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shoutogepi · 4 years ago

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A Million Times Over, part 2

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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Todoroki Shouto x American!Reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 6.4k

[ ☀︎, ☁︎, ✘ (nsfw!) ] (series warnings)

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : NSFW references (no explicit smut this chapter)

𝐛𝐢𝐨 : You lose all memories from the past five years of your life due to an accident-induced coma, including any recollection of your beloved boyfriend and fellow pro-hero, Shouto. He’s devastated that you don’t remember him, but the both of you are determined to get your memories back, no matter how long it takes. In the meantime, you attempt to rebuild your relationship with him… while also nurturing the spark that’s still very much lit between you two.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : Yaaaaaa babie so part 2 is finally finished! I’m wicked excited to finish the series next chapter and ughhh the smut is gonna be so good omg. Just wait.

𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : shout out to @shotoh for beta-reading this for me, what a saint <3

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─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🄸t was warm.

There was something heavy on your middle, but it didn’t feel like a nuisance— it was a welcome weight, one that somehow made comfort seep from your chest and fill the rest of your body with a quiet sense of peace. You hummed as sleep’s grasp on you lightened, the cogs in your mind beginning to turn. The hospital bed had never been this comfortable before, and the acrid smell of antiseptic and bustle of the doctors outside your door was peculiarly absent. Instead, a pleasant scent of laundry and cologne lingered on your pillowcase, making the corners of your mouth pull up in a droopy smile.

Your eyes opened as you recalled where you were, and whose arms you were lying in— whose gentle breaths blew at your hair and tickled the shell of your ear. Letting out a slow exhale, you blinked the sleep from your eyes, legs attempting to move, only to find them tangled with the muscled calves of your bedmate who, you prayed to whatever divine presence that was out there, was still asleep.

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However, when you tried to move away, a low groan sounded in your ear, scattering the stray hairs that laid out of place there. Like a sleeping bear, the arm around your waist curled around you tighter, pressing your entire body directly against the hard contour of his. You swallowed, blinking owlishly as you tried not to think about the sizeable semi-hardness poking into your backside, nor the rough fingertips that splayed out on the smooth expanse of your stomach at the bottom of your shirt, the very pinky dipping under the waistband of your sleep shorts and panties, palm warming your skin just enough to make your heart awaken for the day.

Your breath was caught in your throat, and you didn’t dare move another inch. Even if you didn’t have your memories of the man you shared your life with for the past few years, the moments the two of you had shared throughout the past week were enough to have butterflies fluttering to life in your stomach. The feeling of simply being in his arms, tucked under the sheets and cocooned in his warmth and his scent, it all had your body feeling like it was at peace.

At home.

Shouto’s hand was lying open beside your face, his arm tucked underneath your neck as he must’ve fallen asleep spooning you, and not since shifted away throughout the night. His fingers twitched in his sleep just slightly, and you took the moment to admire the long, slender digits. For a man of his size and stature, they were surprisingly thin, almost as if in another life he could have tickled piano keys for a living. But they were also marred with scars and calluses from his herowork— none open nor recent, seeing as he had taken the last month off to watch over you. Reaching for his hand, you traced the lines on his palm, trailing your fingertips over his skin and finding yourself lost in thought. You wondered if this was how you usually slept, if this was what you woke up to every day…

If that was your reality, you would happily accept it.

Being in Shouto’s arms made you feel safe, protected from the troubles of life. You already harbored silly feelings for him before you had even met him, and now that you had, those feelings had only been amplified, each day spent with him a catalyst to the reaction he triggered in your heart.

You bit your lip, twisting your spine so you could look at him. Holding your breath as you finally laid eyes on him, you took your time to admire him in all his slumbered glory. Your eyes loitered on his high cheekbones, the sharp angle of his jawline, and then the placid expression he donned while he slept, not plagued with the usual lacing of concern that he wore throughout the day. He was so… handsome. In all his hardened, heroic glory, he still managed to look like a prince straight out of every little girl’s storybook. And he certainly had the body to go with it as well— the fruits of his training on full display for you as you marveled at his naked chest.

Your heart leapt into your throat when he stirred, his arm around your waist coming to rub at his tired eyes. Watching his grey eye open slightly, your breath caught at the crooked grin that blossomed on his lips when he locked eyes with you.

“Mmm morning princess,” he rumbled, hand landing on your stomach to push your body backwards into his. He didn’t mind the little squeak of surprise you let out, nuzzling his face into your neck and slinging his leg across your hips once he flattened them onto the mattress. Your face felt like it was on fire, his morning… problem pressed firmly against your back now as he moaned in content, scattering lazy kisses across your throat.

You gasped when his hand on your stomach suddenly jumped up to grope your breast over your shirt, his fingers kneading tenderly as tingles fired across your nerves. It felt good to be receiving his unbridled affection— too good, really, as he started to suck at your neck. Your body cried out for his touch but you had barely even kissed last night— this was too much, too fast.

“Sh-Shouto!”

He paused, head rearing back as he detected the urgency in your voice, sleepy eyes locking with yours with his brows furrowed underneath his frazzled bed-head. It took him a moment before his eyes widened and horror replaced the slumber that had impeded his judgement before, his body jumping to the other side of the bed instantly as his cheeks flushed a bright pink. “I— I’m so sorry, Y/n, fuck— I didn’t…” he stammered, embarrassment evident as the pink turned to red, little flames sprouting on the left side of his head while his eyes flew about, unable to meet your gaze.

You instantly felt guilty, his demeanor apologetic. It was clear that he was frustrated with himself. “It’s okay, I’m not mad, I was just… it was just, um, unexpected?” you tried to laugh but it came out sounding more like a choke.

“Damn it…” Shouto mumbled, his hands coming to drag across his face morosely. The flames that licked at his side sizzled out, indicating that he was no longer so much shocked as he was contrite. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, muffled by his hands that still occupied his face. “It was just… I forgot for a second and... I didn’t mean to— to, well, come onto you. God, I’m sorry.”

You watched him for a second, your heart suddenly heavy with the sadness that leaked from his choice of words. For the first time in a long time, he had woken up with you in his arms, and he had forgotten about the absolute shitstorm of the month he’d had. That was probably how he acted when he woke up normally, as your sweet and loving boyfriend— showering you in affection was his first instinct of the day, and there was nothing wrong with that.

“It’s really okay, Sho. I was just surprised,” you peeped, trying to relieve him of some of the stress that he was so apparently harboring. “It’s not like I hated it…”

Shouto processed your words for a moment before one hand rose from his face, his brow contorted into a mix between accusatory and suggestive. There was a hint of a smile threatening to bloom on his lips, but he remained silent as he stared at you.

“I just meant that— well… we could lay here for a bit before we get up for the day. If… If that’s our usual routine or, if you would be interested in that!” You could feel your face getting hot now, the embarrassment transferring from him to you.

But Shouto chose not to tease you, instead scooting back over to you in the middle of the bed. “You always did like your morning cuddles,” he said, mouth turning at the corners into a smirk.

“Whatever, just— just keep your third leg to yourself, okay? Arms only!” You shared a quick look with him, the both of you shocked that you had really just said that.

But Shouto followed your request, flipping so he laid on his belly before his arm hooked out to bring you into his side, nose pressing up against your ear as you were on your back. The butterflies were back and busy again in your stomach— his touch just did something to you, it was both exhilarating and infuriating when he had hardly done anything.

“Never heard that one before,” he murmured lowly, snark lurking in his voice. “You’re usually quite fond of my third leg, dear.”

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The rest of the morning went more according to plan. After a considerable amount of time lying in the sheets with Shouto cuddling into your side, you finally parted ways and went about getting ready for the day. There was a sense of giddiness pumping through your veins as your boyfriend left you stationed in front of your closet, mumbling something about preparation before you headed out.

Mostly, you were looking forward to going on your date. But then, there was also the surprised excitement that came from the sight of your walk-in closet, complete with rows of neatly organized clothes and a built-in wall with shelves and drawers, even a glass display case full of glittering jewels and gems in designs all tailored to your taste. You took a moment to pat yourself on the back. Not only did you seem to have the man of your dreams, but you had also attained your dream closet? If this was truly a dream, you most definitely did not want to wake up.

It took you an absurdly long amount of time to piece together your outfit. It was partially because you stopped to ogle at pretty much every hanger you rifled through, and partially because you were completely unsure of what clothes Shouto particularly enjoyed seeing you in. There was a sneaking suspicion that his preference was for you to not be clothed at all… but it wasn’t like you could go out on your date in your birthday suit. And, that would mean exposing your bare body to him, and you weren’t sure if you were ready for that just yet.

But that didn’t mean you weren’t insanely attracted to him— because you definitely were. Just, the situation you were in was a delicate one, and when you did decide to indulge in the physicalities of your relationship, it would be after you had no more questions to ask him. You just weren’t quite there yet.

So, you decided on a pair of dark jeans and a flowy blouse that showcased your shoulders, matching the color of your shoes, belt, and purse. After a quick makeup routine, you chose to spruce up the outfit with a little jewelry, seeing as you had quite an ample selection to choose from. A shiny pair of hoops for your ears came easily enough, but you struggled to find a necklace which would pull everything together. Your eyes wandered over the chains of gold and silver, some shining with bright gems and some intricate enough with just the curve of the metal. It was then that you noticed a simple but very elegant necklace, its blue-topaz pendant catching your gaze. As you inspected the glittering stone, a warm feeling pooled in your chest, and you found your fingers reaching for the jewelry without thought. There was something special about this necklace, but what, exactly, you couldn’t identify.

It was incredibly frustrating. This was the closest you had come to remembering anything since you had woken up a week ago… and while it was certainly progress, it was infuriating to have the recollection dangling just barely out of your reach. You stared at the brilliant cyan gem for another moment before deciding that you weren’t going to remember based on willpower alone, securing the clasp around your neck. If that were the case, then you would have your memory back already, you were sure. You left the room with your shoes in hand, sock-clad feet padding quietly against the shiny hardwood floors while a sour taste dwelled on the back of your tongue.

Yet somehow, the second your eyes met Shouto’s, the feeling of self-loathing was instantly quelled, replaced with a pleasant wave of some feeling you couldn’t quite put your finger on. His eyes had locked onto the stone around your neck right as you walked into the kitchen, and immediately a smile graced his lips as he found your gaze.

You couldn’t help but return one, your eyes flickering to the floor before returning to him, overwhelmed with the tingles that zipped through you. He hadn’t really given you the chance to take in the outfit he had chosen before he left you to dress, and you found yourself appreciating the soft, cream sweater that fell just over his denim-clad hips.

“Wow, you look…” his eyes trailed down your form and then back up, his smile just as full. He let out a soft laugh, head tilting back before his attention returned to you, as if he didn’t quite believe the sight in front of him. “Beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

You already knew you looked good, but still, hearing the compliment roll off his tongue made your stomach leap up beside your heart. “Thank you, Sho. You look beautiful, too,” you teased, trying to downplay the effect his words had on you.

Even though his cheeks dusted with a light pink, his expression remained unchanged, gaze dropping to the pendant resting in the middle of your chest again. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but he held his tongue.

Just as you were about to tell him about the feeling you’d gotten earlier, he turned and grabbed some things from the counter behind him, whisking them into his arms. There was a curious look you shot him as you examined the numerous hats he offered to you, one of your brows rising at the variety.

Shouto didn’t give you the chance to ask, launching into explanation without your prompt. “You and I are technically celebrities. So it’s best if we conceal our faces while we’re out in public.” His gaze dropped to the brim of the gray suede boater in his hand, his thumb trailing across the soft material. “I don’t want you ambushed today. The public has missed you while you’ve been out of commission, so if we’re spotted, I’ll have to share you… and I don’t think either of us is ready for that quite yet.”

You nodded, ignoring the giddiness that bloomed in the depths of your stomach at his choice of words. Reaching for a floppy hat, your fingers brushed over his sweater as you grabbed your choice of camouflage. The fit was snug around your head, the silky ribbon tied around the crown the perfect match to your shoes. Shouto put on his hat as well, making sure to tuck the white half of his hair up and out of sight, giving him a faux monochromatic appearance. He wordlessly handed you a pair of large sunglasses, which you slid onto your face without protest. He mirrored your action, choosing a dark pair of aviators that helped disguise his famous scar.

“How do I look?” You asked, doing a little spin for full emphasis. The movement put a little smile on Shouto’s face, his eyes roaming your figure leisurely before he offered a thumbs up.

“Enchanting as always, love,” he replied stoically, the suavity and candor of his response aiding to the warm, swirling feeling in your stomach. But his expression morphed into a playful smirk, eyes twinkling with mischief. “What about me?”

A laugh trickled out of you as he copied your twirl, his execution somehow more graceful than yours. His pink lips curled into a genuine smile at your giggle, ending his mock demonstration in a curtsey. This only caused you to swat at him in exaggeration, taking the first steps towards the door.

“Equally enchanting,” you replied, not a hint of a lie in your voice. Your conviction made Shouto stutter, his grin melting to a flustered purse of the lip. It was then that you took his hand decisively, chuckling as you placed a swift kiss to his cheek. “Ready to go.”

It took him a moment to buffer, but he quickly recovered, a warm flush coloring his cheeks as his fingers squeezed yours. The digits of his other hand curled around the small of your waist, guiding you through the door.

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Your eyes widened as Shouto pulled the sleek car into the parking space, your surroundings somewhat familiar. When you had asked where he was taking you, he hadn’t revealed any clues, preferring to give a vague “someplace you’ll enjoy” before effectively killing the conversation. You probably should’ve expected it, but surprise overtook you as you turned the sidewalk corner and there stood the cat cafe the pair of you had passed on your way back from the hospital just yesterday.

When you turned to look at Shouto, his eyes were already inspecting your reaction, the excitement written obviously all over your face. He regarded you with a quiet, knowing smile as he opened the door for you, the bell tinkling overhead and the quiet mewls of kittens further inside distinctly ringing in your ears. Right as you stepped inside, a fluffy, smoosh-face cat curled around your ankles, brushing and sniffing at you in greeting. Shouto made a joke about the fluffy beast being the cutest host he’d ever seen, his smile only growing when you laughed in return.

Once you were seated, tucked in a comfy pair of chairs in the corner of the cafe, a waitress came over to take your orders. What took you by surprise was that Shouto ordered for you— the exact confection and drink you were eyeing when you peeked at the menu. He shot you a little smirk at the cuteness of your impressed expression, asking if you’d like to add anything and turning the staff person's attention to you. At your denial, they excused themself, leaving you alone with Shouto once more.

There was a palpable tension in the air between the two of you. Unbeknownst to you, the other cafe goers could practically see the sparks flying between you.

“So… do we come here a lot?” you inquired, taking a tentative sip of your ice water and training your eyes on the top button of his shirt. It was just too intense to stare him straight in the eye sometimes…

Shouto took a moment to reply, looking through his red and white bangs at you fondly, leaning back in his chair before shaking his head. “Truthfully, we’ve never been here before.” He gauged the surprise in your eyes, a little knowing smile resting on his plump lip before he continued. “You always wanted to try this place but we hadn’t gotten around to it… you even picked out the food you wanted in case we came. I hope your tastes remain unchanged? If I ordered something you don’t want, I’ll call the waiter over.”

It was then your turn to shake your head, a quick and decisive answer. “No, you got it right,” you reassured, hands wringing slowly underneath the table in your lap. “The only other thing I wanted to try was the drink you ordered, so it’s fine!”

“Have as much as you like,” he suavely suggested, his tone sounding more like a demand than an offer. Just as he focused his eyes on yours, he was interrupted by a fuzzy orange kitten jumping into his lap, settling into a tiny loaf across his thighs and staring up at him expectantly.

You and Shouto both buffered for a moment before you let out a laugh at the sight of such a tiny creature in your broad boyfriend’s embrace. Shouto began to chuckle too, giving the creature a little scratch under the chin. The kitten meowed happily in agreement, placing its head onto its paws and settling in for a nap. You let the comfortable silence last for a minute before you meandered back into conversation.

“So um, earlier, when we were getting ready to go out…,” your fingers absentmindedly wandered to the pendant resting in the middle of your collar bones. “I saw this necklace in my closet and I felt like it was… important? And then I thought I caught you looking at it earlier too maybe? Do you know if it has any significant meaning or anything?”

Shouto’s gaze remained on the cat in his lap for another moment before it flicked over to you, and once again, you were stunned by the amount of emotion in his mismatched eyes. “I gave it to you,” he answered, his free hand fiddling with the sunglasses that now hung in the middle of his shirt collar. “It was for our first anniversary.”

You didn't really know what to make of that, the newfound knowledge resonating through you as you tried to remember anything about that day at all.

“I chose that color because you said you loved it… the color of my eyes. Or�� eye— I suppose,” he gestured to the piercing cerulean orb that rested on his hot side, standing out even more against the muddled skin of his scar.

Your head nodded as you processed his answer, your finger nudging at the handle of your cutlery absentmindedly. “You do have nice eyes,” you mumbled, your veins pumping with a warmth you'd come to recognize as his natural effect on you.

Shouto smiled at that, his gaze focused on the pendant gleaming in the sun’s gentle caress. You could feel the intensity of his eyes there in the center of your chest, the modest amount of exposed cleavage feeling hot under his inspection.

At his silence, you continued on, your flusteredness forcing your mouth to move without much reason. “And— you have great taste in jewelry too, I mean, this is really beautiful.”

“It suits you,” he replied instantly, as if such words required no thought whatsoever.

That just made your cheeks feel even hotter, and a surprised chuckle sounded past your lips, his compliment egging on the butterfly swarm in your belly. “Thank you… I’m glad you have enough rationale to avoid a cheesy heart with your name on it or something.”

Shouto’s eyes fleed yours at that, taking a tentative sip of his water. You watched his pink lips curl into a subtle, knowing smirk. He yelped when you kicked his ankle underneath the table, gaze returning to you. He regarded your inquisitorial expression for a moment before he shrugged, his cheeks tinged with the lightest of pinks. “I have actually given you something like that before…”

You bit your lip, now wanting to kick yourself for making fun of the sweet yet idiotic, classic boyfriend gift. Heart jewelry, of course…

“And you really liked it… maybe almost as much as me,” he finished, and you watched as his blush deepened a few shades.

The waiter chose that moment to deliver your drinks, the conversation halting awkwardly before they took their leave once again.

“I really liked it?” You parroted, perplexed. There was no way you would find such a cheesy gift endearing enough to actually enjoy it.

Shouto adjusted himself in his chair, clearing his throat awkwardly. His eyes once again couldn’t meet yours, his fingertips tapping on the edge of the table. “Yeah it— it’s an anklet… it um, has my initials on the charm…” he mumbled, suddenly shy. “You seem to enjoy wearing it when we… when I— when I take you.”

“Oh.”

Your face felt on fire, neither of you brave enough to look each other in the eye following his confession. There wasn’t much you knew about your sex life with Shouto— though you assumed it to be very much alive, and healthily so— but just by the way he phrased that, your thighs were clenching together at the image your brain so kindly painted you.

Shouto was a big, strong man… one who was very proportional, as you recalled from the incident that occurred this morning. The thought of him taking you made your insides squirm with interest, fluttering at the premise of being stretched around him. You took another sip of your drink before the food thankfully arrived, allowing the pair of you to drop the conversation.

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After you finished eating, Shouto took you to the trader’s market around the corner. There were people crowding the streets and trickling through the crosswalks, even though it was a late morning on a Friday and most of the population should’ve been busying away at their jobs. The bustle of the city should’ve been overwhelming for you— Shouto kept you close to his side at all times, his gaze scrutinizing any looks that lasted too long toward your direction. And yet, you were having a blast, flittering about and exploring the vendors’ stands and the numerous trinket stalls that lined the busy square. His hand was always holding yours. Even when you got more invested in the items on display before you, his fingers would linger at your waist, making his relationship to you apparent to any bystanders.

Sunlight streamed down in between the tall buildings surrounding you, reflecting off the windows like mirrors and making you grateful for the shade of your hat. That made you extra thankful for the ghost of Shouto’s hand across your skin, welcoming the coolness exuding off of his right side. There was a light-hearted conversation between the pair of you, and many grannies waved you over to inspect their merchandise by calling out to the pair of lovebirds. The repeated label made Shouto puff up in pride, aiding him to stand tall and retain the advantage he had on you in terms of height.

Whenever your gaze lingered on something for a second too long, Shouto was instantly handing bills over to the merchants, insisting they take the change or at least tipping them appreciatively. By the time the two of you had visited every stall, numerous bags hung from his left arm, all precariously stacked so the fingers on his other hand could remain laced with yours.

He noticed your wary gaze on the bags, your expression giving your thoughts away immediately. “Don’t worry love,” he reassured, squeezing your fingers in his, “they’re no trouble at all.” At your attempt to grab a few and lessen the load, he pivoted and held them above your head. He frowned, keeping them out of reach as you continued your attempt, swatting at him gently.

“Just let me have one at least,” you pouted, your voice morphing into a little whine. That got him to grin, conceding and handing you the smallest, lightest bag of the bunch. He feigned ignorance when you shot him a playful glare in response, choosing now to steer you toward another topic instead.

“Would it ruin the date if we stopped by my office? I just need to drop off the folders I finished up last night, and the building is just a block over. It should only take a minute.”

You shook your head, shrugging your shoulders. “Sure,” you agreed, allowing his fingers to slip back into yours. Having your hand in his felt natural to you, the warmth of his skin welcomed. “I want to see your agency, anyway!”

It was a short walk to his workplace, as promised. The building was one of the tallest in the surrounding area, with sleek windows paneling all sides and reflecting the orange light of the barely-setting sun. The security guards didn’t bother the pair of you, Shouto acknowledging them with a nod as he slipped off his disguise. The elevator opened and Shouto flashed his badge at the sensor, then pushed the button for one of the floors higher up in the building.

In no time at all, the doors opened again and he led you past the couple secretaries that were perched behind their desks. You could feel their eyes glued to your back, and you were sure that the second you were safely located behind the glass doors to the hallway, they’d launch into discussion. The thought slipped your mind as you came round the corner, Shouto guiding you through the nearest door and ushering you into a large sitting room. Two doors were situated on either side of the room, long glass walls dividing the quarters. One door led to Shouto’s office, as designated by the nearby nameplate. The other you were about to read just as it opened, and a familiar, sharp-toothed redhead bounded toward the pair of you.

Immediately you grinned, ripping your hand from Shouto’s as you launched yourself at the famed Red Riot, one of Japan’s finest heroes lifting you off your feet in an enthusiastic embrace. Your laughs echoed around the room, Kirishima’s chuckles following as he spun you around. Shouto watched silently, a small frown adorning his lip while your gleeful laughs met his ears. He hadn’t heard such a sound in what seemed like forever, and even though he was not the cause of it, he couldn’t help but relish in it.

After a moment, Kirishima put you down and pulled Shouto in for a quick half-hug, patting him on the shoulder as his eyes then returned to you. “Well look who it is,” he grinned, his pointy teeth on display, hands landing on his narrow hips. “It’s so good to see you up and about, Y/n.”

“It’s good to see you too, Kiri,” you mirrored his expression, taking in his appearance.

Shouto watched your eyes rove over him, a sour taste developing at the back of his tongue. You had recognized Kirishima immediately— fondly, even— when it had taken hard work and ample time for you to warm up to him. It had taken a week for you to call him by his usual nickname, and yet, you called Kirishima by his own instantly. He could feel himself turning green at the realization, his frown remaining as his eyes sharpened in scrutiny.

“Wow,” you exclaimed after you had fully appraised the hero, even taking in the scarlet costume that had been updated since the last time you’d seen him. “You look great! Five years has really done you well, hmm? You’re totally ripped. Last time I saw you I swear you were shorter!”

Kirishima laughed and toed at the ground bashfully— never one to handle compliments very well. “Ah, thanks Y/n… gotta stay in shape when your costume has you shirtless all day, right?”

Shouto couldn’t help the envy that rose up inside of him as he watched you chatter eagerly with his coworker… even though he knew you had no control of what memories you lost, it still stung to watch you engage with and compliment another man. Especially when he hadn’t received such easy affection from you in much too long.

“You look much better, too,” Kirishima continued, glancing at Shouto as he picked up on the temperature drop in the room. Somehow you didn’t seem to notice the frost gathering on Shouto’s wrist as a result of his displeasure. “Erm— last time I saw you was in the hospital when you were still in your coma. I was so relieved to hear you woke up! Then I figured it would be easier for you if you didn’t have any visitors, though… that’s what your f— um, Shouto said would be best, anyway.”

At the mention of his name, you glanced at the half-and-half man beside you, shooting him a thankful smile that had his heart fluttering and his jealousy waning. He cleared his throat and nodded, casting a forced smile at the other hero. “Yes, well… I have to step into my office quickly, would you entertain her for a moment?”

Kirishima opened his mouth to reply, but Shouto was already halfway through the door, leaving the pair of you slightly stunned. You could see him through the glass wall, eyes following him and wondering why his curt attitude left a bitter taste in your mouth.

“So um…” The redhead turned to look at you, prompting you to do the same. “You really lost all your memories of him?”

The question hit you like he had dunked you in ice cold water, and you stiffened up immediately. Kirishima panicked then, eyes growing wide and covering his mouth.

“I can’t believe I just blurted that out— I just… You guys are so in love, I can’t imagine you two not together,” he explained earnestly, his brow furrowed. His honesty made your stomach burst with butterflies, the premise of being loved by Shouto and being able to love him made you feel flustered as hell.

“We are together,” you clarified, and Kirishima nodded. “Just not as together as before, I guess? It’s just… he makes me feel so many things and I barely know him. But he knows me? Like, intimately. It feels like he knows me more than I know myself sometimes. I dunno, it’s just… complicated, Kiri.”

He smiled in understanding, eyes sympathetic as you spilled your troubles to him. It was nice talking to someone who wasn’t Shouto— as much as you liked him, talking to him was difficult because he made you fumble with your words. You said things you didn’t mean to say when you were with him. Kirishima continued, “If there’s one thing I know, it’s that you guys are crazy in love. Like, you’re the couple I aspire to be in some day.”

You grabbed his hand and grinned at that, his sincerity making your heart melt. “Awe, Kiri… It’s good to see you haven’t changed from how I remember you. You’re still the sweetest.”

Kirishima laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Just be yourself with him… I think it’ll put you both at ease. You’re really good for each other— he was devastated the whole time you were asleep.”

The admission made a lump appear in your throat, your eyes feeling glassy all the sudden.

“He hasn’t acted this frigid since his high school days… Long before he met you. I think you make him feel relaxed. I mean, that’s how he always looks when he’s with you, or thinking about you. I can tell when we’re on patrol and he’s daydreaming about you, ‘cus he’ll just walk right into a lamp pole.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the image, cursing the timing when the door opened and Shouto stepped out, his eyes landing on you and then hardening as they moved to Kirishima. He stepped toward him, but you intercepted him and laced your arms around his middle instead, stopping him with your embrace.

Shouto faltered at the sudden display of affection, his cheeks growing hot as he locked gazes with Kirishima, his eyes then dropping to the top of your head as you hid your face in his chest. He was frozen mid-breath, completely still as you held him. His cool, clean scent swallowed you as you kept your head nuzzled into his front, his fingers limp as your hand found his.

With a small step back, you ceased your embrace, your fingers squeezing his tightly as your eyes captured his and you gave him a shy smile. His cheeks only darkened, the grimace that had occupied his face long gone and instead replaced with an awed blankness. His lips parted and moved pointlessly, as if he wanted to say something but no sound escaped him.

“It was nice catching up Kiri,” you said, eyes still locked with Shouto’s heterochromatic ones before you turned to the red hero, who was awkwardly looking to the side as he shuffled his weight between his feet.

Kirishima looked at you and laughed awkwardly once again. You began to exit with Shouto in tow behind you, the hero’s crimson gaze following the pair of you. “Ah, yeah, you too! Let’s meet up soon!”

Then the glass door closed, and you were once again in the vicinity of the secretaries' blatant gawking. You pointedly ignored them as you strode toward the elevator, with their soundlessly boss still trailing behind you. As you waited for the elevator to ascend to your floor, you caught Shouto looking at you funny in your peripheral vision. Yet when you turned to look at him, he only reached out and pulled you into his chest.

Caught by surprise, a meek noise slipped out of you before you collided with his pecs once again, his arms wrapping around you to secure you in place. He nuzzled into your hair and inhaled deeply, uncaring of the secretaries' stares.

Only when the elevator arrived did he pull away, to guide you inside and away from the prying eyes. When the doors were closed, he leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on the crest of your cheek, a wisp of his peppermint-laced breath cooling your skin just as heat rushed there from his lips.

“Let’s go home, love,” Shouto murmured against your skin, knuckles nudging yours before your fingers curled around his. You nodded, holding his arm with your free hand and coming to stand by his side as the elevator rushed toward the ground. A peaceful moment of silence fell upon you and Shouto, giving you time for contemplation.

Any sane woman would've taken one look at Kirishima and felt at least a pinch of interest twirl inside her stomach. He was caring and handsome as they come, and yet he did absolutely nothing for you. Somehow when you were confronted with his chiseled abs and warm gaze, you felt less than when Shouto even glanced at you. You concluded that your body was definitely in love with him… and your heart longed to be the same. But part of you still had questions that needed to be resolved before you could really give yourself to him… and little did he know, you would find the answers to said questions so soon.

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

ahh i love this sho so much, he’s trying so hard... poor babie 🥺 next part i will be much kinder to him <3 if you enjoyed please be sure to reblog and or leave me a comment •ᴥ•

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

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0risha · 4 years ago

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affiliation.

PAIRING : gojo x fem!reader

SUMMARY : due to the actions of your now ex-lover, getou suguru, your future of becoming a sorcerer is no more and now it's time to say your goodbyes.

TAGS : angst, comfort, unrequited pining, a curse word or two, contains slight manga spoilers so proceed with caution. reader is described as a female?? reader has curly hair

NOTES : this has been sitting in my drafts for a hot minute, hope you enjoy!

Terminated. Terminated? Your first reaction is to cackle, to laugh at the faces that stare right back at you with leering eyes. But the only thing you can choke out is an, "you can’t be serious?”

Your voice raises several octaves higher than normal and your face is etched with the expression of pure, refined disbelief. Choosing to scan the faces that sit at the circular table shrouded in a low cloud of darkness —which sets the mood in an eerie cinematic way— you find sneered lips and mock smiles.

"Correct, your third year at Jujutsu tech is ending in a week, you can decide for yourself to stay or leave during that remaining time, your choice. Any objections?"

“You’re terminating my contract to become a sorcerer for some incident I wasn’t even involved in?” You internally wince at your dismissive tone because you know that the so-called was not just some incident. It had torn both Getou and Gojo into unsalvageable pieces, thrown towards the deep sea. Getou’s own so bottomless that he had gone on a murdering spree.

One that the higher-ups were blaming you for because as his significant other you should have been the one to stop him. Which —at the start— you thought was so incredibly far fetched but as you pondered past actions you couldn't help but think otherwise.

A lasso of anger —your own— is cracked against the confining walls of the conference room. You think they can feel it, no, you know they can feel the spiked level your cursed energy has entered and Gojo can feel it too because he's bursting through the conference room door, grabbing your arm and hauling ass before you can retaliate.

By the time you're met with a blue sky and the sun's gaze, you have to blink multiple times. One, to become accustomed to the befallen light, and two, to snap out of your stupor.

In your crestfallen state, Gojo takes his time to scan your face. He basks in the way the sliver of the sun causes your skin to glow and the way your slightly pointed nose scrunches up in anger.

In reverence, he skims through his shared memories with you. The start of it all, when you waltzed through Jujutsu Tech with survivor’s guilt so intense that he and the other first-years could feel it. The result of your parents dying in a freak accident, which so happened to be the day you had started to see curses.

When you snap out of it, you’re met with the sight of electric blue eyes. Ones that shine with an intense shade of worry. And it’s a jubilee because the Gojo Satoru is worried. You’d never seen him in this state, ever. In your state of surprise, your eyes flicker from Gojo’s to a pair of colored onyx.

He remembers your closed-off demeanor that he and Shoko decided to slowly shave off and the way you gravitated towards Getou more than he saw fit and oh gosh, why did it have to be him? He knows that now as a third-year you have no fundamental reason to be in Japan but he can't help but to think selfishly —stay with me.

Because now, after making the selfish decision of not killing his best friend, he's not too sure where the lines of coincidences might meet.

Megumi. I have to leave Megumi.

“Megumi! I didn’t even know you were here!” You smile and pat his tufts of dark hair that fell in all sorts of different directions.

“You’ve always been so quiet,” you whisper, crouching down to his height as his colored eyes rapidly flutter shut. Although, not being a fan of Gojo or anyone for that matter. Megumi showed signs of slight attachment towards you. Ranging from returned hugs, and shared giggles here and there. The young boy never had a way with words and physical touch, but from time to time he seemed to enjoy your presence.

The mere thought of having to leave him causes your chest to ache as you stand up from your kneeling position to, again, staring at the clouded sky in the distance. But there was no other resolution, you had to leave Japan.

In your half-decade of being situated in the bustling streets of Tokyo, you’d grown accustomed to every aspect of the city. You’d made so many bonds. One’s that in a week would be snipped by the scissors of a very cruel fate.

There was Shoko, a cigarette-addicted teenager that acted more like a nagging mother than a friend.

Gojo, who had been injected with a childlike aura since birth and acted more like a fussy toddler than the strongest sorcerer there is.

And Getou, the man your heart mistakenly bled for. He was always such a serious person, even behind closed doors but you never doubted that he loved you. He always chose to express his partiality through gasoline-filled words, ones that you digested and had caused your chest to burst with licking flames of devotion.

Getou, the same man that had caused you to land in this mess. Albeit, the expulsion of what was supposed to be your future position, you couldn’t find it in you to be angry. Only feeling crashing tides of guilt.

“Not your fault, it’s not your fault.” You're pulled from your thoughts to feel calloused hands attached to your cheeks that are surprisingly wet with your tears.

Through your blurred vision, you see Gojo’s bright eyes staring into your very own. Megumi’s looking at you with riddled curiosity, you’re sure it’s because he’s never seen you actually cry before but you can’t find it in you to not put your pride aside. And when that layer of chain mail is finally cracked in half, Gojo’s there to shield you. In a split second, he’s bringing you into a gravity-defying hug while you sob into his chest, all while the jut of his chin lays on top of your mass of curls. A bubble of his piney, masculine scent envelopes you all while you taste the salty tears that fall on your lips as you gargle out apologies.

“I’m sorry, th- that- I couldn’t do anything,” you hiccup.

“It’s not your fault,” he reassures you and he says it with so much intensity that at least a billion of your nerves transmit the message of truth to your brain.

“No one could’ve known.. for fucks sake, I didn’t even know.” Gojo reminisces, not for the fact that Getou had become a wanted sorcerer but because of that, you had to face the brute consequences.

But to you, His hushed words are a slap to the face because...

Gojo must be hurting too.

Getou was his best friend, his partner through life and death situations but here you were babbling like a baby.

As soon as your body tenses up and your joints spring to pull your head off his chest, Gojo pulls you even closer, almost as if he can read your thoughts.

So, the only thing you can hope for is that while both of you embrace, Gojo’s getting enough comfort to tend to his aching wounds.

"They terminated your contract, eh? You want me to kill them for ya?" Your response is a hearty chuckle, one that stops as soon as it starts because he's serious. And you can tell. Your body itches in the worst possible way as his killing intent leaks out from his crackling hearth. As detected, Megumi grumbles and shifts his feet as he pulls on your skirt.

"Don't be stupid," you whisper as you pull away from his chest and face Megumi to grab his small hand. "Let's go home and see your sister, okay?"

back to m.list

#gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo angst #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjkmag

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impaladolan · 4 years ago

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Capture - Grayson Dolan [8/-]

summary: y/n is quick to plot revenge.. but does she get away with it..?

warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, and smut :)

a/n: i seriously love you

Anonymous said:

Ooohoohohoh I’m excited for her to steal his Rolex haha omg maybe she wears it and doesn’t give him it back when he asks for it OMG u know what would be cute!! if one day she goes snooping in his bedroom and tries on his chain necklace n rings and he walks out the shower n he’s like ummmm ok ily

Anonymous said:

i want y/n to ride gray’s thigh in his office, like he’s just got in still fully in his suite w his gun on his belt and she just walks in and strips 👀👀

Anonymous said:

I have an idea hehe!! WhYi f y/n gets drunk like she f inds alcohol in graysons office or kitchen or something and shes being really bratty but it’s so cute and she’s giving him nose kissies and hugging up and telling him stuff and he’s just listening and loving her

Relaxation.

That's how you'd explain the certain state of euphoria I'm embezzled within. Young love is a treacherous trap that can either end in favor, or be torn to shreds in only mere moments. To feel so passionate and fervently invested in someone you've only ever known and loved is such a thrill, and you could never forget those memories embedded in your mind.

Like right now, laying in bed while the sun's first shine leaks through the window and gleams down upon the two of us, nuzzled under the covers. His leg was wrapped over mine and his arms hung loosely around my hips, sheltering me from ever possibly leaving his grasp. I was the first to wake, but I dared not to move an inch.

The world around me was motionless, so peaceful and calm. Nothing could bother or disrupt the atmosphere around me. Everything felt so perfect, embraced by the one I love and the man I admire. Nothing, and I mean nothing, could ever unsettle me in this moment.

At least, that's what I keep telling myself...

A darkness warped over my newly sunken eyes, shielding the world around me. I called out his name, but nothing came out. The warmth I once felt upon my body, vanished into the air and seemed like it'd never return. The world became cold and useless, all the positivity and tranquility that once surrounded me was blown away and now, I sit in darkness;

All by myself.

Him.

It seemed too early in the morning to be awake at such an hour, but you had crashed shortly after making it back to your room last night. You were so mortified and embarrassed, for all those men to see you so vulnerable and being punished. Though, the crazy inside you kind of liked it, but still, it pushed boundaries.

Initially, you had wanted to sleep in all day, and hopefully never leave your room ever again. Although, today's forecast decided otherwise. A ground shaking rumble of thunder made you awaken and the shoestring lighting bolts strung across the darkened sky had drawn you in. Since you essentially have no concept of time, whatsoever, you had to believe it was early in the morning, unless you really had slept in all day...

It's been presumably an hour or so since you first fluttered your eyes open. By now, you had plotted a sickening revenge to his outrageous acts he had committed only a day ago. Of course, you had created horribly ill plans that even you could never pull off. Such as vandalizing his expensive vehicles or even trashing the entire house. You had even gone as far as to planning an "accidental" fire in the kitchen.

But something inside you had put a halt to those thoughts.

Other than not wanting to be known as a malicious arsonist, you had some sort of pull towards him— but what that pull was, you couldn't figure out. The phrase; " Darling, I may be a stranger to you, but you're no stranger to me," has been left in your mind ever since the words first left his mouth. You couldn't possibly help but wonder what that even meant. You felt like you've known him from a past life somehow, and that could potentially explain the affection you have towards him. All of that aside, you have to remember that he isn't who your brain morphs him in to be. He's a felon who's abducted you and has pulled you away from society and everything you've ever been a part of.

For some reason, that's hard for you to mentally consider.

Aside from criminalizing yourself too by creating a fire or becoming a vandalizer, the best option is to state your assertiveness and trespass the "laws" that he has forbidden you ro break. Unlike yesterday's escapades of you ruining the dining room table, today you were up for higher anticipated endeavours. You had it all planned out and you knew what you'd do in order to complete your vengeances.

And he's not going to be very happy...

The atmosphere above and around you still rumbles with the loud, crackling thunder and the strikes of lightning flooding certain increments of light through the surrounding windows pave your path to the daunting door. You were still dressed in the white shirt that could barely pass as acceptable in the public eye, and your feet were frozen at the first touch of the wooden floor. You kept on like you have done in the previous times you have left your room for mischievous reasons. You silently open the door, leaving it wide open as you crept out of your assigned room and into the hallway. You knew that the very first place you would go would be the kitchen. No, you aren't creating a fire or any of the sort, but you were going to raid the fridge and have your fill with what it has to offer.

You walk straight past the opening and right into the glorious establishment of cookware, like it was your very own home and you were just up for a midnight snack. In all honesty, you could get used to living here.

If only it weren't forced onto you, that is.

Your fingertips soon collide with the long, frigid handle of the refrigerator door and pull it wide open, marveling at the large display of different beverages and foods strategically set up. Of course, it was mainly veggies and several healthy-looking meal options. Which didn't surprise you whatsoever.

He has a nice physique for a reason...

You couldn't find anything that made your stomach growl with hunger, until you opened up the freezer drawer and spotted a nice looking ice cream container. Still, it looked healthy and it'd make you all the more frozen, but it would manage to subside your aching sweet tooth for now. You pop open the lid and fish around the drawers for a utensil. With a content sigh, you plunge a huge spoonful of the solid liquid and empty it into your mouth, savoring every last flavor like it would be the last time you'd ever eat the sugary treat again. It was delicious, the absolute best ice cream you've ever devoured in the entirety of your life.

You almost ate half the jar until you decided you were parched and needed a nice drink to soothe your throat. Luckily this time you were familiar with where the glasses were kept and already had your hand wrapped around a large wine glass that was a little bit higher up than the rest of the glassware. You set it down quietly, trailing your eyes upon the clean and prim counter.

A tall, fancy upscale bottle of what looked to be whiskey was settled in the corner, nicely organized with the other alcoholic beverages that were of the same importance.

Now, you weren't exactly a "drink-whiskey-out-of-a-wine-glass" type of gal, but as they say; desperate times call for desperate measures— and you were on the search of something to loosen you up a bit, and that was that.

You brought the glass over to where you had stationed your cup, not even flinching when you uncork the liquor and pour its contents out. With improper proportioning of the said liquid, you put the whiskey back how it was.

"Fuck, here we go." You inaudibly groan to yourself, just knowing that you'll regret every decision you've made in the near future. Raising up the plum-full glass, you tip it back into your mouth and down a whole gulp.

Nasty.

It's definitely an acquired taste, but the barely detectable taste of vanilla made it hardly feasible. You dared to not put the glass down until you were finished with it and had that sour taste submitted through your fiery throat.

The least you could say was that it's pretty smooth, but not something you'd drink in your free time.

In your head, you knew you'd feel a bit wonky, considering your nearly empty stomach and your abstinence from alcohol for the last month or so. It'd be easy to feel the side effects and overall feel much better, like you were aiming for.

Once you drained the glass of every last drop, you held your breath and rushed to the sink. The overwhelming want to just regurgitate what you ingested had drawn upon you, but you refrained from doing so. Waiting out the sickly feeling, you run a bit of cold water over your hand and press it against your forehead for a moment. Everything became hot, even with the freezing temperatures, you felt like breaking a sweat.

All just the side effects of alcohol, I'm sure.

Within the passing minutes, the faintness flew away and the sounds of the thunderstorm filled your ears. A large banging of the clouds above frightened you and you knocked over the glass you had just rested your lips on.

You didn't even feel bad about all the shattered pieces on the floor, it actually brought a smile to your face and you were ready to begin the fully planned extravaganza.

First stop; his room.

You skipped back the hallway, still quiet but not as careful as before. You weren't afraid of any consequences and whatever he was going to do to you wouldn't be too harsh. It's not like he's embarrassed you enough already anyway.

You easily find his door, pushing the handle down as slow as possible, just in case he was asleep in his room. His door didn't creak as you opened it, and nor did his floorboards as you walked straight into his marvelous bedroom. It was extravagant, but yet it still felt homely. You check the bed, no sign of him or anyone for the matter. He probably at a meeting, or something.

Not that you care..

You continue your stroll, glancing around his room for anything that could spark your immediate attention, considerably his desk. It held a lot of his more—fashionably inclined belongings. Such as his masculine jewelry and expensive watches. There was even a small, purple ring that reminded you of something you had worn a long time ago. You brush that off, it brings up sore wounds from a time where you were a lot happier and everything was simpler.

I wish I could say that now..

You began to pick up the neatly placed objects, slipping a couple of heavy necklaces around your neck and the large rings upon your fingers. You laugh at the size difference of your hand and how they barely stay on your fingers.

The stationary mirror attached to the desk caught your eyes, and you begin to make funny faces at it. Which sends you into a hushed giggle fest that makes you double over in your seat. Still caught up in your laughter, you take off all of the rings, just leaving a couple on the desk and tossing a few over to his bed. You do the same with the necklaces, except for the two that you threw into one of the drawers.

That’s when your eyes caught the nice watches, stuffed in clear pouches with the brand labeled across them. Rolex is the first you saw, and the first one you picked up. You weren’t thinking clearly. Hence the reason you tore it out of it’s protective packaging and brought it up above your head, throwing it down to the ground and watching the tiny glass fragments splatter everywhere.

It’s not like he can’t buy a new one, right?

Feeling content and a little less frustrated, you left the messy scene and followed your footsteps back into the hallway. He didn't seem to hear you, so the determination to find out his name came across your mind and you became dead set on finding it, so you basically sprinted into his ominous office and delved into his comfy chair without care.

Your motor skills were altered and it seemed to take for ever to lift yourself out of the chair and tap on the computer keyboard for it to wake up. While it began its process of turning on, you led your hand down to the drawers and pulled at them. And that’s when you found the very first locked up thing in this house.

“Care to tell me what you’re doing in here darling?” His alluring voice blasted through your ears and made you leap upward. “It’s not been a day and you’re already back to being a brat?” You couldn’t see what he looked like, but his silhouette looked suited and enticing.

Very enticing, actually...

“M’trying to find out your name, Daddy.” You spoke before you could think, crossing your arms over your chest while your lips form a pout. His body leaves from the doorway, and you’re barely able to see him as he strides over towards you. Suddenly, a light flips on and you’re met with his beautiful frame, a smile daunting his face as he looks down at your innocence.

“You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” He moves closer, wrapping his hand under your chin while his other has his blazer hung on his finger and thrown towards his back. He looks cute in a smile, until it forms into a confused frown.

“Have you been drinking, Y/N?” Your eyes widen and you quickly nod. You knew you’d be in trouble with him anyway, so might as well be honest now. “I c-couldn’t sleep and I- I just wanted a sip of somethin’.” You shrug, looking downward as you give him an okayish explanation.

“You know what helps me sleep?” He lets your chin go, dropping his jacket and beginning to roll up his dress-shirt’s sleeves. You shake your head, chewing your bottom lip as you take in his appearance. “A nice cocksucking does.” Thunder crackles loudly outside as his husky voice deepens and makes a cool wind run down your spine.

“Then let me help you..” You wrap your arms around his neck, twisting him around and forcefully pushing him down in the chair you were once sitting in. You were about to fall to your knees to “help” him, but he pulls your hips towards him and sets you on his lap. You replace your hands around his neck, sinking your fingertips into his hair and massaging the silky softness of it. He sweetly sighs, readjusting the leg you were sat upon.

And that’s when you feel the sensation you’ve been craving for however long you’ve been here.. you think..

“M’hm, do that again..” You ask, your voice barely above a whisper. He actually obliges, his brows furrowed as he watches your face contort. “Like riding my thigh, huh?” He asks as he placed his large hands around your waist. You nod, moving your hips in the same direction. You eyes shut, your head falling back a little as you smoothly move against his muscled thigh.

It felt so good, everything felt so good actually. He somehow looked so much more attractive, the beard dotting his face and his hair styled nicely. Even what he was wearing had you wanting more.

You open your eyes for a moment, watching his pleased expression as he watches you needingly thrust yourself upon his warm, clothed thigh. He even steadily lifted his knee in the correct places, aiding in the pleasure that him alone could bring you. Your eyesight seemed foggy but visible enough to see the gun at his waist side, and you almost froze when you saw it. Even in your intoxicated state of mind, you knew that just the weapon could possibly help you escape and make it back to your own home.

You didn't think it through thoroughly..

You lean in, your lips next to his ear as you practically collapse upon him, though your movements to further yourself towards releasing didn't halt. You slipped your left hand down to his waist band, sensually gliding it over his tented groin. He shutters under your touch, clearing his throat as his heads falls back slightly. As quick as your body would let you, you grab for the handle of the gun and raise it up towards his forehead, stopping all your movements and gaining his attention.

"Y/N—" He starts, gliding his hands up your bare thighs.

"Don't fucking move, or I'll— I'll shoot you." You sounded clear as day in your head, but your words became slurred as they left your mouth, and he smirked at your innocence. Just as quickly as you pulled the gun, he took it away.

He grabbed the barrel and snatched it from your grip, placing it back into its holster at his side. You yelp as he grabs your wrists, twisting them around your back and slamming you into the table with an evil chuckle. "Better keep those hands pretty little hands to yourself, princess. You're too innocent to commit murder anyway." He continues his hoarse chuckles, licking a stripe up his hand before striking your slick pussy. "D-Ahh!" You hiccup, pressing your legs as close together as you can.

“Better fuckin’ pray that you can walk tomorrow, darling...”

to be continued...

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flutteragency · 2 years ago

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#flutter-agency #flutter-agency-usa #flutter-app-development #flutter-development-company #flutter-development-company-usa #flutter-leak-prevention #flutter-memory-leak-detection #hire-dedicated-flutter-resource #hire-flutter-developer #hire-flutter-developers #hire-flutter-developers-usa #hire-flutter-development-team #hire-flutter-experts #memory-leak-in-flutter

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feralrosie · 4 years ago

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Fairy Lights

Hewwo @damagecontroldumortain happy (late) valentine’s day! I’m sorry it took so long, but here’s your @loveinwayhaven gift ♥ hope you like it!

The Wayhaven Chronicles Adam/Janey (F!Detective) Words: 2600 Rating: G Tags: Fluff, lots of fluff; Valentine’s day Read on AO3

On second thought, maybe she was the one delivering spring to that place.

It took them a little over one hour to arrive at the botanical garden just outside Wayhaven, although Detective Kingston insisted that they could have done it in less time, if it was not for Adam’s careful driving. Of course, he was very confident in his own skills, but it was the reckless attitudes of humans on the road that could endanger this trip—mission. That could endanger this mission.

“You know that I’m going to drive on the way back, right?” Janey joked as soon as they parked by the gates of the garden, where vines intertwined along the fences, chipping the white paint to expose the coppery colour of the metal underneath.

“I am far more qualified to drive. I have better reflexes, sight and training.” His tone was as stiff as his muscles, button-down shirt marking every line of his chest as he turned off the Agency’s SUV. “And besides, a vehicle this size is too big for you. You wouldn’t reach the pedals.”

“How dare—”

“Let’s get going.” A hint of a smile formed on his lips as he pushed his aviators up the curve of his nose and got out of the car. Was fast enough to walk around it and open the door for the woman, offering a hand for support as she jumped out of it. “Mind your step,” he mumbled, but her attention was already focused on the garden ahead.

Despite the ancient appearance of its entrance, the place itself was impeccable. A path of cobblestone, with no signs of moss, guided the guests among thousands of trees, contouring an icy lake in the middle of the park. The woods, dark and imposing, also had trails of its own, winding through in irregular shapes. In a bright late afternoon such as this one, the scene was idyllic. The sun leaked through the canopies, trying to deliver life to the garden, but meeting the silent landscape of dormant bushes and leafless trunks covered in glittering snow instead. Only the pine trees tried their best to add some colour with strokes of dark green reaching the clear blue sky.

Must have been a gift for the garden to welcome the deep red of Janey’s hair among them. Adam noticed, as she led the way in front of him, how contrasting she was to the scenery, bursting with life and colour. Even the soft breeze that danced around them and waved her locks seemed to agree that whatever beauty nature had was no match for her.

“Alright,” Janey clapped her hands while turning on her heels to face the Agent, pulling him back from his thoughts in a startle. “What are we looking for, exactly? What do we need for this mission?”

Ah, yes, the mission. It was more like a simple task, really. Recently, a lesser kingdom of fairies took residence in Wayhaven, attracted by the Detective’s powerful presence, but even a small town like that could overwhelm such tiny creatures, and so the Agency needed to find another place for them.

“The Firefly Fairies will need a place safe from humans,” Adam stated, wrapping his coat around his torso and crossing his arms. “But it must also be a place safe from this weather. Perhaps somewhere distant from the pathway.”

She agreed with a simple nod, and in no time they were walking side by side into the woods. If it was just her body heat or something else, Adam could not tell, but the cold was not so harsh next to her. Maybe this was the reason for the fairy kingdom being drawn to her in the first place; she felt comfortable and welcoming to everyone with her charm and friendly personality. It was impossible to not let yourself be engulfed by someone like her, and Adam wasn’t the only one who felt like that… Right?

“I must apologise, Detective.” He broke the silence between them after a few minutes, not because it made him uneasy, but quite the opposite. Janey aimed a puzzled look at him, waiting for him to proceed. “Surely I impeded other plans you must have had for today.”

“What do you mean?”

“It is Valentine’s Day, is it not?” The words almost got stuck in the back of his throat, suddenly dry. “I believe many consider this to be a special date.”

“Oh.” The sound escaped from her lips, and Adam couldn’t help but to look at her for just a moment. Her heart was beating a little faster, which explained the rosy colour forming on her cheeks—delicate and unexpected, but not slightly fragile. “Don’t worry, I didn’t have any plans.”

“Hard to believe—”

“And even if I had,” she bursted, shoving her hands inside the pockets of her jacket. Their gaze met for such a brief moment that he thought he imagined it when those light brown eyes faced the path ahead once more. “I would rather spend the afternoon with you, anyway.”

He came to a halt, as if the words had taken him off balance. The idea of inviting her to spend a couple hours with him, not for a mission but for leisure, was not new, and crossed his mind multiple times (it was, what, the third time that week?), but the implications that Janey might actually have accepted if he asked sent a wave of electricity down this chest. Could it be that she also noticed the date on the calendar and agreed to come along in this foolish mission because of him?

True that her presence was everything Adam had in mind when preparing for it. He was hoping that she would accompany him to this botanical garden, under the excuse that she, as a Wayhaven citizen, had been there before and could guide them better. But he was an agent and had a job to do. No matter how much she instilled wonderful and alarming new sensations in him, he should focus on the task ahead.

“How about this place?” Janey was a few meters away, and Adam didn’t have to force his feet to reach her. She was pointing at a lonely oak tree, large enough to accommodate a house for humans. A kingdom of fairies would fit there just as well, except…

“This tree is in a clearing,” he said, resting his hands on his hips and taking a look around the place. “They would prefer a denser area, with more flowers.”

“What about that one?”

Adam’s gaze followed where she was pointing, taking its time to also notice that she was not wearing any gloves. Felt an urge to hold her hands, take them closer to his lips and blow gently a warm breath to provide her just a glimpse of the comfort she brought him.

“Adam?” He might have taken too long admiring her fingers, and when Janey called again, the icy green eyes finally landed on their next destination.

A greenhouse on the other side of the park.

“Worth assessing the place. Lead the way.”

Janey’s subtle frown, followed by an amused smile also did not pass unnoticed. Adam knew she was studying him, from the way he talked to how close he was to her—that’s how Janey was, always attentive to people, always curious—and should probably have figured out he was acting different. His mind was not where it should be, and it was showing.

So much so that Adam couldn’t even describe the landscape on their way to the greenhouse. As they crossed the garden, only the sound of Janey’s voice asking questions about the fairies would take shape in his memory. Her voice, and the feeling of their elbows touching here and there occasionally, fluttering the rhythm of their breaths.

The last rays of sunlight had sunken down behind the trees by the time they arrived at the greenhouse. The place was enormous, made entirely of glass and decorated with an iron structure painted in white in art nouveau style. The rounded edges and curvaceous geometry felt organic, as if the building was a living part of the garden, housing an astonishing amount of plants like a nursery. Adam had to take off his aviators to take a proper look at the explosion of colours and shapes of every single bloom, realising in a second that Janey didn’t have the same advantage.

“Well, it’s dark here.” She pointed out, pursing her lips while looking up as if to check for the lightbulbs. “Weird that there’s no one here. I was expecting some couples, or at least the scientists that work here.”

I’m glad there is no one else here, Adam wished to say, but instead he followed the obvious, most logical response, “It is already late to be so far away from the city. Everyone must have left a few hours ago.”

He searched for the switch, a small thing hidden behind a bush by the front doors, and turned the lights on. Expected to see the usual fluorescent white from the Facility, but watched as hundreds of tiny yellowish spots popped to life all around them, bathing the greenhouse in warmth. Strings of fairy lights followed a design like the canvas of a tent from the external walls to the central piece: a weeping willow tree, so tall that its canopy filled the space of one of the three glass domes on the roof.

Upon reaching the tree, the lights seemed to transform into vines, embracing the branches and falling along the dangling leaves like a waterfall. There was no magic in the entire botanical garden, but the look in Janey’s eyes as she admired the images around said otherwise, as if Adam had just brought her spring itself as a gift. He might just have, if such a thing was possible.

“Will this be enough for them?” Janey asked, voice low and smooth, lost in the glittering lights.

“For whom?” Adam returned, lost in the shine of her eyes.

“The fairies, of course.” And she giggled while approaching him, suddenly locking her gaze on his. “What else do they need?”

“Well, they have enough water and flowers here,” his feet moved by an unconscious desire, “There is shelter from the external weather and…” he swallowed hard, unsure if he should continue but, eventually, he did, "A lot of space for partying."

“Partying?”

“They are known for hosting week-long dances. Love to drink and to waltz.”

“I never really learned how to waltz.” Janey’s voice was only a whisper, eyes drifting away from Adam’s and reflecting the hundreds of lights around. He, however, was not paying attention to anything else but her and the way her lips curled up, almost in slow motion, overflowing with warmth. On second thought, maybe she was the one delivering spring to that place. “Must be wonderful to see.”

“Truly beautiful.” Not even Adam could conceal what he meant. He had no interest in the practices and lifestyle of fairies or of any other creature, and despite being an admirer of arts, it was clear that something else was marvelling him. Someone else. His breath of confession drew her back to him, and disarmed by hypnosis, he bursted, “Would you like to try?”

“What?” She took another step closer, graceful as a ballerina.

“Waltz.” Words seemed to tangle on each other before leaving his lips. “With me.”

From the moment he suggested going on that mission, Adam had done nothing but improvise. All the control he kept for over nine hundred years was slipping through his fingers, he could not think strategically anymore, and it was infuriating how he could not—simply could not—keep himself away from the detective. She was a fire burning inside of him and he should be turning to ashes by now. And yet there he was, surrounded by light and that warmth that was not coming just from her body heat.

He waited for an answer, pursing his lips in a thin line, questioning his careless attitudes, feeling like his chest was about to set alight, and—

“Yes. I would love to.”

A sigh of relief came from both parts, tension crumbling like a sand castle. If Adam was going to be that reckless, then so be it.

He ventured forth, right hand falling featherlight on Janey’s waist. She held his other hand, resting her palm on his and falling into his arms completely. Not once they took their gazes out of each other, eyes heavy-lidded when Adam began to lead them in circles carefully, slowly, like she was made of crystal. Terrified of breaking her.

It was nothing close to the waltz of the royal palaces of Vienna during the New Years, and much less to the Russian ballet, but still nothing felt wrong. Janey was tiny compared to him, his large hand spread almost entirely over her upper back, but it was her delicate fingers pressing into his shoulder that made him feel safe. The way she would not shy away from him, how she would spin on her axis every time he stretched out his arms just to pull her back closer and closer, was like magic of its own. Perhaps he was enchanted. She could have bewitched him. Or maybe, just maybe, it was something else. Something he was afraid of saying out loud, of letting it take form, but undeniably something he could not, would not, control.

Their feet moved together with remarkable precision, as if the spring of the greenhouse itself choreographed their movements, and even the floor felt softer. Janey slipped her fingers up to his neck, brushing his skin and leaving a tingling sensation before resting on his nape. A shiver ran up his spine, sharp enough for her to feel the dark blond hairs rising.

Their dance concluded slowly when Adam bowed down, holding her firmly in his arms as if laying her gently on a mattress of clouds. Janey held on to him, trusting him entirely, and didn’t let go afterwards. With no one to witness, their world felt silent, existing only in each other’s embrace. Adam saw when her lips parted just enough, hesitant, getting closer, increasing the thundering sound, trying to tear open her chest like a war drum so powerful that it could make him dizzy.

“Do you hear my heartbeat?” she whispered, eyes locked on his.

“Yes.”

“Can I listen to yours, too?”

“Yes...”

Janey wrapped both arms around his neck and rested her head on his chest, nose tip carefully fondling his sternum. Only then, with her cheek pressed against his white shirt, Adam realised that the drumming of hearts was a duet. His own perfectly synchronised to hers, still dancing, and he couldn’t help but to wrap his arms around her as well. In a garden of blooms, they formed a bud—secret, beautiful and new. He wished to stay in spring, with her, forever.

Alas, they were both ripped apart from dreaming when a too-loud bzzt bzzt emerged from the agent’s pocket. Distracted by each other, both rushed to untangle themselves quicker than their blood could colour their faces. Adam turned on his heels, reaching for the damn phone and answering the call.

“Commanding Agent du Mortain.”

“Adam, it's Nate. I’ve been trying to call for a while, is everything ok?”

A deep sigh left his lungs, “Yes, Nate. Everything is fine.”

“Are you still with Janey? Did you find a good place?”

He looked over his shoulder, gaze meeting Janey’s again. A shy grin on her rosy cheeks invited him to smile too, and so he did.

“Yes, Nate. I believe we found the perfect place.”

#the wayhaven chronicles #adam du mortain #janey kingston #love in wayhaven #my writing #valentine's day #gift exchange #i must say i love Janey #I hope she's not too ooc #had a lot of fun writing it #💖💖

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sleepdeprivedheretic · 4 years ago

Text

Fated Year

Notes: Here’s a New Year fic! I can’t believe I started writing about this character since July? August? I noticed that I’ve gotten somewhat better at my skills, and I’ve made such Wonderful, Lovely Friends and Followers through these tough times, and I can’t ever be so grateful enough.

Without further ado, here’s a fic for the New Year

Rating: E

Setting: ABO with my own twists, and Biker! Tai (bc a fellow simp suggested it and I’m hooked)

………

One of the major things that did not change throughout centuries, was the slim promise of a Fated Mate. Contrary to belief, dynamics didn’t really play a roll on fate’s cupid, no, fate itself did. it was just a roll of dice, a stroke of luck, the clouds sifting underneath the moon’s soft glare, shedding light upon the traveler’s path.

Lupine blood is adaptable, but those stuck in their old, “traditional” ways, had seemed to forget that. It is not always an alpha paired with an omega, or an alpha being head of the home, or betas lacking any scents or personality, or, the one stereotype that you’ve hated the most, omegas needing a knot to sate their so-called “eccentric” heats.

At worst, heats made the skin flare, areas aching, and one use a lot of energy in satisfying those areas. It wasn’t the incoherent, scrambling to find just about anybody. No, you were very coherent, and wary of your surroundings, anxiety crawling up at you if you didn’t feel safe, refusing any advances.

Sometimes, home didn’t feel right if the neighborhood was seedy, and walls thin enough for impotent scents to leak out through the cracks.

However, you weren’t at home, right now. You were in the emergency room at your local hospital.

It started out innocently enough as a day. You, wanting a break from tending the small greenhouse in your secluded backyard, decided to take a stroll around the bustling city, handing out small business cards that had your shop’s logo printed neatly with your signature and info. Smiling, greeting, and nodding whilst handing out the pink, flowery cards, you were unaware of what was yet to come.

Oranges, faint vanilla, and the soft bite of earthy sandalwood, had hit your senses out of nowhere. In the middle of a bustling town, it was hard to detect who and where the mouthwatering smell was from emitting from, yet it was of no use, for it was about a day old. To your utter shock, your lower area began to clench and ache, leaking out slick. You stilled, eyes widened with fear as you heard worried mumbling around you, and then, when your knees buckled, a shout for the ambulance.

This couldn’t be real, or even happening, you kept thinking, the crowds of people stopping to only stare. Did your heat overpower the blockers? You asked yourself, luckily for you, a police officer had yelled out for them to keep moving and to mind their business, she and others formed a circle around you, as a few helpful betas released their calming pheromones, near you. You weakly murmured out your gratitude as your shoulder muscles relaxed, only slightly, as your senses heightened, the ache worsened, and you had found yourself clutching your abdomen, kneeling on the ground, you were sure that you were about to die of shame. You’ve always took your scent blockers, suppressants, and had never went into heat at a public place, knowing that each cycle was calculated, and they had only happened twice a year. This year was beginning to end, soon, and you’ve already went through your heats alone and cooped up in your closet.

The only explanation that had crossed into your mind, made you still in more shock, as you heard the ambulance siren began to cry out into the distance, driving near you.

………………

He was frantic, like a dog on the trail of the scent that had hit him twice as hard than any greaser could, three weeks ago. At first, he laughed it off with his buddies as he sipped on some sake, just recently gotten out of his rut. Granted, it wasn’t a large one like that of an alpha’s, but it was as worse than his usual ruts, and it kind of freaked him out, a little.

Being that of a dominant beta, he figured that he was just as fine the way he is, although a known biker who had beaten up thugs, he had manners, and a stable job and income. He not only had the strength and build to stand up to most alphas, but the calming scent to lessen the shoulders of a friend or family member. If one didn’t know any better, they’d say that he was an alpha. He was tall, round yet muscular, and at first glance, gave off the “bad boy” attitude.

Oh no, his personality couldn’t be more polar opposite, however. He had a soft heart, and had to reject a lot of admirers, because through and through, he was bit of a secret romantic. Well, he tried to keep it secret, but “Sorry, waitin’ for my mate”, and not ever really having anybody, really spoke volumes. He knew that it was nearly impossible for a soulmate to fall into his lap, but he hoped, he really did.

Fated mates were rare, and rarely happened between a beta and any other dynamic. Especially with omegas. He didn’t believe it, at first, but then again, beta ruts happened at least once a year, rarely more, and scents didn’t trigger them, at all, until now. His friends had gleefully explained this right after he crawled out of the damned house in a post-rut haze, asking anybody and everybody on what the hell had just happened. His shock didn’t waver, even after the proud cackling and congratulations from his friends from him learning the news, was only a week prior ago.

Although his memory was a little vague, he remembered the sweetness of the omega’s scent. Strawberries, cream, and a hint of honey. It was a classic combination of smells, and he couldn’t believe that it sent a jolt of electricity through his being, him itching to just take a bite. When he had understood that he was basically married by fate, he had taken some time for himself to think through his disbelief, excitement, fear, worry, and joy.

Although he loved his bike, and hanging out with his fellow motorcycle buddies and work colleagues, he knew that he had wanted to settle down, as well, and just hope that the person liked him and his lifestyle. Especially, hopefully, if the person was as sweet as their scent is, and of course the rarity of fate throwing him in what he had been craving for. Of course, he wholeheartedly accept no for an answer, if his intended rejected him, and little small insecurities had been preparing for that, but, he was wanting to try, and he didn’t mind taking that leap.

So, he revved up the engine of his motorcycle, and scoured the area in where that scent was. Two days, he had been trailing the scent, hoping to find it. Did the other person went into heat right after he did? There were no news or calls on the radio at the local police station, about it. He had began doubting himself, wondering if he was just a weak beta, having a scent bother him, and it wasn’t fate at all.

Through his internal struggle while slowly rolling through the streets, his body automatically froze, as he all but stomped on the brake pedal. That. It. The scent. It didn’t affect him, too badly, but he knew that his body temperature had risen up, and he was on the prowl. Heat. Their heat had just recently hit. It must have been because his own pheromones had still lingered from the day before, and now his little omega unfortunately had to deal with another heat this year.

He wasn’t stupid, he knew that two heats in a year were the natural limit, and thus this year ending, meant that this might be the poor dear’s third one. His instincts sang out to nurture and comfort, but he didn’t know who and where, and asking somebody might label him as a creep, if he didn’t feel like one, already. He pinched his nose, huffing slightly as he looked absentmindedly onto the ground. A flash of pink flying by as the wind had picked up, caught his attention. Cards, and a small group of them had fluttered within the wind, scattering throughout the street. He gingerly stepped onto one, refusing it to flutter away as he picked it up, freezing for a millisecond as he had noticed that the scent lingered there the strongest. Curiously, he rushed to catch another card, to see if it had a different scent.

Joy overcame him as he had noticed that these were the person’s cards. His person’s card, and with information on them.

……………..

You were always coherent during your heats, whilst hurting, lustful, and writhing, but you knew where you were, the times to eat and to drink water, small breaks, and so on. However, a facility wasn’t your home. It wasn’t familiar, too bright, and had sent you almost panicking, if it weren’t for the powerful, soothing scents of the friendly beta doctors. Your skin was heated, but the sweat had instantly felt like ice as the cool room had touched it.

You were in the emergency room, a blanket was placed upon you by a sympathetic nurse. Softly telling your thanks, you awaited for the doctor, wanting to be discharged and just to wrap yourself into the familiarity of your nest, wishing that the particular scent that comforted you, yet drove your hormones wild, was there.

It was a beta’s scent, you knew. Not too flowery or sweet of an omegas, nor rustic, loud, and too dominant of an alphas. It was in the middle, perfect and soothing, and you felt yourself relax a little by the memory of it. Multiple times, your phone had rang from numbers in which you did not know. You chewed your lip. You managed to grab your handbag, but not the cards, in which had scattered everywhere after your fall. Feeling stressed, you didn’t answer any of them, except the more frantic callers, such as your friends and family.

Another unknown number rang. Admittedly, you were tired, and wanted to chuck the thing against the wall, but you were a little curious, this time. Most of the ringers had stopped, minutes ago. Taking your phone, you pressed the green button as you held it to your ear.

“Hello?” You asked first.

“Hey there, Strawberry. Do ya believe in Fated Mates?” Even through the static of the phone, the person, the man had a rough, yet warm, honeyed voice.

“Who is this?” You asked, surprised. Was this a joke from the other person? Where they trying to lure you or set you up? Of course your scent had probably reached about everyone, so it didn’t surprise you that he knew of it.

“Orange, vanilla, and maybe sandalwood, ring a bell?” Answered your inward thoughts, and you couldn’t help but stiffen with surprise.

“How did you know? Who is this?” You pressed for answers, and the stranger delivered.

“Name’s Taishiro Toyomitsu.‘M a beta, so you could imagine my surprise when a scent, of all things, hit me like a freight train, causing me to go into my second rut. Strawberries, cream, and honey, right?” He soothed, letting the information sink into you. It was very plausible and possible. You didn’t tell anybody of the incident, or the details. You believed him, strangely enough.

“Alright.” You decided to cut to the chase in your answer, as your heart had pounded lively within your chest. It was quiet for a second.

“Alright?” Hope was obvious in his tone of voice, and you hummed. It wouldn’t hurt, you were sure in which scent had made you go almost feral, and if the man didn’t smell like it, he could leave. If he did, then probably with you, your heat addled inward thoughts chimed in. It didn’t take you long to tell him which hospital that you were in.

“Ah, the hospital, Babe? Hold on, I’ll rev up my engine, an’ we’ll get to talkin’, alright?” He cooed rather gently, and you found yourself nodding, but told him your agreement, nonetheless.

Just as you hung up, the elderly doctor strolled in, smiling politely, yet apologetically. Lavender and chamomile flooded softly throughout the room, soothing your cramped muscles and calmed down your heavy breathing.

“Hello, many people call me Recovery Lady, but you may call me Chiyo-san! So I’ve heard that this is your third heat, this year? Fated mates are such a lovely thing to see, it being more rare than winning the lottery. Do you mind answering some questions?” She rambled on in the sweet grandmotherly voice, and you couldn’t help but agree, finding yourself climbing down from the panic and stress ever so slowly as you wrapped the blanket tighter around you.

It didn’t take long, you basically asking for her to let in a man with the specified scent, and she agreed.

“Since you’re not in the deeper stages of your heat, being dizzy and tired and weak, you may be discharged, today. Good luck with bonding with your soulmate~!” She chirped as she handed you some papers to sign, and so you did. Of course, being in a more vulnerable state, you had to wait until the mysterious stranger of yours took you home.

You’ve given yourself time to think upon basically being married, and it didn’t take you too long to not minding it. It was a leap, a rush, a blindfold into the unknown, and yet, you’ve been waiting for this moment. Like most omegas, you wanted to break the stereotype and have a job, a home, and to marry later in life. It was just your preference, and what better way, than to let the stars align somebody for you? Although Chiyo’s scent lingered, you calmed your own self down, by thinking of another, particular scent.

As if a miracle, a soft, yet subtle knock landed on the other side of the door, tore you away from your thoughts. Although a bit nervous, your instincts were oddly more calm, softly singing at you that this was meant to be, and you found yourself more eager, than anything.

You told him to come in.

The door couldn’t have opened more slowly enough, even if it was basically pushed open with a force of hurried eagerness. You stared at the person equally taking you in, as time seemed to freeze to a screeching halt as sweet oranges and earthy sandalwood spilled into the room along with him.

Despite the scent that you’ve craved so dearly was a bit calm, his appearance was a little wild. His too tight of a white tee stained with a bit of motor-oil, contrasted against coal-colored leather jacket and thick, sturdy gloves and ankle-high boots, indicating that he was probably a mechanic, or at least somebody who knew how to read and ride the streets, well. He was large, tall, round, and yet carried a scent that contrasted his appearance. Sharp amber irises stared at you unabashedly as you drank more of him in.

Metallic goggles held up soft yet wild, wind-ridden yellow hair as he thumbed nervously at the chain that was linked to the hem of the pocket of sharp blue jeans.

“Ah, hello, Taishiro.” You greeted a bit too stiffly for your liking, but nervousness was leaking into your scent, and the both of you knew that he could smell it.

“Just Tai’s fine, Sweetheart.” He cooed, and you were glad that the static of the phone didn’t mask his personal voice, this time. You told him your name, and he tried it out, you liking the way it sounded as it rolled off of his tongue.

“So.” He shrugged, giving the silent offer of you taking the reigns in what you had wanted. He stood there, waiting eagerly, yet patiently ready to pounce when you’ve giving the word, and you had to admit, the thought was a pleasant one.

“We ready to go? My place isn’t much, just a flower shop.” You admitted sheepishly, and a warm smile graced his lips.

“Ya wanna talk about it on our way?”

You eagerly agreed, pleasantly surprised by the beta’s sweet demeanor.

……………

He listened very carefully as you all but rambled over the engine’s loud purr. You rather have him drive, and as he agreed, he suggested that you sit in front of him, so that your now over-heated body could cool down, as he gripped the handlebars. Of course, it was a silent excuse for his chest to lean over your back, and him to lean in to hear you. Whether his breathing softly against your ear was intentional or not, it didn’t help the spike of illicit electricity jolt through you while he murmured his input and replies.

Your flower shop came with your home connected to it. Once your grandmother’s, you inherited it as a gift after your graduation in business class. It wasn’t easy. Your parents wanted you to fit in the more “traditional” role as an omega, but your grandmother, an elderly alpha, had fire in her blood and command, had you stay with her, and focus on your studies. Of course nobody dared to temper with the head of the family, and so you were free to focus on yourself. Of course, you had been labeled as the new “heir” of the pack, and not liking that at all, your family cut contact. You shrugged at his sympathetic apology.

“They’re not my problem, anymore.” I have new family, was on the tip of your tongue, but you decided to leave it, for now.

The ride to your home, wasn’t that long, but the two of you drove slowly, taking the less populated route as the sunset inked the sky in an array of colors. Being winter, the glistening snow on the ground had shimmered with the sky’s dying light, sparkling off twinkles of light, creating a romantic atmosphere all around you.

Still in slight disbelief, you had still enjoyed pondering over the complexity of the situation. The two of you, in all of the beings in the world, were only a select few who were truly genetically compatible. It was now when it had fully dawned on you, when you felt the cool wind breeze lightly against your clothes and ruffle your hair. The cool air did help sate your heated body, but it was stubborn. Your body wanted to burn up, to spend itself in warmth to relieve the aching between your legs. Him of course, feeling you shiver slightly, could only bring his body closer to you, a silent promise that you’ll be warm, soon.

You gulped, knowing that he could probably smell how enticing your flavors had become, and you couldn’t help but hope that he would want a taste.

Soon, it was very soon. Of course he had explained that he found your location by card, and you believed him, even after he showed you the pink little slip after he parked in your driveway. You were still chilled, and had to reluctantly tear yourself away from his scent that was literally cloaking you.

“What do ya wanna do, Princess?” He asked bluntly, yet there was a shy bite of uncertainty laced in his tone of voice, and sympathy pulled at you.

“Be in my nest.” You couldn’t help but wish aloud, and he hummed.

“Don’t blame ya, there, Hon. Ya got goosebumps all over ya. I don’t have work, ‘cause of the holidays, but I’ll leave my number here, so ya can call me, in case.” He stated, and you felt surprise.

“You’re...leaving?” You asked in wonder, and he, ready to turn the engine, stilled.

“Um…it’s a private time for ya, right? Besides…I didn’t know, um, what ya wanted….” He was rather sheepish, now, scratching the back at his head as red burned at his ears. Your mind screeched to a halt, as your heart skipped a couple of beats at the sight of a rough n’ rumble biker man, was being coy. You kind of liked it.

“I would like to learn more about you. We could talk, and I can make extra space in my nest, if you want to stay the night?” You found yourself murmuring rather shyly, yet looking at his surprised look through your lashes.

A loud grin split his features before you could blink, and he hugged you, squeezing your body against his softer, yet stronger one as his scent crashed into you like a wave. Pupils large, you took in a deep, silent breath, basically tasting the oranges on your tongue as a sizzle of heat shot through you and he stiffened.

“I would love to sit with you and talk. I know the ball’s rollin’ a bit too fast, but I’m fine with what you’re fine with.” He hummed soothingly, and that itself helped with the anxious turn in your stomach.

………….

Comfort was an understatement. You were relaxed against him, feeling his chest and body rumble as he spoke, talking with you as you asked your own questions. He was a mechanic, and a biker. Once in a street gang, he disliked the violence, and turned against those who had hurt the weak. His mother loved him, and his step-father emotionally supported him. Either weren’t too thrilled that he liked revving up the streets with his friends and motorcycle, but he never once had broken the law, and was even friends with a few of the officers. He just liked what he liked, and you found yourself respecting that.

Of course, he lived in a decent apartment that wasn’t too shabby, but he had felt that he could use a companion. He chuckled nervously, as you leaned your head back against his chest to stare up at him.

“Ya…ya could say that I was always kinda of a romantic.” He smiled softly, tucking in a stray hair behind your reddened ear. Of course, him being a beta, wasn’t a sex-craved fiend around omega heats such as alphas were. Yes, you were his mate, but beta’s usually weren’t affected too much by those in heats or ruts, and he, although flushed, was mostly more calm, letting his pheromones wash over you in a sense of security that you’ve been waiting for your whole life.

“If I wasn’t busy focusing on graduating, I was working and distancing myself away from those who were toxic.” You admitted, and although it was a vulnerable statement, you felt it breeze out of you in relief. He looked at your red face in surprise, but didn’t embarrass you further as he ran his fingers softly through your hair, enjoying the sheer intimacy between the two of you in your quiet bedroom nest. You were getting sleepy, he could tell, but since the both of you hadn’t eaten, yet, he kissed your cheek.

“Take a nap, Sweetheart. I’ll be back with somethin’ to eat.” He promised, and you nodded off, feeling him pull away reluctantly, yet wrapping the blankets around you.

……………. Nsfw

It was New Year’s Eve. Two days had passed, since then, and you couldn’t help but like him considerably. It was inevitable, you were hooked. Both being mature adults, the two of you had the potential to carve your ways into having a healthy and communicative relationship. Still early in your heat, he had given you space, giving you pillows and blankets from his home, drenched in his scent. As you rode out your heat, he excitedly told his friends and family that his new mate owned a flower shop, keeping the more secretive details to himself.

You would have felt guilty, but you couldn’t help but soothe the ache between your legs as you slowly rode one of the pillows that he’d brought you, letting the soft cotton fabric rub against your clit, soaking in your juices, as you buried your face into the blankets that he’d brought you, his scent flooding your heat-raddled senses as your eyes watered with the need of relief. You preferred smaller spaces, shrouding yourself in the boxed in feeling of your closet as the only light was a flickering vanilla candle, chiming in helpfully with Taishiro’s own lingering scent.

It wasn’t enough. Your heart hammered frantically, skipping beats as you bit into the blanket, feeling tears of frustration pool at the corners of your eyes. Usually, a pillow, or even fingers, would do the trick to sate one round of your heats. This was different. Your body knew the potential of what you could have, and now it sung for him, and even desperately rutting up against a pillow or your digits, were futile, now, and only created a mess. You groaned, agitated and unsatisfied as aches of emptiness speared through you.

You didn’t want to use him, or call him to just satisfy your needs, but you were desperate and in pain, and your body this time, was dependent on his scent. Your mind was bordering on delirious after the first three failed orgasms in the next two hours. He was at work, you knew, but his shift would end, soon, and you could just make a call to let him know ahead of time…

You panted lightly into the pillows, a sheen of sweat covered you. Deciding that you had felt icky, you wanted to test if a cold shower would be merciful to you, this time.

………..

He was over the moon, humming happily to himself as he gripped the wrench, tightly twisting the bolt into a right turn, tightening it flush to the metal of the bike. Of course his parents were ecstatic, his friends and co-workers happy for him, and although some tried to hide their jealousy, he brushed it off.

He admitted, he was a little worried. Fated heats and ruts packed a bit more punch that normal, seeing that a lover’s pheromones could naturally make the other go crazy. He would known, his rut lasted more than it should, and he was furiously biting into his pillow, hands clutching at the sheets as he frantically rutted into them, doing nothing but mussing up pre-cum and semen into a giant mess. He never felt so punched, wrought out, and unsatisfied, and he couldn’t imagine what his poor darling was dealing with.

He was surprised when she called, but at the same time, was elated and worried.

“Baby, are you alright?” He didn’t miss a beat when he answered.

“I…I’m not.” Came almost too stiffly, yet the voice broke a little at the end, and he couldn’t help but bite his tongue in a whine. It wasn’t a tough call to know that she was distraught, and he understood. If what packed a punch to him, he couldn’t imagine what it could do to his omega.

His omega. He confirmed mentally, still getting use to the fact that he had a partner, now.

“Honey, are you sure that you want this? You’re in a vulnerable state, right now, and I will not take advantage of ya.” He’d rather set himself on fire, than to live with the guilt of using and hurting his precious partner, but he knew that although rare, an unattended heat or rut could have grave consequences on one’s body. Especially if it was caused by pheromone withdrawal.

“I’m coherent. I know that you should get off work, soon. Unless you don’t want-?” The sentence hung, and he understood her reluctance, then.

“I’ll be there, soon, Dearest. Rest assure, I do want, an’ we can save some pillow talk for later, alright? Ya don’t sound too well, and I’m going to fix that, alright?” He hushed gently, half-aware that his scent was fanning out, yet it was futile.

“Alright.” Came the weak relief of a reply, and he hung up, turning to search for his boss to get the go-ahead to leave, early.

………………….

You could only send a quick “door’s unlocked” text, before drying your hair, wrapping your naked form in a soft blanket, as this time, you flopped on your bed. It didn’t work, if anything, your body tried harder to burn up, warming you up, as well as your stubborn muscles and pheromone couldn’t just get the hint that you needed a break.

He was your last resort. You really did like the thought of him touching you and being affectionate. What you had minded, was him being uncomfortable, or reluctant and not really wanting to make love, yet. Your ears burned.

You desperately called him. While he was at work. Shame and a bit of guilt ate up at you, but your mind couldn’t process it further, as the front door of your bedroom door had flew open, surprising you in your blanketed form. The familiar smell had struck lightening to your senses, as well as of course the new mix of motor oil and grease, but that didn’t deter you.

He was staring at you, pupils blown wide with a sympathetic look that barely drowned out the pure hungry one. You swallowed thickly. He had a dried smear of oil on his face, his hair wild, and he wore a tight, orange shirt, this time. You still had the dried tear stains, your body flushed despite the cool shower, and of course your distressed scent lingered in the air. His shoulders softened as he shut the door, making his way towards you on the bed.

“Oh, Baby, look at ya.” He fretted, cupping your cheeks as he leaned his forehead against yours. You sighed.

“Do you want this?” Was blurted out between the two of you. Faces reddening, he shyly looked down, first.

“I mean…you’re the one in heat, ya know?”

“I didn’t want to just…use you because I was in heat. You’re not a tool, Tai.”

The two of you looked at each other.

He burst out laughing, to your utter dismay.

“What?” You tried, but he wiped his eyes, giving short little huffs as he caught his breath.

“We’re both worried about somethin’ that’s equally consent, right?”

You nodded.

“So we can waste no further time, right?”

“Right.” You answered, and he stared at you, before leaning in to kiss you gingerly. You could scream in relief at the contact, and he moaned into the kiss gripping your hand gently, giving it a soft squeeze. You decided to pull away the blanket covering you, letting him indicate the hint as he all but stripped off his clothes, placing them in the closet, noticing the used pillows that he’d given you.

“They helped?” He murmured, glancing from them to take in your exposed form. You laid there, feeling his eyes rake over you, and you couldn’t help but like the burning intensity from amber pupils as you took him in, as well. His tight shirts paled in comparison to what was underneath. He was a sight to see; muscular, yes, but you loved his roundness, too, and although not really knowing him, he had made you feel comfortable and warm, and things that you don’t usually feel.

“Considerably. I…don’t use other people’s things like that.” You told the truth shyly, despite the crawling inferno in your abdomen. He couldn’t help but feel the need to just nurture, his beta instincts screaming at him that this is his mate, you need to be taken care of. Going with them, he couldn’t help join you on the bed, seeing that you’ve kept the blanket only around your shoulders. He leaned down and kissed you, running his calloused, worked hands across the goosebumps on your heated shoulders and arms.

It was fluttery and warm, and although it ended a little too soon for your liking, he pecked your cheek, before burying his face into the crook of your neck, letting you do the same as the two of you let each other’s scents of “home” wash over the both of you. Time slowed down for a minute, but then you couldn’t help but let out a low whine as your heat sparked up again, and he of course could smell it directly.

“I wanna take this slow, Honey, but ya look like a wreck wanting to get some relief.” He hummed, gently kissing your ear, relishing in your small shiver.

“I was worse, earlier, but a cool shower and you had helped me, considerably, but I think it’s crawling back up, again.” You whimpered, and he understood.

“Alright. Lemme take care of ya, Sweetlin’.” He murmured, hesitantly breaking away, turning his attention to the literal core of your problems. You looked so flushed down there, sopping wet with slick and just needing to be laved with attention, and so he did. He ignored your small jump and slight yelp as he breached two digits past your folds, and into the loosened muscle of your opening. Of course omegas were born to take it with little resistance, but he was a considerate mate.

Bringing one of your legs on top of his shoulder, and the other securely around his waist, he eyed your reactions as he slowly pumped now three fingers into your tightness, eliciting small whimpers of approval from you, making his inner beta purr with contentment, knowing that he was soothing and satisfying his hurting beloved intended.

Your couldn’t help but squeeze your eyes shut, biting the back of your hand as he scooted down, letting himself being able to properly taste you and your insides fluttered at his bitten moan of approval. Good mate, he was such a good provider. Coming when you were in a dire time of need, making sure that he had full consent. Your legs tightened over his shoulder and waist when his attention went to your bud, lolling it stiffly around his tongue as his fingers pumped, curled, and stretched, and you felt yourself tighten like a bow string, ready to be set loose, any moment.

“Sweetlin’, are ya ‘bout to cum?” He broke away to ask, and you bit out a whine of disappointment at the loss, but nodded your head, anyway as you opened your eyes, seeing him through a constellation of blurry tears as you blinked rapidly.

Sighing softly, he gingerly gave a small kiss to your inner thigh, rather apologetically.

“Don’t fret, Honey. I’ll give you what you want, alright? I’m just makin’ sure that you’re ready, an’ still wantin’ this.” He hummed, and you felt a trickle of relief from his caring sincerity. Your hands, once clenched in the sheets, reached over and stroked his cheek rather gently.

“I’m fine, Darling.” You couldn’t help but gaze upon him rather softly, as he gingerly took your hand that held his cheek, and kissed your palm, letting his nose nestle in the scent glands within your wrist as he returned your equally, gentle look of affection.

“Alright.” He said after your affirmative nod. You were slick and loose, and he guided himself to your opening, pushing the tip of the head in, stilling as you stiffened. He regained his posture to hover over you, bringing his hands upon your breasts, kneading them gently as he leaned down, fawning over you with attention and affection, pushing forward slowly when he felt that your body relaxed more into his kisses.

“That’s it, Honey. Just a little more, alright, Darlin’? You’re doin’ so well, Sweetheart.” He murmured lowly, hot breath fanning over your flushed face as you took him in to the hilt, finally.

You were ready to burst, and he seemed to know it.

“Go ahead and cum, alright? We’ve got other rounds to go. I bet ya’re pent up. Poor thing.” He cooed, letting his gentleness wash over you as you rolled your hips, liking the way that the curved, fat head, hit a certain spot within you. Contrary to belief, omegas didn’t need a knot to be satisfied, and with your only mate, you already were. Taking his cue, he met your thrusts rather ecstatically, giving sharper, shorter ones while not pulling out even an inch, thumbing your clit, cursing as you couldn’t help but feel yourself tighten around him rather harshly. Wanting to receive a biting mark in which signified a mated bond for life, he asked, and you delivered, sharpened canines didn’t think twice to the inner omega’s and beta mate’s command for you to just claim, and you did.

All of the failed attempts of an orgasm, earlier, came crashing into you as the metaphorical bowstring snapped, shooting jolts of electricity and sheer tears of relief flooded your eyes, your teeth had clamped harder onto the spot near his jugular, and he didn’t hesitate to give you his own mating bite, rutting into you rather wildly like a rabid animal, teeth sunken into the skin of your scent glands, marking you as his, as he churned your tightened walls.

He was riding with you through your own euphoria, him stilling, only to flood them with his own release as he let out a pure satisfied groan into your bitten flesh. Staying still fter what had seemed to be multiple minutes, he released his jaw from your wound, as you did the same. The two of you favored to slowly lave at each other’s freshly scarred bites, healing them.

After a while, you broke free, panting harshly as you felt dizzy with relief, having the dreadful heat be sated by such a kind and wonderful lover.

“Might be a lil’ too soon, but fuck it. I love ya.” He panted out as the two of you climbed down from your climatic highs, he making sure that you weren’t seriously too hurt by the bite. He brushed your sweaty locks of hair away from your face, and you cupped his face rather gently, kissing him.

“I love you, as well.” You admitted. Sure it was soon, but you couldn’t care less. He deserved to know that his feelings were reciprocated, and you, feeling relieved and yet tired, wanted him to know it.

“How about we clean up, a little, and continue this later, alright?” He hummed, and you agreed.

………………….

After cleaning up, you rested your head on his arm as the two of you talked about everything and nothing. His scent had actually helped keep your heat at bay longer than originally planned, and so the two of you were content in just the sheer intimacy of lazy pillow talk.

Each admired one’s bite, although it did break the skin and scarred, one’s saliva had healing properties to keep it cleaned and from getting infected. Now and then, he opted to kiss yours, licking a fresh stripe to help keep it cleaned, and you did the same.

You didn’t remember when you had fallen asleep, but you’ve never felt so peaceful within your life, waking up with him gripping you into a tight hug, a string of drool pooled at the corner of his mouth as he snored rather softly. Finding this cute, you checked the time on your clock, and decided to stir and wake him up around midnight, celebrating the New Year with a New Year’s kiss.

………………….

Aaaaaaaaaah. It’s done and took me a little bit longer than I thought it would, but I’m happy with it. For those who’re new to abo, I tried my best to explain, but also throw in some twists (ie our boy being a beta bc they’re Important and need more love).

#New Year #ABO #Beta #Omega #Taishiro Toyomitsu x reader #Taishiro Toyomitsu #Biker! Tai #Look there's smut but you don't have to read it if you don't wanna #I'll never judge bc I understand if it makes one uncomfortable #So I added a little warning thing before the hot n' heavy stuff

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lawrising-a · 4 years ago

Note

[ rose ] for a lovesick memory. (passes you a few of these asks as i work on getting the others ready <3)

For someone easily lovesick, there's a palathroa of memories to choose from. The detective easily recalls a stranger at a gas station who asked for a light, and when he sheepishly mentioned not carrying a lighter ---- they had laughed something beautiful, smiled with honey soaked lips, and said, “It's fine, darlin,” He felt his temperature rise. Heart fluttering instinctively as he watched her go after. Feeling almost ill the week to follow ; bedridden as he thought about that encounter. Unknowingly, his favorite term of endearment molds into that southern drawl of darling. The word pushing past him without effort. Although he's not sure if that counts. There was no name to their face. And he's thought about them less and less since. So Matthew wrestles with another memory, something deeper.

People from an October night float by. A daredevil who dies for Matthew, like some fairytale version of a prince charming. Someone in a red jacket that seeks him out, burns the fire inside him by believing him superior despite knowing otherwise. Some lonesome girl with naturally withdrawn eyes and long hair he ached to play with. Then there's ( there was ) his own best friend, his dolled up executioner, and the boy and girl with the most blood on their hands. There's not enough time in the world to focus on them all, as much as he wants to, which leaves him flipping through his brain for the very best example. When he finds it, the detective eyes soften around the edges ; looking twice his age when his rigid posture slumps. Gazing aimlessly up at the leaked soiled ceiling of the hotel when it begins to play through his head.

They're all crowded in that tent again. Red and white stripes making his vision blur. There's an ache in his arm, muscles burning from the two people he just beat. Though he feels an odd sense of pride too, or lightness from ( it's hard to recall ) seeing his name on the board in chalk too easily chipped away. Feeling the residue warmth of Nikita's and Rosanna's hands in his. He flexes his fingers and in no time at all, it's only him and the record producer standing. When they get situated at the table, the detective does his best to ignore the dust scattered along his glowing cheeks. Keeps his face neutral even when it wants to break and fall apart ; eyes honed in on smiling, glossed lips. It's a smirk that rests on Manny's face and it's ridiculously attractive when it shouldn't be. Distractingly picking up on the way the light makes the pink shine, noticing the sparkles resting along said lined lips. When they lock hands ( it's an arm wrestling challenge, gets ahold of yourself! ) nothing gets easier. Mat's too aware of how much larger the other man's hand is. Feels the rings digging uncomfortably into his slick skin. It'll leave marks, and, well, he can't find it in him to mind.

Nothing in Everlock should be fun. It's an awful town and there's no joy to be had here, no future. But as he struggles against Manny's grip and the record producer has the nerve to tease him, he forgets himself. Thinks that, perhaps, there is something magical within this town. Their friends cheer around them while Matthew's arm is shakes, face red with his strain as he barks something back that he can't hear over the blood rushing in his ears and ---- it's perfect. It shouldn't be. But when Manny wins and his knees hit the ground, a noise jolting out of him, he can't help the desire swirling in his gut. Eyes glazed over, brain buzzing with ideas that shouldn't be there. Even as the other was competing against him, there was nothing but safety in his grip. His larger body. Mat hugged him earlier that night ; throwing himself into him and Manny caught him without fail. And he needs to hold his hand again, just, naturally this time. Wants the younger male to check on him and to haul him onto his feet only to kiss him senseless. There's no time for it, but this tent feels ... It feels different. It feels like Everlock is his home. And Manny's the guy he's holding puppy love for, buried deep within. This is just a regular night with his friends who are his constants ; a never wavering presence in his life.

( it's hard to believe they were mostly strangers before this )

... Yet that was a long time ago. Everything that transpired after was nothing to romanticize, despite the fact he wants to. The detective squeezes his eyes shut, rolls onto his side, and decides to sleep some more now. Any wetness that prickles his eyes is ignored. Along with the pang in his heart.

( lovesickness was a constant state he was in, anyway. why dwell on people who never had the chance of working out? )

#» yellow tainted views ( answered. )#★ study | but the rest of these folk? why should i care?#the-kings-cavalry #( haha *rants abt matty's attraction to manny and makes myself sad* )#( i just think the detective and the producer are neat ... especially given how they kinda fell out in the end *sad noises* )#( please matthew had such fun arm wrestling and then he gets murdered after ugh its not fair!!! )#( the one time he was having fun gets so easily soiled and just hmpft )#( yes hes mulling over everlock memories in a hotel post everlock hes mentally ill you guys )

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unlockthelore · 5 years ago

Text

Recollection

It’s easiest for Hiei to express himself without an audience because there are some things meant for Kurama alone. From the fic Fluent on Ao3. For more updates, follow the fluent yyh tag on this blog.

Hiei resurfaces from foggy thoughts as rustling leaves settle overhead and the forest falls silent. In the distance, shadows cast long and creep away from an orange-yellow glow, voices crowing victory in anecdotes brazenly or softly divulged between brief stints of laughter and playful scuffles. His eyes flutter shut as the Jagan opens. Pale blue hair, an almost odd shade of green in the firelight couple with shuttered crimson eyes crinkling at the corners with quiet cheer. His heart pounds in his chest as she steals a glance over her shoulder, lips moving when her gaze flits to the ferry girl shuffling about after coaxing the panting dirt-covered pair on the other side of the fire to quiet down.

There is someone missing from their group and Hiei found himself painfully aware of the the night’s soundlessness; but he keeps his gaze on her. Worry crowding deep in his chest that if he took his eyes off of her for a second, she would disappear again.

Discontent and anger stokes fire beneath his skin when her shoulders hunch as she shies from the ferry girl’s outstretched hand. While the gesture was friendly, it’s quickly rescinded with a comforting murmur. The detective and oaf quieting when she flinches at their pitched laughter, resolving to talk quietly as they share stories in detail that widens her eyes in disbelief. Hiei curled his fingers to fists, almost feeling a glimmer of thankfulness for the trio. Though they give her space, they sit close enough to her that the shadows stretching long around the enclosure seem less likely to hold some foe who’d steal her away.

The Jagan closes as Hiei’s lips press in a thin line, crimson eyes darting to the cops of trees behind him as a strolling figure steps through. Kurama’s earlier smugness is nowhere to be found yet he slips a hand from his pocket, lips curled in a cheeky smile.

“I wasn’t hiding my energy,” he assures, holding his palm outward. “Yukina would be distressed if I suddenly disappeared, don’t you agree?”

Ignoring the jab at his earlier disappearance, Hiei scoffs, rolling his eyes up to the indifferent star-studded sky. Though Kurama’s gesture was meant to be a show of deference, he knew better. Anywhere with plant life was the fox’s domain, and Hiei was the one at the disadvantage. Yet, if he were honest, he felt safe. Surprisingly so as Kurama walks behind him, daring to pull him close and nuzzle at his ear. A familiar gesture that almost made Hiei’s body seize. Suppressing a shiver, Hiei firmly kept his gaze upon the flickering light even when a knowing hand slips into the fold of his cloak, fingertips cool against his skin.

“It’s fine if you aren’t ready to embrace her yet, Hiei,” Kurama notes, lips brushing against the shell of his ear, simultaneously igniting flames and cooling them in his chest. “You’ve both been through a great deal.”

A part of Hiei, righteous and fettered, almost snaps at Kurama blindly. It desires to push away the searching fingers that seem to map out his body expertly, careening over his heart to soothe, and holding him loosely yet with enough pressure to remind. Another part of him, one uninhibited and daresay gentle, loosens tension in his muscles that’d been wound up for weeks — months — years, in anticipation for this moment. It’s grateful that he isn’t alone. That another chapter in his life hadn’t ended in tragedy.

And that Kurama was there to share the moment with him.

“Your Vow,” Hiei murmurs, tiring of his hands hanging loosely at his sides, his fingers brushing against Kurama’s wrist to still his hand’s movement.

“Fullfilled,” Kurama smiles against the space behind Hiei’s ear. A curse muttered when his teeth catch on the lobe, the press of his body less soothing, lapping closer toward need. “And in a timely manner, thanks to our team.”

Recalling the faint slip of the tongue to cover his own tracks, Hiei scoffed, tipping his head to one side to catch sight of amused green eyes seeming to glow in the forest’s dim. “Don’t read into it.”

“They have potential,” Kurama says in a lilting tone, slipping his hand from Hiei’s cloak, the cool touch sorely missed but quickly remedied when he’s coaxed into turning to face him. A slender finger hooked in the waist of his pants to tug him closer. “Yuusuke, of course. And Kuwabara as well.”

“Hm,” Hiei grumbles, grimacing when he caught the tail end of Kuwabara attempting to regale Yukina with his heroics. A light brush against the corner of his lips drawing his attention back to Kurama, the fox pulling away with a glimmer of amusement and pride.

Not the self-assured glimmer of arrogance when Kurama catches him off guard. Or the look he has when his plans have gone just right, even if the conditions were unexpected. No, this was pride in him. An expression he’d seen often when he pulled something off or completed a task half-expecting to go unnoticed. Little escaped Kurama’s knowledge though. A tidal wave of emotion that’d swept through Hiei once his guard had lowered swelled in his chest.

“Perhaps you could join us by the fire, I know you keep warm yourself, bu—”

Hiei yanked Kurama down by the pristine white of his newly tailored outfit, silencing the carefully worded quip with a firm press of his lips against the fox’s softer pair. Kurama stiffening up then seeming to melt against him, moving to reciprocate when Hiei yanked away from him to hiss out, “Thank you.”

Green eyes shutter, a fine red brow raised, nearly stifling Hiei’s tongue but he hurries on before he can be pulled into Kurama’s allure again or questioned.

“Yukina isn’t comfortable around humans and this freedom is…” The words sour on Hiei’s tongue as he fumbles for them. “She’s afraid, and you bring her comfort, which brings me…”

His skin tingles as if his entire being was charged with something. Anger, yes. He hated those humans who kept his sister imprisoned. No punishment the Reikai could inflict on their souls would ever satisfy him. It would never be reparation for the pain Yukina endured. And if not for their rules, he would’ve beaten that pigheaded whelp to death.

Hiei barely noticed Kurama’s hold on his shoulders, realizing from the fox’s grip that he’d been trembling. Meeting a concerned green gaze, another crack etches deep in the dam withholding the tide.

He wants to explain, tell Kurama how deep his gratitude ran. Appreciation on long nights spent with him searching through records of blacklisted sellers peddling demonic artifacts and persons, right beneath the Reikai’s nose. Dead ends in simpering whelps daring to plead for mercy at his feet while wearing his sister’s pain around their necks and adorned on their walls. Arguments ending in hushed comforting whispers, waiting arms there to comfort him after Hiei dismissed Kurama’s assurances that they will find her. Perhaps not today, or tomorrow, but they would continue looking until they found answers.

Hiei didn’t understand it. There was nothing for Kurama to benefit from in helping him search for Yukina. The original grounds for their partnership were annulled, Kurama no longer needed his strength. He was formidable even in the beginning, likely humoring him out of interest. And if they delved in the Underworld for too long, surely something would come looking for them in return.

Memories could be erased and tracks hidden, but it would only bring Hiei peace to have Yukina safely in his sights or to know of her fate. When asked, Kurama had only given him a genial smile, then later it was joined by a kiss over the Jagan’s lid, both temporarily shattering Hiei’s determination to know the truth. If he could live in this lie that Kurama cared. That he was here for another reason aside from fleeting interest.

Would it be worth being hurt in the end?

He felt that he understood a little more after Kurama held him in the warehouse, shed tears for him when they parted, embraced him when their sentencing was over and all that was left were regrets and new trials to face.

We’ll go together, right, Hiei?

Kurama’s widened eyes were all he saw before a flurry of kisses, some too sharp, fleeting, lingering and light for Hiei to make sense of were dotted in a flurry across smooth cheeks, a rounded nose, the lids of green eyes and soft lips that melded the beginnings of his name.

“Hi—”

“Stop talking,” Hiei hissed, anticipation trilling in his heart at the soft, awed look in Kurama’s eyes when he pulled away. “Think about after.”

Letting him go, Hiei leapt into the trees just shy Kuwabara’s arrival, stumbling out of the brush and grumbling at Kurama. Something about a leak and the fox quickly recovered with a light cough in his fist and a word, smoothing out the wrinkles in his clothes as he ushered the oaf off toward the trail leading to their campsite. Spying through the leaves, Hiei met Kurama’s gaze and fought the urge to smile as the fox gave him a half-grin then turned away.

After had never seemed so hopeful.

#yu yu hakusho #yyh #kurahi #kurama #hiei #fanfiction #my fanfiction #fluent yyh

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mcsmmafia · 4 years ago

Text

MC:SM Mafia - Round III 🍪

THE 3RD ROUND OF MAFIA

Story written by Mari

A group of nine village folk were out catching butterflies on a beautiful blue day. One of them saw a pretty butterfly, catching the rest of the humble villager’s curious eyes. The folk left cookie crumbles to make sure they don’t get lost. The butterfly lead them to a big gingerbread mansion, with cookies, cake, and all sorts of sweets! The group looked at the sweets, absolutely famished. The group followed the butterfly into the dining room, finding a beautiful and grand chocolate table, cake scented glowstone, sugar pumpkins, and the most beautiful grand vanilla doors. The group, astonished by all this candy, broke apart the delicious candy covered furniture, as the butterfly floated away. As soon as the winged creature fluttered away, a voice was heard in the walls.

“Come one, come all, for this candy house is free for all, have a feast, what a treat, but in the shadows will emerge a beast.”

The voice was angelic, yet something wasn’t right about it. One of the 9 village folk rushed to the door, only to find the outside cracker paths covered in candy cane wielding zombies. “We’re trapped! What shall we do?”

“Well this is a house covered in delicous food!”

“But but good sir, listen listen! The voice in the walls said a monster will intrude!”

Humble villager folk, it is time.

To find.

THE EVIL WITCH OF THIS MANSION! 🎩

thunder roll

🌑 Results of Night 1:

Radar skulked off to the kitchen to sleep.

Stella first stayed in the entrance hall, but quickly came to the conclusion that zombie had a very loud voice, so she sneaked off to the attic to sleep.

Jesse also stayed in the entrance hall, staring at the zombies outside, waiting that they would slowly but surely eat their way into the house. However, they were dumb and didn't eat straight on one spot, so at dawn they still haven't made a breakthrough. Maybe it's safe in here.

Dan read some edible pages (the font was made of frosting) with his roommate in the library and enjoyed a sweet sleep afterwards.

Harper showed to be an altruistic redstoner who would disable all the traps in the kitchen.

Mevia did the same as Dan.

CASSIE ended up all alone with the candyfloss pillows in the bed chamber... well, dangit. There was nothing else to do than sleep on the gingerbread beds. On the bright side, it was still fresh, so that wasn't too bad.

Stampy spent a bit more time in the entrance hall, but then sneaked off to the attic to have a safe sleep.

☀ Results of Day 2:

Nobody had the guts to vote someone to at least get locked up. Death awaits them...

🌒 Results of Night 2:

Radar just... ate the wall in the attc. Partially. And then went to sleep. I- I don't even wanna ask.

Stella lingered around the living room for a bit, but then went to the attic for the night.

Jesse took the safety route and hid in the attic for their sleep.

Dan huddled up in the sweet sugary candyfloss of the bed chamber. And probably ended up being very sticky. No, I'm not talking about the bed... soon, a giant mass of sugar just fell on his head to bury him! It's a traaap!! Oh well, we'll keep him in sweet memory!

Harper stayed in the kitchen, ate a cupcake or two and went to the land of dreams afterwards.

Mevia was freaked out about Winslow, so she fled to the... dining room. I mean, why not lol. Surely something you wouldn't exspect!

CASSIE sneaked into the secret passage way and set off a trap or two in the bed chamber, and a random one in the gallery. Then she had her killer beauty rest.

Stampy just hang out in the kitchen, feeling sneaky eating a whole cake in just one second where PAMA was not looking, and eventually, je fell asleep. Or he went into coma because eating so much so fast... I'm not sure.

Dan has died!

☀ Results of Day 3:

Stampy made a trade with Stella and gave her an iron sword.

Stella was being quite the detective! Together with Jesse and Mevia, she was able to narrow down a few suspects. For tonight, CASSIE and Mevia were sent to the closet to be guarded by Jesse. And, I guess the rest just settled to ALL go to the KITCHEN!? 😂

🌓 Results of Night 3:

Radar had to move on to the kitchen because he'd otherwise eat a leak in the roof. And it's probably not so comfortable to sleep under the open sky with this storm going on.

Stella was eager to craft a copy of Stampy's iron sword in the kitchen. It took a while to gather all the materials, and she had to be careful to not disturb the others in their sleep. She eventually got finished a few hours before dawn, but just couldn't fall asleep because of the excitement!!

Jesse kept a very close eye to their prisoners, warily clutching their sword. They would not let them doze off for one second.

Harper stayed in the kitchen, not minding the company, and went to bed early.

Mevia also watched her guard Jesse narrowly, effectively spending the whole night on a staring contest.

CASSIE kinda just went with being locked up and forced to stay awake. At least she still had food.

Stampy was not okay with Harper being in the kitchen, so he fled to the attic.

☀ Results of Day 4:

Stella made a trade with Stampy and gave him an iron sword. Jesse gave the Flint & Steel to Radar. Mevia and CASSIE were sent to the closet to be guarded by Stampy.

Seems like they've agreed on two main suspects! Though CASSIE is in way stronger suspection by multiple people. Also... Could y'all stop assembling at one place!?! 😮😂

🌔 Results of Night 4:

Dan's ghost popped up from nowhere in the middle of the night and threatened Cassie a fiery doom, like a horror ride, in Night 5!! Cassie, seriously, you better watch out!! 😮👻🔥

Radar thought about writing a list again, but then realized it was kinda useless since literally everyone was in the attic anyway. So he only went to sleep.

Stella went to the attic to safely theorize about everything. She was still in thoughts as she slowly fell asleep.

Jesse allowed themself a restful night in the attic.

Harper was paranoid of everyone being in the attic with her, and chose to stay awake just in case.

Mevia was salty at her guard for having to stay awake again. No sugar could ease her mind.

CASSIE quielty accepted her fate of becoming a living zombie in the closet.

Stampy showed mercy to his prisoners and only forced them to stay awake... Although the thought of killing them both was sweet.

☀ Results of Day 5:

Mevia has been sent to the closet to be guarded by Stampy.

Discussions were going on... emotions have been raised... perks revealed... but most of the guests still won't commit to either Mevia or CASSIE. So Stella, Stampy and Mevia voted to throw CASSIE out, but they were short by one vote! Sooo annoying!!

🌕 Results of Night 5:

Radar fell safely into the sugary clouds and rested well in the bed chamber.

Stella followed her suspect CASSIE to the kitchen. Ominously, Lluna sniffed diamond nearby! Stella instantly had bets on a diamond axe, so she let Lluna steal it... then she chose to stay awake. However, the night would not go by that easily; it must've been around midnight when Stella abruptly felt a cold hand covering her mouth and throat! She tried to fight back, but the surprise and darkness weakened her mind, and soon, she passed out... Only to awake one more time, and find herself surrounded by calio cats. Not one, not two... three... five, seven, nine!? HOW MANY ARE THERE, HOW MANY, THIS CAN'T BE REAL, THIS MUST BE A BAD DREAM, A NIGHTMARE... a... night... nightmare... in her head.

Jesse went for the bed chamber, but actually wanted to observe the hallway to the gallery, though not having a bow or an arrow. It was... not very eventful.

Harper felt very safe being alone in the attic with PAMA, and took a long nap.

Mevia had to stand the closet imprisonment one more time - and definitely wasn't happy about becoming a regular here. On the bright side, since she is so used to it by now, she fell asleep even though Stampy tried his best to not let her.

CASSIE saw her probably last chance, and took it - she sneaked up behind Stella like a cat, and instantly covered her mouth to prevent any noise. Then she slowly strangled her to unconciousness, and dumped her in the basement. Now the cats would take care of the rest.

Stampy laughed at his prisoner, and tried to force him to stay awake. However, Mevia was mega-tired, and nearly instantly doze off despite standing.

The Last Day ☀

Finally, the guests had a clear lead! After ages of locking up poor Mevia and Stella being captured and terrorized by cats, her pet Lluna stole the solid evidence: A diamond axe, which belonged to CASSIE!! 🪓

They immediately had an emergency meeting at breakfast to discuss how to get rid of CASSIE the safest way. Then, CASSIE showed up for breakfast too - and one single moment of mutual gaze said a thousand words. Everyone stood up as fast as they could, but CASSIE was already running away - and Stampy, Mevia and Jesse rushed after her! (Without Stella, they stayed at the table because they felt a little labile from the nightmares still.)

Mevia swang her diamand axe and sprinted ahead, full of anger and bloodthirst to take their vengeance on Dan. Stampy was following right behind- oh, a CAKE!! Yum-yum!!! 🍰

For some reason, Sea was fleeing so super fast - oh, right! She didn't have her diamond axe on her anymore... Oh noo, she’s gonna escape the mansion before we can even grab her!! 🙁

Quickly, we need to corner her- Jesse tried to shoot ahead, but they were too tired - CASSIE's already at the front door, nuu- but then- CASSIE opened the front door and found Reuben already waiting for her, ready to push her down! In a matter of seconds, Mevia was there, ready to homicidally eliminate CASSIE herself. However, Jesse yelled to throw them out like planned, as they would not be any better to split Cassie in two halves. Mevia sighed grumpily.

They both dragged CASSIE to the center of the front yard, with the help of Reuben. Arrived, they gave CASSIE a deadly stare; Jesse asked if she had any last words. In fact, CASSIE had:

“LONG LIVE MY CATS! Wait, can someone feed them when I-", Mevia pushed her into the zombies, "TAKE CARE OF MY CATS”.

Then they left CASSIE to her fate.

As Jesse hustled to head back inside, they suddenly heard a splash - which sounded nothing like water. They turned around... Mevia was not behind them. In fact, she was in the back, having pulled out her axe which was now bloody. Oh welp... she really wanted to revenge Dan.

Right before the guests left the mansion for good, they found a small paper on the table. It showed where the cats are and what times to feed them. Nobody would give a damn.

(Worst ending ever... 😿)

The guests have won the game! 🍪

#mcsm #episode 6 #mafia

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cupcakemolotov · 6 years ago

Text

A Broken Shield

Posted for Day One: Mythological Creatures of Klaroline AU Week. Not particularly mythological in this one, but did a bit of a role swap with Klaus as a witch and Caroline as a werewolf. Very AU, and not sticking to any TVD Canon. A tiny smidge of angst, but not romantically.

The bar was filled with smoke, the low voice of a witch touched with magic singing to the crowd. Not a siren, Caroline decided as she threaded through the swaying bodies, but perhaps a few drops of fae blood. Her voice was sweet if not strong, and her face was engagingly human. It was a song that invited you to stay, to drink, and probably why she had this gig. Once upon a time Caroline would have had a quiet word or five with the owner, given them a nice little fine. Mood magic was illegal when mixed with alcohol unless expressly agreed to and she hadn’t seen any of those warnings.

But she wasn’t a cop anymore. She had no authority and, Caroline supposed, no real inclination to involve herself in this small racquet. She’d only ducked into the bar to make use of its backdoor into an alley. It was a familiar shortcut, and her feet had followed the path without much thought.

Evening was starting to fall over the city, the softly falling snow pretty. She knew somewhere in the city a body was cooling and a detective was cursing the snowfall, the way it would ruin the lingering scents. A werewolf nose might be inadmissible in court, but no one was quite willing to dismiss what it could find, either. That forty-eight hours ago she’d been both detective and wolf had been an assist.

Now, she’d been striped of her badge and her wolf was angry. Pausing to let her eyes scan the room, she tiredly rolled her neck. She’d left the quiet seclusion of her apartment in hopes that a long walk would smooth the jagged edges of being so unceremoniously thrown out of what she’d considered her pack. The way her partner had watched her with a set expression.

Matt hadn’t been surprised.

That had hurt the most. An unexpected betrayal from the one place she’d stopped looking for it inside a department that had slowly turned from home to a false sanctuary over the last decade. Police Chief Mason Lockwood was thinning the ranks, cutting his losses and she’d ended up on the chopping block.

She’d known it was coming as soon as she’d seen the faces around her when she’d walked in, had braced her wolf with a stubborn will when she’d wanted to use teeth. Better to go now, when she still had her dignity and her pride than to let a man who would never be her alpha try to wear her down.

It would be hard to find short term work in the city. No private agency would be willing to take her so soon, and even her nearly impeachable record wouldn’t mean much in a place where human and supernatural no longer blended quite so seamlessly. Something dangerous was brewing in the streets, but those were worries for another day. Tonight, she needed to burn off enough aggigitation that she could sleep.

Ignoring the little tug of suggestion to continue to linger, her wolf brushed the magic easily aside, Caroline stepped back into the softly falling snow. Shutting the door quietly, she turned let the fresh air clear her nose. The snow was sharp, and underneath it were the lingering hints of those who’d walked the alley before her. The wind shifted, and her hair slid across her face just as another, more familiar scent caught her attention.

Stiffening, she bit down on a growl of frustration as the witch she had been hoping to avoid until she got her emotions under control turned and walked down the narrow alley. He paused for a moment, clearly not expecting to find someone already in the alley, before his mouth curled into a familiar, pleased smile.

With tumbled curls and entirely unfair lips, Klaus Mikaelson skittered along the edge of being almost too pretty. He played his natural charisma very well, oozing charm and enough heat to make the even the most devout of grandmother’s take notice. Caroline wasn’t devout and over the years she’d had cause to be thankful that he didn’t have the same sense of smell that she did.

“Detective,” he murmured. She had been braced for the familiar greeting, but flinched anyway. His smile flattened, gaze turning diamond hard. “So it’s not just a rumor.”

Caroline shoved her fingers into her jacket pockets to hide the way her nails curled into her palms. Forcing herself to ignore the flutter of happiness that coursed through her at his obvious temper on her behalf, she sidestepped his words. “Mikaelson. What are you doing here?”

His gaze narrowed at her deflect, and Klaus moved closer, until the familiar bite of his cologne and his intriguing personal scent overpowered everything else. “I own this bar.”

She blinked and looked over her shoulder at the dipilated sign, the scarred wood and slightly outdated exterior. It didn’t surprise her that he owned more real estate than the Department knew about, she just hadn’t expected this location to be one of them. Brow arching, she turned back to him, voice dry. “Did you know you’re employing someone with siren blood to sing without proper warnings?”

“Am I?” He shrugged. “Resumes are so hard to trust these days.”

Half-tempted to smile at his blasé tone, she shook her head and made to move further down the alley. Klaus shifted, blocking her path with his body. “Let me buy you a drink.”

Caroline blinked and then frowned. “I’m not in the mood to be interrogated.”

Her firing was still to new, too bloody of a cut for her to be willing to discuss it. That Klaus even knew about it confirmed her long held belief that he had eyes and ears inside the Department. It wasn’t much of a surprise, she’d spent years trying to get a mole inside his organization. It did suck that he’d been better at it than her.

“Just a conversation, Caroline,” he coaxed. “We are something like friends, are we not?”

Her lips pursed as she considered his words. The thing between her and Klaus was complicated. He was pushy at his best, murderous at his worst. But much to her chagrin, her wolf had liked him from the start. Klaus, with his charm and his playfulness that acted as such a thin veneer for the violence that lived beneath his skin. It had taken the cop much longer to be so accepting, so willing to acknowledge the attraction he’d had never once tried to ignore.

Today, heart sick and bruised, she wasn’t sure spending time with him was such a good idea. But then again, Klaus had never betrayed her and she’d given him ample opportunity for it. Maybe some company, familiar as he was, would ease her wolf enough she could sleep.

“One drink,” she agreed finally. Shoving her hair back, she glanced at the bar and shook her head. “Something quieter than here, please.”

His lips curved, dimple a shadowed tease. “I know a place.”

“When I said quieter, I didn’t necessarily mean empty.” Caroline’s words echoed around the room, and Klaus chuckled as he walked around the bar. His boots were surprisingly soft on the wood, and she absently wondered if he’d spelled them.

Witches.

Giving herself a moment, she admired the feel of the newly renovated bar. If she remembered correctly, the location had been run by a witch twenty years ago and the premise had been badly damaged by a gang fight, and it had shut down shortly after. It had sat empty and rotting for a long time.

She glanced back to find him watching her, his eyes shadowed in the low light. He seemed content to watch her, but she hadn’t been looking for echoes of her own heartbeat, and this place was an old memory. “Do you own this one too?”

Klaus’ laughter was soft. “Not exactly.”

Caroline wondered what that meant. Shaking her head, she let her gaze sweep over the changes. “The update is lovely.”

His gaze sparked with curiosity. “Did you know it before?”

Unwinding her scarf, she finally walked towards him. “I used to live in the area.”

His brows arched high and he tipped his head towards a stool. “I didn’t know that.”

She gave him credit for only allowing a hint of disgruntlement to leak into his voice. Klaus had never taken kindly to her secrets. “Should you have?”

The look he gave her was flat and she laughed. Even if she hadn’t been the cop who butted heads against him and his people the most frequently, she thought that he might have still dug through her life with a fine tooth comb. She didn’t know what it would mean now that they were no longer technically on opposite sides.

“It was a few years before I decided to be a cop again, and long before I’d have been on your radar.” Caroline murmured, answering his unvoiced question as she finished shedding her outer layer.

Klaus considered her words with a little frown, but his face quickly smoothed over. “Perhaps.”

Rolling her eyes, Caroline pointed at the wall lined with bottles. “I was promised a drink.”

He glanced at the collection of booze. “Gin, if I remember correctly?”

She snorted. “Tonight is definitely a tequila night.”

His brow arched but he obligingly hunted for a shot glass, movements sure and easy. Caroline wondered how much time he’d spent behind a bar. Picturing him with rolled back sleeves, the hint of the tattoos that were only partly visible when he bared his forearms, left her feeling a little flushed.

Pre-cop Caroline would have flirted hard.

She’d have to decide what post-cop Caroline wanted.

“Lime?” His voice cut smoothly through her thoughts, and she shook her head.

“Not tonight.” Caroline braced her arm on the bar, studied him as he moved. “When did you work behind a bar?”

His lips curled as he poured her a shot and then set the bottle next to her. “Here and there, as needed. It’s a bit of a rare occurrence now.”

Klaus didn’t give her a chance to respond, lifting his own bottle of choice, some fancy bourbon, and saluting. Tipping her head, Caroline downed her shot, and she let the burn of it ease the knot in her chest. It didn’t touch the grief, but the tight muscles in her neck eased a hair. Maybe she’d consider getting drunk after all.

When she was alone again.

“I am sorry, Caroline,” Klaus said once she’d poured herself another drink, his voice low. She looked up to find him watching her, mouth set in a hard line. “The city will miss you as a detective.”

There was a wealth of meaning under his words. She and Klaus had worked against each more often than their goals had aligned, but he’d never let her chosen profession get in the way of what he claimed he wanted. He’d always done his best to push past the shield she wore, figuratively and literally, to find the woman, the wolf, behind the badge. But in his pursuit, he’d never ignored what she was trying to accomplish or how good she was at her job. It’d been the reason she’d never been able to fully shake him. He’d been as frustrated as he’d been fascinated by the cop.

But she didn’t feel up to picking through those layers. Not tonight. “Thank you,” she said simply.

Klaus’ head tipped and his gaze moved along her face. “I am somewhat disappointed that Donovan has chosen to abandon you so fully.”

Caroline’s fingers curled a little tighter around her glass, and she frowned at him. “You’re fishing.”

“I don’t need you to tell me what happened in the precinct, sweetheart. It’s all over your face. For all that you’ve chosen to disavow the packs in the city, you’ve always been a creature that seeks bonds.” Klaus took another pull on the bourbon. “Lockwood is a fool.”

Caroline set her teeth, because she agreed. “Putting a wolf in charge of other wolves is never a good idea.”

Not without a clear cut dominance already in place. Human laws required that they avoid inconvenient things like dominance fights, and she hadn’t been the only wolf to disappear from the force. Mason was strong. But he wasn’t quite strong enough to leash the city. Caroline wasn’t sure he understood that. Her ex-captain was a political beast, and his vision was short sighted.

Her wolf hated him.

Klaus licked along his lower lip, eyes probing. “Rumor has it Lockwood considers himself the Alpha, that he is trying to organize the packs.”

Caroline reached for the tequila. Her hand didn’t shake, but the hot spike of her wolf burned through her in a visceral rejection of such a move. When she glanced back up, Klaus was watching her with eyes gone calculating.

“Mason Lockwood is no one’s alpha. He isn’t strong enough.” Her words were curt.

The curve of his smile was dangerous. “Not for you.”

She shook her head. “He shouldn’t be strong enough for anyone.”

“Why?”

Scowling, Caroline took the shot. “Didn’t I say I didn’t want an interrogation?”

He made a low noise of derision. “This is hardly an interrogation, love. Merely… a conversation. I’d say one between friends, but we’ve never quite managed that, have we?”

“That’s because you’re a delinquent.”

His laugh was loud in the empty bar, the faint creases near his eyes doing unnecessary things to her chest. Dimples flashing, he shrugged. “Be as that may, that is hardly a current impediment.”

“You want to be friends?” The disbelief in her voice wasn’t faked. Caroline wasn’t sure either of them would easily be friends. The casual intimacy of it, the level of trust required for such a thing, it would always try to bleed into more. It was why she’d never let herself interact with him as anything but the cop.

His eyes brightened with the familiar witch fire, irises turning incandescent for a dozen heartbeats. “No.”

They stared at each other, the unspoken heat burning between them. Her wolf wouldn’t let her back down and Klaus had never given her an inch when he could take ground instead. Gaze narrowing, she let a hint of her wolf bleed into the open, the strict restraints of the cop gone. “Why bring me here?”

Something hot moved behind his eyes, a bright flash of the temper he hid behind the thin veneer of charm. “Your pain isn’t for public consumption, Caroline. It’s a private matter, with teeth. I don’t plan to share it.”

Her breath caught in her throat at the rage beneath his words. Her wolf liked that he understood. “I’m not yours to protect.”

He set his bottle down and pressed against the bar. “Not yet.”

Caroline’s gaze narrowed. “Arrogant.”

His dimples creased his cheeks and he shrugged. “Perhaps. But not entirely unfounded. We’ve known each other for ten years now, give or take. And neither my more… suspect activities not your previous profession has managed to cool the draw between us.”

Klaus was right and it was infuriating. There was something about him that tempted her, no matter what she told herself. Letting her wolf out to play, to challenge him, might have been a mistake. But it was no easy thing, to cage what lived beneath her skin. “I’m not even sure I’ll stay in the city.”

It was as close as she’d ever come to lying to him, and the angle of his jaw turned to stone. They stared at each other, tension a near violent thing between them, and she watched, fascinated, as he visibly unlocked his shoulders.

“Where would you go?”

Bemused at his iron restraint, Caroline shrugged. “I don’t know.”

He gave a short nod, the muscles in his jaw jumping. “Why leave at all?”

“If I stay, I become a direct challenge to Mason’s authority. He’s been systematically edging out any wolf strong enough to challenge him. And now, with a police force at his beck and call?” She shook her head slowly even as her wolf stretched its claws beneath her skin.

“If your concern is his influence in the city, that’s easily handled.” A curl of his lip, gaze intent on his face. “You could work for me.”

Caroline snorted, derision clear on her face. “You can’t be serious.”

Both of his brows arched, Klaus seemingly unbothered by her disbelief. “Why not?”

There were dozens of reasons. Working for Klaus would be a risk in more than one area, and she wasn’t sure if it was smart. “You cannot possibly want the extra scrutiny such a move would bring to your... business. Mason already hates you, helping me would not improve things.”

Klaus’ magic sparked across his eyes in tiny, golden starbursts. “Lockwood is going to have enough trouble now that it is clear he’s using the humans to build himself a tiny fiefdom. Picking a fight with me will not be in his best interest, but I do so hope he tries it.”

He meant it.

Staring at him, all Caroline could find was that dangerous calculation that had always fascinated as it had repelled. Fascinated, because Klaus had always been far more comfortable with the monster he’d become than she’d ever dared. Repelled, because the cop, her mother’s legacy, had always demanded she cage those instincts.

Agreeing to his offer would be dangerous.

“Klaus…”

“Caroline.”

The drawl of her name was a challenge. Setting her jaw, she pushed loose tendrils of her hair away from her face. “I’m not saying yes, but what on earth can you possibly expect I’d do?”

Opening his arms, Klaus smiled. “Work here.”

She blinked at him. “You want me to wait tables?”

“I want you to run the place. It needs a manager.”

He really couldn’t be serious. “I thought you didn’t own this bar?”

“A mere technicality.”

Exasperated, Caroline looked at the ceiling for patience. “I’m a cop. That skill set doesn’t exactly translate to managing a business. Much less a bar.”

“Nonsense,” Klaus dismissed. “You’re more than capable of anything you set your mind to, love. Running a bar is hardly the challenge of hunting a killer, true. But perhaps you owe it to yourself to give yourself a breather before you go headlong into your next adventure.”

He meant it. The tense set of his jaw, the way his full lips pressed briefly together. It was mostly impossible to hide a lie from her wolf, and she was cop trained. More importantly, she knew Klaus.

He’d give her this. A reprieve. A moment to find her feet. And maybe he’d even let her walk away. This terrible, fascinating man who held his people and his territory in an iron fist.

For the first time, Caroline wanted to kiss him. To taste that unflinching belief in her on his tongue, to see if he felt as good as he looked. Flexing her fingers against the wood, she forced herself to ignore the burn of want in her veins and think.

She’d loved this city. Caroline had lived as a lone wolf for too many years, watching her human mother age. She’d become a sheriff for her mom, had become a detective because it’d been familiar when she’d needed it. After her mother’s death, she’d walked away from her roots, her life and drifted for a decade. New York City had given her purpose. Klaus was part of that. But now she was cut loose from those ties, all her old human expectations, she knew her wolf would not so easily be pushed aside a third time.

Caroline had no desire to surrender another inch to Mason. Not of her life. Not of her city. And her wolf wanted Klaus. It always had and maybe she owed it to herself to discover why.

Something inside her chest settled, and she huffed to herself as she realized she’d needed this. To know that she wasn’t on her own again and beneath her rage and grief, she could see the start of a plan.

“Are you sure?” Caroline said slowly, glancing at Klaus from beneath her lashes. “I’m pushy. I’m likely to take over everything and claim it as mine, and don’t even get me started on the mess behind you.”

His slow curling smile was satisfied and devious in all the best ways, but he obligingly glanced over his shoulder. “Mess?”

She sighed heavily. “I thought you said you worked in a bar? Who organized the liquor, Klaus, and why did they think this was a good idea?”

A low sound of amusement. “I’m sure you’ll set it to rights.” Caroline rolled her eyes, but her grumpy response was cut off as he braced a hand on the counter between them and leaned forward. His eyes were witch-blue, sparks of gold glittering along his iris. “As for the rest, claim what you will, love. Claim everything, if you like. But don't be surprised if it claims you back.”

Her lips caught his before she’d thought the motion through. His unspoken warning that walking away would be no easy thing mingled with the promise his eyes made every time his gaze caught hers. The taste of his magic on his lips, the low rumble of surprise and want as his hands reached for her, was heady. Pulling away before he could tangle his fingers in her hair, she leaned back just enough that he’d have to follow her over the bar counter to kiss her again.

“Caroline.”

The edge in his voice, the glint behind his eyes left her lips inexplicably curling. Swiping her scarf from the counter, she didn’t bother hiding her amusement.

“Klaus.”

He didn’t chase her, though the slow drag of his tongue across his lips told her he was considering it. Gaze finally narrowing in a clear warning, he tipped his head to the side. “Is that a yes?”

Dragging her teeth along her lower lip just to watch his eyes chase the motion, she shrugged. “It’s a ‘have your people send me their best offer’ and I’ll think about it.”

His dimples teased his cheeks with a smile that was all danger. “I like a challenge, love. Are you sure you want to throw down this particular gauntlet?”

Buttoning her jacket, she shrugged. “I’ll guess we’ll see, won’t we?”

Spinning on her heel, Caroline didn’t let herself turn back, even when his laughter followed her into the snow. Smiling widening, she turned her face up into the falling snow. For the first time since she’d left her precinct without her badge, she could breathe properly.

She should probably avoid letting Klaus know that any time soon.

#kcauweek2019 #my fic #klaroline #klaroline fanfic #klaroline drabble

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