#however i HAVE also been having a hot flash for the past like 5 minutes. someone help i am so fucking warm. too warm

[mars-ipan]

if nothing else i have loud angry music

[mysteriouslybluepirate]

Kisses In the Dark-A PodPlay- Kinda. Day 6 of Exploring Con Content

Spoilers for Kisses in The Dark

Warnings up to chapter 5: Abuse, stalking, murder, eating/slurping up humans, nonconsensual kissing(it's how he kills people), cheating, implied/brief sex scenes, brief mentions of a past abortion. 

I HAD SO MANY ISSUES TRYING TO LISTEN TO THIS. Chapters 1-4 worked fine. However, with chapter 5 I could not listen past the 5:46 minute mark. 'All right' I thought, after trying to find other sites streaming it and getting the same error 'I'll just skip the chapter'. So I did, and at 5:21 of chapter 6, it also flashed that error.

So what I have below is essentially judging chapters 1-4. I had complaints about the narrative and romance progression, but since I can't see their whole arc, this will be about vibes.

So for this 8ish hour multi voiced audio series, the main love interest is voiced by Con O'Niell, named John. Opposite to the love interest voiced by Rhiannon Clements, Kate. 

My favorite things before we get deeper is the notable roles for Con O'Neill listed on the summary is Chernobyl(fair, as you'd likely recognize his voice) and The Batman. This came out Nov. 2020. The Batman came out 2022. So whoever wrote up this summary for the book Googled Cons IMDB, saw that he was in this movie, prayed that someone would care, and just slapped that on. Not knowing Con was mostly in the background and had less than 20 lines of dialogue. But can you imagine your only reference for the romantic lead of this story being the asshole from Chernobyl. Funniest shit ever. He had so many other roles to choose from guys! Maybe they didn't want his more queer roles to be listed for a straight romance? 

Now, I have a bias to favor Queer stories; I know this about myself and often try to stay to my own lane. Not out of hatred but so much of the media that I consume isn't queer. Be it movies or day time television. So what I read/listen to is one of the easiest spaces to curate exactly what I want.

So when I read the title/synopsis I was skeptical, but willing to give it a shot. 

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I am here for Con. I likely would not have listened to this project if not for him. In fact, I found John much more charming than I would have if John had been played by a different voice actor. Considering I was essentially just imagining a more pissed-off Izzy Hands being our protagonist. It's a real'if I didn't find this man hot, this would be creepy' situation.

This story is about a broken old Lovecraftian monster of a man who falls for the lady next door who's stuck in an abusive relationship. I realize that if either party swapped gender, or our male protagonist showed interest in men(beyond wanting to eat them), I know that I would have enjoyed this more. Because this is a standard romantic horror book, almost every cliché is touched and I predicted the twist that some people post online about. Yet there is something inherently queer in monster stories. Creatures that feel othered by society; that need to hide to be safe. So while yeah, it's a romantic novel, it still has some othered element to it. 

Overall I didn't hate it as much as I'd expected. I admire how each murder was described and Con adds a fun disassociated element to the character in his narration. Like he's been killing for so long, nothing phases him. The chapter where he kills five guys at the amusement park, Bloody Minds, was a highlight.

The romantic moments were sweet(that I could hear). The dancing and trying to show her the fun parts of life were very much trying to relate to the target audience. 

Again, I don't know exactly how it ends but see the story beats. If anyone below wants to summaries the story that tells me where these two end up in the end (together, dead, separate), I'd be grateful. I did enjoy this, I just can't find a way to listen to it, and I'd rather mentally close off this series than wait just in case.This is the only website I see anyone talking about this pod series.

I know it gets more cliché, but I was starting to care about where they go as a couple. Mainly cause I see it as a doomed love situation.

AS FOR CON!

Yes. Con either needed a better mic, and/or a pop filter. I got used to the static effect, and the editors did their best to cover it up with background sound. There are only a few points where it was noticeable. Con does a soft narrator voice that's easy to listen to, with some difficulty with enunciation and the fact I don't hear his accent all too often.

Yes. He is the most enjoyable part of this project. The lady doing the performance for Kate does a good job and I did grow to enjoy the performance, but she's just doing the role. Classic vampire craving humanity again storyline, with some fantastic imagery thrown in. I thought the age gap between the voice actors would bother me, but he's literally a century-old creature. So, eh.

Lovecraftian Izzy is a tag I keep an eye out for on AO3, so to see essentially that here was great. It was fun seeing him portray the souls trapped inside of John. Some more 'cringe' bits out of context, but if you listen to how his voice acts Mohg from Elden Ring, it gives off the same vibe. He portrayed desperate-sad-lonely falling in 'Love' very well.

The few sex scenes so far were non intrusive and fade to black in nature, besides her first fantasy.

It bugs me that we don't get a clear understanding on how The Kiss works. Cause he can kiss her skin, but it won't kill her? Is it an orifice thing? Cause he killed a guy sticking his tongue down his ear, so...

Highly recommend it if you already read these sort of stories or are on the fence and just want to hear Con and have some time to put it on in the background.

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Performance: 8/10 for everyone all around. A few duds in side characters with a few speaking lines, but overall good stuff from everyone. All the scenes between Kate and John are fun and well acted.

Editing: 8/10 Fun background music and sound effect stuff going on. Super nonintrusive, and when it is, it's too point.

Story/Writing: 6-7/10; you've seen it before. From what I've seen people complain online, the story gets worse at the very end. Don't really know why, but yeah. Sadly, I guessed that there was a god interfering here. I'm glad John didn't just immediately kill her abusive boyfriend, but god, I'm mad I couldn't hear about it. I read an Izzy Hands/John fic out of curiosity and it really pointed out how melodramatic and gothic the writing here is. The way this world is described is very fun, and something that could be fun to emulate in my own writing.

Pacing for an audio medium 7/10: The first chapter is a bit slow, but after a few murders, it picks up well.

Overall 7-8/10. Fun if you go in with low expectations. Again, this might go down if I ever finish Hard Shadows, True Stories, and Sacrifice. But I just can't find a way, sadly.

If you've read this and want somewhere to talk about it down below, don't be afraid to spoil! I love all the comments and likes I get for doing this.

Have an amazing day y'all!

@ivegotnonameidea thanks again for the rec!

Next, who knows? We'll see, probably a movie, and knock through some of everyone's suggestions.

[wanderinginksplot]

Hiya, I was wondering if I could please request 3 (Echo) with B+O (Injury/sickness recovery + first kiss)? I don’t really mind who’s in recovery or whether it’s 501st echo/bad batch echo, I just thought these prompts would lead nicely into a confession between our two main characters; also I just want to say I love your writing!! ❤️

Aww, thank you so much for the request and for being so kind, Anon! Sorry this took forever, but I’ve been stuck in an idea block for a week or two, and I ended up writing about four different versions of this. You’re very sweet, but you probably shouldn’t be nice to me, because apparently, it makes me write one-shots that are way too long. So here’s a 2700 word one-shot...

Also! It ended up being a tad spicy toward the end. Nothing anywhere close to M-rating, but more than I usually write in one-shots.

Echo + Injury/Sickness Recovery + First Kiss

The first time you met Echo, you didn't like him very much.

You were in the medbay for a sickness that was taking Coruscant by storm, hitting nat-born GAR members especially hard. As a nat-born intelligence officer, you had been ordered to the GAR's main medbay, which had been sub-divided into large bays full of cots. Almost every cot was filled with GAR personnel who needed treatment for the same sickness.

It wouldn't have been bad if you had been able to take the meds right away and start the healing process, but you had been on a dangerous mission and fought the sickness off for longer than you should have. It had worked and you had survived your mission, but you were severely dehydrated. The medics - all clone troopers, by that point - had ordered you to stay until you were fully healed and they could get your fluid levels back where they should have been. Faced with no other options, you had agreed.

And then the 501st had arrived. 

Through your IV, you had gotten through half a bag of a liquid you preferred not to think too hard about. The medics promised that your meds would be kicking in soon, and you would feel much better before the day was over. For the moment, you felt nauseated and every part of your body ached, especially your head.

When the troopers came in, their white armor painted with blue accents in various styles, they were so loud that the rest of the medbay went quiet. 

One of the medics, his hair shaved short to show off a set of intricate tattoos, hurried up to them as he pulled off his gloves. You could hear his hissed question from your bed on the other side of the large room. "What are you idiots doing here?"

One of the men beamed at him. "We're in trouble!"

You scoffed to yourself. You had no difficulty believing they had gotten on someone's bad side. 

The tattooed medic rubbed his temples. "Hardcase… what did you guys do now?"

You had heard stories about the rowdy 501st from other operatives. They were supposed to be a nightmare to work alongside, all explosions and heroics without any grasp of subtlety. 

One of the other men stepped forward and seemed to be offering an explanation, but he did it in a voice pitched low enough that you couldn't hear him. You were grateful for that, and did your best to fall asleep.

It wasn't to be, however, as one of the 501st made his way down the row of beds in your direction. He chatted with some of the other patients, laughing loudly at their responses. By the time he reached you, you could have cheerfully put a blaster to the 5 tattooed on his temple.

"And how are you doing today?" the trooper belted out. 

"In a lot of pain, actually," you snapped at him, a visceral response to the effect his voice had on your roiling stomach. "Can you please talk more quietly?"

There. A please. You were being polite.

"If I'm quiet, does that mean I can stay over here with you, pretty lady?" he asked with a wink, settling onto the foot of your bed.

You eyed him stonily. You felt revolting from the effects of the sickness, and you were wearing a GAR-issued medical gown besides. ‘Pretty’ was an attempt at flattery, and not even a believable one.

"Fives," the medic with the head tattoos admonished, stepping up to your bedside as well. "Stop. She doesn't feel well and she doesn't need you hanging around, making it worse."

"Me?" Fives asked, sounding both shocked and offended. "We both know I only make things better, Kix."

You sighed and wished with your whole soul that they would both go away. You just wanted to sleep.

"Besides," Fives continued, "We were ordered to help in the medbay. You wouldn't want me to disobey orders, would you?"

From the look on Kix's face, he had lined up a scathing retort that you were dying to hear, but you needed to make a brief announcement. "If this conversation continues right here, I am going to vomit."

You had never seen two grown men move so quickly. You would have smiled if you didn't feel so rotten. 

"Echo," Kix called softly with a worried glance in your direction, beckoning yet another trooper over.

This one had no tattoos, but you vaguely recognized him as the only trooper you hadn't been able to overhear earlier.

"Get Fives away from here," Kix ordered. "Keep him productive and occupied, but don't let him talk."

Echo nodded and gave you an apologetic nod. "I'm sorry about him," he said, indicating Fives, who looked deeply offended.

"Please," was the only response you could muster, cradling your head delicately in your hands. From the bit of your peripheral vision that wasn’t blocked by your palms, you watched his shoulders slump slightly as he towed his brother away. When you finally fell asleep, your dreams were full of Echo’s disappointed face along with strong feelings of guilt.

The second time you met him was only a few hours later. You were having fever dreams. The medication had apparently worn off and no one had noticed. In your dreams, you had called a medic over a dozen times, but you always woke to find that you hadn’t said a thing, and fell asleep again before you could.

It was one of these shallow, fitful dreams that Echo interrupted. “Hey. Hey! Shhh, you’re having a nightmare. Wake up.”

Thoroughly confused by the world of the surrounding medbay, you squinted up at him. “Echo?” He nodded and you launched right into the speech you had prepared in your sleep. “I’m sorry I was rude earlier. I just… my head hurt, and you guys are loud, and-”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” Echo assured you, crouching by your bedside to put himself on your level. “The 501st - and Fives in particular - is very loud. It’s our best quality.”

You snorted at that and Echo’s kind face broke into a warm smile. “You should get back to sleep. It’s really late. Or early. I’m not sure which, but everyone else is asleep, and you should be, too.”

“I think I need some meds, actually,” you admitted. “I feel like death.”

Echo frowned and reached up to brush his fingers over your forehead, flinching back almost immediately. “Kriff, you’re burning up! Hang on, let me grab a medic for you.”

You nodded, but grabbed his wrist before he could leave, “If you bring me some water, I’ll love you forever.”

It was just a childish hyperbole, something you and your family had said whenever you had asked for a favor, particularly a minor one. Echo didn’t seem to have the same connection with it, based on the way he had frozen in place and was staring at you with wide eyes that flashed between your face and your grip on his wrist.

Clearing your throat, you released him and corrected yourself. “I mean, please? I’m very thirsty.”

Echo turned around a moment later and you sighed, hoping your hot face looked like the flush of a fever.

You were half-drowsing when Echo came back with Kix in tow. You jumped a bit when Kix said your name, and Echo was quick to soothe you. “Easy, easy. It’s just us.”

He handed you the biggest glass of water you had ever seen and retreated halfway across the medbay before you had chugged half of it.

The next day, you were actually feeling better. Granted, ‘better’ was a relative term, but you didn’t actively want to die any more, and that was something. The only thing messing up your day was the lingering awkwardness between you and Echo. Every time his circuit around the room took him past your cot, he would avoid your eyes. 

From your calculations, he looped around the gigantic medbay room every six minutes or so. On his next lap past, you softly asked, “Echo?”

You had meant to be subtle and quiet, but you were still a bit less hydrated than you should have been, and it came out as a horrifying croak. If someone had called your name in that voice, you would have immediately run away, but Echo just turned slightly and looked your direction.

“I’m sorry for last night,” you apologized.

“You already said that,” Echo reminded you gently. “The 501st is loud. I understand why you weren’t happy with us.”

“Not about that,” you forced out, half-wishing you could just let him think you had been delirious with fever and thus not responsible for anything you had said or done. “I mean that I’m sorry for saying the whole love you forever thing. It was a joke, but I feel like it landed poorly.”

“There’s no need, really,” Echo told you. He smiled then, a small sad smile. “We clones don’t get to see much good in the universe. Not with this war going on. Even though you were joking, it was nice to hear something like that.”

You stared at him, trying to keep the poker face the GAR had hired you for.

“Besides,” Echo said with a laugh, “if you want to see how a bad joke really sounds, hang out with Fives for a few minutes. You’ll have plenty of opportunity to see the difference!”

You chuckled at that and the smile he gave lit his whole face as he continued his patrol. You watched Echo leave, thinking hard. It was ironic that this was the conversation where your heart had melted just a touch. It wasn’t love, not yet, but this third exchange left feelings that were inappropriate considering that you had known him for less than a day.

That night, you couldn’t sleep, betrayed by all of the napping you had done during the day. Echo was patrolling the room again and noticed you on his fourth lap.

He crouched by your bedside once again. “Can’t sleep?”

“Nope,” you admitted with a sigh. “Can you?”

Echo frowned. “I can, but I’m on watch right now.”

“On watch,” you repeated skeptically. “For what?”

“Someone has to make sure the patients are doing okay while the medics sleep,” he explained. “It’s a very important job.”

“Your brothers are all playing sabacc in the corner,” you pointed out. “Go join them. Or, better yet, get some sleep. I haven’t seen you take a break yet.”

“You were unconscious for over half of the day,” Echo reminded you. “I could have been on break then.”

“You weren’t,” you told him confidently. “Because you wouldn’t have known that I slept the whole time.”

Echo frowned. “You’re too smart to work for the army.”

“Intelligence officer,” you explained simply. 

Lifting his eyebrows in exaggerated shock, Echo leapt to his feet and gave a dramatic salute. You pretended to aim a kick in his direction and you both dissolved into muffled giggles in an attempt not to wake any of the other patients.

“If you won’t try to sleep, at least sit down?” you requested, indicating the foot of your cot as you struggled to sit up so you could move out of his way. “You’re stressing me out. I can’t be expected to get better if I’m stressed.”

“We can’t have that,” Echo teased. He helped you sit up before he did anything else, but the awkwardness of the position left him hauling you up by your armpits. You were thankful that you had found the strength to walk to the sonic shower that day, at least. “Not like I can get sick from you, anyway.”

Echo sat talking with you for hours, even after his brothers had all drifted off at their sabacc table. Before you fell asleep again, he brought you another giant glass of water. You accepted it with a smile. “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

He nodded and left so you could get some sleep. By the time you had finished the glass, he was on the other side of the medbay and couldn’t hear you mutter, “Love you forever.”

For the next few days, Echo lived by your bedside. The conversations you had made you laugh so hard that you went into the occasional coughing fit and got the evil eye from Kix. So, you were less pleased than you had expected to be when Kix told you that you could be discharged the following day.

That night, you couldn’t sleep. Getting your sleep pattern back under control was going to be the biggest struggle, you reflected, staring at the massive beams supporting the ceiling.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” Echo teased, walking up. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

You waved a hand around dramatically. “I’m trying to commit these beautiful surroundings to memory. If I’m leaving tomorrow, I’ll need to remember the enchanting way the dust clings to that wall over there.”

Suddenly serious, Echo asked, “You’re leaving tomorrow?”

You nodded, and couldn’t tell if it was your imagination, or if he really looked disappointed. Still, he mustered a smile. “I’m glad.”

With a falsely offended gasp, you replied, “You’re glad I’m leaving? That’s rude!”

“No, I mean-!” Echo sputtered, grimacing at you when you started to laugh. “I’m glad you’re getting better. Even if you’re just as mean as the day I met you.”

“Yeah, I’m terrible,” you agreed with a grin. 

“You are not,” he countered immediately. “You’re sweet and funny and- I’ll miss you. Selfish, huh?”

“I’ll miss you, too,” you admitted. “I guess we’re both selfish. But, hey, you’ll finally get some sleep now!”

“I suppose I will,” Echo said with the ghost of his usual smile. “At least we can have one last overnight conversation. Unless you’re too tired?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Sit down, Echo.”

The two of you talked for hours that night. The medbay steadily got more silent and your eyes began to ache. Try as you might, you were still recovering from your illness and the point came when you couldn’t fight it off any longer. You fell into a light doze as Echo was talking.

You were dimly aware as he finished his sentence and waited for a response, but you couldn’t make yourself say anything. Echo gave an amused sounding hum and stood from your cot. You immediately missed his warmth, but felt like he was still standing by you.

Soft lips pressed against your forehead and left as Echo started to move away. “What was that cop-out bantha dung?” you asked blearily. 

Echo jumped a bit and stared down at you, but you were half-asleep, impulsive, and you knew what you wanted. You sat up to grab his shoulders and brought him back down to you, kissing him with as much fervor as an extremely tired person could muster.

He kissed you back, opening his mouth to release an almost-soundless groan, and you were suddenly wide awake. With both of you actively participating in your embrace, it didn’t take long for the pair of you to get carried away. 

When you finally broke apart, it was only because someone had cleared their throat sharply. 

Echo pulled back, bracing on his forearms to look up at Kix while you peered at the medic from under Echo’s chest. When had he gotten on top of you? His hip brushed against your upper thigh and you abruptly didn’t care anymore.

“I take it you’re well enough to be released from here?” Kix asked, a raised brow accentuating his smirk. 

You glanced around to find that half of the medbay was awake and staring at you and Echo with expressions ranging from bleary bewilderment to amused approval. Some of Echo’s brothers were awake as well, though their faces ran heavily to outright shock.

“Uh, yeah. I’m ready to go home,” you agreed, glancing up at Echo. “Wanna come with me?”

Echo nodded and glanced up at Kix. The medic shrugged and looked at the ceiling. “No, I have no idea where Echo went. He worked several around the chrono shifts and then he disappeared. I assume he went to get some well-deserved rest. Sign here.”

The last part was directed at you and you obligingly scrawled your name on the datapad he was holding out in your direction. 

“Your personal effects are in the front room,” Kix informed you. “Drink some water now and then, would you?”

“Of course, thanks,” you said absently, attention already stolen away by the fascinating blush creeping up Echo’s cheeks. You slipped out from under him and grabbed his hand to tow him behind you. “C’mon. You’re gonna love my apartment.”

---

A/N - ahh, why did this end up being such a novel? Sorry about that! If you want to read similar works, check out my masterlist or make a request based on this post (or make something up and I’ll do my best!). Thanks for reading!

[fizzychocolatemilk]

You've Got a Friend in Me (You've Got Troubles. I've Got 'em too.) (A Bakudeku Tropetember Fic)

Another Tropetember thingy (this one is a little late though...oops). I classify this one as a fic because it surpassed 1K. This one is for day eight:  5+1 / 3+1 (Five Times + One Time). AO3 link is here. It’s slightly angsty...so beware of feels.

tw: use of the f slur, homophobia, unsupportive parents, bullying

(1.)

“You’ll always be nothing but some dumbass, lightning-bolt faggot! You should just pack up and quit the hero course now. You’re too stupid to ever make it further than some lowly sidekick position,” the boy finished his abuse before dissolving into obnoxious laughter. 

 Said boy was one of Denki’s middle school classmates. Denki had accidentally run into him because he was texting Eijirou. The boy had looked over his shoulder and seen Eiji’s name (along with a heart) and started making fun of him for being “a faggot”. Denki knew he shouldn’t take what some asshole said to heart, but the things that he said reminded Denki of other times when he had been put down similarly. Lots of people seemed to think he was an incompetent dumbass who could never do anything right unless he had help, and, while sure, he was a little slow in academics...he definitely had other skill sets that made him a kick-ass hero! That didn’t mean that it was easy to convince himself of that.

 “Denki-kun! Hi!” a voice broke Denki out of his spiral.

 Denki turned toward the voice and, low and behold, it was Izu-kun. Denki gave Izuku a weak smile and a wave as he stood tensely next to the bully.

 “Denki! Who’s this? A friend?” Izuku asked as he walked up to the two. His voice sounded dangerous, and Denki could hear the “or foe?” that came after his words. At 17, Class 3-A knew that Izuku was dangerously protective of his friends, and they all did their best not to provoke his fury in any way. Because a feral Izuku was terrifying. 

 The bully didn’t know this though, and he simply laughed before “greeting” Izuku, “Ah, guess we’ve got another faggot. Or did you not know that Lightning Dolt here was a twink?”

 Izuku’s aura darkened several degrees at the boy's statement but still he shot the boy a bright (but fake) smile, “I’ll give you three seconds to run before I fucking destroy you.”

 The boy’s face dropped and he blinked, “Uhhh...what?”

 Izuku continued to smile, “One.”

 The boy’s eyes widened in panic, “Wait, man!”

 “Two.”

 The boy started running, “We can talk about this!”

 “Three,” Izuku immediately gave chase—or he would have if Denki hadn’t given him a small shock and held him back. Izuku struggled for a second before sighing and turning to Denki, “Denki-kun, you are more than just a brainless idiot and more than just a...a...you know. You’re amazing and talented in your own right and I’m proud to call you my friend.”

 Denki blinked in surprise before blushing lightly, “Thanks, Izu. I really appreciate it.” He smiled genuinely at Izuku.

 (2.)

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Momo,” the dark-haired woman stared harshly down at her daughter, “You may feel like this now, but one day you’ll find a nice, upstanding gentleman that captures your heart. Not some...punk-rock freak-girl.”

 Momo stared down at her feet and sighed softly before replying, “Yes, mother.”

 However, as she turned to make her way into the dorms, and her mother turned to meet with the chauffeur, she heard a very familiar voice. “Excuse me, ma’am! Yaoyorozu-san! May I have a word with you?” Momo turned to see Izuku-kun coming down the dorm steps and speed walking down the lawn to meet with the two women. He had a slightly dangerous aura (someone outside of Class A wouldn’t even notice), but Momo stood rigid as her friend stood up to her mother, “Yaoyorozu-san. I think you should consider taking your daughter more seriously. 

 “You might not know me well personally, but Yaomomo-chan and I know each other very well and I would consider us good friends. She’s smart, resourceful, and talented, and I think we can both agree that she will make a fantastic hero. But Yaomomo-chan is also responsible and mature, definitely mature enough to make her own decisions about her relationship choices. 

 “My own mother is very protective of me too, but I think that part of being a parent means accepting and supporting children through their choices and the consequences of those choices (good or bad), even if they aren’t choices that you, yourself, would make. I hope that you can come to respect Yaomomo-chan’s decisions about her own future, and find comfort in the fact that I, and everyone else in Class A, will always offer her our full support. Thank you for your time.” Izuku bowed politely before turning to Momo. “Kacchan made dinner. You should come eat it before it gets cold,” he smiled before heading back inside.

 Momo’s mother looked surprised for a second before saying a quick goodbye and hurrying away. Momo smiled after her before whispering under her breath, “You are a marvelous friend, Izuku-kun.”

 (3.)

Hanta was in a rush to get to class. Usually he was pretty punctual, but today he missed his alarm so he wasn’t feeling the best. Anxious and rushed, he accidentally ran into the worst person reasonably possible.

 “Ahah, if it isn’t the plain-faced tape dispenser from Class A!” Monoma laughed, “Late to class, I see! Tsk, tsk, yet another reason Class B is superior! At the very least we’re punctual!”

 Hanta deadpanned at the slate-eyed boy, “You know you’re late too, right?”

 Monoma’s jaw dropped for a second before he regained his composure. He huffed and took another angle, “Well, at least I have a personality! You’re so boring that it’s a wonder anyone pays attention to you at all. You’re almost more invisible than the invisible girl in your class! Not to mention that you’ll probably never get a girlfriend, hah!”

 Hanta rolled his eyes, despite the pang in his heart, before maneuvering himself to speed-walk past Monoma. “I’m literally dating Shou. It’s been the hot gossip for the past few days, and you’re definitely shallow enough to keep up with the gossip mill.”

 Monoma guffawed, “How did a plain-faced peasant like you end up with someone as high class as Todoroki? It’s a wonder, isn’t it? But, of course, I’m sure you’ve been hearing that for the past few days, haven’t you?”

 Hanta knew that he shouldn’t take anything that Monoma says seriously, but he’d been hearing how “unworthy” he was of Shouto for the past few days (since their relationship became public knowledge). The scathing words got to him and it made him doubt himself a little. He sped off towards his classroom, ignoring Monoma’s jeers in the background.

 That day, during a joint training session, Izuku requested to be paired with Monoma...and maybe Izuku went a little harder than he usually did. Maybe Monoma ended up in the infirmary before class ended, but it was training so Izuku couldn’t really be blamed for accidentally injuring his classmate, could he?

 Hanta smiled as he now had an explanation for the flash of green he swore he saw out of the corner of his eye as he was rushing to class after the encounter.

 (+1.) 

Katsuki slapped Deku on the back after training. “What the fuck was that, nerd?! You fucking beat the hell outta the Copycat Freak! Why can’t you ever go that hard when we train?”

 Deku’s face flushed as he turned a blinding smile at Katsuki. Cute. Katsuki shook himself from his thoughts as Deku started talking to him. “I guess I just got really into the exercise, Kacchan!”

 Katsuki could tell that Izuku’s words weren’t the whole truth but he decided to gloss over it for now in favor of focusing on a topic that had been bugging him. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with Mochi Head lately. Skimping on our training. Any specific reason, Deku?”

 Katsuki watched as Deku’s face flushed again, but this time it made a pit grow in his stomach. The pit grew as Deku stumbled over his words for a few minutes before answering, “We’ve just been helping each other study, Kacchan.” 

 “You’re fucking lying, stupid Deku,” Katsuki scoffed as his heart started cracking, tiny pieces falling into the void. “But it’s fucking fine. If you’d rather waste time with your girlfriend like a dumbass then I’ll take the number one spot all the more easily,” he said, but the words felt ashy in his mouth, empty and non-fulfilling.

 He started walking away when there was a sharp tug on his wrist. “Kacchan!” It was Deku. It was always Deku. Katsuki stopped trying to pull away, but he didn’t turn around yet. “I love you! No one else! Ochako-chan has just been helping me work through my feelings for you! She has feelings for someone else!” Katsuki turned sharply to see Deku staring intensely at him. “You are my symbol of victory. My hero. My Kacchan. It’s only ever been you, so please. Please allow me to stand by your side!”

 Katsuki sniffled before completely breaking down in tears from the emotional taxation of the last few minutes. Being the empathetic crier he is, Deku broke down with him and they held each other and sobbed. After a couple more minutes, Katsuki had pulled himself together enough to respond, “Y-yeah, dumb Deku. Keep your eyes on me.”

 Katsuki stood and extended a hand to Izuku to help him up. Izuku stared at him fondly for a split second before taking his offer. They walked back to the dorms side-by-side and hand-in-hand.

[det-loki]

poison & wine pt. one

 “I know everything you don’t want me to.”

warnings: angst, cursing

pairing: detective loki x fem reader

word count: 1,378

A/N: I’ve read and reread what seems like every detective loki fic and I’ve decided it’s my turn. I’m still relatively new with writing series, but I’m very proud of this. Enjoy, feedback is greatly appreciated! (if you find a grammar mistake, let me know)

REWRITE MASTERLIST

⌽  2  3  4  5  6

You hated the rain. It was cold and wet, always sending a bone-chilling cold through you. It reminded you of too many bad memories. Hospitals, pain, and blood. Yet all it seemed to do in Conyers was rain.

You sat across from Loki while you were toying with your fried rice inside of the vacant restaurant. This was yours and Loki’s spot, always seeming to end up here at least once a week for the past five years. You grew to hate the food but it was a constant in yours and Loki’s life and you refused to mess that up. Too many memories have been made in this shitty restaurant, good and bad.

 Neither you nor David cared much for Thanksgiving and you couldn’t be bothered to cook for just the two of you. It was too depressing, so Chinese food it was. The waitress came to your table with the check and hot tea, Loki reaching for the check before you could. Not once has he ever let you pay for a meal. Even when he could barely afford socks. 

“Happy Thanksgiving, detectives.” You wondered if she was waiting on you two to leave for her to go home to relax and celebrate the holiday. You felt bad, considering you and Loki were the only ones there, like usual.

Loki mutters a ‘thanks’ into his coffee cup before continuing, “Do you have any of the fortune-cookie things?”

The waitress looks at Loki with a smirk, “My boss told me cops don’t like fortune cookies.” Classic. 

David looks down at the zodiac placemat, “What year were you born? Are you a dragon, or a snake, a horse, or a sheep?”

“I’m a monkey.” The waitress ogled David who was barely paying attention to her. You knew he would never act on her advances, he was too caught up in whatever the two of you were. Lovers, roommates, co-workers, family. He was everything to you and vice versa. 

Both you and Loki look down to read, Loki responds, “Oh, you’re a monkey. You’re very intelligent. You have the ability to influence people. Think maybe you could influence your boss to lower the check a little bit?” He was flirting. Sometimes you thought that he doesn’t even know he’s doing it. It’s how he charmed you all those years ago. Both of you young and dumb; too young to know any better or any different.

The waitress brings you out of your head, “No, I cannot. My boss is a rooster.”

Again, both you and Loki look down to inspect as the waitress walks away. Selfish and eccentric. Nice, reminds me of Captain O’Malley.

Loki looks at you with a genuine smile before asking, “What’s your zodiac? I forget.” You loved it when he smiled, he didn’t do it enough. You couldn’t really blame him though, neither did you. 

“Well, considering it’s tattooed on your hand, I feel like you should remember. I’m a horse also a cancer, whichever way you want to look at it.” He had gotten the tattoos a month after it.

Loki laughs and looks down again, “Energetic, passionate, and aspirant. I’d say that’s pretty accurate for you.”

You laugh, “Yeah, what’s yours?” You already knew the answer, it was tattooed into your skin years ago along with two other zodiac symbols next to it. Never allowing you to abandon Conyers or David. You were forever tied to it all, inked permanently.

Loki looks at you, his eyes teasing, “I’m gonna give you the same line. Considering it’s tattooed on your collarbone, I feel like you should remember.”

Before you could respond, both yours and Loki’s phones interrupt with a call. Two missing girls, fuck.

The rain is coming down in sheets as you step out of Loki’s car. You pull your raincoat tighter as you follow David to the RV that was called in surrounded by cops at the edge of the woods.

You take your radio out of your pocket, “13-40 and 13-43 engaging with the suspect. Be advised.”

You creep along with Loki towards the RV as the driver revs the engine, tail lights flashing red against you. The RV violently backs up, Loki instructing everyone to not shoot. The driver changes gears, driving forward and slamming into a tree. You advance forward, gun in hand along with a flashlight. Arriving at the door of the RV, Loki takes your flashlight, “Stay here, keep watch.”

Loki entered the vehicle while you and other officers stood by, waiting. The door opens violently, Loki throwing the suspect out. The man stumbles as Loki takes hold of his jacket, dragging him further into the woods. You followed silently, letting David handle him. He never was gentle with cases when children were involved.

Loki yelled at the man with no response, only a blank stare. David shoved him forward, falling at your feet, “What the fuck is this guy on?”

 You take his forearm and haul him to his feet, instructing an officer to take him to the station while David called out for someone to call PSP. This case was already bad. Fear, and pain already settling into your bones. 

You sat in the interrogation room while Loki had the suspect, Alex Jones, backed against a corner. The interrogation had been going on for 2 hours and nothing useful has been said and Loki was getting impatient. You could see it in the way he squinted his eyes and the tension in his shoulders. He needed a break before he exploded.

“Detective, let me try. Take a break.” Loki looks over his shoulder at you, frustrated. He knew you were right but he didn’t want to give up. With a hard sigh, he left the room. Alex visibly relaxed as Loki left.

You had your suspicions about Alex’s cognitive abilities by the way he was speaking, you wouldn’t be able to confirm until the psychologist arrived. Your best bet was to speak as if you were speaking to a child, “Alex, would you like to sit down with me?”

Alex nodded his head, slowly shuffling towards the chair sat across from you. He visibly trembled as he sat down.

“Alex, is it okay with you if I ask you some questions?”

Alex only nodded, “What were you doing today with the RV?”

Alex speaks softly, voice cracking, “Just driving.”

You sigh, “Yeah, I like drives. Was today a special day to drive?” You did not like drives, you preferred not to. David had always been the driver between the two of you. 

Alex shakes his head no. You couldn’t help but feel bad for the boy. He had no idea what was going on, however, you quickly shoved that thought down, he was a suspect in the case of two missing little girls.

“Okay Alex, I’m going to step out for a minute to give you a break, I know this is all different and scary. Let me know if you need anything.” With that, you left the room. You turned towards the interrogation viewing room door where you knew Loki already was watching your questioning.

As soon as you step foot in the room, Loki snaps at you, “What was that? You were too soft, we won’t get anywhere with that.”

You scoff. David was good at his job but he had a habit of going too far, “No, I wasn’t. You scaring him speechless isn’t going to get us anywhere either. Let me do my job the way I need to and I’ll let you do yours.”

Loki knew you were right so instead of protesting, he went to go talk to the forensics team, leaving you alone in the room with your thoughts. This case was going to be bad for the both of you, you already knew that. You needed to keep your head on straight and keep composure, if you didn’t, this case was going to consume and eat you alive. It was bound to happen, your good luck as partners was going to run out one day and you hoped this case wasn’t it. 

You walk back to your desk in hopes to find David when you look outside to see it’s still raining. Stupid fucking rain. 

Taglist: @lexie-wayland  @whew-oh-em-gee​ @winterlavenderskysworld​ @buck-this-nasty @heeyirenee 

[harryswatermelonsegment]

Pool Party

Pairing: Reader/Harry Styles

Rating: R, text book smut

Word Count: 5k 😳

Warnings: Slight sub/dom tones I guess? & alcohol consumption

A/N: Sorry this is late, life somewhat resuming here in the UK so it means I’m back at my job. I managed to fall asleep mid edit folks 😳, this is my entry for the @helladirections Summer Feeling Fic Challenge, with the prompt “pool party” click the link for the masterlist. I’m still writing two more, one for @berrynarrybanana ‘s Sex Bucketlist Challenge but it’s turning out to be a 20k slow burn I wasn’t expecting 😬.Oops. But enjoy this one, I’m proud of her. My one other blatant thirst fic can be found here. Reblogs get free gratitude for the next 5 years 🍉💕

You'd been friends with Jeff since your teens, when his parents (despite their wealth), wanted him to get a job at the restaurant you worked at. In their rightful thinking, they wanted him to learn you had to work from the ground up.

Despite your clearly different class background you found a ton of common interests making the whole thing immaterial. He was a caring, down to earth guy and you were both people who really enjoyed sarcastically taunting each other every shift. You'd got used to visiting his house in the hills even though you'd been scared to get lost at first around his parents large house. Becoming solid friends quickly, you'd managed to keep in touch, as much as adult life would now allow anyway.

You knew his main role was managing a pop star but you'd not caught up in a minute and when you did, you kept your job chat out of the conversation where you could. This is why, as you barge through the kitchen, to the pool outside, you're shocked to nearly knock a stunned Harry Styles onto his behind.

"Fuck, shit I'm so sorry" you clutch your chest looking at the red wine on his tank top and his now empty glass. The soiled garment was tucked into some dressy shorts and partly covered by a loud hawaiian patterned shirt. Oh god what had you done?

You were quite honestly mortified. You'd never actually met the man himself, usually meeting Jeff at his for a few drinks or at a restaurant. You'd heard him mentioned in stories about travelling or how his campaigns were running Jeff into the ground with meetings. So, although you weren't a massive fan of his per se, in the way you didn't ask Jeff for updates or info, the way you'd hope you'd meet the attractive pop star was definitely not this.

He looked down at the offending stain then back up into your eyes, keeping his head angled down and blinking through his lashes. You couldn't read his blank expression and it put you on edge.

Maybe it was the heat trapped in the doorway, but as your eyes stayed locked you suddenly felt a fire spread from your navel up to your cheeks, and then from your center down to your toes. Your lower stomach clenched as you stared back at the guy covered in a good 2007 French rouge.

Fuck me he's pretty, you thought.

A rapid film reel of moments; sweaty bodies, those large biceps holding you against the nearest wall, smacking of lips against skin and moans of release flashed in your brain.

It had definitely been a while since you had got laid in your defense, your mood and pent up sexual frustration getting worse by the day as you tried and failed at the L. A. dating scene. Maybe you were picky, but horny and picky was an awful place to be.

However, the reality of the embarrassing scene you were currently a star of, flipped you back into the present.

Seemingly over the initial incident and hopefully not a mind reader to your thirsty brain, he takes you in and smirks.

Harry knew from the way your breathing hitched looking at his torso that you were at least a bit interested. He had clocked you the second you walked in through the big glass doors. A shirt of a band he liked and a natural beauty he wanted to spend some times with you he pondered. Ideally naked.

Zig zagging across the world promoting the album and had left little time to enjoy another person. Status and obligation to his job making it hard to just go out and meet someone. But here you were, dressed unlike anyone else, looking absolutely adorable in your embarrassment. You must be trustworthy if you're in Jeff's home,he wasn't a "bring your friends too" kind of host with his clients usually around.

This could be a fun evening for you both, he thought. Something unspoken, almost magnetic, drawing you both to one another. Surely that wasn't all his side right?

"I was told it was a good year, but I wasn't planning on consuming it quite this way?" inwardly he rolled his eyes at the barely there quip. But you laughed anyway.

"I am so, so awfully sorry, look, let's see if there's some dish liquid or something, possibly some of my next months rent in there too if I have to replace it" you let out a nervous laugh as you walked towards the kitchen. But in all honesty you weren't kidding.

Harry laughed at your sarcastic remark, impressed by your confidence in owning the situation and getting on with things. He casually watched your hips sway past a few people in to the open plan kitchen with as much subtlety as he could, you were confidentially locating all the parts needed to try and remove the offending stain.

"You seem to know your way around 'ere. I'm er…I'm Harry by the way" awkwardly waving as you mixed some solution in the sink drenching a sponge in it.

"Yeah" you smiled turning from the sink with the damp rag "known Jeff a good while, have definitely spilt red wine here before. I'm Y/N" you giggle. The beam from his own mouth matching.

"Ah! Y/N, of course, I've heard him mention you, didn't you once hide rotting mackerel in a unpleasant guys blazer?" he chuckled

"Heyyyy. Only after he spanked my ass getting him the check. Deserved a hot plate to the crotch too" you shot back.

You weren't sure where to go from here the thought of wetting down the white tank yourself definitely appealed but also seemed far too forward.

"Um…" you began gesturing with the sponge in your hand. You expected him to take it from you to sort himself out but..

"Oh yeah sorry" he replied shimmying his shirt off, dumping it on the back of a bar stool, then, crossing his arms across his stomach and lifting the tank top over his head you were slack jawed and frozen taking in the lean muscles and tattoos littered intermittently across his abdomen. He spread the top across the islands worktop flat, then grabbing the sponge with a simple "thanks" and knitting his eyebrows together in concentration as he tried to rid the dull red mark from it's center.

You still hadn't moved. A pink twinge to your cheeks as you watched his shoulder blades and back muscles scrubbing. Dirty thoughts circling your brain still.

"I would have helped you but I didn't want to start a wet tshirt contest in such a high end establishment yknow?" you thought out loud.

"Oh yeah, good call. I'm fiercely competitive Y/N so would probably be under that fancy waterfall thing by now showing off m'moves in my pants" he wiggles his hips trying to suggestively show you his "moves" but you can't help but smirk at just how endearing this man is. Dammit.

When he's finished with his shirt he drapes it over another barstool before handing you the sponge back.

If anyone asks him if he blatantly and deliberately got naked to gauge if you were into him he'd definitely deny it. But the truth is, he definitely did. Luckily for him, with the way you bite your lip and drag your eyes down his flesh as he brushes past your side to get back to the sink, he's right.

"Speaking of getting in the water in your" you use air quotes "'pants' I'm off to get out of mine" you declare, pushing yourself from the counter and keeping eye contact a second as you stroll back to the sliding doors leading to the pool.

"I… What??"

" The pool Harry?.... What did you think I meant?" you narrow your eyes and press your lips together before shutting the glass door again and turning once more to smirk at the opened mouthed man still by the sink.

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

You'd been schmoozing in the water for a few hours now. There were probably only 20 or so people still here and the 3rd frozen marg had got you buzzed. You were in the small hot tub type pool, attached at the top of the main one on a slightly higher level. You hadn't seen Harry for a while but the last few times you caught his eye he'd been surrounded by at least 3 other people fighting for his attention, so you banked your flirtations to soothe your own ego, grabbed another marg and tried to forget about how he had started a tornado inside you, yearning for his hands on your thighs and head peering up at you from where they met in the middle. The strong pull of lust was clearly in your head then. What a shame.

You put it to the back of your mind as you finished catching up with Glenne. Both flushed and giggly as usual, she was the perfect match for Jeff and their chemistry unmatchable. You always enjoyed hanging out with the both of them, if anything, they gave you hope your own match may be out there. She left you in the tub alone, as she went to grab herself another drink and check on her host duties boyfriend.

"Don't you find drinking whilst already in water the weirdest thing?" you look up to find Harry standing over your right shoulder as you sit with your back against the pool wall and your elbows propping you up behind you, drink in one hand. His eyes unsubtley slip down to where your breasts lay pushed together in your halter neck bikini. You definitely weren't imagining it then. Fucking fantastic, you think.

"I mean drowning yourself on the inside from the alcohol and being in more than 4 inches of water really adds a danger element to my life if I'm honest" you reply sipping your drink.

And there goes those dimples again.

He's just in a pair of yellow swimming shorts now which doesn't help the alcohol flush at all. Sitting by your right side, putting his short glass full of amber liquid and ice, on the side of the pool and sliding in to join you. He leaves a small gap, as to not appear a total letch but your smart mouth has him hooked.

Taking a sip of his drink with the water up to his collar bones he hums.

"I do feel incredibly dangerous now, you've got a point"

"I mean if you think that's danger" you edge closer, not drunk but buzzed enough to take your chances you whisper into the shell of his ear. "You should see what thrills are in the guest bathroom. 1st floor on the right? " he chokes on his drink as your suggestive whispers make his dick twitch. He definitely couldn't get out of the pool for a while.

You're gone before you get a verbal reaction. If this all goes badly then you can just hide in there and slip out to an Uber and never see Jeff again right? Right. Cool.

With a soft white towel around you and your heart rate high as you reach the main guest bedroom you enter the room, you notice a large weekend bag in there and freeze. Shit. Someone's staying over, you hadn't factored that in, but a glance to the tag and the embossed H. E. S tells you you're good. Well, if not you'll just be a creep hiding in someone's bathroom but let's not think about it too much. Your faux confidence was working well so far and what other chance was going to arise like this one? Hot celebrities need fun with strangers too right?

Entering the bathroom you rub the towel over you, leaving mostly dry skin. You'd peel away your bikini if you were definite you wouldn't need to peel it back up your limbs should this plan backfire. You move to the mirror to adjust the black flecks from your minimal makeup dispersing under your eye and just as you're about to smooth down the stray baby hairs that humidity has got to around your face, you see Harry appear in the mirror behind you. Your belly flipping over and over with the thrill he'd took the bait.

Wasting no time he smirks and holds your gaze, wrapping his hands around your waist whilst his lips attach to the junction of your neck and collarbone. His tongue drags over your soft skin and he licks and softly sucks swirls onto it with his plush lips.

"Hm. You're right. This is a more fun type of danger" he says between kisses but before he's even finished his sentence you've spun around in his arms.

The bottom of your spine cold against the marble countertop, arms around his neck as you smash your lips into one another's with urgency. Tongues and wet noises as you get to know one another through your bodies alone.

He runs his hands down your back and presses his hard length against your thigh. He's definitely packing you think as you lift up a little rub your pubic bone against his front, panting out a little moan as the sweet friction of your bodies colliding sends you into overdrive. Catching the noise through your parted lips he gently tugs on the bottom one, teeth grazing the supple flesh. This combined with his large palms kneading your ass and pulling you further, tighter, into the roll of his hips. Only two layers of damp clothing separate you,forcing your lips to break from his mouth and fully moan, not caring who may be around. You could not remember the last time a perfect stranger knew your body quite this well.

His own grunts were speeding up when he suddenly grabs the back of your thighs and hoists you up beside the sink, you gasp in shock but it was more the way the lean man thrusted you up there like it was nothing. What else could he do? You expect him to go back to kissing you but instead he pulls back with his rock hard erection outlined in the wet shorts he still has on. Looking at you dead in the eyes both raging with lust and concern. Whilst you try not to worry how you were going to accommodate him inside your tight walls.

"Is this…? I mean, you want this too right?" his hands are resting at either side of your parted thighs. You nod. "Need you to say it Y/N" he steps forward, lips wet and brushes the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip that was now puffy and pink from the earlier biting. He knew you were down to fuck, but now he wanted to test your preferences. What kind of fun you were about to have shall we say. So when you lick his thumb tip, holding his fist still and grazing your wet tongue up and down from knuckle to tip before closing your eyes and humming around the entire digit, he knew you were both in for a good time.

Removing the thumb he whispers a barely audible "fuck me" before smashing your lips back together, tongues massaging together as he peels your underwear to the side with his hand swiftly and presses digit you'd lubricated with your mouth against your clit, moving it fast from side to side with just the right amount of pressure to make your head spin. Gasping, you throw your head back, hands clasped around his neck as you lean back and feel yourself start to leak a little with arousal. The few spots dripping down on to the counter.

You could say it had been a while but really this guy was moving his way round your body in the same way you tune a guitar in key. Calloused fingers applying the right amount of pressure as you felt yourself start to get to the edge already. He was kissing down the front if your chest, between your breasts, not missing a beat when he pushed both triangles of your bikini aside and you moaned loudly as he kissed and sucked hard around your nipple, tentatively pulling it between his teeth firmly, the sound you let out made him clamp a little harder before sucking in the whole nipple again, soothing the skin his tongue. Most likely leaving a mark behind, but you kind of liked the idea of proof he'd been devouring you in all honesty.

You were becoming blissed out from all the stimulation. Clenching and moving your hips around nothing but this magical thumb working your clit up and down hard. You were overcome with this whole situation playing out the way it had. You broke away from his mouth again.

"Oh fuck.. Harry, I'm… FuckFuck I'm going to come, I'm gonna fucking… Ahhh" he pulled back one arm steadying you as your head hit the mirror behind you in your release. He just watched you and slowed his thumb down watching as the liquid cascaded onto the counter.

After you'd come down you open your eyes and shyly smiled before kissing him passionately, his hands moving around your waist tightly. You moved your hand to his shorts, teasingly grazing the outline of his cock between your fingers in hopes of repaying the favour. He does a single throaty laugh and removes your hand, holding himself against his thigh. You look at him in confusion when he splutters,

"Sorry, sorry its just I'm going t'blow my load if you touch me." then he's back on your lips "Too. Fucking. Sexy" he says between wet kisses to your jaw, neck and clavicle. "Wanted to do this since I first set eyes on you" one hand is on the back of his neck twisting nape curls between your fist whilst the other rests behind you, stopping you from hitting your head on the mirror again.

"Oh yeah? Before or after I ruined your clothes?" you laugh teasingly as he slides his hands around your back to finally remove the bikini top properly, lifting it up over your head and tossing it aside somewhere on the floor. He let's a laugh out himself completely entranced still by how natural you are around him, it was often hard to connect with strangers in his position.

"I'd spotted you walking in, was trying to open the door for you m'love" he says before sucking a red mark into your breast and massaging and pulling the other nipple slightly with his hand.

You struggle through sharp intakes of breath for a reply.

"Well….ah...that's what chivalry.. Oh.. Get's you these days I guess" and you're both laughing a little.

"Hmm. Have to try harder with my manners then won't I? I mean, I've got to clear up the mess I've made here" he cups his hand against your pussy rubbing it up and down a little with his palm. You let out a guttural noise at the friction. "Ladies first and all'tha too right?" he giggles again at himself.

You're practically cumming right then, you couldn't remember the last time someone actually went down on you. Your previous boyfriend not particularly into offering you foreplay. A main point of why he didn't stick around too long.

Harry kisses down your abdomen now, soft sloppy, sensual pecks, humming into your skin every so often in appreciation as he works at removing your soaked bikini bottoms with his hands, pushing them down to your knees before you help, letting them fall from the remaining ankle to the ground.

Harry is moving far too slow for you, kissing across each hip down to the top of your slit, breathing over where you desperately need him before paying the other side the same attention. Then he's licking up each crease where your thigh meets your pelvis.

"Y/N, just.. Just turn, that's it and lean back as far as you can there, shuffle forward until can't balance anymore" you shift your ass as forward as possible on the lip of the sink and prop yourself up on your elbows trying to be as flat as possible on the cold counter as you could, your toes behind the sink with one foot the other dangling over the edge. You keep you thighs open as Harry hunches over the counter where you now lay diagonal. He places his arms under your thighs and bends your legs flat out as he can stretch you, you're expecting some more teasing but he just looks down at your pussy licking over his lips and almost whining before burying his tongue inside you immediately. The force of his tongue lapping up your previous climax causes you once again to knock the side of your head against the mirrored wall. You turn and watch the scene almost as a spectator, witnessing yourself bare to this beautiful man, curly brown hair between your fists and making sounds like he's savouring every taste. He catches you watching before taking his mouth off you, immediately, you're whining in protest.

"Watch my eyes not my reflection baby, I'm right here"

His authoritative tone eclipsing every thought you had about the casual nickname, you stared down at the wonderful site of him lapping and suckling on your clit. Pointed tongue and firm laps against the swollen button. He then starts lapping up at your glistening hole,unhooking an arm to spread your lips open between his fingers and licking right from the bottom to the top with all the sloppy wet noises involved. He was feeling you contract as he locked faster and faster over you. His tongue deserved an award never mind his music. You couldn't believe you were on the brink of a second orgasm so quickly but when he sunk his middle finger into you at the same pace his tongue was working at, you were screaming his name into the extractor fan above before you knew it. You felt waves of liquid cascade from your pussy as he gently lapped up the produce of his work from you. You flinched in overstimulation but he cleaned up every last drop tenderly before carefully closing your legs and pivoting you round to your previous sitting up position on the counter. Neither of you had spoken a word since you came but as he leads your arms to drape over your shoulders, holding your fucked out body against his chest whilst peppering your temple with soft pecks . Then he kisses you intensely, letting you taste the sweet juices of yourself on his lips. You hummed in approval of the sweet taste as you came round.

A few minutes of carnal making out and things were heating up again. Your hands cupping his jaw then sliding to graze fingernails up and down his back, digging them in a little harder now and again and causing goosebumps to pierce through the skin rapidly under your touch.

You could feel him swallowing down grunts from the friction he was getting from his shorts covered cock brushing up and down between your slick folds.

He'd made you cum twice. Hard. He always got off of making his partners cum of course, so he was feeling beyond turned on and the slight heat of your glistening folds against his length was almostvsending him over the edge.

"I want you inside me" you whispered against his lips desperately.

No sooner had you said the words, his left hand was frantically searching through the vanities top drawer in hope. Finding a packet, checking the date quickly then tearing it between his teeth, spitting the seal onto the floor and pushing his shorts to his ankles, stepping out of them at speed before kicking them away.

He smirked when he caught your eyes bulge at his cock. He knew it was above average but the reaction was always a further compliment he thought.

Stepping forward he put on a show of putting the condom on, first rubbing the drops of sticky pre cum at the head and down his length keeping his eyes locked to yours as you wriggled on the counter with anticipation. He whined a little as it squeezed him rolling it on, so red and over sensitive from turning you on. So that's why, when you grabbed for it, he stilled your hand. Dimples appearing back in his cheeks as you looked again in confusion. He kisses you, languishing the moment before grabbing you forward from the countertop to the floor again, still keeping your lips attached. He lightly grips at your hips and turns you round to face the mirror once more.

Harry lightly grabs your throat, and the way you whimper and push your ass back against him, makes him mentally bank that idea for later perhaps. He runs his left hand up the column of your neck lightly holding your jaw between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look at him with his hand on your face and the other already working up and down your folds.

"I want you to watch us. Want you to watch yourself come apart. Want to watch you cum around my cock yeah? " he whispers in your ear. You noticeably shiver with excitement of what's to come.

"Please Harry, please, need it, need you."

You watch yourself babble and beg for his cock. The pathetic whimper from yourself as you try and circle your ass into his crotch again to encourage it happening. You were never patient and he's driving you insane here.

Bringing two fingers infront of your lips as you watch yourself in the mirror he looks you dead in the eye through the reflection.

"Spit" so you do, "good girl" he says kissing your cheek. His saliva lubed fingers are back rubbing your clit quickly whilst his knee nudges the back of yours to spread your feet wider as he kisses the back of your neck and shoulders. When he pauses next you're not expecting the hard thrust of him entering you entirely, sure you were dripping wet with the result of two orgasms but you cry out in a mix of stretch and pleasure as he pounds into you at a furious pace. His spare hand not on your clit is holding the bottom of your spine down as he keeps up his rhythm. His pace was that of a man desperate for release after watching you fall apart on his fingers and tongue. The build up meant he was already close as you tight walls fluttered around him. He pleads with you to stop tightening your walls around him or he's not going to last he whimpers.

You were already close again, you'd never cum this many times or this quickly in your life but you were ready for another round and by the sounds of him and the stutter his pace kept slipping you knew he was close too.

You quickly removed his hand, sucking your own fingers into your mouth to replace his own at your clit.

"M'gonna cum, but… OhOh fuck.. But need you harder. Deeper" you manage to get out.

He grunts a curse before squeezing your hips at a pressure that will leave marks tomorrow but the delight in the speed he was now able to snap his hips against the swells of your ass, was well worth it. It only took a few more seconds with the fingers that knew you best, for you to gush against his cock. Feeling absolutely exhausted you slump your sweaty chest onto the cold counter.

His orgasm taking him by surprise when you clenched up to milk him dry. He all but shouts your name as his hips stutter and you feel the warmth of his cum fill the one barrier between you.

His lips were back on your sweaty neck for a second whilst he disposed of the used condom. He ran the walk in shower and wordlessly you took his offered hand to join him under the hot spray. You'd never had an encounter end like this before not that you were a seasoned professional but after 3 orgasms the way his hands moved round your body under the water, washing away your antics with sweet strawberry-banana smelling suds on the flannel, left you with a warm floaty feeling the worn off alcohol never had.

He gently wipes your makeup from under your eyes then, smiling at the cute way your nose wrinkles slightly as he rubs at each eyebrow.

"I don't even have words" you finally laugh out blushing, not able to stand his gauge as you say it.

"Oh. So that's how to make that smart mouth o'yours stop is it? " he grins, you gasp in mock offense and go to say something but going under your chin with his thumb with his forefinger to connect your lips under the warm water spray he kisses you when you pull away you can't help but ask.

"So does this make us even on one ruined fancy vest then?"

"Hmmmm" he ponders with both hands on your face looking at the ceiling out if the falling water. " I'm not sure, I mean it was a custom, pretty high going rate those yeah"

"Yeahhhh you're right, you're right. Better factor in the cost of the custom job then hadn't I huh?"

You hurriedly sink to your knees on the tiled floor.

[fictionalabyss]

SinfullySlick

Pairing : Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader, Sam (unspecified)

Word count : 1,221

Written for : @spnabobingo​

Square : selling slick.

Warnings : A/B/O dynamics, buying/selling slick, slick as lube, masturbation, oncoming rut, sex toys mentioned.

Masterlist • Patreon • Ko-fi.

SPN A/B/O Bingo Round 5 Masterlist.

“Any packages?” Dean asked as Sam returned from a run into town.

“No. Why, you waiting for something again? What the hell do you keep ordering?”

“Nothing. Shut up. Mind your business.”

“Dean-”

“I’ll check tomorrow.” Dean left the war room and headed off down a hall.

Sam sighed. This has been happening for a few months now. Dean would get antsy about a package coming, and then when he finally got it, he’d disappear and Sam would never find out what it was. He was curious what his brother was getting, wondered if it was some kind of subscription box since it seemed to come pretty regularly. It was obviously something embarrassing that he didn’t want Sam knowing about. Henati? No, Dean didn’t pay for porn. Figures? Where would he even hide them? “Hmm.” he shook his head and headed towards the kitchen with the bags.

“What do you got for me today.” Dean mumbled as he pulled out the key for his PO box and placed it in the lock. “Please please please.. Yes!”  he pulled out the slip that let him know a delivery came. Locking the box, he headed for the counter with a grin.

He handed over the slip, his ID, and waited, fingers drumming on the counter top as the employee headed for the back.

“Here you go.” The small brown box was placed on the counter. “Anything else I do for you?”

“Sweet. No, man, thanks a million. Have a good one.”

“Yeah,  you too.”

Dean tucked his ID back into his wallet, popping it back into his back pocket before scooping up his prize and exiting with a grin. 30 minutes later, he was parked in some overgrown field outside of town. He couldn’t go back to the bunker, not yet.

Licking his lips, reached over and brought the package into his lap. Pulling the pocket knife out of his jacket pocket, he cut through the tape before tossing the knife into the seat beside him for now. Opening the box, he began to gingerly peel back all the protective wrapping that kept the item safe. When he felt the bottle under his fingertips, he held his breath as he pulled it free and held it up to the sun, eyeing it for a moment before he brought it back down and finally, carefully, opened it and took a deep breath.

“Jesus fuck.” he groaned as the scent hit him and had him salivating in seconds. “So fucking good. Always so fucking good.” He was rock hard in his jeans in moments. He wanted to coat himself in it, hell, he wanted to bathe in it. Whoever the hell this girl was, her username was dead fucking on. SinfullySlick, and fuck was her slick sinful.

Licking his lips, he decided to chance it. Maybe he’d be able to sneak past Sam and hit the showers before he could smell a strange Omega’s scent on him. He closed the bottle back up, putting it in the box and putting that aside for a moment so he could get his jeans undone and free himself. Then he opened the bottle, poured a bit of slick into his hand and began to stroke himself.

“Fuck, yes.” his head went back with a groan. Taking a deep breath, he let the scent overtake him and growled. “Omega.”

“Dean-”

“No, Sam. Let’s just get this over with and get back home.” Dean’s rut was coming and Sam had dragged him out on a hunt. He was miserable. He wanted to be back home with his bottle of slick and his toy. Yeah, he had both of them with him, but as always the brothers shared a motel room and he didn’t need Sam knowing he was paying for slick like some loser who can’t get a date.

Sighing, Sam continued down the street walking alongside his brother until a group of women coming their way cut between them. Sam flashed a dimpled smile at one of them, and he got a wink and a giggle in return, making his smile widen. When he came out the other side, it took a minute for him to realize Dean wasn’t at his side anymore. “Dean?” Turning, he saw Dean had stopped and he was staring after the girls. “Look, I know your ruts coming, but that doesn’t mean you can-”

“Hey!” Dean called out, and the group of girls stopped. He had his eyes on one in particular, however. “Do I know you?”

“I don’t think so..”

“You smell.. You smell familiar.” Dean stepped closer and sniffed at the air. “I know you, you’re-”

“Guys, go ahead, I’ll catch up in a sec.” You cut him off. They asked if you were sure and you nodded as you moved closer to Dean.

“You’re SinfullySlick. I’d know that fucking smell anywhere.”

“Sinfully who?” Sam moved closer to you and his brother with a confused look on his face.

“Look, buddy, I don’t know who you are, but-”

“Impala67.” he put his hand to his chest and he felt his heart swell as recognition lit your eyes.

“Oh shit.. You’re like... my best customer..” a soft chuckle escaped your lips on a breath. “I gotta say, with all the money you spend, I did not expect you to be so..” you looked him up and down. “Hot.”

Dean’s smile widened at that, his sour mood from earlier completely gone as he took in how beautiful your smile was, how sweet your voice sounded to his ears. “Yeah, well.. You’re just as beautiful as I imagined.” He almost melted as your smile turned shy. “Where you headed?”

“Uh, bar. Lucky’s. Happy hour starts in about 20 minutes.”

“Want company?”

“I had company.” you teased, motioning to your friends continuing down the street before they disappeared around a corner.

“Want more?”

“Dean, you shouldn’t. You're about to hit your rut, it’s not a good idea.” Sam cut in.

“That’s why you rushed the order? Ruts coming up?” Dean nodded. You gave a soft chuckle. “When?”

“Maybe tomorrow, maybe day after.”

“What a coincidence. Heats due to hit in about two or three days. Probably why you were able to recognize me by scent.”

“Jesus..fuck.” Dean groaned.

“How about we meet up tomorrow night and I give you a fresh batch of slick for your rut. On the house. Nice and warm.”

“I could kiss you.” he groaned.

“I wouldn’t say no to it. Also wouldn’t say no to you coaxing the slick outta me.” you bit your bottom lip and took a step back from him. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, Impala.”

“Dean.” he called out. “My name’s Dean.”

“See you tomorrow night, Dean.” Turning from him, you started towards the bar and your friends, but couldn’t help glancing back at him.

Dean watched you go until you were out of sight and then he let out a sigh. “Okay, maybe I don’t hate you for dragging me out on this one.”

“Wait..” Sam held out his hand. “You buy slick?”

“Mhmm.” Dean nodded.

“From her..”

“Yeah.”

“And now-”

“And now I’m in a good mood, Sammy. That’s all that matters.” He clapped Sam on the chest and started back the way they had been heading. “Let’s get to work. I’ve got a hot date tomorrow.”

*If you like this, please consider supporting my work*

Tagging :  Dean - @akshi8278  @adoptdontshoppets   @evyiione @karikatz12481 @idksupernatural​

SPN -  @sandlee44​  @just-another-busy-fangirl​  @mrswhozeewhatsis​   @deanandsamsbitch​  @deans-baby-momma​  @thebescht​ @67-chevy-baby​ @supraveng​   @musiclovinchic93​ @holyfuckloueh​  @ksgeekgirl​   @hobby27​ @maddiepants​  @roxyspearing​ @onethirstyunicorn​    @fandom-princess-forevermore​     @kalesrebellion​   @deanwanddamons​

All tags - @sorenmarie87​ @artemisthebadger​ @winchesterprincessbride​ @iflostreturntosteverogers​ @akfonkin​ @rebelminxy​ @foxyjwls007​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @shaelyn102​ @supernaturalenchanted​  @kazkingdom​   @babypink224221​  @emoryhemsworth​    @ilovefanfic86​  @pie-with-hunters​   @deanmonandnegansbitch​ @lazinessisalliknow​  @feelmyroarrrr​  @letsdisneythings​   @cdwmtjb8​   @notyourtypicalrose​  @xostephanie​  @marvelmenmusicandroses @ilovedeanspie​ @defenderrosetyler​ @amandamdiehl​

[bjy-on-ao3]

Fic Friday: Hungry Like The Wolf

As usual, you can find the AO3 version of all my uploads [and some things I don’t post here to tumblr] via my Masterlist blog page.)

Bit of a suspension of belief involved in the setup here. I don’t really have a viable reason WHY this would be happening here, but it felt like the best place for this particular concept, so bear with me. Title is after the Duran, Duran song, because the lyrics seemed fitting on the surface, and the name ends being kind of punny.

(Also a thank you to Petaldances for basically beta'ing this for me and catching all my weird little mistakes.)

Summary Reader gets caught up in a passionate and primal game with a certain detective turned Phantom Thief.

Tags/Warnings

Biting, Creampie, Metaverse, Metaverse S*x, Outdoor S*x, Persona 5 Strikers Spoilers, Predator/Prey, Reader-Insert, Rough S*x, Shameless Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal S*x

Hungry Like The Wolf (F! Reader/Zenkichi Hasegawa)

You couldn’t count how long it had been since you started running. Had it been a minute? Five? Fifteen? You weren’t sure. Time was the last thing on your mind as you bolted down the empty streets. All that was on your mind was to run as far and fast as you could. All you had to go on was the burning in your legs and chest and the swiftly passing city blocks.

You stopped, spinning in place so quickly it nearly made you dizzy, and you stumbled, catching yourself before you toppled over.  Your eyes darted about wildly, heart pounding in your chest and your breath coming in out in short, panting puffs. Even if you didn’t know how long you had run for, you had to have at least gained a good deal of headway, right? There was no sign of anyone or anything around you, save for the eerie atmosphere of the metaverse itself. No people, no shadows, no nothing, simply you and the silence of a false city. Though still you felt unsettled, ever sense wired and on alert, waiting for when the silence would shatter into a million fragile pieces.

It was the sound of boot heels scuffing the pavement that broke the silence and set you off again, bolting off down the route you thought best with a quick glance. Yet the sound of boots didn’t die away, as it had when you had first ran, no matter how hard you pushed yourself. No, it echoed in your ears, growing louder and clearer even, and you willed yourself to run faster, lest the game come to an abrupt end. But even with the added talents that came with the strange world of cognition, you could only run so fast and so far before you were caught. Your last choice was to hide, even if it there was no true escape. The thought of capture made your heart drum a somehow heavier rhythm, and wracked your body with pins and needles of adrenaline.

Even if hiding was likely to be a fruitless effort in the end, you had to try. You couldn’t give up without exhausting every avenue available to you and using every bit of your wits. You had no other choice either, not when the sound of your tail was so hot in pursuit, and steadily gaining no matter how much ground you covered. At this rate, it would be only a couple minutes, if you were lucky, before your pursuer caught up with you.

You veered sharply, ducking and weaving past cars and light posts and distorted obstacles otherwise out of place in a typical cityscape. With one final burst of speed, you sprinted through a narrow alley and past the corners of several buildings. Finally, you spied a small alcove amongst one of the building exteriors, and hurriedly tucked yourself into it and the shadows it provided. You flattened yourself back against the bricks, trying to blend in with the darkness. You covered your mouth and nose with one gloved hand to suppress the ragged breaths spilling from your lips, and cast your gaze warily out on the cognitive city.

For an instant, all was still, though the sounds that alerted you to your pursuer’s presence were evident nearby even then. Your breath stalled in your throat as you watched him come into sight, slowing from a run to a cautious walk. Clad from head to toe in black leather and silver trim and metal, he cut an imposing figure. Your eyes lingered over the various weapons strapped and holstered on his person, adding a greater air of menace, before turning your attention to his masked face. Even with the mask, you could tell he was watching keenly, searching for even the tiniest sign of where you had gone. You thought your heart might erupt from your chest when he looked straight at you, or rather straight at your hiding place. You didn’t dare make a sound, didn’t dare breathe, didn’t dare even blink, lest he find you somehow.

But he looked away, and you could breathe again, still trying to stifle it against your palm. You couldn’t make yourself move a muscle yet, though. Not until he broke into a jog again, and then a sprint, heading down the block. You waited in your hiding spot a while longer, wanting to be positive he was far gone enough that you could no longer hear him anywhere nearby. Finally, you withdrew from your cover, eyes wide as if if it would help you peer more easily through the dusky light. Your heart raged in your chest, unwilling to calm down, and your mouth was dry, your body hot and tingly and jittery all over.

You swept the area once, twice, three times, and nothing met your eyes. Nor did anything alert your ears. A light fog was settling over the area, making it hard to see very far away. Though the same fog would likely impair his sight, too. Staying on edge, you went about getting your bearings to head back to your rendezvous point. Your thought processes were abruptly interrupted, however, by the sudden gnawing sense you weren’t alone anymore. The hair on the back of your neck and arms stood on end, and you whirled in place once more, coming face-to-face, or mask-to-mask, rather, with the man clad in archaic black leather and metal.

Instinctively, you tried to make a break for it. But he seemed to have been expecting that, and before you could dart away again, resuming the chase, his arms lashed out. He caught you half-turned, looping his arms around your midsection and pulling you fast against you. You squirmed and struggled for a moment against the tight embrace, gloved fingers digging roughly but uselessly into the leather of his clothes and failing to accomplish much. His strength suppressed yours, and his hold was a vice you couldn’t pry apart. All your effort gained you was knocking off the wide-brimmed hat topping his head. You stopped, deciding to save your energy, eyeing the man with full attention.

“You know, you’re a lot faster than you look.” His voice was smooth and level, as if he hadn’t been pelting after you in hot pursuit for god knows how long. “But being fast isn’t enough,” he informed you, releasing part of his hold to reach up and pull down the sharply angled mask hiding his face. Mischief and satisfaction gleamed in the dark eyes behind it.

The cocky tone in his voice reinvigorated your will to escape, out of sheer stubbornness or a second wind, you weren’t sure. You punished against his grasp again suddenly, weakened now that he held onto you with only one arm. His mask slipped through his fingers and tumbled to the ground when you tried to take advantage of the perceived moment of overconfidence. But his hand snapped out in a flash, and the arm still wrapped around you squeezed tighter. His fingers curled back to grasp the base of your skull, catching in your hair. Between the strengthened coil of his arm and the new grip above your neck, your chances of breaking free became even more abysmal in an instant.

“It’d be enough for someone who doesn’t know me, Wolf,” you argued. Your words sounded irritable and casual, though the thundering pulse in your ears threatened to block out your voice.

“Shame for you I do then, huh?” Wolf - or Zenkichi, as you knew outside the confines of the metaverse - sounded very pleased with himself.

Between the smooth sound of his voice and how close you were caught against him, the tingling feeling of adrenaline that had rolled through you before during the chase had morphed into something stronger, though just as primal. Ravenous and hot, it let you tense and burning up, waiting to see what would happen next.

He didn’t give you time to retort to his quip, spinning around with you still held tight in his grasp. He leapt forward, and the world lurched and shifted, until you felt the familiar scrape and snag of rugged stone catching your clothes. You were breathless as Zenkichi leaned in, releasing you from his embrace in favor of caging you in against the building wall with his body. A sidelong glance revealed you were back in the alcove you had hidden in before. Looking to Zenkichi, wearing a grin that was equal parts knowing and cheeky, told you he had been well aware of your hiding spot. He had known where you were as soon as he looked straight toward you.Failing to notice you had been only a pretense to lure you into letting down your guard. You had walked right into his hands.

But there was little time to dwell on your mistakes; the hunt had come to a close, and it was time for the hunter to indulge in his prey. Zenkichi reminded you of that clearly as he bent down with his fingers remaining snared in your hair, using his grip to coax your head back. He left a trail of fervent kisses and sharp nips along your throat, left bare by your outfit. Beaten in your game, you gave in, leaning back against the brick, letting him pin your body there. And arching into the fiery touch of his lips. He said nothing, but as his lips skated over your pulse, hammering in your throat, you felt his lips quirk. A satisfied smile that was forgotten about as quickly as it had come as he continued to ravage your neck.

It wasn’t long before the assault on your skin turned you into a mewling mess pushed against the stone, plaint and hot under his lips. There was a fervor fueling the press of his lips, the stroke of his tongue, the pinch of his teeth. The same fervor burning in you as well, roaring through you and boiling your blood. The unyielding buckles of his several belts were hard and unpleasant, pressing into you so forcefully, but another hardness stood out as well, one far more pleasant and enticing.

Your hips twitched reflexively against his when a well-placed bit made you moan openly into the empty air. A hiss slipped through Zenkichi’s lips, and his actions paused for an instant, before renewing with a vigor. The new effort made you cry out all over again. But he was only satisfied with the small tastes of kisses and bites for so long. He was hungry for so much more, and you were all too pleased to surrender and let him devour you.

The world whirled again, and your eyes shot wide with surprise for a second, before Zenkichi’s hand between your shoulders pressed you forward, back against the wall, pinning you place once more. Your cheek and chest met the stone, your mask shielding you from some of the scrape of the bricks, and you stilled again. A shudder of anticipation rolled through you at the slow creep of his hand lower, and lower, tracing over the curve of your back and the swell of your ass. The wandering hand moved back up, joining its twin and curling beneath the waist of your pants, and tugging them down swiftly.

Your own hands, now lying flat against the bricks, dug at the rough service when his hands inched back up, one stopping to roughly knead a handful of your ass, while the other cupped your center through damp panties. Two leather-clad fingers hooked beneath the fabric, pushing it aside before disappearing past it and between your lips, searching. They found their quarry smoothly enough, sinking into your hole to the knuckles, before pumping in and out. A whine a murmured ‘ fuck ’ burst from you, and you clung to the wall tighter, desperate for something the latch onto, even if the abrasive surface made your fingertips sting.

The finger-fucking didn’t last very long though, enough to make you needy and tense, and when he withdrew his fingers from your slick cunt you managed to turn your gaze back and peek at him. You swallowed hard and your pussy throbbed when th sight of him putting two fingers to his lips met your eyes, the material glistening with your wetness. He cleaned each finger quickly, at the same time seeming to relish the taste of you on the leather.

His glance met yours, pupils dilated so wide you could barely made out the color beyond them, hunger and ardor boring into you. It was a wild and intense expression, borne from the cocktail of lust and adrenaline the lust had filled you bow with; one you hadn’t seen before on Zekichi’s face. But it wasn’t frightful, save for perhaps how much it ignited your own desire. Unabled to hold his gaze any longer, you turned back to eye the bricks, another shiver wracking you.

The crunch of leather and the clink of metal behind you made you even more taut with excitement, and you squeezed your thighs together to quiet the demanding ache between them as you waited. The mood was running too hot - searing you both - for you to need to wait very long, though. Even that brief wait felt like far too much, far too long long in your heated mind and surely in his.

You nearly groaned in relief as the thick head of his cock pushed through your soaked lips, and you weren’t sure how you resisted the urge to slam your hips back and impale yourself on his length. Greedy hands latched onto your hips, fingertips digging hard into your skin with each new inch that entered you. A sharp inhale and a heady, feral groan drew your attention, but you didn’t dare capture that primal gaze again, not when you were already so on edge. You might explode from the sheer desire coursing through you if you chanced it.

Hallways inside, Zenkichi threw any shred of remaining patience to the wind, rolling his hips forward and sheathing himself the rest of the way inside, jostling you against the wall. You ignored the jolt and the burn in your fingertips, clinging to the bricks as if they were your lifeline. The only thing on your mind was the length of him buried hard and deep inside, the fullness complemented by a hot ache. He leaned forward, his body pushing more flush against yours, pressing his lips back to your neck.

Words ghosts over your skin, muffled, and when they reached you, they were gravelly and breathless, but shaky. “Didn’t think you’d be so into this.” The words were quiet, almost as if he were speaking to himself rather than you. “Fuck, didn’t think I’d be so into this.” The rest came as an afterthought, punctuated by a growling moan.

You couldn’t bring yourself to refute his words, even silently, nor did you want to. Your moans half-stifled by the bricks were enough on their own, not even considering your inability to think about much else other than his dick driving in and out of you.

His hips rocked harder, faster, and his breath grew heavier, broken when he pressed more sloppy bites and kisses to your skin. Some were careless enough that might have caused you to wince, had you been in a less aroused state of mind. As it was, each new sensation, whether painful or enjoyable, blended together into a swirling ball of desire and heat that made you more lost with each one. The desperate rut of him against you, the tight grip on your hips sure to leave a few finger-shaped marks, and the smothering heat of his body, contrasting with the cool, rough stone in places where your bare skin touched it. It was all pushing you faster and faster towards the peak and threatening to shove you over.

Beyond the pair of you, the world stayed silent and still, shattered by the myriad of shamelessly obscene sounds pouring from your mouth and Zenkichi’s. The rustle of leather joined the sound of skin slapping together rhythmically and the gasp of panting breath. He was saying something in your ear, something you couldn’t quite make out, unsure whether it was a curse or praise or complete gibberish. You cried out his name, or rather, the name you were supposed to call him then, ‘ Wolf’. The word rolled so easily off your tongue, again and again, like some strange prayer.

Everything was adding up, your breathing shorter and more ragged, and you couldn’t keep yourself from grinding back into every hard thrust. A sharp, unexpected slap on your ass made you hiss between your teeth, but otherwise just encouraged you to buck back into him with more enthusiasm. Your belly and the muscles in your thighs felt so achingly tense, and your legs quivered beneath you. You found yourself fleetingly thankful the weight of his body held you to the wall. The thought was swept away though as the sensations peaked, and you weren’t sure if you could it much longer.

In a single, smooth motion, Zenkichi wrapped one arm around your waist, his fingertips skimming over your skin until the gloved digits found your clit, rubbing quick, tight circles. It was the final puzzle piece you needed to come undone, nearly screaming your satisfaction to the empty block. Zenkichi cursed into your shoulder, your cunt intent on enticing him to spill himself inside of you and join you in ecstasy. By the pitch of his hot breath, and the several following crass words, he was having a hard time resisting it.

His fingers stroked you through your orgasm, the waves of bliss ebbing into oversensitive pulses that made you squirm and try not to thrash your head against the stone, whimpering. His hands stiffened and stilled with his hips as he finished, a few last thrusts pumping you so full of cum that when he stopped moving, a warmth trickled down one of your inner thighs.

You whined when he moved to pull back, unsure if you were protesting his withdrawal or how it made you shudder with lingering oversensitivty. Zenkichi rested a hand on your shoulder after pulling out, and you felt his breath washing over your skin, making goosebumps rise on it all over again. You were loathe to move and shattered the serene, exhausted moment, and the pleasant haze that accompanied it. But there was a time to bask and relax, and you could do that later, once you had taken your leave from the metaverse.

Zenkichi stepped back, and you heard him redoing his belts and adjusting and smoothing his own outfit. You turned to face him, slowly, leaning against the wall and holding onto the bricks to ensure you stayed on your feet. You realized your mask was crooked, half on, half off of your face, surely thanks to the position you had been in.

When he looked up from tucking himself away and sorting out his clothes, Zenkichi’s face twisted into an expression of concern, a hint of guilt tinging the look. You matched the expression with one of confusion, unsure what was its cause. “What’s that look for? What’s wrong?” you asked worriedly, though it came out tired and soft. You glanced all around you, unable to discern what had made him so concerned.

“Shit, can’t you feel it. Your cheek.. and your hands.” he began, and you lifted one hand, palm up to see what was trying to get across.

Looking at your palm, you realized what had caused his distress. The stone had taken more of a toll on your hands than you had noticed in the moment. You winced, out of reflex rather than real pain, the high of your orgasm still faintly lingering and dulling your own concerns. They were going to hurt tomorrow though, you were sure of that. Reaching up to your face gingerly, you found it was similarly scraped and scuffed, though only on the side your mask had been askew.

“Ah, it’s fine, it’ll heal.. and it was totally worth it,” you dismissed, trying to dissuade the guilt mixed with the concern.

“Are you sure I didn-”

“I promise, I’m alright,” you interrupted him before he could fuss any more. You had wanted your little game as much as him, maybe more, and you weren’t going to let either of you regret it over a few scrapes and bruises.

“We should get out here though,” you noted, at least fixing your own clothes. “That was fun, but we probably shouldn’t stick around.”

[ameliyaahn3]

13 days series : Day One, 20th December.

Genre : Fluff, Comfort, (lame ass one) Humor.

Warning : Things get heated up at end but nothing shocking.

Word count : Around 1k800.

Summary : Akashi bringing his empress to his chalet for christmas holidays but it's also his birthday. What will Y/n prepare for him ?

Akashi Seijuro × Reader.

Even then, you weren't used of that life of luxury and comfort with Seijuro : whatever you would salivate for, he was capable to give it to you twice or in a matter of a minute -if that's not even too much-: what was for sure something you can't even dream of in your wildest fantasty. And as the wealthy man he is, once again Seijuro impressed you by bringing you on vaccation at his family chalet.

Snow was surronding the beautiful and big place when you stepped outside the car, a warm and refined hand holding your fingers at the same time. You turn your head to see your boyfriend smiling what does make you instantly excited as his eyes are slightly shining at your view. Your blood going trough your veins so fast, you can't help but wait to drag Seijuro into the house and listening to whatever he has to say about it.

You know his chalet to be somewhere he would at least visit once a year and as a place full of funny and innocent chilhood memories that conted by him would just sound so interesting. As the cold started to hit a little bit too harshly on your faces, Seijuro finally decided to guide you to the traditional house, maids and butlers behind with your baggages.

" Pleased, my love ?" You nodded positively, a grin forming on your lips, " How I could not ?" the majestous tree were absorbing your soul.

"I know that you're not always comfortable with my wealth and all thoses prestigious places but I hope this time you won't feel any discomfort being here." The way he talks so smoothely drives you naturally to look at his charming face, what do distract your attention from the unique landscape. However do you regret it ? Not even one second.

" I can't be bothered by a place that is like home for you." You said, your stomach feeling like there butterflies in it despite it does make 9 months you're together. Sensations conservating pretty good like an old bottle of wine, it's really something to be in couple with this man.

" I wish you would think of my gifts as the furnitures then." You chukle a little bit at his come-back, not bad actually but how could you not feel weird when he's offering you expensive jewerly and dates on the only motive that you're his lover ?

" Sei..."

" Because I can't imagine a world that I would truly enjoy without you, you deserve the best, Y/n. Though I've fallen for your independance, since we're one, everything mine is yours, you should not being ashamed of anything."

Seeing you opening your mouth to try to justifiate your attitude, Akashi shut it with his own, deposing a small peck on your lips that destroyed all trace of a logic and inteligent answer in your mind.

What a drag... How would you return him all he give to you the same ? Nothing that you can buy can value even the smallest thing that he had already offrered you, but it was his birthday tomorrow and except of your present you couldn't think of something appropriate to express your love to him.

" Shht, my dear. You know I'm right." He says with a smirk.

Besides making you feel like the first days, Seijuro know also how to make you pout like a child despite that you're supposed to be decently mature.

" That's not fair..."

────────── ·  ·  ·  · ✦

In front of the chimney, you observe the fire dancing, your head lies on Akashi shoulder's as he's taking a pause on his book and that a cup of hot chocolate is between your hands. It was for sure one of the most relaxing moment you ever had in the past 6 months, forgetting about school, work or whatever were drowning you down in general it was inexistant here.

" That table... I used to play on it a lot with my mother."

" What kind of games ?"

Akashi smile when he hear sincere interest in your voice, not surprised of your curiosity when it involve him even for the silliest subjects. It was one of the reason you were with him afterall and not another person.

" Cards games mostly and even if I was a child, I don't remember having similar struggles winning against my mother than anybody else till now."

" So she was an high level player ?"

" Surprisingly not and she would admit herself that she was even quite unlucky, I used to not understand why I had so much difficulties with her but now it's pretty clear that I was inconsciously doing of sort to play with her more."

" It's adorable but insulting at the same time, i don't know how I would take it if I was in her position. You didn't do this with me right ?"

"..."

His laugh makes you felt like death has suddenly taken your body and your diginity with it.

"Maybe you can try to found out yourself ?" He put his book aside, amused by the situation.

" I've never felt so insulted in my life... Seijuro affront me right now, one one." Determined by your pride you still kept your calm and called him more in a playful tone than anything else.

" You won't be mad at me when you will find out how I play with you Y/n?"

" I can't promise that... i've been believing that I was good at shogi during more than a year!"

" And you're good."

" But how do I know for real now ?"

"Alright, alright... let's play then. Even if you finish to be angry at me that wouldn't last long."

" Wha-? You know that you're irresistible and you makes benefit of it on me ?! That's vicious... and I love it against my own agreement. How do you do ? That's disgusting."

" You're doing this to me everyday, Y/n."

" No i don't..?"

" You definitely do."

You don't even bother to pursuing that thing and sit in front of the said table with cards that you found around. Today was the day of truth.

 ────────── ·  ·  ·  · ✦

After losing 13 rounds in a row you didn't bother to test Akashi again and let him with his undefeated title. But most importantly, while playing against him you didn't saw something that would say he was holding back on purpose, what surprised you and comforted you a little bit on your own skills.

After that, you decided to take an hot bath and you had a sumptuous diner which by the way makes you felt really heavy. Filled Up and clean, there was nothing that you would need in the moment and so time went by and at the end you wanted to sleep. The Emperor led you to your shared room and before letting your body enjoy a restful night, you took initiative of a cuddle session. Making soft contact with Akashi's skin, your fingers doing small circles on his palm hand and forearm.

As sleep is slowly taking you away, your boyfriend whispers lovely words in your right ear and stroke your back, plunging you into another world : Watching the snow failling gently in the window with the elegant lights of the room while being under thoses pretty sheets with Akashi Seijuro beside... Everything looked like a dream. You took a look in the direction of your hidden gift, thinking of how you would make it memorable and your eyes closed despite a sudden excitation and vague of ideas that poped in your head last minute.

During the whole night, it was like your soul aspired to wake up early and so you slept easily but as if you're body is schedulded, first hour in the morning, 5:45 am you were awake and as you were quiting bed stupid flash of the game yesterday evening came to your head making you thinking that Akashi pitiyied you because of small action in his game, you pipe that idea away and focus on your tasks.

First step was the more difficult one but you managed to get out the bed without being noticed. You wanted to make breakfast for him but also as he would wake up, wish him an happy birthday quite special with his present in your hands.

Maids bringed the bouquet of roses you requested and helped you cooking food. You had so much plans for his birthday... If you remember well, there was that Power Point waiting in your draft explaining how perfect he is and why he should be happy, healthy and live so much years more. But you didn't carry on that idea as that wasn't amazing enough and that in fact that would be just you acting as a fangirl of your boyfriend during an hour at least.

You watch at the time, knowing that your lover used to being awake around 6:30-7:00 also on weekends while during winter even the sun doesn't rise that early.

You walk into the room, taking your gift quickely and in silence, posing the plate of breakfast that you tried your best to please him with. Well, you look at him to see that he's sligthly waking up, a smile grows on your lips.

Once you see one of those red orbs open, you heart skips a beat, Akashi sit on his bed a genuine smile as he see you.

" Good morning, Y/n."

and you can't help but kiss him.

" Happy birthday Seijuro!"

As you crash your lips in a sweet and chaste manner yet still filled with an unquestionable passion, you give him roses and put on evidence the breakfast. The smell of roses mixed with delicious plates increasing Akashi joy even if he doesn't show it in an obvious way.

" You didn't have to do this, Y/n... But it makes me really happy, Thank you."

" Do not thank me yet..! I haven't given you everything and you deserve the best."

You lay on his hand the package, letting him being curious to what is it. After taking a glance at you, he decide to open your gift and see an antique but expensive -for someone of your class- watch with his and your initials, because the clock is foldable when you unclip it, you can see a picture of his mother that you've put.

Akashi seemed quite touched and took your hand in his, a soft and nostalgic expression on his face.

" I obvisouly can't offer you one of the newer and expensive jewerly but I was sure that this one would be at your liking."

Emotional value combined with an utilitarian purpose, not to mention the style.

" And it is, you did well Y/n. It's until now the most valuable item I have in my possesion... I will cherish your present."

" And I will cherish you... Doesn't it sounded like a weeding vows ? Haha... However I will cherish you for real and in all the way possible so even if I can't give you as much as you do in terms of material... My affection would value at least as much if it's not even a lot more."

You said that while coming closer to him, eyes full of desire and of need to proove your love. Akashi put all thoses object you bring in bed on the nearest table as a more lewd expression took place on his face.

" Convince me."

And you were already under him.

" Maybe this one would be my favorite birthday."

[corvus--rex]

Another one that's not truly abandoned, working title Code Violet. Post s.8 Omegaverse, Klance slowburn. Omega Lance has been put on medical leave by the Garrison after the war because of his PTSD, which really just translates to secondary sexism as he's the only Omega among the Paladins. But then Keith goes missing on a Blades mission and Shiro calls the team back together.

~*~*~

He could deal with torture. At least, that’s what Keith told himself, having never been through it personally. But he did know how to deal with pain. A result of too many fights and questionable decisions in his life. But the sensation that overwhelmed his senses wasn’t pain. Or maybe it was. He didn’t know precisely. All he knew at that moment was that he could actively feel every last one of his nerves. He could feel the normal everyday functioning of his body mixed with a racing heartbeat and hyperventilating lungs. And yet he felt oddly detached from it. It felt as though his Alpha was protecting his mind like a mother wolf with her threatened pup. It was a very strange sensation. It felt like it went on forever. He felt something in his body shift. Something new and wholly unfamiliar. And then the pain actually hit. It crept in slowly, radiating from his core until the blooming white-hot flames licked their way through all of his nerve endings. He might have screamed, but he could never be sure. And when the searing pain left, it didn’t go quickly. It smoldered like the embers of a bonfire, burning low in that deceptive way that made it unclear as to whether or not the charred remains were still alight. But Keith could feel it, the low, steady flame that curled its way through his fingertips and all the way to his toes. Neither mind nor body relaxed until the cool touch of unconsciousness wrapped him in its embrace. He was blissfully unaware of being lifted, carried, and finally left in a dark cell while his captors waited for him to wake.

~~*~~ 5 Movements (7 Weeks) Later ~~*~~

Lance was startled awake by his comm screaming for his attention on his nightstand. No one he knew would call at half past five in the morning. All the official evaluations he’d undergone concluded that yes, he had PTSD just like the rest of Team Voltron and everyone else who’d fought in the war, but that with his weekly therapy sessions, he was handling it well enough for active duty. He had the unpleasant suspicion that it had something to do with him being the only Omega on Team Voltron. It didn’t seem to matter, however, as he was kept on medical leave.

When he was woken at the barest hint of dawn’s asscrack, squinting at his comm’s screen, he was shocked to see Shiro on the other end of the call. He fumbled for the button, accidentally dropping the device on himself. He figured he must have hit it somewhere in his sleep and adrenalin-fueled struggle when Shiro’s sleep-deprived face popped up in the holographic projection.

“Shiro? What? What is it? What’s going on?” Lance asked, voice low and rough, his mind not yet fully engaged.

“How soon can you get to the Garrison?” Shiro answered, sounding more awake than he looked.

“Um, probably about an hour. Why? What’s happening?”

The face of the Atlas’ captain darkened. “Keith’s gone missing. He was supposed to check in one movement ago, no one’s heard from him and they can’t trace his comm. It’s the second one he’s missed. Acxa and Kolivan are here requesting a team from the Coalition.”

Lance was awake. He knew Keith was away on another mission, he’d heard it directly from the man himself. He knew Keith would be out of reach for a while. He knew he wouldn’t know if Keith was ok until the mission was over. But he also knew that Keith was expected to keep to the check-in schedule, sending a scrambled message to a secure communications outpost that would then be sent on to Acxa, who was leading the Blades for the duration of the mission. It was almost overly complicated, but the mission was one that required careful stealth. It was the only thing Keith had been allowed to say about it before disappearing for what was supposed to be an extended 3 phoeb mission.

Acxa made sure to keep Team Voltron informed when it came to the check-in schedule, letting them know that Keith was ok. He had made the first three check-ins, even if the team was kept in the dark as to the messages’ contents. Acxa knew that there was a possibility that he could miss a check-in, but as long as his comm was active and could still be traced, she would know that the mission was still going. If he missed more than one check-in, it would raise alarms. Shiro said that he’d missed one a movement ago, which meant that he should have checked in again and hadn’t. If Shiro was calling to say that Keith had missed the check-in, and not that the mission was confirmed to have gone wrong, well, Lance didn’t quite know what it meant, but it wasn’t going to stop him from finding out.

“I’ll be right there,” he said, fully awake and already half-dressed.

Shiro nodded and cut the call.

Forty-five minutes later, Lance was walking into the conference room. He was surprised to see that he was the first one there save for Shiro. Lance was the only one of the team who wasn’t either assigned to the Atlas or stationed at the Garrison. Given his leave status, he’d decided to stay home with his family. The Garrison knew where to find him if they wanted to.

Taking a seat in the middle of the table, Lance leaned forward, resting his arms on the metal surface. “Who else is coming to this?” he asked.

“Adam, Pidge, and Hunk, Acxa is bringing Kolivan, and against my wishes, the MFEs will be here as well. They don’t have the security clearance our team has. They were involved on the front lines, but they’re not us. And they know even less about the Blades. But Iverson ordered it, so they’re coming.”

“Kinda surprised I still have the clearance,” he muttered, even though he knew Shiro would hear him anyway.

“And you know that if I had any real say, you’d be on the Atlas with us. You’re an outstanding pilot, the best at small team tactics I’ve ever seen, and I know no one can iron sight a target like you can. We wouldn’t have made it through several of our missions with Voltron if it hadn’t been for you. I don’t know if you realize it, but we never would have won the war without you.”

Lance looked up at that. Shiro was watching him, the Alpha’s expression one of pride and affection. “How’s that? We did it as a team. I wasn’t any more or less important than anyone else.”

Shiro shook his head. “Not at the end. You’re right about that. It was a team effort. I meant before that. Back when we rescued Slav. We only had one chance at getting him out, and we almost didn’t. If you hadn’t made that shot, we never would have succeeded that day, and – as much as I hate to admit it – Slav’s input and genius went a very long way in helping us win. Without you, none of it would have happened.”

Shock and realization flashed across the Omega’s face. “I – I never thought about it like that. I just did what I had to. We needed him, and I just did it. I never put it together like that.” He stumbled through his words, understanding the weight of what he’d done hitting him. He started at Shiro’s hand on his shoulder.

“I hadn’t either until recently. But that wasn’t a conversation to be had over a call. And I want you to know from me that I have been fighting Administration over your forced medical leave. It isn’t Iverson who’s sidelining you, it’s the heads of the Medical Division. They’re the only ones who can overrule him. Your evaluations confirm what we already know – that you're fit for active duty. The shrinks know it, we know it, even Iverson knows it. I don’t know why the med admins won’t clear you, but I have an idea, and their thought process is wrong. Being an Omega has nothing to do with your capability as a Garrison officer. We will get this sorted out.”

Lance stood up in a rush, nearly knocking the chair over, and crushed his pack Alpha in a tight hug. “Thanks, Shiro,” he mumbled into the Alpha’s shoulder.

“Anytime. I mean it. You’re more than just your service record. You are still, and always will be, part of the pack. Part of our pack. You do know that, right?”

Lance huffed a laugh into Shiro’s shoulder. “That’s about the only part I haven’t questioned. I – I miss him, Shiro. I just want to get him back safe.”

Shiro pulled back, holding onto Lance’s shoulders. “We will. We’re not giving up, not even if I have to go after him myself.”

The door gave a soft hiss as it slid open and closed. Lance and Shiro snapped to see who was there.

“We interrupt something?” Pidge asked, Hunk standing beside her.

“Lance! You made it! Oh, man, I am so happy to see you!” Hunk practically yelled, rushing in to wrap his old friend in a crushing hug.

“Yeah, I made it. I'm happy to see you too, Hunk,” Lance said far more softly and returning the enthusiastic hug.

~*~*~*~

Links to the rest of the series:

1 | 2 | 3* | 4 | 5* | 6* | 7 | 8 | 9* | 10 | 11 | 12* | 13 | 14 | 15* | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19*

[iamdunn]

Miraculous Flash Forward part 7: The Reunion

A Miraculous Fan-Fic

Written By

AJ Dunn

The festivities were meant to begin around noon and carry on late into the night. Finishing up with the Super Hero team’s arrival and hanging out. Adrien dressed quickly, hoping that his outfit, while casual, wasn't too casual for Felix’s liking. He was wearing blue jeans, a long-sleeve black shirt, and a light blue short sleeve, button-down hooded shirt. The hood was his new trademark style and he couldn’t go without it. Although he hoped it wasn’t going to be too hot for the long sleeves. He had a few bruises fro m sparring in his father’s atrium and broke a few of his prized statuettes. It was a good way to alleviate some of the frustration, hurt, and anger he had allowed to steep in him all these years. The world didn’t need to see that side of Adrien.

He made his way downstairs to his coup and pulled it out of the garage. His phone rang through to the car stereo as Adrien clicked a button to answer it. 

“There is a tent set up at the back of the Place De Vosges park behind the stage, meet me there,” Felix ordered. “I’ll announce you at exactly 12 noon.” 

“On my way,” Adrien said. It only took a few minutes to drive there, and he had a good 30 minutes, in case of traffic. Adrien parked the car by the curb next to the tent Felix had mentioned then rushed inside hoping no one saw him. He sat down at a chair set up for him and waited. It reminded him of his modeling days and wondered if Felix had hired a make-up crew and expected him to wear a custom Graham De Vanily line outfit. No such thing happened. He sat alone for a while until his cousin joined him. 

“You look nervous,” Felix said.

“I just haven’t been in the public eye in so long, I don’t remember how to act.” Adrien stared at his hands as he leaned his elbows on his knees.

“The boy who spent most of his life as the model, sunshine boy, and face of his father’s fashion company?” Felix snorted a laugh. “It's muscle memory Adrien, just like your… your kung fu.” he gestured with his hands toward Adrien. 

“But that’s not me anymore, and I don’t want to present as someone I’m not.” Adrien scoffed. “That’s the same as lying,” he emphasized. 

“I guess…” Felix thought for a moment. “Just be yourself.” he narrowed his eyes. “But let’s not start throwing kicks or punches while on stage save that for the drunken after-party.” Adrien laughed. 

“Only if you join me with some kicks and punches of your own.” 

“I’ll think about it.” they both laughed. “It’s time.” Felix stood up as he heard the emcee Nino introducing him. He slipped through the opening opposite the street and entered the stage. Adrien could hear the crowd clap for him.

“Thank you thank you,” Felix said as the crowd quieted.

“These past 5 years have been a time of healing for all of us.” Felix started. Adrien’s emotions already welling up in his as he tried to swallow it back. He decided to practice his breathing techniques while he waited for his cue.

“Some of us.” Felix paused. “Affected on a more personal level. The family of the man who wrought years of torture on all of us without anyone knowing who he was. We, the Graham De Vanily and the Agreste family felt the final blow of Hawk Moths’ actions just as much as the rest of you and because of that. We have had to work extra hard to ensure our place in YOUR lives would not be clouded by the actions of one man. We do NOT condone his actions, we do NOT acknowledge him. We DO, however, ask that you forgive us our ignorance in his actions, and accept us as one of your.” the crowd cheered as Felix went silent for a moment. “And when I say we. I am referring to myself and…” Adrien stood at the opening waiting for his introduction. “Adrien.” He stepped out of the tent hearing even the quietest whisper die out. “Now, let our Sunshine boy say a few words, then let us celebrate once again.” He stepped away from the mic as Adrien glanced nervously at Nino. Nino gave him a supporting nod as he stepped up to the mic. 

“I… I can’t tell you all, how sorry I am for what my father did to you all, but…” He felt a hand rest on his shoulder. He looked up and found Luka smiling at him. The wrecking ball in his stomach settled down as he turned back to the crow. “I had a lot to process but that doesn’t excuse my actions in leaving you all without a word all these years and I hope you can find it in your heart to…” he searched the audience until he found her face in the back. A look of shock and bewilderment as if she had forgotten to breathe. “I am sorry.” His words were meant mostly for her. He stepped back from the microphone looking for a clear path to her. As if the audience saw what he was thinking they cleared the way all turning their eyes on Marinette. Adrien ran across the stage leaping from it. Landing softly on the grass he walked up to Marinette hoping his actions didn’t scare too her bad as he approached her. 

Her face froze in shock as he reached her. Bright pink tinting flushed over her cheeks as her mouth gaped open. He rested both hands on her shoulders as he looked down at her. She didn’t move so he pulled her into a hug. Finally, her arms came up around his waist and she pressed herself into the hug. She began to tremble in his arms. 

“Can we have a minute alone?” he whispered into her ear. He felt her nod so he releases one arm from her and used the other to pull her along to the farthest side of the park. They found a bench and took a seat in the shade. He watched her as her eyes focused on the ground.

“I am sorry, for the things I left unsaid.” his voice quivered as he fought back the tears. She was crying and he knew he would be too if he didn’t focus his breathing. “I can’t expect you to forgive me…”

“But I do.” her eyes shot up to his. The moistened eyes and cheeks made him choke. He never wanted to see her cry. “I know why you left, I know it must have been hard for you to face us, to face me.” Adrien reached his hands up cupping her face on both sides as he ran his thumb over her cheeks wiping away the fresh tears. 

“About that too, but I meant…” he could feel his cheeks warm up as he remembered her words that day, how she had told him it was okay if he didn’t feel the same, but that she loved him. “I should have told you back then. But I...I do feel the same.” Her tears seemed to stop suddenly as she looked up at him in surprise. “It has always been you.” 

“But you said…” She choked. “There was a girl that you loved.” Adrien smiled. 

“How many times did you deny to my face that you had feelings for me?” Adrien released her face and folded his hands together looking at the sky. “Even you can’t deny how easy it is to love Ladybug,” he said. 

“Ladybug?” she giggled 

“Are you laughing at me now?” Adrien smiled at her. 

“It’s just. Well, you should ask her when you see her tonight.” Adrien froze for a minute. He couldn’t be Adrien while he was Cat Noir, and Marinette didn’t know that about him. 

“I won’t be staying for that part.” he frowned. “I have to return home, I have, responsibilities.” 

“Home?” Her face dropped to the ground again as her arm came up around her chest to hug herself. 

“I have another confession for you.” He said taking her chin in his hand tipping her face to meet his again. “I live in Shanghai, where I teach Kung Fu to kids and learn how to cook from the World’s Greatest Sifu.” 

“Uncle Cheng?” Marinette’s eyes widened. 

“And I stock my closet with Marinette designs.” her face lit up at the mention of her brand. “Thank you for the bonus Cat Noir Onesie.” A realization came across her face.

“That was you.” she punched him in the shoulder then pulled her hand back quickly. “OUCH!: Adrien laughed at her. “Wait, what about the week I spent there with my parents?”

“I saw you from across the street, when you went to the museum, and when I stopped by the restaurant.” He sighed, he didn’t want to get Cheng Sifu in trouble. “Don’t be mad at him. It was I who couldn’t face you.”

“So, you have been in Shanghai this whole time?” She looked confused taking his hand in hers.

“Well, the last three years.”

“But we have been searching for you everywhere.” Marinette scowled. “Don’t you think I would have checked there first?”

“Oh, uh, about that.” he rubbed the back of his neck. “I uh, I changed my name from Agreste to Graham De Vanily, because…”

“That part you don’t have to explain.” she sighed. “When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow.” 

“Then why can’t you be here for the Hero Celebration?”

“There is… something I have to do. I might come back afterward if you want me to.” Marinette smiled. 

“Alright stop hogging the Sunshine boy,” Alya said, grabbing them both by the arms and dragging them back to the group. 

“What about the wedding,” Marinette asked as they walked back. “Your best friend is getting married. He needs you to be his best man.” 

“I thought it was you getting married. Besides I don’t even have a tux.” he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly hoping she hadn’t heard the first part. 

“Oh, I already took care of the tux, just in case. I did a favor for Felix in exchange for your measurements. He tried to act like he didn’t know, but I knew better.'' The group was dancing to Kitty Section. Adrien began to move as he stood in front of Marinette. “Who would I be getting married to anyway?” Adrien froze for a moment

“Luka?” Adrien tried to sound casual about it. But Marinette began to laugh as she danced with him.

“He and Zoe got married a few years ago, they have twins now.” Adrien was surprised but also happy for his good friend. He glanced up to the stage watching him strum on his guitar. “He focus’ more attention on making stringed instruments, but they have a record deal and they play venues like this.” Juleka strumbed on her guitar as Rose sung and Ivan played the drums. Adrien marveled for a minute when he realized the old keyboard was set up with no one playing it. The song came to an end and as if he could hear his thoughts.

“Adrien, care to join us for old times sake?” Luka asked through the microphone. He could feel his face light up as everyone turned to him cheering. Adrien climbed up on the stage and took his spot at the keyboard. A microphone was sitting in front of it. 

“Forgive me… It’s been a long time since I played.” Adrien said shyly

“Take your time, brother, we haven’t played this one since you left, so it'll be a refresher for all of us.” Luka smiled at him. Adrien beamed at the reference to family he hadn’t heard in forever. Rose's voice hasn't changed much, it was still squeaky and meek but when she began to sing, she became a total rocker. Adrien never really understood the song about Unicorns, but it did have a feel good beat and always made everyone cheer. They played out the song as if it had been yesterday. 

“Thank you Adrien.” Rose hugged him before he left the stage to rejoin Marinette, Juleka grabbed him after Rose then Ivan and Luka. 

“Welcome home.” Adrien blushed hoping his feelings didn’t expose him too much. On his way back to Marinette, his whole class took a minute to welcome him home, grab him into a hug, high five or some other friendly gesture. Marinette waited for him where he had left her. 

“We’re going to slow it down now and give Kitty Section a Brake.” Nino said over the mic. A melodic piano tune began to play and Adrien knew it well, it was their song. The song he and Marinette had danced to every time they danced. It slipped his hands around her waist as she lifted hers over his shoulders and he pulled her tight against his chest. He had to stoop forward now that he was so much taller than her. He tightened his grip on her and slowly lifted her off the ground. He was so deeply entranced by her as her arms tightened around his neck. Her face now buried in his neck. 

“I just remembered how you loved dancing with your feet off the ground.” He could hear her chuckle a little at the reference to their New York trip. She lifted her head up from his neck as he felt her lips press against his cheek, then tucked back against his neck. As the song ended he returned her feet to the ground. “It is better this way, so you don’t step on my feet and trip us both.” He said playfully scratching the back of his neck. She swatted at him and huffed. He reached out to grab her arms as she pulled away from him. With her back turned to him he wrapped his arms around her again then placed a kiss on her cheek. He released her just as quickly.

Kitty Section went on to play a few more songs. Adrien took Marinette to get a plate of snacks from the buffet table and sit back down at the bench from earlier. The day waned on as the sun began to set. 

“Dudes and Dudettes lets’ give Kitty Section a hand as they are done for the night as we now surrender the stage to Jagged Stone his first song is a shout out to all you super heroes out there to join us up on stage. Here’s Jagged Stone playing Miraculous.” Nino ran off the stage and disappeared. 

“Hey, Marinette, can we talk… You know.. Over there?” Alya grabbed her hand and drug her away before Adrien could say anything. This was perfect though. Adrien snuck off to the tent and called on his transformation. He found his way to Marinette’s old Balcony and scanned the area waiting for the others. Ladybug was the first to land on the stage with Rena Rouge and Carapace at her side. Soon, Viperion stood beside Ladybug with Purple Tigress beside him. Polymouse and Pigella were there too. One by one the team that took down Hawkmoth took their places on the stage and held their stance. Vesperia landed flawlessly. Suddenly the entire team began to chat together led by Ladybug.

“Cat..Cat...Cat...Cat...Cat” Ladybug called out.

“Cat Noir!” the entire crowd called as his face flushed with joy. He thrust himself into the air allowing his body to sumersault just before landing between Viperon and Ladybug. With one knee and hand on the stage, his other hand on his baton he looked up to see the crowd going wild and cheering. 

“Welcome back Kitty.” Ladybug said as Viperion stepped aside making room for him and Ladybug at the center of the stage.

“What’s a Ladybug without her Cat Noir?” He recited the words from Marinette’s card. They all struck their superhero poses as the entire audience lit up in camera flashes.

[tchallasbabymama]

M’Baku’s Love- Chapter 3

Let me know if you want to be tagged, and make sure you check out my masterlist HERE for chapters 1& 2 and my other stories. 

Also, just so y’all know, the last scene has paraphrased lines from the movie (which you should definitely go watch if you haven’t yet.)

Enjoy!

Word count: 2392

___________________________________________________

The day of the open house was upon them and M’Baku was more than excited to get to work with Monae some more. The workday crept by and as soon as the clock struck 5 he hurried out of his office and down the two flights of stairs to the arts wing. He wasn’t entirely sure where he was going, but he followed the sound of drums coming from one of the rooms. He walked up to the door and peeked in, seeing Monae teaching a class full of children West African dance. He leaned up against the doorframe and took in her graceful form and mesmerizing hips. He could have stood there and watched her move forever until one of the kids turned and saw him off to the side.

“Hi Mr. M’Baku!”

Monae and the kids turned towards him and greeted him. Monae’s smile was the brightest in the room.

“Hello children, Miss Monae.”

She sent him a small wave as the children surrounded him, all talking at once and all wanting to show him their moves.

“Alright, kiddos, lets all show M’Baku what you’ve been working on before you get out of here, Ok?”

“Ok!” 

The drummers started back up and the kids started to dance, the looks on their little brown faces making Monae smile at their joy. She watched her students with pride as they finished the number and took their bows. She and M’Baku both erupted in applause.

“Very good, class! Ok y’all can go on home now. If you come to the open house make sure you stop by and say hi, Mr. M’Baku here is going to be my assistant for the evening.”

The kids grabbed their bags to head home, some of them stopping to hug Monae and M’Baku on the way out to their guardians. M’Baku was taken aback since he had not had enough experience around young children to know they have no concept of personal space. Monae laughed at the confused look on his face, a near permanent fixture he was becoming used to by being in this new land. He was just happy he could make her smile. 

After the last child ran out, almost tripping over her shoelaces, Monae introduced M’Baku to her drummers Kehinde and Rodney. They bonded for a bit before Rodney slid out of the way to let M’Baku play his drum.

Monae couldn’t help but move with the way he struck the beautifully made instrument.. Her feet and hips took on a life of their own and she let the beat carry her however it saw fit. M’Baku already thought her choreographed dances were beautiful, but this? Her natural movement called to him as he moved her body with each stroke of his hands. Neither one of them were sure how long they were going for, but Rodney had to clear his throat to break the trance.

“Hey so I uh, I gotta head out. Sorry to interrupt whatever that was.” He pointed between the two, obviously picking up on the chemistry.

“Yeah, no, y’all get outta here. It’s late anyway. See you tomorrow?” 

“Of course.”

“See ya Monae, byyyeeee M’Baku.” Rodney and Kehinde snickered as they left the room.

“So, what first?” M’Baku asked, still coming down from the high he just experienced with her.

“Woo, sorry, let me uh catch my breath real quick...you’re good.” She gestured towards the drum.

“So are you,” he gestured towards her body and she cracked a smile.

“I’m aware.” She walked around him to the other side of the room to start straightening up the space. He joined in and the room was spotless in minutes.

“So,” she clapped. “I figured since the kids love you so much you’d be great at keeping them busy while the adults talk to me. Nakia brought us a bunch of Wakandan children’s books, so how about you read to the kids? You have to do voices though, if you don’t do voices I’m putting you somewhere else.” She was dead serious.

“What kind of monster does not change their voice to read to children?” M’Baku asked incredulously.

Monae’s mind flashed to two years ago when she asked Derrick to do something similar at the after school program where she volunteered. He just read it straight like it was a speech, and the kids were restless. It was a nightmare.

“You would be surprised. Ok so take a look through these and see if any jump out at you,” she handed him the crate full of books and he thumbed through them.

“I do not see any Jabari books,” he pulled out a small notepad and began scribbling his thoughts down.

“You don’t use the beads like the others?” 

“I could, but it is unnecessary technology for the most part.”

Monae nodded, remembering that the Jabari preferred to live analog. 

“Let me run this by you real quick, and you tell me what you think,” Monae started as he turned to give her his full attention. “I have sooooo many Wakandan beads I need to get rid of, so how about I set up a jewelry station across the hall? Just some beads and string, nothing too fancy. Then over in the paint lab I was thinking of using these extra textile scraps and old magazines to make mixed media collages. For the last station I have like a million gourds for the kids to paint, and I figured they could do that next door. I have three volunteers set up at each station, so don’t worry, you’ll have help with the kids. I wouldn’t just throw you to the wolves like that.” She winked at him as M’Baku nodded along, processing everything she said.

“This is not my specialty, but that sounds like a good plan to me.”

“What is your specialty?”

“I am a man of many talents, as you can see, but I am a warrior above all else.”

Her cheeks felt hot as she tried to quiet the damsel in distress inside her brain. She cleared her throat and changed the subject.

“You mentioned that there aren’t any Jabari stories in here. You don’t have to use the books if you’d rather go off the cuff with it.”

M’Baku’s gap toothed smile shone through as his theatrical side woke up from its slumber. 

“You might regret that later.” 

______

The children loved M’Baku so much they barely touched the crafts Monae had set up for them. He regaled the kids, and the adults, with Jabari folktales about snowmen and giant gorillas and how the Jabari came to be.

“And then the Jabari left for the mountains. For centuries, the Jabari and the rest of Wakanda were angry at each other until-“

“Why?” interrupted a kid with his front two teeth missing.

“Well because the Jabari cared more for tradition and old ways, but the Wakandans wanted everything shiny and new. They argued so much they had to move away to keep the peace, and that is when Hanuman guided the Jabari to the mountains.”

“Who’s Hanuman?” asked a little girl with beaded cornrows.

“The god who guides and protects us.”

“My mama says theres only one god and his name ain’t Hanuman,” she responded with an attitude. Some of the parents and kids nodded along in agreement. 

“Well, you see, your mother is simply wrong-”

“Ok, that's enough for now. Let's give Mr. M’Baku a round of applause for storytime, huh?” Monae interrupted before things got too heated, and the crowd clapped for their griot. 

People wandered in and out of the room for the next couple hours, enjoying the crafts and M’Baku’s storytime. Monae kept everything running smoothly, including refilling M’Baku’s water bottle multiple times to keep his voice strong.  Shortly before closing time T’Challa wandered into the room and sat with the children listening to the same stories M’Baku had told so many times that night Monae could recite them herself. When it was over and the last guest had left the center all the staff and volunteers breathed a sigh of relief. 

“I think that went well!” M’Baku said, his voice hitching from overuse.

“Drink some more. Oh yeah, they absolutely loved you. You know T’Challa recorded your dramatics while he was here? You could win a Tony with that performance.” Monae gushed, proud of her, uh, friend. 

“Who?”

“It's an award for stage actors. I’ll make you a list like the one Captain America had.”

“What sort of list?”

“Of pop culture and historical things you should know. He spoke about it in an interview a few years ago and I thought ‘that’s brilliant, I’d do that too’ but I never had the chance...until now.”, her excitement was palpable. 

“That is a good idea, I will have to commend him on that the next time I see him.”

Monae froze.

“I’m sorry, you know Captain America?”

“Well yes, he and some other Avengers have been to Wakanda a couple times.”

Monae was speechless. She’d had a huge crush on Steve Rogers ever since he defrosted.

“I- what’s he like?” she asked, barely forming words.

M’Baku found her obvious fawning amusing and wondered if this is how she would look if she spoke about him to others. 

“He is nice,” M’Baku said before leaning in a little closer. “Especially for a colonizer.”

Monae cackled and they continued to straighten up the room. Once the area was sufficiently cleaned for the night, the two headed out to their cars. Monae yawned as they packed her little electric car full of art supplies.

“It seems it is past your bedti-” he was cut off by the sound of his stomach trying to climb out his body. “Well, then.”

They broke out into laughter, only subsiding when her stomach answered the mating call.

“Would you like to accompany me to dinner? It will be my treat. I was planning on going to The V Spot for some more jackfruit tacos.”

“Mmm, they have these vegan nachos that I would sell my arm for, but I’m so tired I’ll probably fall asleep on you. Next time?” she sent him an apologetic grin. 

“Next time it is, then.”

Monae turned to get into her car before stopping and turning back around to face him.

“You know what? I think I have one good hour left in me. Let’s meet there.”

_____

Both of them were too tired to speak, especially since M’Baku had done enough talking that night to warrant a week of silence. M’Baku paid for their food and they left, still in comfortable silence until reaching the sidewalk.

“Let me walk you home, you should not be out here by yourself.”

“M’Baku I can literally see my building from here.”

“And? Anything could happen between here and there. I would never forgive myself!”

The butterflies in her stomach were in full flight mode, and her face grew hot. She playfully rolled her eyes at him and turned away to mask her blushing face.

“Ok fine.” She said with faux reluctance. She wanted nothing more than to spend every moment she could with this man, but the ring weighing down her finger made it challenging. She knew she shouldn’t feel this way, but Derrick is always out of town on business and she can feel the relationship slipping away. Even before M’Baku swooped in, her feelings for her fiance had started to dwindle. However, she did enjoy spending time with M’Baku and she figured there’d be no harm in taking the short stroll between The V Spot and her place.

“So, which direction?” M’Baku asked and Monae pointed to the right before they slowly took off down the street, arm in arm, in silence once again before Monae spoke up two minutes later.

“Well, this is me.” 

They both just stood there, not knowing how to end the night.

“I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow?”

“Of course...I will say though, where I am from when you walk someone home from a date there is usually a goodnight kiss involved.”

She was stunned at his forwardness, and she could feel her pulse all over her body.

“But I guess this was not really a date, huh?”

“Um, n-no. M’Baku you know I’m engaged.” She said, looking down.

“Yes, but do you?” his eyes narrowed and he tilted his head as stepped closer to her. She didn’t move away, so he took another step forward so that their bodies were almost pressed together. 

“It was date-like.” she conceded.

He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her in tight, closing the tiny gap of space left between the two of them. Her hands found their way to his chest and his other hand came up to tilt her chin upwards before he placed a light kiss on her lips and let her go. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked over his face. She took in his prominent brow and his strong jaw, his pillowy lips and his soft eyes. He was a giant wall of a man and she couldn’t get enough of how he felt up against her, 

“That’s it?” she teased before pulling him back and making him lean down into a deeper kiss. His hands rested respectfully at the small of her back despite his desire to explore her body more, and hers rested around his neck for the same reason. They broke away quickly when the door of the apartment building opened and an older man walked out with his dog, undoubtedly to go on a nighttime walk around the neighborhood before retiring for the night. He looked at them and shook his head before mumbling something under his breath about heathens. 

They looked back at each other and broke out laughing. 

“You should go,” Monae said softly while fiddling with his collar.

“I do not want to,” he whispered.

“I know, but-”

“You are engaged. I know,” he took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. “Goodnight Monae.”

“Goodnight M’Baku, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He waited for her to get inside before turning around and heading back the way they came to make the short journey to his temporary home. The entire walk back, he hummed along to an unwritten love song in his head with a goofy smile on his face. He could still taste her and, by Hanuman, he wanted more.

Next Chapter

[monsterywriting]

Maledos - pt 1

masterlist

This is a rewrite. Read the original parts here, here and here

word count: 7,381 (!!!)

AN: i have really wanted to finish this story, but the original wasn’t really well planned out (and reading my old writing was :/) SO i decided to make one GIANT rewrite of the originals and continue from there. i mostly added on to what was already there with some minor changes so the story would make more sense and just add some extra bits :) the originals will be taken off the master list but will still be linked here.

Everything burned as you raced through the streets of your neighborhood, frantically searching for your dog. Your legs and lungs were screaming from the workout you’d only just finished and your eyes stung with the threat of tears from your panic.

Of course Pumpkin would take off after the two of you had just come back from running on the park trails, only seconds away from entering the safety of your apartment building when a car backfired nearby and scared her.

You called her name out in desperation, though you knew she was probably long gone from the area. You had only just moved into the city recently and neither her or you were familiar enough with the area to not get lost.

You bit your thumbnail anxiously. Pumpkin wouldn’t last a minute out on the streets by herself, exposed to the elements. She was sensitive, scared of her own shadow when it was cast on a wall. Not to mention, the weather forecast for the night called for thunderstorms, dark clouds already gathering overhead to block the afternoon sun.

“Hey, kid, need some help?”

You almost don’t realize the stranger is talking to you, too preoccupied in your own worry to pay much attention to your surroundings. Once you do, however, you’re too relieved at the display of kindness to correct the tiefling that you were actually an adult.

Your potential savior towered over you, well over 6’ even without including his horns that curled back over his head, average for a tiefling but giant in comparison to your short figure. His skin was a fiery red and he was dressed in all black - a nice dress shirt tucked into slim-fitting trousers that accentuated his buff figure nicely. The most striking part of his outfit, however, was the leather biker jacket with an unfamiliar emblem of a stag surrounded by brambles. Had you been in your right mind, you may have also taken in his short-cropped black hair, bright yellow eyes, strong nose and jawline, nice full lips - in short, handsome, model-like, statuesque, hot, all terms you may have used to describe him if you weren’t preoccupied with finding your dog.

He also looked fairly annoyed with you, though you decided to attribute it as his resting face since he had obviously taken the time to come out of his way to stop and help you.

“Uhm- yes, my dog, Pumpkin,” you explained breathlessly, hardly able to focus as you continued to look around for a familiar flash of fur, “she took off while I was unlocking my apartment building’s door! We just got back from the park!”

Maledos appraised the tiny human with an eyebrow raised. He was still debating whether to actually go out of his way for you, his question more rhetorical than anything else, expecting the person to wave away a stranger rather than roping them into their problem.

Based on the owner, however, he figured ‘Pumpkin’ was a chihuahua. Or a Pomeranian; something small and fluffy that surely couldn’t have gotten far. It wouldn’t take long to find the little rascal, so he didn’t mind potentially being a few minutes late to work.

“I’ll walk with you and help you look,” he offered. You certainly didn’t look like you were a resident of the neighborhood, and at the grateful look you gave him as you eagerly accepted, you had probably been worried about wandering around the predominantly orcish neighborhood alone.

Maledos came to regret not minding his own business, however, as those few minuets stretched into an hour of searching every single alleyway, dumpster and parked car they came across and he had long since missed the window to get out of this mess. Valbaugh was definitely going to kill him once he finally showed up. 

You, on the other hand, were laser-focused on finding your dog, nervously looking up at the darkening sky every so often and hoping that she was hunkered down somewhere and not running in the busy intersections.

After entering yet another alley while you checked under parked cars, Maledos squatted down to look under a store’s dumpster, careful not to get his shoes or pants in any of the unidentifiable dumpster juice leaking from a crack in the metal but eventually forced to place his hands on the pavement to peer underneath the gap, internally cursing at the definite crease in his leather shoes. He stood up, glancing down the mostly empty alley and catching a glimpse of brown fur disappearing behind some smaller trashcans.

Praying its your dog and not a stray so he can leave, Maledos approaches, intent on grabbing the dog and swiftly returning it to you. Moving the trashcan and expecting to see a tiny fluff ball, his gaze was instead met with that of a giant pitfall, its expression decidedly murderous. Its muscles flexed impressively underneath its reddish-brown pelt and its studded pink leather harness only added to the fearsome image before him. He scrambled out of the way, about to yell at you to run when you suddenly let out a screech and called out Pumpkin’s name again, this time in joy, crouching down and holding your arms open.

The pit ran past him and barreled into you, nearly knocking you over with the force of the collision. Standing up, you lifted Pumpkin with barely a grunt - an impressive feat in and of itself - and peppered her face with kisses as Maledos stood awkwardly out of the way of the touching reunion. 

Finally setting the dog down, you grabbed the leash that had been trailing behind her and began thanking Maledos profusely as the two of you walked down the street and back to your starting point.

“Thank you again,” you repeated as you walked your now definite savior, sincere in your gratitude even if he’d been a grouch the entire time, “I only moved here a month ago and I was so worried I’d get lost!”

You gestured to the specific building down the road, evidently having no issue with telling him your address. In fact, the entire time Maledos had been with you alone in isolated parts of the neighborhood, you didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the fact that he, a complete stranger, may well have been a serial killer.

But more pressingly, Maledos realized the apartment building you pointed to was his own. Another surprise - you were apparently his neighbor.

As Maledos tuned out your rambling, he took the time to fully examine you. You obviously weren’t a little kid as Maledos had originally thought, but were incredibly short - you couldn’t be more than 5’. You were dressed in workout clothes, which was to be expected if you had just left the park as you told him. You spoke animatedly, your eyes and facial expression giving away every fluctuation in emotion while your hands waved about, even as he didn’t pay attention, he could guess you were recounting the moments leading up to you losing your dog - who was walking calmly in between you and him with her tongue lolling out the side of her mouth, seemingly the exact opposite of her spaz of an owner.

“I just don’t know how to repay you,” you finished as you finally reached the front of the apartment building, gulping down a deep breath before looking expectantly at Maledos.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said gruffly, continuing down the street in the direction he’d originally been going before the over hour-long deviation from his routine. Glancing at the time, he realized just how much time had elapsed and cursed under his breath, Valbaugh no doubt fuming at the bar.

“Well, I hope to see you around!” You called after him, certain he didn’t catch your name even as you shouted it as loudly as you dared in a residential neighborhood.

Maledos doesn’t turn around, not bothering to acknowledge your friendliness, knowing you wouldn’t last long in the neighborhood - no matter how tough your dog looked.

You, meanwhile, turn to look down at Pumpkin, the dog whining as she pulled on her leash to go inside. You quickly acquiesce, rushing to unlock the door just as the first raindrops began to fall on the sidewalk where you’d just been standing.

It wasn’t until after you reached your apartment and threw yourself on your bed in exhaustion that the gravity of the entire situation hit you. You could have lost Pumpkin for far longer than the time it took to find her had that tiefling not found her. And only now did you realize you never caught his name, though as you hugged Pumpkin close in your bed with emotional tears streaming down your face, you felt incredibly indebted to him, whoever he was.

You don’t remember falling asleep like that, though you must have as you’re forcibly shaken awake by your roommate facedown on your bed with your shoes still on your feet hanging off the edge and Pumpkin stretched out along your side. In your surprise, you suddenly shot up, effectively scaring the daylights out of Kharza, which in turn scared Pumpkin passed out next to you.

Checking your phone, you were shocked to find it was already 4 o’clock in the afternoon and outside your window the storm was in full force, the occasional rumble of thunder in the distance as giant raindrops sounding like hail pelted the windows.

Kharza flicked your forehead and pouted as her other hand reached over to scratch Pumpkin’s ear to soothe her, “Don’t scare me like that! What the hell happened to you? I’ve been calling you all afternoon.”

“Pumpkin got spooked by some car backfiring today and took off,” you explained, apologizing before getting into the whole spiel of what had transpired, wondering just how much to reveal to Kharza of the grumpy tiefling who came to your aid in case it made for an awkward interaction later, “Somebody did stop and help me, though. I don’t know if he lives nearby but if it wasn’t for him I probably wouldn’t have found Pumpkin.”

Kharza’s expression had grown increasingly grim as she absorbed the story, concerned about what could have happened to either one of you while running around the city’s busy streets alone. Rather than lecture you for not being more careful when you were so clearly shaken up about what had happened still, Kharza instead turned to Pumpkin and mock-scolded her in a baby voice, making you laugh at Pumpkin getting excited by Kharza’s tone alone.

You’ve known the half-orc since you were both in diapers, growing up in the same small town together - and keeping in touch even after she went to college in the much larger city - meant that she knew how important Pumpkin was to you and exactly what you needed to relieve the tension you felt.

“I’m glad you found her quickly,” Kharza said as she got up and walked to your bedroom door, “but hurry up and jump in the shower. We’re going out for drinks tonight.”

“What about the rain?” You asked, looking out the window at the seemingly endless torrent. You couldn’t even see the street below through the thick sheet of rain.

“I already checked the weather. It should be done by 7 so we can head out at 10,” Kharza insisted confidently, “I need a drink after being called in on a Saturday and you need to get out of your little new resident bubble. Bring out the party animal you from our high school days, huh?”

You chuckled along at the memory, somewhat embarrassed but acquiescing with her invitation out, knowing that despite coming out as a demand, she would have no problem if you declined. You supposed Kharza was right in that you had been in something of a slump since moving to the city and away from home - not going anywhere besides your job, the park with Pumpkin and the apartment. You didn’t know anyone here, and hadn’t really made the effort to get to know them.

You thought once you started your job you could get to know your co-workers, but the office you worked at was much larger than you thought and the cubicles kept everyone fairly separate, making it hard for you to really get friendly with anyone. Tonight would be the perfect opportunity for you to meet Kharza’s other friends and perhaps make some of your own.

Still, you were apprehensive standing in front of your closet wrapped only in your towels just hours later. It had taken you hours to convince yourself that Pumpkin would be okay alone, the thunderstorm long past and snoring loudly on your bed after going out to use the bathroom, and now you couldn’t help but agonize over what to wear. On one hand, it was your first time going out with Kharza in a long while and you wanted to go all out. On the other, you didn’t want to be stuck wearing uncomfortable clothes all night long.

Finally, you decided to go halfway, picking out a nice top but comfortable jeans, nice shoes but slipping an extra pair of sneakers into your bag just in case. Once you’re satisfied with your pick in clothes, you decided to leave your hair as it was out the shower, only blowdrying it briefly without brushing it out.

With your outfit complete, you grabbed your bag and keys and went out into the living room where Kharza was waiting to head out, though not before you both hyped the other’s outfit. She thankfully also went with a more casual outfit, wearing a pink crop top with a short jean skirt and black heeled boots. Her long, dark hair flowed down her back in loose waves, untamed but not entirely wild, which it usually was when she took it out her work braid. Kharza had been in the process of putting on her jean jacket to complete her look when you exited your room, and as soon as she was ready, you both left.

“What’s the name of the place again?” You asked as you both walked down the empty sidewalk looking for what Kharza claimed was ‘the best bar in town’ and ‘just down the street.’

“The sign doesn’t really match the name, but it’s named after the owner,” Kharza explained, directing you to cross the street at an intersection, “Mal’s.”

You heard the place before you saw it, the patio completely full even after the sudden rain left everything drenched. Though what made your drop was when you approached and recognized the sign, the familiar crest with the stag surrounded by brambles.

You kept your mouth shut, however, as Kharza led you inside through the crowd to a large corner filled with people of all kinds - a couple of orcs and elves, a satyr and a dryad who jumped up smiling and immediately enveloped you in a hug as Kharza introduced you to everyone else.

After brief introductions, you and Kharza head to the bar and you somehow managed to order your favorite beer from the absolutely colossal orc bartender despite the place being completely hammered.

Once you both return to the booth cradling your drinks, you get settled at the edge across from Kharza, you quickly get comfortable, engaging in the conversation with ease, the coincidence of the sign slipping from your mind as you laughed along with everyone.

Kharza always said you had a knack for making friends ever since you insisted on being her friend even when everyone else in kindergarten was wary of her as a half-orc and even went so far as to convince everyone else in your class that she was quote - the coolest and prettiest friend ever. However, tonight you had to attribute your easy assimilation with Kharza’s city friends to her having apparently talked their ears off about you, her best friend back home - including the story of how you became friends. A nice circle, you thought.

Less than an hour later, a familiar face appeared from the midst of the crowd, making you freeze in the middle of listening to the dryad, Nitidea, talk at length about their day. The newcomer squeezed in next to you, making you freeze where you were. Everyone in the group shouted over the crowd to greet the person next to you, all of them referring to him as Mal.

You don’t look up, caught by surprise and stunned into silence at the sudden appearance of the tiefling you met only a couple hours earlier with the most sour expression you’d ever seen on anyone now smiling so widely you were nearly blinded by his sharp, pearly whites. You do note that the smile does falter once his eyes finally met yours as ‘Mal’ realized not only was he sitting right next to you, but the arm he’d so carelessly draped around the person next to him was also you.

“So you were the new roommate Kharza’s been talking about,” Maledos said quietly, recovering from his initial shock with record speed once the rest of the table’s conversation shifted back to what it had been before he arrived, carefully taking his arm off you and pretending to reach for his drink while flashing a quick smile to everyone else, “I wasn’t expecting you to be…”

“Human?” You chuckle as you took a small sip of your own beer, not wanting to get buzzed too quickly, “and I wasn’t expecting the person who went out of their way to help a stranger look for their lost dog to be named Mal.”

“Maledos,” he clarified just a little too quickly, thanking the gods above that he was too red to noticeably blush as you laughed, though he wasn’t sure why he was so damn nervous in his own bar, though he suspected it may have something to do with the intensity of the stare Kharza was giving him from the other side of the table.

“Thanks again for today, I really do appreciate it,” you turn serious for a brief moment, noticing Maledos’ discomfort, which you presumed to be from how standoffish he’d been when you first met, deciding to try and ease the tension now that you apparently had mutual friends.

Giving Maledos one last nod of appreciation, you turned to rejoin the booth’s conversation, the tiefling soon loosening up as well as you pointedly didn’t make a big deal out of his entirely different demeanor. 

Most of the group had never lived outside of the city and urged you to tell them more about living in “the country” since Kharza only ever went on about how boring it was - downplaying just how wild it could be growing up in a small, half-suburb-half-farmland town could be when kids were left to make their own fun.

As you were in the middle of telling your highly engaged audience about the specifics of the after-prom house party at one of the football players’ houses your senior year, the bartender appeared and quietly extracted Maledos from the group. You glanced up as he left, conscious of the sudden loss of the body next to you but continuing the story with Kharza inputting her own memories of the event.

Some indiscernible amount of time later, you found yourself struggling to get through the crowd and to the bar to order another beer for yourself. Once you finally are able to get the bartender’s - Valbaugh, you overhear a nearby patron call him - attention and get your order in, you noticed Maledos a few feet away talking with another group of people, once again amazed by how different he could be, though you supposed since he was at work he couldn’t exactly be Mr. Resting Bitch Face, an assessment you were now comfortable with making now that you knew that wasn’t how he normally looked.

Just as you paid for your drink and were about to turn away with it, Maledos glanced up and you both made eye contact. You smiled and gave a small wave with your free hand, but instead of returning the gesture, Maledos said something to the people he was talking to and began walking over to you. Neither one of you spoke as Maledos ordered a whiskey and when he gave no indication that he was going to speak while you both drank, you finally decided to break the silence yourself.

“You need that stiff a drink to talk to me?” You quipped, already kicking yourself mentally as it seemed to have the opposite effect than you intended, Maledos attempting to explain himself rather than lightening the mood, “I was kidding, Mal. This isn’t a interrogation.”

“Right,” Maledos cleared his throat, downing the rest of his drink, “Sorry, I’m not usually- I just really didn’t expect to see you again, much less with my friends. No offense.”

“None taken. I get it,” you smile, truly not offended as you figured that was just Maledos’ personality with with people he wasn’t close to, deciding to extend the olive branch of friendship first, “So… Kharza tells me you’re the mysterious neighbor I’ve never seen around the apartment before.”

“Yeah, I’m usually here all night and just knock out once I get home,” Maledos finally relaxed, falling into easy conversation with you once he imagined he was speaking to a potential regular customer, “I come and go at odd hours, so most people with normal work schedules wouldn’t exactly run into me.”

“I’m not envious of the all nighters but it sounds nice to have days for yourself,” you marveled, “so how’d you decide you wanted to own a bar?”

“I inherited it from my mom, actually. It’s named after her, too,” Maledos explained, handing his empty glass to Valbaugh and holding up two fingers, “When she opened it, the city was still pretty segregated between the different races. She wanted to have a space that was a neutral zone.”

“Well, it definitely fits the vision she had,” you smile, turning in your chair to take a full look at the diverse crowd in a new light.

“Well, what about you?” Maledos inquired.

“What about me?”

“Why the sudden switch to big city living?” He pressed, “I mean, I get Kharza’s old roommate sucked but that’s hardly a reason to move halfway across the country.”

“You’re right,” you snort, “I was already offered a job here when Kharza told me she needed a new roommate. The pay’s good and the rent was in my budget, so I decided to just bite the bullet and come out here—”

“With Pumpkin,” Maledos finished, chuckling as you beamed at him and nodded enthusiastically in agreement. You had a nice smile, he thought offhandedly, “I’m not gonna lie - seeing that giant dog when I was expecting a chihuahua almost gave me a heart attack.”

“A chihuahua?!” You feigned indignation, the corners of your lips threatening to turn up into a smile, “I’ll have you know a lady of my stature needs a dog to match.”

At that, Maledos burst out into laughter as he commented you probably had to scale the bar stool you were sitting on when you sat down, which finally broke your own serious expression and you both were laughing uncontrollably. The rest of the night passes in a blur, you and Maledos talking at length about anything and everything with only occasional interruptions as other patrons of the bar came to say goodbye to Maledos before leaving.

“I was totally surprised to find out you were so talkative… and smile-y,” you admitted, only a little tipsy after cutting yourself off on your third beer since sitting down, “I mean, you hardly said two words to me all afternoon.”

“Yeah, I’m kind of an asshole before people get to know me, or so I’m told,” Maledos admitted, slightly embarrassed that after making so many assumptions about you, he was now actually enjoying an entire conversation with you.

At some point, Kharza comes looking for you, everyone else heading out. The orc was giving you a familiar look, one you pretend not to recognize or notice. You were shocked you’d spent so long talking to Maledos after telling everyone you were just going to buy a single beer. Maledos glanced down at his watch, looking just as dumbfounded as you.

“Shit, it’s already closing,” Maledos frowned, “Valbaugh, why didn’t you announce last call?”

“I did,” the bartender replied, rolling his eyes, though the grin on his face indicated he wasn’t truly annoyed as he added teasingly, “I guess you were too preoccupied to notice.”

You and Kharza burst out laughing as Maledos’ tail, which had up until then been lazily swishing behind him, stood straight up as he began sputtering indignantly.

“Well, we’re going to head out,” Kharza said, dropping her hands on your shoulder and about to lead you away from the bar when something finally dawns on you.

“Oh, since we’re neighbors we should exchange numbers!” You said quickly, rummaging around in your bag for your phone and completely missing the looks Valbaugh and Kharza shot Maledos.

“Don’t feel too special,” Kharza warned sarcastically, “she also got Ms. Lalshur’s and Mrs. Umekrana’s numbers the first week she moved in.”

Valbaugh snorted, but Maledos’ pointed ears perked up at the second name, “I understand Ms. Lalshur, she talks to everyone… but I’ve lived there for almost five years and Mrs. Umekrana hasn’t said more than ten words to me. And they were ‘quit making all that fucking racket on the stairs every night’.”

You bite back a smile at the jab at your cranky neighbor, handing Maledos your phone so he could add his number to your contacts and taking his offered phone in return, “she’s nice once you get to know her. But it didn’t hurt that I was able to fix her sewing machine for her the day I met her…”

After saying your final goodbyes to both Maledos and Valbaugh, you and Kharza walked back to your apartment, Kharza wasting no time interrogating you about your apparently two hour long conversation with the tiefling as soon as you exited the bar. What did you two talk about? Did he pay for your drinks? Was he flirting with you? And, most importantly, do you like him?

You barely manage to keep up with the barrage of questions, and the last question nearly makes you choke on your own spit at its abruptness. As far as Kharza knows, you’ve only just met Maledos tonight at the bar, and while it is too soon to discern any deeper feelings, you can’t deny that you had fun spending time with him, or that he was incredibly attractive. However, you reason, it wasn’t ideal to date within a friend group, especially when you had no one else you knew - if things even got that far. Frankly, you would probably just embarrass yourself developing a crush on Maledos.

In any case, it would be more trouble than what it’s worth for everyone involved and you immediately decided it would be best to avoid that road altogether, firmly denying any feelings when Kharza asked.

…

A month passed quickly since your first night at the bar. It was the go-to hangout spot for Kharza and her friends, so it was a given once you became a part of the group that you would hang out there often as well, which meant even more interactions with Maledos - the only time you’d see him despite living across the hall from each other. And whenever you went to the bar, the two of you would inevitably take up each other’s time and attention, a fact Kharza loves to claim as proof of something deeper going on between you, entirely convinced that the two of you were sneaking behind everyone’s backs no matter how often you point out that your very average conversations were nowhere near the proclamations of undying love she imagined.

Rather than convince Kharza that nothing was happening - which it wasn’t - it always managed to set her off in a long speech about how dense you were and how you wouldn’t recognize Maledos’ feelings for you if he got down on one knee before you in front of everyone, to paraphrase.

While you couldn’t deny that Maledos was attractive to your best friend, who would easily see through such blatant lies knowing full well your ‘type’ had remained largely unchanged since you were teenagers, you still stood by your decision not to complicate the dynamics of the group with undoubtedly unrequited feelings. It was just downright unlikely that a hot, successful business owner who met hundreds of people every week through his job would find you of all people particularly interesting. Especially considering the fact that Maledos hadn’t given you any sort of indication that he wanted to be anything more than friends, no matter what Kharza said about the ‘subtleties of love.’

Despite your conviction whenever you told Kharza she was reading too much into things, but that didn’t stop the part of your pride that reared its head whenever she inadvertently stroked your ego with claims that some small action showed Maledos secretly was crushing on you. Despite it feeling so very high school, it was still an addicting rush to think so and didn’t help your burgeoning feelings for the tiefling every time you saw him.

After a particularly long day at work - a visit by an important client for the company you worked for requiring all hands on deck as your boss had everyone bending over backwards for them - you fell asleep almost immediately after getting home, only taking Pumpkin out to use the bathroom by your apartment building before passing out and even bailing on Friday night drinks with everyone. So when at almost 6 in the morning Pumpkin’s whining at your bedroom door to be taken out woke you up, you rushed to get changed and take her for a much needed walk, feeling terrible for depriving her of her evening walk.

You went to the park a couple blocks away, sitting on a bench in the small dog park while you watched Pumpkin excitedly sniff around. Despite sleeping well over eight hours, you still somehow nod off, not even realizing you do until you felt someone tapping on your shoulder, eliciting a shrill scream from you.

“Gods above that was loud. And here I was trying to save you from falling off a bench,” you recognized Maledos’ teasing voice right away, twisting around in your seat to look at him leaning over the fence as Pumpkin jumped onto the bench next to you for ear scratches.

“Are you barely coming back from the bar?” You stifle a yawn behind your hand, grinning as you watched Maledos easily scale the fence to sit next to you, still apparently full of energy even after pulling an all-nighter at the bar. He was wearing the leather jacket with the bar’s logo on it - the one article of clothing you had yet to see him without in all the time you’d known him - but now he wore a plain black shirt, jeans and white sneakers as opposed to the dressier clothes he’d been wearing when you met.

“Yeah, Fridays are always our busiest nights so I usually have to stay until the next morning,” Maledos sighed, draping himself over you melodramatically with one arm thrown over his face in mock despair, “I was bored all night without you there. Why did you leave me all alone?”

“Oh, I’m sure you were absolutely lonely in the bar surrounded by 800 of your closest friends,” you snarked, nudging Maledos in his side to get him off. You stifle down your soaring emotions at his remarks, knowing that Maledos’ words were far from flirtatious.

You had long since realized that the tiefling was very much like a cat in that respect - an aloof brick wall to those he didn’t know but incredibly needy with those he was close to - though you couldn't help the swell of pride that came with thought that he preferred having you around over anyone else. It certainly didn’t help dampen your growing crush on the man.

“And what are you doing sitting around in a dimly lit park this early?” Maledos asked, finally sitting up but still draping his arms around the back of the bench.

“I fell asleep early and didn’t get a chance to walk her,” you replied, placing both palms on either side of Pumpkin’s face and squishing the excess skin, making the dog grow so excited her whip-like tail began swinging right dangerously close to Maledos’ arm, “but when else would I be able to run into my night owl of a neighbor?”

Maledos snorted, the two of you beginning to joke around with each other while you sat, mostly about a certain couple on the first floor who was seemingly constantly arguing. You thought it was just in the middle of the night, but Maledos assured you they also kept him up during the day when all he wanted to do was sleep.

As the sky rapidly lightened overhead, Pumpkin started tugging on her leash in your hand, a sign that she was ready to go. Maledos walked with you through the park and back towards the apartment building in a comfortable silence, Pumpkin sticking close to Maledos’ side since he pet her while you walked.

“Oh yeah, Ms. Lalshur tells me you baked her the best cookies she’s ever tasted when you first moved in,” Maledos mentioned as he held the building door open for you, “gotta admit I feel a little left out.”

“I gave some to everyone on our floor, but somebody never answered their door when I knocked,” you said as you started up the stairs with Pumpkin.

“Y’know, I think I remember looking through my peephole and seeing a girl scout once…” Maledos tapped his finger on his cheek while feigning a contemplative look, though he was soon doubling over in laughter as you shoved him for the jab, though he doesn’t even budge.

“Well you can forget tasting any of my baking skills, mister,” you scoffed, turning as though you were going to stomp to your apartment door.

“Hold on, I’m sorry, please give me—shit!” Maledos tried to follow behind you, but neither of you noticed Pumpkin standing between you, the large tiefling falling forward as he tried to avoid hurting her and stumbling over his own feet.

Maledos fortunately caught himself on the wall, effectively caging you between his muscular arms as he hunched over you, your faces mere centimeters apart just short of a collision that would have surely left you both concussed - you worse if his horns had knocked into you.

You let out a chuckle to try and ease the tension, but it comes out too airy, made worse as you tried to joke, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you tripped on purpose, Mal.”

Maledos’ expression softened at the nickname you so rarely used for him in favor of his full name despite how universal it was for everyone else. He broke into a small grin, beginning to say something when the door across the hall slammed open and Mrs. Umekrana walked out into the hall with her trash in one hand and a cigarette in another, interrupting.

“You can’t keep it in your fucking pants until you get into your apartment, Maledos?” She muttered, continuing towards the stairs and taking a long drag that somehow doesn’t set off any of the smoke detectors.

The two of you watched the willowy-looking drow disappear down the stairwell like deer in headlights, the moment quickly hurtling towards uncomfortable.

“I didn’t know Mrs. Umekrana even knew my name,” Maledos said weakly, the first to break the silence as he quickly stepped away from you and loudly cleared his throat.

You were still struggling to catch your breath, not wanting to sound too flustered when you finally responded, though you were fortunately spared from the awkward situation as Pumpkin began whining to go inside beside you.

“It was good seeing you, Maledos,” you said with an only slightly strained smile, unlocking your apartment door and waving one last time before finally shutting the door and able to let out a deep breath you weren’t aware you were holding.

Your mind and heart were racing as you took off Pumpkin’s harness, relieved Kharza was such a heavy sleeper. Obviously unable to sleep after that, you tossed and turned in your bed as you wondered what would have happened - if anything at all - had Mrs. Umekrana hadn’t decided to take out her trash at that very moment.

Finally giving up on sleep, you got up and ventured into the kitchen, Pumpkin not moving from her spot on the bed. It was already 9 o’clock, which meant if your started baking now you could be done in an hour.

You quickly set to work, gathering all the necessary ingredients from the pantry and refrigerator while the oven preheated. Rather than make cookies, you decide to go with brownies since they were much easier to prepare.

Kharza wandered into the kitchen after you’ve already set the pan of mix in the oven, futilely pushing back her bedhead as she watched you pretend to scroll through your phone and look at anywhere but her while you sat at the dining table.

“Brownies? Who’re you bringing out the big guns for?” Kharza yawned as she leaned on the island counter with her chin resting on her palm.

“I’m not bringing out anything,” you replied, pressing the oven light to watch the brownies’ progress despite only just putting it in, keeping your voice even as you nonchalantly add “I’m just making Maledos some brownies.”

“Oh, Maledos, I should have known.” You don’t even need to look up to know Kharza was wiggling her eyebrows with a knowing smirk, her tone saying it all.

You don’t bother to make a reply, any defense of your actions only feeding into her conviction. You definitely could not tell Kharza about what had transpired hours earlier - no matter how badly you needed her advice on the matter. It would only make her more convinced that you and Maledos were an item and Kharza would no doubt tease Maledos with the information, which would make it obvious you were overthinking things with him when nothing actually happened and you couldn’t risk Maledos finding out your feelings like that.

By the time Kharza left on her morning jog with Pumpkin, you had already taken the brownies out the oven and placed the pan in the fridge to cool before cutting them into squares. After stacking two thirds of them onto a plate and sending a quick text to Maledos about coming over, you leave your apartment to go down the hall.

It took you a minute of pacing back and forth in front of his door to gather up the courage to knock, praying that Maledos was even awake. However, before your lifted hand can even make contact with the door, it was swinging open, Maledos standing before you before you can even jump from the sudden movement, your mouth slack in surprise.

“I- uh- got your text,” Maledos explained, standing aside to let you inside. He had changed into a plain white t-shirt and sweats, his hair still dripping obviously fresh from a shower. 

As you walked into the apartment, you were struck by how different it appeared from your and Kharza’s, even with the exact same layout and fixtures. The interior definitely suited Maledos - a lot of steel grays with black splashed here and there, all very modern. The entire apartment was impeccable, ripped straight from a catalogue, a show apartment for tours rather than a home and definitely not one lived in for the last five years. However, it made sense considering Maledos spent most of his free time in the apartment sleeping, the rest in the bar, so it was a given the apartment wouldn’t be messy.

You set the plate down on the kitchen counter, nearly running face to chest into Maledos when you turned around just as he was reaching around you for a piece.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, ducking around him and not looking at Maledos as you felt your cheeks burning. In turn, you missed how Maledos turned to watch you make your way to his bookshelf, reading the spines but not daring to move your hands from your sides lest you mess up the order of everything.

Unbeknownst to you, Maledos had also been unable to sleep after the almost-something in the hallway. He had laid in his bed, wide awake and texting his older sister, who had been less than pleased to be woken up so early on a Saturday but easily placated with the news that Maledos of all people was having girl troubles.

He had been surprised as well. For years running the bar had been his life, everything else put on the back burner to that goal. He was good at that. Successful, even. But in romance, short flings and one night stands were his forte, not pining over his neighbor or a friend’s best friend - in your case, both. You were growing increasingly important to him and he knew for a fact you didn’t deserve having to deal with his ineptitude in longterm relationships. You were someone who baked cookies for your neighbors in your free time and helped old ladies fix their ancient singer sewing machines. You just came over with a plate full of brownies just because he mentioned he wanted to try your baking that morning.

Not to mention he would be risking your friendship if you didn’t even feel the same way. There was simply too much at stake for him, preferring to keep his feelings closely guarded and never acted on.

But all that care and caution was all thrown out the moment he would see you - just as he had this morning while walking back home from the bar. He had needed to rest, wake up before noon and go back to do the expenses. Instead, he found himself already walking over to you and tapping your shoulder, reveling in how all drowsiness dissipated from your expression upon seeing him and the way the corners of your eyes crinkled as you flashed him the widest grin - unconscientious, unabashed in wearing your heart on your sleeve.

“Maledos?” You asked again, jumping up to wave your hand in front of his eyes and drawing him back to reality, “You were spacing out pretty hard. Are you okay?”

“Of course!” It came out too forced, you certainly looked unconvinced. He laughed sheepishly, “Sorry, the all nighters are starting to get to me. What happened?”

“I said Kharza and I were going to go for drinks tonight since we didn’t get a chance to go out last night,” you reiterated, curious of what he had been thinking but respecting his decision not to share, “Maybe you could go with us? I think you could definitely use a night off. You seem tired. Get away from the bar for a night, scope out the competition. I’m sure Valbaugh and the others can hold down the fort.”

The concern you showed for him made a surge of emotion rise up in Maledos, bringing forth a wide smile before he could stop himself, agreeing to go with you. And Kharza.

“Great,” you clapped your hands together in excitement, heading towards the door with a wave, “See you tonight, then. I’ll text you.”

“See you tonight,” Maledos repeated back, returning you wave and standing in the middle of his foyer for a good five minutes after you’d closed the door behind you.

His phone alarm finally sounded, rousing him from his stupor rather than a nap and telling him it was time to go back to the bar. Dismissing it, Maledos opened up his recent calls and dialed Valbaugh to let him know he would be taking the night off.

[a-pretty-nerd]

Tomura Shigaraki x AllMight!Daughter!Reader

Chapter 5

Premis:

When The League of Villains discovers that AllMight has a daughter, they are quick to snatch you up and hold you hostage. Shigaraki had a careful and thought out plan, but that was before you got there. Now you're in the mood for some not-so-healthy rebellion.

Word Count: 1,386

Warnings: prescription drugs, restraints, yelling. 

A/N: So its been a hot minute, sorry my MHA friends! I’ve opened my inbox again, so if you’ve got a request for any MHA characters, I’ve gotchu! (I also write LGBTQ+ content, so whatever you want, I gotchu bb <3) And don’t be afraid to interact! Gimme a like, comment, shoot me an ask, it really helps me out! And if you’d like to support me further, go ahead and check out my Patreon where I’ll be making some exclusive content! 

Chapter 4  Chapter 6 

Shigaraki sat alone in his room pouring over web page after web page. Books, articles, essays, anything and everything he could get his dry, cracked hands on. Telekinetic quirks were common, there was no shortage of people with the ability to move things with their mind. However, he was having a hard time finding cases where the user was medicated to suppress their quirk. Sure, science was always developing new ways to alter quirks, but rarely were people with telekinetic powers put on such strong anti-depressants. 

He leaned back in his chair, his nails digging at the dry skin on his neck as he thought over the information he had collected. He tried to pull the pieces together. You were so scared, so freaked out and panicked. He was having a hard time processing it himself. He had expected you to beg and cry while being held captive, but you were worried, about your captor’s safety. 

He pulled his hand away from his neck and looked down at his hands. The things you said. The way you plead for death. So sincere. No one had ever begged him like that. It sent a cold shiver down his spine. It caught him so off-guard. Maybe he’d bitten off more than he could chew with you. Maybe he should let you go. No. No, he couldn’t. He wasn’t done with you yet. He had plans he had to follow through with. If he could pull this off, he could tear the world apart from the inside, out. If he showed everyone how incapable and flaky heroes could be, he could turn the narrative to the public. It would make everything so much easier. 

If he could just get them to tell the truth. He had tinkered with the idea of broadcasting footage of you telling the truth, but even then, how could he get people to believe. No. He decided he just needed more time. While he plotted further, he would continue to keep you hostage. He had to. 

He stood from his seat and shuffled out into the hallway to find a few stragglers in the living room chatting. He stood there around the corner and listened to them talk. He had given the task of keeping an eye on All Might and the investigation, just so they could stay one step ahead. They were bickering about the best way to go about following All Might since he had hardly left his apartment since your disappearance. 

He turned and walked back down the hallway and stopped in front of a particular door. He stared at it for a moment, lost in thought. He knew you were behind it. He knew he had questions to ask you. He knew you’d comply, you were never shy about giving information before. You were so open but at the same time, so closed off. It was starting to frustrate him. 

He stood in front of the door for a little longer than he realized, lost in deep thought as he contemplated on his options. Suddenly the door swung open, it almost startled him. With wide eyes he looked down at Toga. She looked back with a surprised expression before flashing a smile and speaking. 

“Come to check up on our guest?” She giggled at him. 

“Has she been stabalized?” He asked. Toga looked back into the room and then back to him. She shrugged. 

“A few things move here and there when she’s upset, but nothing extreme. I’d be careful if I were you, she’s easily freaked out right now. She won’t stop begging to be let go. She keeps going on and on about our safety. Somethings not right.” Once she was done talking, Shigaraki walked past her. 

You watched his looming figure make it’s way into the small room. Before you slept in a sleepingbag in a glorified closet, now, you had been tied to an old twin bed. Your arms tied above your head, your feet stretched out in front of you, another binding around your torso. The whole thing made you feel sick and violated. There was something horrifyingly familiar about these restraints. 

“Have you slept at all?” He asked you as he sat down in the chair beside the bed. 

“Have you?” You asked him. You could see the dark circles under his eyes, how puffy and dry they were. You traced imaginary lines over the scars around them, you noted they were the same around his lips. You wondered if they were dry to the touch or just scar tissue left over. 

“How long have you been on medication for?” He asked you. You looked away, suddenly very aware of how long you had been starring at his face. 

“Since my quirk manifested when I was eight. Eight? Nine maybe?” You trailed off, filing through the memories in search of the right answer. 

“And you forgot to mention your medication until recently, why?” 

“I don’t know. This is my first time being kidnapped. I didn’t know when I’d be home, or if I’d be dead.” He scoffed at you. 

“Why do you keep thinking I’m going to kill you?” 

“Are you fucking serious? You’re Japan’s- The World’s most wanted criminal. You’ve killed before you’ll kill again. You think me forgetting about my meds is a big issues, motherfucker its hard to think about anything right now. Much less remembering to take my meds without my phone alarm going off to remind me everyday. I don’t know if you’re aware, by being held hostage is kind of upsetting!” On your last word, the bed began to rattle, a glass of water on the bedside table threw itself towards you, and the chair Shigaraki sat in thrusted forward, closer to you. He jumped at the movement, and grasped onto the sides in an attempt to stablize himself. The sight of the villain in such a state of surprise, made you smile. 

“Fair.” He muttered as he looked around, avoiding your eyes as you chuckled at him. He sat back down before speaking again. “What were you taking?” 

“Paroxzaphin. It’s a strong antidepressant. It’s the only thing that works for me. Because my quirk relies heavily on my emotions, it was difficult to control when I was young. But with the help of medication, it is now manageable.” 

“Supressed.” 

“Exscuse me?” 

“Your medication didn’t manage your quirk, it suppressed it entirely. If it does as you say, then it would have worked to manage your quirk, but instead it suppressed to a point where you were unable to use it entirely. 

“Fine. It suppresses my abilities. But you don’t know what you’re dealing with. It would be better if I didn’t have this ability at all.” 

“Why do you say that? What happens without it? You move a few pieces of furniture around? I’m not afraid of you.” He leaned in closer. Way too close for your liking. 

“You don’t understand. Overtime, it’ll get worse.” 

“How do you know?” 

“You have to let me go, everyone is in danger.” 

“Why? What happens?” He growled. 

“Let me go!” You cried. His frustration peaked as he loomed over you. His eyes wide, his lips turned into a dark frown as he bared his teeth. He reached out a hand. Your restraints loosened around yours arms, until you felt dust fall over your flesh. You pulled your hands down and stared at the bruises the restraints caused. Soon your torso and ankles felt the release as well. You looked up at Shigarak who now stood at the foot of the bed. You opened your mouth to ask him why, but he interrupted you. 

“You’re safe here. I trust you.” He said softly. You were confused. Where did this come from? Why was he so calm all of a sudden? Why was he looking at you like this? Like he understood, like he had sympathy for you. 

“What?”

“I’ll see about getting you your medication. For now, you stay here as you have been. If you feel things are too much, tell us before you go into another fit, okay?” You nodded. He seemed almost reluctant to be saying what he was. To be as mature and nurturing as he was being, but regardless, he seemed to understand. And that was new.

Taglist: 

@craftybean13 @babayaga67 @imjustverable

@bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love

@kamenoyaki @hentaiqween101

[lostinfic]

Art for Hearts’ Sake

Pairing: Jean-François Mercier/Betty Vates

Rated E  |  4400 words

Summary: Betty works in a care home and every week she sneaks out one of her elderly patients to a nearby art gallery. There she meets a mysterious Frenchman. He's an art dealer of some kind, or so she thinks, until he takes her on whirlwind escapade.

Fluff and smut / Art thief AU (loosely based on The Thomas Crown Affair)

Ao3

Betty peeked outside the room, left and right. At the end of the corridor, Mrs. Mansfield opened the door to the stairwell.  As soon as it closed behind her, Betty whispered: “The coast is clear.”

“Let’s go.”

Eighty-three year-old, Maurice Delorme, donned his fedora, pushing it low on his forehead to shade his eyes.

Betty pushed his wheelchair out of the bedroom, down the corridor and into the hall. She winked at 92-year-old Annette who shrieked, clutching her chest, thus distracting the nurse away from the front desk. Betty and Maurice rushed past the reception area, out the front doors and around the building.

Betty stopped to catch her breath. Maurice laughed wheezily, slapping his thigh.

“We did it, ma chère.”

“Remind me to get that fudge Annette likes.”

“Did I ever tell you I once saw her perform at La Scalla de Milan in 1963?”

“Have you?” Betty replied though, of course, she had heard the story before. She didn’t mind, Maurice had had the most amazing life, and she enjoyed his reminiscence however embellished they might be.

The St. James, where she worked, was a small and exclusive care home for elderly millionaires. Certainly nothing like the conditions in which her mother had lived. For many years, Betty had taken care of her mother, who suffered from an early-onset form of dementia, in their small flat in Leeds. When her mother passed away, Betty not only had to grieve for her parent, but also for the many years during which she had put her own life on hold. The day after the funeral, she’d looked at herself in the mirror and realized she didn’t know who she was. On a whim, she had moved to London and promised herself to live life to the fullest.

Things had turned out significantly less glamorous than expected. She couldn’t afford a home in a desirable neighborhood. And, with no formal education or work experience to speak of, she had found employment doing the same chores she had done for her mother. At least, at the St. James, she was paid for it, had real days off, and suffered less verbal abuse. Most of all, moving away had not magically rid her of her shyness and anxieties. Wherever she went, they followed, but she was getting better at giving them the slip.

Part of living life to the fullest had involved letting Maurice convince her to sneak him out of the care home. His doctor advised against any taxing activities and public spaces where germs abounded. But he longed to visit a museum or a gallery.  

“What is a life without art, but a body without a heart?” he’d complained dramatically.

And thus had begun their weekly escapades.

Just a few streets away from the care home was Kinwood Palace, an illustrious property with a world-class art collection open to the public. Betty loved the gorgeous gardens, but Maurice was here for the Rembrandts and Vermeers.

Betty pushed her accomplice over the gravel leading to the neoclassical villa. Despite being hot from the physical effort and warm summer air, Betty kept her cute coat on to hide her unflattering scrubs. She liked the coat’s sixties vibe with its big black buttons and bright colour, something she would never have worn before.

Tourists already filled the great blue and white entrance hall of Kinwood. Maurice flashed their English Heritage membership cards to the box office clerk. Betty scanned the crowd.

“Shall we pay a visit to Boticelli today?” Maurice asked. She nodded inattentively. “Or shall we visit Ringo Starr?”

“Whichever you prefer.”

“Betty, are you looking for him? The Frenchman.”

“Dunno what you’re on about.”

But her blushing cheeks betrayed her.

“You should invite him for— what is it youths call it?— ah, yes, for Netflix and chill.”

She burst out laughing. Her laughter echoed in the gallery, and she promptly slapped a hand over her mouth.

“If I were your age, I would invite him,” Maurice said.

“You were married when you were my age. And you loved Felicia.”

“Yes, yes. I could never love another woman after her. But I was always curious about sodomites… Do you think you could find me a rent boy, dear?”

She giggled and rolled her eyes.

“Well?” he insisted.

“Oh... Maybe?”

“It was good enough for Leonardo, after all,” he said as they stopped in front of framed sketches drawn by da Vinci himself.

Every room of Kinwood palace was breathtaking, Rococo frescoes decorated the walls between Roman columns, and hanging from the coffered ceiling, massive chandeliers sparkled. And there were books, so many books, and vases of fresh flowers everywhere. As Maurice admired the masterpieces in gilded frames, Betty imagined herself living in a place like this, a century ago, or imagined being an actress in a period drama.

“He’s here,” Maurice whispered.

“Who?”

“Who?” he parroted; She wasn’t fooling him.

She glanced sideways and spotted the Frenchman, smoking just outside the garden doors, his jacket hooked on a finger over his shoulder. His hair was neatly pomaded, his trousers tailored, his shirt smooth and sharp: an old-fashioned sort of cool, straight out of her wet dreams.

Her heart skipped a beat, and she bit back a simper. She knew that from behind his sunglasses, he was studying her. One corner of his mouth rose in a languid, crooked smile.

Five times now they had visited Kinwood at the same time.  Five times he had watched her from afar, with that penetrating gaze of his, the hesitated— no, not hesitated, evaluated or calculated— and finally approached her. Though he never stayed long in their company, he’d made a lasting impression on both her and Maurice.

He’d said he was a subcontractor for Kinwood, as an art appraiser, she assumed because of the way he observed everything. Including Betty herself. Being seen, it unsettled her. Most days she felt indistinguishable from a potted plant. Perhaps a side effect of having lived with a mother who couldn’t recognize her anymore for years. Though Betty considered herself plain by contemporary standards, she liked to think that, on a good day, she had a hint of beauty from another era. Perhaps he could appreciate that.

He greeted Maurice warmly, in French, then turned to her, “I thought I’d recognized your laugh.” He pocketed his sunglasses, then took her hand and kissed her knuckles.

To anyone, she would have claimed he was laying it on a bit thick, but deep down she melted.

“Son nom est Betty et elle est célibataire,” Mr. Delorme said to the Frenchman.

Betty glared at him, though she didn’t know what he’d said beside her name.

“I’m Jean-François,” he said, mostly to her.

They walked together through the rooms, and soon forgot about the art. He had a way of mentioning things she had said in previous conversations: he’d read a book she liked, and he asked after the stray kittens she worried. Betty, too, remembered every word he had ever said to her, but was trying very hard to look like she didn’t. But here he was, being so openly infatuated, she’d convinced herself it was too good to be true. Yet every time they met, her misgivings vanished, and she let herself be thoroughly charmed.

They stopped in front of a small canvas, “The Enchanted Castle” by Claude Gellée, and this time Betty paid attention.  

“It’s one of your favourites, isn’t it?” Jean-François remarked.

“I like landscapes the best. They’re like a window to another place, another time. I can almost… jump in. Escape.”

She covered her mouth, regretting that last word. But Jean-François brushed her hand away.

“Yes,” he said simply.

Emboldened by his touch, Betty said, “Would you— I mean, I’m working now, but later, maybe we could— if you’d like…”

“Yes,” he said again.

“Okay.” She laughed and bit her bottom lip.

“But first, I have a painting to steal.”

“What?”

He slipped his jacket on and popped the collar. He said a few words in French to Mr. Delorme, then vanished out of the gallery.

Betty blinked, mouth agape. Well, that’s one way of getting dumped.

“Oh, no, I think I dropped my pills,” Mr. Delorme said, patting his breast pockets. “I swear I had them.”

“I’ll go look for them,” she said, thankful for an excuse to get away.

Fifteen minutes later, she found the bottle of medication in the antechamber thanks to a security guard. After that, Mr. Delorme asked to leave.

On the way back, Betty didn’t say a word. In her mind, she kept replaying the scene, trying to figure out what she’d done wrong. Her eyes teared up, but she blamed it on the dry wind. Humiliation, sadness and anger warred in her chest.

*

They weren’t careful going back inside the care home and were caught by the nurse at the front desk. Mrs. Manfield was a real stickler for rules and disliked Betty.

“We were only out in the garden,” Maurice retorted before Betty could gather her wits.

The nurse narrowed her eyes at them. “If I find out otherwise…” she warned.

Betty could lose her job over these little escapades, all for what? A rich old man and a weird Frenchman?

She took Mr. Delorme back to his room. With an unusually cold attitude, she helped him out of his outerwear and onto the armchair in front of the TV. Her behaviour shocked him, and he tried to soothe her with jokes and charm, but she ignored him.

“We won’t be going back to Kinwood palace,” she announced and left his apartments.

She went back to work, to menial tasks and being called by other carers’ names.

By the end of her shift at 5 pm, on top of the humiliation, sadness, anger and fear of losing her job, she was now feeling guilty about having been so cold with Mr. Delorme. She changed out of her dirty scrubs into her own clothes. Putting on the yellow sundress and cardigan cheered her up. She decided to pay Maurice a visit before leaving.

*

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Delorme. I panicked.”

“Don’t worry about it, ma chère.” He patted her hands. “You will feel better soon, I just know it.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I just am.” He winked.

She chalked it up to his eccentric nature, but then there was a knock at the door.

“Told you,” he said.

Betty opened the door and gasped at finding Jean-François standing there.

“Good evening, Betty.”

“What— what are you doing here?”

“I have some unfinished business.”

He closed the door behind him and walked to Mr. Delorme’s wheelchair. He knelt beside it and fiddled with the underside, finally pulling out a slim leather case.

“Let’s see it,” Mr. Delorme said, rubbing his hands excitedly.

In a smooth move, Jean-François set the case on the table, flipped the locks and revealed its content: a painting. A painting from the Kinwood collection. One of her favorites: a moonlit forest by Joseph Wright of Derby.

“Tell me it’s a very good fake,” she whispered.

“There is a very good fake,” he said, “whether it’s in that case or at the gallery, well…” he smirked.

He closed back the case and checked his watch.

“Perfect.” Jean-François offered her his arm. “Are you ready for our date?”

Betty rubbed her brow and laughed incredulously. She cast a glance at Mr. Delorme who was nothing but encouraging.

“Where would we go?”

“First, I am going to hang this in my home, then we can grab a bite to eat. Is that all right with you?”

Mr. Delorme whispered, “Netflix and chill.”

Betty felt rooted on the spot. Her first instinct was to refuse. Going to a stranger’s house on the first date, a stranger who might be a thief? That was a bad idea. A fantastically terrible idea. A terribly alluring idea.

She looped her arm through his. Striding out of her place of work on his arm, she felt like a million bucks. Which is to say, less than what that masterpiece was worth.

Outside the doors, a gleaming vintage Jaguar awaited them, chauffeur standing straight beside it. They slipped in the backseat. When the door closed, butterflies erupted in Betty’s stomach.

The chauffeur smoothly navigated the traffic and drove them just outside London, to a private aerodrome. Jean-François opened the car door for her just as two men in coveralls rolled a ladder up to a small aircraft.

In a daze, Betty held Jean-François’s hand and followed him inside the cockpit. He buckled her seat harness and gave her some instructions she barely registered. He flicked switches and talked to Ground Control.

“Ready?” he asked her.

Betty should have been scared, but she couldn’t muster any fear, only excitement. Perhaps that’s what should have scared her.

She took a deep breath. “Ready.”

He taxied the plane into position and down the runway, faster and faster. Betty’s heart rate accelerated. Jean-François pulled back the controls, and as they rose in the air, a flush of adrenaline tingled through her body. Soon, they were flying over twilit London.

“Where are we going?”

“Like I said, to my home, first.”

She laughed as the blue-grey waters of the Channel appeared on the horizon. France straight ahead.

Her cheeks ached from smiling, and her heart never slowed.

They landed on a small strip in the middle of a wooded area. Betty’s legs wobbled when she stood up. Jean-François offered his hand to help her deplane. He was so frustratingly cool and composed for someone who’d just flown a stolen masterpiece across the border.

The country air was pure and warm. They weren’t in Paris, but in southern France. They walked along a trail then a grand villa came into view. Whitewashed stone, terracotta roof and blue shutters among ambitious vines and towering cypresses. Dogs ran in the tall grass, and wildflowers decorated the lawn. Solar panels hinted at an off-the-grid lifestyle.

“So?” he asked with a sweeping gesture.

She rolled her eyes with a grin. “Showoff.”

“When else can I show off if not on the first date?”

“All I’m saying is you’re setting the bar pretty high for the second date.”

She thought, even if this turns out to be all a ruse to get her in bed, even if he sends her back to London tomorrow without a goodbye, she didn’t care. It would be worth it. She deserved an incredible fling.

A middle-aged housekeeper came out to greet him and narrowed her eyes at his guest.

“You brought someone with you, monsieur?”

“Don’t worry, Marie.”

He stepped forward, still holding Betty’s hand, but she tugged him back.

“Hey, if I’m not back for my shift tomorrow morning, Mr. Delorme knows I’m with you and what you did.”

“Understood.” He bowed slightly. A curl fell to his forehead. “Smart girl.”

Although the house was old, the interior was modern. Selected antiques blended harmoniously with the warm, minimalist style. Crown molding and tapestries hid a high-end security system. She caught a glimpse of a library and of a workshop filled with art supplies. Portraits hung on the walls, going back generations. A photo of a younger Jean-François with a woman stood out: a wedding portrait. At the sight of it, Betty stopped dead in her tracks. Her nails bit into her palms. She didn’t trust her voice to ask a question evenly.

“Ah.” He scratched the back of his head.  “She… she passed away five years ago.”

“I’m sorry. I thought— well, I’m sorry.”

He hesitated by the photo. For the first time, he looked almost destabilized.

“You thought what?” he asked after such a long pause she didn’t understand his question right away. “That I was a playboy?”

“Maybe. Are you?”

“Is that why you came with me?”

“No.”

He studied her for a moment then brushed a knuckle along her jaw. Without another word, he resumed guiding her through the house.

He led her to the living room. There was another painting in here: a large canvas of hazy water lilies.

“Another very good fake?” she asked.

“Maybe.”

He carefully removed the Wright of Derby painting from the leather case.

“What do you think?” he asked.

She had many thoughts, mostly about all the people who wouldn’t get to see it now.

“Dunno,” she said. “Will you sell it?”

“No. I will deliver it to Maurice’s granddaughter in Vienna. But until then...”

He placed the canvas upon a wooden picture ledge above the fireplace. The moonlit landscape shone against the plain wall.

“Hold on. What? Mr. Delorme?”

“The painting belonged to his wife’s family, but it was stolen by Nazis in ‘38.”

“Are you telling me you’re some sort of Robin Hood?”

“Oh, no. My fees are exorbitant.”

She snorted a laugh.

“Couldn’t they get it back legally?”

“They tried. In the 1960s, I believe. But they’d lost proof of ownership during the war, and the family at Kinwood denied any transaction with former Nazi officers, as one does.”

Betty puzzled over this new information. In less than twelve hours, her idea of him had shifted so many times she could hardly keep track. But one thing hadn’t changed: her attraction.

“You know, you nearly derailed my plans,” he said.

“How so?”

“A year of meticulous planning and then, out of nowhere, comes this lovely woman I cannot stop thinking about. I shouldn’t have let myself be seen talking to Maurice so often.”

“You’re having me on.”

“I brought you here, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but I gave in too easily. Where’s the challenge in that for you?”

“Where’s the challenge in letting someone get close to me?” A rhetorical question veiling a confession.

She tilted her head to the side and considered him. He let her.

“Was anyone hurt by your plan?”

“Not a soul, I swear.”

Marie brought in a bottle of red wine with two glasses and a plate of cheese, bread and thin slices of roasted duck.

Jean-François pressed a button on the wall. Curtains swayed aside, revealing tall sliding glass doors that framed a landscape not unlike the one in the painting. One of the doors was open, warm air swirled in, balmy with dew and night blossoms.

He opened the wine bottle and sampled its bouquet. Satisfied, he filled their glasses which they rose in a silent toast to whatever delights the night might bring. Drinking, she stared at the landscape outside. Beyond a small terrace, the ground sloped to a valley where centennial trees grew around a lake, mist skated upon its silvery surface. Away from the city lights, myriad stars shone in the night sky.

An escape.

The glass pane hazily reflected Jean-François as he came to stand behind her. She felt his warmth radiate over her skin though he wasn’t touching her yet. Drawn in, she leaned back, just a little, an invitation, an ouverture.

He trailed a single finger from her earlobe, down her neck, to her shoulder. And she shivered with longing. He gently swiped her hair away, and his lips replaced his finger, careful, precise kisses, inching towards the strap of her dress and sliding it aside.

“What does it feel like, striding into a gallery and taking whatever you want from the walls?”

“Calming. At that moment, I am utterly focused and in control. Then when I slip away with my prize, my blood begins to sizzle.”

“Is it still sizzling now?”

“Yes.”

He met her reflected gaze on the glass pane.

“Mine too,” she said.

She turned around in his arms, and he watched patiently as she put their glasses on a side table. Placing her hands upon his chest, she felt his sharp intake of breath, his rapid heartbeat. She slid her palms up to his neck, and his eyelids fluttered when her fingers delved into the locks at the back of his head. With a gentle push, she guided his lips to hers. He let her take the lead, modest and timid at first, then slowly yielding to instinct and hunger. When she opened her mouth to his, he cupped her cheek and leaned into her until her back pressed to the window. He kissed her with dedication, with utter focus, tasting and caressing her lips, intent on making her tingle all over. Heat flared through her, and she arched into the curve of his body bent over her.

Oh boy.

Eyes still closed, she broke the kiss for air and licked his taste on her lips.

“That was some grade-A kissing,” she whispered.

Jean-François laughed and pecked her forehead. “I like you.”

“Yeah? ‘cause I stroke your ego?”

“Because you’re honest.”

“Well, if I’m being honest I'd very much like you to sweep me off my feet again.”

“As you wish.”

In one smooth move, he grabbed her thighs and hiked her up on his hips. Betty squeaked and held onto him. He kissed her against the glass door, exploring her neck and cleavage, all lips and teeth and tongue. She wound her legs tighter around him, seeking friction to soothe the throbbing he’d triggered. He sucked in a breath and bucked his hips.

He carried her outside, to a nearby wooden chaise lounge and laid her on the striped cushion.

She expected him to flip up her skirt and pound, but he knelt beside the chair. He rubbed her ankles, then slid his hand up her leg to her knee. Betty’s breath quickened. She parted her legs. The ascension continued, his hand slipped underneath the hem of her skirt and up inside her thigh. He stopped inches from her underwear, and kissed her again. It was agony to have his hand so close to where she needed it. His mouth traveled to her breasts, he pulled down the bodice of her dress, just enough to access a nipple. Betty squirmed and keened, and finally his fingers slipped inside her knickers.

She looked like a Renaissance muse, lounging, with her arms over her head, one breast bare, and layers of fabric bunched about her waist. And he studied her as he sought the spots that made her sigh and cry. Her lewd noises accompanied the cicadas’ song. And she should’ve been ashamed to make such a wanton display, but the heat in his eyes was worth it.

This man could take anything he wanted, and he had chosen her.

She came embarrassingly fast.

He licked his fingers and grinned.

“Showoff,” she said again.

She grabbed his tie and pulled him over her. He laughed against her lips, and it hurt with how good it felt to share this joke, this joy.

She blindly unknotted his tie as he fumbled with his buttons. Unable to wait any longer, she cupped the tantalizing bulge in his trousers. He groaned and that filled her with pride.

He stood up to take off his trousers, and she made him recline on the chaise. With half-lidded eyes, he observed her straddling his legs. She admired him, as he had her. His hair was completely disheveled now. His open shirt revealed a lean, firm chest and taut stomach down which she dragged her fingernails. His cock twitched as she neared it. She teased the surrounding skin until he growled her name. She stroked him to full hardness, enjoying the way he hardened in her hand. Because of her.

And now, for the pièce de résistance. She rose to her knees, and Jean-François’s jaw went slack.  She had barely had time to enjoy his fingers, but she planned on savouring this. Slowly and with a long, luxuriating moan, she slid down every inch of him, wetting him to the root.

He gripped her hips, urging her to move. His chest heaved with panting breaths. She gorged herself on his lust and desperation. With every bounce, her dress slid lower down her torso.

She held onto the top of the seat for leverage, but she must have been too vigorous for the adjustable back suddenly collapsed. Betty yelped and Jean-François caught her.

“Crikey!” she said, pressing a hand to her heart.

“Are you hurt?”

“Scared me half to death, but I’m okay. You?”

“I’m fine.”

They looked at each other, then broke into a loud guffaw. Mirth and embarrassment heated her cheeks. She truly couldn’t stop laughing. Jean-François even teared up.

“You’re so beautiful when you laugh,” he said. It came out so naturally, it was almost reckless by his standards.

Her heart swelled, and she kissed him. He rolled on top of her, spurred on by this small shot of adrenaline.

Betty shivered; it was getting cold outside.

“Shall we go back inside?” he asked.

“If you don’t mind.”

They picked up their clothes and closed the patio door. With a remote control, he turned on the fireplace.

He picked up his glass of wine from where she’d left them. He drank while watching her undress and lie down on the plush carpet, in the orange glow of the flames. With a beckoning smile, she extended a hand toward him. He removed the last of his clothes and crawled over her.

Skin to skin, bodies entwined, they moved together. And suddenly it was so tender and so very real. A leisurely give-and-take of pleasure. Delight and satisfaction mirrored in each other’s face. They gasped and moaned and laughed, then fell silent, foreheads together, fingers entwined, staring in each other’s eyes, toeing the edge of bliss.

Even after climaxing, they didn’t part. Jean-François buried his face in her neck and held her even closer.

Betty looked up at the stolen painting, and, for once, didn’t feel the pull to lose herself in its landscape. She closed her eyes and stroked his hair and thought nothing would ever be this perfect.

*

Eventually, hunger and thirst caught up with them. They put their underwear back on, and Betty borrowed Jean-François’s shirt.

They ate, sitting on the carpet, their legs still entwined. The wine, the cheeses, the meat, everything was unbelievably tasteful. She licked her fingers clean and refilled their glasses. Jean-François slouched down, head against the couch, unwound like she had never seen him before.

“Betty, do you still want to go back to London in time for your morning shift?”

“Goodness no.”

“Good. I know an excellent restaurant in Vienna. It’s inside a tropical greenhouse, you’ll love it.”

“Vienna?”

“How is that for a second date?”

[booitislife]

Let’s Talk About Periods

My period is horrible. I have heard people who don’t get periods say: “It can’t be that bad.” Yes, yes it can. Some studies suggest that cramps can be a worse pain for women than a heart attack. My period technically starts a few days before bleeding. I get a period flu. A period flu is a few days of unexplained illness and flu-like symptoms (low grade fever, chills, etc) a few days before your period starts. I didn’t used to get this, but my body decided I needed this. The first time I got it, my doctor put me on antibiotics thinking I had a sinus infection. (She is proactive about fevers because I am a transplant patient).

My minor symptoms are bloating, diarrhea, lethargy, sometimes headaches, I get irritable, my breasts hurt for a few days, and some other lesser inconveniences. However - my biggest two issues? Pain and bleeding.

Bleeding - I bleed for eight to ten days every month. Usually the first one and last two of the cycle are light. I tend to have one or two very heavy days, depending on the month, and when I say heavy - I mean clots. Lots of them. I will soak through a ten hour pad in less than two hours. I have lost so many pairs of underwear. I now have “period underwear” that is darker or just old so I don’t care if it gets stained. The rest of the days are moderate.

Pain - This is the worst part of my period. I start cramping on day one and I usually don’t stop until the second to last day of my period. When I say it’s bad - I mean excruciating. I was once taken to the hospital by my mom because I couldn’t breathe right during cramps. The doctors rushed me in, thinking I was having a miscarriage, a burst cyst, or maybe appendicitis. They did lab work and ultrasounds. While I was waiting they gave me fentanyl, which is 80-100x stronger than morphine. I could still feel the pain. It dulled it, but didn’t negate it. The doctor came back in shock - there was nothing wrong. No miscarriage, no cysts, and my appendix looked great. These were just the cramps I was going to have to live with. I was given pain meds for every month - 20 - to deal with that I’m going through.

I have a few period journal entries that I would like to post. If you don’t want to read, please scroll down past the blue writing. Sadly, these are only four of dozens of examples.

September 17, 2020 - Day 5 of my period.

Woke up with horrible cramps that were so bad I was shaking. Slept on the couch again because I was tossing and turning so much from the pain. Didn’t fall asleep until nearly 4. Passed a clot which, usually by day 5, will alleviate some of the pain, but it didn’t. The exhaustion took over and I fell asleep until about 11:30, but when I woke up I was so tired I could barely move.

November 16, 2020 - Day 4 of my period.

I could not sleep last night. The pain is intense and comes in waves. The bleeding started to get heavy a little after 7AM. It’s a little after 8:30 when I’m writing this and I have passed 2 large clots and probably 5-6 smaller ones. I soaked through 1 pad already. I’m going back to bed and hopefully sleep for a few hours. Woke up with horrible cramps. Haven’t been able to get out of bed. Managed to get some food down to take my antibiotic, but that’s it. I am exhausted and the pain is radiating to my knees.

February 9, 2021 - Day 3 of my period.

I finally fell asleep around three, but I woke up a little after five with searing cramps. They went down my legs and around my back. I could barely think straight. I took meds, tried meditation, used a heating pad. Nothing helped, I finally passed a big clot and the pain subsided. I moved to the couch and was almost asleep when the pain started again around 9. I did everything the same - meds, meditation, heat. I’m going to try to get some more sleep.

April 14, 2021 - Day 2 of my period.

Having trouble getting to sleep. After taking pain meds and using pain cream on my back, the pain is just getting worse. I almost fell asleep, but woke up in pain. It’s 1:30 AM, and I am heading downstairs to lay on the couch with my heating pad. I can’t get comfortable and the pain is getting worse. It’s 5AM. I still can’t sleep. The pain is very bad. I just want to sleep through it and I can’t. Couldn’t sleep. The pain has somehow gotten worse over the afternoon. As of right now, I have pain meds in my system, pain cream on my back and abdomen, I took a very hot bath, and I am now laying with a heating pad. I am still in searing pain. I can’t do this much longer. I burst into tears a few minutes ago. Why won’t someone help me?

I have asked doctors, so many times, to have a hysterectomy. At first I was told I was too young. Then? I was told my husband would need to sign off on such a procedure. My husband was more than ready. If anything, he was just overtly appalled that he would have to do that, or that any doctor worth there degree would ask that. He asked what it would take for him to get a vasectomy. They said just call a urologist. “Would she have to sign off?” He asked indicating me, and when he was told no he said: “This is a ridiculous double standard. booitislife can make her own choices.”

I have seen 6 OBGYN’s in the last 8 years. The first told me I was too young. She offered a procedure called an Endometrial ablation. It does greatly reduce the bleeding issues. However, I wasn’t really worried about the bleeding - I was worried about the pain. She told me it wouldn’t really do anything for the pain, so I said no. I have to be careful with my transplanted kidney and any kind of anesthesia can be dangerous.

The second OBGYN was a man in the same office who was also conducting a cervical biopsy on me. I’ll never forgot the intense flash of pain and how I nearly yelled, but I did start to cry. According to my husband there was blood spray on the floor as the doctor looked up at me and said in a condescending voice - “That doesn’t hurt! Come on!” And then he laughed. He wouldn’t even discuss a hysterectomy. From that biopsy I learned I have pre-cancer on my cervix and underwent a LEEP procedure. They use a hoop wire heated by electric current to scrape off the parts that could become dangerous.

The third was about a half an hour away at a bigger hospital. He was the guy who did an endometrial biopsy on me. Different than the cervical biopsy, this was just a precaution after something looked off. He wasn’t as condescending as the others, and that biopsy came back normal. However, he wouldn’t do the hysterectomy either. He said I should go to a doctor in a hospital that has a transplant team - seemed reasonable.

Between the 3rd and 4th doctores I had been doing my research. I went to my nephrologist that was keeping track of my transplanted kidney, and told him about my struggles. He said he saw no issue with me getting a hysterectomy and, in fact, I should. He even confirmed with the current head of transplant from the hospital I had my transplant surgery in. So, I was off - feeling more confident. This new OBGYN was a doctor at my transplant hospital.

The fourth OBGYN - or as I call him “The Biggest Mother Fucker I had the displeasure to meet”. He dismissed a lot of my concerns quickly, and talked to me as if I didn’t know anything. Then, he asked if I wanted to try an IUD. Now, I have nothing against anyone who gets an IUD. If that is for you, and it’s working - awesome. I know my brain. I know my brain would focus on everything bad an IUD could do. I politely explained this to my doctor. This wasn’t an option for me. My panic would go crazy. He wrote some things down and told me he wanted to to a procedure just to check for any cancer cells that could be hiding, but (and oh yes, there was a big but) he would only do the procedure if I signed yes to getting a Mirana IUD. I had to sign a consent form before he would even schedule the procedure. So, I did. Then I canceled my procedure and never went to see him again. Oh, also, this asshole handed me pro-life pamphlets on my way out.

The fifth OBGYN - more trusting, no results. At this point I was exhausted. I was tired of trying and being let down, fighting to get an appointment. This OBGYN was a woman and she worked in the same office as the second guy I went to. I laid it all out for her. I told her what the previous doctor did. I told her about the pain, about not being able to barely move. I poured out my heart and soul to her. She empathized, then told me she did not feel comfortable doing my hysterectomy. Because the uterus is close to the transplanted kidney, she thought I needed a specialist. A type of doctor called an OBGYN oncologist. As luck would have it, there was one on staff at my transplant hospital. I waited and waited for an appointment. I waited for over a year. Finally they called and said they were just too booked. They had one doctor who did it, and it was most dire cases first. I understand that. So, I wasn’t angry or frustrated this time. The office at the hospital asked me if I would like to see another OBGYN on staff. I said as long as it wasn’t OBGYN Biggest Mother Fucker I had the Displeasure to Meet. I asked if it could be a woman and we set it up.

Okay, the last one for now. The OBGYN they set me up with was a resident. She seemed nice at first. We sat and talked about my pain, the exhaustion. She wanted to talk birth control options. Great. Her advice to me was to stay away from the shot and the implant. She agreed about the IUD not being right for me. So, she said she wanted me to start talking the pill. I stopped her. I had been on the pill twice. Once when I was 16, another time when I was 24. Two different kinds. Both times I had side effects. The most prominent was this intense stomach cramp. I would get headaches, nausea, extreme weight gain. I couldn’t live my life. I told this doctor that and she didn’t even look at me in the eye when she said...... “Well, I won’t even consider a hysterectomy until you’re on six full months of birth control.” It didn’t matter what other symptoms I had. It didn’t matter what I was and wasn’t comfortable with, not really. So, here I am, looking for lucky number 7 when it comes to OBGYN’s.

As I sit here tonight, losing a lot of blood through clots, being so tired I can’t think, but in too much pain to sleep. I found myself so angry. About an hour before I started writing this I had a pretty big panic attack. I haven’t had one of those in a long time. But - Tuesday night I slept for three hours. Last night I slept about five. Tonight it is almost 3 AM and I’m still awake. The pain is exhausting, but also keeps me awake. It also makes me tense. So, parts of my body started tingling. Instead of my logical side taking over and saying, “Yeah, you have been clenching for four days. You’re gonna feel odd things.” I convinced myself I was dying and had to take medicine. I am so tired on a deep level. I don’t want to have to go through this anymore, and I don’t know if that makes me sound selfish... I just.., I DON’T WANT TO GO THROUGH THIS ANYMORE.

So, here we are. If you experience cramps like I do, I am so truly sorry. You don’t deserve them, and if I could do something to help you - I would in a heartbeat. People should not have to live like this. Doctors should listen to us and hear when we say that something like this is, genuinely, detrimental to our lives. If we want permanent birth control whether it be our tubes tied, an ablation, or a hysterectomy - it’s our body. We should decide what we can do with it. Please don’t stop fighting. Please don’t stop advocating for yourself. If you ever need to talk, I’m here. Have a good night, anyone who reads this. Thank you for reading this long-winded rant. Take care of yourself.