#It's called being a decent person and not constantly making remarks about people's bodies you fucking jackasses

[joowee-feftynn]

So so tired of people who think being fat is something that's being "promoted" or "glorified". Sorry for thinking we shouldn't continuously shove unsolicited dieting and workout advice on someone's face because they're fat.

[dreamingofaizawa]

Potent

Alpha! Hanta Sero x Fem! Omega! Reader

***18+ Fic***

If you are under the age of 18 please vacate the premises.

Warnings: A/B/O, smut, knotting, marking, breeding kink (sorta? idk it comes with the A/B/O territory), a hint of pregnancy kink, a bit of blood

Word Count: 3.6 k

Author's Note: Ohhhhkaayyy so this has been sitting in my google doc for AGES. I think I started this in...October of last year? It's been sitting there for months and I've lacked the motivation to finish and post it but then I sent in an anon ask to @reinawritesbnha and, being the absolute queen she is, she became the little push I needed to do it. I DID IT FOR REINA!!

Also, this is some of my earliest writing and I only skimmed and edited a little bit of it so if there's a little bit of weird pacing or a strange cutoff where the writing styles clash it's because I haven't touched this piece in months.

Anywho, enjoy~

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It had to happen when you were surrounded by alphas.

Your suppressants flaked out, again, and your scent wafted through the air on the street. Normally It’d be fine for an omega to let their scent float freely around them. But your scent is particularly...potent, even when you weren’t in heat. Not only that, but you weren’t mated yet, your scent glands still bare, and you still didn’t have a pack. To make matters worse, you’re quirkless.

You hadn’t realised what was happening until your path was blocked by an especially large male alpha. You turned around, and there were two more behind you. Fuck. This isn’t good. You took in your surroundings and searched for an exit, but you couldn’t find a way out. There's no way you’d be able to outrun the three very large male alphas.

Probably the worst part is that more alphas are turning their head toward you, taking notice of your lavender honey and rain scent that slowly began turning to a sour swamp. You dared to hope that change would ward off the three cornering you, but they’d already got a whiff of you. Several distressed chirps sounded from your chest, voicing your discomfort, and you glared pointedly at the three alphas as they edged closer to you.

You hate when this happened. Why’d you have to be cursed like this? Your growls only grew, baring your little omega fangs. There’s no way in hell you’d let some stranger scent you, let alone one of these creeps. They wouldn’t take the damn hint and just crept closer to you, calling out to the ‘pretty little omega’ to ‘come have some fun’.

You’re scared now, the involuntary chirps in your chest coming more frequently. None of the other alphas or betas on the street were big enough to face the three, making you a sitting duck and a ragdoll if they wanted you to be. Your claws are small, nowhere near ideal for this situation, but you’d use them if you needed to. With a final low defiant growl you dropped your bag against the wall behind you and readied yourself for a fight.

Suddenly a large body dropped in front of you, his back to you. His scent alone hit you like a freight train, orange zest, mint, tree bark and something earthy. It had your head spinning, nearly sending you into an early heat. He growled, low and powerful, the sound rattling in your chest and making you sink further into the wall behind you. The other three alpha’s scents together were still overpowered by the new alpha before you, and they vanished faster than they appeared.

He turned around and stepped away from you, giving you space to breathe. He kneeled down enough so he was eye level with you, his hands reaching out clearly in an attempt to comfort you, but kept from touching you.

“Are you okay?” The question barely registered, still delirious from his scent, and you’re having a hard time recovering. Large hands grip your shoulders and shake you lightly, your mind beginning to clear with the soothing pheromones he’s releasing.

“Omega.” The command snapped you to attention, your gaze fixated on his own dark irises.

“Are you okay, omega?” You blink, swallow down the lump in your throat, take a deep breath.

“Yeah...I’m okay. Thank you, alpha.” But you’re not quite okay. You need to get home. Fast. The alpha seemed to catch on, probably by your scent that still hadn’t returned to normal. He stands and slips off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders and wrapping you in his scent. It’s a comforting gesture.

“Let’s get you home.” With a nod you set off, the man walking next to you with a strong, warm hand on the middle of your back.

“What’s your name?” You introduce yourself, and he does the same. His name is Sero Hanta, and now that you’re calm again, you take in just how handsome he is.

Raven hair is pulled back into a small bun, showing off his undercut and strong, sharp jawline. Onyx eyes shine with kindness and playful mischief, and a beaming grin reveals pearly white teeth. He’s incredibly toned, his muscles calmly rippling under the t-shirt that stretched over his chest. You vaguely noticed the strange shape of his elbows, but disregarded it as his quirk. The omega in you is howling, begging for this alpha, his scent invading your senses. But you suppress it quickly, reminding yourself you’d only just met this man.

As you reach your apartment you exchange phone numbers, and he tells you to keep the jacket and use it when you go out to ward off any unwanted attention. You thank him again for helping you earlier, and he waves to you as he walks down the hall and enters the elevator, the doors closing in front of his handsome smiling face.

Despite meeting him only ten minutes earlier your instincts trust the alpha, and you hold the jacket close to your face, breathing in his scent. It’s wonderful, and your inner omega is in love. You find yourself wondering when you’d see him again.

The next few days are riddled with work and calls to your doctor about the strength of your suppressants. You work from home as a secretary for a small company. It’s a miracle you’d found it, too. Nobody wants an omega, let alone a potent one. It’s an alpha’s world, you guess. When this job opening popped up you were ecstatic, so you took it and have been working from home with decent pay for the last five years.

The calls to your doctor were not going as smoothly as your job, though. You leave a message every four hours until she finally calls you back. She was concerned since the suppressants she’d prescribed are the strongest out there, and if your scent was overpowering them they were either defective or your scent glands were overproducing. It wasn’t an immediate threat to your health, it only meant you’d be drawing more attention than you wanted to. Still, it’s annoying and makes life so much harder than it needs to be.

After she prescribed twice the amount, she said she’d look over your tests from the latest visit before she hung up the phone. You groaned once the call ended. You seriously needed a break from your second gender. Taking the prescribed double dose of suppressants, you got ready to go out to the corner cafe to read and drink coffee. Hopefully the new amount will keep steady. You really don’t want to deal with any more aggressive alphas this week. For good measure you pull on Sero’s jacket, allowing his scent to cover you, then grab your keys, phone, wallet and a book and begin the walk.

When you arrive at the cafe you order a hot mocha, curl into the small corner booth and crack open the book. You got lost in the ink and your mind floated along the adventure, putting yourself in the shoes of the main character and leading the mission to take down the corrupt queen who’d framed you for killing the prince of a neighboring kingdom. You were ripped from the fantasy world when a bright, enthusiastic blonde came up and tapped you on the shoulder, making you jump. His smile was as bright as his hair.

“Sorry to scare you cutie, but I couldn’t help but notice that jacket of yours smells an awful lot like my friend Sero!” You smile softly at the blonde.

“Well if we’re talking about the same Sero Hanta, then your nose would be correct. This is his jacket.” His eyes widen as he nods.

“Oh my gosh you must be the omega he keeps talk-” The blonde’s words became muffled by a large hand. A hand that belonged to the very man you were talking about. Sero smiles apologetically down at you as he shoves the blonde back to where you assume they’re sitting.

“Sorry about Kami, he’s… extroverted.” You smile back at him, mostly because you’re happy to see him again.

“It’s no problem at all. He recognized your scent on me.” He looked down and only then realized you’re wearing his jacket, and he beams at you. Then he takes a glance at the booth you’re sitting all alone at, his smile falling just a bit.

“Do you wanna come sit with us?” You take a moment to think about the offer, then agree with a nod. Your omega couldn’t pass up more time with him.

As you approach the booth you notice there are more people with Sero than you anticipated. There were four other people sitting there. Sero introduced all of them from left to right. Bakugo Katsuki, Kirishima Eijiro, Ashido Mina, and the happy blonde from earlier is Kaminari Denki. You introduce yourself and when Sero slid into the booth, you followed after him.

These five are a tight pack, and you learn they all met in high school. Bakugo’s brash personality made you wary at first, but it didn’t take long to realize he’s just like that with everyone. He makes a bit of a snippy remark, which you easily counter, and he smirks while the rest smile or snicker. It would seem they like you.

You can’t tell what their second genders are, and you mentally kick yourself for even wondering in the first place. Their genders are none of your concern, but you can’t blame yourself when you’re constantly alert because of your own stupid second gender. As it turns out, you don’t need to wait very long to find out.

This time you smell your own scent as it permeates the air around you. You swear under your breath at the stupid suppressants that obviously can’t so their job, and the others snap their gazes to you. You sigh.

“Yeah, that scent is me. My suppressants flaked again. Sorry about that.” They all nodded, seemingly understanding. Sero must have told them about the other day. Of course, it would soon repeat. It didn’t take long for an alpha to take notice of your scent. The man -- why is it always the largest males??? -- strides up to the booth with a cocksure grin and leans down to inhale your scent. You duck away from him, into Sero, and let out an albeit small warning growl that was drowned in Sero and Kirishima’s. He ignored them all the same.

“Hey there little omega, you smell real nice. You wanna come hang with me instead? We can have some fun together with my buddies, what do you say?” The others stayed quiet. They’re going to let you defend yourself before they do anything in case they end up escalating the situation. You turn your head and lift your shoulder, hiding your scent gland.

“I’m not interested, thank you. Please leave me alone.” You hoped to whatever deity watched over you that the man would leave. Before anyone could react the alpha grabbed your wrist in a vice grip, yanking you roughly from your seat. You chirp, your scent turning sour and the entire pack abruptly stands, baring their fangs at the man. It barely registered in your head that Kirishima and Bakugo are alphas, Mina is a beta, and Kaminari is an omega, their fangs giving them away.

The man tightens his grip on your wrist and you cry out, your bones creaking under the pressure. With no other options you did the one thing that would get him to let go, and sank your fangs into his wrist. You jump back into Sero, who wraps an arm around you protectively.

“You bit me, you bitch!” He raises an arm, clearly about to try and hit you, but a large hand grabs his wrist. Surprisingly enough it’s Bakugo, and his growl is laced into his words.

“Leave now, or you lose a hand.” Sero speaks up from above you.

“You might wanna listen, amigo. That’s Dynamight.” The alpha rips his arm from Bakugo’s hold and looks down at you, and you growl at him as he scoffs and walks away, apparently not ready to fight the #2 pro hero over an omega.

You all sit back down and you pull up the sleeve of the jacket to inspect the already forming bruise on your wrist. Your nose wrinkles with a half-angry half-pained snarl. Tenderly, Sero takes your wrist and lightly squeezes the sides of your forearm, against your bones, and your lack of reaction tells him nothing’s broken. Still, he growls at the offending bruise.

“I’m gonna kill him.” You shake your head and put a hand over his.

“It’s not worth it Sero. He’s probably long gone.” You turn to the rest of the pack.

“Thank you for protecting me.” Kirishima is the first to speak.

“Of course! That dude was a jerk. I just hope he doesn’t go around doing that to other omegas.” Bakugo, surprisingly, spoke next.

“Obviously we’d protect you. You’re a potent omega and quirkless, so you attract unwanted attention without even knowing or wanting to. Besides, if you’re gonna be Sero’s omega there’s no way in hell we’d let some extra handle you like that.” The implications make your face burn, and Kirishima smacks the blonde’s arm with a ‘Don’t just say that kind of thing, Katsuki.’

After an hour or two of talking, and shockingly no other aggressive alphas, they all walk you home to your apartment. Sero wanted to check on your wrist again, so you invited them all in, but they all had something else to do, so you were left alone with Sero. The fact that the one alpha you desperately wanted to be around is alone with you in your apartment is both great and terrible. Thankfully, you have self-control and his own suppressants are working perfectly fine.

He inspected the darkening bruise on your wrist, his large hands gripping your arm tenderly and turning it gently as he prods at the skin. It doesn’t hurt too bad, so you assure him you’ll be perfectly fine. Eventually he leaves with a hug and you sigh once the door is closed, relieved that you were able to keep your omega at bay and your hands to yourself.

A couple days later you get a text from him and the two of you text often, asking how each other’s day went, if anything interesting had happened. You didn’t leave your apartment unless you needed to, since your suppressants clearly weren’t working, so you made sure to cut grocery trips short and keep away from any alphas that seemed a bit aggressive. Sero invited you to hang out with the pack at their house, and you obliged.

They lived in a huge house all together. Most of the rooms were sealed so no scents or sounds could go in or out for ruts and heats, and there were several spare rooms that were empty and waiting for more pack members. It was a fun hangout, filled with video games and good conversation, and even better food which Bakugo cooked. Sero had an arm around you whenever he was close, and you definitely didn’t mind. Your suppressants flaked in the middle, again, and Sero insisted he walk you home. With him walking you home there weren’t any alphas trying to get you this time. You ended up going over to hang out with them a lot when you weren’t working, and eventually Sero began to court you.

Obviously, you accepted, and after a few months of dating and scenting, your overactive scent glands seemed to mellow out, Sero’s scent mixing with it. Your suppressants are lasting much longer now, which is a good sign. Now that you’re Sero’s omega, he often helped you with your heats and you’d help him with his ruts, and he was strong-willed enough that he hadn’t marked or knotted you in the middle of things.

About a year and a half into the relationship you realize you really love him. Sure you had arguments, but everything was settled through calmed discussions over coffee or tea, and you came to understand each other well enough that arguments became few and far between.

You’re happy with Sero, so when your heat came around early and he was there to help, you were going to let him know just how much you loved him.

You texted him once you felt it starting. He was there within half an hour, and you pounced on him once the font door closed, smothering him in hot, wet kisses, eager to feel him inside you. He carries you to the bedroom, and you two are quick in shedding all of your clothes. He lays you on your back with a hand on your throat as he growls into your ear, making a hot shudder roll down your spine.

“Are you ready for me omega?” You whine and nod, your slick already dripping down your folds. You want him so bad it hurts.

“Please alpha, I need your cock.” He growls again, satisfied with your answer, and he presses into you, bottoming out with one firm thrust. You chant his name like a mantra as he set a bruising pace, rutting into you recklessly, wet skin slapping on skin the only other sound beside your whimpers and his growls. His teeth nip at your shoulder, sharp fangs testing your skin and claws digging into the fat of your hips. His cock is so deep, hot swollen tip kissing your cervix with every full-bodied thrust and sending you into a euphoric haze. Your own claws are sinking into his back, leaving little trails of red and blood beading down the lines. It drives him wild every time.

“That’s right, little omega. Mark me up, I’m all yours. Fuck you’re so pretty underneath me like this.” His hands grip behind your knees and press them into your chest, folding you nearly in half as he plows into you further. The angle knocks the breath from your lungs and your eyes roll back. You can feel his knot beginning to swell, feel how his thrusts are getting more controlled and his grip on your thighs tighten from the sheer concentration it’s taking for him not to breed you. You have other plans. Between wheezed breaths you squeak out.

“H-hantaaa~” He slows to a near snail’s pace, grinding his slowly growing cock into your sweet spot, a smirk stretching across his face as you splutter from the sudden change. He’s enjoying making you squirm.

“What is it, sweetness? Tell your alpha what you need.” You pant, chest heaving as much as the position will allow.

“Want your mark, want your knot~ Wanna be bred Hanta! I want your pups!” He stills completely, claws digging into the fat of your thighs with enough force to have drops of blood falling to the sheets beneath you. You’d never said anything like that in the heat of the moment. He can’t have heard you correctly...right?

“Princesa, do you know what you just said?” The seriousness in his tone has you sobering, but even before you knew exactly what you were saying. You nod frantically, wiggling your hips to get him to move again.

“Yes! I know alpha! Please, give me your knot~” His growl makes your bones shake, and with no warning he drops your legs around his waist and leans down so his face is buried in your neck.

“Fuck, I’m gonna trust you with this baby girl. I’ll give you exactly what you want.” His fangs sink into your scent gland just as he picks up his brutal pace, and the euphoria makes you cum hard, your whole body locking up and mouth falling open in a silent scream. He plows into you as you regain your breath, and you bite down on his own scent gland as hard as you can, tearing into his skin with every intention of leaving a pretty scar for the world to see.

His knot swells more, and he’s pushing it into you with every ounce of power he can generate with that gorgeous body of his. With one final snap of his hips he locks his body to yours and cums hard, ropes of hot seed filling you to the brim. He collapses on top of you and laps at the wound on your neck and you do the same. After a few minutes he leans back and cups your face in his hand, gazing down at you like you hung the moon and the stars.

“Are you alright?” You nod, nuzzling into his palm.

“I’m sorry. I was gonna talk to you about it, but my heat came early.” He kisses your forehead gently, brushing the strands of hair from your face.

“It’s okay, pretty thing. I trust you know what you’re getting yourself into.” You giggle and wrap your arms around him.

“Of course I do. I love you, Hanta.”

“I love you too.” You lay there, tangled in each other’s arms until his knot goes down. You whine at the loss when his cock slips out of you, clawing at him to come back because you’re still in heat. His hand gently wraps around your neck, a low chuckle on his lips.

“Relax, we’re far from done.” His already hard erection rubs up and down your glistening folds, barely stimulating your clit, teasing you until tears prick your eyes and you’re beggin him to fuck you again.

“When I’m done you won’t be able to walk for days. I’m gonna breed you so well, You’re gonna look so pretty all big and round with my pups.” He groans at the image he’d conjured in his head and you squeal as he slams his hips into you.

You’re in for a wonderfully long night.

[things-we-cant-say]

pretty little liar

Pairing: Ten x Female!Reader

Summary: In order to get your annoying ex off your back, you tell a little white lie that takes an unexpected turn.

Genre: College!AU

Warnings: Smutty smut, dirty dancing

Word Count: 4,867

A/N: Unable to withstand Ten’s power any longer, I had to start writing about him…or a version of him anyway. Hope someone out there enjoys my first dip into the ~imagines~ pond. ☺️

The party was in full swing by the time you and your best friend Amy arrived, the music so loud it could be heard down the street. It was a wonder the cops hadn’t broken it up yet but hey, the night was still young. Ducking through the arched doorway with Amy hot on your heels, you let her guide you into the foyer where you both stopped to take in the scene. The place was packed with people dancing, drinking and laughing—everyone apparently having a great time. Which was perfect for you because all you wanted to do was blow off a little steam and pretend you hadn’t spent the day fantasizing about committing the perfect murder.

You enjoyed school for the most part and you enjoyed your classes, but really you couldn’t wait for it all to just be over. Two extra years and your master’s degree in linguistics was almost within your grasp. You still weren’t one hundred percent what you planned to do with it (teaching was definitely out) but either way you were ready to dive into the real world. To no longer be stressed out about exams and papers and boring ass professors that constantly seemed to have a stain on their tie.

And to get far, far away from your stupid ex, Adam.

“Uh oh you have murder face,” Amy said as she peeped around to look at you. “What’s wrong?”

You shrugged. “Just in my head I guess.”

Amy hummed. “I get it. That’s why we are here though! To get fucked up and do something we regret in the morning.”

You laughed. “Guess we’re Uber-ing home.”

She grinned and grabbed your wrist, pulling you over to a table loaded with different types of alcohol. The guy ‘tending bar’ as it were winked as you two approached. “What can I get you for?”

“Something with alcohol but where we can’t taste the alcohol!” Amy exclaimed happily. “Oh! And if you’ve got any little umbrellas I’d like one of those too.”

He did finger guns and proceeded to cook something up in two red cups, sticking in two pink umbrellas when he was done. You and Amy took your drinks and after a cursory sniff, took a sip. The tequila wasn’t as strong as with a single shot but you could still detect it just not enough to make you stop drinking. Unlike Amy you didn’t plan to get completely fucked up but you weren’t going to say no to a nice buzz.

Cups in hand you migrated onto the dance floor and fell in with everyone else, bopping to the beat and scream chatting over the loud music.

“I really needed this!” Amy yelled. “Statistics is kicking my cute little ass!”

“I know what you mean!” You shouted. “But hey! Soon we’ll be done and actual jobs will be kicking our cute little asses!”

Laughing, Amy bounced up and down, sending her blonde hair flying. “Is that why you’ve been so grumpy lately? Or is it…he who shall not be named?”

With a sigh you took a big sip of your strawberry margarita. “Yeah. He keeps fucking calling me and leaving me these stupid ass messages, apologizing and shit. I’ve blocked him but he just uses someone else’s phone.”

Amy’s eyes stretched wide. “That’s like stalker behavior! Or maybe he really is sorry for what he did.”

You snorted. “Sorry for having sex with his ex in the backseat of my car? As far as I am concerned he can take his ‘sorrys’ and shove them so far up his ass they come out his mouth as safaris!”

Amy choked a little on her drink, hitting you hard on the arm in admonishment after she stopped coughing. “I hate you! I could have died!”

Her words made you smirk. “But did you? No but for real, fuck Adam. Fuck Adam and anyone who even looks like Adam!”

“Woo!” Amy threw both hands up into the air, yelping as liquid sloshed down onto her head. “Oh shit! Drink emergency I’ll be right back!”

Before you could say anything, she turned and hurried back towards the drink table. Alone in the middle of a dancing crowd, you didn’t know whether you should slink over to a corner or just keep dancing. That last thing you wanted was some random dude trying to groove with you. Of course if you decided to hold up the wall nothing would stop some random dude from trying to hit on you either. At a bit of a loss you drained the rest of your drink and did a I don’t really know anyone two step, hoping Amy would return soon.

The tequila settled nice and warm in your stomach, making you feel more at ease. Most of the people at the party were from your school but not ones you associated with on like, a daily basis. Sure you recognized a few faces from the library or cafeteria but there was no one you’d had more than a surface conversation with.

And then your eyes landed on him. Ten.

Ten was a…different sort of person altogether. He was the kinda guy CW shows thought actually existed in college, except he was very real. And very much fucking gorgeous in that unattainable way CW shows also loved. However, that sort of did him a disservice because as far as you knew, he was just a decent guy who happened to be able to do some pretty awesome things.

For example, he was an amazing dancer. The kinda dancer that just freaking mesmerized you when he moved. Had you wondering how in the hell had he taught his body to do that shit? One minute he was in total sync with everyone else and the next he was performing his solo and blowing your mind. He’d done some show a few months ago with a friend and you’d nearly flipped out of your chair watching him work. The body rolls, the attitude, the way he’d just commanded the stage…whew. Was it possible to be a fan of someone who wasn’t famous?

Then there was his art; things he designed himself or drew from memory. Art class was essentially where you’d sorta came to be acquaintances with him. You weren’t exactly good at drawing but you liked it enough that you wanted to improve, plus it helped you de-stress after particularly hard days. Ten on the other hand excelled and just like with dancing, it was interesting to watch his process. He’d described himself as a sensory artist so he wasn’t always as concerned with the end product as the professor sometimes wanted him to be. From your eye though he’d yet to create anything that wasn’t remarkable. In fact, more than once you’d wanted to ask him to design a tattoo for you, but felt it would be kinda weird. He had no idea what you were into after all. So far your conversations with him had consisted of colors and that one time he’d asked to borrow one of your brushes.

You were pretty sure he’d sold something to an art gallery.

Anyway so Ten could dance and he could draw and he could sing and he was fluent in several languages; as far as you knew the only thing he was kind of shit at was cooking. But who hadn’t set a class kitchen on fire once or twice? Or three times…

If he were an asshole—well people would probably still crush on him—you’d count that as a major flaw and want to keep your distance. But the kicker was that he could do cool things and he was nice. Dorky even especially when it came to cute animals. Was always posting pictures of himself at the animal shelter playing with the kittens and the puppies, or just acting like an idiot with friends. Yet it was that confidence that made him seem untouchable, and also made him sexy as fuck. More than once you’d fantasized about biting his Adam’s apple.

Heh.

Shaking your head, you fanned lightly at your face with both hands. Maybe stepping outside for some fresh air would be a good idea.

“Y/N!” Amy nearly tripped over her pretty sandals in her hurry to get back to you. “Weewoo weewoo weewoo!”

“Um…”

She grabbed your shoulder. “It’s a police siren! We have a code red situation here, I repeat a code red! Adam just walked in!”

“What?” You blinked and immediately looked towards the doorway, brows narrowing when you saw she was right.

Standing there in a white t-shirt in his formerly handsome glory was your ex-boyfriend, Adam. Once upon a time you’d thought the world of him; thought he was the kinda guy you could probably marry someday. The kinda guy you’d introduced your family to. Turns out he was the kind of guy that hooked up with his ex in your car repeatedly until finally being caught in the act. Sure it had been gratifying to make him and her walk home half naked but it had done nothing to quell the pain left behind. Thankfully though your pain quickly turned to anger and now you usually focused on not murdering him when he popped up. There was a lot you could forgive but cheating was firmly in the do not cross zone. Everything you’d felt for him evaporated the moment you saw him with her.

And he’d promised he was over her. Lying piece of shit, you thought to yourself.

“What the hell is he doing here?! Does he even know anyone here?” you asked with a frown.

“I dunno!” your friend said slowly. “It’s possible, big campus and all. Do you want me to help you climb out of the bathroom window?”

“Yeah my boobs aren’t fitting through one of those skinny ass windows,” you replied wryly. “Though to be honest I’m almost willing to risk it. C’mon let’s—”

It was too late. Adam spotted you like an arrow searching for its target, eyes registering shock and then elation. He reached you in three quick strides, opening his arms for a hug that he was damned crazy to expect. “Y/N. Wow you—you look amazing. I’m so glad we ran into each other.”

You huffed. “I’m not. I told you we’re over Adam. Or does me blocking your calls not get the message across?”

He exhaled deeply. “Look I know I messed up but I’m sorry. Classes were just really tough and—and Lucy and I would reminisce about old times…”

“Do I look like I give a shit? You cheated on me and we’re over.” The lie came so easily. “Besides, I’ve moved on.”

“Yeah!” Amy poked him in the chest. “She’s moved on so suck it!”

Adam arched a brow. “You’ve moved on?” He sounded skeptical and that made your blood boil. “Since when? And with who?”

You’d once heard that Hippocrates came up with the saying drastic times call for drastic measures though it wasn’t something you’d be willing to bet money on. However, standing there with your ex eying you like he just knew you were lying brought a whole new meaning to the idiom. You would one hundred percent be damned before giving him the satisfaction of gloating.

Tequila’s kicking in…

Without missing a beat, you put a hand on your hip and motioned to Ten. “Him. I’m seeing him.”

Amy made a sound like a cat having its tail stepped on while Adam gaped at you. “What? I—no. No way. You’re totally lying. I’ve seen the people he’s dated and you’re not his type at all.”

This bitch.

Twirling on your black heels, you strolled across the room to where Ten sat in an arm chair, chatting with a few of his friends. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you straddled his lap and leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I know this is awkward as fuck—I’m so sorry—but if you just play along I will owe you big time. I’ll give you anything. You need a kidney? You can have a kidney.”

Ten’s friends had gone mute and as you sat back to gauge his reaction—or to possibly be thrown off of him—you bit your full bottom lip. His dark eyes were watching you calculatingly, his own lips pursed together like you were a riddle he needed to solve. Up close he was utterly breathtaking, all smooth skin and silky black hair that fell artfully across his forehead. He smelled incredible.

And then he spoke.

“There you are baby,” he said wrapping an arm around your waist. “I’ve been looking for you.”

That was when you figured you owed him your first born but it was fine. “Well, you found me. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

He chuckled. “You’re worth waiting for.”

His friends still looked confused though they didn’t have time to voice their opinions. Adam stalked over seconds later like a man on a mission. “So it’s true? You and Y/N are together?”

Ten tilted his head to the side and you saw the moment the lightbulb went off for him. “Yeah we’re together.”

Adam huffed. “Since when? For how long? Where did you two meet?”

Ten smirked. “Are you taking a survey or something?” He brushed his lips across your jaw, making you shiver. “The only thing that matters is that she’s mine. Let’s dance, Y/N.”

“I would love to,” you replied with a smile. You were also grateful he’d remembered your name.

You climbed off of his lap and took his hand, sending Adam a you thought look before pulling Ten out into the thick of the crowd. Your heart was beating a mile a minute but you felt too giddy to pay much attention to it. Plus, you knew Adam was watching you like a hawk and you didn’t want to let on how nervous you actually were. If he found out you were lying he’d never leave you alone and consider you pathetic to boot. Besides the nice buzz that was finally creeping down your spine told you everything would be fine. How could it not be?

Ten’s hands settled low on your hips and he gave you a little tug, pulling your back to his chest. You fit rather perfectly with him, his chin brushing the top of your head. Picking a rhythm in the song that thumped with bass, you began to move together. You rolled your ass against him and leaned your head back to rest on his shoulder, focusing on his breath as it ghosted across your neck. A silver of light wouldn’t have been able to get between you.

Normally you wouldn’t have dared to do something like this with a near stranger but your desire to make your ex suffer was bigger than your nerves. Besides Ten appeared to be all in on the ruse; his body twisting and curving in sync with yours, fingers on his right hand sliding up between your breasts to wrap lightly on your throat. His teeth nipped at your earlobe and you gasped. Reached around to his side to clasp his shirt for an anchor. You heard him chuckle and suddenly you were spun away from him only to be reeled back in, this time face to face.

The room felt like it was two hundred degrees. You weren’t exactly wearing much—a slinky black dress with tiny ties at the hem—but even that seemed too much. Without missing a beat though you and Ten continued to grind with one another, his thigh just barely pushed between your own. Every time you swayed forward to meet him the denim of his jeans rubbed deliciously against you, sending sparks sprinting through your veins. Both of his hands were on your ass as if helping to guide you, and as you met his gaze you couldn’t help but bite your lip at what you saw there. Desire, lust, hunger—no one had ever looked at you like that before. Like they could just devour you and still not have enough of you.

It made you feel powerful.

You grinned and wrapped an arm around his neck, fingers giving his hair a little tug. He hissed and lowered his head so that he could mouth at your bare shoulder, hands squeezing your ass so hard it nearly hurt. You weren’t sure when you started to get wet—maybe it was the moment you sat on his lap or he decided to play along with your dumb stunt—but you could tell it now. Your panties were sticking to you, your skin was on fire and it was becoming difficult to think straight. Honestly however you didn’t want to think at all, especially not if it meant not being in Ten’s orbit.

“Ten,” you whispered into the skin under his jaw.

He hummed, the sound vibrating through your body. You plastered your hand to his chest and pulled it down, nails catching on the thin material of his shirt until they were brushing along the zipper on his jeans. You gave him a quick squeeze—he was hard and straining—and he cursed loudly. Between one second and the next he was dragging you down a dimly light hallway, past kissing couples and one guy passed out drunk in the doorway of someone’s room. He swung you both into the first vacant room he came to; a lavish bathroom at the very back of the house. The door was closed with a swift thump and the lock clicked shut.

You licked your lips as he crowded you back into the counter, looking down at you with a tiny smirk. That part of your brain that yammered on about bad decisions was surprisingly quiet, so you figured it was beyond okay to pull him down for a kiss. As with most of the stuff he did, Ten was a damn good kisser. His mouth was soft and warm, his tongue playful and coaxing. He kissed you like he’d been waiting to kiss you for a long time. Until it grew deep and sensual. Until you were both panting with the need for air but neither wanting to let go of the moment.

With a gasp you tilted backwards a bit, your knees suddenly weak. “Fuck me,” you said absently.

“Can I?” Ten asked, chest heaving. “Can I fuck you?”

“God yes,” you replied, already pulling your dress up until it hitched around your waist.

Ten hooked his thumbs onto the band of your pink panties and slid them down your legs, laying them next to the sink. He looked you over with that same eye he used for his art but you could tell he liked what he saw. You grabbed his hand and brought it between your legs, spreading them wider for him. Two of his fingers slipped inside of you without any resistance to find you damp and aching, already so hot for him. He started a lazy rhythm—in and out, in and out—like he was in no hurry at all. Like he wasn’t driving you crazy all the way down to the tips of your toes.

He kept his eyes locked onto yours as he touched you, lips slightly parted like he couldn’t believe this was happening. That rang true for both of you. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d ever really be friends with Ten, let alone about to hook up with him. It was like you’d stumbled into some alternate universe.

Bringing his free hand up to your cheek, he smoothed his thumb across your lips, pressing lightly until you let him in. You sucked his thumb into your mouth and gave it a little nip, smiling when he smirked. When he deemed it wet enough, he pressed it to your clit and you moaned, your hips stuttering upward with a will of their own. He began a firm massage, working your clit this way and that, fingers still thrusting in their maddening motion. Of course he’d be great with his hands. Of course he’d be able to play your body like a finely tuned instrument.

Pressure started to build low in your stomach. “I—I’m…”

“Turn around.” Ten took a step back and made a show of sucking his fingers into his mouth, tongue darting out to lick between them like he wanted to savor every drop.

You whimpered but did as he requested, your eyes finding his in the wide silver mirror. You watched as he unzipped his pants and pushed them along with his dark colored briefs down to the floor. You hadn’t seen him pull out a condom but he had one; ripping open the packaging with his perfectly straight teeth before rolling it onto his hard cock. It was a delicious looking thing you had to admit, long and thick with a slight curve. If you’d had the time you would have gladly went to your knees for him.

A low breath shuddered out of Ten’s lungs as he pushed inside of you, his hands gripping your waist so strongly you were bound to have a few bruises later. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

It had been a while since Adam and nobody after him until now.

When he assumed you’d adjusted to the size of him, he pulled nearly out before driving back inside of you. You moaned and pushed back to meet his thrusts, feeling the pleasure shattering through you. Your breasts bounced as he moved and he reached a hand forward, tugging down the top of your dress so that he could cup one. He rolled your nipple between his fingers and pinched, bending over you so that he could bite down onto the tender skin of your shoulder. The motion sent him even deeper and you both groaned at the feeling.

“Te—Ten,” you stammered, losing your train of thought when he rolled his hips liked he did on the dance floor. “Oh fuck! Fuck!”

The picture you made in the mirror was a very erotic one; you could see every single expression on Ten’s handsome face. The utter enjoyment he was obviously finding in fucking you was written all over it; there was nowhere for it to hide. His head was tipped back, eyes fluttering closed only to pop back open so that he could watch himself shove into you over and over again. He had you up on your tip toes, nose just an inch from the mirror itself. He was always sexy but tonight that word took on a whole new meaning.

All you could do was try to give as good as you got.

You slapped a hand onto the sink to steady yourself and clenched around him, reveling in the low whine that escaped his throat. It kinda sounded like your name.

And then he was pulling all the way out, dick bouncing as he stumbled backwards. You blinked in confusion. “Wh--what’s wrong?”

Ten ran his fingers through his hair. “C’mon. I want you to ride me.”

He sat down on the closed toilet seat lid and you straddled him without a second thought, sinking down onto his dick with a full body shudder. With your dress around your waist and your breasts jiggling in his face as you bounced up and down on his cock, he traced his tongue around your nipple before lightly biting down. You tangled your fingers in his hair and panted out his name, letting out a squeak when his palm connected with your ass for a hard slap. Planting his feet on the floor, he leaned you backwards a bit as he drove into you repeatedly, eyes watching how well your pussy took him.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured against your collarbone. “Gorgeous—you feel so good.” He bit you again, this time on the side of your neck. “So good.”

With one hand on his shoulder to brace yourself, you rose up and let yourself come down hard over and over again, feeling him pound so deep it was almost criminal. Had the music not been so loud you knew exactly what you would have heard; the sound of skin hitting skin as Ten fucked you like he owned you. Just for tonight, maybe he did.

You weren’t sure how long it went on but when you came it still managed to take you by surprise. Your body lit up like a Christmas tree from the inside out and you cried out Ten’s name, clenching around him, your nails digging into his shoulder blades. He muttered a drawn out fuuuuck and pinched your clit with this thumb and forefinger, making you jerk so hard you nearly tumbled off his lap.

“Ah! Ten!” You shouted as he kept it up. “I—no—oh god—”

Your pussy tightened around him again and he shivered, thrusts growing erratic as he came with a grunt. You trembled through a second orgasm almost in disbelief—usually the only thing that could get you off twice in a row was hidden under your bed in a shoe box.

Seconds later you flopped against him, attempting to catch your breath. He was still rolling his hips just a tiny bit, making all the too sensitive areas ping.

“Whoa,” he said breathlessly, wrapping both arms around your waist. “That was…”

You chuckled softly. “Yeah…” Chancing a look at him, you admired the way strands of his dark hair stuck to his sweaty forehead. He was glistening, shirt sticking to his chest. He smelled like hints of your perfume and you smelled like hints of his cologne. It was all so intimate.

Reluctantly you sat back and gazed at him, wondering if things were about to get awkward. But Ten just smiled and ducked his head a little, a barely there blush creeping up into his already flushed cheeks. It was so adorable you couldn’t have resisted kissing him if you tried. From the way he melted into you, he’d had the same idea.

After a few minutes of just enjoying the feel of his lips against yours, you forced yourself up off of him. Your legs shook; you had to grab the counter to keep from tripping in your heels. You could already tell you’d still feel him tomorrow and the thought made you kinda dizzy, but in a good way. Blinking at your reflection—your hair was a dark mess—you knew there was no way you’d be able to hide the love bites that adorned your skin. They stood out stark red and purple like a bruise.

Ten remained slouched on the toilet for a couple of moments before removing the condom and tossing it into the trash. He dabbed at his dick with a handful of toilet paper, and then pulled up his underwear and jeans. “So…can I ask you something?”

You fixed your dress. “Sure.”

“Who was that guy?” he inquired with a grin. “The one you obviously wanted to get away from.”

Oh shit you’d forgotten all about Adam! “Oh he—he’s my dumb ex. He jumped stupid at me and I—I wanted to show him that he’s an idiot. That I’m totally over him. I—I’m sorry for getting you involved.”

He laughed as he patted down his hair. “No complaints from my end. I think he got the message though.” Reaching behind you he handed you your panties. “Don’t wanna forget these.”

It was ridiculous to be embarrassed considering what you’d both just done, but you couldn’t help it. You took them from him and pulled them on, keeping your eyes on the ground. “Thanks… Look Ten—”

“I’m hungry,” he said interrupting you. “Have you ever had grilled dried pollack?”

“Um yeah once I think,” you replied uncertainly. “It was pretty tasty.”

Ten motioned behind him. “I know a place that makes it if you wanted to go. And…maybe afterwards we could just hang out. Talk.”

That sounded amazing. “I’d love to. But…”

He picked up on your meaning. “Y/N I sit next to you in all of our art classes. I make conversation with you for no reason. Do you really think I of all people forget my brushes? Honestly I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while but you’ve always seemed…disinterested.”

You were dumbstruck by his admission. “Me?! That’s just my face! You’re the unattainable ingénue or whatever!”

Ten chuckled, folding his arms across his chest. “Oh please the only thing standing between me and being a serious cat dad is having an apartment that allows animals. However, this conversation is pointless. You owe me and I’m collecting…if that’s okay?”

You huffed but couldn’t stop grinning. “It’s perfect.”

The walk from the bathroom to the living room had everyone staring with a few people letting out loud whistles. Adam had disappeared but Amy was there to give you a big thumbs up. You promised to call her later and then let Ten pull you outside into the warm night air, your fingers happily entwined with his.

[cjsees-art]

@dantelionwishes hope you don't mind another student joining the class—this is hiroharu aki, aka COMPOUND, the combination hero!

(image description, quirk description, and fun facts under the cut)

[image description: A full-body drawing of a tall Indian-Japanese teenager with a loose braid, wearing the UA uniform of a grey suit jacket, red tie, and dark teal pants. He is putting on a poker face, but small sweat drops indicate that he is nervous.

The image background is a series of purple boxes on a white backdrop, with darker purple halftone dots overlaid on top. The text on the image is yellow, black, and white, and reads as follows:

"Hero Name: COMPOUND

昭博遥

Aki Hiroharu

CV: Kenichi Suzumura

Birthday: 10/27

Height: 177 cm

Quirk: Fusion

Hiroharu, usually called Haru, puts everything he has into schoolwork. His unusual Quirk requires him to constantly train and temper his moral compass and self-control whenever he has a free moment, which has ended up making him quite the stickler for rules. He doesn't look all that intimidating (and he really doesn't try to be), but he does forget that he's allowed to slow down and have fun sometimes. One of his biggest character flaws is stubbornness - all that training makes it very hard for someone to change what he thinks is right, even if it isn't." /end image description]

Haru's Quirk is Fusion, which allows him to combine his body with that of another human being's simply by touching them. The resulting fusion is a much more powerful combination of the two people's individual features, both physical and mental (the fusion also bears a slightly muted version of the other person's Quirk, if applicable). The fusion has a single mind, and has the overall morals of the person with the stronger willpower of the two, hence why Haru spends most of his free time building that willpower. The Quirk comes with notable benefits in that it is remarkably diverse, and Haru can use it in a variety of ways; both as a support power by combining with other heroes, or as an offensive power by combining with villains and turning himself in, to unfuse later and leave the villain safely in custody. However, it also bears considerable drawbacks, one of which is that the effect can last no longer than one hour, and leaves both parties phenomenally tired.

(and before anyone asks no I have not watched steven universe)

fun facts:

he's a pretty decent physical fighter, but his last growth spurt was pretty recent and he's still clumsy from it

not actually that pushy about rules (like, say, iida), but is known throughout the school for being that one kid who will mutter "don't do that" without looking up from his book while he gently confiscates your phone or snack or what have you

focuses so intently on doing the right thing that he often forgets he's allowed to have fun or be happy at all while doing it/reaping the rewards

case in point:

"ah. I got one of the best grades in the class on this exam. this is the right thing to do. good."

"whoa haru you did so well! that's amazing!"

haru, internally, with the most stunned sparkly eyes you ever did see: "I did.... well?? I'm........ amazing????"

carries so much tension in his shoulders it's astounding how he can still move

Surprisingly gullible for such a morally righteous guy—he'll believe whatever you say if he trusts you, so long as it isn't something that breaks any rules

would be pansexual if he ever thought about it for more than two seconds

his hero name, COMPOUND, is always written in all capital letters (for impact? for dramatic flair? an acronym? who knows)

the hardest thing for him to resist is candy—he loves it 🍬

[jungleslang]

I'm sorry, but I cannot understand people who say that Elriel shippers hate Lucien and want to cause him pain or are advocating for him to experience pain and ultimately be unhappy. I understand that the mating bond is a huge deal in fae culture, and that it's more difficult to deal with for the male than for the female. But shipping Elain with Azriel despite this does NOT mean that I hate him. The opposite is actually true. It literally makes zero sense.

I've seen this argument too many times throughout the years, and I saw it again today, so I've decided to address it. I'm going to discuss why Elriel doesn't equal Lucien being unhappy, as well as some Elriel and Vucien foreshadowing, and why this could lead to Lucien's happiness. Be aware that I'm obviously biased, and this is in no way meant to hate on Elucien or Elucien shippers. I'm just addressing this specific argument. All ships are valid, and we don't ship shame in this house. This is just my personal opinion, and I know that what I ship might not be endgame.

Also this is gonna be pretty long, don't say I didn't warn you.

I want to start off by saying that a big reason why I don't ship Elucien is honestly BECAUSE I love Lucien. Elain has consistently shown not even an ounce of interest in him for the past three books. Lucien himself also says that Elain was "thrown at him," while Jesminda, his past love, chose him. Elain has never used or shown her appreciation for any of the gifts Lucien gave her (which is her right). She has clearly stated that she does not want a mate. She also currently has feelings for Azriel, and it's been said that Elain "shrinks" in Lucien's presence, her newfound boldness suddenly gone. I'm sorry, but why would I want this for Lucien?? Why would I want Lucien to be with a woman who does not love him and currently has feelings for another male? A woman who literally shrivels up when he is near her? Lucien deserves to love and be loved wholeheartedly. And of course, Elain does, too.

Additionally, Lucien's words about Jesminda highlight that having a choice and being truly chosen are things that matter to him. And who are the people that Lucien has actively chosen to be with? Jurian and Vassa. Lucien is a centuries old fae male, with experience in multiple courts, and he's chosen to shack up with two humans in the human lands. That means something, and it shows that Vassa and Jurian are the people he feels comfortable with, the people he trusts, and most importantly, the people who make him feel wanted. Wanted enough to literally live with them after all of his trauma, after being barred from his home in the Spring Court by Tamlin, a person he loved cherished more than anyone else. And Jurian and Vassa have also chosen him.

As someone who absolutely loves Lucien, THIS is what I want for him. For him to be with people he chose and who in turn chose him. I want what's best for him, and so far, the text has indicated that Jurian and Vassa are what's best for him. I mean come on, the three of them literally created a name for themselves, the Band Of Exiles. The one time we saw Lucien actually laugh in ACOWAR was when he was with Vassa at the end. He blushes at the mention of her and has a "spark" in his eyes when he talks about her. Let's also not forget about this part in ACOFAS:

Lucien says that he's not living with them, the manor belongs to all of them. And even Feyre remarks how he's more comfortable around them, two humans, than people of his own race. I feel like this part is so overlooked. To me, it really demonstrates that Lucien has indeed found a home with these people, a home that belongs to all of them, and that he feels he truly does belong with them.

Additionally, it bothers me when people imply that rejecting the mating bond automatically equals unhappiness while accepting it guarantees love and happiness. Elain and Lucien rejecting their mating bond does not mean that Lucien is doomed to be unhappy and in pain for the rest of his life. And accepting it does not mean they'll be happy, either. We literally have proof of this in the books, and it comes in the form of Rhysand's parents. Rhys says that his parents were wrong for each other, and that his mother eventually came to hate his father, only staying with him because she was grateful to him for saving her wings. That is not a happy relationship.

Also, something that is one of the biggest hints toward Elriel for me, is the fact that every single mated couple we see in the books that actually ended up together had feelings for each other BEFORE the mating bond snapped into place. Rhys had feelings for Feyre while they were under the mountain, and Feyre fell in love with Rhys before she knew they were mates. Nessian's mating bond also didn't snap into place until after they already loved each other. And we also have Kallias and Viviane, who were in love before they discovered they were mates. These relationships all had solid foundations before the mate bond came came into play. Romantic feelings were established before the bond. For Elucien, this was not the case. Their mate bond snapped into the place the day they met each other, which directly mirrors Rhys' parents, whose mate bond snapped into place the moment they met and who also weren't right for each other. (Coincidence? I think not.)

We also have to remember that we have never been inside Lucien's head, with the exception of that one scene where Feyre infiltrates his mind while he's talking to Elain. That one glimpse alone mainly deals with the feelings he has for Elain due to his instincts because of the mate bond. It's also where he says Elain had been thrown at him. We don't actually know the extent of what he feels or doesn't feel for Elain. We don't know if he has romantic feelings for her outside of his instincts because of the bond, which we know is important based on what we discussed above. Yes, Lucien gives her gifts and clearly wants to get to know her, but we don't know whether he's just doing this out of obligation because the bond is so important in fae culture. Which might also be the reason Elain hasn't formally rejected him yet.

I think that there is a decent chance that this is the case based on what we've seen in the books. I also get the feeling that Lucien might be pursuing Elain out of obligation because Elain hasn't given him the time of day, and they've had no meaningful moments/conversations up until now. He doesn't really know her. How can you have feelings for someone you don't know and haven't spent any real time with? There are also these scenes from ACOFAS and ACOSF:

In ACOFAS, Feyre says that Lucien doesn't seem to have a real interest in bridging gap between him and Elain. In ACOSF, Cassian says the words "my mate" drip with discomfort when Lucien says them. This indicates that he's not so comfortable with calling Elain his mate / having her as his mate.

I also think this part is important because the level of comfort the characters have with each other is a distinguishing factor of the ships. Lucien is more comfortable around Vassa than Elain, while Elain is more comfortable around Azriel than Lucien.

As I stated before, this is the only time we see Lucien laughing in ACOWAR. Additionally, his shoulders are loose, indicating that he is not only comfortable but also relaxed, which is a rare thing for Lucien in the recent books with all the shit he has going on. In contrast, there's always a tension underlying his and Elain's interactions. Based on the fact that Vassa is chatting with him "animatedly," I would say she's likely comfortable around him, too.

There are also these two passages from ACOMAF, which I'm sure every Elriel shipper already knows lol.

We can also see that Elain has been at least somewhat comfortable around Azriel from the start, even when she was afraid of the fae and engaged to a fae-hating man. She even engaged him in a genuine conversation about flying. These two excerpts also show that Elain is somewhat attuned to Azriel as well. She notes his body language and uses it to gauge the situation. This also indicates a certain level of trust in him. And this has only increased as the story progressed. He's content to just sit beside her in the garden, she tells him about her plans for the garden, and they stay up late talking to each other. Their interactions signify how at ease they are with each other, which I think is big thing for Azriel, who's always described as cold and filled with an icy rage. Rhys says it took Mor centuries to get Az to loosen up, but he eased up around Elain in a remarkably short amount of time for someone usually so closed-off.

So, the conclusion here is that Elucien is not the only ship that guarantees all characters' happiness as some people say. Lucien is completely capable of being happy and finding a home without Elain accepting the bond, and the evidence is in the books. The fact that Lucien actively chooses to live together with Jurian and Vassa, and that Elain has constantly chosen to be around Az while showing no interest in Lucien is the reason while I will always stan Vucien and Elriel over Elucien. It's all about choice for me, which is something that's also emphasized in the books and seems to be important for both Elain's and Lucien's arcs.

And all Elriel shippers absolutely don't hate Lucien. If I'm being honest, I actually like Lucien as a character more than Azriel. While I am a diehard Elriel stan and I adore Az, Lucien is a more interesting character to me. He was raised in the Autumn Court, lived in the Spring Court, and ended up becoming part of the Night Court, as well. Then we find out he's the heir to the Day Court, and now he lives in the human lands with Jurian and Vassa. He has connections to so many places, and yet struggles to belong. He was lost, and found a home with two other lost people. The Lost Queen Vassa, and a human who was resurrected in a world that moved on without him.

This is also why, in my opinion, Vucien / The Band of Exiles has so much more potential than Elucien. I don't want another story about mates ending up with each other. Give me the found family trope that is the Band of Exiles.

If you've made it through this whole thing, thank you. As always, I'd love to hear your opinions!

[nyctophilin]

I Was a Fool | I

sweet anon: May I request a forced marriage with Mafia!Changbin, please? Where like he's cold at first, but then they fall in love in the edn? And can there be some smut as well,,, sorry if this is too much lol.

Chapter I, Chapter II, Chapter III

Description: She has been in love with her best friend for as long as she can remember. However, life doesn’t always like to play in your favour. Forced into a marriage she didn’t want to happen she lives her days lonely and unhappy the only thing bringing her joy being the occasional hangouts with her best friend. At some point, her husband starts to get bothered by the said hangouts.

All rights reserved © nyctophilin 2020. Re-posting, copying and translating any of my works is prohibited.

Pairing: Changbin x fem!Reader, Lee Know x fem!Reader

Word count: 3.2k

Genre: Mafia!AU, Forced Marriage!AU, Angst, Fluff, eventual Smut

Warnings: heartbreak, rude Changbin, spelling/grammar mistakes

A/N: Anon, I know Minho is not part of the request but it just felt right to put it in. I felt like I can create more drama if he was there and who doesn’t love drama? I hope you don’t mind.^^ I have so many ideas for this mini series. I’m so excited for it. I hope you all like it. Feedback is very much apreciated. 

      She stretched slowly, the sun bathing her in its rays. Although it was pretty hot outside a breeze will start occasionally making the bottom of her dress fly up ever so slightly and cooling her heated body. They were close to the bank of a river, settled on a soft blanket, a few dished making it impossible for them to be as close as they wanted to be to each other.

      She stole a glance at her best friend who was propping himself on his palms while looking at the few ducks that were populating the river. She has known Minho since her sophomore year of high school. He was a transfer student from another city. At the time his dad had got a new job in her city and they had to move.

      He intimidated her at first. He was quiet when he wasn’t with people from his class that he befriended and he constantly had a resting bitch face on. They actually started talking because of a...let’s call it a cliché accident. She can still remember it so vividly.

      She was walking towards the school’s cafeteria with her friends after their French class. Oh, how much she hated French. Not only was the grammar complicated but they also had an awful teacher. He didn't know how to explain things and he was very demanding.

      “Class, today we will talk about something sophisticated and I expect all of you to already know about it because how dare you not know everything about France?” She heard one of her friends mock the teacher and she giggled lightly. 

      “You did it wrong. You have to add a French accent and more spitting to it. This man went to France once for a week and suddenly he forgot where he is from.” Her other friend rolled her eyes when she remembered the teacher’s antics.

      “Oh come on. You guys are so mean!” She finally spoke just a tiny bit of sarcasm present in her voice.

      “Oh please! You are the one that hates him the most.” Her friend challenged her with a raised eyebrow.

      “Hate is a strong word. I just don’t have the same vision as him on most things.” She felt one of them nudge her in the back with her elbow and she adopted an offended frown. “Stop, I am serious!”  She nudged her back and they started pushing each other. A particularly hard push from one of her friends had her bolting forward and knocking down the person in front of her, falling over them.

      When she lifted her head and noticed who she hit she was up in a second. The second he spent getting up from the floor she was thinking of all sorts of excuses she could say. When he turned towards her she opened her mouth ready to let all her thoughts spill but she was cut off.

      “Are you ok? Did you get hurt?” He placed his hand on her arms crouching down just a bit to inspect her face. His hands were really warm.

      She felt a faint pink dust her cheeks. “I am fine. You don’t have to worry about me. I was the one who made you fall.” She looked into his mesmerizing eyes and gulped as discreetly as she could.

      “I am okay but we can’t allow such a fragile lady like you to get hurt.” A smirk tugged at his lips and made her rosy cheeks to go into a deep red.

      “Hey! I’m not fragile. I still put you down, didn’t I?” The most pleasant laugh she ever heard left his lips and he patted her head lightly.

      “Yeah, sure you did, sweetheart. Be more careful next time!” His hands left her body and he turned on his heels joining his friends again and continuing his way to wherever he had to be.

      After that incident, they started greeting each other on the hallway and making small talk every time they would sit at neighboring tables in the cafeteria becoming good friends eventually. The time she has spent with him was never boring and she ended up having some of her best experiences because of him. However, somewhere in that period of time, she fell for him. And how could she not? He was caring and gentle and funny and always made sure that she was comfortable before dragging her into another one of his crazy adventures.

      She was also aware of his feelings for her. She didn’t know if it was love but she knew he cared for her more than a friend cares for another friend. But none of them ever confessed. Maybe they were waiting for the right moment and maybe they made a mistake by doing that because from now on there were no more right moments.

      “I will be getting married.” Her whisper got lost in the breeze but he still managed to hear her. His head shoot in her direction, watching her side profile with blown pupils. With quick moves, he pushed the food out of the way and stood in front of her. Even though he was on his knees his body was standing tall, her calves trapped between his legs.

      “What do you mean? Please tell me you are talking about that giant stuffed bear in your room.” Minho tried to bring some humour into the situation hoping that any second she will push him, make him fall on the fresh grass and start laughing. His voice was strained when he spoke, however, because these were the first words she said to him since they met twenty minutes ago.

      Y/N bit her lip while avoiding his eyes. That was the hardest thing she ever had to do. Finally looking at his face she felt something tugging at her heart when she remarked his pained expression. “No Minho, I’m not talking about Honey. He’s way too good for me. If he ever decides to marry me I’ll be the luckiest woman alive.” Minho didn't appreciate her joke. If it was true then it was no joking matter.

      “Y/N, please!” She bit the inside of her cheek at his slightly annoyed tone. She knows she shouldn’t joke about this but it’s easier than telling him the truth. She wished there was a better, less painful way than that.

      “I’m getting married, Minho. In a month.” Y/N felt tears stinging at her eyes but she refused to let them fall.

      “With who? Did you have a boyfriend all this time?” The thought of her with someone else left a bittersweet taste in his mouth.

      “I don’t know who.” She said under her breath focusing on the abandoned food on the blanket.

      “What do you mean you don’t know who?” She moved her face even further away from him wanting to avoid the conversation as well as she could. His unusually cold hand cupped her face making her watch him in the eyes and bringing her closer to him but still keeping a decent distance between their faces. “What do you mean you don’t know who, Y/N?”

      She felt so intimidated by his demeanour. She knew she owed him an explanation. Actually, no. She didn’t. They were just friends and she can do whatever she wants. But she needed to give it to him for her own sanity. “It’s an arranged marriage. My parents made this deal a long time ago with a rival in business. If I am not in any relationship when he prepares to step down from his position and hand the legacy to his son, I have to marry him. I don’t know why there is such rivalry between flower shops but if that helps my parents from losing the family business I have to do it.” 

      “Y/N, this is crazy. We have to do something. You can’t just marry a complete stranger.” His hands descended from her face to her shoulders, shaking her slowly hoping that maybe they both can wake up from this nightmare if he does.

      Tears pricked in her eyes as she took a deep breath. “If I was in a relationship I wouldn’t have to do it, but I am not. Everything is already decided on and I can’t do anything more about it.”

      Minho collapsed on her legs but didn’t fully let his weight on them. He brought her face close to his only a few centimetres apart. “Yes, we can. Listen Y/N, I…” She placed her hands over his, making him stop in the middle of his sentence.

      “Please, don’t do this to me. Not now. Please!” Tears started pouring down her cheeks as her vision of him became unclear.

      “But…”

      “Please!” She let her head fall into his chest and started crying uncontrollably. He felt his heart break at the sight of her crying and he never thought that his love could hurt her like that. He knew what he was about to do wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair for her. He understood that she can’t do anything anymore but he was selfish. He was too selfish when it came to her.

      “I love you!” 

      Her whimpers became even louder and she wrapped her hands around his torso burying her head more into his chest. He embraced her as well, a hand rubbing up and down her back in a calming way. He was silently crying trying not to disturb her, hoping that maybe, just maybe he is actually dreaming.

      From afar they may have looked like two insane people. Crying on a picnic on such a nice day. But it wasn’t a nice day for them. On that day their hearts have been broken by one another even though they still loved each other.

      Y/N was fidgeting on the wooden chair looking around frantically. Her father placed his rough hand on her delicate one in an attempt to calm her down. She looked him in the eyes and he gave her a smile trying to hide his sorrow from her. She smiled back and finally stopped her moving, realising that nothing is going to change even if she wastes her energy like that.

      Tomorrow was her wedding day and a few days prior they received a phone call from the father of the groom saying that they should meet before the wedding. Originally they weren’t supposed to meet because her soon to be in-laws were busy with the whole stepping down thing. She didn’t know why but she felt relieved that she gets to meet her husband before the ceremony. Even though her father assured her that he is a “young handsome man just right for my baby girl” she needed to see it with her eyes. No one wanted any weird reactions from her in the middle of the ceremony.

      She will finally get married. Is something she has wanted to do since she was young. Being with the one you love forever and absolutely nothing being able to separate you. She always dreamed of completing this one desire of hers. Dressing up in the most beautiful dress she has ever seen and having her hair done beautifully. It was going to be a beach wedding sometime in spring. Everything was going to be perfect and in the end, her loved ones were going to witness the love of her life and her vowing eternal love for one another.

      But she wasn’t getting her beach wedding and she wasn’t marrying the love of her life. She realised some time ago that life can be cruel. You get everything you want and then, all of a sudden it stops. You are left broken and have to live an unfulfilling life just because you can’t die yet.

      She was woken from her slumber by the screeching of her father’s chair. When she looked forward she was met with two masculine forms looking down at her. She hurriedly got up and bowed deeply as an apology for not noticing them sooner.

      “There’s no need for something like that. I can imagine how nervous you must be.” His voice was deep, shaking her from inside out. It was the older male that spoke. His shoulders were really broad and he was fairly tall, his imposing presence giving her a claustrophobic feeling. He had a fake smile plastered on his face and he extended his hands which she shook hurriedly. “I’m Mr Seo but you can start calling me father.” He laughed and she forced a laugh as well, uneasiness settling inside her.

      She looked at the other man from the corner of her eye. He was very well built, his black T-shirt stretching over the muscle of his arms. “I’m Y/N.” She extended her arm and let a smile paint her lips in an attempt to be nice.

      The man rolled his eyes and slapped his hand over her’s, shaking it violently before letting go. “I’m Changbin.” Immediately after, he sat down disinterested in that whole meeting.

      A bored expression was adorning his face. All he could think about was the moment he could go home. His eyes travelled down her body trying to take her figure in. He had seen so much better. She wasn’t crazy beautiful and even though her body was presenting some appetizing curves her shy and reserved demeanour was a big turn off for him. He couldn’t understand why he had to marry her. Did they really have to form a pact with the District 9 Mafia? They were clearly stronger than them so why not just eliminate them.

      He took another look at her. The way she sat, that forced smile, the fear in her eyes. Everything about her annoyed him. Maybe he was influenced by the fact that he had to marry her against his will but she was sparking something inside him. Filling him with rage until he had to stop to breathe in order to calm down.

      “Do you go to college Y/N?” Mr Seo’s question surprised her.

      “I did. I majored in Chemistry. I wanted to become a perfumer.” Excitement overtook her at the mention of her dream job.

      Surprise settled on Mr Seo’s face. “Oh, is that so? How come?” 

      “Well, since we have a flower shop as a family business I grew up around nicely smelling flowers. I thought that maybe we could sell perfume as well. That way people would buy more things when they come by and maybe we would be able to beat you.” She giggled lightly and she had both men in front of her raising their brows.

      “Oh yeah. Your father’s and my rivalry when it comes to our flower shops.” Mr Seo smirked at the other man and he averted his head, too embarrassed to make eye contact.

      On the other end of the table, Changbin was both dumbfounded and angry. Not only was she not aware of her father’s real job but she was also naive enough to believe the flower shop story. He doubts that he and his father looked like they could work in a flower shop. He hated this marriage already.

      The rest of the afternoon went smoothly with her, her father and Mr Seo making conversation. Changbin didn’t say anything unless spoken to and for the entire afternoon, he looked like he would rather be thrown out of a moving train than be there. Y/N tried striking a conversation with him a few times but he would either answer drily or would straight up ignore her so she gave up. 

      When they finally parted ways a few hours later she felt like she could breathe again. She was going to have a long and lonely life if this is how their marriage was going to proceed.

      Y/N looked at the lights coming from the city. Everything looked so small from up there. So small that she could pick them up and do whatever she wanted with them. Wrapping her jacket better around her body she leaned against the hood of the car making herself comfortable.

      “How is he?” Minho was looking at her expectantly.

      “He is okay, I guess.” She let out a sigh turning her head to look at his eyes.

      The older man made a clicking sound with his tongue before tilting his head to one side. “Okay? You guess? What am I supposed to understand from this?” He sounded annoyed.

      “He didn’t really talk. He ignored me for almost the entire period we were there. He did say ‘Good for you.’ when I said that I am a good cook, though. In conclusion, okay, I guess.” She was sick of him honestly. The few hours she spent with him today were enough for a lifetime. He wasn’t okay, he was a complete unmannered pig. But she couldn’t say that to Minho. She couldn't tell him about all the dirty looks he gave her or how many times he rolled his eyes whenever she excitedly spoke about her interests. She knew how he would react and that would only make her fall for him even harder. She needed to get over him.

      Minho felt his blood boil at her words. He gave her up, he respected her wish of not going to her father and fighting for her, only for her to end up with someone like him. Wasn’t life a bitch? He could make her so much happier. They could have a carefree life where the only thing they’ll be thinking about was how much they loved each other. But they won’t. Y/N is Changbin’s and as much as he hates it, if she is fine with it he will respect her decision.

      He wrapped a hand around her shoulders and dragged her closer to him. “Maybe you just got the wrong impression. I’m sure it will be ok.” He said that to her but it was more for him. A reassurance and a reason not to start a fight. He wanted to tell her to go against her father. Tell her to think again. Tell her that he was ready and if she spelt the words he would jump in the car and run away with her. Go to a place where no one could find them and they could live a happy life. But he almost lost her once and he can’t risk that again.

      After their picnic “date” Y/N avoided him for a few days and he thought that he ruined their friendship. But then, thanks to someone that probably loves him, she called him. Told him how scared she was of the whole situation and how she’s trying to stay strong for her family. That night she confessed to him many things that got him worried and he agreed to stay by her side because she needed him. He even agreed to walk her down the aisle. Walk with her on arguably the most important day of her life and then hand her over to someone else.

      “Maybe you are right. I hope you are right.” She closed her eyes and inhaled his scent. The last few moments she can spend with him like that before it becomes wrong. And she is going to enjoy them.

      They sat like that for a good period of time in comfortable silence. None of them wanted to go home afraid of tomorrow. But they did because this was not a teenage rom-com where the protagonists end up together. This was the real world and they had to confront it.

[jaskierswolf]

Yes Chef

My fic for the Novigrad Exchange! For the marvelous @ohnomybreadsticks

Ship: Calanthe/Eist Rating: E Summary: Restaurant AU with a healthy dose of smut? I don’t know. I’ll think of a better summary later 😂 AO3 link to come later on!

CW: 18+ smutty time, vaginal sex, oral sex, semi-public (they are alone but in a public setting),

The kitchen was sweltering, the chefs moving around the small space in an intricate dance that only they knew the steps to. The air was filled with a cacophony of smells; slowly roasted barbeque pulled-pork, fried onions and garlic, chocolate brownies. It all wafted around the kitchen in a mess, mouth watering and delicious. For Calanthe, there was nothing better than the hustle and bustle of a professional kitchen. She had been cooking since she was a child, her own grandmother had often let her help around the kitchen and Calanthe had been hooked. There was just something so addictive about creating masterpieces out of nothing. How could flour, butter, sugar become something entirely different? A cake, soft and melting in her mouth, flavours exploding on her tongue, almost better than sex… almost. 

The industry itself attracted Calanthe like a moth to a flame. It was undoubtedly a man’s world, and that pulled her in, the need to prove herself, a competitiveness that drove her forward in life. If there was one thing in love she truly loved, it was proving that the patriarchy was absolutely shit. Whenever there was an opportunity to prove that she was better than a man, she took it, and as she grew older she learned how to use that to her advantage. It didn’t take long for her to rise above her rivals. Her ingenuity and skill in the kitchen was unmatched, and she had a remarkable talent for ruling the roost. When she spoke, people listened. 

Opening her own restaurant had been a dream come true. 

The Jewel of Cintra. 

The cuisine wasn’t fancy but it was clever. She didn’t leave her customers hungry and wanting for more, but it was posh enough that she could charge a decent amount. It was also almost entirely locally sourced. That was the hook. Her restaurant supported local businesses, and she had crafted the menu using old traditional Cintran recipes. She was determined to preserve the Cintran way of life, especially with Nilfgaard slowly taking over the catering industry with their new wave recipes that blended old Southern style flavours with that favoured by the North, creating a brand new fusion.

Calanthe hated it. Cintra had a wealth of history and it was being wiped out.

It did keep her on her toes though, she had to constantly think up new ways to stay ahead, networking at conventions and collaborating with other local restaurants and breweries. It was draining but she thrived on it, and her head waiter, Jaskier, was an absolute blessing. He could charm any customer and handled complaints without even blinking an eye. 

So naturally she was furious when he’d handed in his resignation. The idiot had been snatched right under her nose. He’d gone and fallen in love with the head chef of Kaer Morhen, a gastro pub in Kaedwan, the pair had met at one of the conventions that Jaskier had gone to in her stead. Two months later, her best waiter had announced he was moving to Kaedwan to be closer to Geralt.

And Calanthe was left to replace him. 

The applicants had all been shit. No one could compare to Jaskier, lacking his charisma and easy going attitude. Those who might have stood a chance bristled at the idea of bowing to Calanthe, men who thought they could come into her restaurant and overthrow her. 

The misogynistic pricks.

Yes, the applicants had all been shit… until Eist Tuirseach. He was infuriatingly good, handsome, suave and seemed to already be completely head over heels with her. So, she’d reluctantly hired him. 

And she couldn’t bring herself to regret it. 

“Good morning, Chef!” Eist waved cheerily as she sauntered into the kitchen. He was helping Lambert wipe down the counters before service started. Her sous chef was a talented but prickly young man, and she trusted no one else to get her kitchen in order when she had her rare days off. He’d been trained under Vesemir from Kaer Morhen, but had been eager to escape Kaedwan. His boyfriend, Aiden was her pastry chef and, when they weren’t flirting up a storm in the kitchen, they were some of her most efficient workers. 

Calanthe felt herself blush as Eist winked at her. She blamed the heat of the kitchen. “It’s almost five in the afternoon, Eist,” she shot back. 

“Ah, but that is morning for a chef.” 

Calanthe scoffed. He wasn’t entirely wrong, she was a night owl, most chefs were, if they slept at all, but she’d also seen five in the morning more times than she would have liked. Delivery days were killer, and when they had parties and events most of the team were in the kitchen early for prep. 

“How are the books for tonight, Eist?” She grumbled, getting straight to business. It was easier that way. 

“Fully booked as always, Chef. Nilfgaard wishes they could have our numbers. No one else can compare to your skill and talent, not to mention your beauty,” he said with a caddish grin.

The same smile he’d used to charm her in his interview.

________

“Eist Tuirseach?” Calanthe asked as a handsome young man entered her office. He was well built, roguish in looks, and reminded her of a lost puppy. He smiled brightly at her as he took her hand, his grip strong and firm and for the briefest of moments Calanthe wondered what those hands would feel like caressing her body, rough callouses against her breasts. 

“Aye, that’s me. The Lady Calanthe?” Eist said, smirking as he cocked his head, making his tousled brown hair fall in front of his eyes. 

Her heart skipped a beat in her chest, and she felt a familiar warmth at her core.

Fuck.

Of course he had to be cute. He was the last applicant and she was really really hoping it would be another idiot so she could politely decline Jaskier’s request to leave before his notice was up. She wanted to keep the young waiter for as long as she could. 

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” she lied. “I expect professionalism in my kitchen, and you will refer to me as Chef.” 

And this was the point where most of her applicants had turned tail and run. Eist, however, blushed instead, his tongue flicking out to lick his lips, and there was a definite hunger in his eyes. “Yes, Chef.”

Calanthe swallowed. “Good, now… I have some questions, and at the end if you have any questions for me, you’ll be given the opportunity. Unfortunately my sous chef got called away on a family matter, but if you’d like a second person here, we can rearrange the interview.”

Eist smiled even brighter, adoration and lust shining in his eyes. “No, I think we’ll be just fine, Chef.”

____________

The bastard hadn’t stopped charming her since, and it was taking all her self control not to let him ravish her in the kitchen. They danced around each other and flirted like there was no tomorrow but… well, she didn’t want to give in. She knew what it would look like; the head chef and the head waiter dating. No. She didn’t want to give anyone the opportunity to question her integrity, but after months of being around Eist, she felt weak. The way their fingers brushed whenever she passed a plate over, the easy banter that made her laugh even when she was in a terrible mood at the start of the day, the disappointment she’d felt when Eist had booked off a couple of weeks to visit his family in Skellige. 

The kitchen had felt empty without him. 

And she just wasn’t as good at dealing with complaints. Calanthe had a short temper, and when people complained, she couldn’t help but take it personally. She got defensive and fought back. 

She needed Eist. 

She hated Eist. 

… Or perhaps she loved him. 

“We have a party of eight booked in at half-seven. No known allergies, should be pretty straight forward, but I’ve briefed my team and let your’s know too” Eist hummed, picking up his clipboard. “Most of the other bookings are couples and smaller families.”

“Fuck,” Calanthe hissed. “I hate big groups.”

“I have no doubt that you will be flawless as always, Chef.”

“Getting the plates out in one go is a faff that I could live without,” Calanthe groaned. “Lambert!” She barked. 

Lambert looked up from his station, his hair slicked back and his sleeves rolled back to his arms, revealing an intricate tattoo sleeve that went down to his wrist on his right arm, wolves running through the woods. He strolled over to her, crossing his arms in front of his chest, hazel eyes alert and attentive. 

“Yes Chef?”

“You’re in charge of the party of eight, I want you working with Eist and his team. No fucking around with Aiden, understood?”

“Loud and clear, Chef,” Lambert nodded then smirked. “Can we fuck around after?”

Calanthe rolled her eyes, swatting him over the head with her palm. “Behave, wolf.”

“What?” he gaped, rubbing the back of his head. “You and Eist are worse than us, and you still claim you’re not together!” 

“We’re not together.”

“Not yet, at any rate,” Eist chuckled.

Calanthe shot daggers at her waiter. “Get out of my kitchen, Eist. Before I get you for harassment.”

Eist quirked an eyebrow. “Tell me to stop, Chef, and I will, but you have yet to tell me no. One word, Calanthe,” he paused, giving her a chance to admonish him for using her name whilst they were at work, but he said it so reverently that she was too stunned into silence. “One word and I’ll stop.”

No.

The word should have been easy. 

“Don’t,” she whispered, and his face fell, heartbroken, and she could already tell he wouldn’t argue. “Don’t stop.”

She felt her cheeks burn, and the eyes of their audience were piercing into her soul. So, she cleared her throat. “Right!” she snapped. “Back to work!”

The kitchen burst into life once again, giving her the privacy to wink at her waiter. “Later?” he mouthed at her, and she nodded. 

The dinner service went by in a blur. It was busy enough that she didn’t have to think about anything but the quality of the food her chefs were serving. She’d rolled up her sleeves and got stuck in, flitting about between stations and helping wherever she was needed, supervising and delegating the tasks, running a tight kitchen as she always did. However, that didn’t stop her from feeling a little giddy whenever Eist flew through the double doors, looking like some kind of Oxenfurt actor in his suit, the server’s apron strapped around his waist. 

Anticipation curled in her gut, the heat that crept along her skin was from more than just the ovens. There was a hunger in his eyes whenever he looked at her, and she wanted more. She wondered if his lips were as soft as they looked, whether his beard would scratch against her skin. 

It was all very distracting, but if anyone noticed, they didn’t say anything. 

By the time the kitchen was cleaned up, and she’d dismissed the last of her chefs, it was past midnight. Lambert waved her off with a lewd comment and jumped onto the back of Aiden’s motorcycle, the two of them speeding off along the road. 

“So,” Eist’s voice came from behind her as they stood in the doorway, watching the motorbike drive off into the distance, and Calanthe spun round in a start. “It’s just us.”

Calanthe smirked, her fingers wrapping around Eist’s tie and pulling him in for a kiss. The waiter groaned and went willingly, their lips melding together in a slow and languid kiss, noses bumping as they explored each other’s mouths. The heat crept along Calanthe’s skin, her heart fluttering in her chest. How had she denied this man for so long? She was already soaking, aching at her core with want, and soon, she grew impatient with the pace of the kiss. Nipping at Eist’s lip, she pushed their bodies together, forcing Eist back into the kitchen and towards the kitchen counter. Another day she would love to take this gorgeous man apart, fuck him over the worktops in her kitchen, but that would have to wait. 

She made a mental note to keep her strap in the back of her car. 

She had a very good feeling about Eist.

For now he seemed content to please her. He spun them around, helping her to wriggle out of her trousers and ruined underwear before hoisting her up onto the counter. She gasped into the kiss as his fingers teased her clit, slipping inside her wet cunt with little resistance. Calanthe’s head rolled back, her hands gripping the edge of the cold metal counter. The kitchen was quiet except for the sounds of their moans and his fingers pumping inside her. It was thrilling, everyone had gone home but there was always the off chance that someone would walk in on them. She moaned, rolling her hips to force his fingers deeper inside her. 

“Fuck me, you bastard,” she gasped.

Eist just winked. “Soon, Chef.” 

She expected him to finally unzip his trousers but Eist seemed to have other ideas. The waiter fell to his knees before her, pressing kisses along her inner thigh with a soft groan. Her hands threaded into his soft brown hair, guiding him towards her cunt. If he wasn’t going to fuck her then he’d better put that mouth to good use and she was tired of waiting. Eist’s stubble scratched wonderfully against her skin, a reminder of just how strong this man was, and yet he still knelt eagerly between her legs, as if there was nowhere else he’d rather be. 

“Fuck,” she moaned as Eist’s tongue flicked at her clit, fast and feather light and sinfully good. She thrust forward against his face and he groaned, one hand gripping at her thigh, the other joining his tongue between her wet folds. His fingers pressed inside her as he continued to lick and suck at her clit, moaning as he devoured his feast. 

Calanthe’s fingers stroked through Eist’s hair as he ate her out, hips rolling against his face. She felt like she was on fire, her skin so very sensitive and every lick of his tongue had her moaning, crying out in pleasure. 

“Stop,” she gasped before she could cum. 

Eist groaned but pulled back, staring up at her with dark eyes. His lips were wet and glistening, and he smirked as he wiped his mouth. “Chef?”

Calanthe raised an eyebrow, barely able to catch her breath. “If you don’t get your cock inside me now, there will be consequences.” The waiter closed his eyes and moaned, a visible shudder going through him at her words. With a quick tug on his tie, Eist was once again standing. “If you like eating me out so much-” she purred, “-maybe I’ll have to find something else to feed you with.”

“Calanthe,” Eist groaned. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

“Why don’t you show me?” Calanthe challenged.

That seemed to finally spur the waiter into action and he met her lips in a messy kiss, the taste of her own slick on his tongue. She moaned into the kiss, desperate and wanton as he fumbled with the zip of his trousers. There was a telltale rip of foil but when he pushed inside her, fuck, it felt so good. She easily stretched around the girth of his cock but he just filled her so completely.

“I’m not going to last, Chef,” he gasped, lips never leaving her’s. 

She closed her eyes. That wouldn’t be a problem, she was already so close from all his teasing before. “Get on with it!” she snapped, rocking her hips forward to the edge of the counter. 

Every thrust made her cry out, obscene sounds filling her kitchen as they both chased their release. Eist panted as he left messy kisses on her neck, nipping and biting at the tender skin. Her orgasm hit her like fireworks as she clenched around his cock, sparks flying in front of her vision. She gasped wordlessly as he fucked her through the waves of pleasure that just seemed to keep coming. Calanthe swore, the pleasure beginning to wane and her body oversensitive. Eist grunted as he followed her over the edge, his thrusts becoming erratic and desperate. She caught his lips in a sloppy kiss, their breaths mingling as he slowly came back to his senses, slipping out of her with a groan.

She pressed her forehead against his as they panted breathlessly in the otherwise quiet kitchen. One hand gripped onto his shoulders while a leg was still hooked around his waist. There was a disgusting splat on the floor as the condom fell off. Calanthe tried to keep a straight face, she really did but Eist snorted and let out a hearty laugh, his fingers lacing with her’s on the countertop. Mirth bubbled up inside her, a ridiculous giggle escaping her lips as they both looked at the mess on the floor. Soon they were both laughing, hysterically and without any restraint, their post-orgasmic bliss making the whole thing seem utterly hilarious. 

“You’re cleaning that up, Eist.” 

He groaned, capturing her lips in another kiss with a muffled “Yes, Chef.” 

Calanthe rolled her eyes and cupped Eist’s face in her hands. “You can call me Calanthe outside of work, you fool,” she said with a smirk. 

And her partner seemed to melt under her touch. Eist’s face lit up in a dopey smile that made her heart skip a beat. He took her hand in his and bought her fingers up to his lips, his eyes never leaving hers. “Yes… Calanthe.”

[writing-fool]

mlqc | sunday morning

I recently (well~like three months ago) got into this game called Mr Love: Queen’s Choice, and after doing some ‘research’ aka gaming, I felt confident enough to write something. So, here’s a little headcanon about a blissful Sunday morning with the boys~

Warning(s): ever so slightly NSFW (insinuations of a dirty-minded author), profanity/swearwords

Victor

Victor’s quite the workaholic, as we all know

like this man will be working 60-70 hours a week, often bringing work home with him 

you’ll be on the couch in pajamas and acting like a total bum while he’s literally next to you wearing glasses and breezing through 50 reports and documents

you steal his laptop and glasses when he starts criticising your report 

“Victor noooooooo~work mode OFF!” as you zoom past him with his prescription glasses (he got them fancy glasses with the blue light filter because he’s A WORKAHOLIC and he’s always staring at a computer)

needless to say, this man doesn’t usually have time to spare

sunday mornings are yours though

Victor doesn’t necessarily take the entire day off, but after a certain dummy’s whining, he has agreed to try and have a lie-in on sundays

he *usually* still wakes up before you, because he functions on like 5 hours of sleep (lemme tell y’all, it’s a curse and a blessing in one) 

Vic’s a total tsundere, but these moments definitely show off his #SoftCEO side

his little lovebug is sleeping peacefully, wearing one of his pyjama shirts (I bless you with the headcanon that Victor sleeps in silk pyjama pants sans shirt because he runs HOT)

actually, you’re drooling a little bit but even though Victor’s going to pretend he’s annoyed, he never is

oOOhh, also canon that this man is the big spoon in sleeping positions. he naturally gravitates towards you and holds you tight because he’s NEEDY

sometimes you’ll sleep facing each other. Victor holds you against his chest and just cradles your body in his like his life depends on it

100% will entangle his long ass legs with yours

strokes your hair and presses kisses on the crown of your head to wake you up in a gentle way (despite his demeanour, he’s actually remarkably gentle y’all see why i call him #SoftCEO?)

as you wake up, he’ll mock your bedhead with this incredibly fond look in his eyes baby boy these words don’t match your actions

you guys actually get up rather soon after, cos you are both busy people...

fun times in the bathroom not like tHAT well actually kinda~ but for legal reasons everything you do is PG, please spare author-nim who’s still ~barely~ underage

you take a shower and belt your favourite song that’s playing from the built-in speaker (did Victor get a built-in speaker because you thought it was cool? yep. did you ask? nope. did he do it anyways? yehep.) while he goes through his simple morning routine

you probably have more steps in your skincare routine, but he uses a serum, cleanser, moisturizer and some eye cream on the daily

has given you permission to do his skincare at night whenever you both have time

to reciprocate, he dries your hair after your shower you guys HAVE listened to the Right Beside You ASMR, right? ...it’s on YT for free because we’re poor, i know

also canon, blowing raspberries on Victor’s bare back while he’s brushing his teeth will make him choke on toothpaste. tested and approved by MC

“Dummy. What on earth are you doing?”

he hangs around and waits for you to get ready if he’s already done, you do the same. time is something Victor knows all too well, so the precious time he has, he wants to spend with you.

you guys DON’T shower together in the morning because really you’re not getting cleaner ahhh author-nim should really stop

afterwards, you get dressed in some relatively casual clothes (i’m talking a dress shirt without a tie or a polo shirt because no way that this man owns actual t-shirts) and have a simple breakfast

he cooks, obviously. 

always makes a balanced, Chinese breakfast (congee or wonton, noodles, tofu pudding, etc.) because he wants you two to start the day well, even on a slow sunday

also, he travels a lot, so he likes eating Chinese food whenever he’s home

ahh...waking up with Victor just sounds like a dream

Lucien

i’m a bit biased on this bitch because he was my first favourite in the game so this might get long. might not. just,,,we’ll see

Lucien is a bit like Victor, where he doesn’t sleep much and works a lot

On the other hand, his work is...ehem...shadier, so he usually works in his office when he’s at home

you’ll both have your own space to do whatever you need to do

days off for Lucien are rare. he usually powers through until he drops

for someone who constantly reminds you to take care of yourself, he’s mediocre at doing exactly that

after getting to know him better, which wasn’t an easy feat because damn this man has more layers than an onion he’ll also make you cry more bUUT we’re not ready to unpack that suitcase, you start noticing when he needs a day off. often even before he notices

you lock his office door and force him to take the FULL day off at least

he could technically open his office again, but he loves you and he’ll humour your attempts

Lucien wakes up before you. always. you’ve seen him asleep like 3 times in your entire relationship. 

Luci sleeps like 8 hours,,,a week.

he watches you sleep i feel like that makes too much sense for his character. we love a creepy boy. and wholeheartedly feels at rest with your sleeping figure by his side

in his sleep, Lucien lies on his back, holding you by the waist as you sleep on top of him. your leg is often slung around his middle, so you’re enveloping him. he likes the weight of you on top of him; it keeps him grounded and he likes feeling like he’s yours as much as you are his.

on another note, Lucifer—ah whoops—sleeps butt naked. i honestly can’t imagine him wearing clothes in bed. he’s not shy about his body and feels absolutely no need to cover up for his significant other. 

you, however, don’t usually sleep naked. well...nowadays you end up sleeping naked more often than not because alright author-nim’s horrible. can’t help it, he’s a fucking scorpio?

because you guys take a day off, Lucien’s content with waiting and watching until you wake up

he feels you stir on his chest and honestly your drowsy eyes make him swoon

“Already awake, my beautiful butterfly?”

his slightly husky morning voice *really* does things to a person tbh

you guys stay in bed for a good half hour after you wake up, just cuddling and talking, also sneaking in a kiss here and there

you have the same habit of tracing each other’s bodies with your fingertips

his fingers flutter over your waist, you trace his chest or hands with your index again, it’s a very grounding experience to Lucien

when you do get up and head to the bathroom, first thing you do is shower together

he likes washing your hair

bathroom bits might happen, but surprisingly, it’s not a thing that happens a lot so don’t come at me. we’re being wholesome

Lucien’s incredibly intimate and his love language is touch. Yes, he has a way with words but he’s also a really good manipulator

he’s used his words for evil too often and therefore can’t trust words anymore. so he uses physical intimacy as a way to show love.

Lucien has a skincare routine of dermatologically approved products. a double cleanse, serum, essence and moisturizer. he uses anti-age sometimes to prevent later wrinkles.

they’re also one of the reasons why he smells clean and fresh

will tickle you when you’re rinsing your mouth. you’ve sprayed water all over the bathroom mirror before. he loves the reaction. 

if you’re having a day off, you’ll probably just wear sweatpants and a t-shirt or a sweater. Lucien’s closet is relatively plain but clean. he has the best cable-knit sweaters/cardigans though.

your breakfast consists of western things like yogurt or oatmeal. Lucien likes having fruit at the start of the day

the rest of the day is spent relaxing and lounging, walking in the park, biking, reading, drawing, whatever you’d like

maaan...i wish i had more days off

Gavin

Gavin’s actually a decently laid-back person on weekends

like, sure he has to work a lot, but his job doesn’t necessarily force him to work from home, so you pretty much have his full attention at home but also he can’t bear to not give you his full attention so what are we expecting

the nasty thing about Gavin being a police officer is that sometimes, he gets called up and needs to work at unconventional hours

also, he gets injured. most of his injuries are minor, but that doesn’t stop you from worrying.

but anyways, he’s not a total busy bee when he’s at home, and relaxing isn’t exceptional

sunday mornings are...well...active. Birdcop goes on a run/hits the gym every morning, so he’s awake by 6am. what did y’all think i was going to write

afterwards, he takes a quick shower and joins you in bed again. 

Gavin sleeps in a pair of basketball shorts and a singlet. he’s somewhat shy about sleeping shirtless, and god forbid he sleep naked. but it’s all good and he respects your boundaries. besides, he’s comfortable in his sleep and that’s all that matters.

you spoon in your sleep. sometimes, he’s the big spoon because he likes being able to ‘protect’ you in his sleep. other times, he relishes in the comfort of being the little spoon and feeling you pressed up against his back. 

very important headcanon! you’ve learnt to sleep with the bedroom window open. on workdays, Gavin gets home late and jumps right into the bedroom. it’s become a typical habit for you two, although you used to be grumpy about not being able to sleep with the noises of traffic. 

you’re usually awoken by the sound of the shower and Gavin’s humming it’s canon that he hums now, bitches. also I bet his singing voice is amazing

so it’s less ‘sleeping in’ and more ‘lounging in bed like the lazy bastards you are’ i’m kiDDING

if he’s able to, Gavin might convince you to go on a run with him....but let’s be honest, you rarely agree

Gavin’s a total cuddlebug though, so be prepared to spend the next forty-five minutes in the tightest hug ever (to be fair, you’re not complaining)

he’s completely soft for you and you’ll have to wrestle out of his grip to get to the bathroom

you don’t shower in the morning, so everything’s pretty quick

Gavin doesn’t actually have a good skincare regiment tbh...he’ll slap on some cream and that’s it. probably washes his face in the shower with body wash...AND HIS SKIN STILL LOOKS AMAZING

you like making funny faces in the mirror while brushing your teeth and making Gavin laugh while he’s watching you in the doorway. he loves how you just make his day with the smallest things.

you guys both dress in really casual clothing, like hoodies and shorts/sweatpants/pj pants unless you’re going somewhere

Gavin has them grey sweatpants, if you know what I mean okay I’ll chill, sorry~

you wear his shirts a lot because they’re super big on you and Gavin secretly not-so-secretly thinks you’re adorable in them (a good thing about Gavin is that he’s easy to read; he blushes rather quickly)

“Ahh...it’s just—you look so tiny and cute.” guess he’s not the only one blushing now

i see Gavin as a ‘bun for breakfast’ kind of person. he picks them up at the stall a couple of miles away when he heads home. sometimes he does so running, other times...well he’s not called Birdcop for nothing

you guys have 2 buns each for breakfast because they’re delicious 

lounge time is often spent gaming or cleaning the house (you’re both busy people and Gavin tends to get messy because he just chucks clothes on the floor after a hard workday)

you make the most out of your sunday, hoping Gavin doesn’t get called in

who wouldn’t like being domestic with Gavin?

Kiro

Kiro, unsurprisingly, has an incredibly busy schedule

one that, similar to Gavin, isn’t really decided by himself

i suppose his situation is a tad bit worse than Birdcop’s, since his workdays don’t even actually end when he gets home. he constantly practices choreos, singing, etc. at home

so, full days off are few and very, very far between

this makes them extra precious

it helps to have a lazy morning once in a while though (in Kiro’s case, lazy sundays are most likely a bi-weekly thing)

you wake up first! Kiro needs his beauty sleep, and damn this boy can knock in 16 hours of sleep if need be

you’ll probably lay in bed for a while and then attempt to get up and ready for the day

until...you feel Kiro’s arm tugging you back

for a skinny, lithe boy, he’s remarkably strong. he pulls you back to bed with the groggiest, cutest sleep-laced voice EVER 

“Mmm, Miss Chips, it’s not time to wake up yet, is it?” 

he snuggles into you and refuses to wake up unless you give him kisses

during the night, Kiro sleeps in actual pyjamas with cute characters on them. when he feels lazy, he’ll probably just slip on a t-shirt and some boxer shorts, but he likes putting in the effort to wear matching couple pyjamas

Kiro cuddles with you 24/7, and sleep makes little difference here. he’s often the little spoon because he does like feeling your presence and your grip on him. he moves around when sleeping, so you might end up out of each other’s embrace, but Kiro subconsciously always touches you in some way or form, like holding hands or intertwining legs. he’s a man with many identities and needs your presence as a reassurance that he’s still the man that you love

he loves to pepper your face with kisses after getting home from rehearsals/concerts, claiming that it gives him energy

you do the same in the morning, anything to hear that sweet giggle of his

he’s deceptively cute though, and innocent morning kisses tend to spiral into...something more let’s just be honest, his stamina is something else entirely i’M SORRY 

morning exercise? check. Hotel? Trivago. non-sponsored~

you guys don’t shower in the morning. Kiro’s used to showering after practice, which is late at night, and you shower in the evenings to help you relax

however, on a rare occasion, you’ll draw a nice bath together and play around with bubbles and scented bath bombs so fun and relaxing

Kiro totally has a 14-step skincare regiment. you don’t get that beautiful baby-smooth skin without some effort.

he has the best ‘mid-range to high-end’ products on the market, and loves sweet and floral scents for his skincare and makeup. you guys try to line up each other’s routines to be able to do them together every morning.

Kiro also has a huge bedhead in the morning! it’s your job to get this sleepyhead styled for a fun day

even Kiro’s casual loungewear is top-notch hip and trendy. he has fun sweatpants with chains, belts, patches, you name it. he likes holding a little fashion show with you, no matter what you two are wearing

old jeans? strut it. thrifted shirt? vogue, honey.

Kiro’s on a strict diet, so usually he has a smoothie and some tofu pudding for breakfast. on occasion, you’ll indulge him in something decadent, like French toast or pancakes. on moments like these, you swear he loves you juuuuuust a little more but don’t tell Savin!

you guys are a relatively active couple, so unless you’re inside gaming or busy working, you’ll spend some time in thrift stores or karaoke bars, arcades, fun fairs,...

just thinking about Kiro brightens my day...

As always, I hope you enjoyed reading this! I’ll try to bring out more content for K-Pop idols, otome characters and anime characters during the holidays. Requests are still open, so don’t be afraid to send a little message in my ask-box!

Love,

R.

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 18

First time reader click here

TWs/Summary: We stan ✨women in science✨. Bruce uwu. Twitter social media AU nobody asked for. Stephen and Tony are dicks and I'm not talking about their anatomy. Setting up mood for Bruce smut, ngl. PTSD makes things spicy. I'm depressed so please be kind ✌🏻💀🙃

"I really do wonder how can you two fit those egos of yours in your pants," I kept my tone forcefully casual, cheerful even. "Why don't you just fuck already?"

I was met with stunned silence. Suddenly, the room seemed far too large and the people in much too quiet, staring at me with various expressions of horror obvious in their faces. As the strange friendship began developing between me and the team, my "outbursts" - how Steve liked to call them - lessened considerably. I had no need to provoke them into giving me attention, just striking up a casual chat was enough. The Avengers were great conversationalists, to my surprise.

Tony and Stephen, when paired, were the exception. I could count on one hand the amount of times they successfully came to a conclusion without fighting like cats and dogs. It was like each man had made it a personal mission to verbally top the other, more often than not resulting in a thirty-minute shitshow ending with one storming off in a dramatic flourish. It was mind-boggling how two supremely intelligent men could not find a way to communicate efficiently without infuriating the rest of the team.

Plus me. One way or another, I was almost always around. In the beginning, it was hilarious to see the free circus but it got old really quickly when they couldn't decide on dinner or a movie, leaving the rest of us starving and bored. Or the great Cloak debate - that one lasted days and the fussy thing was so upset, it point blank refused to part from Peter for a substantial amount of time. It's pretty fucking creepy that a semi-sentient, ancient piece of outerwear watches you when you sleep - just sayin'. I personally interjected with my own snark and sass whenever Tony and Stephen got too heated, successfully drawing the attention to myself. The fight broke up and I had amazing sex with Tony later, it was a win-win scenario.

Yet, Tony and Stephen didn't stop. To me, their way of "talking" (and I use that term loosely) looked a lot like unresolved sexual tension. Stephen frequently used his greater height to tower over Tony in a childish attempt to establish dominance; the engineer was no rookie and responded with extravagant peacocking such as "subtly" tapping the bracelet that hosted his nanotech suit or parading at dinner in a $30,000 custom made designer outfit. Because Tony could.

I was pleasantly surprised when Natasha started laughing at my remark. Full-blown, belly laugh. Those were rare, coming from the Widow, her usual mirth was quiet, sophisticated, just like her. Deadly (adorable). Bucky followed suit, snorting together with Clint and Loki.

Steve looked none too pleased with me. But then again, was he ever? "Doll, don't be rude."

"Brat," Bruce said at the same time, palming his face.

"People always call me a brat. And guess what, Steve?" I popped my hip, twirling a cotton candy pink coloured Dum-Dum between my fingers. "What can you do about it? Nothing," I shrugged, leaning my head against Bruce's shoulder affectionately.

Steve just shook his head in disappointment. "Can we get back on topic? Please?"

"Captain, I think that Stark..." Strange began talking with Tony dramatically groaning in the background and I instantly tuned out the useless babble. Steve should've been smarter and revoked speaking rights from Tony and Stephen. Or asked Loki to magically render them both mute for ten minutes.

"You're not wrong," Bruce quietly whispered next to my ear. "Ten bucks says Wanda meddles and those two finally work out their frustrations," The scientist hid a grin against my head. I felt the amused, giddy energy radiating off him like a plasma beam.

"I don't even have to bet," I rolled my eyes. "If she doesn't do it, I will."

Both Tony and Stephen were throwing me equally infuriated glances. One promised me a good, hard fucking and the other saw me a short, poisonous lecture on appropriate behaviour in the nearest future - you can guess which is which. If I had it my way, I'd skip the lecture and go straight to a hot, filthy threesome with two men twice my age. I wasn't blind, Strange was hot as hell and could be decent and even nice once in a blue moon.

He could, but he wouldn't be. I wanted that raw, unadulterated lust, tension so concentrated it walked the razor's edge between violent craving and repulsion. Ever since the incident with Clint, I had this ugly mess inside of me, like a live wire about to snap. My brain was constantly racing, darting between how utterly useless I am in a group of supers and embracing my normal-ness, amplifying it by hosting game nights and spending time trying to convince people to start a dungeons and dragons campaign. Or something.

My sleep was like Swiss cheese, riddled with holes where I stayed awake for one or two hours at a time in the middle of the night after waking up sweaty, with my heart hammering out of my chest. Sometimes I dreamt of Clint's lifeless, sickly white body, sometimes the whole room flooded with blood and I couldn't stop it no matter what, there was so much of it, I drowned in it, I startled up with the taste of it in my mouth. Rarely, the worst of it came - the one where Clint was alive as millions of millions of little fluorescent, poisonous jellyfish burst out of him and he screamed and screamed and screamed...

I had PTSD. Yay, me. As if my uselessness wasn't enough of a burden, my brain decided for me that it wasn't good enough that I saved Clint and now it was punishing me for being close to a group of people who routinely saved the WORLD.

I contemplated my usual habits - going to a party, getting trashed and dancing until my legs were numb. I just wanted to shut my brain off for a moment, give it a hard reset so-to-say, but with Tony on my back like a jet-pack, I didn't doubt he'd show up to the place and drag me out of there even if I was kicking and screaming. And he was a Stark, a billionaire, so visiting my dad in Cali wouldn't be possible on my own. Tony would gas up the jet and the rest of the team would find and excuse to tag along, too. As much as I loved being the baby menace who could get away with anything, I hated the way they all herded me, like I was an actual child. I couldn't get away from myself, not even for a moment.

I had the backup-backup plan and I was going to have to execute it. Desperate times, desperate measures. "I don't doubt y'all enjoy listening to Tony and Steph flirt," The nickname escaped unmoderated from my lips before I could catch myself. "But what are we doing for Halloween? I need to know if I gotta get a costume," Bruce chuckled next to me and wrapped an arm around me, happy for the distraction. Unlike me, the scientist was obligated to listen and participate in the avengers-themed discussion. Which was difficult because the engineer and the sorcerer constantly bickered, inadvertently taking over the talk.

"Halloween?" Steve groaned.

"We should do something," Bucky side-eyed his boyfriend. "For the children." Something told me he wasn't thinking of the children, at all. The man was positively leering, probably thinking about what kind of a tight suit he could convince Steve to squeeze into.

"A party!" Tony immediately exclaimed, interrupting Stephen mid-setence.

"Tony, no," Steve stated firmly.

"Tony, YES!" Clint perked up. "A snack bar. A bar-bar."

"I will not be helping you all if you get alcohol poisoning," Stephen crossed his arms.

"So it's a party," I stated firmly, throwing a contemplating look at Wanda and Pietro. The twins looked unsure but excited. I knew I could count on fellow young people to support my decision to have fun, dance a little, drink a little. Let loose. To nail my point, I turned to Bruce with a mischievous smirk. "Fifty bucks says Stephen is too stuck up to show up in costume."

"Beg pardon?!" The sorcerer exclaimed. His eyebrows threatened to meet his hairline.

"I think you give him too little credit, Princess," Bruce winked at me and we solemnly shook hands. It was great having a fellow partner in mischief. Loki's approving smirk just sealed the deal for me.

"It's not my fault you sometimes act like you have a stick up your butt," I gave in the way of explanation, shrugging my shoulders innocently in Stephen's direction. "I'm just pointing out the obvious."

"I don't dare to imagine what's been up yours," The sorcerer retorted dryly, in an uncharacteristically childish fashion, arms still crossed. It almost looked like he was pouting.

"Tony," I simply said, leering salaciously at the man.

"Ooh, kinky," Clint reached over and we promptly high-fived each other in the wake of multiple embarrassed groans emanating around the room. "Strange, you're a boring old man, get over it."

"And you regularly end up in dumpsters, Barton," Strange retorted quickly. "Not my idea of fun."

"You wouldn't know fun if it hit you in the face!" Tony grinned triumphantly, confident in his superiority over Strange. Look at that, the team was doing the work for me and I didn't even have to try.

"I'll show you fun," Stephen retorted darkly. It was obvious the man was planning something.

"Ok, boomer," I raised my eyebrows in muted satisfaction before turning around and grabbing Bruce to drag along with me. "I'm confiscating your best scientist to amuse myself. I am bored. We will go and do actual science whilst y'all argue. Bye."

My patience had run out. We were examining the parasites we found in the murder-anthropods-from-space, codename MAFS, courtesy of yours truly, and their amazing properties to penetrate cell membranes and feed on metals in organic life forms. Without Bruce's help I understood maybe half of it but he had the patience of a saint and dutifully and understandably explained to me the finer points of studying aliens. Signing half a dozen NDAs was never more worth it.

Steve's sigh consisted of 99% suffering and 2% disappointment. Natasha face-palmed silently in the corner, clutching a mug of coffee, a poster child for existential dread.

"Wait for me," Tony whined, going for the door and promptly being stopped by Steve pointing out the team needing his input on one mission or another. The engineer sighed. "Baby girl, don't let the green mean to start any experiments without me." Tony instructed, pointing an accusatory finger in our direction.

I clutched at Bruce dramatically, feigning hurt feelings and was rewarded with a swift motion of his arms. I shrieked delightfully at being thrown over the scientist's shoulder as he hastened his pace towards the elevator, hightailing it out of there. "I'd never snitch on science daddy," I wiggled my eyebrows in Tony's direction, sticking a hand down the back pocket of Bruce's pants, dangling over his shoulder like a happy sack of potatoes.

The lab smelled strongly of alcohol and bitter chemicals, the solution that Bruce developed to ensure the optimal state of the alien pathogens. The man's genius never ceased to amaze me: Bruce came up with the needed formula in the span of a few hours while running low on sleep, post a Hulk-out session.

We put on our protective gear - "science onesies" I called them - along with a respirator and goggles and set to the segregated part of the lab where the specimens were kept under a blue light. The glass wall between Bruce's and Tony's lab was dimmed; I reflected in it, looking positively futuristic in my double-stacked white platformed boots and white hazmat suit.

"Wait," I motioned to Bruce to come over.

"Oh, right, our music," He was already half-way to being in total Science Mode. "Friday, please put on the "Get Schwifty" playlist, 60% volume."

The playlist that me and Bruce came up with for our lab sessions. The man was such an adorable dork. Thirty percent my music, thirty percent of his indie rock shit and forty percent 00's bops. In other words, utter perfection.

I finally managed to fish out my phone from my pants. "No, let's take a selfie," I struck an impressive pose and pointed the camera as Avril Lavigne sung the first verse to Sk8r Boi.

Bruce laughed but abided by the request, giving me bunny ears in the photo, tapping the fingers of his other hand on my waist to the rhythm of the song.

"He was a skater boy, she said see ya later boy!" I sang along, switching my Instagram to stories and posting the short clip of us just vibing with the caption #sciencetime, Bruce laughing openly behind his respirator. I looked cute and silly in my outfit.

"Send the video to me, I'll post it on my Twitter," Bruce requested. I indulged him then put my phone away, ready to conquer the world of microbiology. Or die trying. Science was calling...

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie

[ldyinblckmsk]

Always the extra, never the lead

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x F! Reader

Genre: Angst

Words: 1.8k

A/N: Hey, guys! I'm back hoho serving another angst (if you squint your eyes lol). I hope I broke your heart or makes you feel pain or sad coz that's what i wanna make you feel while you read my piece oftrash. This plot is plaguing mah mind. Also, the title sucks lolololol I can't think of anything argh!

Enjoy :)

It's funny how people cheer themselves up by thinking that they are the main character of their own story. You think that it's  ridiculous to give themselves a fake hope while the fact that the cycle of their story doesn't change anything. They'll never be the protagonist, no matter how hard they try to be one.

That's why you gave up, right. You settle yourself to be just a bystander, watching the main roles act their piece under the big spotlight. Watching the man you love entranced by the stare of the girl he likes. See, it's not you. Because, after all, as much as you wanted to be the Cinderella or Snow White or any other damnsel in distress, he'll never be the prince that will save you. You're just an extra.

Confess your profounding love to him? You already thought of it and considering the consequences of it, you're just a coward who didn't want to jeopardize the only relationship you had with him. You're fine with being his bestfriend. At least, you still have an excuse to be at his house until midnight just hanging out with him. You can still wear his hoodies  and imagine yourself acting like how the other girls did to their significant other.

That until she came.

He spent less time hanging out with you. He rarely even talks to you and ask if you're still breathing. As if all of a sudden, every memories you spent with him vanished like a bubble when the narrator introduced his leading lady. Of course, you were jealous, infuriating to be honest, she stole your man, the ash blond you were crushing since you laid your eyes on him. And the thing that makes you go insane is the fact that you don't have the right to be angry because he's not yours to claim.

The only thing you can do is sit there and let yourself drown in pain. Pretend that you're fine with the set-up and act normal. You didn't want to mess up the play, don't you?

Fine, my ass. You're not a masochist.

They're still not together, that means she's not his either.  They're still at the phase of knowing each other, so you still have a chance to confess. There's no way that they already fall in love with each other that fast.

Here you are in his room, laying comfortably on the silky sheets of his bed, staring at the ceiling. You just invite yourself to his house.

"Hey, dumbass! Are you even listening to me?" His voice snapped you out of trance. "I'm sorry. I got a lil dizzy for a sec. What were you saying?"

"You alright?" The hint of concern on his voice didn't go unnoticed by you and you just cherish this moment that way you always do. Your breath hitched when you felt his cold hands touch your forehead, his other hand on his comparing your temperature. The small act of friendship makes your blood rush to your cheeks.

"Geez. I'm fine, Katsu." You rolled your eyes at him, swatting his hand away. As much as you want to prolong the skinship, you didn't want to make yourself become a flustered mess. "Now, what were you saying?" You propped your head with both hands under your chin, as you roll on his bed now laying flat on your stomach.

"I said are you coming with me this Friday night. We're just going to eat." You looked at him suspiciously. For a second, your heart triumphs.

"Wow, you already want to see me again."

"Tch. Just say yes or no, idiot." You chuckled at his scowling face. "Just admit that you missed me, grumpy-chan."

"You're a pain in the ass."

And just like that, you didn't have any decent to sleep as you were so excited for Friday to roll. Whatever plan he has, you can't help but to think that it's like he's asking you to go out with him. Ignoring the second line he said, you let yourself dive in fantasy.

It's Thursday and you're still conflicted on what to wear, you asked for help of your friends. Surprisingly, they agreed to help you right away without raising their brows and questioning you about the date with the 'mystery man'. 'Cause they already know who it was, just from how eager you look.

Your love for the blond isn't news to them. Being classmates and friends for almost three years, they already knew how your mind works though they didn't really know how frenzy and complicated the wires in it. They just know the surface of it.

"How about this?" Mina showed you the haltered red dress that ends just above your knee. You decided on it right away which makes your friend shakes their head at your eagerness. After that, you're just casually having fun, giving you advices and tips on your so-called date from their experience.

You saw him leaning on his car, permanent scowl on his face while constantly checking his phone. You eyed him from your position, awe struck at the ravishing aura he oozes. The white dress shirt he's wearing highlights the muscle he workrd so hard to built. He looks so clean and sinful at the same time.

"There you are, grumpy-chan!" You walked towards him slowly, smacking his back as your usual greeting, smile plastered on your face with the hint of blush spreading on your cheeks. You watched him stunned for a while, eyes roaming to your body. "About fucking time. Let's go."

You were surprised when he opened the door for you but you just shake it off. He's gentle, seems like his careful with his actions.

He glanced at you for a moment before he went inside the car. His heart went wild when he saw you. He thought you looked prettier when you dressed up. He always saw you wearing baggy shirts that's why when you showed up with that tight dress he malfunctioned for a bit. You looked bold and sexy like a predator hunting its prey, quite opposite from the girl he's pining. He shakes the thoughts of you away as he began to drive.

Akiya is full of sunshine and rainbows. She's sweet and looks vulnerable like an antique dishware that needs to be taken care of. And he has the great urge to protect the quirkless girl. Funny, how he was so bully to Deku being quirkless and  here he was falling for one.

He was so upset to himself when he found out his stupid affection to the girl. Their constant talking amd bubbly personality made it possible to like her. But everytime he's with her, his mind straying away to your well-being. He knew that you have feelings for him but he didn't dig further because you're not vocal about it. With how much his time was spent with you, he cared deeply for you. He loves you, of course, but it isn't like kind of love you felt for him.

After sorting out those endless thoughts, still, his adoration for Akira weighs more than your friendship.

That's why he's inviting you to dinner with him.

The anxiety is bubbling up inside you. The look on his face screams that there's something going on inside his head that you're not ready to unravel. Call it instinct but something feels odd. The ambience around you doesn't suit your guts. You're beyond happy that you're having a good time with him but there's this unsettling feeling that's eating your inside.

Is this what you think it is?

He's the one who initiates the conversation first, sensing the awkwardness in your table. Feeling blue, you just answered him with nods and short words. Clenching your jaw as you forced yourself to smile naturally. It's not really that difficult for you to do it since you are good at hiding.

The dinner was served and you just sat there, eating in silence. You don't dare move your eyes from your plate. You felt him checking on you for the nth time of the night then followed by a sigh.

You fucking knew it. Your grip on the knife was tight while slicing the tender beef. You're silently praying that you'll have the control of your emotions tonight. The night is still young but the 'date' is nearing to end. 

"Y/n, just don't fucking talk and listen to me." His hand combing his spiky hair in frustration. He didn't know how to break it to you without hurting you. "What's with the serious talk, grumpy-chan? It's not like you, ya know." You laughed.

"I said I'll do the talking, idiot." You rolled your eyes at his remark."You know Akiya, right?"

"Uh, yeah, she's the girl you like, right." You said with an obvious tone in your voice, smiling, almost seemed like you're teasing him. Almost. Because the bitterness you felt left a hint on your voice.

Silence. No one dared to speak. Not because of your last statement. It seems like gods are not in the mood to heed your prayer as you desperately trying to stop the tears that you didn't know were already falling. You inhaled deeply, calming yourself down, slowly accepting your defeat.

You were the one that breaks the eerie silence. "So, you two are already together. Is that what were you going to say to me? Or is there anything el–" 

Oh.

Realization strucks your chords. How can you be so fucking simpleton? A small laugh leaves your mouth while nodding your head crazily, new batch of tears forming in your eyes. He only watched you, confused.

"Oh my god! You fucking knew it. Am I right?"

"Y/n–"

"I'm a clown. You knew I love you yet–" You laughed again. People gaze at your direction, feeling pity at your state. You are mess right now.

"What the fuck are you talking about? Yes, I knew it. I knew your feelings but your my bestfriend for fuck's sake!" He raised his voice, bloodshot eyes lingering at your form.

As if like you flipped your switch, you looked at him with blank eyes, no emotions were found as you speak to him. "Is it entertaining? Is it funny to watch me make a fool of myself? Am I stroking your ego when I looked at you with fucking heart eyes huh, Bakugou? Tell me."

"That's why I'm fucking talking to you right now. I want you to stop it. I need you to stop loving me because I can't reciprocate it...I love Akiya."

"I know! Don't fucking rub it on my face. I know it. I already knew it! Okay? And yet here I am still fucking hoping that there's still a chance." You're desperately trying to sound fine, wishing for your voice not to crack. "I-I'm still fucking praying that I wish it's me. Why the hell it can't be me? Why, Katsuki?"

No, you're not going to break down in front of him. That will be last tears you'll shed. You shut your eyes tightly, regaining your control over your emotions. You didn't spare a glance at him, looking yourself at your mirror while retouching your make-up. You grabbed your phone, texting Mina to pick you up while you're talk to him. "Just so you know, I'm not going to cut ties with you. If that's what you're worried about. I'm still your friend, dropping the 'best'."

You looked up at him, eyes meeting his for the last time. You saw his pained expression, clenching his jaw when he looked away.  You get up, ready to leave. "Another thing, next time when you reject someone don't do it over a fancy dinner. That just gives them a false hope and that's fucking painful." You chuckled.

Bitter smile plastered on your face,  you prepare yourself for the conclusion of the story. Walking to his side, you bend to him while placing a kiss on his cheek, whispering your final dialogue as the side character.

"Goodbye, grumpy-chan."

[handlewcaare]

It was a rarity in on itself.

Often was it reserved for those who had either: a) lost their wealthy homes, b) lost members who were patrons of the Association’s funds or, c) both, so was the lines he read implied.

He being S-Class, Rank-8 Zombieman. A name he wouldn’t have personally chose, but with the hero almanac constantly updating, he supposed he couldn’t blame them for their hasty decision. What he could was their refutation to see past how fat their wallets would get.

On one hand, his agency attracted more than he anticipated. Civilians from the majority of most populated cities frequented his office when they could. Many of them were average people living average lives, none who could really afford being protected by the H.A. On the other, the cases were relatively the same:

“Could you please kill the monster that ruined my Kabu garden?”

“I-I’ve been feeling like someone’s been stalking me, think you can swing that heavy axe of yours and kill them?”

“I need you to handle my ex-boyfriend. Since the breakup, he turned into this... thing and now he keeps destroying the city.”

From humble private investigative work to monster hunting, if someone told him that was where his life had lead to twenty years ago, he would have scoffed and called them crazy.

While his clothes would often be shredded, stained with copper-scented rose petals or mucus, bile—just about whatever the body secreted really—he couldn’t complain that it was good money he made. It certainly extended his arsenal and sharpened his skills. Though, the concept of empathy was often what made his shadow heavy at his heels.

He wasn’t human, in truth he didn’t know what he was, but the monsters he slaughtered—both in his cases and whatever Sitch had in the roster—were once upon a time. Whether they had a bad breakup, they were forced to surrender their dreams, even if they were on the brink of suicide: they all were once.

It was a wonder that left him awake at night. Was the fault their own or was it his for being the guillotine of their inhumane accomplishments? Could there have been a prevention?

Such a question was answered for when he was tasked to partner with another hero to handle a Demon Level Threat in C-City.

“Just lemme fuckin’ handle it!”

Quite the type for first impressions.

“Metal Bat, it’s really not that simple,” Sitch attempted to hastily state past the adolescent’s obstinate declaration, “we don’t know what kind of monster we’re dealing with—“

“Ya just said it’s a demon threat, yeah?” He barked as he tossed his signature instrument atop of his broad shoulder: a declaration of war, “if it’s got a threat level, I’ll bash its head wide fuckin’ open!”

Hasty planning, eager footsteps out the door, and no dedication for patience; the immortal detective raised a brow as he hastily caught up with the vain delinquent, “what are you in a rush for?”

Whether or not it was the absence of Sitch, there was a distinct growl that weighed the teen’s baritone, “my little sister gotta piano recital an’ I feel like ‘m gonna be late for it.”

“Does Sitch know about this?”

That much evoked a dirty look, “of course, he fuckin’ knows. Why do ya think I mention her every time I’m pulled outta school to attend his bullshit meetin’s?”

The private investigator couldn’t help suppress his own distaste in the form of a stiff upper lip. It was one thing to employ a kid genius who essentially taught his own classes, it was another to employ one who wasn’t. To envision how his grades were would have made just about any parent worried.

“How long do you have?”

“Three hours.”

“Let’s make a bet,” if there was one thing that made quick work, it was heavy hands. Given how silent Metal Bat was, it only egged the detective to resume, “whoever delivers the fatal blow in an hour and thirty minutes wins.”

It certainly piqued the disgruntled brother’s interest, what with his lack of hasty intervention; no dismissive ‘yeah, yeah’ or his steps to punctuate his ignorance. “Wins what?”

“Dunno,” at least the detective was honest, “udon?”

“How about I get yer real name?”

That was a new one. Usually with the gamble came a promise of paid ice cream (usually with Dr. Hajime or Pig God), to share a bottle of sake with (Kamikaze) or have their drink paid for at the nearest pub (One-Shotter came into mind). The inquiry of his name managed to certainly stun the detective.

“I didn’t think you’d want to get to know me.”

“Well, considerin’ we’re gonna be workin’ together, it’s the least I can ask for,” Metal Bat quipped, “ ‘sides, I don’t think ya like bein’ called ‘Zombieman’ .”

“How’d you wager that?” For a moment, he assumed he was dealing with a quick study. It wasn’t uncommon for the hardy, brash types to have some light upstairs.

“Iunno anyone who wants to be called a corpse.”

“...Yeah, okay,” he certainly was on the nose about that one.

it was a reasonable price for a hefty, time-constraint mission. It certainly made his wallet breathe a sigh of relief and they might even make it to the piano recital on time. There was a bit of a lilt in the undead detective’s tone, “would you like to know my dog’s name too?”

The delinquent rolled his eyes, “now yer pushin’ it.”

————————————————————

On the transit to C-City, Metal Bat was as restless as the White Rabbit in Wonderland. In the span of twenty minutes, his knee shook and he frantically glanced at whatever face had numbers on it. More importantly, he held a mannerism that was awfully polite in his strange definition.

Anyone who recognized him would never be met with the snarling dog the detective would see during the meetings. Rather, the delinquent would scrawl his signature along baseballs and sheepishly raise a hand in a small wave when someone took a photo of him. Not once did he bark at any of them, though his brow did twitch with each stop that was not for them.

Once they finally stepped off, the detective practically had to keep in tandem to the storm Metal Bat brewed. “You seem to be popular,” calling him a celebrity would have been an insult.

“Nah,” it was a guttural remark, “just friendly.”

It wasn’t exactly the word Zombieman would have used, but it was close enough to bonafide. He wasn’t overtly friendly nor was he chatting up with his fans. It was brisk and it was momentary; as friendly as strangers could get.

Once they reached past the tournament was it completely barren. It wasn’t the same as the alley the private eye peered through with Dr. Hajime, as it felt vacant; the phantoms could only whisper as loud as the billowing wind.

What was beyond the horizon was an oxen-like creature, his maw gaped into a hellish cry as his eight tails swayed and lashed out tirelessly at the tree trunks in the park. The playground beside it was but a debris of twisted metal and splintered wood.

It was strange to say the least. As short as Zombieman’s presence in the H.A. Was, no monster was without bloodshed. Too often would he be welcomed with the pungent odor of sanguine, be it his own or (worst case) another. There was not a semblance of casualties, no grotesque visage that would prompt him to make Metal Bat look away from.

“I think we—!”

Moments before he could provide his analysis, Metal Bat already charged headfirst after the oxen.

“Ay, Nesquick!”

Nesquick was a good name, given how laconic the beast seemed ready to lash its heavy appendage at the delinquent. Though, it wasn’t without reciprocation when his muscles visibly strained to bat the tendril aside.

Seeking opportunity for the opening, both the detective and the delinquent lunged with both bat and axe in hand. While the oxen had little to no trouble catching both instruments, the howl it emitted wrought a singeing sense of combating emotions: dedication to his work and empathy.

Within that same beat of revelation, the oxen hastily tossed the two heroes aside. Lavender sanguine dribbled heavily from its palms. Had he not landed back first into a gazebo’s rooftop, he probably would have noted the dewdrops of tears budding along the monster’s wrathful gaze.

It wasn’t long for Metal Bat to shoot him a whistle from where he landed in the bush. As coordinated as they were, they both seemed to have a mutual understanding that this wasn’t just another monster for the slaughter. That lingering, dreadful sense of empathy weighed heavy at his shadow.

“Cover me.”

The instant that Metal Bat sprung to his feet was where he used the tendril as a launching pad. The oxen could barely muster a decent swing before a bullet ripped through its hand. What grueling ache of a cry had been interjected by the silver bite of a bat down onto it’s maw. The earth nearly caved into the beast’s weight.

It would have been a victory, had the beast not blindly swatted at Metal Bat. Claws easily ripped through the maroon shirt and part of the overcoat he kept draped over his shoulders. However, not once did the delinquent ceased his relentless blows into the beast’s countenance. Not even as sanguine petals stained his uniform.

The hero almanac declared this as a victory, but there was no valor in it. Not if the delinquent would practically kill himself. Once the detective leapt down from the gazebo’s rooftop, he made the mistake in trying to block another thrashing blow. Under the sheer brevity did his tibia and radius shatter to knock his entire forearm out of joint. However, it was enough to alarm the delinquent out of his barrage.

“The hell are ya doin’ ??”

“He’s down,” that was more than enough for Metal Bat’s reluctance to turn into compliance. Just as when the adolescent readied for an diatribe, the detective grunted when he felt a tendril puncture through the entirety of his torso. His ribs were splayed and the flora of intestines managed to inch their way out from the intrusive appendage.

Oh.

He barely could manage to reach for the machete he had tucked under the collar of his shirt before he sliced the tendril. The howl now caressed a painful chirp under the brevity of his swing.

What hampered him, he couldn’t say. However, as the beast writhed in agony, there was a spiteful strike against its horn by his coorespondent.

“Why the hell did ya stop me?!”

As Zombieman’s fatal wound deliberately regenerated by tissue to organ, he was swift enough to keep the tendrils from penetrating the adolescent. Be it that he was subjected to the stabbings himself or he managed to utilize his dual machetes simultaneously. “Thought you were going too far.”

“Too far?!” The delinquent’s incredulity was presented with a harsh swing that evoked the detective to duck under it. Once the tendril was swatted, he was hasty to fire his desert eagle, “it’s a fuckin’ monster! There ain’t nothing that’s ‘too far’ when handlin’ it!”

Not true, would say a poet. As he was going too far for himself.

With their simultaneous efforts, it wasn’t long until the oxen crumpled up into a little ball. What stubs of its appendages attempted to thrash wildly to pry the two of them off.

“Bat!”

The instant the delinquent turned, he fired his final bullet along the edifice of indestructible metal. The chirp of the richochete struck through the detective’s skull and punctured the beast’s last horn.

Just as his limp body collapsed, as did the oxen’s. It was only a matter of time before either of them would come to, though he was surprised to find that the oxen’s physique gradually dispersed into a thick penumbra. Most monsters would have been but a thick trophy for the hero to stand victoriously upon. The crowds of the city would have cried their names and they would have made it to Zenko’s piano recital on time.

Once the detective came to, the uttered curse from his partner evoked a sense of dread. As the monster’s physique was entirely replaced with a sobbing child who kept her bruised knees close to her chest. Her lithe physique quivered, as if recoiling from the suffering she had just regained. She couldn’t have been much older than six.

Empathy was a heavy shadow.

Just as the detective stood to his full height, he huffed, “Why don’t you go to your sister’s—?” It would have been easy to assume that the monster had been vanquished in that moment. A hearty slam of a bat to put the beast out of her misery.

Rather, the detective’s russet gaze only watched when Metal Bat hunkered down to his heels and draped his partially tarnished jacket over her quivering shoulders. His bat and his concept of time neglected to keep the sniveling little girl company. He even opted to scoop her up in his arms and implore where her father was.

At times, the concept of being a hero made the detective ponder. He wondered if the association truly did just hire desperate folks like him or if there truly were genuinely good people affiliated with such a corporation. Everyone, himself included, had their strange definition of good. Even if that meant being a few minutes late for a piano recital.

Once the two of them reunited the girl with her mother, the transit to Zenko’s Elementary school was a long and quiet one. The detective might have even lit up a cigarette, had there not been any signs to prohibit it. Instead, he suggested to help treat the kid’s wound, only for Metal Bat to remark that his ‘fighting spirit’ will keep him conscious.

It was a weird religious remark, but the detective complied.

A few minutes afterward, Metal Bat thumbed the sparse bills of yen in his wallet, though he could barely contain his grimace, “how much is this udon place ya wanna go to anyway?”

“Daichi.”

One could hear a pin drop when the delinquent’s fiery glare flickered in astonishment. His brows raised as he stared owlishly, “ ‘scuse me?”

“I don’t remember my real name,” the detective drawled, “but I remember being called Daichi by some people.”

The delinquent could only offer a little simper, it was a lopsided grin, but it was better than a curled lip of a snarl. “Badd.”

The detective couldn’t help but sigh, “yeah, I guess it is.”

“No, I mean, that’s my name.”

When there was a hint of intrigue, there was a punctual snap of Bad’s wallet when he slumped, “yeah- ya could say my parents hated my fuckin’ guts. Tossed my ass out when I was fourteen and told me to take Zenko with me.”

The detective’s hands drowned within his pockets as he listened to the rest.

“I mean, shit- she’s already doin’ so much better than I could ever do, y’know? I mean, yeah- her piano tutor is expensive, but it makes her happy. Plus, I wanna be there to make sure she grows up right and not a complete fuck-up.”

It was hard to imagine Badd as a bleeding heart, but there was no denying the thick droplets of sanguine that stained the tips of their shoes. Though, he might have gotten a bit sentimental from the scrapes and cuts he sustained prior. It was within that beat that the detective tilted his head back, “want my honest opinion?”

For a moment, Badd sounded like he was prepared for an insult. “Yeah.”

“I don’t think Zenko could ask for a better brother.”

There was a silence that befell them. Whether or not it was Badd actively suppressing the urge to laugh or cry, Daichi couldn’t tell. However, there was a little “thanks” that managed to squeeze out from his throat.

——————————————————

Once the two of them made it to the recital, Zenko had just begun her playing her piano. Her older brother practically destroyed the back of the seat to suppress the urge to openly weep. Had it not been for the quivering, the tucked lip and the profuse reluctance of weeping, Daichi would have been rather intimidated.

“You...uh..—“

“SHH!!” Bat hissed in a whisper, “Zenko’s playin’ !”

In truth, the girl was a formidable pianist. However, unlike her brother, she was not the whole reason as to why Daichi was there. It didn’t take long for him to figure out who her tutor was, considering how she practically meandered toward him and asked if he was their uncle shortly after the recital.

“...yeah,” a good lie wouldn’t have hurt, especially since Badd was too busy gushing about how fantastic Zenko was. Though, her concern of him being a mess seemed to interject. “Say, how much is the tutoring lessons?”

“About ten thousand yen,” she elucidated, “do you have a son or daughter who’d want to perform?”

No wonder Badd couldn’t afford it.

After the moment he spent with the piano tutor, Daichi turned on his heel, “I’ve gotta go do some sleuthing,” the detective proclaimed, “I’ll see you around, Badd.”

“Oh- yeah! See ya.” For the strangest of reasons, Zenko evoked this harmony Badd would never demonstrate in the presence of his co-workers. Even his little simper held a semblance of juvenile naivety at the contours.

After a brief pause, the detective nodded toward the little lady, “keep an eye out on your brother. He’s one of the good ones.”

“I promise!!” Zenko piped up, they were siblings alright.

Even now, Badd could never did figure out who paid for Zenko’s piano lessons. Even after he would manage to scrape up the money, her tutor would always refute the offer.

While a heavy burden, empathy was the most humane thing to carry.

[saeryuart]

Ikevamp Hugger Tiers

... Welcome to the first and last piece of writing I’ll likely ever post on here lmao. I couldn’t get this outta my head and this happened XD If your guy happens to be one of the lower tiers, sorry! 

The entire list is just how I think it would go, soooo yeah. Though funnily enough, the guys listed in the tiers themselves aren’t necessarily in order lmao. 

Includes Vlad and Charles! Because it’s gonna be a long af post, writing is under the cut!

TOP TIER HUGGERS

Napoleon:

-Honorary member #1 of the #GotThisSquad

-Man radiates big bro energy, and if you don’t know it right now, you WILL know it when he takes you in his arms. They’re warm, strong and protective.

The kinds of hugs he tends to give vary between being playful or protective. If he’s feeling playful, he’d probably hug you from behind and murmur teasing, loving remarks in your ear. He’s particularly fond of nuzzling his cheek in your hair.

-Man’s also got big hands, great for holding your waist, along with other things mhmmm~ ;)) they’re great for making you feel even more secure than you normally would, and that’s saying a lot

-With his hugs, he wants to tell you he’s not only protecting your body, but your heart and soul if you’re willing. They’re all encompassing, and are always gonna have you feeling safe, no matter what

-Sleepy hugs are arguably the best kind of hugs to receive from him though, bc all filters are off. Any reservations the man might normally have are gone as he pulls you into bed to hug the life outta you 

-Hope you don’t have any important plans for the day bc you’ll be stuck there with his face buried in the crook of your neck, nuzzling into you like a cat. 

-Please hug him, you won’t regret it. .... If you don’t have plans.

Overall rating: 9/10

Comte:

-Leader of the #GotThisSquad, man knows what he is doing

-He’s super observant of people by nature, so he’ll know immediately what it is you want. You someone that’s more energetic and wants tight hugs? That’s what you’re gonna get. You’re a shy, hesitant bean that isn’t quite used to contact? He’s gotchu girl~ He’ll hold you gently but loosely, so you have the chance to step away if you want to

-but if he had it his way, he would put the person in the gentlest but secure hold. Especially fond of having his hands stroke their hair and back.

-Speaking of which, his hands are like magic, able to melt your worries and tensions away. They just coax you into relaxing in his arms

-He personally prefers to be the one doing the holding, but if you want to spoil him, you don’t need to work that hard to convince him - running your fingers through his hair is a surefire way to make a contented sigh escape his lips.

-It’s a bone-deep kind of satisfaction that Comte wouldn’t trade for anything in the world, cherishing the person in his arms

-It doesn’t matter whether you’re happy or sad, he’s your go-to person if you’re in need of a hug

Overall rating: Sugar Daddy/10

Vincent:

-Final member of the #GotThisSquad.

-Like a warm summer day, his hugs are super soft and sweet. Somehow, despite being a painter and hardly stepping out of the mansion, he smells like freshly washed sheets.

-His hands are gentle and soft, but a little calloused from constantly washing and handling his art supplies and paintings.

-While holding you, expect sweet nothings to be whispered in your ear. Man loves you so much, he has to make sure you know everything that’s in his thoughts, EVERYTHING.

-His fingers tend to absently trace all the little things he loves about you; your hair, your cheeks, your lips, the way your eyes shine when they reflect his own loving gaze in yours... it all makes him want to hold you more and never let go.

-Particularly fond of holding your hand while hugging you, intertwining your fingers together as naturally as breathing. Also enjoys touching foreheads with your own, staring into your eyes.

-He hopes he makes you feel as beautiful as he sees you.

Overall rating: Sunshine Boi/10 **sobs** 

HIGH TIER HUGGERS

Leonardo:

-BLAST FURNACE.

-This man is a portable heater who can’t stand not being in your arms for 0.000001 seconds. Especially when he’s ready to take a nap.

-Great during Winters, but the Summer... welp. Run MC. Other than that though, he gives great bear hugs.

-He’s so huge, he literally dwarfs any and everything under that hugeass coat. TBH you’ll either hate it or love it, depending on how good your blood circulation is lmaooo

-Man likes giving back hugs when in a teasing mood, but when he’s feeling more romantic, he prefers you to be facing him. Odds are, he’ll be pulling you into his arms, hand tucking the back of your head into his chest.

-His bear hugs are reassuring, those broad arms and strong chest doing wonders in making you feel safe and secure. Depending on how tall you are, he’d pull you into his chest or the crook of his neck. ... And did I mention that chest? Damn Daddy.

-Odds are, he’s gonna smell like tobacco too. If you don’t like that sorta thing, that could be something of a turnoff. Man’s a giant too, so odds are you’re going to be an armrest half the time, rip.

Overall rating: 8/10

Arthur:

-Like his personality, his hugs are playful and endearing. He LOVES cuddles and by Jove, if Arthur Conan Doyle wants cuddles, he WILL get cuddles.

-Repeat after me. CLINGY. MAN.

-It’s practically canon that, like a puppy, he wants your attention on him ALL THE TIME. So eye contact is a must, lots of small kisses peppered across your face to make you laugh; your laughter never fails to make his heart skip a beat.

-Skinship is practically a requirement, it’s Arthur’s love language. Up there with gift giving.

-He loves holding your waist while breathing in your scent in the crook of your neck. He wants to be enveloped by you, your presence assures him more than anything. But that doesn’t mean the hugs are a one-sided thing, either.

-If in a particularly good mood, he’ll hum some random English tune while swaying you side to side. Sometimes, that swaying might evolve into a full-blown dance, with him twirling you around the mansion floor with laughter.

-With you, he always wants you to feel as good as you make him, for you bring out the best side of him.

Overall rating: 8.5/10

Vlad:

-0/10, momma didn’t raise you to fall for no shady man, wouldn’t recommend.

-KIDDING, I’M KIDDING. .... Mostly.

-Bc he’s such a shady man with little to no experience in physical contact, one would think a hug from him would be the worst idea one could have if they ignored his pretty face and bewitching eyes-

-Warning: Once he’s in love, his hugs are the singular most addicting thing besides his kisses. MAYDAY, MAYDAY, ABORT!! Man is dangerously attractive, and he knows it.

-Bc he’s always around flowers, he always smells great. Like nectar from the sweetest flower, his sweet, honeyed words would coax you over until, before you know it, you’re trapped within his arms.

-He’s not planning on letting go either, because only he deserves to see such beauty and tend to it. As far as he’s concerned, the other weeds he calls ‘men’ could be nipped in the bud ok that’s enough flower puns, I promise.

-His hugs are unbelievably gentle, but possessive. You’ll be handled so delicately, you’d wonder if he mistook you for glass - no, even glass was handled with less care than how he’s holding you right now.

-He has to have eye contact while holding you. No exceptions. He has to know, what are you thinking right now? If you feel like breaking away, surely he has other ways of convincing you...

Overall rating: Intervention/10

Charles:

-TACKLE HUUUUUUGSSSS

-Hope you have a strong back, because he won’t be able to resist glomping you over half the time.

-If he’s particularly excited, he’ll be playfully swinging you around after. You getting dizzy? Tooooo bad, maybe after a couple more minutes. As long as you don’t throw up, babe~

-Man may be a doctor but dammit, he has the right to cuddle his honey, too! Hmm, this sounds familiar. Must be a doctor thing.

=Nose boops and cheek rubs. All that disgustingly cheesy and playful shit that makes anyone watching gag from the diabetes. 

-If he’s feeling mischievous enough, he might bury his nose into the crook of your neck to blow hot air on your skin to make you squirm. It never fails to make him giggle.

-His main focus is making you laugh and have a good time, nothing else matter.s He likes the way laughter makes your eyes crinkle juuust right~

Overall rating: 7.5/10 bc his hugs will break someone’s back one day-

MID-TIER HUGGERS

Dazai:

-A surprisingly decent hugger.

-One wouldn’t think him capable of giving hugs with such genuity and emotion, unless you were the person he were doing it to. These special hugs are especially private, reserved for the irreplacable person in Dazai’s life.

-Despite his appearances, he is a compassionate person deep down, and wants to see you happy. Especially as the one who taught him to care for his own life.

-Like Arthur, he likes making you laugh. With his arms encircling your middle from behind, he likes giving surprise tickles to make you squeak and jump, promting his own quiet chuckles. Your reactions never fail to amuse him.

-His hugs are literally breathtaking, because you’ll be too busy squirming with breathless laughter to escape out of his arms. It makes his eyes light up in a way that’s startlingly different from the smile he shows the others; the closest thing to a true smile.

-For more somber moments, he holds you like he’s never going to hold you again. You can feel how much he cherishes you with how gently but securely he embraces you. He likes doing it from behind so you don’t have to see the pained expression on his face as he holds your hand for comfort.

-The only real downside is that again these hugs are especially private, so no one else gets to see. A shame too, or not, depending on how you look at it. uwu

Overall rating: Soft sad boi/10 whoops I kinda accidentally turned this into angst.

Isaac:

-Awkward Blushy Boi #1.

-Bc he’s so awkward and shy, his hugs are gonna be stiff af at first. He might not even respond at all, depending on how startled he is. Or how fast you let go of him

-If you do let go first, he’s gonna be lowkey highkey disappointed.

-Good thing is, because his hands are so used to delicate work, his touch is gentle and precise. So if you’re sensitive to physical sensations, he’ll pick up on that. If he does manage to brush against a sensitive area, expect a ton of stammered apologies and red cheeks.

-At first, his initial touches are shaky and unsure. But when he starts to gain confidence, his hands are curious and careful.

-Give him some time to let the hedgehog bristles come down a bit, and you’ve got yourself a teddy bear. Unfortunately, his hugs are going to remain awkward for some time bc-

-wHAT IF HE HOLDS YOU FOR TOO LONG, WOULD YOU GET ANNOYED??? DOES IT COME OFF AS TOO CLINGY, WHAT IF- ***incoherent anxious screaming into the void***

-Error: Isaac Newton has stopped working.exe

-Once he gets used to you though, his hugs become super comforting. Boy’s a string bean, so his arms aren’t the most buff. But the way he holds you is so awkwardly sweet, you can feel the sincerity behind his actions.

-Please give him a chance, he’s so worth it T_T

Overall rating: 7/10

Jeanne:

-Awkward Blushy Boi #2

-Similarly to Isaac, he’s super standoffish at first, especially with the whole ‘don’t touch me, you’ll get dirty blah blah blah’ spiel sHUT UP AND LET ME LOVE YOU.

-Don’t expect him to ever initiate hugs, not at first. It’s a long work in progress with this man. But pls stick with him, he is so, so worth it.

-Jeanne isn’t a person that gives away affection lightly, so whenever he hugs you, expect him to mean it. You will be weak-kneed at the sheer compassion and warmth behind his actions, even through his gloves.

-But if you do ever hug him, even though it’s hesitant, he’ll never fail to hug you back bc he’s a soft boi that doesn’t want to hurt your feelings.

-Despite having the tendency to push people away,his hugs are gentle and protective. They let you know you’re safe and not alone. Giver #2 of great comfort hugs.

-Once he’s comfortable, he’ll like the feeling of your bare skin against his palms, so he’ll start hugging you with his gloves off.

-Develops a habit of gently rubbing his thumb across the back of your hand; he likes how small they feel in his own. It makes him feel protective, renewing his vow of keeping you safe.

-Unfortunately, he gets points deducted for never initiating contact at first, as well as his hugs being rather stiff for a long time.

Overall Rating: 6.5/10 pls love-

Sebastian:

-Hugging? When you could be WORKING?? It’s more likely than you think.

-Man is normally reserved, and not one for physical contact. But his touch is surprisingly gentle and reassuring. Particularly if you’re feeling upset or stressed.

-He’s fond of back rubs and closeness as he’s holding you. Tucking your head under his chin, his hold is gentle but firm, reminding you of your good qualities and what he loves about you. 

-Because he’s not as remarkable as the other men in the mansion, he might need some extra reassurance that he’s good enough for you. He’ll appreciate it if you rub his back, especially after a rough day. 

-Under those gloves, his hands are rough and calloused from his work as a butler, but the way he embraces you couldn’t be more deliberate or careful.

-Sebastian considers you his little miracle, the fact that you came from the same timeline as him gives him a new level of comfort as a piece of home away from home.

-Despite his strictness during work, he makes sure you know how much you really mean to him. While he disapproves of PDA in front of the residents, he doesn’t mind sneaking a cuddle now and then... in privacy of course.

-But despite these qualities, the problem with Sebastian’s hugs is that they hardly get a chance to happen.

-Man is too busy working himself to death helping the mansion residents, and has an 18-hour work schedule everyday to spend time with you. Someone save him bls. You’ll be doing both of yourselves a favor.

Overall rating: Workaholic/10

LOW-TIER HUGGERS (I’m so sorry)

Theo:

-Ah yes, Hondje fetish man.

-Like his brusque personality, his grip may be a tad rough, but the way he holds you is protective and gentle. Likes holding the back of your head close to him, arm secure around your waist; he likes the feeling of you belonging to him

-Theo doesn’t really do comfort hugs. Unless your life was in danger or something, he’s much more likely to just pull you in when he feels like having cuddles hugs. Processing emotional depth greater than familial love is a bit of a learning curve for the man. He’s trying.

-His hold is possessive, but affectionate. He likes pulling you in close by the hip when in public; man claims he’s not big into PDA, but he’s proud of his girlfriend and WILL show that off, dammit. 

-Also claims he’s not clingy, but he’ll hold onto you for as long as physically possible until he has to let go. So you’d better not be thinking of going anywhere Hondje, not when you have your Master to please. Yeah, sure ok sounds fake but ok.

-He doesn’t initiate hugs often, but he likes holding you in quiet moments when you’re alone. Not that he’ll admit that out loud. Like Vincent, he likes touching foreheads with yours to stare into your eyes. They’re like the perfect works of art to him, a masterpiece he can stare at for hours. He likes how expressive they are, the way they light up in so many different ways whether you’re happy, angry or excited.

-Honestly, despite the loving shit I give him, he’s only barely in this tier for a couple reasons. But one of them is that he’s not really an affectionate kind of hugger. Theo’s the kind of guy that expresses his love through uh... other physical means. If you catch my drift~ >3

-All in all, his hugs are protective and strong, but also a little rough. Perfect if you want to be assured of your relationship and loved, but not really recommended if you’re looking for something comforting and soothing. 

-TLDR: His hugs are warm, but not versatile. Honest Tsunderes die if they are killed

Overall rating: 6/10

Mozart:

-Awkward Blushy Boy #3. The holy trinity is complete.

-Unfortunately, I’m gonna have to rank Mo as the worst hugger of the mansion guys for a couple reasons. One being his lack of human contact.

-Like Isaac, his hands are very careful. He cherishes you, and wants you to feel the devotion he has for you, so he often handles you as gently as he does his violets.

-But the stage to get there is unbearably long. Like, Jeanne kinda long. In fact, Mo is someone that, (even after he gets together with you), thinks that people only approach him when they have an angle, something to gain from him. But that doesn’t mean he holds back with you.

-His initial hugs are awkward at best, the but number of ways he hugs you is as innumerable as his compositions. A loving, encasing hug for a declaration of affection, a passionate intense embrace when recovering from a close call, entwining of fingers in a quiet moment... you’ll have it all. 

-He sometimes hums some songs in your ear while holding you, particularly if you’re upset. His hand will also be rubbing soothing and gentle circles in your back. Mozart is a passionate, empathic man deep down, and will accept nothing less than your complete comfort.

-Unfortunately, while his hands are beautiful and practically close to perfection in appearance, they’re awfully cold from poor circulation. Doesn’t help that he’s a literal vampire.

-The temperature difference is bound to make you jump a little, but he makes up for it with his gentleness. It’s also why he likes stroking your hair, entwining his fingers together around your waist so you don’t feel the cold as much.

-But the big reason points get deducted off is-

...... I see you reaching for the Purell, asshole. >:(

Overall Rating: Ice Hands/10

Shakespeare:

-D.... do i really need to explain this? ;;

-Don’t get me wrong, the man is very romantic. He never fails to whisper sweet words to sweep you off your feet. Hushed poetics and compliments flow out of his lips with ease, making you feel like a princess in his arms.

-However, like Mozart, his hands are cold from poor circulation. Not to mention... do you smell a hint of blood, coming from him? No, it’s just your imagination, he swears.

-Like the man himself, his embraces are very passionate. He loves holding you close by the waist, making sure your bodies are touching as much as possible. He’s rather fond of bringing a lock of your hair to his lips, kissing it with the flutter of a butterfly’s wings.

-He’s also rather... possessive. When he’s feeling particularly sly, he embraces you sensually from behind, resting his chin on top your shoulder. The way his arms slowly rise to curl around your waist feel like the sweetest trap you can’t bring yourself to escape.

-He’s also one that silently demands eye contact. As he keeps a hold of your waist, he likes to cradle your cheek tenderly, the mismatched wild yellow and blood red faze staring into your soul. The way he searches your eyes for your secrets steals your breath away, as the devotion he pours into the act belies any falsehoods he might’ve told.

-Again, this man is very devoted. Loves you to the point of obsession, really, But would I recommend hugging him personally? Aha ha ha haaa... gimme a while on that one. When the knife he has in his pocket isn’t poking my stomach. And NO, I don’t mean the one you want.

Overall rating: Romantic until someone dies/10 (I SEE those knives sticking out of your coat pocket Shakes, I want your arms, not the damn Iron Maiden).

Faust:

-Man wants you as a guinea pig. Why would you want to hug that. 

-...  Idk enough of him to actually add more than that. Sorry lmao.

Overall rating: Death wish???/10

--- Wow, I am never doing that again sdlkfjsd. I think my wrists have died along with my sinuses making this post lmao. Hopefully everyone was relatively in character! If you actually managed to sit through all of this, you deserve a big round of applause, seriously. I think I’ll stick to drawing tho, kek.

[malopascal]

Misery

Warning(s): crying, language, mention of alchol

A/N: This was inspired by this post

No words left Pedro’s parted lips as he softly panted, his eyes still staring down at the picture displaying on his phone. The gut-wrenching pain that he felt swell up in his chest was indescribable. He could barely feel his heart beating while tears slowly blurred his vision.

He knew very well that you were faking a smile, but the fact that you had decided to hurt him by going out with your ex and being photographed was more than enough to put the Chilean actor in a state of shock, pain, jealousy and anger.

He finally was able to blink and lock his phone, the image already burned in his brain. His phone was tossed onto the couch without a care while he slowly stood up from the couch and proceeded into pacing up and down his living room. His hands ran roughly through his delicate and silk hair before gripping the ends tightly, the stress and pain killing him.

He had so many questions.

Were you really considering getting back together with your ex while the two of you were on a break?

 Did you reach out to him first?

 Was Pedro nothing but a backup plan until your ex had his shit figured out?

The poor actor let out a frustrated groan as he stilled in the middle of the room, his breath shaky and the tears finally cascading down his handsome face. He couldn’t believe what was happening, the betrayal broke his heart.

When you had demanded a break from your relationship due to the constant fighting, he thought that you’d use the time to sit back and clear your mind. None of you could explain why the two of you couldn’t have a normal conversation without turning it into a screaming match. The reason why was because you were so focused on yelling and provoking each other that you didn’t bother to get to the bottom of your issues.

You didn’t give each other enough space and time to process every single disagreement through. Your work and inner pressure of having to be perfect had gotten the best of you, which resulted in the two of you becoming each other’s emotional punching bag. What had been a beautiful three-year relationship had now turned into bad one really quick. The love was still there though, it was just when the two of you were angry at each other, the whole world had to crash and burn to ashes.

If you hadn’t demanded a break, Pedro would’ve asked for it. You were the love of his life, but the two of you needed to fix your personal issues by yourselves. Not by constantly lashing out on each other. He wanted to marry you, expand your family of two with kids and spend the rest of his life with you.

But never would he have thought that two months into your break, you’d go back to your ex and humiliate him in front of the whole world. He didn’t know how you were doing as you refused to answer his texts and calls, which quickly resulted in him drinking his pain away. His friends and family had found him plenty of times passed out cold on the floor or in his bathtub with a bottle of Whisky or a dozen cans of beer in his grasp.

Their hearts were breaking for him.

The picture he just had seen was a few days old. Pedro was never a slave to his smartphone and caught onto the news way too late. If he hadn’t been bombarded with all the urgent texts from his siblings, he never would’ve opened the Instagram app and tumble upon the pictures of you and your ex.

How could someone be so cruel?

He thought that you loved him just as much as he loved you. Not ever did you shut him down when he talked about your future as a couple, hell, you even gave him the most beautiful smiles and answers whenever he jokingly called you Mrs. Pascal. The endless hours where the two of you gave your all into making your relationship work, all the hugs and kisses you shared…All the times you made sweet, passionate or rough love to each other… now felt like it was being flushed down the toilet.

Pedro felt his stomach churn in great stress and discomfort. He bent down and placed his hands on his knees for support as he really thought that he was about to throw up the few drinks and small dinner he had. Tonight, was actually the only night he was able to keep the alcoholic drinks to a minimum and consume some food without his stomach being in tight knots. He really thought that tonight was actually a decent night as he also had showered and changed into a fresh pair of sweats and his favorite t-shirt, his skin and hair moisturized and smelling great.

The other days, his sister and brother had to force him to down a few bites of the food they had brought or cooked for him while trying to keep him away from the alcohol, their remarks of his unpleasant body odor didn’t even make him blink as he didn’t care about how he looked or smelled.

He was finally getting back on his feet again but then this shitshow had to happen.

“I-I can’t take this anymore” Pedro hissed to himself, the anger and jealousy bubbling up in his stomach. All he could think about was you, he needed clear answers, needed to know your motives and whether the two of you were officially broken up or not.

So without a further thought, he regained his posture and snatched his car keys from the small coffee table before stomping his way out of his house.

 ~~~

 A loud sigh left your lips as you stared up at the ceiling of your bedroom. It was one a.m. but you still couldn’t sleep, the guilt of your recent actions leaving you with temporary insomnia. “Fuck” you groaned out loud and sat up in your bed, your eyes clenching shut for a few seconds as you felt absolutely disgusted with yourself.

Just an hour ago, you had blocked your ex on your phone and social media. Yes, the ex you had gone out with a few days ago. It was just for lunch but it was awkward as hell and you a got fresh reminder of why you had broken up with him in the first place. But you just had been sick and tired of hurting and being in suspense of whether Pedro still wanted to be with you or not that you had decided to let your pettiness and insecurities get the best of you.

You knew that it would only take a few days for him to see the pictures and hopefully feel as miserable as you were.

“Shit!” you hissed out and jumped out of bed, being hit with a wave or reality; Why in the hell did you even go out of your way to put up this stupid act when you refused to even let Pedro know how you were doing?

That man loved you to the core but instead of owning up to your past mistakes and contribution to the toxic circle your relationship ended up turning in to, you thought that being childish would solve everything and put you out of your misery.

Boy, were you wrong.

Tears filled your eyes as you felt so ashamed and disgusted by yourself. You had turned yourself into a monster and now the whole world had seen you make a fool out of yourself. You didn’t have to grab your phone and go on Instagram to know that people already were calling you a slut for jumping from Pedro right back into the arms of your ex.

You wished that you could go back in time and prevent yourself from sending your ex a text message that resulted in the two of you going out for lunch. The lunch itself was just bad and awkward, the narcissistic bastard happily voiced how he knew that “you’d run back to him” once realizing that “you needed him”.

Your stomach was in tight knots and you could barely swallow down the food while having to listen to him brag about all the other people he’s dated, even adding that you were “nothing compared to them”. Your stupid pride however prevented you from standing up, giving him the smack of a lifetime (something he really deserved) and leaving the place with the tiny bits and pieces of what were left of it.

Instead, you made yourself look like a bigger clown and pretended to enjoy the insults and useless information your ears were polluted with. You left the restaurant with the biggest, fakest grin on your face while holding onto your ex’s shoulders, trying to get to your car as quickly as possible. The second you hopped in it, you had noticed the paparazzis and knew that your idiotic plan had succeeded.

Ever since arriving home, the guilt started to eat you alive and resulted in you lying down in your bed since the late afternoon. Your stupid ex had the nerve to text you to let you know that he was horny and wanted some sexy pics of you. That text alone got him permanently blocked from your phone, social media accounts and life.

“I’m such an idiot” you cried to yourself, the room filling up with your sobs as you plopped back down at the edge of your bed. You knew that Pedro was somewhere hurting because of you, the mere thought of him in pain causing your heart to painfully clench in your chest.

You tried to calm down, even your breath while wiping the thick tears off your face. You needed to redeem yourself, let Pedro know that you loved him and hoped that he’d be able to forgive your petty and childish behavior.

“[Y/N!]”.

The loud call of your name startled you as your heart skipped several beats before pounding loudly against your ribcage. “Pedro” you whispered to yourself before slowly standing up and staring at the door.

The loud stomping of his footsteps approached your bedroom and you couldn’t help but freeze on the spot. You didn’t know what to do, you hadn’t prepared for this, but a part of you was excited that you’d get to see the man you loved so much again.

When the door to your bedroom finally opened and the love of your life was standing a few feet away from you, fresh tears cascaded down your cheeks again. He looked as handsome as always, but the stress and pain radiating off him was also instantly caught your eyes. His hair was a tousled mess and he was panting loudly while staring right back at you. His eyes penetrating yours so intensely, you started to feel shy under his gaze.

Seconds went by while the tension thickened in the room. A talk was overdue and you didn’t have the courage so initiate it.

“Why, [Y/N]?” Pedro finally asked, his voice calm but the anger still shadowing in the back. He swallowed hard while you slowly parted your lips.

“I-I-“

“Why?!” your boyfriend repeated louder, making you jump in surprise but also making you come to your senses.

“Because I wanted to make you feel as miserable as I am” you finally confessed, seeing him shake his head in pure disappointment. “So” he began and approached you, “You thought that hurting and humiliating me in front of the whole world would seal the deal?”.

Your stomach churned in shame and guilt as you avoided his now angered and pained glare. Your toes were suddenly very interesting to look at as you were being confronted.

“I-I didn’t know what to do…I was afraid and anxious that you didn’t want me anymore…That this break would make you realize that you didn’t wanted to stay with me…” soft sniffles left your nose.

You swallowed the last pieces of your pride and lifted your head, looking straight into Pedro’s eyes. “And instead of actually answering my texts and calls, you just jumped to that conclusion huh?”.

His words were cold like ice, his jaw was tensed as he waited for your response. “I-I’m sorry” you whispered weakly, exhausted and so over the thick cloud of pain and stress that was settled deep in your chest. Words couldn’t describe how sorry you were for having changed into this anger driven person that only sought out to seek revenge, focusing on the negative feelings instead of the positive ones.

“You hurt me” Pedro sighed, his expression changing from angered to pained and tired. You saw the dark rings he had under his eyes, silently concluding that he wasn’t sleeping well.

“

Scream how much I love you but also how much you’ve hurt me, [Y/N]”. Your heart painfully clenched in your chest as you threw your arms around his shoulders and buried your head in the crook of his neck, his delicate scent filling up your nostrils and making you realize how much you actually missed your boyfriend.

It took him a few seconds to hug you back as his brain was processing your touch. He had gone two months without it and had craved it so much to the point where he almost forgot how pleasant and soothing it was to feel you so close to him. When his arms finally wrapped themselves around your waist, you let out another sniffle before clearing your throat.

“I can’t explain how sorry I am Pedro, we were in a bad place and I am also to blame for it. Instead of telling you how I felt, I kept everything inside and just used every opportunity to lash out on you…

Your words and actions hurt me but I had to communicate correctly with you and try to get you to stop the madness and find a solution. Not turn into a petty child”. You could feel the pain slowly become lighter with every word that left your mouth.Why did you make the two of you suffer so much?

Pedro sighed and clenched his eyes shut, the tears rolling down his cheeks as he held you closer. “And I am so sorry for doing the same thing, getting angry instead of taking a breather and gently explaining the chaos going in my mind. Please forgive me, mi amor”.

“I forgive you. I forgave you a little while ago. I need you to forgive me too, my stupid actions and everything else…I don’t like him, never really did”. The room then was silent as you let your words process in your minds. Your boyfriend forgave you in a heartbeat, but knew that it would take some time for him to forget what you had done.

The sniffles slowly subsided, the tension lighter.

“I love you” Pedro whispered, his head nuzzling in the crook of your neck. His soft lips and beard tickling the sensitive skin there. “I love you” you instantly whispered back, your heart body and soul at peace again. He was the love of your life, no one could make you feel so secure and protected and at home. Both of you had some work to do as individuals but you knew that your love had only grown stronger for each other and would be able to survive other challenges life would throw at you.

~~~

Tag list: @pascalisthepunkest​ @thickemadame​ @talesfromtheguild​ @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​

Thanks for reading!

[skylarmoon71]

Harry Wells x Reader Imagine

Disclaimer: I don’t own the flash, all rights go to their owners. Enjoy!

"Ramon!" you jumped, a bit startled at the booming voice.

"Here we go again."

"For the last time I didn't take your tool!!" Cisco fires. Ever since Harry's arrival they both have been going at it. At first it was funny watching them bicker, but after a while it just started to get annoying. Harry's resting frown moves in your direction, which you return with a kind smile.

"I don't know where it is either but if I find it I'll let you know. " you assure. He doesn't say much, just walks off angrily and Cisco looks impressed.

"Way to go you actually managed to get rid of him (Y/N)." Cisco is grinning and you just laugh.

In all honesty you felt bad for him. He was trapped on a different earth, almost watched his daughter get killed and now he couldn't even return home until Zoom was defeated. You knew Cisco and the others were somewhat unsettled by Harry, and you couldn't blame. You were still adjusting to him being around. Especially after what happened with Dr. Wells.

The truth behind Eobard's plan hurt all of you. So it was going to take a while to really trust Harry. That just meant you needed to try harder make sure everyone got along.

~~

You walked into the cortex the next morning holding coffees for everyone. You passed them out earning grateful smiles and thanks. Cisco patted you on the shoulder giving you a side hug.

"You really are an angel (Y/N), truly." You giggled at his dramatics giving him a kiss on the cheek. You and Cisco had always been close friends. Harry scoffed by his spot on the chair where he was tinkering with his device. "Got something to say!" Cisco challenged. Harry didn't even acknowledge him and Cisco walked off grumbling under his breath. You moved to Harry, handing him a coffee. "I didn't ask for one." he said gruffly. You just brushed it off, placing the drink on his table. "You're welcome." you replied practically skipping away. You could tell he was still frowning at you as you exited. Blue eyes moved in Cisco's direction.

"What's her deal?" Cisco didn't reply at first, trying to ignore. When Harry threw a mental wrench at the table he jumped with a yell.

"Really!"

"Why is she always skipping around like a child?" Harry asked. Cisco sat back down annoyed, but answered. "That's just the way she is. Not everyone enjoys being miserable you know. We can't all have a resting Harry face." That didn't really answer his question. Almost all of you had some type of resentment towards him because he shared the face of the previous Wells, who really wasn't a Wells at all but in fact Eobard Thawne. So why did you treat him so kindly even though he tried his best to ignore being friendly. 

"It doesn't make sense." he spoke out loud.

"What was that?" Cisco asked absentmindedly, not even looking up. "Nothing your small brain would understand." Harry barked walking off. He couldn't focus anyway, not with you constantly on his mind.

"Dick!"

~~~

You were doodling some patterns in the cortex, waiting for something to happen. It was apparently a slow day. You were surprised no new metahumans decided to rain havoc.

On cue alarms started to go off. "Guess I spoke to soon." you tapped on the screen. A map of the city appearing. You flinched when the signal pinged on Star Labs.

"Hello dear, I'm looking for my buddy Mr. Flash." You gasped spinning around to meet the blue eyes of a familiar villain. "Snart." you growled. He smiled. 

"Nice to see you again too (Y/N)."

"How did you get in, what do you want?" You'd only met Snart once before; when he had taken Cisco hostage. Safe to say you weren't exactly his biggest fan.You raised your fists.

"Put away your claws, I just want to have a chat with speedy. Where is he?"

"Like I'd tell you." you fired. You didn't fail to notice the ice gun strapped to his waist. He walked closer, looking you up and down. "Let's not resort to drastic measures, I 'd hate to have to put a dent in that pretty little body of yours." you were still frowning. Before you could make a move Barry came zooming in between the both of you. He pulled off his mask putting his hand out to separate you. "What are you doing? He's gonna find out you're identity!" you yelled. Barry chuckled nervously. "He sorta already knows." your eyebrows knitted in confusion.

"Am I missing something?"

"While you were away speedy and I made a truce. " Snart piped. When he looked at Barry his eyes were somewhat serious. Soon everyone started filing in.

"Hey the alarm went off is everything- Snart!" Cisco’s voiced shouted. He came to a complete stop, along with Harry and Caitlin.

Harry's eyes scanned you. "Are you okay?" you blinked. Was he actually being..nice. You didn't question it, just smiled. "I'm okay, he just gave me a scare. Don't worry Harry I can handle myself."

Snart sent a flirty look in your direction. "I bet you can." you flushed lightly, moving a little closer to Cisco.

~~

When the little misunderstanding was cleared up Snart left, not before sending a wink your way.

"It's so weird that we aren't arresting him. " you watched as he walked out. Barry just ran a hand through his hair. "Trust me, with all that's going on, Snart is the least of our problems."

He wasn't wrong.

"Well back to work kids." Cisco called. You grinned. "I think I'll go get a bite. You want anything?" Cisco shook his head showing you a pack of licorice in his hands. "Right." you laughed.

You walked out of the Cortex, down the halls. "(Y/N)." you turned at Harry's voice. "Oh hey, what's up." you greeted. He was wearing that Harry Wells frown and you just smiled. His frown seemed to deepen at your reaction.

"Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Every time I say something you just smile. It's irritating. "

"Oh, uhhh sorry." you apologized. The apology just made him more angry.

"Stop doing that!" you stumbled back into the wall and he moved over trapping you between the wall. "Why don't you hate me." he badgered. Your eyes narrowed.

"Why do you want me to hate you, can't I just like you!" you yelled back. As soon as the words left your mouth you slapped your hands to your lips. Your cheeks darkened. Harry paused, unsure of what to say. So maybe the reason you were always nice wasn't solely because you were a nice person.

When Dr. Wells was your boss; you always admired him. He was so smart and confident. Even in a wheelchair he oozed authority. But with Harry, he was the complete opposite of Dr. Wells and it made you swoon. The way he walked, the smart retorts, even that frown. Damn, How could such an angry look be so attractive.

Even though he tried his hardest to distance himself you knew deep down he just needed people to care about him. So you wanted to be the one to start. That's why you never really paid mind to his rude remarks and sarcastic quips. You thought if you could get through to him you could get the rest of the team to see he was a decent human being. Albeit a very angry looking one.

Somehow along the way you'd developed a little crush. Maybe it was the way he tended to chew on his pencil when he was trying to solve an algorithm. Or the tight dark clothing he wore that displayed his tone muscles clearly. Possibly the way he looked with ruffled hair, and his glasses. Damn those glasses. They highlighted those beautiful blue gems behind them. You swallowed, he still had you braced against the wall and you were positive now he could see right through you.

This entire time you'd been attracted to him. He wasn't sure how he missed it. All those cute smiles, warm gestures. You acted so carefree with the rest of the team so he just assumed it was in your nature. But you cared about him, truly cared. He could see it on your face. His eyes flickered to your lips. You caught the action, pulling in a harsh breath through your nose.

"I'm sorry." he finally spoke.

"No! It's fine I understand. It can't be easy with all the changes you've been through. I know it must be easier to push others away than to let them in. Trust me I know. But maybe if you worked with the team rather than against them it would be easier. Everyone is still getting used to having you around. We're all on guard. Just, try not to be so.." you gestured to him.

"Harry." you concluded. That made him laugh, really laugh. You were shocked at how sexy it sounded. He was smiling and you were sure maybe your body stopped functioning.

"Calm down ovaries, calm down!!" you screamed internally. You just returned his smile, hoping he couldn't tell just how much his smile was messing you up. His blue eyes twinkled. He was just staring at you in a sort of awe. Your heart was beating into overdrive. You couldn't look away, and it took you a while to realize Harry was leaning closer.

"Harry.." He was just a few meters away. "Y-You don't have to do this just because I.." you didn't want a pity kiss. "I want to," he breathed. He closed the gap, lips pressing softly to your own. You sighed, hands reaching up to wrap around his neck. His arms circled your body, pulling you slightly off the ground. His tongue slipped in easily and you shuddered at the sensations that ran through your body. Your hands slid down his shoulders slowly and you gripped into his shirt. You spun him around, pressing him into the wall his time as your lips became more insistent, more demanding. He groaned, matching your intensity. You pulled back when the need for air became too much. When you parted both of you were panting. Harry's eyes were glowing with interest.

"And here I thought you were shy." his comment made you blush a little.

"Never judge a book by it's cover." That made him smirk.

"Indeed."

[shadow-sovereign]

1. So, here is another idea: The relationship between South Korea and Japan are bad, so one of the politicans comes up with an idea: a hunter exchange programm between Korea and Japan. Some hunters from Korea stay with the Drawn Sword Guild and some hunters form Japan stay with one of their guilds. Each hunter has a "mentor" in the guild they are staying. Jin-Woo is among the hunters who go to Japan and his mentor is Goto Ryuji who is not happy playing babysitter for an E-Rank hunter.

2. But he has to play nice because of politics. So Jin-Woo is living with Ryuji. Ryuji’s first impression of the Korean is: "weak but kind of cute" and "looks like a puppy". Of course Jin-Woo still goes into Gates (with other D and E rank hunters) and one day the dual-dungeon-incident happens. They suspect that he experienced a double awakening, but their magical power detector says otherwise. Ryuji is still suspicious because Jin-Woo feels different to his senses.

3. As if something about him has changed so he watches him. And every day he feels stronger than before, and suddenly he grows muscles over night. He is like a puzzle Ryuji can not resist solving. They get closer every day. But Jin-Woo’s time in Japan runs out and he has to return to Korea.

This would be a very interesting dynamic. Ryuji as a general rule does not respect Hunters that are weak. He would not have a very high opinion of Jin-Woo at first. Even his reasons for being a Hunter would just be baffling to him.

Putting his life on the line to keep his mother on life support? It would be one thing if it was for life-saving treatment, to actually make his mother better. He could understand making that kind of sacrifice for a parent if it would actually save the person. But to make an indefinite sacrifice for a parent that’s always going to be in a coma?

I see Ryuji as maybe being a dutiful son, but not being particularly close to them. Maybe they were the kind of parents who worked a lot and thought the way to make your kid happy was through material goods. He always had food, nice clothes, and plenty of gifts on his birthday and holidays. Did it really matter if they weren’t always home on time for dinner?

This has led to Ryuji to being distant in general and very self-sufficient. He doesn’t feel comfortable opening up to others or forming attachments to them. That distance from humanity led to feeling superiority to humanity. He convinced himself that he doesn’t need others, so he must be better than them.

Watching Jin-Woo constantly getting hurt for someone else’s sake doesn’t really change his mind, either. Maybe he’ll even try to talk Jin-Woo out of it, as an odd form of pity. He can at least respect how persist Jin-Woo is at working towards his goals, even if he thinks said goals are pointless.

The conversation doesn’t really go over well. E-rank Jin-Woo is kind of timid, but he’s absolutely livid at this self-absorbed rich asshole telling him to let his mother die….because it doesn’t benefit him?? Maybe he goes on a rant about all that his mother has done for him growing up and not wanting her to die is reason enough for his sacrifice.

It could possibly lead to them discussing different philosophies later, assuming I can figure out how to write that. At the very least, I want them to have a discussion about the inherent value of human lives and how people don’t have to be “useful”. It’ll at least make Ryuji introspective, but I don’t think he’s going to have a big change of heart right away. He’ll eventually learn how to care about people, but he’s always going to be a bit selfish.

Now, winding back to the start – how does Jin-Woo get selected for the exchange program? He’s the weakest Hunter there is. ‘Wouldn’t it look bad on Korea for me to get sent over?’, he asks. But the fact that he keeps working as a Hunter despite his weakness is exactly why they chose him.

Unlike Ryuji, other people are quite moved by his story. About how he risks his life every time he steps through a gate to pay his mother’s hospital bills. How he raised his sister after their mother fell into a coma, their father presumed killed in a gate. And how he’s raising money to put her through university.

In addition to what they normally pay him to go through Gates, they give him extra for every day he’s in Japan, plus they pay for his travel expenses. Plane ticket and a decent budget for food. With him staying with Ryuji, he at least doesn’t have to pay for housing in Japan, which is useful since he still has to pay the bills for his sister in Korea.

It’s difficult for him to be separated from her for so long. Perhaps the exchange program could be about a year long. In the beginning, Jin-Woo video calls her every day, but that gradually shifts into 2-3 times a week as they get used to the separation.

Ryuji’s not happy about having someone in his space, but he’s playing along with this situation for political reasons. He understands that public opinion is its own type of power, especially when it’ll determine who’s willing to do business with you.

When he gets Jin-Woo home, he lays out some basic ground rules. Like, no eating outside of the kitchen/dining area. He owns his own apartment on the top floor of some tall building. He doesn’t want his carpets getting stained or food spilled on his couches. But he doesn’t have expensive vases and statues laying around, waiting to give Jin-Woo a heart attack with one wrong move. (He does have some fancy artwork, but you’re a lot less likely to knock that off the wall than an expensive vase off a shelf.)

Basically, Ryuji is reasonable in the house rules he sets. He doesn’t try to intimidate Jin-Woo, but he’s not particularly friendly either. In the beginning, he’ll probably ignore Jin-Woo for the most part. But he keeps getting reports of how Jin-Woo was injured in this raid and that raid (healed before he gets back to Ryuji’s apartment. He’s going on raids with Ryuji’s guild and Ryuji always insists on a healer with every raid, low ranked or not. The healer fees are less expensive than the insurance payouts.)

Eventually, Ryuji gets curious about the way Jin-Woo thinks. How he can keep going on dangerous raids to pay for the hospital bills of a mother who’s never going to wake up. That’s when they start having more regular conversations, trying to understand the other’s point of view.

They’re not quite friends by the time Jin-Woo encounters the Double Dungeon, but they’re close enough that Ryuji visits him in the hospital. Maybe Ryuji realizes that he would be at least briefly upset if the kid died, which is more than he can say for most people.

He notices pretty quickly when Jin-Woo starts changing. Not only is he suddenly doing exercise every day, but he’s gaining muscles and height. The muscles could be hidden by clothes, but he’s not going to miss that the kid he’s been living with for months is suddenly taller.

They start spending more time together as Ryuji tries to figure out what’s going on. Jin-Woo deflects some of the questions, but doesn’t outright tell Ryuji it’s none of his business. Maybe Jin-Woo likes that he’s got more of Ryuji’s attention now. (Though if Ryuji had completely ignored him when he was weaker, he’d be ignoring Ryuji now. He won’t get closer to someone who’s only interested in him now that he’s stronger.)

As Jin-Woo becomes stronger, he becomes more confident as well. He’s more bold in how he states his opinion, no more stuttering or nervous fidgeting. The change makes a remarkable difference. Add that to his changing body and Ryuji realizes he’s starting to become attracted to Jin-Woo. (The real question is whether Jin-Woo will notice on his own. I headcanon him as not having much experience with romance before the Double Dungeon incident. He was too busy going on raids and taking care of his sister.)

Perhaps he and Ryuji spar a few times before Jin-Woo has to go back to Korea? Ryuji obviously notices that Jin-Woo is stronger every time, wondering how this is possible and when Jin-Woo’s growth will stop. He’s both relieved and disappointed that he didn’t get to see Jin-Woo reach his own strength before he had to return home, almost looking forward to sparring with him as an equal.

I’m not sure about the timeline of everything. Perhaps Jin-Woo is in Japan for another two months after the Double Dungeon incident. He doesn’t go on raids during that time, focusing on getting stronger. He’s trying to avoid having his increased strength be noticed until he reaches S-rank.

Ryuji would probably help cover for him, saying that Jin-Woo is recovering from the trauma or something. He doesn’t have anything to gain by selling Jin-Woo out, especially not compared to having an S-rank Hunter as an ally.

So, Jin-Woo goes back to Korea, perhaps in time to save Yoo Jin-Ho’s life? The timeline’s probably going to be slightly off from canon to make everything work, but I’m not sure the Novel ever explained how fast things were happening anyway.

I think I’ll stop here. When I get around to writing this, then I’ll do more brainstorming. (Thank you for this suggestion, by the way. It probably wouldn’t have occurred to me to have E-rank Jin-Woo interacting with Ryuji at all without this idea. But this Hunter Exchange program means that Ryuji will have no choice but to pay attention to him, when he would have otherwise ignored such a low level Hunter.)

And a reminder to my followers, feel free to send in any of your fic ideas! I’d love to see them. ^_^

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me -Chapter 16

Warnings: Profanity, angst (sort of)

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @alievans007​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​

I had some of you call attention to another fic that was jacking pieces of my mine (including my OC) and I just want to thank you guys for having my back! You know who you are ;)   God that other site is a cesspool!

After their naps and lunch, Tyler takes the two littlest down to the water; settling down at the edge with a life jacket clad Declan next to him, the toddler crouching down to dig and play in the wet sand.  He holds Addie along his forearm, the back of her head resting in his palm, his other hand cupping water and allowing it to the drop through his fingers and onto her tiny body. Starting at the top of her feet and slowly moving all the way to the top of her head; her eyes widening and her toes curling at the texture and the temperature, yet never uttering even the smallest of cries. He remembers doing the same with Millie; taking her to the beach as often as possible, slowly and patiently working at getting her used to the water. It had been a big part of his life growing up; the happiest times of his often painful and traumatizing childhood had all happened near or in the water. Spending hours there with his mother. She’d been the one who had taught how to swim and had recruited a neighbor to give him surfing lessons.

It’s where he’s always felt grounded. Relaxed by the feel of the water against his body, the sound of the waves, the smell of salt that lingers in the air. And sharing it with his children is of dire importance; that they have good memories of their father.  Not ones of him leaving in the middle of the night and not returning for days and often weeks on end. Not of him coming back through the front door with stitches and bruises marring his face, broken bones set in casts, arms in slings.   They are all just babies still. Way too young to be burdened with memories of THAT life.    Once they’d moved, he’d decided to devote himself to being the best father he can possibly be; one that spends time with them, who doesn’t miss birthdays, who isn’t too hung over to get up and make breakfast for them in the morning.  All mistakes that he’s already made and will regret for the rest of his life.

Much like her big sister, Addie shows no fear of the water. There’s no flinching or grimacing or fussing; even when he cups a handful of it in his palms and lets it trickle down onto the top of her head. Millie had been the same. Fearless. And still is almost six years later. Always willing to try new things, spending her entire day in and out of the water if you’d let her. The twins had been apprehensive; living in Colorado all their lives, they’d never been exposed to the ocean, and it had been overwhelming and scary for both. But they’d battled through it; both decent, strong swimmers that now shared their father’s passion for surfing. Declan prefers to say on the sidelines; happy to just sit in the surf while watching his siblings.

The introduction to the new neighbor is still playing in his mind; the awkward yet rather amusing way she rambled when embarrassed, her blatant honesty, the way she hadn’t been the least bit shy when it came to checking him out and making comments about what she saw. He’s not sure if he finds her charming or annoying.  If he wouldn’t mind her coming by on a regular basis or if he’d try and avoid her as much as possible. Meeting new people isn’t easy for him; he’d spent decades constantly looking over his shoulder, viewing everyone around him as a potential threat.  His suspiciousness and leeriness of strangers became even more intense when became a father again, and then reaching its peak when Michael McMann had come alone and put his family in danger. It’s why living somewhere fairly remote had been so important; he’s able to control who comes around the people he loves. He doesn’t always have to be so guarded. He could let the kids out onto the beach to play –within eyesight- and not worry that someone was out there lurking around, waiting for a chance to grab one of them. He craves the privacy that comes hand in hand with where they’ve chosen to settle down; more relaxed with the sense of security being here has brought him.

Which is why he hadn’t been the exactly thrilled to hear that his wife had been so welcoming to the new neighbor. That she’d not only befriended her so quickly but had taken his two youngest over to the woman’s house. Had entrusted her –a stranger- with Declan’s care.  It had unnerved and angered him. That she’d be that careless with not only her own safety, but with the safety of his children as well. For someone that had been in the job herself, she is far too trusting. Always seeing the side of everyone without even considering their bad side. She’d called him paranoid; accuse of him being overprotective and making her feel as if he wanted to keep her a prisoner in her own home. It isn’t his intention.  Yes, he’s protective. He’s the first one to admit to that. But given some of the things that have happened to them –to her- in the past six and a half years, he feels he has a reason to be. He’d come close to losing her. Twice. Three times if he counted their six-month separation.  And there’s no way in hell he’s letting that happen again; no way he ever lets a stranger get close enough to hurt her.

Even now he’s on edge. Occasionally glancing each way down the beach. The bend around the woods in one direction, the expanse of near white sand in the other; near indiscernible outlines of other that live on the road enjoying their own private sections of beach.  Even looking over his shoulder towards the house; almost expecting to see someone watching him from the back patio or creeping up behind him. The latter fills him with panic; strong and choking.  And he briefly closes his eyes in an attempt to chase it away.  Logically he knows it’s unhealthy, living like this. But logic is a rarity these days.

He places his other forearm under Addie, one hand over the other as he slowly lowers her into the water; until it just reaches the outer edge of her ears. She’s calm. Content. Not a fear in the world. Those dark eyes rivetted on his blue ones; nothing but pure and utter trust and faith in him. It’s as if...even at that young of an age...she knows that nothing will ever happen to her if he’s around. That there’s nothing he won’t do to keep her safe.

Declan settles down beside him, tucking the little –yet remarkably solid- body tightly into his side, a sand covered thumb stuck in his mouth.  

“That’s just gross, mate,” he little nudges the toddler with his elbow. “I know us guys do some gross shit, but I have to draw the line somewhere.”

“Shit,” Declan echoes, and reluctantly removes the thumb from his mouth in favor of curling both arms around Tyler’s bicep.  

He’s always been the affectionate one; a constant need to be physically close to either his mother or father. It’s comforting to him; the feel of their skin or even their hair against him, giving him a sense of calm and security. Even when he was a baby he’d had ‘wandering hands’, constantly touching their face or holding a piece of their clothing while taking a bottle or being rocked to sleep.  Deeply sensitive and intuitive for someone so young. Much like Tanner; an old soul stuck in a tiny body. Their father’s looks but their mother’s personality.  

Tyler stretches both legs out in front of him; grimacing at the sharp, sudden pain that comes from both the right knee and hip.  The latter is new; most likely from falling asleep on it or pulling something while working out. And he lays Addie along his thighs; one hand over her eyes to shield them from the sun, the other coming to rest on to side of Declan’s head as he presses a kiss to his hair.

“Tired?”

“’ungry,” Declan replies.

“Hungry?” Tyler grins. “Again? You just ate.”

Declan shrugs. “’ungry,” he repeats.

“Me too. Wanna go home? Get something to eat?”

The toddler nods, then gives a loud yawn before scrambling to his feet. “Stanny!” he suddenly announces, and then points down the beach.

“Who’s Stanny?”

“Daddy...look...” Declan grabs a handful of Tyler’s hair. “Stanny!”

He glances towards whatever has captured his son’s attention; a tan and black pug running towards them, the frazzled neighbor in hot pursuit. And he grabs a hold of the back of Declan’s shorts before he can bolt, easily and effectively keeping the kind in place.

“You don’t do that,” he scolds his son, tone harsher than it needs to be. “You don’t run of off that like that. Ever.”  He’s agitated. Annoyed. Even pissed off. For six months he’s enjoyed the privacy their stretch of land has providing, liking the anonymity that relative seclusion has given him. Now twice in less than two hours someone has had the nerve to invade his ‘happy place’ as his wife calls it. And not just someone. The same someone.

“Is there a part of ‘private beach’ you don’t understand?” he inquires, as Salena finally reaches them, crouching down in the sand to allow Declan to climb all over her; hugging and kissing her before he settles down to play with the pug as it rolls around in the sand.

“Well maybe Mac is smart enough to read, but Stanny isn’t,” she retorts.

“I don’t know if you’re aware, but they make these things called leashes. I could buy you one if you need me to.”

“Mac isn’t always on leash,” Salena points out.

“Mac doesn’t leave our property, so....”

“Are you always this grumpy?” she inquires. “Were you born this way or...”

“It’s a gift. You know, for six months I’ve haven’t seen anyone other than my own family. I kind of like it that way. Now I’ve seen you twice. In the same day.”

“You’re anti-social.”

“You can put it that way if you want. I like my privacy.”

“Esme told me you get this like this,” she says. “Intense.”

“Yeah? Well Esme needs to learn to keep her mouth shut. She’s a little too...”

“Talkative.”

He shakes his head. “Trusting.”

“And that’s a problem because....”

“I don’t trust anyone.”

“Sounds like you’re the one with the problem. Not her.”

Tyler smirks. “If you lived the life I had, you wouldn't trust anyone either.”

She arches an eyebrow and cocks her head to the side. “What kind of life is that?”

“The kind that’s not of your business. Really?” he asks, sighing heavily and rolling his eyes when she sits down beside him. “Am I giving off some kind of vibe that says: ‘make yourself comfortable’? Do I seem like I’m interested in making friends?”

“No,” Salena admits. “But maybe you need one.”

“Unlike my wife, I don’t feel the need to have contact with people outside of my family.”

“That sounds unhealthy.”

“What’s unhealthy is the things I’m thinking towards you right now.”

She grins. “Dirty things?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. Ragey things. Violent things. Has anyone ever told you they want to drown you before? Because that’s what I want to do to you right now.”

“You know what I’m most curious about when it comes to you? How someone like Esme ends up with someone like you. She’s so...I don’t know...her. And you’re so...you.”

“You were checking me out below the waist earlier. There's your answer. My secret when it comes to keeping her around.”

It’s Salena’s turn to smirk. “I think you can be pretty charming when you want to be. When you let yourself be. What kind of job did you have before? Is that what made you like this? So... I don’t know...bitchy.”

“People make me bitchy,” Tyler informs her. “People like you.”

“All the scars,” she comments, as her hand reaches out to rest on his shoulder; fingertips tracing the thin, slightly puckered line that runs from the base of his neck to the top of his right shoulder. “Whatever you did before must have been pretty hard core.”

He yanks his arm away, annoyed by her touch. “I was in the army. SASR.”

“Special Air Services Regiment. That’s impressive. You served overseas?”

“A handful of times.”

“What did you do after that? How’d you meet Esme?”

“Why are asking me all of this? Why is it so important to you?”

She shrugs. “Curiosity.”

“We worked together. The people we were both working for at the time put us together on a job.”

“Who were these people?”

“None of our business.”

“Why so secretive? Was it THAT bad? So awful that neither of you will talk about it?”

“We left that life behind. We don’t talk about it because it didn’t exactly end well. So we put it in the past and moved on. And that’s where we want it to stay. In the past.”

“Was it illegal?”

He scowls. “What did I just say?”

“I’ll get it out of you eventually.  Once we become friends too.”

Tyler snorts. “Don’t hold your breath.”

“You’re used to getting your own way, aren’t you,” she states.

“I’m used to people minding their own business and leaving me alone. There’s six people in this world I want around me. You’re not on the list.”

“Not yet,” she sing songs.

Tyler rolls his eyes.

“Opposites really do attract, I guess. You and Esme are just so different. She’s very cute and sweet and friendly and...”

“You don’t know her that well. You think you know everything there is to know about her in just a few days? There’s way more do her than that, trust me.”

“...and you’re so...you.  You must balance each other out in some way. I’m still trying to figure out how.”

“Well don’t strain yourself too hard.”

She smirks. “You CAN be a real dick.”

“It’s my specialty. Along with scaring people away.”

“You’re not THAT scary. Okay,” she laughs, when he stares at her pointedly. “Maybe you are. Although I think intimidating is a better word to describe you. You intimidate people.  You’ve got this intense way about you and you’re freakishly tall and you’ve got all the muscles and the tattoos and the scars and the huge arms. Can I touch them?”

He laughs. “What?”

“Your arms. Can I touch them? I’ve never seen arms like that.”

“Yeah...no....you can’t. That’s just weird as fuck.”

“What about your back? Can I touch that?”

He frowns. “What is wrong with you?”

“You’ve never had anyone to ask you to flex so they can touch your back or your arms?”

“I’m not in the habit of letting women touch me. Especially weird ones.”

“Because your wife wouldn’t like it? Because she’d get jealous?”

“Because I respect her. Why would I let other women touch me? I’m married. Happily.”

“So then why do you look like that? Why do you work so hard to get a body like that?”

“Because I can. Because I want to. And because my wife likes it. You know, the one woman who’s allowed to touch me. As much as she wants.”

Salena grins. “Intense AND loyal.”

“I’m faithful,” Tyler corrects her. “So if you’ve got something going on in that head of yours, you need to get it out of there. Because it’s never going to happen. I don’t cheat.”

“Ever?”

“Ever. And what the fuck is with all the weird questions?”

“You’re the one answering them,” Salena points out. “You haven’t told me to fuck off. Yet.”

“I’m getting there. Any minute now.”

“’ungry,” Declan announces, and plops down into the sand, a pout on his face.

“I gotta feed him before he goes into a Hulk rage,” Tyler says. “I’d say it was nice talking to you, but...”

“You’re warming up to me,” she says. “Admit it.”

“Yeah, no. Sorry,” he smirks, as he tucks Addie into his chest, hand supporting the back of her head as he stands up.

“You’re a tough nut to crack, Tyler Rake,” she calls after him.

“You get used to it,” he says, then takes Declan by the hand and leads him towards the house.

****

He’s in the kitchen when she arrives home; standing at the sink in just a pair of well-worn and tattered jeans that sit low on his hips, hair damp and messy, a slight sunburn noticeable across his shoulders and the back of his neck. Tending to the dirty dishes in the sink and making up a dozen baby bottles to store in the fridge. It’s a far cry from the man he used to be. The one who’d taken out nearly an entire apartment full of hostiles in Dhaka with his bare hands. Yet it’s phenomenally attractive; the domestic side of him. To see someone that big and that strong tending to the more simple and mundane things of everyday life. He enjoys the simplicity of it all because it is far removed from the life he used to live.

“Hey,” she greets, as she places her purse on one of the barstools in front of the island and two shopping ones –one brown paper- on top of the counter. “You’re busy, busy,” she says, as she lays a hand on the small of his back, standing on her tiptoes as he leans down to kiss her. “No rest for the weary, huh? Where’s Declan and the baby?”

“Both asleep. Second nap of the day.”

“Wow, you really do have some skills. Getting them to a second nap already? Normally he’s still fighting the first one when I’m home alone with him.”

“I use threats.”

“And by threats you mean you bribe him,” she grins, and carries the paper bag to the fridge. “The market was extra good today,” she says, as she begins unloading her purchases. “I bought all kinds of goodies.”

“That better not be kale. Because if you start feeding me that shit again...”

“It’s good for you,” she informs him.

“It tastes like grass clippings and the tears of baby animals.”

“Well lucky for you, I can’t stand the taste of either. It’s spinach. To make salads with. You wrote it on the list. For your smoothies. What’s this?” she pulls out an unfamiliar plastic container and peers under the lid. “Have you been experimenting in the kitchen again, or...”

“I dunno. Something the neighbor brought over. She’s really annoying by the way.”

“You think everyone is annoying. Including me sometimes. Mmm. Taco salad. We can have it with supper tonight. I thought maybe we could try and patch things up Ovi before you start busting his ass. Maybe you can come some stuff on the barbecue?”

“Whatever you want, baby. You’re the boss.”

“You’re finally admitting that after six and a half years?” she teases, and then pops open the lid on the plastic container and grabs a spoon from the silverware drawer. “You want to try some?”

Tyler frowns. “You’re actually going to eat that?”

“Well it’s not just to look at,” she laughs, then scoops up some of the salad. “By the way, the doctor sent something home for you.”

“Viagra?”

“Please. As if you need Viagra. You can get it up if there’s a stiff in the room. I made him write you a note. Saying that it’s perfectly okay for us to go back to regular activities.”

He grins. “Regular activities as in...”

“Yes, as in that. He says there’s no rule that says we have to wait that long. That a lot of couples go right back to having sex as soon as they feel comfortable. He just said that we have to be careful because there’s higher risk for things like uterine infections and all that. So you can erase that memo on your phone. The one that’s counting down the days until your dry spell is over.”

“I’m not doing anything until I see the note.”

“He even put it in an envelope with your name on it. Just like he did when you were the only one who wanted to know if Addie was going to be a boy or a girl,” she journeys over to where her purse sits, digging through it until she finds the item in question, then joins him at the sink and holds it out to him. “So there you go. No more solo studying for you.”

“I was kind of enjoying all the blowjobs,” Tyler grins.

“Well it doesn’t mean we have to stop those. Just that we can do other things now too. The things we enjoy the most. So...” she pops some of the salad on her spoon into her mouth. “Oh my God. So good. You have to try some.”

“I don’t want to try it,” he says, and tears into the envelope.

“You’ll like it. I’ve been feeding your ass for six and a half years. I think I know if you’ll like something. “

He frowns and looks down at the food being offered to him.

“When did you get so picky? You’re in a bulk and when you’re in a bulk, you eat everything. “

“I don’t know what’s in it.”

“Hamburger meat, cheese, onions, tomatoes, taco seasoning, pieces of crushed up Doritos. What’s not to like?”

“It’s not that I won’t like it. It’s that I don’t know what’s in it.”

“Tyler,” she sighs. “Our new neighbor is not trying to poison you. Get a grip. I just had some and I feel fine. Humor me, please.”

He finally relents, then nods in approval.

“You need to stop being so paranoid,” she points the spoon at him, then drops it into the sink and returns the container to the fridge. Why would she try to kill you? She’s harmless.”

“Jeffery Dahmer probably seemed harmless at first too.”

“I highly doubt she’s a cannibalistic serial killer. Not everyone is a threat, regardless of what you think. I thought you were getting better about that. Your fear of strangers.”

“First, it’s not a fear. I’m not afraid of anyone and you know that. Second, when did you become so trusting of them? You did the job too.  You know you can’t trust anyone. That you have to see everyone as a possible threat.”

“Well I’m not on the job anymore. And neither are you. It’s time to let that go. This thinking everyone is up to no good and out to get you. It’s not healthy and you know it.   Arre you taking your meds?”

“Yes!” he snaps. “Why is that your go to for everything? Why do you automatically get on my ass about taking my meds? I’m not a fucking child.”

“I never said you were a child. But I know what you’re like. How you go on and off of them all the damn time. And I know what you get like when you don’t take them. You don’t need to jump down my throat at the stupidest shit. If you can’t handle being alone with two of them at once...”

“That’s not fucking it. When have I ever had a hard time being alone with two at once? I’ve been alone with all five of them and never had any issues. I’m not a rookie that doesn’t know what they’re doing.”

“Okay, I don’t know what’s crawled up your ass, but what the hell Tyler? If you didn’t want me going out with my brother, why didn’t you just say something. If you wanted to be the one that went with me to the doctor, you didn’t you just tell me that and Kyle would have stayed with Declan and Addie.”

“I don’t give a shit about any of that,” he snarls.

“So then what the fuck? You were fine when I left the house. You were even fine when I walked in here ten minutes ago. Now you’re like this? What the hell?”

“How do you even know that Sabrina or Sally or whatever the fuck her name is?”

“Her name is Salena. She’s our neighbor. And she happens to be a very nice person.”

“So all of a sudden we’re making friends with the neighbors?”

“Yes, Tyler. Because that’s what people do. They make friends. At least that's what normal people do. We are not getting into this. We are not having this argument again.  We’ve had this argument at least once a month since we moved here. You don’t like me being friends with other moms at the school, you don’t like me hanging out with the girls I met in the toddler  playgroup, you didn’t like me going into town to meet with other moms at that mom’s social thing at the community center. Enough.”

“You don’t even know her,” he attempts to reason, as she snags a bottle of water from the fridge. “Yet you just go over there and hang like you’ve been friends with her forever?”

“How else do I get to know people? Or is that the problem? You don’t want me getting to know people. You just want me all to yourself for some goddamn reason. Like you think I’m going to meet people and suddenly forget I’m a wife and a mother and want me single again.”

“That’s not what I think.”

“People have friends Tyler. Maybe you don’t. And I don’t get on your ass about that. You like being alone. You like it when it’s just us and the kids. And I get why you’re like that and I respect it and understand it and I don’t pressure you to get out of your comfort zone. I get why you are the way you are. But I’m not like you. No matter how hard you try to make me like you.”

“I don’t try to make you like me. I don’t expect you to. But you’re taking my kids over there. My two littlest kids. My two most vulnerable. You even had her watch Declan. He was over there. Alone.”

“What do you think is going to happen to them? What do you think she was going to do to him? She’s just a nice person.”

“No one is that nice.”

“In your experience. I’ve met tons of really nice people. I met tons of them when I used to volunteer at the school and go on field trips and got to be around the other moms. But I wasn’t allowed to be around them for too long, was I. Because you didn’t want me to be alone with anyone, yet you didn’t want to tag along and hang around with the other dads either.”

“What the hell am I going to have in common with other dads?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Tyler. Maybe there’s another hired killer among them just waiting for you to come along.”

His eyes narrow. “That’s fucking low and you know it.”

“You’re right,” Esme admits. “That was. And I’m sorry. But I’m sick of this. I’m sick and tired of this same bullshit from you. Where you think it’s perfectly healthy and normal to keep me locked up like a goddamn prisoner in my own home.”

“That is not what I’m trying to do.”

“Look, I know you want to protect e. And I understand why you’re so hell bent on it. I know that everything with McMann has put you so on edge that even six months later you can’t let go of it. I get it. Especially considering what happened at his house and what he told you he would have done to me. I get that’s fucked you up. And I love you for wanting to keep me safe. But I’ve always felt safe with you. Always.”

“I just want to protect you.”

“But it’s an obsession with you. Can’t you see that? It’s not normal. It’s so far from normal. I’m not some package that you need to get safely to someone.”

“I know that.”

“Do you? Because it doesn’t seem that way. I’m not some fragile little thing that someone’s hired you to bring back to the. I’m your wife.”

“Yeah, you are. And you’re mother of my children. And it’s not fucking okay that you took my kids over to a stranger’s house and put them in danger.”

“In danger of what? What is going to happen to them? She’s harmless!”

“You don’t know that!” he snarls.

“I do know that. And if you sat down and thought about it logically instead of emotionally, your instincts would tell you the same thing.”

“I’m going to be emotional!” Tyler argues. “Those are my fucking kids!”

“They’re my kids too. Or do you conveniently forget that when you hear something you don’t like? You didn’t make those kids on your own and you sure as hell didn’t give birth to them.”

He sighs heavily, nostrils flaring. “You know what, don’t get fucking mouthy with me. You took my kids and you intentionally put them in danger and...”

“Oh no you don’t,” she furiously interjects. “You do not accuse me of being neglectful when it comes to OUR kids. That’s out of line and you know it. Because I would die for those kids in a heartbeat. No questions asked. And I’ve spent almost six years dedicating every waking moment to taking care of them. And I’ve given everything I have to you, too. And yet you have the fucking nerve to accuse me of intentionally putting OUR kids in harm's way?  Fuck you, Tyler. I wasn’t the one taking off all the time and leaving those kids. I’ve made some mistakes, but don’t you dare stand there acting like you’re the perfect fucking parent. Because you’ve fucked up. A lot.”

He nods in agreement. The truth hitting him hard. Her words stinging. And considerably knocking down the level and intensity of his anger. “You’re right,” he says, as leans back against the counter, arms crossed over chest. “I have.”

“I’m the one that cleaned your messes up when it comes to those kids,” tears stream down her face. Hot. Angry. Hurt. “Every time you were away, and you missed a birthday. Every time you were too hungover to even get out of bed in the morning and have breakfast with them. Or when we were separated, and you were too drunk to even remember you had visitation with them. I’m the one that had to answer their questions when they wondered if you left because they were bad and if you didn’t want to see them because you hated them. You don’t know what that was like. Hearing Millie and the twins asking those things. Seeing how heartbroken they were because all the wanted was for you to come home yet you couldn’t even bother to clean yourself up to spend time with them.”

Sighing once more, he crosses one ankle over the other; eyes riveted on the floor, chewing at the inside of his cheek as he struggles with his own emotions.  It’s not a shock to hear those things; he knows the things he’s done and the mistakes he’s made. But to hear that his kids had asked those questions...that they thought he wasn’t around because they’d done something or because he hated them...hurts like no other pain he’s ever experienced.

“How dare you come at me like that,” she continues, wiping frantically at the tears that stain her cheeks. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I made a friend. And I trusted her with Declan for a couple of hours. And if you trusted me at all...”

“I do trust you. You’re one of the few people I do trust.”

“...you wouldn’t accuse of doing something to hurt him. Because I would never hurt him. I would never hurt any of your kids. Because I love them, and I love you, and you guys are the best things that have ever happened to me.   No...” she shoves his hands away when he reaches for her. “...don’t...don’t touch me...”

He ignores her, wrapping both arms around her slender body and drawing her tightly against him. An arm circling her waist, a hand on the back of her head, holding it to his chest.

“I’m a human being, Tyler. And I need to feel like one. I need to be more than just a wife and a mother. Because I don’t even know who I am anymore outside of those things. And that can’t be all there is to be life. No matter how much I love you and our kids. I don’t want that to be all there is.”

“It’s okay,” he drops a kiss on the top of her head. “It’s going to be okay.”

“And I’m sorry. If the things I said hurt you.  But you hurt me, and I lashed out and...”

“I’m sorry, Esme. I didn’t mean to say the shit I did. I was just annoyed and pissed off and you’re always the one that has to pay the price. And I fucking hate that. That I do that to you.”

“I don’t want to this anymore. I don’t want to fight like this with you. We were doing so good and then this shit Ovi happened and Nik showed back up and it all just went to hell again. And I hate that. That we take all this shit on each other. Because it’s not fair. To either of us.”

“No,” he agrees. “It’s not.”

“I don’t want to fight with you. You’re the last person I want to fight with. We’re supposed to be in this together. Not letting shit come between us like this.  We need to work harder. At not letting things get between us. Or we won’t make it. And I want to.”

“So do I,” he says, and places both hands on the sides of her hands, thumbs clearing away her tears. “I love you. Even if I have a shitty way of showing it sometimes.”

“I love you too.”

He kisses her. Long and soft. Tasting the salt that lingers on her lips.

“I need to go lie down. You can come too if you want. But I understand if you want to be alone. That was a lot to hear and you probably hate me for some of it.”

“I could never hate you,” he assures her, and places his lips against her brow. “I’ll be up in a few minutes.”

“Okay,” she gives a small smile before resting her forehead against his chest.  

He combs his fingers through her hair, allowing the soft tresses to slide between his fingers before she pulls away.  “I’ll change,” he says.  “I promise.”

She just gives a small nod, attempting another smile before stepping away and leaving the room.