#like him straight up not using the word plagiarism or him throwing his supposed best friend under the bus continually | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

matchamorphosis · 3 years

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𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐙 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐒

・゜ʚɞ ゜・ 𝑎.𝑙𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ʚɞ 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑤𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑦 ・゜ʚɞ ゜・

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 || you’ve been testing ari’s patience and it’s up to him to put you straight— even if it’s going to be your first real punishment.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 || smut with plot

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 || daddy!ari levinson × little![black//woc]fem!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 || 5.7K — oof i’m sorry

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 || 18+ nsfw, ddlg lifestyle and dynamics, daddy kink, extremely bratty reader, big mean daddy!ari, punishment, cursing, spankings, pussy slapping, some steamy scenes, spilt apple juice, a ruined Care Bear’s coloring page, use of nickname: muffin//muffin cake — MINORS DNI || 18+ INTERACTION ONLY —

𝐰. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 || my head was spiraling out of control and I felt bratty + missed my daddy!ari nonnie so I wrote this :): planning on making much more ddlg scenarios like these because they always seem like such a hit and i have so much fun writing them! anyways I hope you cherubs enjoy this! ♡

↬ p.s || do not repost or plagiarize my work on any other fanfic platform such as: wattpad, ao3, tumblr, etc or plagiarize my work all together. do so and i will rip your spine from your scumy asshole and shove it down your talentless throat. ♡♡♡

it all started with a simple question.

the simplest of simple questions you know the right answer to. neverminded the fact that the supreme authority in the house, Ari Levinson, would still call you a big dumb baby if you’d answer correctly.

today was not the best day for you to endure one of your aggressively bratty tantrums he says you’re to old to commit — just as well as it wasn’t the best day for you to exclaim your snappy clever remarks he insisted you’re to little to speak of and understand.

you’re either his big girl or his little girl and no in-between’s.

today ignited something in you, lit a measly match that trailed a kerosene path he didn’t dare think fast enough to put out critically. Ari was too slow to realize the build up and now he’s facing the burning fire that’s practically charring the good nature that was usually your morally-correct actions and behavior.

today you just didn’t feel like being good.

simple as that.

however no matter what you did you wouldn’t win, not on daddy’s watch.

glossy black Mary Janes kick the air in a fiery frenzy, folded arms shielding your face as you sob into the pink fluffy play rug. it’s laying underneath your arts and crafts table and of course your thrashing petite body that’s spiraling in the tantrum.

muffled curses and melodramatic wails fill the pink playroom and the cause of this brat fit was the man at the opposite end of the table. no more than a foot away from you, thick muscled arms crossed over his navy blue polo chest. tapping his foot against the floor impatiently, waiting for your tantrum to end he holds the plastic package of goldfish grahams he took from you.

it wasn’t a good decision to ease your previous brattiness with the brownie baked cookies. of course he couldn’t help but give into your sweet tooth if that meant for you to calm down. although Ari didn’t expect you to finish all the sugary goldfish in your snack bowl in the ten minutes you were out of supervision.

additionally, he didn’t see it coming at all when he left you at that to sip from your juice box and snack on the chocolate goldfish while you colored perfectly in between the bolded lines. all so he could finish some paperwork but not until finding you ten minutes after with the whole package at the account of checking in on you.

the sight of your hand in the bag greedily grabbing the graham goldfishes and shoving them into your mouth was a damn sight to see. even when he secretly hid it in the highest and secret, kept out of eyesight corner of the pantry closet— you somehow retrieved it and smuggled it back in your playroom.

the confiscated, nearly-empty package is now in his fisted grasp. Ari cannot believe the shade of anger and disappointment breaking unknown levels of his calming limits.

words cannot describe the irritation inflaming his mind, you’re suppose to be his good little girl.

his precious little starlet who behaved and acted accordingly but instead he has a brat screaming ass up and face down into the play rug. crying her bug head off because he took your spoiling sugary snack from you that he shouldn’t have given in the first place.

rolling his eyes at the scene in front of him, his blue hues lock on your baby lotion thighs that your tiny purple argyll mini skirt reveals. cotton thigh highs adorned with purple bows at the frilly cuffs that match the small silk ones braided into your hair he helped design, capture his eye.

ever since this morning your attitude has been off and not only did it confuse Ari but it confused you to at first. until you slowly grew into liking the devious part that was hidden inside you for so long that maliciously appeared when you woke up on the naughty side of the bed.

from Ari getting you out of bed, giving you your routine bath, arranging your outfit and getting your hair ready. as well as eating breakfast, you pouted and grumbled the whole time but Ari was still so soft and patient with you. it made your heart gooey but you were craving his mean side.

so after you two got ready and started your separate chores and hobbies for the day, you were slowly working your way to anticipating Ari get mean with you. just like your magic always worked wonders, he did get mean. scolded at you when you were in the middle of reading your book, raising his voice just a slight at you that you did all your chores wrong and haven’t even completed some.

it was scary just for minute that he even had a hint of anger in his voice but damn did you enjoy the wetness in your panties at the same time when he ordered you to do them fully and correctly. until finally what he believed would be the end to your brattiness, nap time arrived.

thankful for it as he started lunch, thinking that when you’d wake up he would recognize his well mannered princess but what he didn’t expect would happen afterwards as he woke you up that you were more crankier than before.

the two of you had your lunch of toasty grilled cheese, thick tomato soup and chicken salad. you were still moody and cranky when you sat down in your pastel chair with the wooden pink painted words of princess displayed on the crest rail.

of course he looked at you as if a mountain troll was stealing his princesses throne because he didn’t recognize the pout pulling at your full glossy lips. the scrunched brows making a dramatic impression that married well with your anger inflicted face that spoiled your pretty facial features.

as much as your daddy thought you looked adorable being cranky, every little thing seemed to tick you off. you had a problem with everything that could either easily be fixed or was out of your hands.

the grilled cheese wasn’t cut in the shapes that you wanted, he placed the cheesy slices in your wrong disney princess plate, you didn’t want to eat your greeny nasty salad, you wanted another cup of sprite. which you were neglected of because ari had a limit set for you from not drinking anything more than the amount your tiny hello kitty cup provided.

and most importantly you wanted to have Lulubelle, your tangerine teddy bear, to eat at the table.

of course he fixed his first two mistakes but you knew better than to argue against and ask for anything that went against the rules. instead of putting you to a corner, he set up another option.

encouraged you to eat your greens to set a good example for your stuffies. replaced the second cup of sprite you wanted with a juice box of your choice and placed Lulubelle on one of the living room couches telling you she will wait for you to finish eating and washing your hands.

but even with those resolutions there were major bumps and outbursts.

you played with your food by smacking your spoon against the soups surface which caused little splatters of red dots across the glossy cherry oak table and grumbled under your breath as you picked off the crust of the grilled sandwich.

flicking it with the swiftness of your two inch acrylics, the pieces landing in Ari’s soup or hair.

it was as if you were set on getting on his nerves because damn right you were.

rolled your eyes and silently mimicked his mouth when he ordered you to stop. deviously giggled when the funny vein on his forehead that only bulged out when he was really mad at you was potentially going to pop out.

a smirk playing your lips when the corner of your eye caught every clench of his fist when you would hit the table leg obnoxiously as you slurped your soup. misbehaved yet did what he ordered you to when you believed his attention was back on his own food.

it was a very long lunch and as much as he thought he was going to snap at you and put you in your time out chair that was rarely used because you never ever acted like this, he left you to wash up as he cleaned up after lunch.

you would normally help him with cleaning the table or giving him any dirty dishes for him to clean when he was busy at the faucet. but he allowed you to run off into the living room and play with your stuffed bear in whatever todays make belief adventure the two of you were on.

cleaning up was easy since he only had to clean the bowls, plates and utensils the two of you ate with but it wasn’t until he started to clean the table did he notice all the soup drops against the cleaning plastic as well as the chunky pieces of lettuce, tomato, and bread crusts under the table around your chair.

Ari was close to exploding, because he taught you better then to throw food and waste it but he gave himself a breath, counted to ten and made sure to make a mental note tonight. after your special cartoon marathon, he’d have a very important talk to you about food waste and how wrong it was.

so after cleaning up and warning the two of you were going to have a talk tonight, he settled you in your playroom since it was a room away from his office. Ari never felt comfortable or secure with leaving you all alone downstairs without someone watching over you.

adjusting and nestling the baby monitor on one of your teddy bears heart strap, he placed the stuffed bear near your arts and crafts table. even if you were glaring at him for doing so, you weren’t a baby. although as usual, your daddy shushed at you and placed a kiss at your temple that made you silent as you pulled out your coloring books from your big wooden weaved basket with a grumble.

Ari knew you despised the baby monitor but he made it a priority to place it near you at all times when he wasn’t near. even if the meeting was only going to be around fifteen minutes, your daddy wasn’t going to narrow down the possibilities of something going wrong.

after settling your desired snacks when you remind him that it’s snack time, Ari settled your juice box that he already pierced the straw through the tin foiled hole and your brownie goldfish in your hello kitty snack bowl halfway. checked his watch knowing he had to attend the virtual meeting in less than a few minutes.

kneeling down at your level as you munched on the fish shaped cookies and colored in a fluffy cloud a Care Bear was sleeping on. pulled you into a hug and pressed a kiss to your temple, “Daddy is going to be working in his office princess. can you behave like a good girl until daddy’s done with his meeting?”

the smile that was on your face disappeared, you didn’t want daddy to go and leave you alone!

I mean what was more important than sitting and watching you color? have you feed him the chocolatey goldfish and draw pretty sparkly hearts and shooting stars for him?

“Daddy I don’t want you to go! can the work wait?” you whine but Ari shook his head with a sigh, standing up to your dismay. peering down at you as you glare up at him.

“no the work can’t wait, muffin. it’ll only be twenty minutes and after Daddy does the work he’ll be back here. helping you color a page from your coloring book, how does that sound?” the soft lowness of his voice didn’t leave room for you to bite back an aggression but only nod.

“yes Daddy I would really like that.” Ari smiled to himself at that, thinking that your brattiness has finally come to an end as he left your room.

oh how wrong he was when he arrived back once the meeting was over.

Ari literally caught you with your hand in the cookie jar and you didn’t even look ashamed at all. not stuttering trying to explain your faultless contribution to this crime-like action.

to add onto the shock, when he snatched the bag just full of five goldfishes and crumbs did you start to cry and spiral into you tantrum even when he said nothing yet.

now we are here five minutes later.

with Ari looking down at your still continuing tantrum but noticing it’s lessening with your kicks and whines.

the only thing he feels is disappointment.

not only were you ruining your chances of watching the annual cartoon marathon the cable TV’s going to premiere later on tonight— that he allowed you to stay up to after relentless begs and your good behavior from previous weeks before — but you completely spoiled your appetite for dinner.

your favorite meal he made specially to go along with the cartoon marathon but now watching your tantrum become even more relentless Ari is confirming that you most definitely will not participate in it. maybe even cut your day short once you complete your night routine after dinner and make you head straight to bed.

“are you done being a brat now?” Ari, you’re soft daddy bear snapped viciously.

however you’re still letting out whines and sniffs as you reveal your red teary eyes from the carpet. the sight of them makes him want to drop the bag, kneel down and scoop you in his arms. kiss your face and tell you he’s sorry that he took the cookies away from you, but he can’t.

Ari cannot let this tantrum slide and give you what you want no matter how much it hurts his heart he isn’t trying to calm you down himself in the security and warmth of his arms around his little one.

he needs to put his foot down.

and it serves him right, because once latching your eyes on your mean Daddy’s austere blues you grab your white tiger stuffie nearby. covering your tear stricken face within the faux white fur with a gritted and bratty hmph!

it was infuriating how your Daddy had to take all the things you wanted away from you. obviously you didn’t have a say in anything cause you were suppose to be his good girl but why continue to act good now when you know you’re Daddy is going to ruin the only thing that you’ve been anticipated since the beginning of December?

today approximately around eight o’clock on the dot the big people channel you were forbidden to watch from was going to premiere all your favorite holiday cartoons. The Powerpuff Girls, Scooby Doo, Charlie Brown, Looney Tunes, and the various vintage episodes of nostalgic Mickey Mouse.

if all went wrong as you went down with your ship you could watch some of the holiday issued tapes of Strawberry Shortcake and Winnie the Pooh on your vcr but it wasn’t as often you would have access to the other cartoon specials you enjoyed premiering their limited episodes at the touch of a remote and Ari knows this!

your big mean Daddy knows how much you’ve been looking forward to it but he’s probably going to instead send you off to your secluded bed in the separate room he sends you to when he was to furious to have you sleep with him in your shared big king bed after dinner.

belly full of your favorite food that’s going to stir badly in your stomach as you shift under your warm covers restless because it wouldn’t be your goddamn bedtime. only having the single company of your golden fairy nighty nightlight and the only stuffie he’d allow you to cuddle for the night.

it makes you want to explode because you know how this is going to end but you’re head is to tired to even say anything in retaliation or beg him not to reconsider.

but maybe… if you think up something quick to throw him off it’ll buy you enough time to behave and show him you could be good.

even though you screamed all the naughty no-no words Ari would have you over his lap in a second if you even thought of them. throat sore and red eyes stinging from crying so damn much and rubbing your closed eyelid fiercely against the play rug and stuffie.

a plan is concocting in your mind, nothing devious but it will have its dose of your witty pettiness and unholy brattiness.

daddy won’t suspect a thing, you thought as you stopped your sniffs and cries.

wiped your tears with the cashmere sleeve of your cropped lavender cardigan as you got up from your sprawled position. patted your argyle patterned skirt down to smooth out any wrinkles and got back to work on the arts and crafts table.

and your plan is beginning to work because it does take Ari by surprise when you get up from your pathetic little position. the purple argyle skirt now fully covering your bum, he knows you’re ignoring his stern stare when you scoot your knees back to the small crafts table.

continuing to color from your coloring book as if nothing happened.

Ari scoffs to himself, what kind of mind game were you playing on him?

“what do you think you’re doing muffin?” Ari spoke and for once you stare back at him. eyes slightly red as evidence of your crying, they’re calm now as they meet his.

“nothing Daddy, i’m just coloring,” you spoke, the crayon in your hand shading in a midnight sky. Ari continues to stare down until he takes the crayon from you— but what he doesn’t expect is that when he snatches the crayon from you he accidently knocked over your apple juice box.

the mellow yellowish liquid spills onto your crayon box, containing the limited edition colors you prized. soaking your beloved coloring tools with the sticky juice; it made your bottom lip tremble as you quickly grab the slightly soggy box. you let out a whine as you feel tears spring in your eyes.

the unintentional incident and your heartbroken state almost has Ari yet again stumbling to fix what wasn’t really his fault. leaving the room to get paper towels and a cleaning spray.

coming to terms with this, you’re surprised to find the casualty of your crayons diverting the attention away from you and onto something else.

maybe if you kept this up, eight o’clock would come and he’d have nothing else to do then allow you to have your cartoon marathon.

you thought as you tapped a single finger to your peachy cheek in thought.

all you had to do was put him in situations that would conflict him into think it was initially his fault therefore guilting him into giving you what you wanted!

then you’d be set on the living room rug with a plate of your favorite food on your lap. a stuffie at your hip and looking up at the tv as the credits for the first cartoon of the night rolled in.

quickly finding some Lysol wipes and tissues in the playroom you clean up the mess and the cardboard crayon box as Ari’s loud footsteps come closer and closer.

swiftly disposing them in the craft trash basket and settled in your cushion seat before he arrived in the doorway with his arms full of cleaning supplies. when Ari stepped back into the room he was surprised to find you already cleaned up the mess and properly sitting as you continued coloring.

twirling a braided lock of purple silk bowed hair around your finger. figuratively showing how much you were controlling those dominant Daddy instincts of his he wasn’t going to have you get your way.

you still need to come to terms of all the wrongs you committed today and if all goes well he’d decide if you could attend to that cartoon marathon. “muffin?” Ari spoke and on que your head lifts up, your pearly white smile so tender and innocent as if you weren’t messing with mind to get whatever you wanted.

meaning excuse all the trouble you got yourself into.

“yes Daddy?” voice soft and perky as you settle the crayon on the table, he catches you sitting up straighter. elbows resting on the table and arms pressing close to your chest to pronounce your plump cleavage the top three un-buttoned piece of your cardigan displayed.

the delicious sight has him licking his lips, wanting to throw you over his shoulder with the loud and rough slaps to your ass and take you to your room. throwing you on the bed and rip every little piece of clothing off of you.

—but that’s what you want him to do, you want to have him distracted from the task at hand. especially when the task is putting you in your place and marginalizing your chances of watching the night special of holiday cartoons.

“what do brats get?” that question has you dropping your eyes from his to stare blankly at the coloring book and lined arrange of crayons in front of you.

did you want to answer him correctly or did you not want to answer at all?

the options where bouncing in your head but you didn’t realize Ari’s still waiting for you to answer when you ignored the question. picking up a crayon and colored in a Care Bear as if he didn’t ask you anything at all.

“muffin are you listening to me?” Ari sighs, tone no longer the softness as a few minutes ago and no longer bearing the same patience as before.

it doesn’t match your inattentive focus, you’re still coloring and teasing him. the sleeve of the tight periwinkle cardigan slipping off your shoulder, showing more of your rich skin that Ari wants to kiss and mark with his lips.

shaking his head out of it, telling himself that he was the adult and you were the brat and he was going to— no matter how much you were going to cry — discipline you into obedience and get his well behaved muffin back.

“i’m going to count to three and if-” he’s cut off when you roll your eyes on him, catching his voice in his mouth like a frog in his throat. Ari’s conflicted entirely and pissed entirely because you’ve never rolled your eyes at him, ever.

so as you persisted to ignore Ari, scribbling one of your multi colored crayons, you have a pink one in your hand. shading in a heart and an idea shines like a lightbulb above his head.

without any warning his large hands snatch the coloring book from under your grasp. the pale purple crayon in your small hand that was once shading in Share Bears fur runs along the whole paper. the sudden climax of running colored wax against moving paper, shocking you to a gasp.

an offended wail excludes from your mouth but Ari is too pissed to feel sympathetic. getting up he holds the coloring book he bought for you during the weekend above his head. somewhat enjoying and taking pleasure as you stand up on your tippy toes and jump to retrieve it with fail.

indeed taking pleasure as he stares down at your full tits bouncing in your comfortable tube top that’s underneath the cardigan. loving your cries and whines as you beg him to give your coloring book back.

eyeing your tiny delicious figure that's far too small to reach the skyscraper height that holds your beloved Care Bears coloring book. it made Ari’s heart melt when you hugged and pressed your kisses all over his bearded face when he gifted you it some day ago but he never thought he’d enjoy taking it away from you.

right now he has to put you in your place and ignore the tightness in his pants to deal with later. “Daddy you ruined my drawing!” your sobs and whimpers proclaim, continuing to jump as your cries became louder and tears become more present.

“you didn’t answer Daddy’s question little one,” he hissed and with that your cries come to an end to just reveal a glare then a smirk.

quitting your attempts of retrieving the coloring book you turn around and walk away. a slight hypnotic flow of your hips and curves making Ari’s eyes train to the plump assets.

“what was the question again?” you sighed tiredly, encouraging the deadly glare your Daddy has on you.

a yawn overcoming you as you hovered your hand over your mouth that makes Ari scoff. glossy lips still bearing cookie crumbs at the corners you stretched, you lick them off and you bite your lip at him.

mocking him in your divine rebelliousness.

letting out little high pitched noises as you arched your back with your hands twined together above your head. again, to emphasize your cleavage, “would it just go in one ear and out the other or would you actually listen and answer like a good girl?” Ari seethed.

you stand there and register it and of course you were heading off the direction you want but maybe you can turn the tables on him. “i’ll be a good girl Daddy, I promise i’ll listen,” voice soft and assured.

Ari cocks his head to the side at that promise, quirking a brow but not breaking the stare he has on his precious angel that’s playing the devil. he’ll put that promise to the test, walking around the small yet wide arts and crafts table he finally stands in front of you.

making you heart thump louder and louder with each step he takes.

crouching down on his knees to face you at your eye level, Ari sees the devilish twinkle in your starlight eyes. waiting for him to ask the question he knows you can answer correctly.

“what do brats get?”

his stern and mean face that always makes you stutter on your own words and trip over your own feet clashes with yours.

of course you can answer correctly, you can but you can’t believe how fun and thrilling it is with not just your growing ego but the wetness growing in between your legs. soaking your lace panties when your hands lift up to trace his bulging biceps through the short sleeved polo.

“treats?”

you whisper, before your hand goes to grasp the bulge of his trousers that he lets out a pleasured hiss. before you can smirk he’s slapping your hand off his trouser covered cock.

and in a blitz of a second you’re squeaking out a squeal as Ari grabs you by your arm. dragging you to the rocking chair resting near your bookshelves of thick hardcover storybooks and sits in the cushion seat before throwing you over his lap.

whines and cries getting louder when Ari lifts up the tiny argyle skirt to reveal your ass. tummy squirming against his lap he pulls gently at your hair to lift it up.

“keep squirming and i’ll add another five to the twenty you already have,” he hisses but you still can’t believe everything has lead to this.

Daddy never gave you spankings.

never gave you physical punishments before but as much as you were despising the situation you can’t believe how your slicked core is getting wetter with each second that’s passing. with your Daddy’s large hands caressing your ass cheeks and those thick fingertips teasing your pussy’s slit.

“you’re going to count each spank I give you and after each spank I want you to thank me. no whines, no crying just ‘thank you Daddy’. do you understand me?”

Ari’s deep low voice above you rumbling your core like thunder on a dark stormy night. only leaving you to whimper in fear as you nod but were caught off guard when he landed a loud swift slap! to your ass. causing you to gasp in pain.

“yes!” you cried but squirmed when he chuckled down at you. leaving you wandering what you did wrong before he landed another spank to the same cheek. causing you to cry out and feeling the honey of your pussy drench your inner thighs.

“what was that? did you even listen to your Daddy?” he hissed as another rough spank crashed onto your ass, “what do you fuckin say?” he practically roared, leaving more tears to drop down the landscape of your dewy face.

“one! thank you daddy!” you wail pathetically, tears soaking your cheeks, you knew your Daddy is doing what was best for you but you couldn’t help but want to squirm away from his grasp.

catching you doing so he grips your neck in his grasp. “don’t you fuckin run from me now muffin, you acted like a brat so i’m gonna treat you like a fucking brat. we have one down and nineteen to go, don’t disappoint me,” Ari seethed before grasping your panties and pulling them off you.

by pulling off he ripped them at the area that covered your ass, marveling at the wetness of not just the panties but your pussy as well. “my muffin got worked up misbehaving? you get your dumb cunt wet when you disrespect Daddy’s authority?” he murmurs.

stuttering and attempting to answer the words become inaudible once your lips part at the calloused hands of Ari’s. soaked panties in his hold, he shoves them into your mouth. making you taste your own sweetness as he licks his own fingers from your honey and moans at the tangy palette.

“I thought we established no talking, you really are just a stupid little girl,” as much as his words sprung tears in your eyes you couldn’t help but feel your core burn. clenching your thighs together as result he darkly chuckles at the pathetic action.

his hands grip your thighs to forcibly split them apart, “oh muffin cake don’t distract Daddy now,” he darkly chuckles and before you now it a loud and swift slap hits your wet pussy. making you cry out in pain that’s slowly growing into pleasure.

“you’ve done enough of that for today. right now Daddy’s gonna have to punish you,” his hand that’s still at your cunt rubs it.

the slick of your wetness sounding off creating an erotic echo in the room and just like that he’s slapping your small wet pussy with his rough hand again.

“and no matter how much you cry or squirm or beg me to stop I want you to handle it like the big girl I know you can be. do you understand me?” his growl overcoming your muffled pained whimpers and moans as you feverishly nod your head up and down.

pulling the panties out of your mouth you nod your head, “yes Daddy, I understand,” you whimper after a few hiccups.

you can’t see the smirk plastered on his face but you can see his risen hand in the air from the corner of your dress up hand mirror. angled on the floor to capture the moment, shuddering when it disappears from the mirrors image you feel the rough spank at your cheek.

not as rough and angry as the first three but still enough that it stings tremendously, “two, thank you Daddy,”

“that’s what I like to hear muffin,” Ari smirks before getting back to work.

your Daddy continued to give you your deserved spankings, your ass bruised and sore by the time he was finished and was satisfied with each one you counted and thanked him for.

praised you for not squirming even when you wanted to as he covered your ass with the thin material of your skirt.

“you did so well muffin cake. handled and took your punishment like the good girl I knew you could be,” he whispered lovingly in your ear m as he carried you to both your shared bedroom to rub some soothing lotion on your sore bum.

“thank you Daddy. I-i’m so sorry I was so bad today,” you whimpered as chocked hiccups become more unbearable. eyes swelling up with tears and a little sob erupting from your mouth. Ari shushes it by taking your face in his hands and pressing a kiss to your lips.

“it’s okay baby, I promise everything is okay. no matter how bad you act always know, always know that Daddy still loves you. i’ll always love you muffin cake, that’s forever.” those soft blue hues lace with yours and you truly do feel at ease.

nodding your head at his soft supportive assertion, his forehead pressed to yours and your noses rubbing tenderly against each other. making you giggle and he grins as he laughs with you before setting you down on the bed.

Ari rubs the soothing cold lotion against your bum, continuing to shower you with divine praises, sweet appreciations and heart warming adorations that made your peachy cheeks sore from your never-ending smile.

afterwards he gently carries you in his arm downstairs heading to the living room. telling you how you and him were going to fix the coloring page he ruined as snuggle you face into his neck. large bunny stuffie in you locked armed connection he settles you down on the couch.

grabbing the fluffy throw blanket draped on one of the other couches he grabs it and wraps your lower half in it. giggling as he tucks it around your sides to make sure you’re nestled nice and warm, pressing a kiss to your temple.

Ari glances down to his watch with a soft smile, clutching the remote on the coffee table he turns the TV on.

smirking at your confusion when he goes on the channel that’s minutes away from airing the cartoon marathon.

“Daddy what are you doing?” your hushed voice catches his ears, Ari turns his head over his shoulder at you looking up at him with those conflicted doe eyes.

“i’m letting my muffin watch her cartoons. Daddy knows you’ve been waiting a month to watch them and daddy knows his princess deserves it,” his soft smile only but eludes your guiltiness.

“but i’ve been really bad today. b-bad girls don’t get TV time. they don’t get to watch cartoons,” you sob as tears began to fall once more but they’re quickly wiped away at Ari’s warm hands, cooing you into calming down.

“Daddy knows you’ve been bad today, but you proved to Daddy that you were good at handling your punishment. bad girls don’t get TV time, you’re right, but bad girls who take their punishments well and understand what they did wrong get TV time. because they’re no longer bad girls,” he smiles and you smile as well, leaning in for a kiss he accepts.

“there’s only a couple of minutes left before the premiere starts. Daddy’s gonna be in the kitchen starting dinner, if you need anything just call Daddy’s name out okay?” he whispers and you nod your head, shifting attentively on the couch to get into a comfortable position.

smiling to yourself as you pull your bunny plushie closer when the commercials end and the beginning credits to How The Grinch Stole Christmas starts to roll in.

you come to a solid conclusion.

no matter how you get in your bratty fits that your Daddy is going to forever love you. and no matter how stern Daddy is and how angry you are at him, you’re forever going to love him.

and no spanking or ruined drawing is ever going to change that!

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onthepageoftears · 4 years

Text

Kill Your Darlings Ch. 17 (Jaskier x Assassin!Reader) || Witcher

A/N: Long chapter is long. This was actually supposed to be longer, but I decided to split the rest of it into next chapter, so next chapter will be longer as well. Pretty sure this series will be 20 chapters, so we only have 3 left! Can you believe it?? There may be more of this series after it’s over though, but we’ll have to see if people want more when it’s over...;)

Your comments and feedback are always encouraged and mean a lot to me!

Summary: The truth is slowly unraveling.

Warnings: language, gore, graphic violence, mentions of kidnapping/murder/adultery, insinuations of child abuse (very lightly insinuated), some pining, a little angst, and a heaping cup of comfort :)

Words: 3,906

Please Don’t Plagiarize My Work!

The sun was still high in the sky by the time the three of you found the place from the note. To be honest, you didn’t actually know the place from the note was a bandit camp until you made it to the road and saw a group of bandits walking through the woods. Well, more like Geralt saw them and made you and Jaskier follow him as he trailed them from a distance, beckoning all of you over to a hill that lay a safe enough distance away from the camp.

As you and Geralt surveyed from the small hilltop, Jaskier’s nervous chatter clouded any chance you had at making a plan.

“Are you sure this is a good idea? Attacking in the day? What if they see us?”

Your eyes were dark when you turned to him, “Who says we don’t want them to?”

That got him quiet. It also gave enough time for you and Geralt to watch over the scene before you, silently coming up with your own strategies.

This camp was larger than the last one. More spread out. But that didn’t mean anything to you, other than the fact that there was more room to fight.

Though the camp was bigger, there weren’t too many guards on the perimeter — but, unlike the last camp, there were multiple entrances, and enough men to guard them.

Finally, Geralt spoke, “Three guards at the front entrance, only two in the back.”

“Take the ones in the back out, there’s a clear opening to sneak inside.”

Jaskier looked between you and Geralt, his disbelief clear on his face, “Y/N, you are not going in there like last time.”

You smirked at his protective tone, which might have annoyed you before. You nodded, “I know.” Jutting your head to the bandits near the back of the camp, you turned to the bard. “One of em’ has a bow.”

Jaskier blinked, then squinted to see that you were right.

Despite the obvious protest on Jaskier’s face, you and Geralt snuck down to the back of the camp, where the two guards were idly standing by. Geralt wordlessly gestured for you to take the smaller man, and when you widened your eyes in protest, all Geralt did was look pointedly at your leg. You rolled your eyes, but complied anyway.

Geralt grabbed the man closest to the two of you, knocking him in the head with the end of his sword. You didn’t bother being so modest — just as the second guy was turning around, you threw one of your knives, hitting him right in his jugular. He gurgled as he fell to the ground, and Geralt glared at your actions before rushing over to pull his body out of view. You shrugged when he handed you your knife and the bandit’s bow and pack of arrows, ignoring the careful glare he was sending you.

You regrouped on the hill with Jaskier, keeping an eye on the camp as you did so. No one seemed to notice the missing bandits — at least, not yet.

“The note I have made Hotch seem important.” You dropped the arrows to the ground beside you, then tested the bow’s strength and stretched the string carefully. It was pretty nice, despite its quality.

“He’s probably the leader.”

“Exactly. And the leader would probably have the nicest tent with the guards outside.” You drew their attention to the tent that sat in the middle of the camp, two guards on either side of the closed entrance.

“How do we know he’s in there?” Jaskier spoke, his voice just above a whisper.

“We don’t,” you said, biting your lip. “But that’s our best guess. So we should start from the outside and clear the perimeter until someone notices. Then Geralt will have to swing his way through, and we hope we have enough arrows to help."

“Works for me,” Geralt said, already standing up to go. “I’ll start from the back and work my way around. Only shoot the ones who are hidden as well.”

You nodded, then turned back to Jaskier as Geralt walked back towards the camp. It would be easier if Jaskier went back to guard the horses, keeping him out of trouble and leaving you to your…business. “Jaskier, you should go—“

“No. I’m staying with you.”

You frowned at his defiant tone. “Jaskier—“

“No.” Jaskier sighed when he noticed the surprise in your eyes. “I know why you needed to be away from me for Joneta. You didn’t want to be alone, you wanted to be—“ He stopped himself when he saw your eyes were wider. “It doesn’t matter. But right now, I’m staying with you.”

You blinked, your voice smaller than usual, “Why?”

“Because I…care”

You tried to ignore the heat that rose to your skin at his words, especially since Geralt was almost at the edge of the camp. You didn’t know what answer you thought he would give, but it wasn’t that. You let in a sharp breath, not knowing what to say. After a second, you settled on simple, “Okay.”

Turning away from the bard, you readied an arrow in the bow and stretched your arm back, simultaneously ignoring the way Jaskier’s eyes trailed over your body. You pushed down the feeling in your stomach even as you noticed Jaskier lick his lips and quickly turn away, trying desperately to focus on the task at hand. Maybe you thought Jaskier being by the horses would keep him safe, but it would also keep you less distracted.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and focused on Geralt, who had managed to take out two of the bandits that lingered outside. Your eyes narrowed as he snuck by some of the tents, probably to see if any bandits were inside. He was about to check one tent when a bandit emerged from another, forcing him to slip through the tent’s opening. You followed the bandit with your eyes, making sure to keep him in your range of fire.

The bandit yawned and stretched — he looked like he was talking when he walked over to the tent beside his, where Geralt was currently hiding.

“Shit,” Jaskier breathed, his eyes on the same place as yours.

You kept target steady, “Any bandits near that one?”

“Uh…no. No, none.”

“Good.” With a deep breath in, you released the string from your fingers, causing the arrow to soar through the air and sink right into the bandit’s skull.

Jaskier’s eyes were back on you, “Holy shite.”

You hid a smirk as Geralt dragged the bandit’s body into the tent, already readying your bow with another arrow.

Though you and Geralt were far apart, you worked in near perfect understanding. Silent nods were often used when you fought together the last time, but even without the visual confirmations, you two seemed to read each other’s minds. Geralt would sneak up to two bandits who were sharing a meal, and you would wordlessly shoot the opposite one with an arrow as Geralt choked the other one out. It was working well, with you two getting through a good amount of the guards — but of course, that working system would have to end.

Geralt was currently choking yet another bandit — as he kept sneaking around the camp, more bandits seemed to show up. It was like when one went down, another sprung from the dirt. Up until then, Geralt was able to isolate them and take them out one at a time; to your dismay, another bandit happened to be nearing where Geralt was, where he would be in clear view of the witcher.

You reached down, only then realizing there were no more arrows. You turned your gaze back to where Geralt was —

“We’ve got trouble here!” The bandit’s voice was loud enough for you and Jaskier to curse in unison — Geralt had been spotted.

As you watched the scene below, you cursed to your self again. With a grunt, you pushed yourself to your feet, “We have to go down there.”

“What?” Jaskier grabbed your arm, his eyes wild, “No, no we don’t!”

“Yes, we do.”

“We aren’t going in there. Geralt can handle himself—“

“Jaskier.” You put your hands on the bard’s shoulders so he would look you in the eyes, “Trust me.”

After a moment, Jaskier rolled his eyes with a huff, slinging one of your arms over his shoulder, steadying you as the two of you descended the hill. When you got the bottom, you and Jaskier snuck into the camp while Geralt continued to fight the bandits that were surrounding him.

You and Jaskier shoved yourselves behind a group of barrels, just far enough that you could practically feel the swings of swords and slashes of skin. It made you want to just rush right into the battle, despite your wounds — but Jaskier’s worried gaze on you kept you back, kept you grounded. Your eyes searched wildly around you, landing on a body nearby.

Without a word, you crawled the short distance and wrenched the crossbow that was in the dead body’s hands. The body had a couple of arrows — not enough to take out all the bandits, but enough to help Geralt a little bit.

You positioned yourself over the barrels in front of you, using the surface to keep your shots steady. Jaskier crouched beside you, holding a hand on the small of your back to keep you upright as your leg was laid straight to the side, previously throwing off your balance. As his touch shot fire up your skin, you pulled back the bowstring and lined up your shot with a bandit who was swinging a mace at Geralt’s head.

“Argh!” The bandit fell to the ground, screaming in pain as he flailed to try and rip the arrow from his now punctured back. You barely flinched as he did so, only focusing on reloading the bow.

Geralt seemed to notice the two of you had moved, as he was purposefully shifting his body so he could face your direction. The bandits didn’t notice your location yet, which was an advantage for the three of you. You continued to shoot arrows at the ones surrounding Geralt, taking them out as quickly as you could.

Of course, that wouldn’t last either.

“Shit,” Jaskier cursed when he noticed you were out of arrows. He whipped his head around the two of you, looking for something — anything, to help. Meanwhile, you had already tried to stand up to go help Geralt.

“No.” Jaskier pulled you back down, his concerned gaze beating your frown. “Wait here. I’ll be back.”

You would have argued, but he was already sneaking off in the opposite direction. Your heart was pounding as soon as he left your sight, the worst ideas of what was happening to him popping into your head. At the sound of a frustrated grunt from Geralt, you shook the thoughts from your head, instead unsheathing your knives and aiming to throw them at any bandits close enough.

You had just reached for your last knife when a hand gripped your shoulder, “Here.”

You gasped in relief when you saw it was only Jaskier, who had returned with a handful of arrows.

Almost as soon as the relief filled your features, you narrowed your eyes at the bard, “Trying to get yourself killed?”

He only smiled. “For you? Anything.” You rolled your eyes, despite the way your stomach flipped. But Jaskier smiled wider, “What? I can’t be reckless too?”

You shook your head, instead focusing on reloading the crossbow.

You and Geralt took down a couple more bandits before you realized the guards from outside the main tent were gone. Geralt seemed to notice too — he sent you a look before he slashed his way towards the tent, hopefully going to stop them before they could get Hotch out of there.

There were still some bandits that could get in the way, but not too many that you couldn’t take them on yourself. The only way Geralt could make sure Hotch was still in the tent without getting ambushed was—

“Don’t do it.” Jaskier was looking at you, his warning glare making you bite your lip. How did he know what you were thinking?

You rolled your eyes,“Any better ideas?”

“Yes, actually.”

Before you knew what he was doing, he jumped up from behind the barrels and brought his fingers to his lips, erupting a sharp whistle that had the remaining three bandits whipping their heads in Jaskier’s direction.

“Use the barrels,” he said out of the corner of his mouth before he once again ran the opposite way. You would’ve laughed at his wimpy screech if not for the angry bandits that were running your way. Instead, you shifted your body and pushed one of the barrels out from in front of you, making two of the bandits trip over it and slam their faces in the ground. The last one stopped in time, and just as he made eye contact with you, you grabbed the crossbow off the ground and shot the last arrow right into his smug face.

Without another breath, you unsheathed your last knife and stabbed into the back of the other two bandit’s heads.

You were breathing heavily in your spot by the time Jaskier sauntered back into the now quiet camp.

Your eyes raised to his in a glare, “I thought you didn’t want me fighting? With my wounded leg?”

“Oh, come on. You were thirsting for the thrill of the fight the whole time.”

He was right, of course. Regardless of the throbbing in your leg, the adrenaline pumping through your veins was worse than any addiction you could have.

Still, you wanted to be mad at him.

You tilted your head to the side, “And what if I just let them get you?”

All he had to do was raise his eyebrows at you — you wouldn’t.

“Whatever,” you said, pushing yourself off the ground to collect your knives from wherever they had ended up on the mini battlefield.

Jaskier was helping you up from retrieving your last knife when the main tent’s entrance flipped open.

Geralt emerged from the tent, his face softening ever so slightly when he saw you. He sent you a curt nod and headed back inside, making you take a deep breath in. It was finally time to figure out what the hell was going on. It was time to know the truth.

“Are you ready?” Jaskier asked, his hand hovering over your lower back.

You nodded and followed after the witcher.

The tent was definitely nice. Well, besides the two dead bandit-guards that Geralt so neatly stacked in the corner, and the mess of a struggle. But before the three of you got there, you were sure it was a lovely space. A nice cot, a table full of newly shined weapons — someone had to call this place home at one point or another.

Geralt had already taken the liberty of tying the leader up, but left his mouth free to curse obscenities at you as you walked in.

“What the fuck do you want? Killing all my men—“

“Hotch, is it?” You stepped forward, crossing your arms over your chest. “A pleasure.”

“I’ll show you a pleasure—“ His scowl quickly turned into furious surprise as Jaskier stepped into the tent behind you. “You!”

“Normally my presence doesn’t emit that much hatred, but okay.” Jaskier’s playful tone almost made you smirk, but you kept your stone cold glare on the man on the ground. He nearly seethed at the sight of Jaskier, making a shiver go down your spine.

“You filthy prick, you insolent—I outta kill you right now, you scum of—“

“Enough!” You grabbed a sword off the table beside you, swiftly placing it under Hotch’s chin. You had enough of his venomous words, and to be honest, hearing him talk about Jaskier like that made your blood boil. Predictably, he shut up once the blade with under his throat.

You spoke slowly, “What do you want with the bard?”

“I want nothing.”

Hotch spit towards Jaskier. You rolled your eyes at his theatrics, pressing the blade closer to his skin, “Why did you hire an assassin to kill him?”

“I did no such—“ You reminded him of the blade that trailed on his skin. It took a second for him to respond, but his words were spoken through gritted teeth, “He slept with my wife.”

You blinked, your face in scrunched up in confusion, “He what?”

Hotch sighed. His eyes glazed over as he dramatically recounted the memory, “She worked at an inn. I knew she was working late one night, so I went to visit her. And her boss pointed me to that pricks room. I caught them in the act.”

“Oh.” Jaskier’s voice interrupted, “Oh! That was…rather embarrassing. Marion, was it?”

Hotch only gritted his teeth harder.

You turned and looked at Jaskier over your shoulder, who was cringing at the murderous glare Hotch sent him. He fixed his gaze on you with wide eyes, quickly plastering on a guilty smile and lifting his shoulders in a meek shrug. Before you could whack him over the head, you turned back towards Hotch.

With a sigh, you tilted the man’s chin up higher. “Worked? As in no longer does, as in is no longer alive?”

The bandit leader’s eyes looked away from yours in shame, “I tried to forgive her. To forget. But I couldn’t bear the sight of her face any longer after I found them."

You surprised yourself with a dry laugh, “He slept with your wife. So you killed her.” You tilted your head to the side, narrowing your eyes, “Hardly seems rational.”

“You don’t understand. I couldn’t get the scene out of my head. Even now, it haunts me every night. The betrayal. And seeing his posters everywhere, it only made it worse.”

You pursed you lips as you tried to read the man at your mercy. Even if he released the information rather quickly, it seemed like he was telling the truth — and his anger for Jaskier was definitely real. But that meant that Rauf had been fooled, somehow. This man broke the code of the fellowship, and fro that, you wanted to get more out of him.

The bard’s voice cut through the silence, “If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t know she was married.”

“Jaskier.” Geralt sent a warning glare from behind Hotch.

“Right.”

Once Jaskier predictably shrunk backwards at Geralt’s tone, you decided to continue questioning, “We found your note at another smaller camp. The note was about a little girl.” You squinted your eyes, “What did you want with her?”

“Why should I tell you?”

Jaskier spoke before you could, “Because there is quite literally a sword under your chin.”

You shrugged when Hotch clenched his jaw and glared at you.

Fortunately he complied, “The assassin hasn’t been successful. Obviously.” Hotch’s eyes darkened, “I thought I would take it into my own hands to ruin his life.”

“Ruin his life?”

Hotch smirked, “What would make people hate him more than thinking he took a little girl for his own pleasure.”

Your back stiffened at the realization of his words, “You sick, sick fuck.” You pressed the sword harder into his throat, causing a trickle of blood to fall down his neck, “If you touched a hair on that little girl’s head—“

“We didn’t.” The leader smiled wider despite the steel against his skin. He looked at Jaskier. “He did.”

Your chest was heaving now from anger. Rationally, you knew Lilla was okay. You had saved her, after all. But the smug smile on Hotch’s face made you want nothing more than to bash his skull in and watch the blood mix with the forest floor.

Your eyes flicked to Geralt’s, who sent you a single nod. Without hesitating, you swung your arm back and slashed into the bandit leader’s neck.

“Oh, oh gods.”

Ripping the sword from Hotch’s neck, you brought it back up and swung harder, making sure to make a clean cut through this time.

You breathed heavily as you watched Hotch’s head detach from his body and fall to the floor, his eyes still open in surprise. Dropping the sword to the floor, you wiped your forehead with the back of your hand, not realizing you smeared the blood that was already there. With a final huff, you turned around and pushed past the bard on your way out of the tent.

—

You were sitting on a tree log in the middle of the camp, cleaning off your knives, when Jaskier found you.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.”

“No, I don’t think you are.” He sat down carefully beside you, as if you might swing the knife you were holding and slash his throat. Obviously, you didn’t. Otherwise he wouldn’t be talking.

“If you’re mad that I slept with that woman—“ Your glare stopped him from continuing.

“I’m not mad you slept with that woman. I’m mad that you almost got yourself killed for it.”

You turned away from the bard and closed your eyes with a deep breath. You honestly didn’t know if that was the full truth. There were so many emotions flowing through your body that you couldn’t focus on one, not like usual.

And Jaskier’s presence wasn’t helping either.

“Here.”

His voice made you turn back towards him, where he had taken out a handkerchief. You watched as he wet the cloth with his tongue and gently took your chin in his other hand, leaning forward to clean off the blood that you didn’t even know was on your face.

As he concentrated on cleaning your skin, your heart was nearly bursting out of your chest. He was so close to you — and not only in proximity. Not long ago you were like Hotch: counting down the moments until you could see this bard dead at your feet. Now, you were worrying that this same man could hear your rapid heartbeat whenever he was near.

I want to kiss him. You thought, but immediately backtracked. Kiss him? What were you, stupid? You just heard about him unknowingly breaking up a marriage, and now you wanted to kiss him?

He was an idiot. Annoying, loud, everything you should hate. That you thought you did hate. But you didn’t. You wanted to take his face in your hands and kiss him until your lips were bruised. You wanted him to place his hands on your waist and grip them like he’d never let them go, like your body was the only thing he would hold for the rest of his life.

You blinked, almost shocked with yourself for even thinking that — for having those thoughts in your head when you should be worrying. About what, you didn’t know. Your assignment? Rauf? But with Jaskier’s eyes flitting over your face, his hand barely brushing your skin, you couldn’t think of anything but him.

Your mind was practically racing with itself. And the words that came out of your mouth weren’t the ones you expected.

“You’re an idiot,” you said, and Jaskier snorted with a smile, not bothering to defend himself. Because you both knew it was only partly true.

———————————————————————————————————

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thebiasrekkers · 4 years

Text

Make It Right [BTS Mafia!AU]

Plot: “It’s always darkest before the dawn…” It’s a dog-eat-dog world in Seoul, South Korea. One has to dwell in the shadows in order to reach for the light. What are you willing to sacrifice in order to feel the sunlight on your face? What will it take to drag you back into darkness? How long will the journey be to make it right?

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Genre: Series | Mafia!AU | Crime!AU | Angst | Romance/Fluff

Pairings: Jin x OC | Taehyung/Hoseok x OC | Yoongi/Jungkook x OC

Warnings: Graphic Violence, Heavy Language, Angst, Slow Burn, Smut

Previous Chapters: Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || Admin E’s WP || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 2,163

Tag List: @prisczero, @pinkpjmin, @btsaudge, @flowerwrites06, @unoriginal-username15432, @halussali

CHAPTER 36: SAVE ME

“I want to breathe, I hate this night. I want to wake up, I hate this dream.”

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

When she saw Min Yoongi being wheeled into the hospital’s emergency room, Raelyn pulled herself away from her assigned task almost immediately. Her heart hammered heavily against her chest and her forehead broke out into a cold sweat. She couldn’t hear the people calling her name and she blindly began digging through her pockets for her cell phone.

Did any of the others know what was happening?

Because she wasn’t his assigned nurse, there was no way for her to be directly involved in his treatment. Half an hour later, she was handed a coffee by one of her co-workers as they attempted to quell her concerns. They didn’t know what her connection with the patient was, but Raelyn knew not to open her mouth. The less they knew, the better. Everyone was better off that way.

Raelyn wanted to call Hoseok on instinct. She stopped herself, swallowing the heavy lump in her throat. Instead, she called Taehyung. He did his best to get her nerves to settle, telling her that it would take an act of some deity to pull Min Yoongi into his grave. He was just that stubborn. This got her to laugh a little and she sighed, feeling a little better than she had a few minutes earlier. Unfortunately, Taehyung was in Osan and wouldn’t be back in Seoul until later that afternoon. However, he did promise that he’d get one of the guys over to the hospital when Yoongi was cleared for discharge.

Her friend and fellow nurse, Seyeong, approached her just as she hung up with Taehyung. “Raelyn-ssi,” she called softly as Raelyn slipped her phone into her pocket, “are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said, though she didn’t feel it, “how is he doing?”

“It was fatigue mixed with an anxiety attack.” Raelyn’s brows furrowed as Seyeong continued. “He experienced some shock, but he’s stabilized and resting.”

“That’s good.”

It was the only thing that Raelyn could say without falling apart herself. She nodded her head at the appropriate moments when Seyeong explained his condition, but the woman wasn’t really listening. There were too many other things filling her head. Mostly questions that she knew she wouldn’t be getting the answers to anytime soon.

Why the hell does this keep happening?

Once she was left alone, Raelyn unconsciously bit her thumbnail as her eyes narrowed. This was crazy. Anyone would think this was crazy. Who would go out of their way to bring someone back into the fold when it was obvious that they were competition? Wasn’t it normal to want to wipe out any obstacles that would potentially stand in a person’s way, no matter what avenue it was in reference to?

While a more twisted and jaded side of Raelyn could understand the thrill of wanting to taunt and torment an opponent, this seemed just shy of overkill. Yoongi was in the hospital because something shook him to the point of falling out. That or he was stressed and doing a terrible job of burying it down inside of himself. She hadn’t wanted to bother him with twenty questions, allowing him time to relax and to put whatever disturbed him out of his mind if even for a moment.

She toyed with the idea of calling Eden, but after the altercation she had with Yoongi at the hospital last time, she decided against it. The two of them would just wind up arguing about why he was in the hospital in the first place. Both of them would stroke out before either of them was able to get a word in edgewise.

Sighing, Raelyn angrily began scratching at the back of her head. No. This wasn’t going to work. She had to get the answers straight from Yoongi himself. Taehyung was sweet, but he always tried to cover things up as best he could. Mostly because he knew how much their old life stressed Raelyn out. They were supposed to be finished with that life and things continued to seemingly spiral out of control.

Making her way toward Yoongi’s room, she looked over his chart to see what medication they were giving him. It was a mild sedative, enough to get him to relax and maybe help him sleep. Who knew how long he’d been doing things without sleeping at this rate? Once she was able to ascertain that it was the proper dosage, she quietly slipped inside.

It took her a minute for her sight to adjust to the low light of the room provided by a small lamp. The ECG monitor beeped steadily, his heart rate normal and showing that he was, indeed, resting. Raelyn closed the door quietly behind her, the latch catching with a soft click. There was a humidifier by his bedside and his attendants seemed to have adjusted his bed so that he was sitting up as he slept.

She sighed again. Okay, maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all.

As someone in the medical field, the last thing she wanted to do was pull someone out of the comfort of sleep.

Raelyn turned slowly, intent on leaving the room, when she heard movement behind her. Her hand froze, hovering just above the doorknob.

“Raelyn-ah,” he heard Yoongi grunt. She turned around to see him sitting up full, the blankets shifting around in his lap as he did so.

She turned back around to face him. “Did I wake you?”

“Who can sleep when you exist so loudly?”

Raelyn frowned, unsure of what to make of that statement. Yoongi’s wistful smirk, however, showed that he was merely teasing. She crossed the room, plopping down into a nearby chair as he pressed a hand to his forehead. She noticed the look of disapproval on his face at the IV attached to his arm. When Yoongi attempted to remove it, Raelyn smacked his wrist on reflex.

“Don’t even think about pulling that out until you’ve been discharged,” she snapped, giving him a warning glare which he huffed at.

The two of them sat in silence – both probably processing the moment shared between them. It wasn’t often that Raelyn spent time with Yoongi alone. When Hoseok and she were still together, she interacted with all the other boys – lower and upper tiered alike. But rarely was she allotted alone time with any member as an individual. In fact, she felt she’d gotten to know them better when she was no longer the boss’s girl. The title came with its privileges, sure, but that also meant she was placed on a glass pedestal that she felt would shatter at any given moment.

Truth be told, she always felt Yoongi disliked her; for reasons completely all his own. On the flip side, she never really tried to bridge the gap between them either. Yoongi kept to himself, busy moving in and out of the thick of things alongside Jungkook. He never once hinted that he knew any of Raelyn’s friends, let alone that he was even dating Eden back then. Then again, she’d kept her own connection to the Golden Jackals a secret herself.

Now that everything was out in the open, Raelyn wondered where the time had gone.

“Yoongi-ah,” she murmured while looking at him. He raised a brow, silencing urging her to continue. “What happened?”

For a long while, all Yoongi did was stare at her; as if he was mentally cracking the cogs in his head to determine how to best answer the question. He blinked a few times, brushing his hair out of his eyes before folding his arms across his chest.

“Nothing you need to concern yourself over,” he answered simply, causing the muscle near Raelyn’s jaw to pulse angrily.

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me, Min Yoongi?” Raelyn’s voice went up an octave as she rose from her chair. He followed her with his eyes. “You are now the third person connected to me in some way to wind up in the fuckin’ hospital! Why should I not be concerned about this?”

Yoongi frowned. “Because there isn’t a single thing you can do about it.” The directness of the statement was like a punch to her gut, causing her to take a step back. His expression was icy and so was his tone. “Telling you what happened won’t change anything, so why bother?”

Raelyn felt her heart sink to the bottom of her stomach and she fell into the chair, semi-defeated. Why was he the second person to seemingly knock the wind out of her sails? What was so damn heavy that they felt the need to try and chase her off like none of this mattered? Raelyn clenched her jaw, furious at being dismissed in such a way.

“Listen up,” she said, her ire bubbling near the surface, “there is only so much that you guys can do to keep us in the dark. We’re going to find out eventually.”

He scoffed as he cut his eyes at her. “You find out and then what? Huh?” Raelyn blinked, unsure of what he was getting at. “You’re either going to get caught up in this nonsense until it settles, or you’ll turn tail and run. Those are pretty much your only options.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but found she couldn’t find the right words to throw back at him. Didn’t she have a rebuttal for this? She normally did. In this instance, however, Yoongi seemed to knock the fight right out of her.

“So, I guess the only real question you should be asking yourself now,” he broached, causing her to meet his gaze, “is how long do you plan on sticking around this time?”

Even though Yoongi was a few feet away from her, when he leaned forward, Raelyn instinctively leaned back in her chair.

“Because I can tell you right now that things aren’t going to be pretty. Not for a while.”

Raelyn’s vision began to swim momentarily. It was like she was hearing Jimin’s words all over again. They held a different tone, but the implication was still there. Each of them were telling her to make a choice. Even Taehyung had asked her to believe in her, to have faith that she wouldn’t be left alone. She wanted to believe him. There wasn’t a reason for her not to. They’d proven time and again that they were steadfast and willing to walk the hard road together – side by side.

So why was she so afraid to walk with them?

“I don’t know what’s going to happen from today on,” he said, cutting through her thoughts, “and I don’t want to think about it. I tried to keep Eden as far away from this nonsense as possible and she still managed to stumble her way into this shit.”

Relieved that the pressure was off her, even for a moment, allowed Raelyn the chance to regain her voice. “That is her choice, Yoongi-ah. You tried to take it from her once already. She’s a grown ass woman and can make her own decisions.”

He rolled his eyes, averting his gaze to stare at his phone on the nightstand by the bed. It vibrated relentlessly as Jungkook’s name flashed across the screen. Neither of them made a move to answer it.

“Yeah, well,” he finally said after the phone stopped buzzing, “she’s made that clear enough. I don’t need you to remind me of that.”

Raelyn narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t let your own regrets get in the way of other people’s progress.”

There was a flash of anger that danced over Yoongi’s gaze as his eye-line met hers. She didn’t waver, despite how scary he appeared at that moment.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not stupid and I’m not blind,” she said, pushing her glasses up along the bridge of her nose. Raelyn’s arms folded across her chest slowly. “You may have messed things up with her, but that doesn’t mean Jungkook will.”

“Raelyn…” Yoongi growled out her name in warning but she didn’t heed it.

“Their relationship has nothing to do with you.”

“Jungkook is my brother!” he bellowed, causing her shoulders to tense up slightly.

She took a breath. “Stop using him as an excuse.”

Raelyn knew she was treading on dangerous ground, but this was something she’d been wanting to say to Yoongi for a while. Ever since she found out that he was the Yoongi who’d broken her best friend’s heart.

“Eden is choosing to stay by Jungkook’s side. After everything that’s happened, she’s making the choice for herself. Something you never took the chance on.”

Rising from the chair, she could feel Yoongi’s eyes following her. “And you’re right about one thing, Yoongi-ah.” Taking a moment to look over his monitors, she let her gaze linger on his for a moment longer before making her way toward the door. “It’s time I made a choice of my own.”

23 notes · View notes

thecreativeangel · 6 years

Text

aut neca aut necare: lll

Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

*Please don’t plagiarize my work, thank you :3*

Summary: Apparently she’s not popular with reporters, she might have a thing for her best friend and has to watch her mother leave (good riddance?).

Warnings: Cursing. Peter’s fallen madly in love.......with Kimberly. 🎉

Words: 2.7k

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

“Newest Queens vigilante “Nyx” seen alongside Spiderman on a midnight prowl of the city.” You read aloud at lunch, Peter and Ned listening closely. Michelle might have been listening in too, but she didn’t show it. “Nyx, seemingly an apprentice of sorts to Spiderman, was captured on camera by teens near the docks of Brooklyn. The teens provided little comment, except that they were uneasy with her presence.”

You threw the newspaper down, trying to hide the scowl that was forming on your face. That had been the latest article of many, all of them more condescending than the next. Compared to other papers this one was tame. And “Nyx”? Seriously? Like the MAKEUP BRAND?

“What do you think about it Peter?” Ned asked, staring at his friend with a suspicious level of curiosity. Peter only shrugged, nudging Ned with his elbow.

“She’s probably a nice person.” He said, picking up an apple slice. “I haven’t seen her around Queens yet.”

“Fuckin’ nosy ass paps,” You grumbled quietly. “‘They felt uneasy around her’? What a bunch of bull.”

“What’d you say Y/N?” Ned asked, leaning closer to you.

“Nothing,” You said lightly, smiling at him. “Just talking to myself.”

“It’s a weird name to call her, don’t you think?” Michelle said loudly from her end of the table. “‘Nyx’. Not really a superhero name.”

“I think it’s ‘cause she only comes out at night,” Ned answered, toying with the straw in his milk. “And she only wears black.”

“Nah, she wears dark blue and silver too.” Peter said passively. Michelle, Ned and you all turned to look at him with varying degrees of confusion.

“I saw some other pictures,” He explained quickly, sending you a sheepish smile. You had looked the most confused. “It’s a nice suit. She seems very cool.”

Michelle raised an eyebrow. “She only comes out at night.”

“Like a bat.” Ned commented.

“Like Batman.” Peter offered.

“Like someone who wants to blend in,” You said, wrinkling your nose. “Not like Batman.”

Peter opened his mouth to say something but closed it immediately. He looked behind you, watching someone pass by. Without looking you could tell it was Kimberly. No matter how hard he tried to hide it from his friends, Peter’s eyes got a bit brighter when she was near. You’d memorized that change without meaning to, even though you didn’t like it.

“I need to go get some water.” was Peter’s brilliant excuse to talk to her. You waved your hand dismissively, flipping through the news article lazily. It’s not like you told Peter that Kimberly hated you because you failed to save her mother. Telling him must have slipped from your mind. And it’s not like guilt ate away at your insides every day because of that failure. It’s not like that at all.

“Hey Kimberly…”

You listened into their conversation, somewhat irked, your eyes still trained on the article. Kimberly’s pleasant voice faded in and out of your hearing range. You heard her giggle, saying something back to him. Listening to them talk like normal people was torture. You focused back on your newspaper. ‘Several more reports came in from a family that claimed Nyx robbed last Saturday as they came back from a concert.’ You scoffed and noisily sipped apple juice through a straw. ‘The family also chose to remain anonymous.’ Ha! Turn on your location assholes, I just wanna talk. Peter sat down again, looking happier and more thoughtful than before.

“Well what happened?” MJ asked, still glued to her book. “Did you make out or what?”

“No! No-” Peter scratched the back of his neck. “We just talked.”

“About what?” You asked, regretting it soon after. You hadn’t wanted to ask, but it slipped out.

“She’s happy to talk to someone,” Peter said, his ears turning pink. “Her mom died in the fire last month, and it’s a lot to get used to. She’s so…”

“Resilient?” Ned finished.

“Yeah, but nice too.” Peter said, glancing back at Kimberly. “And positive.”

You saw her stand up once more to throw away her trash, flashing Peter a shy smile. And, when Peter had turned his back, she met eyes with you. Kimberly looked at you like she was watching an animal eat its own throw up. That’s exactly how disgusting you felt too. Her usually kind dark brown eyes shone with cold blooded murder.

“Hey, d’you guys already have Mrs. Keilman’s class?” Peter asked, sorting through his notes. You snapped out of your trance, happily taking the chance to look away from Kimberly.

“I had her second peri-”

Your phone dinged, and you scrambled to unlock it when you saw it was your mum. It was a short text: “Don’t go to Peter’s house after school.” Before you could reply, she sent another one. “Come straight home before 5. Or I’ll leave anyway.”

“Shit.” You muttered, typing out a quick “ok”. Peter, who’d been reading over your shoulder, pretended he was minding his own business. You were too tired to tell him off.

“So what’s your mom gotta say?” MJ asked, actually looking up from her book.

“She uh- she says I can’t go to Ned’s after school,” You said, playing with your food to avoid meeting her scrutinizing gaze. “She’s probably staying at the company over the weekend.”

“You can’t come over for movie night?” Ned asked dejectedly. “But we rented Back to the Future. Peter was going to bring popcorn.”

You put on a grin and patted his back. “It’s fine Ned. Michelle will be happy to take my place, won’t you Mickey?”

“Wh- excuse me-” MJ stuttered, probably for the first time since you’d met her. She suddenly looked very flustered, a general reaction to you calling her Mickey. “F-first of all, don’t call me that. Second-”

“She’d love to go Ned.” You cut her off.

Your mother set down her wine glass and stared at you through half lidded, unimpressed eyes. This happened often, the mother daughter staring competitions, testing who would crack first. Your ears and neck felt hot, and when she raised an eyebrow, you looked away. She always won.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me sooner,” You said, avoiding looking at her. You sounded pouty, like the child she thought you were. “What am I supposed to do for two months? How am I going to buy food? Is this even legal?”

“It’s legal unless you decide to tell the authorities,” Your mother said cooly. “Which you won’t. You’re sixteen now, old enough to make your own decisions instead of following me like a sheep. When I was sixteen-”

“You were already starting your college education, I know.”

Your mother picked the glass up again, taking a bored sip as you continued what she considered a childish rant. “Mum, I’m not even mad ‘cause you’re leaving- I’m pissed ‘cause you supposedly forgot to tell me.”

“Watch your language.” Was her only reply.

“What-” You snapped. “I’m allowed to stay at home alone for two months but I’m not allowed to curse? That’s some backwards logic right there-”

She stood up suddenly, nearly knocking the chair over in the process. Maybe it was an adult thing, but she had always been able to silence you with her glare. Add the fact that she was a smidge taller than you, assuring her win in this intimidation game. You noticed that suitcases were already laid out on the leather couch.

“I am only doing this because the company called me a few days ago, very short notice, mind you,” She huffed. “And they need me to be there, since Kacy proved to be an incapable-”

Your mother’s nose twitched. “I’ll leave you some money. Tell Peter’s aunt if you’d like, maybe she’ll help you with groceries and such. Don’t sit around being useless like you normally do.”

Having finished off her glass, she went to put it in the sink, once again ignoring your existence. That tended to happen when you disappointed mother, and it made you shake with anger. As soon as the wine glass left her hand-

It exploded.

Your mother shrieked like a wild pig. Shards flew and scattered, thankfully staying mostly in the sink. You realized you’d been glaring at the glass and quickly looked away, still frowning.

“How the hell?” You mother breathed, hesitantly approaching the sink. She picked up a shard of glass and held it between her thumb and pointer finger, as if examining it would explain why the glass exploded. I did that. I didn’t even touch it!

“Have fun on your trip,” You murmured, pushing past her to get to your bedroom. “I hate you.”

She made no attempt to follow you, but yelled “fucking brat” as you slammed your door shut and locked it. With half a mind to fall on the bed and scream into a pillow, you instead decided to do something. Talk to someone, maybe. Still face down against the mattress, you blindly grabbed around for your phone and propped yourself up on your elbow to dial Peter.

“Hey, this is Peter. Parker. Uh, I messed up- May! How do I delete thi-”

You breathed a laugh, quiet just in case your mum was listening in. Peter never failed to mess up his voicemail. You’d been there when he spent two hours trying to make it perfect, in case Liz ever called. Through the door, you heard your mum loudly zipping up her suitcases and calling a cab. You shoved your head into the pillow and groaned. Should’ve asked when she was leaving.

You looked through your contacts and clicked May’s before thinking. Yes, dialing your best friend’s aunt’s number might not have been the best idea, but May was an angel. An angel who knew how to responsibly buy food and make out checks. She answered within two rings.

“Hello?”

“Hi May.” You greeted.

“Y/N!” She chimed. “Oh god, it’s wonderful to talk to you! How’s everything going?”

“It’s great,” You said lightly, cringing when your mum dropped a suitcase and cursed. Hopefully Aunt May didn’t hear that. “I’m doing alright. Is uh, is Peter home?”

“No. Sorry honey, he’s out with a friend. I could leave a message…?”

“That’s okay,” You refused politely. “Actually- Could I borrow Peter’s old bike? My mum won’t be able to drive me for a few months.”

“Sure, he doesn’t use it anyway. What’s wrong with your mom’s car?”

You bit your lip. “Her license expired. She has to retake the exam and all that. Can I come over and pick it up?”

“Mhmh, I’m home anyway, so…” You heard her briefly lift the phone from her ear. “Wait honey, Peter just got home. Do you want to talk to him?”

“That would be great, thank you.”

You practically felt her beam through the phone and call something to Peter. Laughter and feminine giggling sounded through your end, and no offence to Peter, but he never had girls over.

“Sorry honey,” May said, sounding confused and apologetic. “Peter’s busy right now, but you can still come over for the bike. He says he’s with a friend, but I’m positive she’s more than a friend, because I haven’t seen him look at anyone that way since Liz.”

The heat drained from your face. “M-May, who’s Peter’s friend?”

“Oh, she’s from his science class I think, very quiet by the way. I think her name is Kimberl-”

You chucked your phone across the room. Probably not your best moment, but come on. Of all the people, why, why, why, why why why why why wHY WHY-

Breathing in deeply through your nose, you marched over, picked up the phone and hesitantly lifted it to your ear. May was already panicking. “(Name) honey, are you okay? I think something fell-”

“M’fine May,” You answered. “K-knocked over my lamp, but it’s fine. I’m fine.”

She didn’t say anything for some time, and you heard her walk further away from Peter and Kimberly laughing. “Honey, is everything alright at home? If your mother’s being difficult, you can sleep over here for a few days.”

“No, no,” You said quickly. “Mum’s been normal. It’s not that.”

Only after saying that did you realize your mistake. It’s not that. You knew May narrowed her eyes when you said that. “What’s wrong...?”

You opened your mouth and were interrupted by a shriek of laughter from Kimberly. If it were possible, you felt May narrow her eyes even more and glance in their direction.

“Y/N sweetness,” She whispered, even more caring than before. “Is it Peter?”

You bit your lip harder, feeling the skin break beneath your teeth. May pretended to be clueless in terms of pop culture and teenage angst, but she understood better than any adult. She knew the answer. “Is this why he didn’t want to talk to you?”

“I don’t know,” You breathed sadly into the phone. “I don’t want to know. May, it’s better to drop it-”

“It’s her, isn’t it?”

May, you are too damn smart for anyone else’s good. Stay this way forever. “I-I think so.”

“Okay, okay, just tell me one thing,” Her voice trembled with poorly concealed excitement. “Oh, I’ve wanted to know for six years- Sorry, sorry, gotta stay on task. Do you…like him?”

For some reason you looked around the room to make sure no one was there, even though the door was locked. What a hard question. Well, not really, but it was impossible to put into words. Do I like Peter? I mean, he’s opted not to talk to me because Kimberly is there, and I wanna choke him right now… Haha, that’s what she said. If you did like Peter, did you want to? So far, him being your second biggest secret, you hated it. You’d spend life denying that you were attached to anyone, even your mother (you being emotionally distant was her fault, probably). The question still stood: Do I like Peter?

“Yeah.” You shyly mumbled into the phone. May squeaked the moment it left your lips.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited,” May said breathlessly, like she were holding in a squeal. “This is so perfect! I mean, I always thought, hoped, even- But wow, that’s amazing!”

“Uh, May?”

“Yes honey?”

“He’s- Peter’s not-” You held the phone away from you and huffed. It seemed physically painful to say “he doesn’t like me”, but it was better to reject yourself before Peter got the chance. The group picture of him, you and Ned was sitting on your bed stand, collecting dust but ever present. You looked away from it. “Peter isn’t with Kimberly…to study. Just putting that out there.”

“Oh-” She gasped, biting her tongue. “Oh, I’m so sorry. She’s not very nice, by the way. Terrible girl. Very rude-”

“May, I know you like her. It’s okay that you like her. Kimberly’s a great person.”

It sort of burned your tongue to say that, but the statement was half true. Kim was nice to everyone, except you. She was kinder, more thoughtful, more tolerant and patient and optimistic. Perfect grades in all her advanced classes, in an already advanced school. Not to mention her flawless skin and shiny hair… But May seemed determined to make you feel better. “Y’know, there’s still something about her that I didn’t like.”

You smiled sadly at her attempt at cheering you up. “And what’s that?”

“She isn’t you, sweetness,” May said sincerely. “There’s only one of you.”

You laughed at that. “May-”

“I know, I know,” She confessed. “That might have been the corniest thing I’ve ever said, but I mean it. You’re such a wonderful girl, honey. Your mom just doesn’t give you enough credit.”

If this were said in person you might have cried, because even now your throat tightened with emotion. You let out a strangled “thanks May” before your voice got the chance to crack.

“No problem,” She said. “I’ll always be your honorary aunt. And honey?”

“Yeah?”

“Peter will always be your best friend,” May said thoughtfully. Peter and Kimberly’s voices got louder in the background. “But god help him if he hurts you, I swear I’ll-”

You giggled at her antics. “Thank you May. G’night.”

Aunt May grinned happily on her side of the call, feeling careworn but content. “Goodnight Y/N.”

Authors Note: This is the last chapter before things get...interesting.

137 notes · View notes

arrow-guy · 6 years

Text

It’s A Trap

Original request from @buckysendoftheline : Hey! So I was thinking, could you do a Matt Murdock x reader where y/n is really great friends with him, foggy, and Karen. However, an enemy knows that Matt is Daredevil so one day seeing Matt with Y/N maybe on a walk? the enemy just takes y/n during the walk so Matt (aka Daredevil) gets lured. Then you make the rest! Thank you! :D

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to get around to finishing this, but thank you for being so patient with me!! I actually ended up really loving this prompt, so I hope you like it!

Pairing: Matt MurdockxReader

Word Count: 4122

Warnings: Kidnapping

“Hello, boys!”

“Hey, (Y/N),” Foggy says, not even bothering to look up from his laptop. “It’s lovely to see you.”

“You know, you might actually mean that if you’d look up from your work.”

I watch his eyebrows raise as he finishes up the line of text he’s working on and looks up from the screen. His eyes go wide and a grin stretches his face. “You brought coffee.”

I grin back. “I brought coffee,” I affirm.

“(Y/N), you are an angel among men,” He says, taking his coffee from the tray and placing a smacking kiss on my cheek.

“You’re only saying that because I’m your caffeine supplier,” I scowl at him jokingly.

“Is that the loveliest paralegal in all of Hell’s Kitchen I hear?” Matt asks, poking his head out of his office.

“You’re such a flirt, Murdock,” I roll my eyes and place the tray of coffees on Karen’s desk so she can take her own cup and take Matt’s cup over to him. I take his hand and push the cup into it so he knows it’s there.

“What’s this?” He asks, eyebrows raised.

I roll my eyes. “It’s coffee, Matt. Just the way you like it.”

“Just the way I like it, huh?”

“Yup, black like the alleyways of Hell.”

He snorts before taking a sip of coffee and sighing loudly. “Absolutely perfect.”

“Anything on the docket for today?” I inquire.

“Nothing really, actually,” Foggy says. “We’re just finishing up the paperwork from our last case and then we should be free for the rest of the day.”

“Unless someone comes in looking for the best lawyers in all the land, that is,” I add, leaning on Karen’s desk.

Karen takes a rolled up newspaper and swats at my butt. “Get off, you’re wrinkling my rough drafts.”

I laugh and push myself away from the edge of her desk. “I’ll never understand why you want to keep up working here when you’ve got such a sweet gig with the paper, Karen. You know I can take over your place here so you can focus on your writing.”

“Why would I do that when I have such a fun babysitting job here?”

“Ooh, that really stings, Karen,” Foggy says, placing one hand over his heart. “You know damn well I can take care of myself. It’s Mr. Rose Colored Glasses over there who needs help.”

“I’m not even going to say anything,” Matt shakes his head and takes a sip of his tar-like coffee.

I bark out a laugh. “Yeah, because you know it’ll get you in trouble.”

A grin stretches his mouth and he lifts his coffee to his lips again. “Very true.”

I shake my head and head towards the door. “If any of you want to meet me for lunch in an hour, I’ll be at the usual place.”

“What makes you think we can just drop everything and meet you for lunch?”

“Well, the fact that you haven’t managed to land a case in a week is just screaming out for me to spill the beans on a very interesting and potentially high profile case that just happened to fall into our lap but, somehow, never made it to the inbox on my boss’s desk,” Foggy and Matt lean forward and I smirk at them. “If someone felt like treating, I might even throw in the file and spare you the pain of hunting down the client.”

“You drive a hard bargain, (Y/N),” Foggy scowls at me and Matt laughs loudly. “What?”

“Admit it, you want to go to lunch just as badly as she does.”

“Of course I do. (Y/N) picks the best restaurants!”

I snort. “So you two are coming?”

Matt shrugs. “Why not.”

“Cool. Karen?”

“I think I’m going to stay here and hold down the fort.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Just bring me back leftovers.” She says, offering a small smirk.

“Will do,” I shoot her a smile before heading for the door. “I'll meet you two outside.”

“How'd you even find this place, (Y/N)?” Foggy asks.

I shrug. “Boss brought me here for lunch one day. Said it was one of her favorite restaurants before she got rich.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“I don't know, but if being rich means I can't eat at dive bars anymore then I think I'll be happy with the middle class for the rest of my life.”

“Amen,” Foggy raises his glass and taps it against mine when I do the same.

“So, you said something about cases earlier.” Matt says. “What kind of stuff are we looking at?”

I wipe my hands and mouth on my napkin before pulling several files out of my bag and flipping through them before handing them off to Foggy for safekeeping. “Nothing too crazy, just a few property damage cases that you could probably get settled before the week is out, might even be able to work it out before the first court appearance. The biggest one in there is a college student who's suing her college professor for stealing a book that she had been writing.”

Matt perks up at the mention of the last case. “Are we talking theft or plagiarism?”

“Straight up theft.”

“Are you sure this kid is telling the truth?” Foggy inquires. “I'm all for helping out someone who's been wronged, but I'd rather not drag out a case just because I need a paycheck.”

“Don't worry your pretty little head, Nelson,” I laugh lightheartedly. “I looked into all of these and they're legit. I even talked to the girl who brought in the case. She's got all of her hard copies, concept art and cover designs. She's been working on this since she was in elementary school.”

“Wow,” Matt lifts his eyebrows. “Even so, someone might say that she's faked all of it. Could've had a kid draw something for her, write something down. Even timestamps on digital files can be altered.”

“Very true, Matty. But, her mom worked as a patent paralegal and always told her to mail herself copies of whatever she's working on so that she could prove that it's her original work. Apparently that's what a fair number of inventors do to prove their work is original.”

“That's… actually fairly sound advice.”

“Yeah. It helps that she's been doing it since she was twelve years old. You've got a paper trail a hundred miles long. There's no way in hell you'll lose this suit.”

“I don’t know what to say, (Y/N),” Matt says, shaking his head.

“Well I do,” Foggy scoffs. “Thank you, (Y/N), we really owe you one.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Matt’s brow furrows. “Are you really sure we can take these cases? The clients won’t be upset over being sent to a different law firm?”

“I’m certain.” I smile sheepishly. “I may have sort of lied to you about sneaking the files out of the office.”

“Wait, what?”

“Boss lady knows I'm friends with you guys and she occasionally likes to help out smaller firms where she can. I didn't tell you because I know you guys would think it was a handout.”

“Isn't it though?”

“Absolutely not. It's a referral. The clients were consulted and were offered the option of waiting a month for her services or to be helped out immediately by the new up and coming defense attorneys in Hell’s Kitchen. They chose you guys. Not a handout, just a referral. If you choose to take their cases, that is. If you do well enough she'll send more people your way. Help build your reputation and client list.”

“Why didn't you just tell us this from the start?”

I shrug. “Had to get you out of that office somehow,” Matt snorts. “Besides, I know you guys like a good mystery mixed in occasionally.”

“Like I said back at the office, that's Matt. He's the reckless one. I like things nice and peaceful and routine.”

“Whatever you say, Foggy,” I check my watch and my eyes practically pop out of my skull. “Shit, I gotta go.”

“What? Why?” Matt asks.

“I'm supposed to be back at the office for a meeting in five minutes.” I flag a server down and manage to get my meal boxed up quickly. “Don't forget to get Karen something. I'll see you guys later.”

“See ya, (Y/N),” Foggy waves.

I sling my bag over my shoulder after stuffing the styrofoam box inside and head for the door. “Make sure you contact those clients. I don't want my boss thinking I've got terrible time management skills and horrible taste in friends.”

“Will do, (Y/N),” Matt says. “Just get back to the office safe and let us know when you get there.”

“I will.”

“Hey!” Someone plops their hand on my shoulder unexpectedly, making me jump. “You’re (Y/N), aren’t you?”

“First off, ” I stop dead in my tracks, pinching one of their fingers between my thumb and forefinger, picking it up and dropping it. “Don’t touch me like you know me. Second, I am one of many (Y/N)’s in this godforsaken city. What do you want?”

“Nothing special,” they say nonchalantly. “Just you.”

“Excuse m-?!” My cry of outrage is muffled as their hand clamps a rag over my mouth, their free arm pulling me to them and holding me firmly against their chest. “Mphf!”

I struggle against their hold managing to briefly dislodge their arm from around me, only to have the wind knocked out of me when someone walking past punches me in the gut before swiftly walking away. The air wheezes out of me and I unconsciously take a gasping breath, only accomplishing my assailants goal of introducing whatever's on the rag into my system. Within seconds I feel drowsy and my legs become weak. My body falls slack and my attacker hefts me up over their shoulder.

“Tell the boss we got her.” They say gruffly.

“You sure this is the right chick?”

I feel them sigh. “Don't give a shit. I get paid either way.” Their voices slowly fade as my consciousness does. “Let's get this over with.”

“Hey, has (Y/N) texted you yet?” Matt asks.

“No, she hasn't.”

Matts brow furrows. “It's been two hours since she left us at the restaurant. She should have reached her office building by now.”

“Maybe she just got distracted. Her workload is usually pretty heavy and she did say that she was late for a meeting.”

Matt shakes his head and pick up the phone on his desk and feels over the number pad before punching in the number for (Y/N)’s office. It rings twice before someone picks up.

“Hello, how can I assist you?”

“Hello, this is Matt Murdock of Nelson and Murdock. I was hoping to speak to (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N).”

“I'm sorry, Mr. Murdock, but she isn't in the office at this time.”

Matt's heartbeat stutters and his brows pull together. “Alright, do you know where I might be able to contact her?”

“I'm afraid not. We weren't informed as to- I'm sorry, please hold for a moment.” Matt can hear her whispering with someone on the other end, but he can't make out what they're saying due to the static.

“Mr. Murdock.” A new voice crackles through the line. “This is (Y/N)’s employer.”

“It's nice to speak with you.”

“I wish could say the same to you. Unfortunately, (Y/N) never showed up for our scheduled meeting after she said she was going to drop off the case files with you. About an hour ago, I received a rather, shall I say, disturbing letter.”

Matt’s jaw clenches in anticipation of the news. “Is that so.”

“It is.” She says. “When I returned to my office earlier, I found a rather disturbing note. It said that (Y/N) had been taken and that you would know why. There was no signature, but was simply signed with a blood red handprint.”

“They wouldn't dare.” Matt hisses.

“I'm sorry, Mr. Murdock, I didn't quite catch that.”

“I apologize, ma’am.”

“I assume you know how to get her back safely?”

“I certainly will do my best.”

“See that you do. Otherwise you'll find yourself ruined or dead by the end of tomorrow. Possibly both, we'll see what happens.”

“Understood. I will keep you posted.”

The line goes dead and Matt slams the phone down on its base.

“Bad news?” Foggy asks.

“The Hand took her.”

“What?”

“The Hand took (Y/N) because they know I care about her and they I'm Daredevil. They're trying to lure me out.”

“Well obviously it's going to work because you have to get her back.”

“Of course I do.” Matt pushes himself away from his desk and quickly gets up from his chair. He grabs his bag and jacket before heading for the door. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Wait, you’re leaving now?!”

“I have to figure out where they’re holding her, then I can get her back, otherwise I could be searching for days. I’d like my balls to stay where they are, thank you.”

Foggy holds his hands up in surrender, more for his benefit than Matt’s. “Hey, I understand. Do what you have to do, just get her back.”

Matt nods once, turns on his heel, and exits the office.

The outside world slowly starts to break through the heavy darkness that's weighing on me as I come to. My ears are ringing slightly and my head feels like it's been slammed into a brick wall at least fifteen times. I scrunch up my eyes against the bright, fluorescent lighting and hesitantly open one eye, only to find the room I'm being held in to be empty.

Opening both eyes I look around me, finding abandoned desks and sparsely decorated, gray walls. I snort disdainfully and try to get more comfortable in the chair I've been tied to.

My hands are bound behind my back and my upper body has been tied to the backrest of the chair. My ankles aren't tied to the legs of the chair like I was half expecting, so I assume I'm safe from anything more questionable than a kidnapping for the time being.

The door slams open, the handle momentarily sticking to the old bumper on the wall. A man, that can only be described as being stubby, stands in the doorway, blinking at me dumbly.

I raise my eyebrows at him questioningly. “Well?”

“Ey, boys.” he calls into the next room. “The little lady’s awake.”

I roll my eyes and shake my head. “Real classy,” I mutter.

“You say that like you’re in a position to complain, girlie.” Says a new, gruff voice.

I glare up at it’s owner and primly cross my slack clad legs. “You say that like I haven’t got the right to.” He snorts, dislodging something ugly in the back of his throat and spits it out towards the edge of the room. “Well, God gave me a voice, didn’t he? I intend to make full use of it while I can.”

The man raises a heavy fist, shaking it threateningly. “Why, I oughtta-”

“I wouldn’t advise that,” I snort amusedly.

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, I’m assuming I’m some sort of bargaining chip. Explains why I’m not dead yet.” I raise my eyebrows and smirk at the man’s shocked expression. “Wouldn’t want to kill the bait, now would we?”

“You don’t know nothin’,”

“Maybe not, but the real question here is, who on earth could we be waiting on?”

“They’re waiting on me,”

I strain to look past the burly man standing in front of me, only managing to catch a glimpse of deep crimson. The Devil of Hell’s kitchen? I'm bait for the Daredevil. Well that's just great.

“So you finally found us,” the man in front of me steps to the side, allowing me a better look at the masked man.

“You didn't exactly make it hard,” The devil tilts his head to the side as a hoard of broad shouldered, overly muscled, squat men surrounds him. “Practically left a trail of breadcrumbs.”

I flinch away from the circle of men in front of me and squeeze my eyes shut when they close in on the man in red. The sounds of metal hitting flesh reach my ears with a sickening slap followed by the occasional groan, scream and crunch. I crack open one eye, only to find the room pitch black. The Daredevil suddenly appears right in front of me and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming. I lean away from him instinctively and turn my head away.

“Are you alright?” He asks, his voice quiet.

“Yes,”

“They didn’t do anything to you?” He moves his hands to the tie on my right hand. “Didn’t touch you or hurt you?”

I shake my head. “No, I truly think I was just here to draw you out.” When he frees my left hand, I rub at the red rings around my wrists before noticing his outstretched hand.

“Let’s go,” he says, his voice at a more normal volume.

“Why are you suddenly talking normally?” I ask, taking his hand only to be hauled out of my seat. The masked man doesn’t answer my question and instead guides me through the dark corridors of the building.

I dig my heels in when we’re a block away from what I can now see was an abandoned law firm anex. The Daredevil spins around and would have been glaring at me if I could have seen his eyes through his mask.

“What are you doing?!” He hisses.

I pull my hand from his grip. “I’m not moving till I get answers.”

He whips his head around, like he’s checking if the coast is clear. There isn’t anyone following us and I roll my eyes. When he’s satisfied, his gaze finally settles on me, his mouth set in a frustrated frown.

“What do you want to know?” He asks gruffly.

“Who are you?” I demand. “And why am I important enough to you for them to kidnap me?”

I watch with wide eyes as his hands curl into fists, worried that he’s upset enough to take it out on me. He slowly loosens his hands and flexes his fingers before sighing loudly and lifting his hands to his mask. He hesitates momentarily before firmly tugging his mask off his head. He shakes out his hair before lifting his eyes to meet mine. I feel my knees buckle slightly and he immediately drops his helmet, his hands shooting out to grab my arms in an attempt to steady me. I try to push away from him, but he just holds onto me tighter.

“Let go of me, Matt!” I land several hard punches to his chest and he barely moves.

“I won’t,” He says, pulling me in close to his chest and wrapping his arms around me. “I know you’re mad, but I’m just glad you’re safe.”

“I can’t believe you’re Daredevil,” I push away from his chest slightly so I can look up at him. “How have you been able to keep this a secret for so long?”

The corner of his mouth quirks up in a rueful smile, and he tilts his head to the side. “I’ll admit, it has made several relationships fairly strained, but the few people who needed to know, know.”

I lift one eyebrow at him questioningly. “And I didn’t need to know?”

“I had hoped that would be the case, but I was wrong, and I’m sorry.”

“You’re an ass, Murdock. A total and complete ass,” I say, sharply jabbing him in the chest with my finger.

He smiles at me and gently takes my hand in his. “Yeah, I know. I’m glad to have you back. Foggy’s insults just don’t sting the way yours do.”

I roll my eyes and shake my head, crouching down to grab his helmet. “Yeah yeah, tell me how much you love me once we get somewhere safe, okay?” I scowl at the dark street. “It’s late and this place just gets darker and creepier by the second.”

Matt nods and carefully leads the way down the street, occasionally breaking away from the sidewalks and heading down a maze of alleyways. He seems to sense when my fear gets the best of me, his hand tightening around mine and even pulling me close to his side when he feels it isn’t safe enough for me to simply trail along behind him. After about an hour of walking, Matt leads me up several flights of stairs, into an apartment building. When he stops us outside of a door, I realize he’s brought me back to his place.

“Do you really think it’s safe for us to be here, especially if they know who you are?”

He unlocks the door and ushers me through. “You’re more safe here with me, and I’d feel better knowing where you are.” He turns to me and carefully brings one hand up to cup my cheek. “Please stay?”

My brow furrows and I frown, the weight of everything that’s happened to day crashing down on me all at once. I suddenly feel very tired and heavy, and find myself leaning into Matt’s touch.

I nod. “Yeah, I’ll stay. On one condition, though.”

“Oh?”

“You don’t sleep on the couch.”

He laughs lightheartedly and takes his helmet from my hand, nodding. “Alright, you’ve got yourself a deal.”

He wraps an arm around my shoulders and I sag into him as he leads me through the apartment towards his bedroom. He grabs a t-shirt, sweatshirt and pair of loose boxers from his drawers for me to use as pajamas and tells me I can change in the bathroom. I nod and quietly pad into the other room, closing the door behind me.

When I look into the mirror, I notice how tired I look. My eyes are barely open, and the dark circles that had already been well on their way to forming are even darker than they were this morning. I shake my head and quickly dress in the clothes Matt gave me, trying not to think about the fact that I’m putting on his clothing. I pull the collar of the sweatshirt up to my nose and breathe deeply, smiling to myself as I head back to Matt’s bedroom.

When I return, I find Matt perched on the edge of his bed, head in his hands. As soon as he hears me, his head snaps up, sightless eyes directed at me. He pushes himself up off the bed and walks towards me, head tilted to the side momentarily, like he’s listening for something. He reaches out to me and pulls me close to his chest, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. He gently combs one hand through my hair, and I wrap my arms around his waist, pressing my nose into his chest.

“I’m so sorry you got roped into this,” He says softly. “I should have been able to protect you.”

I shake my head. “It’s not your fault. It’s not. The only people to blame are the ones you left in a heap in the middle of that room,” I feel my body growing heavier, my exhaustion finally hitting me full force. “You came, and that’s what matters.”

He sighs softly and I can feel him nod against the top of my head. “Tired?”

I nod and he guides us back towards the bed, pulling back the covers and allowing me to crawl in first before he slides in after me. I roll over on my side so I can face him and breathe deeply, slowly breathing out through my nose. Even in the dark I can see all the creases in his forehead, lines left there by worry and work and made worse when he pulls his brows together like he’s doing now. I smile and reach out to smooth my fingers over the space between his eyebrows, trying to get him to relax. The tension in his face slowly subsides and I watch as his entire body begins to relax. Happy with the result, I slowly move closer to Matt, curling into his chest.

Matt reaches out and pulls me flush against his body and gently cards his fingers through my hair. He sighs and presses a gentle kiss to my forehead before resting his forehead against mine. With the sounds of traffic in the city streets and Matt’s soft breathing, I feel myself nodding off. I feel safe.

Thank you guys so much for reading! If you liked the piece please reply to the post or shoot me an ask! Feedback would be greatly appreciated!!!

Tag listers:

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#matt murdockxreader #readerxmatt murdock #matt murdock x reader #reader x matt murdock #mattmurdockxreader #readerxmattmurdock #matt murdock #daredevil #marvel #marvel fanfiction #reader insert marvel fic #marvel angst #marvel fluff #request

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justauthoring · 6 years

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A Pawn - Sherlock Holmes/Jim Moriarty (2/3)

Prompt: You were a pawn - a planted weapon to destroy Sherlock Holmes. But were you, maybe, more?

THIS IS A MINI-SERIES: one - two - three

Please don’t plagiarize my work - I spend a lot of my time writing, copying and pasting destroys that. If you want to repost my work. please ask first - but even then I might say no.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN! PLEASE SEND SOME IN!

The world was dark around you - you couldn’t see a thing. Your hands were locked around your side and you were absolutely stuck. All you saw around you was darkness, but all you felt was padding. Soft padding that alleviated you from ever hurting yourself. But little did the men who took you know, you were beyond that.

It was your mind - your mind that caused you such pain and agony.

Days bled into weeks. Weeks bled in months. And months bled in years. Or two to be exact. You didn’t know for sure, but it’s what you deduced. After all, it was your speciality. And rather, what had got you locked up here in the first place. A maniac they’d called you. A maniac’s mind that couldn’t be controlled, so they threw you in a cell to keep you at bay.

But the white padded walls didn’t help nor keep you contained. You were merely just waiting - for what? You didn’t know. You just had a feeling.

Then, a light broke through the darkness and your eyes squinted at the brightness that blinded you. But you didn’t close your eyes - oh, no. You kept them open, your dead eyes searching for the man that would step through any moment. And sure enough, one did - in a nice suit, hair brushed back neatly.

The man smiled at you, devilishly handsome and you grinned, body shaking.

“Names James Moriarty.” The man introduced, squatting down before you as if you were a child. With one wave of his hands, the men behind him left the room, and the light faded and only darkness surrounded you. You couldn’t see the man anymore, but somehow it seemed he could still see you. “And you’re Y/N.” The man said, with an ant-agonizingly long pause. “No last name. What a shame.”

You remained silent and the man shifted. You couldn’t see him but you felt him, walking around you.

“Do you not speak?” Moriarty said, again, acting as if you were a child. He almost seemed disappointed.

“I do.” Your voice was hoarse, it had been such a long time then you had used it. “And Y/L/N.”

“Y/L/N?”

“My last name.” You uttered, pulled on the straps that kept you at bay. “I do have one.”

Then suddenly, Moriarty was directly in front of you. “A pleasant surprise.” You could see through the darkness his smile shine.

“What do you want?” You asked, voice low. “I never have visitors.”

His hand touched your cheek and you flinched, shaking your head away desperately. No one had ever laid a hand on you since... since then.

“You poor, poor abused thing.” Moriarty uttered, a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

“Why -” You huffed, out of breath. “Why are you here?”

“Word says you’ve been in here ever since you murdered your own parents.” Moriarty explained and your body flinched violently. Flashes of the blood, the violence flooding your mind. “I need that kind of insanity and you’re just the one.”

“I’m...” You paused, closing your eyes as your mind raced with thoughts. “I’m stuck here...” It was almost like you’d forgotten how to speak like a normal human being. But you imagined two years of solitary could do that to one. “Forever.”

“Darling, no ones ever stuck.” Moriarty sang, before he stood. “You have a decision. A choice. Come with me and i’ll make you more than you ever were or rot in here until you die.” Somewhere along the line his voice became deeper, angrier and you feared him more. “I advice the first choice, love. I have many surprises awaiting for you.”

And then realization flooded through you.

“You’re the one,” you whispered. “The one i’ve been waiting for.”

Laughing echoed. “And she’s clever!” He exclaimed, a loud clap echoing off the walls. “I knew I made the right choice.”

As if on cue, the light faded back into the room and the handsome man was before your eyes again. He extended a hand towards you, grinning. “I normally don’t like to touch,” he said with a frown. “But i’ll make an exception for you love. Only for you.”

You paused, unsure of your movements. But one thing you knew, you didn’t want to spend the rest of your days rotting in here.

So you nodded, both Moriarty and you very aware that you couldn’t use your hands at the moment. Then the two men from before came in, grabbing you by the straps of your straight jacket and hefting you up, they unlocked you and for the first time in years you had the ability of using your own hands.

You slipped your lithe and frail hand into Moriarty’s and he grinned. “Right choice, love.” He whispered, leaning close. “I already have our first game plan. And i’m sure you’ll like this one.”

You felt his hand land on your lower back, and suddenly you were up against his chest. Your breath left you for a moment, your forearms stuck before you as your eyes gazed at his own dark brown ones.

“You did amazing, love.” Moriarty smiled, faces inches away from your own. “Better then I could’ve expected.”

You laughed half-heartedly, nodding your head as Moriarty continued to cheer with joy. “Did you see the look on his face?” Moriarty asked, stepping away from you with a loud laugh. “Absolutely shocked. I’m surprised he didn’t see it coming.”

Your gaze fell on your feet, shifting in the tight red dress still adorned on your body. “Never had a clue,” you whispered, narrowing your eyes. Your mind was confused - so confused. You should be happy - the plan had seemed joyous at the beginning. Your first ever mission from James Moriarty and it had been one of the most important - you’d been more than bless.

Moriarty gave you a sense of importance. Some meaning in your life. In his own twisted way, Moriarty didn’t make you feel so insane.

But so had Sherlock...

“Why are you not happy?” Moriarty asked suddenly, his voice dangerously low. You looked up from your feet within seconds, snapping your gaze on him with a sudden trace of fear. Taking a step towards you, Moriarty frowned, a glint in his eyes. “Don’t tell me, you’d begun to grow for the boring man?”

“Of course not,” you shook your head, gripping your hands tightly behind your back as you tried to hide your fear. So you said what you knew would make him happy. “I am pleased, James. But I wanted to do more - hurt him more.”

Moriarty then grinned, brightly - and you sometimes wondered if he was bipolar. His attitude always changing in such quick shifts.

“That’s my darling,” he whispered, laying a hand on your cheek. “Always itching to kill.”

Your eyes shined.

“Well then,” Moriarty sighed, pushing you by the cheek. “Go off.”

“Hmm?” You frowned, glancing Moriarty nervously.

“Kill,” he said in just a whisper. “Do what you do best and destroy lives.”

“Don’t you need me?” You asked, voice shifting slightly. Your voice suddenly became quieter, as if nervous.

“Oh please,” Moriarty huffed. “Of course I will. I’m not done with you yet. But not this moment love, right now I need you to leave.”

His words shouldn’t have hurt you as much as they did, this wasn’t the first time Moriarty had tossed you aside until he would again need you. But through it all, you’d always reassured yourself he’d need you again. “Yet?” You questioned, voice cracking. “What do you mean yet?”

Moriarty shrugged; “you’re usefulness will eventually die out, love. I do tend to get bored easily.”

“But you said...” You shook your head, mind racing with thoughts. “In front of Sherlock even... that you’d-”

“Yes, but that was acting, love.” Moriarty huffed.

You said no more, knowing the look in his eyes meant to leave before something worse happened. But as you turned, you couldn’t help but change your plans a bit.

“Why aren’t you more angry about this?” John huffed, pacing across the flat. “I swear to God, Sherlock - do not tell me this doesn’t bother you, because I know that she-”

“It does.” Sherlock said, still not taking his eyes off of the sheet of paper before him.

John paused, facing Sherlock and shutting his eyes to calm himself. “Then... why aren’t you reacting?” John all but yelled, slamming his hands against his thighs in a huff. “This is less than okay, Sherlock! We’ve been played - by Y/N!”

“I’m aware.” Sherlock nodded, still not looking at John.

John had to take a moment to breath and not let his overbearing frustration get the best of him. But when dealing with Sherlock, that became increasingly more difficult. “Then why aren’t you reacting?” John repeated, making his way over to Sherlock. When he received no response, John all but had it, slamming his hand against the desk.

That seemed to snap Sherlock out of it, and he flinched before glaring at John. “Would you bloody quit it? I’m trying to think!”

“Oh, you’re trying to think?” John yelled. “Well, so am I Sherlock. I am trying to think how a close friend of ours - who I thought was a close friend of ours, has been working with Moriarty this entire time!”

“Let me think and i’ll tell you.”

John laughed, throwing his head back in disbelief. “Sherlock, you can’t bloody think your way out of this one. You didn’t know - you didn’t catch it, so how the hell are you suppose to figure it out alone now?”

Sherlock finally met John’s eyes. “Oh, I won’t be doing it alone.”

John bit his lip, “you just told me to ‘let you think.’.”

Sherlock nodded, standing up as he made his way to the door. “I didn’t mean you,” Sherlock mumbled, grabbing the doorknob and swinging it open. “I meant her.”

“Hello John,” you greeted with a small smile. “Sherlock.”

part three? it’ll be the last part for this short series! let me know what you thought! and remember, reblogging always helps!

also if you’d like to be added to the tag’s list, let me know!

Tag’s list: @maellem - @starlightfound - @avengers-earths-mightiest-heroes - @wtf-clarab - @jooniwrites - @hostlyingollection - @hellsmischievousangel - @fandoms-pizza-wifi-ym13 - @starlightfound

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kuriquinn · 7 years

Text

Not Too Late

Summary: Sasuke is friendly with her – a friendliness that is simultaneously a relief and torture. Their friendship is as it always was, but she finds she is no longer satisfied by that. [SasuSakuMonth2017 – Day 2– Prompt: “Something More”]

Disclaimer: This story utilizes characters, situations and premises that are copyright Masashi Kishimoto, Shueisha, Shonen Jump and Viz Media. No infringement on their respective copyrights pertaining to episodes, novelizations, comics or short stories is intended by the author in any way, shape or form. This fan oriented story is written solely for the author’s own amusement and the entertainment of the readers. It is not for profit. Any resemblance to real organizations, institutions, products or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All fiction, plot and Original Characters with the exception of those introduced in the books, manga, video games, novelizations and anime, are the sole creation of KuriQuinn and using them without permission is considered rude, in bad-taste and will reflect seriously on your credibility as a writer. You will be thrown into a pond if you are found plagiarizing.

Warning(s): Road To Ninja OCness for the characters. So flirty, dreamboat Sasuke and emotionally stunted Sakura :P

Fanon Compliance: Takes place several years after The Flip Side

AN: Again, sorry for the lateness, unpacking is kicking my ass. But I now can see my kitchen table, so yay for small victories! Editing will be done at a later date.

This fic was inspired by Anne of the Island by LM Montgomery (my favourite author growing up!). For some reason, the scene where Anne finally figures out how she feels about Gilbert struck me as being a believable way for RTN Sakura to figure out she’s in love with Charasuke.

The clouds are rolling in, threatening a late summer storm, when Sakura finally sets foot through Konoha’s giant gates. Weary and covered in road dust, she waves at Izumo and Kotetsu, before beginning the long trudge into the centre of the village.

She’s been away for almost a month, teaching a series of seminars on antidotes throughout the five shinobi countries. As the foremost medic in Konoha (after Lady Tsunade, of course, though the Hokage is too busy running the village to make many trips these days), Sakura is in high demand for her poison expertise and field training. Although she’s proud of her skills, and the networking will be a step up when it comes time to put forth her candidacy for Hokage, she can’t help feel exhausted.

This trip felt longer and more stressful – possibly because it’s the first one she’s undertaken alone. Her former teammates are so busy these days with their own pursuits. Menma is often away on missions with ANBU – although he’s sworn to secrecy on the matter, she’s pretty sure that he’s the new ANBU commander – and Kakashi is inspiring the next generation of shinobi at the Academy. As for Sasuke, he’s been taking on more responsibility within Konoha’s military police and among his clan, and so rarely has time to spare.

He doesn’t even have the time to flirt anymore, she thinks with grim humour as she passes by the Uchiha district.

It’s quieter than usual, she notices a beat later; most days it’s bustling with activity even late into the night.

The Uchiha are one of the oldest and most respected clans in Konoha, after all, and are usually at the centre of every village tradition and activity. The atmosphere here was always such a stark contrast to her own quiet upbringing – even more so after her parent’s deaths.

Whenever she and Menma used to come here as genin to pick up Sasuke or visit him on their days off, they always ended up running into someone who needed help around the house or with their chores. His older cousins would tease him good-naturedly, and his little cousins would take along with them, in awe of their status as ninja (even if they were only genin at the time).

Sasuke would complain about it, but both Sakura and Menma could always tell that he secretly loved it. He liked people relying on him, would go out of his way to help his older aunts and uncles, and even got his teammates to help him tend to his mother’s garden.

He was even more dedicated in the years after his brother left.

He’s a good guy, that wheedling voice at the back of Sakura’s head reminds her. He’ll make someone a good partner one day.

But she shrugs away that thought, because she’s made her feelings on that particular subject very clear – both to Sasuke and herself.

Being Hokage is an important job, and demands a lot – she’s seen as much with Tsunade; there’s no way she can dedicate herself to that and a family. Besides, as Hokage she might one day end up in the same position as her parents and have to sacrifice herself for the village. The idea of leaving her child or children to grow up orphaned haunts her; she knows from experience there’s no fate worse.

Besides, there will be no shortage of children to look after in the village, especially with all of her agemates pairing off and starting families.

Ino is engaged to a civilian art expert named Kyoya, and somehow Shikamaru managed to charm the Kazekage’s painfully shy sister over the course of the past few chuunin exams. There’s to be a state wedding in Suna next month before Temari officially relocates to Konoha. Choji just recently returned from a trip to Kumo, a soft-spoken bride in tow – apparently, he didn’t want to deal with the fuss of a big wedding.

And then, of course, there’s Menma.

Sakura recalls how a few months ago, Hinata stalked across the town square and flat-out told him they were getting married. And then he sighed, like it was a huge imposition, but accepted.

It should have been the most painful moment of her life, but all Sakura could feel was happy for her friend. She has long-since grown out of her one-sided crush with the Uzumaki boy (and doesn’t it gnaw at her that Sasuke accurately predicted that!), and despite Hinata’s overbearing nature, they’ve developed a mutual respect.

I guess it’s true that they say – that people change, she muses as she leaves the Uchiha district in her wake.

She considers whether she ought to stop at the Hokage Tower first, or home, and decides on the latter. Her mission wasn’t an urgent one, so there’s no need tor report in immediately. Besides, Suna’s desert is still clinging to her skin and her hair feels stiff with sweat. She needs to bathe before she can in good conscience enter the Hokage’s presence.

ロードトウニンジャ

Sakura takes her time once she’s home, enjoying a long shower and the feel of clean clothes on her skin. She even takes a short nap before heading out into the village; there’s no food in the house, and she doesn’t feel like getting groceries this evening.

As usual she heads for the Yakiniku Q, expecting to have a nice meal and perhaps some conversation. There’s always someone around to chat with – one of the double-edged perks of being the child of heroes, she supposes.

When she arrives, she sees a table at the back where a few of her friends are sitting quietly. It’s another oddity – usually her friends are the loudest in the room – but she chalks it up to the lateness of the day.

“Sakura!” Ino gasps when she sees her. “When did you get back?”

“About an hour ago,” she replies, sliding into an empty space. “Have you all ordered yet?”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Hinata sneers. “Shouldn’t you be at the hospital?”

“I’m not due to start any shifts for another day or two,” Sakura replies, frowning at the animosity. Hinata is never pleasant per se, but she’s stopped being so confrontational since her engagement.

“You…have you spoken to anyone else since you’ve been back?” Neji asks, eyes shifting to Tenten, who shakes her head incrementally.

“No, I haven’t,” Sakura says slowly. “Guys, what’s going on? Why are you all acting so…suspicious?”

“If anyone’s acting suspicious, it’d be you,” Hinata returns. “Then again, maybe it’s just who you are. I knew you were cold, but I’d think you’d be a little more upset that your fall-back guy is dying.”

“Hinata!” Tenten objects, eyes flitting anxiously to Sakura.

It takes about ten seconds for her to understand who exactly the Hyūga heiress is talking about, and five more before the meaning behind her words sink in. Once they do, she can only stare at the pale-eyed girl in disbelief.

“What?” she echoes faintly, feeling the blood drain from her cheeks so fast that she feels dizzy.

“Shut up, Hinata,” Ino says with uncharacteristic sharpness. She regards Sakura with the air of someone preparing to diffuse an explosive tag. “Sakura, don’t look like that, it’s – Sakura, do you hear me?!”

“You shouldn’t have told her so suddenly, Neji chides his cousin, who crosses her arms unrepentantly.

“She’s strong enough to take it. You beating around the bush wasn’t doing her any favours.”

“Is it…is it true?” Sakura asks her best friend in a voice that doesn’t sound like hers. “Is Sasuke…?”

“He’s very ill,” Ino confirms gravely. “He got sick about a day or so after you left on your mission.”

Almost a month ago!

“I’m surprised Lady Tsunade didn’t mention it to you when you got back,” Neji remarks.

“I…I just went straight home,” Sakura explains faintly. Her decision to luxuriate in the shower and nap suddenly seem ridiculous and selfish in the face of this new reality. “What’s wrong with him?”

“We don’t know,” Ino says. “Whatever it is, it’s bad enough that his parents brought him to the hospital. The healers don’t – Sakura, please don’t make that face!” Because if the Uchiha, who tend to have their own private family healers see to their needs, brought Sasuke to the hospital, it has to be serious. “He’s strong – you know how strong Sasuke is. He’ll pull through.”

“Shizune was here earlier and she figures there’s no hope,” Hinata remarks, taking a sip of sake.

Ino’s jaw sets, and in a move that is utterly uncharacteristic of her, she promptly marches the Hyūga girl away before Sakura throws a punch at her.

Not that she is at all in the mind frame to do so, because she is still struggling to make sense of what all this means.

“Don’t worry, Sakura,” Neji tells her, resting comforting hand on her shoulder. “Sasuke is Uchiha. They have strong constitutions. I have no doubt that he will pull through.”

But she doesn’t miss the slight waver in his voice, as if he isn’t sure what he’s saying is completely true.

Numb, Sakura shrugs off his hand and stands to leave. She barely hears her friends worriedly call her name as she steps out into the street, staring unseeingly ahead of herself.

The rain has started in earnest since she went inside and now beats down in sheets. Passersby sprint through the road, trying to find shelter, but she barely feels the water on her skin. The air throbs with energy, vibrating with the thunder, and three blocks away, Sasuke Uchiha lies dying.

“Don’t be such an idiot.”

“You’re so annoying.”

“If you spent as much time on your jutsus as you do on flirting, you’d be better than Menma.”

“Why would I go on a date with you, you playboy?”

She remembers every single time she told him to leave her alone, or wished he would move on and get out of her life. Now that he might just do that, Sakura realises that it would be like cutting out a vital organ.

She begins to run.

ロードトウニンジャ

“What’s wrong with him?” Sakura demands as she bursts into the Critical Care ward, not bothering with a greeting.

“S-Sakura-sensei, you’re not supposed to –!”

“Symptoms, Ando, or don’t bother speaking,” she barks.

“P-patient presented with…with shortness of breath and coughing,” her intern stammers. “Within a day it transitioned into full-fledged hemoptysis, resulting in the family admitting him to Critical Care. He’s required constant monitoring and daily healing sessions to keep his lungs clear.”

“Anything else?”

“I’m really not supposed to –”

“Then don’t – pass me his chart! He’s dying and you’re wasting my time with red tape!” she snarls, grabbing the clipboard from the flustered teenager and storming down the hallway to the wing where the patients dying of terminal diseases are housed.

The fact that Sasuke has been placed there makes her want to vomit.

Upon turning the corner, she finds her way blocked by two familiar figures. Kakashi and Menma are like two pillars against the doors, both of them looking a little pale as she marches toward them.

“You can’t go in there, Sakura,” Kakashi tells her as she gets within arms reach; his usual exuberance has disappeared, replaced with a sombreness that matches Gai’s.

“The hell I can’t,” she growls. “Move before I make you move.”

“It’s Lady Tsunade’s orders,” Menma tells her. “You’re not permitted to treat a loved one, Sakura, you know that. It’s hospital policy and standard in the four laws of medical ninjutsu.”

“I am the student of the Sannin Tsunade,” Sakura bites out, thumbing at the seal on her forehead, “and I am exempt from those laws.”

“Not today, you aren’t,” Menma maintains. “If you step foot in that ward, Tsunade will stop treating him and restrain you herself. Are you willing to gamble with your friend’s life just to feel useful?”

His words cut a chink into the desperate fury that has been driving her since she left the restaurant.

Under the empathetic eyes of her friends, Sakura is forced to make a difficult decision: either stay here, useless, and let Tsunade do her best to heal Sasuke, or kick up a fuss and delay him getting the treatment he deserves.

She swallows a painful lump in her throat.

It’s really no choice at all.

Her shoulders slump and she lets Kakashi guide her out of the Critical Care ward and into the general waiting room.

She spends the rest of the night pacing every other hallways and demanding news from the nurses, until Lady Tsunade sends Shizune out and tells her she will be drugged and sent home if she doesn’t stop. After that she adopts a lone window that looks out onto the Critical Care ward across the courtyard and waits, trying not to imagine the horrors that could be happening over there right then.

That Sasuke’s died, or that the damage to his body is irreversible.

Her vigil lasts the night, through hours of the storm raging outside and the darkness that threatens to consume her. Kakashi and Menma come and go in the background, trying to tempt her to go home and sleep or eat something, but she ignores them, refusing to acknowledge anyone unless it’s someone with news of Sasuke.

Because Sakura has come to a bitter, belated revelation: that she is in love with Sasuke Uchiha. That she has always been in love with him, and she knows that now.

Her knowledge comes too late, because now she might not even get the chance to tell him. She has been so blind and foolish, so focussed on becoming something worth her deceased parents’ pride and trying to impress the one man who would never see her as more than a sister that she wasted their time.

Tsunade is right: Sakura shouldn’t be anywhere near him right now. She doesn’t deserve to be near him.

But…but if he dies…he’ll go without ever knowing how I feel. He’ll die thinking I don’t return his feelings and then…

And then she’ll be left without him.

Instantly, Sakura can see it – years and years of emptiness stretching out in front of her, all of her other dreams and ambitions fulfilled, but pale and colourless shadows of what she hoped for. Hollow, because there will be no one to share it with.

She presses her head against the cool window, feeling the vibrations of the raindrops on the other side of the pane, and for the first time since she lost her parents, she wishes she could die too. If Sasuke leaves her, if he dies without a word or sign or message between them, she won’t make it. Nothing has any value without him.

She belongs to him and he to her, and he’s always known that and she always insisted it wasn’t true.

The storm rages all the rest of the night and into the morning, the winds and thunder seeming to keep time with her pacing. Only as the heavy raindrops fade away and Sakura can’t take one more moment of sitting uselessly in the waiting room does she hail one of the nurses.

“Have you heard anything about Sasuke Uchiha this morning?” she asks, forcing her voice to remain steady and professional.

Under normal circumstances the staff aren’t allowed to share information with anyone that isn’t family, but everyone here knows Sakura and her desperation is clear on her face.

“The last I heard, he’s better,” the nurse says. “Lady Tsunade pulled him through the worst of it about half an hour ago. I heard her tell Lady Shizune that he’s going to make a full recovery.”

“And they’ve…they’ve figured out what was wrong with him?”

“Yes. Some underlying genetic condition, I believe. Once Lady Tsunade figured it out, she was able to heal the cause – oh! Lady Sakura, what’s wrong?”

Stunned and thankful, Sakura has burst into relieved tears and flees the hospital.

ロードトウニンジャ

In the wake of Sasuke’s recovery, Sakura avoids going to see him.

Menma and Kakashi press her on it, but she can’t properly explain to them what the problem is; eventually they give up trying, but she sees their judgemental looks and knows she deserves them.

How is she supposed to explain that she’s afraid to face Sasuke? His family were by his side through his sickness, while she was off pursuing her own interests for a month. No one thought to inform her of his condition, because she made it utterly clear how she felt – or didn’t feel – about him, and it was only when he was dying that she let go of her stubbornness and accepted her feelings for him.

That after everything, she hardly deserves to be his friend, let alone to love him. Even if she still has his friendship, she has no idea what to say.

The self-flagellation continues unendingly for a while, even days after Sasuke is up and about. Hinata holds a party one night to celebrate his recovery (and also to apologise for her lack of tact when she told Sakura about it), and they run into each other there. They make easy conversation, exchange pleasantries and then Sakura makes an excuse that she has to work.

For the first time in their lives, Sasuke doesn’t bother to flirt with her, and she tosses and turns in bed that night thinking what that means.

A week later he comes to see her at the hospital.

“There’s a familiar sight,” he remarks, taking note of her hunched over several charts.

Sakura jumps and stares up at him, her cheeks warming both at the sight of him and being caught unawares. “S-Sasuke! What are you doing here?”

“My final check-up was today,” he says, speaking to her in the same easy tone as he always did. “As soon as I get the okay, I’m headed to the training grounds.” He pauses, and then with the same comradely grin as always, suggests, “You want to come along? It’s been a while since we sparred, and I think Menma’s picking out china patterns or something.”

Sakura looks at him rather blankly.

“I wish I could,” she says slowly, “but I can’t. There’s a viral epidemic two towns over, and Lady Tsunade has me watching vaccine samples all night. There’s no way I can get away.” She bites her lips and offers him an apologetic glance beneath her lashes. “I’m really sorry. I’d actually love to go with you.”

“What about tomorrow afternoon then, after you’ve gotten some sleep?” Sasuke asks, apparently not put-off by her refusal.

There’s a beat of hesitation, but Sakura musters a smile. “That works for me.”

Their eyes meet for a beat longer, and then she looks away.

“I’ll be back tomorrow, then,” Sasuke states. He pauses, and then adds, “Don’t work too hard tonight, or you’ll be too tired.”

He leaves before she can think of a response.

Sakura looks after him as he goes away and sighs, throwing down her pen.

Sasuke is friendly with her – a friendliness that is simultaneously a relief and torture. Their friendship is as it always was, but she finds she is no longer satisfied by that.

She wants more than his friendship, but also more than the cheap rose of a momentary fling. Without his usual one-liners or appraising looks, she can’t tell if he’s finally moved on or is just better at hiding it. She worries that maybe he no longer feels anything for but friendship, and wonders if all her years of rejecting him have finally taken.

Sakura groans and presses her palms to her eyes.

“This is ridiculous,” she says out loud to now one. Within barely a fortnight, true love has reduced to one of those insecure girls that obsesses over a man. “I’m not doing this. I just need to…to get over it.”

If Sasuke can apparently get over her so easily, she’ll figure out how to do the same. By throwing herself into her work, if she has to. Success and ambition will have to take the place of love, and she tries to comfort herself by the fact that she’ll do great, noble work as Hokage one day, especially without having to worry about her own heart.

Unsurprisingly, she doesn’t believe herself.

ロードトウニンジャ

When Sasuke comes to pick her up from her house the next afternoon, she takes more care than she ever has with her appearance. She knows they’re only going to train, but something in her wants him to notice her as a woman – perhaps flirt with her the way he used to.

They take the long way to the training grounds, passing through the forested paths where the trees are just beginning to change their colours.

“It’s been a while since I came this way,” Sakura says, only to fill the silence between them that falls just short of companionable.

“Me too,” Sasuke says. “I think I only ever used this way because it took longer to get to the training grounds.”

“And we still always got there before Kakashi-sensei,” Sakura agrees. “Because he always had some kind of life-or-death competition with Gai-sensei that he had to finish before training.”

“Remember our first battle as a team?”

“Yes! You passed out, I got thrown into the pond and Menma ended up buried up to his head in the ground.”

“That was still less embarrassing than having to introduce ourselves,” he says.

“That’s right! You talked for ten minutes straight about your tomato garden and how much you liked salad!”

“And Menma had that huge speech about how it was his duty to repopulate the Uzumaki clan throughout the five shinobi nations,” Sasuke remembers, shuddering. “And then Kakashi figured that was a prime teaching opportunity and gave us the sex-talk.”

“That was mortifying!”

“Speak for yourself, you didn’t have him follow you home to assure your parents that he had “dutifully ensured their son would be responsible in all matters of a sexual nature”,” Sasuke says, rolling his eyes. Then he winces and says, “Sorry.”

“No, it’s…it’s alright.”

They are quiet again.

“You were always so strong in the face of that,” Sasuke says after a while. “I don’t even know what I would do without my family, but you…it just made you stronger. Even back then, you dreamed of becoming Hokage to make them proud or die trying.”

“Well…that last part of the dream has changed,” she says lightly. “Most dreams do, over time.”

“And some don’t,” he says seriously, something resolute entering his voice. He stops walking, and Sakura is forced to do the same, staring up at him in surprise. “Things haven’t changed for me – not really. There’s something – someone – I’ve always wanted, even from back then. Maybe it was always a dream, but I’m going to keep wanting it, even if it can’t come true.”

Sakura opens her mouth to speak, but the words get stuck somewhere in her throat. It’s as if she’s been struck dumb with disbelief and a mounting terror that if she speaks she’ll break the spell of what’s happening.

“I want my family to be whole,” Sasuke continues. “I want my brother back. I want my parents to grow old surrounded by grandchildren. I want my wife to be the woman I love until I die.” He peers at her intently. “In that dream, my wife is you.” Sakura barely has a chance to acknowledge the burgeoning feeling of happiness, when he takes her hands in his. “I know I said I’d wait for you, but I’ve been thinking it over. And perhaps it’s not waiting that’s the problem. Perhaps I’ve been asking you the wrong thing all these years. I’ve been asking you out on dates, when I should have been asking you to marry me.”

Marry?!

“And so…” he takes a deep breath, vulnerability crossing his features for the first time since he started speaking, “if I ask you differently today – if I ask you if you want to spend the rest of our lives together – will you give me a different answer?”

She still can’t speak – her brain is stubbornly stalled somewhere around the word ‘love’. Instead, she lifts her eyes and gazes into his for a long moment, trying to convey her answer - nstead, she lifts her eyes and gazes into his for a long moment, trying to convey her answer – yes, yes! A million times yes, you annoying man! – and he seems to understand, because he breaks into a breathtaking smile.

And then she can’t to much else but grab him by the lapels of his shirt and drag his lips down to her own.

He makes a noise of surprise, but a beat later realises what’s happening, and then his arms are around her, pulling her in closer to him. His mouth is unexpectedly soft against her own, but it becomes harder and more demanding as the kiss deepens.

Eventually they pull away from each other, and Sasuke stares down at her, breathless.

“Is that a ‘yes’?’ he pants.

“It’s an ‘I love you’, you annoying man.”

His eyes soften. “I love you.”

She blushes and hides her face in his chest.

“I don’t understand how you could keep loving me after all this time when I’ve been such an idiot,” she says, hoping that her words are lost in the fabric of his shirt.

“I tried to stop,” he says, causing her to pull away and stare up at him in anguish. “Not because you’re an idiot – you’re not – but because it’s hard to compete with someone like Menma.”

“You’ve competed with him your whole life.”

“Yeah, on arenas where we were evenly matched. When it came to your affections, he already had them without even trying.”

“I got over Menma.”

“I know that. But I still figured I needed to give you time after he and Hinata became engaged. He was your first love, after all. If I approached you right after, it would have felt like I was rubbing it in your face,” he explains reasonably. “And I…didn’t want to be your rebound.”

“You are not my rebound,” she tells him fiercely. “And Menma was no my first love.”

He cocks his head to one-side, inquisitive.

“You were,” she says, looking away and feeling her cheeks redden. “But then one day you showed up and started handing out roses to every pretty girl within a ten foot radius and I decided I didn’t want to be just another one of your admirers.”

He stares.

“Sakura, that was before we were genin even. You already…?”

She crosses her arms, defensive, cheeks red.

To her surprise, Sasuke groans and slaps himself in the forehead. “I’m a moron.”

“A bit, yeah.”

“And here I though I needed to do something dramatic like almost die to get you to accept your feelings for me, when you already had them!”

Sakura shudders.

“Don’t joke about that,” she begs, “It’s too soon.”

Sasuke sobers. “When I was sick, Tsunade told me about how you reacted. She said you almost took out Kakashi and Menma to get to me. You’d be amazed how determined I was to get better after that.”

She smiles wanly at that and shivers.

“I’ll never forget thinking you were going to die,” she whispers. “I knew right then. It was like the world shifted. I knew and…and I thought it was too late. I thought I would lose you and have to pay for my mistake by being alone forever.”

Sasuke’s eyes soften and he pulls her close, cradling her protectively in his arms. They stand like that for longer than Sakura knows, though she doesn’t care. If he wanted to stay like this forever, she would agree without hesitation.

Except he doesn’t, because he pulls away.

“Let’s make an agreement,” he suggests. “No more waiting.”

“huh?”

“We’ll tell my parents tonight and get married as soon as we can find someone to perform the ceremony,” he goes on. “And you’ll move in with me and my family, and then you’ll never have to be alone again.”

“Move in with your…Sasuke…that’s a bit…soon,” she protests weakly. “Besides, what if they’re no…alright with…with me?”

“You know my mother loves you. And my father respects you, which he’d say is more important than liking you, but he’ll learn to. If by some fluke they disapprove, we’ll just elope.”

“They’ll disown you!”

“So what? That just means they’ll have two disowned sons. It might give them the motivation they need to accept Itachi back home,” he snorts.

“Sasuke!”

“Besides, it’s occurred to me that there’s never been an Uchiha Hokage,” he continues with the air of someone musing one of life’s greatest mysteries. “No one in my family will have a problem with my wife once you succeeds Tsunade.”

Sakura blushes darkly. “I haven’t even officially said ‘yes’ yet.”

Something dark enters Sasuke’s eyes.

“I guess I’ll have to keep convincing you then,” he tells her, and then his lips are on hers again.

She decides she likes his form of persuasion.

終わり

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#ssm17 #ssm17d2 #naruto fanfiction #sasusaku #rating: teen #sasuke uchiha #charasuke #sakura haruno #rtn sakura #something more #drama #romance #angst #kuriquinn

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