go of your chin, he never breaks eye contact either.

"You expect to be treated differently by pleading like a dog after acting like a child. I'm not punishing you for that. Im punishing you for disrespecting curfew, your superior and putting your personal profit before your team's. Now, start running."

In the blink of an eye the mesmerizing moment the two of you have shared is gone like an overused burnt out candle. Levi suddenly feels the frozen breeze of the night engulf him and decides to stand tall to his legs before gesturing to the two other males that they should take off to their barracks to which they respond with a reluctant nod. Tomas' throat tightens and his chest stiffens as he passes him by but Levi chooses to ignore it.

With an almost mechanical shift of a movement he falls with his back on the wooden barrack wall and crosses his arms on his chest in casual manner. The rest of the night is spent with him watching over as you pantingly run around the dirty soil, running tireless laps with sparring him the occasional death glare.

______

Your legs can't hold the weight of your body as you wait for Mike to reply to your knocking on his door. You don't have it in you. Your muscles spasm in spurs that run down your knees and come back in before you even manage to blink.

The familiar flash of golden hair blurs your vision as you look up to your squad leader the moment he opens the door to let you in. It's safe to say he doesn't want to endure whatever odor your skin's emitting right now, the salty drops of sweat you've wiped of your face are not an indicator that you've stopped reeking of the disgusting smell. Thus, Mike can immediately tell that something is somewhat wrong with you and he demands an explanation.

"Well Le- Captain Levi punished me for violating curfew, disrespecting him, and putting myself before of my comrades. He will come to check with you on my situation, he said."

Mike sighs and he closes his eyes at the hearing of your words, considering Levi's newly profound liking in giving you harsh punishments. It throws him off, in a way. You're a good soldier, Levi wearing you down excessively, should be off limits, and even if you do lack some basic discipline it's only in moments when you don't know how to act.

"Ah, look, Levi must have had a reason to punish you."

"I promise sir, I was whining about my punishment." You scoff, feelings your legs tremble with each passing minute.

"I know you weren't." He assures you. A knock can be heard before the door opens, only to reveal Levi walking towards Mike's office in all his might.

"Speak of the devil, you'll be joining Levi on the next training mission in the mountains. Both you and him haven't received that particular training and I don't like that you lack this from your papers. I'm not taking any chances with you on your survival either, you're a good soldier."

For the thousandth time today, you let out a deep sigh. Your eyes stare deep into Levi's bored ones as you try to bring your hands to salute your commanding officers. Your mind refuses to acknowledge your wish though, your shaky hands fall limp on both sides of your body so you chose to simply nod. Your body relaxes in the depths of the chair you're sat at, ignorant to whoever is watching. You can't physically bring yourself to care about the consequences of your actions before your superiors.

If Mike sees the way Levi's tense eyes watch your panted breaths go in and out of your heavy chest he never speaks a word.

My requests are open so you know what to do if you want to see more of my writing ❤️ thank you for reading I appreciate you very much

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

After the Bombs Fall [Animorphs ficlet]

[Note: I seem to have lost the ask where someone requested my post-war headcanon for Alloran, but anyway here it is.]

--

Less than a month after the end of the war, Alloran applies for transfer off of Earth and back to the homeworld.  When the first request gets cancelled due to a minor typo in a sub-section of a supplemental form, he curses himself and immediately applies again.

The second application lingers in the metaphorical z-space between agents for longer, nearly two Earth months, before it gets cancelled as well.  The systems are overtaxed due to the sudden influx of Earth tourism, the form letter tells him this time, and they’re very sorry for their inability to accommodate his request.

The third time he applies, the form remains “under review” on the submission portal for half a year, even though the review process normally takes less than a day.  So he applies a fourth time, a terrible suspicion taking hold by now.  The Electorate automatically cancels both applications, and has the gall to send him a snippy comm message asking that he refrain from filing redundant claims from now on.

The fifth application gets reviewed and cancelled; the sixth one doesn’t even get that courtesy.  It just stays there, “submitted” but not yet “under review,” unwanted and ignored.

Just like its author.

Alloran considers, then.  For nearly a day he paces, watching the andalite computer and the primitive human device alike, and weighs the merits of stealing Visser Three’s Blade ship out of the impound lot.  It wouldn’t be hard; the security system is coded to biometrics.  No one but he or Tom Berenson could fly that ship now, and Tom Berenson is dead.

After another day, Alloran instead morphs human and walks to the nearest CVS.

He has to swallow an entire jumbo bag of marshmallows and three jars of tomato sauce for comfort before he can swallow his pride as well.  But the comfort food does its trick, and at the end he pulls out the human cell phone still registered under one of Esplin 9466′s aliases and enters the fifth speed-dial option.

“Hey, you.”  Eva answers immediately.  “How’s it going?”

They don’t know each other, not really.  And yet in every one of their three conversations, Eva has greeted him like an old friend.  Her voice brings a reaction to Alloran’s human morph: tightness in his throat, the heat of tears behind his eyes.

“I apologize for troubling you,” Alloran says stiffly.  “Please, if you are busy, disregard this request.”

Eva snorts a laugh.  At least, Alloran thinks that that’s what the sound is.  “I’m not busy, and I owe you a favor anyway.  Shoot.”

Alloran glances around the room, but there are no weapons, so he decides to disregard that last.  “I am truly sorry if it slipped my mind,” he says, “but what favor do you owe?”

“My kid is not in jail on some foreign planet right now, and I hear that’s all your fault.  What’s the favor?”

“The War Council would not have imprisoned the Animorphs.  That is, perhaps Aximili and Prince Jake may have been imprisoned, but doubtless the full Electorate court would have proven merciful—”

“Alloran.  What’s the favor.”

He’s stalling, and she knows it.  “It’s a bit of a complicated political matter, and I’m afraid I am not well equipped to explain it to a human, but enforcement of our travel policies is more subject to individual agents’ personal judgment than we ideally would have it be, and...”

“Hijo de puta.  They’re not letting you go home, are they?”

Alloran fills his human lungs with more air than they technically need for speech.  “It’s a complicated matter.”  Nevertheless, his voice comes out small.

“You still camping at the Sharing Community Center?”

“Yes.”  His voice is even smaller now.

“I’ll be there in half an hour, querido.”  She hangs up.

While he waits, he goes outside to run, to graze, to stare up at the stars.

He didn’t lie; it is complicated.  The Andalite Electorate is struggling to recover from a decades-long war, one that threatened the existence of their very soul as a people.  Seerow’s mistakes — and Alloran’s own decision to publicize the failings of his prince — have ensured that the whole debacle was a massive embarrassment even before the defeat on the hork-bajir homeworld.

And then...

He’s heard the word, whispered and hissed and screamed and shouted.

Abomination.

Abomination.

His face is the public face of the Yeerk Empire.  His voice is its voice.  The morph he was just using — a bald, middle-aged human male — was constructed from the DNA of a dozen human-controllers.  Everything he owns, from the black limousine parked at the curb to the press pass of a woman called Aria, was taken from the hands of murdered slaves.

Of course his people don’t want him back.  Of course not.  The quantum virus was one thing, but then he had the gall go to and get himself captured by the yeerks.  And he’d added insult to injury when he’d challenged a captain on Aximili’s behalf.

He can see it.  That’s what stings.  He can stare up at the glittering point of his home star even as he runs across a field of dull foreign grass, and at this rate it’ll never be anything but a fixed point of light in an unfamiliar sky ever again.

Eva shows up then, before he can feel too sorry for himself.

She brings a human substance known as pinot noir.

**********

“And then...”  Eva points a wavering finger at him.  Her words have gotten blurrier over time.  “And then, we just sneak it in, and bam!”  She slaps the tabletop.

Alloran leans in across to her.  “Bam,” he agrees.

“You needed a ride home?”

At the new voice, Alloran stands up sharply.  Too sharply.  He gets his two flimsy little legs tangled in the chair and almost pitches over.

Marco catches him.  “You all right?” he asks.

“I,” Alloran intones, “am intoxicated.  Tox.  I.  Cate.  Ed.  Wonderful word.  Intock.  Sick.  Kate.  Dd-d-d-d-d.”

“Yeeeaah, I was getting those vibes from the—”  Marco leans around him in an impressive display of human balance.  “Bottle of wine apiece you two’ve apparently emptied.”

Eva draws herself up.  “I did not call and request a ride home, I called and requested a ride to the Netherlands!”

“You’re right, you did.”  Marco rolls his eyes.  “Which is why I made the decision to show up and bring you home instead.”

“No, no, the Netherlands.”  Eva steps up next to Alloran.  They both regard Marco carefully.  “Not to worry, we’ve thought it through.  You call your friend with the private plane, Bradley or Bradford or whomever his name is.  We fly out to the Hague tonight.”

“Where is this going,” Marco mutters.

“Holland,” Alloran informs him.  “It is-sssss in...”

“Yeah, I’ve been.”

“Anyway.”  Eva gestures sharply, bringing attention back to her.  “We shall have a perfectly ordinary canister of table salt with us, and we shall request to visit with Visser Three—”

“Oh Jesus.  Mom.”

“The guards will not suspect a thing, for it is just an ordinary condiment.  All we must then do is create a diversion, and...”  Eva flings out both hands as if miming an explosion.

“Splat,” Alloran says.  “Pllll-lat.  Hissssss.”

“And this will accomplish what, exactly?” Marco asks.

“Making Alloran feel better,” Eva whispers to him.  However, she seems to be whispering a great deal louder than she realizes.  Humans are ill-equipped for private communication, with their sad reliance on verbal speech.  “None of the andalites want him back.”

“Yeah.  Cool.”  Marco laughs.  “Ten out of ten therapists recommend war crimes for a friend in need!  And as a guy who’s been to at least ten therapists, I’d know.”

Alloran is not certain, but he believes that Marco might be employing the human verbal quirk known as “sarcasm.”

“No one will suspect a thing.”  Eva pats him on the shoulder.

Marco sighs.  “Security will just think it’s cocaine.”

“Cocaine?” Alloran asks.  “Coke-cane?  Co-c-c-c-c-c-c-aine?”

“Something you’re never going to try.”  Marco levels a hard stare at him.  “Given how well you handle your red wine.”

“Cooo-caaayyy-nnnee.  Co-cane.”

“How did you get wrapped up in this dumbass heist, anyway?”  Marco looks from one of them to the other.

“Alloran needed me,” Eva says.

“I have no friends,” Alloran announces.  “And Arbron does not own a cell phone.  Ell.  Elffffff-own.”

Marco closes his main eyes for several seconds, massaging the bridge of his nose.  An impressive feat of daring, for a creature with no stalk eyes who relies upon bipedalism.  “Should’ve known you’d be a morose drunk,” he says.

“So, you’ll take us to the airfield, then?” Eva asks.

Lifting his head up, Marco opens his eyes.  “In the words of my wise and estimable mother: if you want it that bad, you can have it when you’re sober.”

Eva opens her mouth halfway, squinting in what Alloran would guess is the effort of remembering when she would have said that.  After a second, her expression clears.  “I was right to say it, that floozy would have broken your heart in the morning, and this situation is entirely different!”

“That floozy’s name was Jake Gyllenhaal,” Marco mutters, “and I totally would’ve gone for it when I was sober, but I never got his number.”

Eva says something in Spanish, presumably about the loose morals of Jake Gyllenhaal.  Marco’s expression would suggest that he only pretends not to understand her.

“Anyway.  The point stands.  I’m driving you home.”  Marco jerks his chin at Eva.  “And you,” he says, looking at Alloran, “are gonna morph and sober up before we go anywhere.  I’m not having you nothlited on my conscience.”

“But,” Alloran says, “the salt—”

“We’ll revisit the salt in the morning,” Marco says firmly.  “Demorph.  Please.”

Alloran considers pointing out that he is a war-prince, he does not take orders from alien children, he has his pride... And then considers whether any of those statements is actually true.

He demorphs.

Instantly, he feels both better and worse.  On the upside he’s more clear-headed now, but on the downside he’s more clear-headed.

“I’ll call you.”  Marco gives him a long look while shepherding Eva out the door.

**********

Marco does not call, but he does send several written missives to Alloran’s cell phone.  The Animorphs still have an illegal andalite communication device, it would appear, and Marco has put in requests to channels both official and not about the possibility of transport from Earth to the homeworld.

     —Ax is on it, Marco’s latest text reads.  —He’s calling an old friend.  Might take some smuggling, but we’ve got an idea.

     —Thank you, Alloran types carefully on the tiny keyboard.  —Your assistance is greatly appreciated, and undeserved.

He’s debating whether to hit send when there’s a knock on the door.

Alloran’s in an abandoned building the Sharing used to use for housing human-controllers.  There is very little chance that this is an incidental knock, or someone who wandered by accidentally.

The thought occurs to him that it’d be smarter to morph human and blend in before he answers.  But the fear of facing the unknown in a half-blind, tailless morph wins out.  He opens the door as is.

It proves to be the right decision.  The andalite on the other side didn’t bother to morph either.

Estrid stares at him in silence for several seconds.  Her expression is unreadable, all eyes ahead and carefully blank.  Alloran doesn’t know what she’s looking for, but he lets her look.

«Estrid,» he says at last, when it’s clear she isn’t going to speak first.  He gestures with his tail blade, the downward sweep of greeting for an honored warrior.

«Father,» she says.

Her own sharp tail-turn puts the flat of her blade toward him.  A greeting between equals.  An insult.  Both not formal enough for an aristh to acknowledge a war-prince, and too formal for greeting a family member.

But then, Alloran went for Estrid, didn’t he.  Not Aristh Estrid-Corill-Darrath, not Estri-kala or my child.

They haven’t seen each other in over two years.  They haven’t spoken in almost twenty.

Arguably, given how young she was when he was taken, they’ve never really spoken at all.  Certainly Alloran knows little of the person his daughter has become as a young adult.  As a groundbreaking aristh.  As a brilliant researcher.

As a war criminal.

Humans have a saying, about apples that don’t fall far.

«How is Jahar?» Alloran says.  It’s what he really wants to know, and he doesn’t know how to approach any of the other minefields that lie between them.  «And Ajaht, how is he?»

Judging by Estrid’s expression, she takes this to be a standard small-talk opening instead of the deeply earnest inquiry it is.  «Mother is well enough.  I suppose you’ll have to apologize to her in person.»  She doesn’t mention her brother.

Alloran feels his tail blade drop nearly to the floor without his permission.  «Yes.  Of course.  Estrid...»

«I’m on a diplomatic mission to Earth,» she says briskly.  «Prince Aximili and I have concluded discussions with several local leaders about access to morphing technology and tourism restrictions going forward.  Therefore, I will be able to exit the planet and return home after being subject to nothing more rigorous than human security scans.»  The dismissive little flick of her tail at this last is, all things considered, somewhat warranted.  Humans have yet to devise a single effective way to detect morphers.

«Return home,» Alloran repeats.

Might take some smuggling, Marco said.  It’s sinking in: Estrid is here to bring him home.

Home.  To the wife he disgraced.  The brother he got killed.  The children who won’t even acknowledge him, a feverish pair of overachievers desperate to leave his legacy behind.  Ajaht’s tail-fighting is so legendary that, even using human channels, Alloran has been able to find scraps of news.  Estrid’s skill is not praised so publicly... but the yeerks got ahold of Arbat’s files, after their disastrous mission to Earth.  Alloran knows more about her, he thinks, than he ever wanted to.

«We’re leaving now,» Estrid says.  «My window for authorized exit ends in two-point-eight-six Earth hours, so we need to move.»

She must have been here for days if not weeks, to negotiate the way she’s describing.  And yet she came to find him at the last possible second.  Likely to minimize the time they’re forced to spend together.

Alloran doesn’t have the time or the energy to care.  «What would you prefer me to morph?»

«Something small and Earth-based.»  She barely finishes speaking before she starts to morph herself.

Alloran pauses in surprise, because Estrid morphs with shocking skill, melding from andalite to human in a mere forty-seven seconds, all without ever once losing her footing.  She even wears a normative amount of clothing when she’s finished, a sundress and sneakers and a coat overtop.

She sighs, looking him over.  «We don’t have all day, here.»

«You were wasted in Arbat’s lab,» Alloran says.

«You don’t have to tell me that,» Estrid snaps.  «Tell me, dear father, what else was a girl and a second-born and the child of a disgraced bloodline meant to do?»

Alloran has no answer.  Silently he morphs.

His options are limited — Visser Three overwhelmingly preferred large to small morphs, and Alloran hasn’t bothered acquiring much else — so he opts for snake, Lachesis muta according to a human-controller from the area.  It’s still larger than most Earth reptiles, but by coiling in close he becomes small enough to drop into the oversized pocket of Estrid’s jacket.

Estrid doesn’t speak to him, and he doesn’t ask her to, the entire way back to her fighter.  She’s under no obligation, and he won’t force the issue.

********

«We’re landing soon,» Estrid tells him, three Earth weeks and eighty-two light years later.  She’s maintained that icy formality throughout the entire journey so far, responding to Alloran’s questions — about her research, about her brother, about her morphing — with flat non-answers.

Alloran steps to the viewport to look out over the rolling grasslands of home like a child on his first in-atmosphere flight.  Is it home, really?  It’s been thirty-nine years since he left home to quell the small skirmish on the hork-bajir homeworld, forty-seven since his first offworld assignment serving under Prince Seerow.  He has seen a dozen planets, been a hundred species, since that time.  This body belonged to Visser Three for nearly as long as it did to Alloran himself, decades of nonexistence until he all but forgot his own name.

«What will you do next?» Alloran asks Estrid, still desperate for conversation.

She flicks a dismissive hand at the air.  «I have my work.»

«Even without Arbat?»

«I didn’t say it was easy.»

«And the quantum virus?»

She turns all four eyes on him.  A small part of him wants to scold her for bad form, but a far larger part of him recognizes he’d be overstepping.  «The quantum virus never happened,» she says sharply.  «And if it did, I was never informed of its existence.  This journey was my first visit to Earth, Arbat died in a lab accident, we were never involved in weapons development, and if you even think about saying differently the War Council will back my story, because all of the documentation —»

«Estrid.»  He cuts her off as gently as he can.  «I would never...»

He sees it, in the stiffening of her stalk eyes.  Hears it in the catch of her breath.  She doesn’t want a father.  Or if she does, she doesn’t want him.

«I would never dishonor the memory of my brother by raising questions about his death,» Alloran says instead.

Estrid relaxes, and turns back to the controls.

He is weary of war, weary of being alone.  The person he’d been when he first met Esplin 9466 would have been shouting by now, demanding to know what right Estrid has to consider herself any better than him.  He only deployed a quantum virus, had no hand in its evil creation.  Either she is a hypocrite... or she is just like the War Council officials who consider it a far worse crime to be enslaved by yeerks than to have murdered ten million hork-bajir.

It’s been a long war, and Alloran has missed her every moment of it.  Let her be angry; she’s here.

There is one more delicate question Alloran needs to ask, however, before they disembark on their family’s land.  «Jahar,» he says.  «I assume... She has found someone else.  To help raise you, and...»  Dark Sun, but this is hard.  «She deserves to be loved, of course.»

Eva’s mate remarried, after all.  Together they’d cried about that, somewhere between the third and fourth glasses of wine.

«Who would date her?» Estrid asks.  «Who would be seen speaking to her?  No.  There’s no one.  There hasn’t been.  There was me, and Ajaht, and that’s it.»

Alloran feels sadness and relief and disappointment and shame at his relief, all at once in a rush too complex to understand.  «I see,» he says at last.

«So go to her.»  Estrid yanks hard to unseal the fighter’s outer door; they’ve landed without his noticing.  «Go to her and—»  Another hard yank.  «Kriffing thing!»

Alloran puts his hand next to hers, pleasantly surprised when she doesn’t pull away.  As one they move, and the door comes open at last.

She came to meet them.  Alloran doesn’t know why he wasn’t expecting that, and yet...

Jahar is older, lined around the eyes and stooped in her shoulders and dull-edged around her hooves.  She’s radiant.  Transcendent.

Alloran is frozen.  Aware of all the knocks he’s taken, all the shine he’s lost.  Aware that they’ve been apart for longer than they ever were together.

He blames that last for the way his knees lock.  For the voice that freezes inside his mind, unable to form words.  For the crack in his breath and the painful squeeze of his hearts as she becomes the one to step forward.  As she raises a hand to his cheek, in the first gentle touch he’s felt in over twenty years.

--

[Note: I know that Aloth’s line in #38 about Estrid being Arbat’s niece — which would make her Alloran’s daughter — is probably not meant to be literal in context.  But the straightforward interpretation is boring, so I went with the fun one.]

[echoes-of-the-clockwork]

Book One: Gold (Prompto x Reader) Chapter XIV

After stopping at Leirity Seaside and Spelcray Haven, the group makes it to Cape Caem. Iris departs from the party and heads into the house to see Talcott. While the boys spoke with Cindy, (Y/n) wandered off towards the cliffs. She admired the beautiful view of the ocean with the lighthouse at her back. She inhaled deeply, the salty sea breeze bringing her a semblance of peace. The gentle breeze also cooled her heated skin. She stretched her arms towards the sky with a hum of content. "This place really is nice."

Glancing across the surface of the glistening ocean, (Y/n)'s peace of mind was shattered by Callyx. Unconsciously, she raises a hand and presses it against the back of her neck. Her smile was vanquished by a melancholic frown. Although hidden by her clothes, she felt as if she could feel the one thing that connected her to the empire-the barcode. Unlike Prompto, hers was located on the back of her neck. She knew the truth behind his existence, but he didn't. Nor did he know the truth behind hers.

"Hey!"

(Y/n) was startled from her thoughts when she heard Prompto yelling. She turned around and watched him run towards her. "Hey, I thought you'd be with the others."

"Why would I be when my favorite person is missing?" He asked with a smile. She wanted to smile, but her dark thoughts kept her from doing so. Of course, Prompto could tell she wasn't cheerful as usual. "Y'know, frowny faces aren't allowed here. The view is way too beautiful. What's wrong, (Y/n)?"

She looked away from him. "Dark thoughts, that's all. I thought I had managed to push them aside, but they keep resurfacing."

"Are these "dark thoughts" because of Callyx?"

She nodded her head weakly. "Yeah..."

"You listen to me anytime I need to talk and always know how to cheer me up. Whenever I needed a shoulder to cry on, you were there. You're the reason I've come this far and think I'm actually a worthy person and not just some waste of space. I just want to let you know I'm here for you just like you are for me, and I'm not going anywhere, okay?" Prompto reaches out and takes her hand in his, squeezing it gently.

(Y/n) could feel the sting of tears forming from his kindness. She bit her bottom lip to keep the tears at bay. She couldn't even bring herself to look at him in fear she'd begin crying. All she could do was squeeze his hand in return. "Thank you, Prompto, but I'm afraid this is something I can't share with you just yet."

Prompto didn't want to force her to do anything and respected her decision. "Well, when you're ready, I'll be here."

The guardian inhaled a shaky breath. She managed to turn and look at him, but the thing she was trying to not do happens. The tears she's been holding back spring free and cascade down her cheeks. Before she could even attempt to wipe them away, Prompto was already on it. His hands cradled her cheeks, using his thumbs to wipe away the tears. He was taken aback at her sudden tears and couldn't help but worry. "H-Hey, it's okay. Please don't cry, (Y/n)."

"I'm sorry, Prom," she sniffled.

"Don't apologize, silly." Prompto presses his forehead against hers with a warm smile. He wipes her tears away for a little longer before slipping his arms around her smaller frame and hugging her gently. She didn't hesitate to reciprocate the hug and wrap her arms around his torso. They remained in each other's arms until they heard Noctis shouting their names. Prompto pecked her on the forehead before grabbing her hand and rejoining Noctis and the others.

Once back with the others, Ignis explained how they learned where to find the mythril to repair the boat from Talcott. Their next destination would be the Vesperpool. As they were about to make their way into the house, Gladio stopped them. "So yeah, gonna have to ask you to handle this boat business without me."

Prompto gaped in shock. "Say wha?"

"Got some business of my own to deal with," the shield vaguely responded.

Noctis knew Gladio all too well and didn't try to change his mind. "Do your thing. Not like we could stop you anyway."

"You know me too well." He walked past the three boys and came to a stop beside (Y/n). He patted her on the shoulder. "Keep these guys in shape while I'm gone, short stuff."

She smirked in amusement. "You can count on me. Take care of yourself, Gladio."

"Don't have to tell me twice. See ya 'round." With that, the shield left.

<-------------<<<<<

Several days later, everyone minus Gladio was in the Regalia. Noctis was driving, Prompto was in the passenger's seat, and Ignis and (Y/n) were sitting in the backseat. The strategist recognized their surroundings from their earlier expedition in the area. "The waterfall cave was right around here."

"That means the lake should be somewhere north of here," Prompto said.

"Be wary, though-where we go, the empire seems to follow."

"Which means we might see Callyx again..." The marksman muttered with a slightly angry undertone.

"You hate the guy that much?" Noctis asked.

"Yeah, I do!" Prompto sat up in his seat with a huff of annoyance. "He hurt my beautiful goddess!"

(Y/n) chuckled slightly at his reasoning. "Trust me, I made sure he felt some pain before I left."

Eventually, they pull up to a tunnel whose gate had previously been locked. It opens and allows them passage. Prompto was puzzled at the entire thing. "Wait-what happened to "under imperial lockdown"?"

"They all but turned the key and left the gates open for us-as if awaiting our arrival," Ignis commented.

"And if anyone's waiting for us, I bet it's those guys," the sharpshooter grumbled.

"Chancellor Izunia and Callyx."

"Can't complain as long as they let us in," Noctis said.

"Who's to say they'll let us out? Not to mention we're a man down. Would that the marshal were with us," the advisor stated.

"But we have (Y/n) now!" Prompto chanted. "And whatever happened to that guy?"

"As I understand it, he's put his tomb raiding on hold to help the hunters take care of some troublesome beasts."

"No rest for "the immortal"," the prince said.

(Y/n) was curious to ask about Cor since she's only heard a few things about him from Prompto, but her train of thought was derailed when Noctis slammed on brakes. She braced herself as the car swerved from the harsh braking, her nails digging into the leather of the seat. Wondering why he made a harsh stop, she looked up to see an imperial blockade consisting of an MA Veles and imperial troopers.

"No way through," Noctis mumbled.

"So they give us access to the Vesperpool, but still intend to stop us by setting up other blockades," (Y/n) stated as she got out of the car.

"Yeah, it totally doesn't make any sense," Prompto commented. "But what do you expect from the empire?"

"Good point," Noctis said.

Once everyone was out of the car, they summoned their weapons. Ignis, wielding his daggers, warned his companions. "We must be doubly cautious."

"Right. No Gladio, no room for error."

Even without Gladio's presence, the battle went smoothly. They were able to easily dispose of the imperial forces and continue down the road. This time, Ignis was behind the wheel. Noctis, even with (Y/n) in the backseat with him, was able to spread out. "I could get used to havin' all this room back here. Too bad Gladio isn't as small as (Y/n)."

"It is quite cozy back here without him," the guardian said, stretching her arms into the air as her (h/c) locks were tousled by the wind.

Prompto glanced into the backseat at his best friend and girlfriend. "I'll let the big guy know you guys said so."

After a few more minutes of driving, Ignis parks the Regalia near the Vesperpool. Everyone exits the vehicle and heads into the nearby swampland in search of the ruins they heard about from Talcott. Down the trail, they spotted two familiar cars. One was red and the other was black.

"Oh, great..." (Y/n) groaned.

As they come near the ruins, they find Ardyn and Callyx waiting for them. The female spirit smirked in satisfaction seeing her fellow guardian's right eye was foggy. The skin around it was pink and puffy from where she burnt him. The boys also noticed the man's maimed eye. Prompto leant over and whispered to the golden-eyed spirit. "You did that to him?"

"Yeah. He deserved it," (Y/n) replied.

"Damn..." Noctis mumbled at seeing the damage.

Ardyn addressed the group as they made their way over to him and Callyx. "Gentlemen." He then took off his hat and bowed in (Y/n)'s direction. "And lady. What a pleasant surprise."

Prompto glanced between the two men with a groan. "Ugh! Told you they'd be waiting!"

"With my imperial friends, no less."

"Splendid," Ignis rhetorically retorted.

The chancellor quickly tried to assuage their concern. "But fear not-I'll put in a good word. Well, come along, then." He turns and begins walking toward the ruins. Callyx, on the other hand, didn't budge. He glared at the girl with his only remaining eye. He took a few steps towards her, but was stopped by Ardyn. "Do behave yourself, dear friend."

Callyx gritted his teeth, clenching his fists tightly. "If I could, I'd rip into your flesh again, right here and right now."

(Y/n) wasn't afraid of the man and stood her ground. "Did you not learn your lesson the first time? Guess you didn't and now don't wanna keep your left eye. I don't mind burning it like I did your right one."

"Why you little-!"

"Callyx," Ardyn gently called out in warning.

The male guardian reluctantly backed away with a snarl. He turned his back to his fellow spirit and followed after the chancellor.

Ardyn smiled at the group as Callyx took the lead towards the ruins. "I do apologize for his unruly behavior." He adjusted his hat and walked alongside his spiky-haired companion. "Now then, don't stray too far, lest you get left behind. And surely you'd rather avoid unnecessary scuffles, seeing as you're now a quartet. Oh, dear. Touchy subject?"

"One we won't discuss with you," Ignis quipped rather harshly.

"Then let's discuss why you're here. Hmm.... It can't be archaeology... Mythril, perhaps?"

"This guy's reading our thoughts!" Prompto gasped.

"Mythril-it's a precious resource. We can't just let anyone get their hands on it," Ardyn claimed.

"But you'll help us get ours on it, right?" Noctis asked.

"I never said that!"

"Of course you didn't," Prompto muttered.

"Where is the fun in that?" The chancellor questioned. "I thought you'd rather dig it up yourselves."

"We'll make you all do the damned dirty work yourselves. You're capable enough even with one person missing," Callyx sneered.

(Y/n) couldn't hold her snarky remark at bay. "Oh, so you won't dirty your hands for mythril, but you're fine with killing your own people. Nice to know."

"You're making it very difficult to not kill you," Callyx growled.

"You won't because your tail wags for your master."

"So does yours," he retorts.

"But mine doesn't keep me on a short leash and actually trusts me."

Callyx's self control shattered. He reached out to grab the girl, but his arm was grabbed by her and she twisted his arm behind his back. Using her foot, she kicked the bend of one of his legs and forced him to a single knee. He grunted in pain as he struggled against her, but his current position made it difficult.

The guardians' argument didn't go unnoticed. The boys and Ardyn had watched the entire thing unfold. The chancellor was smirking in amusement while the others were shocked. The auburn-haired man strolled over with a chuckle. "As I believe this is a suiting punishment for Callyx, I do beg of you to release him, my dear. His punishment will come at a later date, I assure you."

(Y/n) glared at the chancellor before releasing Callyx. The male spirit got to his feet, rolling his shoulder and trying to ease the pain. "Damn you..."

She crossed her arms with a victorious grin. "Run along, kitty. Your master's tugging on your leash."

Without another word, Callyx walked away. Prompto watched the emerald-eyed guardian stalk away, clearly consumed by anger. He then looked over at his spirit with an astonished expression. "Wow, (Y/n). I've never seen you so angry before."

"I'm not someone who usually is easily angered," she sighed. "But Callyx just grinds my gears. Knowing he's willingly working for the empire and killing our people is what irks me the most."

"By that display, I do believe we won't be needing Gladio's assistance for this endeavor," Ignis said.

Noctis glanced at Callyx's retreating form before looking over at the golden-eyed girl. "I thought you were gonna break his arm."

"Oh, trust me, I wanted to. I already broke it once, but I'll gladly do it again," she responded. "Guardians are more resilient than humans and our injuries heal quicker, but it seems Callyx is still experiencing issues with his arm after I broke it at the fort."

"Indeed, he is," Ardyn sighed. "You did quite a number on him, my dear. The poor man was brought back to me with his eye singed and arm shattered."

"And you're not mad?" She inquired.

"Of course not. Callyx fought and lost. Tis a mere outcome of battle."

Hearing Ardyn's confession, (Y/n) felt a tinge of sorrow for Callyx. The chancellor wasn't saddened if the man was injured in battle. He doesn't care for him like Prompto does her. She shook her head, ridding herself of the thoughts. "Putting all this aside, aren't we here for mythril?"

He tipped his hat with a faint smile. "Right this way."

They continued to follow Ardyn down the trail until they reached the ruins. Outside the entrance to the ancient structure stood the woman they had fought against at Fort Vaullery. Beside her were two imperial officers.

Ardyn turns to Noctis and the others. "Fear not-I'll be but a moment." He walks over to the woman and begins to speak with her.

Prompto looked over at his best friend. "A moment doing what?"

Noctis shrugged his shoulders. "Beats me."

(Y/n) looked around at the number of imperials were stationed in the area. She could feel their eyes on her as their grips on their weapons tightened. She grimaced at the unsafe feeling she was experiencing. She was the conduit, the spirit the empire was seeking to kill. Now she was standing in the middle of an imperial hornet nest, afraid she'd stir the insects and wind up dead. "I'm not so sure I should be here..."

The prince glared at the imperial troopers who were eyeing the spirit. "Nah, it's fine. If they really wanted to kill you, I'm pretty sure they'd already done it."

"Perhaps the chancellor is the reason they remain inactive," Ignis speculated.

She rubbed her hands up and down her arms. "I just hope we get this mythril as quick as possible..."

Just then, Ardyn calls out to them. "All clear! Go ahead."

The group approaches the woman, who was eyeing them closely. "So, you're the "new recruits" they sent over for "special training." Nice cover, runaway prince."

"Thanks," Prompto replied.

Noctis groaned at how casual the blonde was being. "Oh, c'mon!"

The woman shook her head with a sigh. "At ease, "recruits." There's nothing in it for this ex-mercenary to turn you in."

"Well that's a surprise," (Y/n) muttered.

This caught the ex-mercenary's attention. "Good thing because your name and the prince's are on the empire's list. The very top, I might add." She took a few steps towards the girl and examined her appearance. "But I know I'm already gonna like you, firefly."

The guardian blinked in surprise. "Why's that?"

"You're the one who fried Callyx's eye. If you hadn't done it, I would've. Bastard's been a thorn in my side for a while now." She patted her on the shoulder, grinning. "I look forward to working with you, firefly."

(Y/n) glances up at the sky, noticing the sun was beginning to set. "Then let's get this show on the road."

Her grinned widened. "Took the words right out of my mouth. Let's get moving, "recruits"."

Seeing the group had become acquainted with the ex-mercenary, Ardyn chimed in. "I trust you'll be civil. Commodore Aranea Highwind, I leave them to you."

Aranea puts on her helmet and guides the group towards the entrance of the ruins. As they trudged through the shallow water, Prompto noticed the strange design of the ruins. "What kind of place was this? Any idea, Ignis?"

Ignis was also intrigued by the ancient structure, but he had no answers for the blonde. "None."

"Gee, I wonder what happened to the locals."

"Why not head inside and look for 'em?" Aranea suggested.

"I'm not so sure if we want to find the locals," (Y/n) said. "Who knows if they're hostile or peaceful."

"Guess we'll figure out the hard way if there are any locals," Noctis spoke up.

When the sun set behind the horizon and the moon rose into the sky, the entrance to Steyliff Grove was open. As they entered the ruins, (Y/n) took note of the design. She ran a hand across the wall. "Hey, Prom. Don't these ruins look a lot like the ones we hid in a while back?"

Prompto also analyzed the structure of the ruins. His eyes widen when he too saw the similarities. "Oh, yeah!"

"You must be talking about Costlemark Tower," Aranea voiced. "Place is crawling with daemons and has the same strange mechanism that prevents anyone from entering during the day."

The marksman glanced over at the ex-mercenary. "Does that mean this place is gonna be crawling with daemons too?"

"Most likely."

"Oh, yay..."

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[hunflowers]

Mythology (II)

Word Count: 6.5k

Requested? Not exactly, but you always can here :)

A/N: Thank you all for being so patient! I’ve decided I’m going to extend the series into another part so I split up this chapter a little bit so it wouldn’t be too long, and so I wouldn’t have to cram so much into one chapter. There’s more Harry in this one so I hope you enjoy! Also, if you like what you read (or if you didn’t) send me some feedback, it really helps me out :) *nose boops*

tag list: @thicksniall @meetmeinfleetwood @afire-hes @pradaxstyles @c-h-e-r-r-y-y @gotmyhandonmyheart @burberryharold @harrymoncheri

Waking up in a foreign bed the next day, solidified this new reality for Calista.

One trait about her is that she finds it very difficult to sleep in a bed that isn’t her own, so it was actually a miracle she could fall asleep so easily the night before. Because she bounced around a lot as a child from home to home, not having one single bed to call her own was a reason for her exhausting insomnia. More proof that her move away from the states had been good on her, is that her illness had lessened its severity when she finally could call a place home. Most of the times when it occurs nowadays is when she’s over stressed about something. Yet, the previous night had been one of her most peaceful slumbers.

Her and Trinity had stayed in the cafeteria for a while after their encounter with Wren, the thin ice they had been walking on dissipating into a more comfortable area where they didn’t feel this unbearable tension surrounding them. Niall and Harry had helped with this easy atmosphere, all of them informing Calista the best they could before she would talk to Mr. Cirillo the next day.

Harry didn’t stick around too long though, hopping around between tables and people before disappearing completely for the night. Something about him was so intriguing, and even if she had only spoken to him for a maximum of twenty minutes, Calista could say she had the tiniest crush on him. It was ridiculous to think such a thing, because she obviously hardly knows him, but there was something about him.

Maybe because he genuinely seemed interested in her, something not a lot of males, or people in general, do.

When she first came to Cambridge there was one boy who liked her, resulting in a relationship of almost a year, but of course he turned out to be a bit of a dickhead, that mainly cared for himself and disregarded her in so many ways. But, Harry didn’t seem like the type; He actually seemed genuine. Of course she doesn’t want to get her hopes too high up, but that doesn’t stop the physical attraction she has towards him.

She was directed to go to Mr. Cirillo’s office early that morning, of course getting lost on the way there, shamefully asking two different people for directions. She should’ve been given some sort of map to guide her because this place was nothing short of humongous.

When she finally came across the plaque that read Headmaster Cirillo, she took a deep breath and knocked softly on the door, a response immediately voicing on the other side of the door. Pushing the white wood open, she poked her head in and saw Mr. Cirillo at his desk. He removed his one lens glasses from his face, a soft smile on his lips as he gestured to the seat across from him, encouraging her to sit on the patent leather

“Good morning, Calista. Please, have a seat,” the older man… cyclops greets her, hands clasped together on the desk in an authoritative manner. “Sleep well?” 

“Yes, thank you,” she answered, for some reason completely nervous. It was sort of like when she would be called to the principal’s office when she was younger because she would miss classes or the one time she got into a fight and broke the girl’s nose. In her defense, the girl started it, and she doesn’t even really remember where the strength came from to actually break the girl’s nose.

Something now tells her it has to do with her ancestry. If that’s even possible. But, at this rate, anything is possible as she sits across from a cyclops, and is a demigod herself.

“Good, well, then I’ll get started. I know you’re wondering why it took so long for you to… know about everything and I’m here to answer any questions you have to the best of my abilities. I’d rather you ask me anything and we’ll go on from there.”

Calista nodded along, sweat in her palms developing, causing her to casually sit her thighs down on top of her hands. So many questions sprinted through her mind, her not knowing which to ask first. “I mean… I don't know, why did it take so long? I spoke to people last night and they’ve all been here for years and I guess I just want to know why I wasn’t told sooner.”

Mr. Cirillo nodded his head, “That was per your mother’s request. She was adamant on you not risking your life being a part of this society of ours.”

“But why? It hardly seems fair that I’m being kept in the dark,” she scoffed back, leaning back against the black leather, her hands coming up to grip the arms of the chair.

“I agree. But, in her defense, your mother had very good reasoning to make the decision she did. Our life, this existence of ours, is a complete mystery to the outside world,” he stood up, walking over to the grand window behind him. “People have been trying for years upon years to dig up the truth. There’s no telling what kind of acts will be made against us if they ever find us, so over the years, we’ve been preparing for any sort of war that could affect us.”

Walking over to one of the many filing cabinets that lined one wall of the office, he opened one of the drawers that seemed to be labeled Athena, skimming through the multiple manila folders before pulling a specific one out, closing the metal cabinet shut behind him. He sat back down in his own chair, keeping the folder closed on the desk before he continued his explanations. “We’ve had multiple threats over the years, claiming our secret would be revealed to the world. If the world were to ever find out, we could be executed and wiped off the face of the earth, or maybe held captive for the enjoyment of ignorant people. It would leave the gods no choice but to wreak havoc on the planet.

“One night before you were born, there was a threat against us, and your half-brother, Mikael, was sent to settle the situation. Unfortunately that night he was killed, and your mother took it very personally as any mother would. Just a couple weeks later you were born, and she didn’t want another child of hers to live their life with risk or in secrecy. She wanted you to have a so-called normal upbringing,” he finished, opening the folder that had been kept shut, turning it to face her direction. A small picture of a smiling young man was clipped to the corner of a page, the name Mikael printed on the tab.

Calista felt a sudden wave of sadness flush through her at the mention of a half-brother, seeing his smiling face that she never got the chance to greet. As she looked over the few papers in this folder briefly, she learned that her brother used to be of high status here, ranked as General Combatant along with his multiple skills and achievements. She swallowed as she never imagined herself achieving such superiority amongst everyone here, especially with her late start.

She only grew more frustrated as she hastily closed the folder, placing it back down on the table. “A normal upbringing? Do you know the kind of life I’ve lived? It was anything but normal. I’m sure I would’ve had a better chance at normal here, then anywhere else,” she rolled her eyes, her jaw clenching as tears threatened her waterline.

Normal is all she wanted. A normal family, with normal friends, and a normal life. Instead she’s practically been to Hell and back, and the scars imprinted in her brain and on her skin is the evidence of that. She understands her mother’s decision, because it must be hard losing a child and running the risk of losing another, but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck. Calista has been dealt the shittiest cards, and knowing she was cheated out of a better hand twists her heart and constricts her lungs.

Standing again from his chair, Mr. Cirillo walks over to the door of his office, opening it and looking back to the depressive demigod, “Let’s go for a walk.” Calista says nothing as she follows him, eyes focused to her shoes as her mind swirls with countless thoughts of never being good enough. When she looked up to look at the multiple paintings and portraits lining the walls, her stomach sank further as she saw what could’ve been her life.

She could be grateful for knowing now rather than never, but since she found out now when her life was getting better, it only hurt her more. If she found out before, she would’ve seen it as a saving grace, but now it only seemed like a burden.

They made their way outside to the courtyard, the building guarding the blooming flowers and small ponds filled with various fish. A few others were scattered around, sitting at benches or small tables and talking amongst themselves, not paying any attention to Calista and Mr. Cirillo. 

Their walk was at a slow pace, silence surrounding them except for the smaller chatter from the other people, the beauty of the sun beaming down on the spacious greenery engulfing their minds. She understands why he wanted to take a walk, because breathing in fresh air helped cool her mind just long enough for her to regain her somewhat stable composure. 

“I know your life was hard,” he began again, looking down at the Calista, his hands tucking into the pockets of his slacks. “And I deeply apologize for everything you’ve been put through, I wish there was something I could’ve done.”

Calista licked her chapped lips, pursing them as she came up with something to say back, because in all honesty an apology means nothing coming from him. The real apology she wants is from Athena, or even her fucking father. “Why now? Why not follow her rules and keep me away?”

“Well, there was another threat against our livelihood. An insider that has anonymously threatened to tell anyone and everyone willing to listen. When I told the gods, your mother, Athena, advised it was time to… She said you’d be a great leader like your brother once was,” he smiled softly, eyeing her reaction as she looked at the olive tree, sitting in the center of the courtyard.

“I’m not a leader,” she responded softly, taking her gaze off of the plant and back down to the laces of her boots. “From what I saw, Mikael was an honorable person, and I’m far from that.”

“And from what I’ve gathered, is that despite the horrible schools you went to and the awful people you’ve met along the way, you were still one of the highest in your class and was awarded a full ride scholarship to Cambridge. Even with setbacks, you pushed through with determination. I’d say that’s pretty honorable,” he quipped back, sitting down on the bench that was beneath the giant tree.

All she really felt at this point was confusion. She wants to be able to call this place her home, and maybe even call these people her family, but they’ve been doing fine for years without her, she just doesn’t understand why all of a sudden it was necessary to tell her. Getting an A on a test was a whole different game compared to being a leader in a war. Aside from breaking a girl’s nose, she had no ability to fight or any sort of strategy at all to be able to hold her own. Her being involved felt more of a burden to everyone else, and she’d probably get herself killed almost immediately.

“I just don’t see how I’m of any use. I don’t have experience like Trinity or Wren, or anybody here. I’ll probably end up running around like a headless chicken.”

He laughed at the small joke, raising his hand up to squeeze her shoulder. “Like I said, with determination you’ll push through.”

The reminder of Trinity telling her to surpass Wren from last night came to mind, a little ounce of this determination sparking through her, but it was quickly diminished as she thought of the actual process of conquering that. She wants to be the underdog like in all of those movies she’s watched that beats the bully in the end, but those are movies, and as much as this doesn’t feel like real life, it is and that’s not how everything works. She can try, but that doesn’t mean she’ll be successful and if she’s not successful she’s afraid she’ll be a disappointment and then that disappointment feeds into her anxiety of never being wanted by anyone and it’s this constant cycle in her beaten and bruised brain.

On the other hand, she can’t just tell Mr. Cirillo no, because then she’ll probably end up disappointing him and sending herself into a subcycle of unwarranted thoughts. She wishes everything right now had a clean cut answer as to what she should do, but she’s stuck in her thoughts, feeling as if she’s being pulled down by rapid quicksand, not giving herself enough time to mull over everything properly.

Looking up through the leaves of the olive tree, admiring the sun that peaked through the greenery above her, coating her face in a dull glow, Calista said one last thing to Mr. Cirillo before they would go on their separate ways as she would take time to think about everything alone.

“Do I ever get to meet her?”

Mr. Cirillo sighed, a look of solemn etching across his features. That was her answer alone, but she still acknowledged the words that tumbled out of his mouth. “It’s a rarity that they make an appearance.”

Calista nodded, getting up off the bench and ready to make her way back inside and hopefully find the way back to her room. Mr. Cirillo reached for her wrist, holding her in her place for one more moment, “But she’s always looking after you, Calista.”

And with that, she walked away, holding back her tears until she collapsed on the sheets of her bed.

❊ ❊

Hours had passed since her meeting with Mr. Cirillo, and she had made no progress towards processing everything that’s been relayed to her. She tried falling asleep to dull the headache beating through her skull, to give herself a moment to breathe before she would fully understand everything at hand. 

Trinity had offered her support, but Calista felt it was better to be alone at this time, just so she would have no distractions and so she could wallow in her own thoughts. And while at first being alone seemed to help, after a while, she was in need to vent and discuss all of the problems soaring through her head to her best friend.

Thing is, her problem just lies in the fact that everything had been kept secret from her for so long. Who’s to say this all would’ve been revealed to her if there hadn’t been this apparent threat? Would her best friend have continued to lie to her for the rest of their lives? 

Why should she maybe put her life at risk for people that she hardly even knows?

Everything just relates back to her anxiety over never being good enough for anyone, which would prove why she’s lived such an awful life considering she wasn’t good enough to be her rightful title of demigod. She understands it was done to protect her wellbeing, she just wishes that’s the way her brain would take it. Instead, she’s thinking the worst because that’s how she was raised; Expecting the worst.

When Trin finally came back to the room, she could tell something was off with Calista as she saw her friend in the same curled up position on her bed since she left. “Lis, everything okay?”

First there was no response or any sort of movement, then she heard the small whimpers leaving the girl’s lips, and immediately she was crawling into her bed, cradling her to her chest, doing her best to help ease her pain.

“I just wish I could shut my brain off for one minute,” she cried, clutching onto her friend’s hand that had wrapped around her front.

“What’s going on inside that head of yours?” Trin murmured, pushing the loose curls from her friend's face and behind her ear. 

Calista calmed herself for a moment, rolling over to face Trin, eyes red and cheeks blotchy as she sniffled, bottom lip quivering slightly. “I-I want to see the good in this, but all I can think a-about is how I wasn’t good enough from the start and how I’m not good enough now.”

“What’re you talking about? What did you talk about with Mr. Cirillo?”

Calista relayed everything she was told to Trinity, even delving into the topics that are her insecurities just so her friend can understand a little more about what’s going on inside this head of hers. She had a chance at a family, and friends, and people who related to her, but that was stripped away from her. She has a life she never knew existed and she has no guide book to understand how to go about it all, not to mention it’s a life that isn’t exactly supposed to exist at all. 

Is she meant to live up to her past brother’s legacy? If she doesn't, is she just going to be forgotten about? 

If her mother is always looking after her, how could she let her daughter go through everything she has? 

So many questions that no one has an answer to, and it’s so exhausting.

Trinity didn’t interrupt once, letting her best friend vent to her as she sat patiently. She was once where Calista was, but of course she doesn’t know how she’d exactly take it all in if she had found out so much later in life. As an adolescent, it was so cool finding out her heritage, knowing she was meant for better than just her stuck up dad and stepmom. And she knows how Calista is with trusting people and their intentions, that’s why it took her awhile to warm up to her. So she completely understands her worries about everything too good to be true considering her past.

Being here, though, at Mythology, is where she belongs. And Trinity will do her very best to try and convince her so. When they first met, and Calista told her that she was studying the classics, she knew it was fate and that her role here as Athena’s daughter is meant to be.

And one way to help guide her friend is through the bonfire this night. The annual bonfire before the announcements of the Leaderships. Trinity is convinced the bonfire will help persuade Calista into staying here, because once she spends one night with all of these people that come to be family, she won’t ever want to leave again.

Or, so she wishes.

❊ ❊

“I’m not so sure about this, Trin.”

There was a lot of convincing in order to get Calista to leave their room for the bonfire. After Trin sat and listened to her, she felt a little better getting everything off of her chest that’s been setting up camp. Though, Calista could feel their friendship going down a more comfortable path toward recovery as she expressed her concerns.

She’s not exactly warmed up to everything yet, but the more she vents and talks to Trin who went through a not exact but similar process with being thrown into this new lifestyle, Calista can feel herself wanting to get to know this part of her life a little more.

She’s still struggling with trusting all of these people, but that’s where the bonfire comes in and why Trin believes it’ll help her. As an observant best friend, she saw the way Calista was talking to Harry and even Niall, as if they were her friends she had known for years. Granted she has known Niall for some time, but not in the way she’s known Trin. And Harry she’s known for all of twenty minutes, yet she was laughing and smiling as if she knew him since they were children.

If the bonfire can bring out more of that, then Calista will surely want to stay and be around at least for a little while longer.

Though, for Calista it felt a little like the first day of school as she scrounged through her suitcase to find something suitable to wear. It wasn’t the hottest night yet it wasn’t exactly cold, so really that left her at square one. And Trin wasn’t any help as she sat on her phone waiting for her friend to make a decision. But, Calista just followed suit with her and put on a sweatshirt and shorts along with a pair of her worn down sneakers. It also didn’t help that her ruthless curly hair was like a nest sitting on her scalp. Her best bet was a semi decent ponytail that at least kept her hair out of her face.

Trinity finally looked up from her phone, “It’s gonna be fun. It’s basically tradition, and you can’t skip tradition.”

“It’s not exactly my tradition though, so maybe I’ll just pass.”

With a roll of her eyes, Trinity stood up from her bed and grabbed onto her friend’s wrist and led her out of their room. “Well, let’s make it your tradition then.”

They both eventually wound up outside and in the large field that expanded for acres of land, the moon glistening over them as they walked further until they reached multiple people laughing and dancing and talking as a fairly big fire sat between them all.

Immediately, Calista’s eyes were drawn to the force that is Harry as a guitar sat on his lip as he sang some song, joking around with the people around him. Niall was over with them too, and once he spotted them, he ran over to hug the both of them before encouraging them to join the little circle of people.

“Everyone, this is Calista,” Niall introduced as he sat back in his previous seat. Unsurprising, there was a single seat open next to him that was clearly meant for Trin, which she so graciously sat in, leaving Calista to stand alone, full of awkwardness.

The few people greeted her with a wave, insistent she sit down with them. A little reluctantly, she sat between two people she had yet to meet, but would come to know their names are Sarah and Mitch.

Even though she was in a circle of people that all seemed to be like good people, it was one of those moments she felt so alone. She’s never really known how to bond with new people because she hardly ever purposely tries to talk to them, and now seems like a good time to break out of her bubble a little, but she’s afraid of the pending rejection from the lot.

They all seem really nice, yet her brain craved the worst of people so she doesn’t have to get hurt later on.

Looking around at everyone else that was outside of this little circle, it was hard not to notice Damien and Wren at the center of everyone else’s attention, doing whatever the hell it is that they’re doing. When Wren had turned her head slightly and made eye contact with Calista, she smirked in her usual cynical manner, which Calista just scoffed at, turning back around to the group with her.

When turning back around, she made direct eye contact with Harry, who was listening to whatever Niall was talking about, yet didn’t seem like he was paying attention as he kept his attention on Calista. She felt her cheeks heat up and most likely redden under his gaze before she broke the contact and looked to her hands.

Getting up from her spot abruptly, she announced she was getting any kind of drink that was over in the coolers, offering to anyone who wanted but they all declined. Though when she walked over to the red and blue coolers, one labeled water and the other labeled alcohol, she felt a presence following her.

And then Harry stood next to her, sans guitar now.

“Still adjusting?” He asked, reaching into the water cooler and pulling out a fresh and cool bottle, one for him and one for her since he saw her reaching for one.

Cal nodded, softly laughing at the question. “That’s an understatement.”

There was a sudden silence over them, neither of them talking for a brief moment but listening to the chatter of everyone else, or the crackle of the bonfire, or the hum of music that was floating into the night sky. When she finally gained the courage to look up and meet his eyes, she saw him already looking at her, entranced by her shy personality yet strong attitude. “I didn’t know until I was seventeen. M’mum kept it from me. Said it was for my own good or summat, but I was pissed. Felt like m’whole life was a lie. Gets easier though, trust me.”

She was taken aback at the sudden confession, her lips parting slightly as she looked at him with slight confusion. Out of everything that could’ve come out of his mouth, she really wasn’t expecting that, because it also felt like he somehow knew what was going on inside of her mind.

“How long till it starts getting easier?” she questions, taking a sip of her water, appreciating it’s cool texture sliding down her throat.

He nods, sitting down on a chair that was outside of the little group from before, an open seat next to him that she’s meant to sit on. “We all handle shit differently so m’not sure, but sometimes even now I have to take a step back and think about everything and I’ve been here for six years.”

Before Calista has a chance to ask him something else, a different voice butts in. The look on Harry’s face as he saw who was approaching them only solidified that she knew who it was.

“Aw, have we got a pair of little lovebirds already?”

Calista didn’t bother to look to her right as Wren stood tall and proud, looming over the two of them like a cloud, ready to rain down on them. The fire lit up her face in such a way that looking up at her made her seem nearly demonic, and if she wasn’t already in a bad mood, she would’ve laughed at the irony. 

A faux smile stretched across her thin lips as she stood with her arms crossed, drink in her hand as she looked between the demigods. “Can’t even let the poor girl settle in for a day before you’re trying to jump her bones.”

“Fuck right off, Wren,” Harry sneered back, getting up from his seat to tower over the shorter girl.

This is when Damien decided to step up, placing himself between his girlfriend and his enemy, glaring at Harry with his dark eyes, jaw clenched so hard his teeth were probably close to shattering. Calista was a little nervous as the air around them grew tense, though luckily it didn’t seem like anyone else was paying attention to this little quarrel. Harry didn’t seem fazed in the slightest by the beefcake in front of him, an indifferent facial expression locked on his features.

“What?” Harry asks, tilting his head slightly, “She’s just jealous m’not talking to her.”

Damien goes to shove Harry instantly, but just as fast, Harry deflects his aggression and instead is able to push Damien back, causing him to trip over the leg of a chair behind him. Calista rolls her lips together to avoid bursting out into a fit of laughter, completely in awe of how Harry turned the situation around.

Guess Trinity and Niall were right when they said Damien sucks ass.

Wren didn’t even seem surprised at the turn of events. “Jealous? Oh, please, don’t think so highly of yourself.”

Calista looked over to Trin and saw how she was standing up, looking curious as to what was going on with the four. They made eye contact and spoke without any words, both of them concluding they had no idea what was going on.

“I just came over to wish her luck in Leaderships. Hope she doesn’t get herself killed and all that,” she conceded, her hands coming up in defense. Though, her confession wielded a taunting undertone that was clear as day to Calista, because all her life she’s dealt with people and their fake spouts of truth just so they seemed like the good guys.

This urged Calista to scoff, “Bullshit.”

Wren’s head snapped towards the new girl, eyes squinting a little as she skimmed over her sitting stature. “Excuse me?”

Throughout the course of this whole day, Calista had been wary about her place here, and whether or not she wanted to stick around or call it a day and go back to her normal. The idea of these Leaderships was practically nauseating to think about, and she wasn’t even sure if she wanted to take part in them. But hearing this girl talk about them, pushes her to stay and just kick her ass into next year. She’s not all that confident that she’ll be able to do so, but like Mr. Cirillo said, the determination will push her through.

“What’re you wishing me luck for? Wishing me luck insinuates me coming out on top, and we all know you want to keep your status, so I call bullshit,” she shrugs in response, unscrewing the cap to her bottle and taking another sip. From the distance, Calista could hear Trin cheer her on.

“Thanks though. Although, I think he,” she points to Damien who is only just now getting up from the floor, “needs your luck more than I do.” Wren stared in shock and anger, fists clenching and unclenching as her one eye twitched before she eventually huffed and stormed off, leaving Damien to catch up to her.

Calista waved goodbye, letting out a breath of air she hadn’t realized she’d been holding in. There’s something about Wren that brings out this confidence in her, that if she wasn’t such a bitch, she’d want to thank her. Again, aside from that one girl’s nose she broke, she never really stood up for herself or for others.

So, maybe this whole Greek life was actually going to do some good for her in the end.

❊ ❊

Another night, another extremely restful sleep.

Though, another day, another rendition of unwarranted anxiety.

Sleeping through one more night, Calista had come to the decision that she was going to stay. After everything that had happened with Wren at the bonfire, the night went a lot more peaceful, and Cal understood what Trinity meant when she said the bonfire was going to help. 

Getting to know these people and hearing all of these stories of their arrival into this life, and the stories since they’ve been here, helped ease a lot of the tension stirring around in her brain. It sparked an interest to make her own memories and the hope that maybe these people aren’t so bad like her thoughts are trying to make her believe.

After she had woken up, Calista headed to Mr. Cirillo’s office again to announce the news, stating that she’ll regret leaving more than staying and hating it.

Plus, how bad could it actually be?

Well, the answer to that is actually pretty bad.

Not exactly in a bad way, but she never would’ve expected all the exhausting effort she was going to have to put in.

After her second talk with Mr. Cirillo, Calista was ushered to the main hall where everyone was gathering for the official announcement of the Leaderships. Walking into the room, she could see these charts full of names, and at a quick glance she saw Wren’s name in the very first spot on the female side, and Harry’s on the male. It wasn’t much of a shock to see her own name all the way at the bottom considering she’s new and all, but it made her all the more hell-bent on sliding up to the top.

Everyone seemed eager to get back into the work of things, all of them super hyped that they were back. Being here was mostly a summer occurrence, so because they weren’t here all year round, to everyone it was super exciting to be back with the people they care for, doing the things they love.

All of the elders stood at the front of the room, going over the discourse about this threat of maybe an inside source. Everyone seems slightly peeved at the fact they don’t know who the rat is, looking around warily at one another. Some even had the audacity to look at Calista with disdain, as if her being the traitor makes any sense at all considering she just found out about this place two days ago.

When it was all over, Cal was whisked away by Trin, accompanied by Niall of course, as they took her outside and to some secluded part of the forest that expanded into an open area, away from everyone else. The sun gleamed through the leaves of the trees surrounding them, coating them in a golden mask of fresh air. There’s also a little pond just a little down further, which Niall says helps him out when he’s out here for various hours, day after day. 

There were targets lined up against trees that had been chipped away from what she can assume was constant arrows being stuck inside of it. There were a few racks of different weaponry that stood tall beside the targets that were covered under a tarp to keep them out of harm's way of the weather.

The nerves were itching up Calista’s spine as she looked at the daunting swords and bow and arrows, and other types of metal she had no idea what to call. “I don’t even think I’ll be able to hold anything without dropping it like an idiot,” she grimaces, a wry smile on her face as she traces the intricate design etched into the handle of the first sword.

“It takes some getting used to, but you’ll get the hang of it,” Niall comforted, walking over to one of the vacant benches and tying up the laces to his shoes that had come undone. “Plus you’ve got the best of the best on y’side, it’ll be like a piece of cake.”

Calista scrunches her eyebrows in disagreement, a mental image of her cutting off her arm or even her head coming to mind as the sharp edges of the swords and knives glimmer in the sunlight. The least threatening of the various weapons was the bo staff that stood perched against the wood rack, its blunt ends that weren’t met in metal seeming to be the easiest to handle. Though, the spear that sat beside it caught her eye too, as she thought of her mother, and how the spear is known to be her weapon of choice, accompanied by a golden shield. 

Off in the distance was the sound of someone walking towards them, the sounds of the pavement crushing beneath their shoes. All three of them turned to the sound coming from the side, and were greeted by Harry’s face as he whistled his way into their line of vision.

His black t-shirt was rolled at the sleeves and a red bandanna was snugly tucked into his hair as it pushed back the few curls that tended to fall onto his forehead. His tan skin glowed as his tattoos sat contrast on his arms. Calista was envious of how he looked so good doing absolutely nothing, and if she didn’t have any better self-control, she’d probably be drooling right now.

“G’morning,” he smiles at them, hands on his hips as he stops in front of the three. But, he then turns his attention undividedly onto Calista, a little glimmer of amusement sparking across his eyes as he asks, “Ready for some fun?”

“I highly doubt it’s gonna be fun,” she drones back, bending over to wrap her hair up into the best bun she could manage.

When she stood back up tall, doing a few final adjustments to her hair, she realized Trin and Niall were walking back in the original direction they had come from, leaving behind her and Harry. She was beyond confused, calling out to them and wondering where they were off to, only to receive back a curt response of, “Harry works better alone, so we’re gonna head back,” and then they were gone. 

Now, Calista doesn’t know Harry all that well, and now she’s scared he’s here to murder her, deep in the woods where no one would be able to hear her scream. He’s got plenty of methods to do so right beside them, and she’d be lying if she said her heart rate didn’t pick up a little bit. And she’s a little confused as to why she wasn’t told this in the first place.

“Are you wondering if I’m going to murder you?”

Calista pursed her lips, shaking her head slowly, “Pfft, what? No.”

“I don’t usually work with anyone. I like to stay in my own headspace away from everyone so I can stay focused,” he elaborated to their friend’s previous statement before they walked away completely.

“So… why’re you here with me then?” She retorts, arms crossing over her chest in more of a nervous manner than a confident one. The small thought that he wanted to be there because of her crossed her mind briefly, but a louder, more dominant notion danced all over that, screaming in her face that no one would ever do anything just to be near her. Especially not him. 

He cocks his head to the side, eyes squinting slightly as he analyzes the features of her face, his own arms crossing together as a smirk worms up the side of his face. Calista felt small under his gaze, fearing he was reading her thoughts like an open book like he did the night before.

Little did she know, he is there for her. He’s so infatuated with the thought of getting to know the ins and outs of her, needing to know what exactly makes her, her. It boggles his mind how she seems so reserved, keeping to herself as she fights the thoughts running around her head, yet can turn around and become a strong willed woman the moment someone like Wren comes storming around. 

Harry likes to train by himself, finding it easier to concentrate and better himself when he doesn’t have eyes watching him and analyzing every one of his moves. Plus, he likes the thrill of surprising everyone when he learns a few new tricks to tuck up his sleeves when Duels come around. But, he’s willing to work with Calista, to bend a few of his rules if it means she’ll break down a few of her walls. 

“There’s a first for everything, Darling.”

[haiky-u-lously]

King Kuroo and the Red Knights (9)

Summary:

A Camelot AU where King Arthur is Kuroo Tetsuro, and the Knights of the Roundtable of characters from seasons 1-4 of the HQ anime. Eventual Kuroo X Reader.

Themes:

Action/fighting/killing, dead bodies, Fluff, Angst, Humor, Eventual Romance

Warnings:

Mentions of stalking and abuse of power, Language, Angst in feelings, Gore and fighting, mention of explosion, mention of seeing dead bodies

Word Count:

For Chapter: ~2800words                 

Questions/Comments/Concerns/Ideas welcome as always.

-Admin Red

Hi everyone! First, I’d like to half-apologize for my sudden disappearance from the weekly updates. I say half-apologize because I do feel bad about it, but the first week was supposed to be a break because I’ve had some physical issues come up and it really really hurts to type so I was trying to take a week away from overly stressing my fingers and putting them through more than necessary pain. So like, it was going to be fully justified even though I did feel bad. 

But, after that first weekend without an update I got 7 anon and 2 not-anon asks and 2 direct messages all from individuals basically being hate messages. Regarding how I must be lazy for not keeping my posting up after only two weeks, regarding how the story is crap and they were happy I wasn’t flooding the tags with the b*s anymore. And for how few positive responses I have received regarding the story as a whole after 2 months of posting each week to receive so much after only 1.5 weeks...it was pretty much a punch to the gut.

I realize I am not a top writing for the HQ fandom, I realize that only like...maybe...10 people actually read this story each week, and I am truly grateful to everyone who does. But like that fact that I got so many rude messages as opposed to nice ones really tore me up, especially since in the absence (until yesterday) I hadn’t received any word that anyone was still enjoying the work.

This is why I would like to once again thank the anon who messaged me yesterday. As I said, the kindness you wrote to me made me cry because I’d been so down about this piece. And, I am really glad this work brought you any joy that it did, I hope it continues to do so.

Finally, I have a doctors appointment to get my hands checked out. After basically a month of being in pain with them hopefully something will come of it and I can get back to writing for this work. For now though, here is chapter 9. I hope those following for this piece enjoy it, and honestly if you only wish to send hate please keep it to yourself. Constructive criticism is fine, welcome even (as proven by the fact that I owned up to being wrong about certain characters being third years), but hate messages...those are just pointless.

I hope you like this next installment. Enjoy!

–Admin Red

Chapter 9: Morning of the Tournament

It had been a long few days as the castle staff, knights, and royals of Camelot prepared for the tournament they’d decided to hold. But everyone was in high spirits at breakfast that morning, even Suga and you who’d had a few close calls with your new hall-mate liking to barge in without so much as knocking to indicate his approach.

After the third scare of him walking in while you were eating, you’d started to use your magic to lock the door whenever your helmet was off.

“I still can’t believe how quickly he accepted that you just had (h/l), (h/c) hair when he saw the back of your head,” Suga commented biting into his eggs from his breakfast plate.

You laughed a bit before responding, finishing off your own mouthful of food. “Yea, he is very friendly though. I appreciate how true his comment was. Saying this was the most private hall of the castle? We only come across him regularly, it is pretty nice to be afforded the level of privacy I wanted. Even if there were a few mistakes at the beginning.” You smiled as you went in for more food.

Suga had finished clearing his plate before mouthing to you that he agreed with your assessment.

*knock knock*

When you heard the knocking from your door, rather than the whines of a knight who felt excluded from the so-called party, you knew it was someone other than the King’s right-hand man at your door. Quickly you put your helmet on, still hiding your true identity and removed your magic hold on the door so Suga could open it.

“Excuse me,” Futakuchi called upon entering your chambers. “Ah so you are both here, great! Makes this less work for me then.”

Suga laughed on both of your behalves at the attendant’s joke, having grown accustomed to his sense of humor as it was similar to your own.

“The King has asked me to tell you the order of today’s fights.” He said, pulling a piece of parchment from behind his back with a wide grin.

Suga’s eyes lit up as Futakuchi spoke, and you knew your friend was looking forward to this show of strength as much as any of the men of Camelot, and you smiled proudly behind your face-wear.

When a full minute passed without a word from the magician, Suga threw his hands out in exasperation, “Well then, what is it?”

“Oh, right!” The brunet fumbled the paper before moving to place it on your dining table to review with your pair. “So the first battle will be the most entertaining as the side by side matches should be--!”

His explanation was cut off by the ringing of bells from the courtyard.

“Another attack?” Suga questioned, not knowing the differences in Camelot’s alarm system since you’d heard it less than a handful of times.

Futakuchi shook his head, “No, it means a visitor. But I have no clue who could be approaching today of all days. Come, you should see who it is with me.”

Your group made it down to the front square of the Castle, only to watch as all of the knight’s you’d slowly begun to know over the course of the week run up to a pair of men riding in on horseback!

“You’ve made it!”

“What took you two so long?”

“Where have you been, idiots? The guests of honor arrived a week before you!”

“With Asahi and Ushijima here we are in for a real tournament!”

“Grand welcome for two of Camelot’s strongest! Welcome back to the castle latecomers.”

Watching the group, you realized the men were as close to one another as Suga and you were with your own band of Knights. You were grateful for the reminder of home, even if it made you miss your friends a bit more.

“Ah, so they really did show up today.” You heard from beside you and turned to face the speaker, “Pardon their inept ability to make proper introductions, Red Knight. The two newcomers are the pair I told you about before. Since they have arrived, I may make them participate in the tournament as punishment for being so late.”

You nodded to the King, indicating you’d heard him before stepping back to let him address his men from a better position atop the stairs.

“Thank you,” He smiled fondly before taking your prior position and screaming out to the men below him, “Ushijima! Asahi! Men!” The knights filed up at the base of the staircase, with the two new arrivals front and center. “Why are you so late?”

“Late?” Asahi asked, “You know, you all keep saying we are late, but we just got these summons a few days ago.”

Ushijima just shrugged and looked bored, “If we are supposedly late, we can just go back to where we were.”

The men around the pair started shouting obscenities at their friends’ casualness. You noted the joking manner between the group of twelve and realized that this kingdom truly did feel like they were in a time of peacefulness after the decades of darkness that befell them.

Looking to Suga, you noticed his eyes trained on the men below, joking and horseplaying as he had with his own companions, and you made a note to show how grateful you were to him once more. He’d left his home and friends to stay beside you, the least you could do is remind him how appreciative you were.

“--wever, the matter at fact is that our guests arrived a week before you. To top that, they fought on our side when the castle was attacked without all her guards in place. So I’ve decided you will join our tournament today, and I will not accept any excuses of being tired from your journey.” The King smiled down to his men. The pair grumbled about how unfair a punishment was being forced on them, the other men just showed excitement at the prospect of their friends joining.

“Yes! Yes! Yes! I want to fight Ushi!”

“Hells ya! Make them fight for their dinner while we’re at it!”

“I wouldn’t mind kicking some sense into the glass hearted giant myself!”

“Woaho! Fight time, let’s go!!”

Even the few not shouting out in pure joy had grins on their faces as they looked to and nodded at one another, all of them ready for what they now perceived to be a perfect tournament.

Waving your hand, you caught Suga’s attention, and holding your fingers up to make a triangle, you told him to ask about the tournament set up.

“Excuse us, King Kuroo.” He approached the royal, “This will probably change your line-up for the tournament?”

“You’re right! Futakuchi!” He yelled, to get the attendant’s attention away from joking around with the men below. “Come, we have to rearrange some things.” After his announcement, the King reentered the castle.

As he passed Futakuchi slowed to ask Suga a question, “How against are you showcasing your magic?”

Suga looked to you for your decision. Since showing magic would be the first test against the King’s ability to truly reconnect with the Order you decided it would be a fine move. 

You shrugged your shoulders to indicate you didn’t care either way, leaving it to Suga’s discretion since he too knew of the testing methods.

“If I fight another magician, I don’t mind.” He answered positively.

Futakuchi’s grin overtook his features as he bobbed his head before following after his king.

“You sure like them, don’t you?” You whisper asked your friend.

“Like you don’t?” He laughed back. “If it goes well, perhaps we really can trust this new King and then you can focus on your other mission.”

Behind your shielded mask, you rolled your eyes and stuck out your tongue before answering, “Perhaps you can shut up because no one asked you about that.”

He laughed at your ire, but brought it down to nothing more than a smile seeing the knights climbing the stairs.

“Oh let me introduce you!” Bokuto yelled excitedly seeing your pair atop the staircase. “Ushijima, Asahi, these are the Red Knight representatives. This is Sugawara, the Knight’s squire, and that...well, we just call him the Red Knight, I’ve seemed to have forgotten his name.” The Knight ended up drawing out his introduction as he racked his brain trying to recall it.

“Oh the Red Knight doesn’t mind, we’ve been doing it all week.” Terushima countered, defending his friend’s forgetfulness, and you stifled a laugh as you imagined it was because he too forgot the name you’d chosen to use.

“Wait, you’re Sugawara? From the Order?” A longer haired male asked, stepping from behind the other men to look at your friend closely. After what you guessed was further inspection he grabbed your companion in a tight embrace, “It’s been years! How are you old friend?!” The male shouted in his ears.

You’d moved to unsheath your sword, only to pause at Suga raising his hand towards you.

“It’s okay Yomimasu, I actually think I remember this man.” He finally said once released from the embrace. The taller male backed up and sheepishly scratched at the stubble of hair growing against his jawline. Suga did his own visual study before grinning from ear to ear and giving the man his own version of a soul crushing bear-hug. “Azumane, goor sir. It’s been a long while. Glad to see you’re still alive!”

Hearing the name Suga called, memories flooded your mind of Suga’s friend from the summer years back. A traveling group stayed in a town near your own and the pair met in the forest when Suga was searching for you. After enticing the over-grown child’s help, Suga made fast friends with the boy. Sneaking off himself to go teach him some sword fighting skills and some of the things you’d taught him as well.

“Wait!” Semi interrupted your thoughts and the pair’s reunion. “You two know each other?”

Suga nodded, and Asahi moved to explain, “I stayed a summer nearby to where Suga lived when I was a child. He was the one who taught me to use swords, and his cousin taught us both how to write. Thought I’d never see them again, honestly. What are you doing in Camelot?”

Being questioned, Suga fell back into his more reserved mannerisms, “Of course, I am here as escort to the Red Knight as the Order has sent us to determine if Camelot is worthy of being considered an ally once more.”

The official reason for your visit.

It still angered you that it was your only excuse, that you weren’t meant to share your other reasons. But things were the way they were, and thus you stayed silent, watching the encounter from the sidelines.

“What are you doing as a knight of Camelot? I thought only those in some roundabout way related to the King’s lineage were accepted as knights?” Suga questioned.

“Oh, Kuroo did away with that rule long before he even became King. Quoting about how men should be fighter’s by their merit not their bloodlines.” Yamagata informed your pair.

Aone got a disgusted look on his face that made you want to laugh out, but you swallowed the feeling, he asked, “Did you think we were all somehow related?”

Suga glanced at you, and you did nothing to indicate your own thoughts of the matter, he sighed in defeat and answered, “Well not recently, but yes I felt your family trees must have connected somewhere down the line to the King’s.”

The group of men before him burst into fits of laughter as they regarded the idea and its apparent absurdity. 

“What of your cousin? How does the Princess fair?” Asahi questioned, changing topics to try and save his friend some embarrassment.

“Cousin?” Daichi guffawed.

“Princess?” Atsumu and Osamu blurted out simultaneously.

Your body went stiff at Asahi’s question and you had to take a few deep breaths to calm yourself and tell your mind that they weren’t actually calling to you.

Suga grinned as if he didn’t have a care in the world as he answered his old friend’s question, “She’s happier than she’s ever been, last time I saw her.”

He turned to reenter the castle, probably to return to your room, but you weren’t sure. You were going to follow him  but stopped dead in your tracks as Bokuto, Satori, Terushima and Atsumu all followed after him, asking so many questions over one another even you couldn’t make any of them out.

“So who are you?” A tall man, with short dark hair turned to you. He felt like he’d probably be more intimidating than Aone, but as you were currently sporting a full suit of armor, and held a secret that none in Camelot, save your own friend, knew, you didn’t actually feel frightened.

Daichi and Iwaizumi both stepped between your figure and the large knight, hands up defensively.

“Actually, Ushijima, while in uniform the Knight cannot speak. It’s a little challenging, but we’ve managed pretty well this past week. It’s easier to ask simple questions.” Daichi informed, and you appreciated the complete switch in the knight’s attitudes since you’d first arrived.

Iwaizumi nodded, “The letter you received should have detailed the purpose of their visit, Futa did a great job explaining everything in ours at least. We did a shite job of first impressions the night they arrived and yet he still helped us defend Camlot’s castle. The Red Knight is good people, trust us on that in the very least.” 

It amazed you how much the male reminded you of your old childhood acquaintance. You wished you’d know the boy better to tell if he was the same man for sure, but alas, only Oikawa would have known...And, it’d been years since you’d seen him either. You felt the tear roll down your cheek before realizing you’d started to cry at the recollection. Closing your eyes you let your mind settle on nothingness to rid it of the negative memories regarding your ex-friend.

“Then perhaps you can answer simple yes or no questions?” The giant, presumably Ushijima questioned you. Upon seeing you nod, he hummed before continuing, “Are you really only here to see if Camelot can reconnect with your Order?”

While you knew how Suga would want you to respond, you also knew it wouldn’t be truthful. It’d been a long week developing trust with the members of Camelot’s court, and you the only way to keep that streak would be to stay honest. You shook your head in the negative.

Ignoring the shocked exclamations of the men around him, your interrogator continued. “Do you wish to bring Camelot or Kuroo harm?”

You stood at attention and shook your head once more, expressing clear displeasure at the mere idea.

The male hummed before bowing out of his inquisition, “I see. I look forward to getting to know you then.”

Watching him move inside the castle, you stayed where you were in anticipation of the other’s questions to follow your first answer.

“Aye, you weren’t being serious in having another motive, were you?” Osamu questioned, looking at you with disbelief dancing in his eyes.

You just bowed your head in apology.

“Does Sugawara know of your other mission?” Daichi questioned further.

You thought for a moment before rocking your hand side-to-side in front of you, telling the knights he kind of knew a bit about it, but entirely.

Semi shook his head and stepped forward, a frown clear on his face as he tried to find your eyes hidden in the shadows of your helmet, “Have you deceived us?”

His voice sounded so angry, almost threateningly so, but you knew you couldn’t answer that question without Suga by your side to explain. Thankfully you didn’t have to.

“Oi!” King Kuroo yelled from one of the windows overlooking the front gate. “Get to the main hall for review of the schedule!”

“In a minute!” Semi yelled back, still looking you up and down distrustingly.

Kuroo didn’t like this attitude in his knight’s defiance and yelled back, “Now!” Then laughed as he added, “Or no supper for any of the knights, Semi!”

The silver haired male tsk’d in annoyance before rushing inside.

“We trust you,” A voice called your attention from watching the others follow after him. “Not sure why it’s such a strong trust, but we do.” Aone looked at you directly, unbeknownst to him catching your eyes’ gaze with ease. “Don’t betray us.”

What could you do but bow in a show of understanding and acceptance. You really didn’t wish to betray them, and should they discover your secret in a manner not befitting your true identity, then the power will lie with them to do with you as they please.

   _______________________________________________

Table of contents:

Chapter 8                                                     Chapter 10