#i appreciate you all and your endless patience with my slow ass

[insurged]

just a quick fyi, i'm off to my sister's wedding in new york tomorrow and will not be back until 11/11. i should be much more active in general when i return. ( ´ ▽ ` )

[pale-silver-comb]

So I know absolutely nothing about Leverage except what I've been seeing you post lately and I have to admit you're making it look tempting to watch! Can I ask what are some of your favorite things about the show/reasons you would suggest people watch it? And is there really a poly relationship that is canon?

Okay. Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay. I am going to do my best not to just “asdfghkjl” at you and answer coherently.

In a nutshell, Leverage is about 5 people. 4 are criminals (Parker, Hardison, Eliot and Sophie) with different and unique skill-sets and 1 is an ex-insurance investigator (Nate) who, at one point or another in his career, has tracked down (or at least attempted to) the other 4. The whole show is essentially: man reluctantly reforms 4 criminals to use their criminal powers for good and 4 criminals move into man’s life and stubbornly refuse to leave because, goddammit, now they have morals. 

I’ve got a lot of favourite things about the show but the main ones are as follows:

1. Found family. And I’m not talking about loners who come together to fight crime and happen to co-exist to the point where they realise they happen to have found themselves a family. I mean, Nate and Sophie are the Drunk Uncle and Wine Aunt who somehow become Mom and Dad to 3 beautiful criminal children. Mom and Dad love their criminal babies and the kids love them (as well as each other, but we’ll come to that in a moment). You get amazing family moments such as: Mom and Dad packing the kids lunch before sending them out to kick corporate greed’s ass; Mom and Dad giving the kids ridiculously expensive and personal Christmas presents causing their most Grumpy Kid to go very very quiet and soft as he runs off to gleefully play with his new murder toy; the kids interrupting Mom and Dad’s big Movie Style Kiss to ask if they can please keep their new underground layer and huffing and puffing when Dad tells them no.

2. Found family: the OT3 edition. To answer your question, the OT3 is indeed canon, confirmed by the creator. Now, usually, “confirmed by the creator” infuriates me because most of the time it’s a way for a creator to be seen as “progressive” without doing anything to actually be progressive. That isn’t the case here. The OT3 are built up carefully and while it is obvious the creators didn’t originally intend for all 3 of them to become a relationship in the romantic sense, by mid-season 5 we are given a very clear picture of where Parker, Hardison and Eliot are heading in their relationship. There aren’t any kisses at the end to signal this but there are solid marriage vows in not only one but two episodes. (And by marriage vows I mean literal equivalents of marriage vows: “for better or worse” and “’til death do us part”. I’m not even exaggerating). The OT3 also doesn’t need explicit romantic narratives to convey how much they love each other. Their love is laced through the whole show, from the way they teach each other things to the way they respond to each other and work as a unit. The way they fiercely protect and admire each other. Like someone once said, if you need characters to kiss or say I love you to let the audience know they love each other, you are writing them wrong. 

Aside from that, each of the parings in the OT3 are just. Gah. They are so well done, with friendship being the solid basis for them all. The creators never expect the audience to assume anything about them or fill in the gaps. They give us their relationships on screen and reference many things off-screen to show us how these relationships continue to build in between episodes.

Hardison and Parker are a canon couple and date in the show: it’s approached slowly and they are so goddamned sweet. They are basically every fluffy slow-burn trope with a healthy dash of mutual pining in the mix. They are basically that quote “love is patient, love is kind”. (I would like to add their romance never becomes the focus of the show or overrides the importance of any other relationship they have with the other characters, especially Eliot.)

Hardison and Eliot are the Old Married Couple and from day one are already bickering and looking at each other/making comments that are found in every UST fic ever (not to mention Hardison has a very good knack for making Eliot grin like a little kid, when usually he’s basically an Angry Little Chef Man). They argue, they play, and love each other plain as day. 

Parker and Eliot are more subtle but every bit as wonderful. They have an unspoken connection and understand each other on a level no-one else can. Parker and Eliot are not good with giving themselves over to affection for different reasons (and Hardison plays a central role in helping them realise it’s okay to want it and have it- that boy has endless patience) but there is something so beautiful in the way the two of them come together on their own and develop their own special bond that works for them. Parker and Eliot are that trope where the characters don’t need to speak to understand each other perfectly. They just do. Their love language is a lot of the time non-verbal but speaks volumes. (Parker also likes to annoy the hell out of Eliot and Eliot....just.....lets...her. Because he’s soft. The softest, grumpiest boy.) 

I could go into so much depth for each pairing and their dynamics as a 3 but that's for another post.

3. Subverting stereotypes. There is the occasional hiccup in the show regarding stereotypes but ultimately, Leverage gets an A+ when it comes to writing characters and making them 3 dimensional people who are not defined by certain characteristics or events. Nate could so easily fall into the White Man Pain trope where he uses the trauma of losing his kid as a reason as to why he is entitled to act like a dick. Nate is a dick but he doesn’t use his pain to excuse it and I appreciate that. Hardison is a black man who is soft and nurturing. Easily the most empathetic and patient of the group. He’s nerdy, an actual genius, and has the biggest heart of all the characters. Nate is maybe the glue but Hardison is definitely the heart. Media’s usual aggressive, amongst other, racist stereotypes can fuck right off. Parker is canonically autistic (I am sure this was confirmed by one of the creators) and she is not defined by it. It’s not written as some kind of singular personality trait. It’s part of what makes up Parker but it’s only one facet of who she is and not once is her actions, thoughts or feelings treated like a joke. Sometimes people don’t understand why she does and says the things she does but it’s met with patience and fondness over the course of the show. Equally, it’s not met with over-caution. Parker is just Parker. No-one tries to change her. The other nice thing is Hardison, who always makes sure Parker knows she’s amazing because of who she is and not in spite of it. Finally, Sophie is in her 40s. She’s not treated like she’s past her prime. Ever. She’s sexy, smart and never is she pitted against or compared to Parker (who is younger) for anything. Sophie is amazing and there’s never even a conversation of “I may be older but I am still *insert adjective typically associated with younger women here*”. Sophie is possibly the first female character I’ve ever seen who isn’t just unapologetic about her age but has never had to apologise for her age. It’s a non-issue and that’s that. The women on the show are written so well, right down to secondary characters and it’s beyond refreshing.  

4.) It’s just fun. The show has a “monster of the week” type format. Except instead of a ghoul or a ghost, the monster is some corrupt wealthy and powerful individual or organisation. The show draws on real-life individuals to do this and therefore closely parallels real-life people and events. It addresses important political, economical, social and environmental issues while at the same time remaining fun and light-hearted. The characters constantly get the chance to play dress up and by GOD do they have fun with it. You get to watch Eliot beat up bad guys in the most delightful of ways, usually after a witty non-sequitur and with a weapon you’d never think could be a weapon. The dialogue and back and forth between the characters is everything. And finally - my favourite thing- the team can never resist striking a dramatic pose after they’ve taken down the bad guy, making sure the bad guy sees them. I mean, they COULD just walk away, satisfied they’ve taken the person down, but nope. They gotta be dramatic bitches 24/7 and pose like they are models for every single month of this year’s Criminal Calendar.  

5.) Competence Porn. So. Much. Competence Porn.  

Honestly, I could list a thousand reasons for why Leverage is amazing but to list them would to be spoiling so many amazing moments you’d get to discover for the first time on your own if you do choose to watch it. It’s the kind of show you can watch with an eagle-eye and sink your teeth into. But it’s also the kind of show if, you would prefer, put on in the background for something entertaining while you do something else. Each episode is about the job at hand but it’s made up of so many moments between the characters that show how much the creators and writers care about them. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll do whatever it is you do when something Soft and Wonderful happens that makes your heart melt. I am so beyond grateful for Leverage. It’s everything I always wanted in a show. Nearly every show I’ve watched in the past 10 years has disappointed me in some way, usually either because the writers run out of steam or characters who I love are treated poorly or given some kind of unnecessary “shock value” arc. Leverage doesn’t do that. Leverage is what it says on the bottle. Fandom isn’t something I joined because I needed canon fix-its. Fandom only enhances and celebrates an already excellent canon. 

[backtobackbakubabe]

Speak Easy Part 7

Bakugo x Reader, Dabi x Reader

Words : 3515

Masterlist

*Smutty this chapter*

Reader has a siren quirk and has spent the past several years of her life as a captive being experimented on by “heroes” Now that she’s out she needs protection and safe place to heal. Who will be the one to put her pieces back together?

Words with ‘this’ is dialogue written in her journal rather than said out loud and and words with ~this~ is dialogue said in sign language rather than out loud.

************************************************************************

“Please… I want to feel something. I need you to- I need you to make me forget, even it’s just for a little while.” His thumb was rubbing over your cheekbone. “Just don’t treat me like I’m fragile. I’m so sick of this numb and broken feeling.”

You knew you weren’t thinking clearly. You knew there was a very good possibility you’d regret this later. But right now… all you wanted was for Dabi to drown out all the thoughts in your head. You wanted to be consumed by him, wanted him to work you over until this numb feeling in your chest went away.

You expected him to be aggressive and he didn’t disappoint. His lips were on you, kissing and biting any skin exposed to him and when that wasn’t enough, his hands literally tore your shirt to pieces. His lips immediately connecting to your collarbone and trailing down. He spoke to you between kisses, his voice husky with need. “Red means stop. Yellow means slow down. Green means good to go. Repeat it back to me.”

He sucked one of your nipples into his mouth and your back arched to push your breasts closer to him. His hand heated up and slapped the tit that wasn’t currently in his mouth. “I said repeat it back to me.”

You sucked in a breath, “Red i-is stop.” His hand came down to tease your clit through your underwear. “Y-yellow is slow down.” He started to rub firm circles, making you moan in appreciation. “Green is-“ He began to suck a bruise into your neck.

“Green is what?”

A tear ran down your cheek. “Green is… AH! Good!”

“Good girl.” He pulled your underwear down your legs and it wasn’t until then that you remembered your period. You weakly started to push his hand away as it traveled up your thigh. “I haven’t forgotten y/n. I also don’t care. I’ve blood on my hands before.”

He shoved two fingers into your sopping entrance and started to pump them in a hard but slow pace. He had only just begun, and you were already beginning to feel blissed out. You didn’t know how pent up you had been until he had you unraveling at even the slightest touch.

Your nails dug into his shoulder which had him chuckling. “Oh baby… I haven’t even gotten started yet and you’re already losing your mind.” His fingers quickened their pace and his other hand grabbed the hair at the back of your head forcing you to look at him. I want those eyes open and on me.” You shivered at the sound of his voice. It wasn’t a suggestion. “Do you understand?”

You nodded your head as you stared into his blue eyes. Afraid your voice would give away how desperate you were. He wasn’t satisfied with that though. He tugged on your hair, “Use your words, I want to hear that sweet voice of yours.” He put his forehead on yours his nose brushing against yours. “Now let’s try that again… Do you understand?”

You whined as his fingers started to slow down. “Y-yes..”

“Yes… what?” His lips ghosted over yours while the palm of his hand began pressing into your clit.

“Yes sir…” Your fingers twisted into his white hair trying to pull him closer to you to close the distance between your lips.

He didn’t budge. Keeping his lips right on top of yours but not touching. “A little louder baby I can’t hear you.”

You could feel your orgasm starting to build and your eyes instinctively closed as you let your head fall back against the mirror. A needy moan slipping past your lips.

Dabi growled and bit your nipple hard, pulling on it with his teeth. Your eyes shot open and you screamed. “YES SIR! Ah… Dabi

He cooed in your ear, “Shhh, such a quick leaner. Look at you fucking falling apart on just my fingers.” He curled his fingers making you gasp in pleasure as he managed to hit that spot over and over again. “Good girls get to cum. Have you been a good girl y/n?”

You were panting now, tears leaking out of the corner of your eyes. “Yes! Oh god please let me come daddy!”

The sound that left Dabi’s lips was practically feral. “Daddy huh? Well Daddy is going to fucking ruin this pussy. After I’m done with you, no one else will be ever be good enough. I’ll make you cum again and again until the only though in that empty little head is ‘thank you daddy’.” His fingers picked up the pace and you felt yourself tighten around them.

“That’s it baby. Show daddy how much you like it. I want to hear how much you love Daddy’s fingers!”

You cried out as you felt your orgasm take over. Waves of pleasure taking over you. You didn’t even know what words left your mouth as you babbled in bliss.

You felt Dabi’s body heat tear away from you momentarily before hearing the shower turn on. Before you had time to react you were scooped up into his arms and he was walking you into the hot spray. You didn’t know when he had, had time to take his clothes off but here he was buck ass naked pulling your back to his bare chest.

There was a seat in there that he had gotten for you. He took a seat and pulled you into his lap. His lips found the juncture where you shoulder met you neck. One of his hands came up to fondle you tit, fingers tweaking your nipple while the other squeezed your hip. “Color?”

You leaned back into him letting your head rest on his shoulder, “Green.”

The hot spray of the shower was hitting your chest and abdomen. You hummed in pleasure as he continued to lavish your neck in kisses.

Then with absolutely no warming he was shoving himself into you in one long hard thrust. The only hint of patience being when he stopped to let you adjust to his size. You screamed and your nails dug into his thighs. “That’s it let me hear you.” He slowly dragged his cock out to the tip before slamming you back on top of it. It was almost painful but in the best kind of way. “Let me hear that sweet little siren song huh? Let me hear the voice that’s so powerful it had a whole hero agency scared shitless.” He thrust into you again his lips at the shell of your ear. “I want to hear the voice that make men crumble to their knees… and I want to know that it’s singing my praises.”

His pace was slow but aggressive. You could already feel your second orgasm building and you couldn’t hold back your moans even if you tried. They only spurred him on.

Suddenly he was standing and flipping you around, so you were bent over holding the chair for support. His hips snapped into you as he picked up the pace. A hot hand came down on your ass cheek before snaking down to your front and playing with your clit again. “Ah fuck… yes. Thank you daddy. Please don’t stop! I’m gonna I-I’m gonna… AH!”

“You’re doing so great baby. You take my cock like you were made for it. No one could take this cock like you do. You’re so good… Cum for me. Come on you can do it, I know you can.”

You rockers your hips back into him a few times before gasping as you started to clench around him. “Oh baby you’re so fucking tight. God you feel so good.” You came even harder than you had the first time and felt your arms give out. You would have fallen forward if Dabi hadn’t caught you.

“Oh no baby doll. I’m not done with you yet… I heard all things, good or bad, come in threes… So, what do you say?” His dick that was still in you twitched. “Think you have another orgasm in you?” He chuckled when you only whined in response. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

He pulled out of you only long enough to turn you around to face him. You couldn’t stop your eyes from roaming over his naked body as this was the first time you had seen it. You thought you saw something that looked like insecurity briefly flash in his eyes, but you didn’t have enough time to ponder it because he was manhandling you once again.

He leaned your back against the shower wall lips finding yours. His fingers ghosted a trail from the side of your breast, down you side, until he reached your knee. He hooked a hand under it before pulling it up until your ankle was resting over his shoulder. He continued to kiss you as he repeated this process to your other leg.

The stretch in your muscles was bordering on uncomfortable as he basically folded you in half like a fucking taco. You didn’t have time to complain though as he thrust his throbbing dick back into you.

It was softer this time though. His forehead leaned on yours as he slowly fucked into you. “What’d I say about keeping your eyes open sweetheart. I need you to look at me. Now open up those pretty eyes for me huh?”

You bit your lip and blushed as you looked into eyes. “Oh no need to be shy now.” His hand came up to push some of your wet hair out of your face. “You are so-“ His hips started to stutter a little. “Fucking perfect.” You wrapped your arms around his neck. “I don’t want you to ever feel like you are broken, or weak. You are a fucking fighter, you are so strong.”

A broken moan left his lips and you could tell he was almost at his limit. He began to eratically pump into you, hitting that hidden spot inside you every… single… time.

“Please Dabi, I can’t. It’s too much!” You struggled to keep your eyes open but you somehow managed.

“Yes you CAN! COLOR?”

Your hands gripped into his shoulder and you accidentally activated your quirk. You closed your eyes before you could connected with his thoughts, but there was nothing you could do about the skin to skin contact. You were hit with not only your own pleasure but his as well and it immediately overwhelmed the both of you. It was like an endless cycle of pleasure feeding into each other.

“Oh my FUCK! GREEN, GREEN, GREEN! SHIT GREEN!” Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your legs shook violently with your intense orgasm.

He growled loudly as he released inside of you. “Shit I’m cumming. You took me by surprise you fucking naughty girl.” He pumped into you a few more times before stilling inside of you.

The only sound for the next few minutes was that of your labored breaths. His fingers traced patterns into your skin. You hissed when he finally pulled out of you. He put you feet back on the floor but had to keep his hands on you to keep you steady.

He reached behind him and grabbed a bottle of body wash. You felt like putty in his hands. Letting him clean you while massaging your sore muscles. It wasn’t until the water started to grow cold that he wrapped you in a towel and carried you back to your room. You fell asleep sometime after getting dressed for bed. The weight of the past few days finally lifting off of your shoulders.

****

Dabi pulled your sleeping form on top of him slipping his warm hands on your lower back, much like he had the other night. You nuzzled into his neck and sighed. Your small hands gripping his shirt in your sleep.

Later that night he stared at the ceiling as his fingers carded through your hair. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew he didn’t need to read too much into what had just happened between the two of you. You had literally asked him for a distraction. If that’s what you needed, then he’d gladly give it to you. He just hoped you didn’t regret it.

He knew this was temporary. He knew soon enough you’d leave here and end up with someone like Bakugo. The thought left a bad taste in his mouth. He saw the way you looked at each other. There was history there that he couldn’t ignore. Part of him knew you deserved to have someone like Bakugo at you side.

He couldn’t afford to let himself get too attached to you. He was already too close. Any closer and he would never let you leave. He needed to be careful.

*

The next day you woke up to an empty bed, which surprised you because you almost always woke up before Dabi… Oh shit Dabi. Your mind replayed last night’s events and you felt your face heat up. You had asked him to make you feel something and he delivered… three times.

You grudgingly rolled out of bed and headed towards the kitchen. The whole way there you practiced what you would say in your head. You expected him to find him sitting in the kitchen with his cocky smirk eating breakfast. You expected sly comments and maybe even an attempt at round 2 on the kitchen counter.

What you didn’t expect was to walk into an empty kitchen. You shrugged thinking maybe he was in his room doing only God knows what.

You headed to the pantry to grab stuff to make breakfast but saw a note written in the most childish handwriting pinned to the fridge.

“Had to run some errands. Try not to die while I’m gone, and don’t leave the house. There’s a phone in the office for emergencies. – Dabi”

You couldn’t stop the feeling of dread that washed over you. He wasn’t here. You were alone. He hadn’t even asked you, he just left.

You nervously made your way around the house checking every single widow and door to make sure they were locked and secured. Your nerves were all over the place. You were definitely giving him a piece of your mind when he got home. You momentarily debated if you should call Katsuki, but after what happened last night you didn’t know if you could face him. You refused to feel guilty for sleeping with Dabi, but you did at least acknowledge that it would hurt Katsuki if he found out, and that made you sad.

You didn’t know what to do with yourself. You hadn’t had a free day to yourself in a very long time. You used to love days like this. You’d usually order a bunch of take out, pop open a bottle of wine and binge watch TV.

Your circumstances might be a little different now. You may not be able to order take out, but you knew Dabi had a wine cellar and a TV. You snooped around the kitchen before you found some frozen pizzas. This had the potential to be a good fay after all. Maybe a break was what you needed. You still had some lingering anger with him about the whole drowning fiasco, and it your frustration only grew with his little disappearing act.

You didn’t know how long to cook the pizza, so you just guessed. You chuckled at the thought of Dabi coming home to you burning the house down trying to make a pizza.

You took what looked like a very expensive bottle of wine and plopped your ass on the couch. You could watch whatever you wanted, and it didn’t matter because Dabi wasn’t here to be grumpy about it.

You were one pizza, two bottles of wine, and three seasons into your free day, and you were loving it. You hadn’t felt so… normal in a long time.

You were putting a second pizza into the over when you heard the front door slam close.

You held your breath and grabbed the closest thing to you which was a spatula. You held it close to your chest as you slowly rounded the corner. You practically ran straight into a hard wall of muscle. You immediately started swatting at them with a drunken war cry.

“OW! Shit stop it you fucking gremlin it’s just me!” Dabi yanked the spatula from your grasp and used it to swat at your ass. “Seriously you’re in a kitchen full of knives and shit and your first instinct was to grab the spatula.”

You yelped as he swatted at your ass again. “Heyy you’re lucky it wasn’t *hiccup* a knife or I’d ‘ave stabbed you.”

“Oh yeah? I’d be more afraid of you stabbing yourself with how drunk you are.” He took a look around and smirked, “Looks like you’ve had a good day.”

The timer for the pizza went off and you practically jumped out of your skin. “Oh! Pizza! You want some?”

Dabi shook his head, “Unlike you, I’ve had a very, very bad day. I think I’m going to head to bed early.”

Your lip stuck out in a pout, “Oh come ooooooon. You’ve been gone *hiccup* all day!” You lunged at him and wrapped your arms around him. You noticed him wince and you pulled away to see your shirt was now covered in blood… his blood. The sight was nearly enough to sober you up on the spot.

“Dabi! What the hell? What happened?”

He tried to take a step away from you, “Nothing, some of my staples just ripped out. It’s not a big deal.”

You grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it up. “Staples my ass! Dabi you’ve been stabbed!”

He groaned, “I’m fine! It’s not even that bad. Just a flesh wound.” The smell of smoke came from the oven, “Please take out the pizza before you burn the house down.”

“The pizza! Shit hold on.” You took a step towards the oven but came back and pointed at him. “Don’t. Move. I’ll be right back.”

He wanted to be irritated as he watched you skip off towards the oven. You were a cute drunk. A stupid drunk, but cute all the same. He watched you reach in to grab the pizza without any oven mits like an idiot, “Y/N! Stop! You’re going to burn yourself.”

He hissed through his teeth as he pushed through the pain to shove you away from the oven. You wobbled a little before your eyes settled back on Dabi. “Oops.” You giggled and put on the oven mits and took out the pizza. It was a little charred in some places, but you didn’t seem to mind. “Okay! Game plan… We eat pizza until I’m not drunk and then I sew you up.”

Dabi took a seat in a high bar stool at the kitchen island and you hopped up on the counter to sit practically between his legs. “That sounds like a terrible idea. I can handle it. I told you it’s not that bad.”

You took a huge bite of pizza, “Well if it’s not that bad then it should be something I can handle then.” Dabi opened his mouth to protest but you cut him off by shoving a piece of pizza in in his face. “Nope! No negotiations. Law number eleven accept help when it’s offered!”

He rolled his eyes as he took the slice from you. “You’re fucking stubborn you know that?”

“I am well aware. Now you going to tell me about how you got stabbed?”

He avoided eye contact and nibbled at his pizza. “Nope. That’s between me and the dumbass who was stupid enough to do it.”

You hadn’t expected him to tell you, but it still irked you that he was hiding things from you. “Law number twelve. No lying.”

Dabi could hear the hurt in your voice and he sighed. “I’m not lying, I’m just not telling you.”

You glared at him, “Not telling me is just a lie of omission!”

He brushed your hair out of your face, “Did you learn that in hero school.”

You pressed your cheek into his hand. “Will you please let me know the next time you decide to leave? It was kind of scary being by myself.”

He felt kind of bad for leaving without saying anything but he couldn’t risk you finding out what he was up too. He gave you a smirk, “Aw did you miss me?”

Your eyes looked into his and without any hesitation, “Yes.”

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. “I’ll compromise with you. I’ll let you bandage my little cut, but I promise it doesn’t need stitches.”

You smiled and tried to hop off the counter. Your equilibrium was still a little off though because you ended up in Dabi’s lap. He smirked, “After all this time, still falling for me huh?”

*******************************************************************

Tags: tags: @falling4fandoms @wifunozomi @here-in-never-land @whore-for-anime@klecksstorys @aurorahoneybuns @theunknownrandom @insane-without-delirium @frenchsfryys @officiallydarkgeek @neofixcs @music-is-all-i-need @katsuki-bakubabe @unadulteratedtastemakerpoetry @dabislittlemouse@aimee1602 @pinkhatlizzy @kunaigirlx44 @nii-sanfucker

[nothoughtsonlynat]

Human (Natasha Romanoff)

Human: Chapter 1

A/N: Troyes, France is 6 hours ahead of NYC so 7pm there is 1pm in NYC. For the sake of this fic we’re going to pretend that the Battle of New York lasted quite a few hours.

*This is my first ever fic and I wrote it at 3am so bear with me

WARNINGS: swearing; mentions of weapons; violence; panic attack; anxiety; my crappy writing; and I think that’s it (lmk if there’s anything I should add)

Barcelona, Spain; January, 2012:

The repetitive ticking of the clock registered in my brain before my eyes even opened. I didn’t need that clock to know what time it was, of course. It was 4:30 am— the same time I've woken up everyday for the past twenty-five years of my life. I no longer need to wake up this early, yet it’s a habit so deeply engrained in my framework that it’s seemingly unbreakable. I roll out of bed and make my way into the dingy kitchen with light footsteps. With some quick math I figured that I got barely two hours of sleep last night, but that’s more than usual. I started the coffee machine and asked with a sigh, “Would you like some coffee or are you just going to lurk in the corner?”

The leather-clad stranger with an eyepatch stepped up to the kitchen island opposite of me and responded, “I wouldn’t mind a cup. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you knew I was here.”

“Well, you know what they say about old habits. You got a name?”

“You can call me Fury. We have a lot to talk about, Eight.” I slid him a mug of cheap coffee and gestured for him to take a seat. 

“Then we’d better get started so you can get the hell out of my apartment.” He simply chuckled in response and I could already feel my patience wavering.

Two Hours Later:

“Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division? Really, dude?”

“Yeah, it’s a mouthful. Trust me I know.”

“I’m sorry that you came all this way for nothing, Fury, but there’s no way in hell I'm working for some government spy circus.”

“It’s technically an extra-governmental spy agency-“

“Doesn’t matter. I’m not joining,” I said, cutting him off.

“So, you’re just gonna hop from one shitty apartment to the next until you die? That doesn’t seem like a great life.”

“Better than the one I lived before.”

“You aren’t the person to live in hiding. You’re the person who thrives in the action and lives to kick ass, and we both know it.” When I didn’t respond he continued, “I’ll leave you my card. When you change your mind, which you will, you’ll know where to find me. You don’t have to be the bad guy anymore, Eight.” With that he slid off the stool and left my apartment, leaving me with nothing but my rapidly spiraling thoughts and a black business card.

Troyes, France; May, 2012:

It had been four months since Director Fury came to my apartment in Barcelona. We’d kept in contact and he hasn’t given up on me joining S.H.I.E.L.D.. I'm living in my third apartment since then. Wow…those landlords must really hate me. I was watching the seven o’clock news when I saw something that made me choke on my Cheerios. “An alien invasion?! What the fu-” My Cheerio-muffled exclamation was interrupted by the ring of my burner phone. “Hello?”

“Eight, you watched the news recently?”

“Uh yeah, I'm watching it now. You fighting aliens now, Nicky?”

“Okay first of all, I told you to stop calling me that. Second, yes… aliens. I’m forming a team of…extraordinary people to help protect against these threats and they could really use a hand to finish off this fight.”

“I may be weird as hell but I ain't ‘extraordinary’, Fury. I don’t wanna join your band of misfits.”

“Alright, how about a compromise? You fly your fancy jet here right now and help them out and if you still don’t wanna join once the battle is over, you can go right back to France and I’ll stop bothering you about joining.” After a few seconds of silence I agreed. 

“Fine, but I’m not gonna change my mind. Wait, how do you know about my jet?”

He gave a hearty laugh and said “I know everything, Eight. You should know that by now.”

New York, New York; 96 Minutes Later: 

I flew my jet into the city, making sure to take out a few flying Chitauri in the process. We don’t need to talk about how I got my hands on a German jet that can fly 2100mph. I saw a few interesting characters standing in a circle fighting off an endless sea of aliens. I maneuvered the jet and— wait…is that guy wearing blue tights? Is this what Fury meant by extraordinary? Whatever. I landed in the street about 20 yards away and killed the engines. I hopped out and started jogging towards the group. A couple of them turned around, probably wondering who the hell the chick in the black uniform is and— whoa that’s a beautiful woman. After realizing my steps had literally faltered in a mini gay panic, I slowed to a walk and said “Y’all need a hand?”

“Depends on whose hand it is,” replied the redheaded source of my panic.

“I’m a friend of Fury’s. He practically begged me to come save your asses.”

“Fury doesn’t beg,” she said in a doubtful tone.

“Not typically, but I'm just that awesome. If you don’t believe me then call him up but I’m gonna go kill some aliens.” With that I took off down another street where there was a group of the repulsive bastards. After unloading all of my magazines into Chitauri bodies, I switched to my swords and daggers. After another hour or so of fighting, there were no more aliens in sight. I started jogging toward the rich dude’s tower when I saw said rich dude falling through the rapidly-closing portal. I stopped next to Mr. Blue Tights and the buff blonde guy with the hammer when the big green dude grabbed Mr. Rich Dude from the sky and landed next to us. The green guy yelled, waking Mr. Rich Dude up with a start. “What the hell? What happened? Please tell me nobody kissed me. Except for her, she’s pretty hot,” he said nodding toward me. Just then the redhead jogged over to us and eyed my blood-soaked form from head to toe. 

“See something you like, Red?”

“No. I’m pretty sure I'd be classified as a sadist if I liked the sight of that much blood,” she said with a raise of her eyebrow.

“Yeah that’s fair.” She shook her head at me with a small smirk. There was barely a second of silence when Mr. Rich Dude spoke up. 

“Anybody want shawarma?”

Three Hours Later:

I had gone to the Triskelion after the band of misfits apprehended Loki. Agent Hill showed me where to park my jet and directed me to a room so I could shower and stay the night if I wanted to. I had put on black jeans, a white tee, and a black jean jacket, all of which had been in a to-go bag in my jet. I was toweling off my hair when someone knocked on the door. I opened the door to see none other than the one-eyed-wonder standing there. “What can I do for you, Nicky?”

“The Avengers are being debriefed in Conference Room 6B in ten minutes. You should come.”

“The Avengers? Is that what you’re calling them? That’s cute. But I'm not an Avenger and I don’t want to be an Avenger, so no thanks.”

“You should come anyway.”

“I don’t actually have a choice, do I?”

“You know me so well, Eight,” he said with an amused grin.

I walked into the conference room and the Avengers were already there. Steve Rogers, Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Thor, and Natasha Romanoff—whose names I learned from Hill— were scattered around a large table, along with Fury. Romanoff eyed me from where she was standing and arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at me. I squinted my eyes and wiggled my eyebrows in response, and I could see her stifle a laugh. “What’s your name?” She accompanied the question with a blank expression, which made me feel oh-so-special. 

“That’s a very personal question, Miss Romanoff. Let’s slow the pace, please.”

“You know my name but I can’t know yours? That doesn’t seem fair.”

“The world isn’t fair, Miss Romanoff, and I love a good mystery.”

“If you two are done flirting, we have business to attend to,” interjected Fury.

“Right, my apologies, Nicky.”

“Don’t call me that, Eight.”

After an excruciating 43 minutes and 27 seconds, Fury finally let us leave. I was so close to freedom when that unbelievably sexy voice called to me. “Eight!” Romanoff hastily walked towards me in an effort to catch up.

“Yeah?”

“Is your name actually Eight?”

“If you want it to be.”

“Why are you so damn stubborn?”

“It amuses me, Red.” There was a brief silence during which both of us were trying to figure out if the conversation was over. 

I was about to leave when she continued, “So that’s it? You’re just gonna leave?”

“Well, no. I’m going to stay the night, steal some really expensive jet fuel, and then leave in the morning before Fury can get up my ass about joining his little team.”

She rolled her eyes and responded, “Why won’t you join the Avengers? And why won’t you tell me your real name?”

“It’s just not my style. I’d rather fly solo.”

“You ignored my second question.”

“Then maybe you should take the hint and stop asking.” With that I turned around and started walking away, but a hand on my arm stopped me dead in my tracks. Alarms started going off in my head, and I'm pretty sure Romanoff was saying something to me but I was too caught up in the memories of beatings, punishments, and psychological conditioning to register it. After a few of the longest seconds of my life, the white of my vision cleared up and the voice telling me ‘physical contact is strictly forbidden’ faded into the background. My heart was still hammering in my chest and I was trying to keep my breathing steady despite the inevitable panic attack trying to drag me under, I regained my neutral expression and said. “Sorry, did you say something?”

“Are you okay?” She had a concerned expression and if I wasn’t so blinded with anxiety, I would’ve appreciated how cute the furrow of her eyebrows was.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just gonna turn in. It’s been a long day.” I turned around and walked back to my temporary room at a brutal pace. As soon as the door closed behind me, hot tears raced down my cheeks and I lost the ability to breathe. It was gonna be a long night.

3:21 am:

I finally managed to calm myself down and stop the panic attack after almost four hours. Well, I passed out because I couldn’t breathe but it did calm me down. Trying to sleep would be pointless, so I decided to leave before anyone woke up. I didn’t really have much to pack so I grabbed my duffel bag and left the room. I made it to the corridor attached to the landing pads and ran into the one person I really didn’t want to see. “What are you doing out and about, Red?”

“I’ve got places to be and things to do. Were you just going to sneak out in the middle of the night like a teenager with a rebellious streak?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing, actually. Do you need a ride? Where are you going?”

“Madrid. Fury said I could hitch a ride on another plane that’s headed for Germany.”

“Well I’m going to France if you wanna ride with me. My jet will get you there a lot faster.” She studied me for what felt like way too long, probably debating if I would try to kill her or not. You know how spies are with their trust issues.

“What the hell, why not?”

And that is how I ended up in a jet with “Candy Shop” playing over the speakers and Natasha Romanoff in the copilot seat yelling at me to, and I quote, ‘slow the fuck down.’ “Why would I slow down, you psycho?! That’s the whole damn point of this thing!”

“Where did you even get a German jet this fast?”

“Germany.”

“No shit Sherlock. How did you get it?”

“I went to Germany, stopped in at the local speedy-jet dealership, and walked out with this beauty.”

“Sarcasm is a defense mechanism, you know? You’re only being like this to keep me from seeing the real you. You built walls. You want everyone to think you’re fine when in reality, you’re falling apart.”

“Okay…um…there was no need for that, Dr. Romanoff. I can find my own therapist, thank you very much. And don’t go pretending you’re all healthy in the head, Miss Assassin.” It was quiet for all of five seconds before we both burst into laughter.

Madrid, Spain:

I landed the jet at the local S.H.I.E.L.D. base and killed the engines. Romanoff and I removed our headsets and I stood to help her get her bags. “Welp, I’ll see you around I guess.” I really wasn’t good at this type of thing. Or any social interactions, really. Twenty-four years in a cell will do that to you.

“Will I? See you around, I mean?”

“Um, I don’t really know, honestly. I’m not part of S.H.I.E.L.D. so we won’t just run into each other or anything but…”

“Why won’t you join S.H.I.E.L.D.? I mean what else are you doing?”

“Ohhh, I see. You just love me so much that you don’t want me to leave. You’re gonna miss me so much-” I was cut off when she threw her backpack at my head. “Hey! You’re lucky I caught that! Freaking crazy woman.”

When our laughter died down she said, “Well I should probably go. Thank you for the ride.”

“Of course. Hitchhikers are always welcome aboard my beloved jet.” A small smile appeared on her face and she stepped forward to give me a hug but she must’ve seen my body go rigid because she stepped back. She might’ve said something but the voice in my head was too loud for me to understand her. I don’t know how long it was before I unfroze but when I did, she was gone. I walked to the front of the jet and started the journey to France.

[huihuiheart]

My Queen - Mafia! Changkyun

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Monsta X Masterlist

Pairing: Mafia! Changkyun x Sub! Female Reader

Genre: Smut with some fluff, but mostly just filth

Summary: Part 2 of Yes Sir! - You agreed to be his, so he intends to show you that he really can make you his queen. Honestly, I’m kind of considering making this a series.

Warnings: Unprotected sex, dom/sub themes (pretty soft though), body worship, strip tease(barely), most of the foreplay in the previous part, fingering.

Word Count: 1,706

“I think it’s time for you to make me your queen now, Sir.” You give him the same smirk he’s been giving you all night as you give him a true answer to his earlier invitation as well as move to get what you both truly wanted.

“Fuck doll. I thought you’d never ask.”

As much as Changkyun would have liked to fuck you in the hidden area behind the bar, he insisted on taking you back to his place to finish what the two of you had started. After all, he promised to make you his queen, so while he had no problems fucking you anywhere, over anything...it’s not what he intended to do your first night together like this. He intended to spoil you tonight, make sure you knew exactly all the things he could give to you. He’d save the rougher aspects for some other time. Likely when you would need to be reminded of just who was in charge after his endless amounts of spoiling.

His hand resting on your thigh through the whole drive to his place, making you certain you’re making a mess of the expensive leather seat of his car. Not that Changkyun would ever find himself complaining about that, quite the opposite actually. If he knew, however, the last of his self-control might shatter and he might take you in the backseat of his car only to regret not treating you how he felt you truly deserved. 

Chsngkyun was sure he could have been pulled over for multiple traffic violations, but he couldn’t care less. He was just glad he got you both back to his place as quickly as possible. Beaming proudly to himself when he noticed you gawking as his impressive home. Having come up the private drive, past the perfectly manicured lawn to what was practically a mansion. You knew it would be impressive, already knowing how much he profited...still the outside alone blew away any previous expectations you had.

“This is all yours now too. Along with anything else you might want or need. You are my queen now after all.”Changkyun brushes his thumb over your cheek, before slipping out of the car and coming around to help you out. The man was more than eager to get you inside, not that he’d let you appreciate the interior too much currently. Not when his patience was already running thin. He needed you in his bedroom and he needed you there now before he lost his goddamn mind.

The second both of you are through the door his lips are on yours, his hands finding your hips to lead the way to his room. Thoroughly distracting you from anything else, including anyone who works at his home, and might be catching glimpses of you both along the way. Something you would have worried about slamming the bedroom door shut doing if his home weren’t so big that the sound would have died out before meeting the ears of too many other people. 

Changkyun finally pulls away from your lips, sitting on his bed and unbuttoning his shirt slowly, “Strip for me doll? I want to see all of you, my queen.”

Despite the fact that he was the dominant one in the bedroom, his words were a request, not a demand. Wanting to be sure that you were comfortable tonight, even if he desired something different. Willing to concede to anything you wanted, even if he was dominant. You hold more power over Changkyun than you likely even knew. 

Shy or not, you were too far gone at this point to not give in to his request. Your movements weren’t slow enough to tease him but also allowed enough time for him to properly appreciate the view of each new inch of your bare skin that graced his sight. When he called you his queen that was putting it lightly, you had been his whole world for a while now. Not that it was love at first sight per se unless you counted the first time he saw your personality show through...that being what sucked the man in and trapped him there with no hope of escaping. 

Changkyun slipping his shirt off his shoulders and tossing it aside to join the last of your clothes, his hand offered to you as he stands once again. Gently gripping your hips to guide you back onto the bed, taking your place for a moment and discarding his pants, but not yet stripping entirely. He’s too busy focusing on you right now to worry about that. Leaning forward to press his lips to your throat before working them lower, intending to cover every little piece of skin he could reach with his affections. Willing to bow to his queen, showing wordlessly just how deeply his feelings ran even if he had not confessed them before tonight. Wanting you to know that he would give you everything, give up everything if it was for you...even his life.

“Where is all this patience coming from sir? Show me the same raw desire you did back at the bar. I want you already, please.” The way you pleaded beneath him, tacking on the honorific made Changkyun concede easily. His wants still bleeding through into his actions though, kissing his way back up before pressing a passionate kiss to your lips. His thinly clothed bulge grinding down onto your bare core.

“All in due time my queen, I want to make you feel blissfully loved first. Then I’ll fuck you senseless like a little slut afterward. That’s fair isn’t it?” Changkyun inquires, the rolling of his hips turning you to putty for him. Your nod is the only response he needs right now, after all, he can break you into all of his rules later. For now, his sole focus is on making sure you know how much he appreciates the entirety of you. 

Changkhyun’s fingers trail up your inner thigh, meeting your eagerness by slowly rubbing two fingers through your glistening folds. His lips drift over your neck and up your jaw, before looking into your eyes as he gently eases his fingers inside of you, letting you adjust as he works them deeper.

“I’m going to make you cum so sweetly before I show you that I can give it to you rough too. I want you to know that no matter what your desire, I can fulfill all of your needs my queen. You’ll never need anyone but me.” His languid pace along with his words has you moaning breathlessly into the room. It was not quite what you had begged him for, yet it was still so pleasurable that your head was already spinning. His thumb falling to your clit to rub circles at the same leisurely pace that his fingers pumped into you. Changkyun’s mouth lowering to capture one of your nipples, fully intending to use any weak spot he could find to make you feel as good as possible. Something you never would have thought could make you cum so hard until he did it, fingers stroking over your spot with each press of them into you while he rides you through the high. Giving you the briefest of kisses before he brings his fingers up to his mouth, making a show out of cleaning your essence off them, the taste making him moan.

“Fuck me like you promised and I’ll let you eat me out for as long as you want later.” You bargain with him, knowing that if you don’t speak up fast he’ll probably drag this out longer by tasting you from the source before you get to feel him. As enticing as that sounded you were far too impatient at the moment for that. Your hands are already pushing down his boxers to finally free his cock, letting you see it for the first time.

“Fine, but I’m going to hold you to that.” Changkyun chuckles, hands gripping your hips to flip you over onto your hands and knees. His hands greedily groping at your ass while rubbing his tip through your folds, collecting your wetness before sheathing himself as deep inside of you as he could get. He leans in towards your ear, not having moved yet, “Tomorrow when you can’t walk on your own though, just remember that you’re the one who asked for this.” 

He doesn’t waste a second more before he’s setting a bruising pace that has your legs quaking each time he fills you so completely. Stroking over your most sensitive spots, his tip even brushing against your cervix in a way that you know will undoubtedly leave you sore reminders the next day. No part of you could care less though, you finally were getting fucked the way you’d wanted since you started working for Changkyun. Finally feeling his hips snap against your ass while he fucked you like his own personal doll. Something Changkyun certainly proved he could keep up for rounds without any hesitation.

Peeking out from under the covers the next morning, you carefully moved to slip out of bed. Your legs are slightly weak and a bit jelly-like, but not unbearable. It seemed his doting aftercare had done you some good, especially at ensuring you didn’t feel grimey this morning. You silently pad over to your items and fish your cell phone out of your purse, before slipping out of the room and glancing down the hall the check that the coast was clear. Scrolling through your call history for that one familiar number, despite it being marked as an unknown caller and pressing the button, waiting for someone to pick up.

“It worked.....I’m in. I’ll call you with an update as soon as I can. I just thought you should know that we finally made it this far.” You whisper over the line, making the man on the other side chuckle.

“I told you it would now go back to him before he suspects anything...you’ve done well.” The man praises before hanging up, making you smirk. 

Silently you slip back into the room and Changkyun’s arms once more. Him still being sound asleep and not suspecting a single thing.

[subscorpsupremacy]

Fire and Ice    

Chapter 4: Beg for Your Life    

Hanzo laughed at the sight of Kuai, drenched and filled with cum. "There is such a beautiful poetry in this, Kuai Liang. A warrior like you should appreciate the battle in which a blade pierced your guts, and out spilled fluids. Even if you are the one who was overpowered and penetrated. Such are the lives we lead, Sub-Zero. We fight, and I win."

Hanzo's face was flushed. There was an undeniable glow to him that kept his smile wide. Kuai's chiseled abdomen and muscular chest glistened with combined sweat and semen. Hanzo chuckled at the worn-out man before him. The younger man was heaving.

"Revenge is a dish best served cold," Hanzo whispered. "But they forgot to say it tastes even better after it goes through the fire."

Hanzo crept forward and licked the cum off of Kuai, taking the time to feel and appreciate the rise and fall across the taut muscles. Hanzo started at the lower abdomen and moved his way to the top but he misjudged his position and he fell on top of Kuai's chest. Kuai's cum slathered Hanzo's cheek, and as he uttered a surprised gasp, Kuai quickly crumbled into ice. Hanzo scrambled to stand up as the ice klone continued to shatter into smaller pieces. Hanzo lost his balance and his hands instinctively reached out behind him, trying to find something to grab on to. His flailing hands found a solid slab of rock, and as Hanzo tried to push himself back up, he found that his hands were stuck against the rock.

"Grandmaster Hanzo Hasashi," Kuai's deep voice spoke from behind. "Always thinking of the battle, never the war. Your shortsightedness always puts you in trouble."

Kuai walked in front of Hanzo, who was in a very awkward position of being bent over slightly backwards. The rock he held on to was no rock, it was a slab of solid ice that has swallowed the ninja's fists and rope spear.

"I must admit that was a very very pleasurable fucking you just gave me. I will be reminiscing that in my alone time, perhaps even dream of it," Kuai said as his hands grazed over Hanzo's chest. "The sight of you towering over me and just hungrily conquering me was very intoxicating."

"But I didn't finish having my way with you. I, too, am owed," the cryomancer continued to speak almost casually as he lightly tugged at one of the ninja's nipples.

"So we're back to our endless cycle of vengeance, then," Hanzo sneered. "You couldn't fuck me half as good as I fucked you." Hanzo was still riding high on his display of dominance.

"You know Hanzo, I have half a mind of stuffing my cock down your throat to shut you up while I leave a klone with its ice cock jammed in your ass," Kuai paused. His face wore a fixed grin as he studied Hanzo's reaction. Hanzo's eyebrows raised ever so slightly, and the haughty glint in his eyes became undeniably mixed with confusion and curiosity.

Kuai's smile widened. He bit his lower lip. He reached for Hanzo's cock. The cryomancer's fingers grazed the length of it. The erection was still slick with Hanzo's own cum from earlier. Hanzo's body twitched, and his cock raised in response at the touch. "But then how would I hear that sexy arrogance shiver and dampen into groveling?"

"You will not hear me grovel. I already told you, I will not be reduced to--" Hanzo spat but he was cut short. Kuai grasped Hanzo's cock firmly and began to stroke up and down, the cum that glazed it added to the pleasure, and allowed Kuai's hand to almost glide smoothly up and down. Hanzo's eyes closed for a second and the ninja's tongue peeked out of his mouth. It brushed the upper lip then the bottom lip, and as the tongue retreated, it dragged the lower lip inside, until Hanzo's upper teeth clamped down on the lip.

"Besides, I don't need to use a klone to prove my worth to to my rival," Kuai's strokes picked up the pace.

"You already proved your worth when you took all of my cock and my load without so much as any form of resistance," Hanzo said in between huffing and puffing. Kuai continued to jerk Hanzo faster and faster. Hanzo's hips started to buck as he neared the edge, and suddenly, Kuai let go.

Hanzo opened his eyes and glared at Kuai. "Still trying to do your mindgames?!"

"You lack patience," Kuai chuckled. His hand was slick with Hanzo's cum. And with it, Kuai reached down and smeared Hanzo's hole. The ninja's face, which was moments ago full of delight, contorted to a mixture of realization and horror.

"You will pay for your perverted insolence," Hanzo protested as his rear was lubricated by his own cum. Hanzo's hole clenched and quivered as the sticky warm load sent his body on a frenzy. The cryomancer pushed his fingers in with ease, thanks to Hanzo's release lubricating the entry. In the fingers went all the way to the ninja's sensitive spot. The execution and the pressure applied, flawless. Hanzo's hips swayed and his knees buckled once more.

"Have a chill in your spine?" Kuai teased delightfully. He kept the pressure building up just very gradually for dozen seconds and then slid his fingers out.

"Lin Kuei scum!" Hanzo gnashed his teeth and tried to free himself from the ice pillar without success.

"Shirai Ryu dogs need to treat their Lin Kuei masters better," Kuai said as he grabbed and lifted Hanzo's thighs higher. Kuai's cock hovered just before Hanzo's hole. "It is the masters who feed the dogs meat."

Kuai pushed his tip inside with the same glacial pace he used earlier in the bamboo forest. "I didn't have the satisfaction of watching you squirm earlier. I must say the sight is quite exquisite. Here is the man who asserted his power over me, now being violated."

"W--Why....you..." Hanzo tried to retort, but Kuai's slow and steady entrance was too overwhelming.

"Your teeth chatter," Kuai said as he buried himself deep inside Hanzo, pressing directly against the ninja's sweet spot. Kuai kept himself in that depth and position for several minutes then gave a small thrust. Hanzo's eyes closed. His body was on fire. It was fully tense and every fiber of Hanzo's being called out for release, and then suddenly, Kuai withdrew. Hanzo's eyes widened in shock. Hanzo wanted to flail in frustration, but Kuai kept in him an iron grip. Hanzo's body protested against its owner. Thrice now it has been denied in quick succession. Thrice now it wanted to explode in bliss, thrice now it has built up the load.

"Kuai..." Hanzo choked. It sounded almost like he was about to cry.

"Beg for your life," Kuai said coldly.

"I will not b--"

"Beg for your life."

"I won't--"

"BEG. FOR. YOUR. LIFE."

"Fuck me, do whatever you want, just let me cum, please Kuai. I need it. I need you. Just do it, please!" Hanzo wailed desperately. His climax being always out of reach was torturing him.

Still Kuai would not indulge him.

"Please, Sub-Zero....Master Kuai Liang," Hanzo's voice and body trembled. His eyes glistened pleadingly at Kuai's chilling, indifferent stare. And in that moment, Hanzo remembered just how deadly Kuai has always been, and still is.

Kuai Liang rocked his hips slowly but with powerful and deadly accurate thrusts. Hanzo squirmed and spasmed, and his loins coiled, welcoming the younger man's mercy and blessing. Climax at last, and out rushed his seed, spurted high into the air, raining down on him and his face like refreshing rain on parched land. Each powerful thrust of the cryomancer forced cum out of the ninja. On and on Lin Kuei Grandmaster went, pushing in, penetrating balls-deep, and the Shirai Ryu Grandmaster was caving in, seizing up and crying out. Hanzo's thighs wrapped tighter around Kuai, the ninja desperate to gain footing and momentum in thrusting his hips up, wanting to eject his fluids better. And so he did, and Hanzo also brought Kuai in closer and deeper inside.

"This time, I win," Kuai Liang said triumphantly.

And the two warriors moved in beautiful unison and an unbelievably drawn-out climax, a secret symphony of sex, sweat and semen, a discreet dance of desire, determination and dicking.

-to be continued

full image on my ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33567382/chapters/83408371

i hope you guys enjoy this. i really brought the kinks past my usual limit

[winterscaptain]

infirmity.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: part four of our 100 arc, covering 5x02, haunted! I forgot how much i love this episode, so i really leaned into this one. it’s a labor of love!! i can’t wait to hear what you all think (i crave feedback and affection) and if you reblog, i’d love to see your cheeky lil thoughts in the tags!!

an ajf fic arc that happily stands on its own! one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten | eleven

words: 4.3k warnings: language, bad decisions

summary: “a friend should bear his friend’s infirmities” - william shakespeare, julius caesar.

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | requests closed!

You knock on the door at 8:30 sharp. Almost thirty seconds pass before he answers, and you note the hand on his holster as he opens the door. 

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you chirp. “Ready to go?”

He turns, gathering his things. “What do we know about this case in Kentucky?”

Thrown a little by the lack of greeting, you follow him into the apartment. The sight of the Foyet files on his desk aren’t foreign to you, nor are they a surprise. They’ve been there every time you came over during his leave (in fact, you’ve sat on them more than once), so why you expected them to go away once he was back you had no idea.

“Um, no connection between Call and his victims. They’re canvassing, but no sign of him so far.”

“Start with his recent history. Find the stressor.” His voice is flat, impassive, and you frown. 

He was just getting better…

You’re about to head back toward the door when -

“Don’t move.”

Right. The alarm. 

He stands by to arm it. “Ready?”

“Are you?”

+++

You arrive at the tarmac, Hotch in the passenger seat of your car. He looks a little resigned, but straightens and takes a breath before he opens the door, settling into his role as he steps out and straightens his suit jacket. 

It’s always a little funny to watch him transform. You’re honored you get to see it, even if he’s in rough shape. 

Especially then. 

You climb the stairs and follow him in, settling in your usual place. 

“Good to see you,” Dave says as Aaron scoots down the aisle. It makes you smile. 

“You, too.”

Aaron gets settled and you shift, trying not to hover but finding it difficult to be separated from him after his weeks of absence. He greets the rest of the team, exchanging pleasantries and checking in with Reid about his knee. 

“Any other attacks?”

JJ shakes her head, while Spencer elaborates. “Call’s proven hard to track. He’s never had a driver's license so he’s probably still on foot.”

“Or public transportation,” Emily notes.

You hum. “He wouldn’t take the bus. His face is everywhere.”

“Has anyone found a stressor?” You weren’t sure if Aaron’s brusque affect was going to continue once you made it to the plane, but his tone just about answers your question. 

Stepping back into authority quickly, there, Aaron. 

“He just lost his job,” Garcia supplies. “He’s worked at a factory since 1990. Made appliances since forever and not a single promotion.”

Derek tilts his head. “That’s a long time to be bitter.”

“Or he doesn’t care?”

JJ looks at Spencer and shakes her head. “Not if he’s got a family to feed.” 

“Actually, he’s of the hermit variety as far as I can tell. He’s got no one. No wife, no kids, no parents.” You watch Garcia’s eyes flicker around the screen as she talks to you, doing what she does best. 

“Nothing to live for.”  Derek’s looking a little too pointedly at Aaron for your taste, but your evaluation is interrupted. 

“So why hasn’t he killed himself yet?”

Your brain sputters at Aaron’s offhand delivery. “What?”

“Sprees usually end in suicide. If he’s got nothing to live for, why hasn’t he ended it?”

The energy in the room grows uncomfortable, fast. Aaron’s voice is still flat - you might go so far as to say it sounds dead, but that inspires a kind of heavy sullenness in your chest you’d rather not subject yourself to. 

You wish Haley was around for no other reason but to kick his ass. 

You’re thankful for Spencer when he answers Hotch’s question. “Because he isn’t finished, yet. We know he has displaced anger. He took it out on the first victim.”

“Well,” Aaron continues, “the stock boy represents someone. We need to know who.”

You meet Derek’s eyes and you can tell he’s trying to read you - trying to see if you’re as concerned as he is. You don’t give him the satisfaction. 

+++

Later, you corner Morgan on the plane before landing, keeping your voice low. The case is in your lap so there’s a valid distraction when you need one. 

“What’s wrong with you?”

He stops and turns. “I thought Hotch was cleared to drive.” 

“He is.”

“Then why did you pick him up this morning?”

You shrug. “I wanted to.” His eyes bore into the side of your head and you look up with an exasperated huff. “What?”

He sighs. “He’s only had a month off.”

“Well,” you say, aware that you’re being pedantic before you even get there, “thirty-four days. That’s a little more than a month.”

His stare is withering, but you’re impervious. “And you think that’s long enough?”

“Are you asking me as his coworker or as his friend?”

“Is there a difference?”

You shrug. “Maybe.” Yes. “But if you don’t think he’s had enough time, you should tell him.”

He scoffs. “No thanks. I like my job.”

“You like him more.” A little smile crosses your face. “Though, I know you don’t like to think so.”

“No. I like you.” Derek corrects. “He also happens to like you, so I tolerate him for your benefit.”

“Much appreciated.” You return to your work, but Derek’s eyes linger. You don’t look up as you ask, “What?”

“What if he has PTSD?”

Still writing, you answer with a general air of nonchalance. “He was evaluated.”

“Oh, come on. We wrote those questions. Hotch knows exactly -“

You slam your pen down and lean back with your arms crossed. You draw Spencer's eyes and lower your voice again. “So, what? Are you going to pick at me until you get me to say something you want me to say?” You let out a sardonic chuff, settling back to work. “If that’s the case, you’re gonna be here a while.” You tip your head a little toward the little table by the window. “Your coffee’s getting cold.”

You admittedly feel a little bad for being short with him, but everything seems to be testing your patience today. 

And if you’re honest, you’re worried about Aaron, too. 

After a few minutes of work in silence, you call out to him again. There’s the smallest of apologies in your voice. “Derek?”

He looks at you, dark eyes open and yielding - concerned and forgiving. “Yeah?”

“He’s back because he has to be. He needs to know we’re here for him.”

“He knows that.”

You offer him a small smile. “Don’t let him forget it.” You pause, your head wavering a little bit as your tone turns a touch facetious. “I can’t do all the heavy lifting around here.”

You get a laugh out of him - just a little one - and it’s enough. “Don’t push it, kid. I remember when you were dead weight.”

You roll your eyes. 

That’s enough, for now. 

+++

Even your seemingly-endless patience with Aaron rapidly wanes as you spend more time at the crime scene. It’s frustrating. 

“He was on an antipsychotic?” You ask with a little frown. 

The pharmacist nods. “Well, that’s why I wanted him to calm down. He’s been off of them at least a month, now.” 

“And when were you going to tell us this?” Aaron asks, harsh and sharp. 

You look at him, your frown deepening. 

What the fuck is that attitude?

“He’s armed, he’s delusional. Who’s his doctor?” Hotch’s tone grows even pointier, somehow, as he pushes harder. 

“I don’t remember - my computer…” She gestures behind the desk, where the computer has been fried by a bullet. 

“Great. That’s great.” He walks away, already making a call. 

“Excuse us,” you say in an attempt to recover. Derek echoes you and you try to avoid running after Hotch as he strides down the aisle. 

Long-legged asshole. Slow down. 

“Hotch,” you call. He doesn’t listen. 

“Call JJ and tell her about the meds.” He’s still walking. You’ve caught up. 

Derek chimes in, gesturing back at the pharmacist. “This is not her fault.”

Aaron turns on him. “Morgan, he’s in a psychotic break. It changes everything.”

“You want to talk about this?” Derek asks, taking another step closer. 

Squaring up to Derek’s shoulder, you’re ready to pull them apart if they get really heated. 

Wouldn’t be the first time.

In some ways, Morgan’s admission on the plane was truer than he let on. You are the link between Derek and Aaron, almost like a balm. You see things in them that they can’t see in each other. It helps. 

With a pang, you think of Haley, for some reason. 

You miss her. 

“No.” Aaron’s interruption is sharp and it startles you out of your thoughts. “I want to find him - Garcia,” he turns, continuing on his warpath forward, “he’s been off his antipsychotic for a month. What else did you miss?”

Your mouth drops open and Derek’s about to deck Aaron while his back is turned. You push in front of Derek, getting between them to give him a chance to cool off. The last thing you want is to handle more wound dressings - for either one of them. 

Aaron hangs up and walks out after what you imagine is a rather unilluminating update from Penelope. You turn, putting your hand on Derek’s shoulder and looking him in the eye. 

Still think he’s alright? His eyes ask.

 You grit your teeth. I don’t know. 

+++

The psychiatrist and patient lay dead on the floor, Call nowhere in sight. Derek directs the local officers to check the perimeter, just in case. 

You look at Hotch, who still doesn’t look completely checked in, himself. 

Or maybe he looks too checked in?

I don’t know. 

You’d be lying if you said his behavior didn’t freak you out. Though he’s standing beside you, you miss him. 

Come back to me. 

You miss the man who pliantly sat under your hands as you washed his wounds and brought him takeout and forced him to take naps in the middle of the afternoon on a weekday. 

You miss the man who fought you for the remote and stole far too many of your fries, who would change the channel if you made the mistake of going to the bathroom on a commercial break. 

That man was with you as late as Saturday. Returning has brought something else out in him, the part of him that spent (often very) late nights looking for Foyet has risen to the forefront. 

“We’re too late.” 

Before the rest of you can do anything, Aaron leaves the room, pushing past Dave in his haste to leave. 

Emily calls after him, but he’s long gone down the hallway. They look at you. 

All you can do is shake your head with a downturned curve of your mouth. 

+++

After a little while, you go downstairs and find Hotch outside. Before you can say anything - 

“I should have seen the blinking on the video.” 

You huff at him. “Hotch, it could have been a nervous tic. You couldn’t have known - none of the records were available, yet.” 

“But it wasn’t a tic. It’s a classic sign of long-term antipsychotic use, and I missed it.”

You step in front of him, squarely meeting his eyes. “We all missed it.” 

He’s got another pessimistic jab that you choose to ignore just before Emily and Dave arrive with news from Garcia. 

Oh, Aaron. 

+++

The officer huffs. “I don’t care why he took him.” 

Aaron had, once again, escalated the situation with local police. Tensions are high, and you only hope he can get his shit together at some point. “You should.” 

Goddamn it, Aaron. 

He continues, advancing on the police captain. “Call’s memory is no longer suppressed. He’s reinventing his past and unless we understand how, we’re not going to find either of them.”

“Well, I’m not gonna just sit around and speculate.” 

It’s an old-fashioned Western standoff, now. 

Who’s Clint Eastwood?

Well, Hotch has the looks but -

Quit. 

Fine. 

“Then don’t.”

The captain turns to you, Emily, and Dave. “You don’t think we should chase him either?”

“We need to get ahead of Call,” Dave answers evenly. 

The captain looks at Aaron once more before storming off. The rest of you approach Hotch, and Emily’s a little frustrated when she reminds him, “There’s a kid missing.” 

“They don’t need the extra manpower.” 

You squint at him. “Since when?”

“If we had studied Foyet’s initial crimes -”

Oh for the love of fuck. 

“- we would have known that a survivor didn’t make sense.”

“What does he have to do with this?”

Great question, Emily.

“All we had to do was stop and look at Foyet’s history. But we didn’t, and we lost two couples and a bus full of people. I am not making that mistake again.” He leaves the three of you stunned in his wake. After a moment, you follow him. 

You always do. 

+++

“Let’s go.” 

You’ve got the address to the unsub’s home and you take the car with Aaron, the rest of the team following behind you. 

He drives fast, but that’s nothing new. He throws the siren and floors it. You call SWAT yourself, getting Derek prepared for staging. 

When you get out of the car, you throw your vest on, helping Emily with the straps across her shoulders before she can reach them themselves. 

“Prentiss,” Aaron says, putting his earwig in. “Check in with the lieutenant, see if there’s anything we can use.” 

She nods. “Yes, sir.” 

“You good?” You ask, looking over at him. 

“Yeah, I’m good.” 

You throw your head to the side, and he takes your flank as you get closer to Emily. Her briefing with this particular lieutenant could go sideways, but you don’t want to leave him feeling trapped. 

“...The kid’s in there. We got this. Tactical teams are covering the exits. He’s still focused on the old man.”

Emily squints, adjusting her comm. “For now, but we’re gonna have to figure out the safest way to get that kid out.”

“I’ve got a team in the back and one on the way. We’re going to infiltrate.” 

“You do that and someone else dies.” The balance of firm and collaborative rests delicately on her tone. She’s doing well. 

“Either Call or a child murder. Flip a coin.” 

His tone frustrates you, but you leave Emily to her devices, checking your magazines for the third time. Your sidearm is in place, as is your backup. 

“It doesn’t have to end like that. We get a confession out of Jarvis and he goes away, and Call gets his answers. No one else has to die.” She pauses, and a streak of white flashes in your peripheral. “Hotch!” 

You whirl, ready to sprint after him as he walks decisively past the rest of you, past the gate, and into the house. After a moment’s hesitation, you make a break for it. A wall of arms stops you, and you know Derek’s behind you when you hear, “What the hell is he doing?”

No vest...Is he even carrying his gun? 

“Let him go.” 

You turn on Dave, your face plastered with fear and fury. “What do you mean let him go. Rossi -”

“I’m not letting him go in there solo.” Derek pushes against Dave again, but to your surprise, he’s locked in tight. 

“We have to trust him.” 

That cools Derek off, but not you. You thrash, freeing yourself from one of the local cops. “The hell we do.” 

“Kid - wait, no.” The roles reverse, and Derek catches up to you and locks you in his arms before you can breach the perimeter. Your elbows don’t land against his vest, but you sure try. “You’ll get him killed.” 

There’s only stress and silence as you stop struggling. All you can do is wait. 

Derek keeps his arm around you, but you almost feel like the contact is for both of you. You take deep breaths, trying to slow your heart rate. It’s through the roof. 

“What’s he doing?” Emily asks into her mic. 

Dave leans into his comm. “Stalling.” 

You can almost feel Derek’s jaw tightening. “He has nothing to lose.” 

He has everything to lose. 

You have everything to lose. 

Don’t be a hero, Aaron. Don’t do anything stupid. 

You hope that he can hear you somehow. 

Too late. 

Hotch appears in the window, followed by the boy. 

There’s a quick SWAT conversation in your ear. 

“Do you have the shot?”

“Negative, negative.”

He’s blocking the shot. 

Goddamn you, Aaron. Goddamn you. 

“Bringing the boy out,” a faceless voice on the radio says. The hostage runs down off the porch and you catch a glimpse of Aaron before he disappears behind the door again. 

You turn your head a touch, keeping your eyes on the door. “Get him out of there.” 

Dave shakes his head. “That’s his call.” 

Your body is wound tighter than a coil and you’re not sure if you’re ready to storm in there or just start walking home. 

There’s a gunshot, and you’re out of there like a bat out of hell. You launch yourself over the short fence and attach yourself to the first SWAT agent you see, remembering your training at the last moment. 

You breach the house and find Aaron cuffing Darin, whose father is dead in the armchair in front of him. Your jaw has never been tighter. 

Once you confirm that he is in fact still alive and still only has nine holes in him, you turn on your heel and you storm out of the house. You don’t stop until you’re leaning on the front of one of the cars, trying to catch your breath. Your hands shake and you don’t trust your knees to hold you up. 

The relief wars with something hot and unpleasant, leaving you more exhausted than you’ve been in weeks. 

You keep your head turned away from Aaron as he approaches you. It’s petty, but you also don’t want him to see the fear on your face. 

He calls you with a sigh in his voice and it finally ignites the fear into anger. 

“I can’t fucking believe you,” you spit. Your voice isn’t loud, but it certainly carries. JJ’s eyes flicker to you from the other side of the yard. “What kind of stunt are you trying to pull? Are you trying to get yourself killed?” 

His jaw tightens. “Let’s not do this here.” 

Your brow draws across your eyes and your mouth opens, indignant. “Let’s not do this here? You’re fucking kidding me.”

In his current state, nothing is off the table. His temper is running short and you know you’re capable of pushing him until he breaks. It hasn’t happened yet, but today might be it.  

Much to your surprise, a sigh leaves him, and he knows he’s stepped in it. “It was stupid. I’m sorry.”

You scoff, shaking your head. 

His remorse only stokes your anger. Go figure. 

“You’re sorry? You’re sorry. You could have died, Hotch. What you did was so beyond protocol I don’t even know if I should start with the necessity of your life because we need you as our unit chief or the importance of your safety as my friend -” You cut yourself off and look away from him, frustrated you even got that far. 

He has nothing to say to that. You’re completely right. The guilt might as well be written across his face in Sharpie. 

His absence fucked with you, to say the least. It felt awful, empty, in the field without him. And then when you were home - well, back at the apartment, he was only ever in pain. 

Overall, your anxiety regarding his health and safety is riding high. 

Much to your frustration, your eyes water, and your lower lip shakes - angry tears an ever-present threat. Your arms cross over your chest. “I can’t even look at you right now.” 

He reaches out for your arm, but you throw him off before he can make contact, turning your head. You stare at the ground, watching him flounder out of the corner of your eye. 

“Go. Go do your fucking job, Hotch.” His nickname is acid in your mouth. It feels like a punishment, a lash of a whip. He doesn’t move, and you turn on him, meeting his guilty brown eyes with your flinty ones. “Go. Make the arrest. They’re waiting on you.” You throw your chin to Derek and Emily, who are indeed waiting for him on the porch with the unsub. 

With another heavy sigh, he turns and rejoins the rest of your team. 

You stay where you are, directing coroner and local law enforcement personnel to relevant staging areas as the crime scene is processed and handled. Aaron’s eyes try to find yours, but you avoid them, focusing on someone, anyone else with crisp professionalism that hardly belies your fear. 

You’ve never been so angry in your life. Even if you have, you can’t remember it feeling this wretched.

+++

He sits beside you on the plane once you’re up in the air and leans forward with his elbows on his knees. The rest of the team sleeps scattered around the cabin, but you suspect that at least one of them is faking it, waiting for some kind of spectacle or spectacular blowup between the two of you. 

You haven’t spoken to Aaron since leaving the crime scene. You drove back to the precinct with Emily and Dave, staying close to JJ and Spencer while you packed your things. There’s a part of you that feels bad for creating what Strauss would call a “hostile work environment,” but the other part can’t bring itself to care. 

You can’t even begin to articulate the fear that coursed through you as you waited for him outside that house. You couldn’t begin to explain the extent of your fear, but after the stabbing and the removal of Haley and Jack from your lives, the prospect of losing him in the field was beyond unbearable. 

It’s frustrating to feel so comforted by his proximity while you’re still so angry with him. The familiarity of it all hardly blunts your anger. If anything, the relief at having him back at your side sharpens your anger into something that scares you. 

The impossibility of it is beyond measure. You’ve known for some time now, but this is the first you’re willing to admit it. 

I love him. 

Fuck.

You love him. You love his son. You love his wife. 

You love the weird look he gets on his face when he has to say “penetration” while he’s delivering a profile. You love the way he tries not to smile when Emily beats Spencer at chess. You love the way he twiddles with pens when he’s thinking or nervous or both. You love that each of his smiles feel like a gift just for you. 

There’s nothing you don’t love about him. 

Except, of course, the way he, with profound idiocy, endangered his life today for no particular reason in addition to his generally asshole-ish behavior. 

“I would say I’m sorry, but I’m sure you know that.” 

You do.

He waits on you, quiet and still. 

You take a deep breath, finally looking at him. “You scared the hell out of me.” 

He nods, his jaw flexing. 

“Don’t do it again.” 

He blinks once, slowly. You know he can’t promise that, but you appreciate his acknowledgment nevertheless. There’s quiet for a moment. 

“Aaron…” You look at him, nothing but concern in your tone. 

He shakes his head. “Don’t.”

“I was just going to say…” You swallow, trying to find better words but coming up short. “We’ll get him.”

+++

Derek’s voice echoes down to the bullpen as you finish up the last few pieces of your paperwork. “I will not stand by and watch this man kill himself.” 

Aaron’s door is closed as he works. You’re not sure if you’re thankful for that, or if you’d rather he hear it. You can’t really hear Dave - not that you’d want to, you’re almost as pissed at him as you are at Aaron - but it doesn’t matter. You know what he has to say. 

Derek’s voice drops lower than you can hear. Dave drops his head. 

Moments later, Derek flies back down the stairs, grabs his jacket, and takes his leave with a cursory goodbye thrown in your direction. Dave returns to his desk and Aaron’s door finally opens. 

You look up as his lights turn off, gathering your things at your desk. With a little sigh that looks a bit like defeat, he stops at your desk. The smugness doesn’t completely leave your tone. “Need a ride?”

Of course, he does. “Please.” 

You rise and walk to the elevators together. In the silence, you tell him, “I’m still really mad at you.” 

A sigh. “I know.” 

+++

You walk him upstairs and take care of the alarm while he removes his suit jacket and throws it over the couch. 

“Do you think Call’s gonna be okay?” You ask, still facing the alarm. 

“I don’t know.”

“He got his answers,” you note, turning to him. “He killed the man who haunted him.” 

His eyes are fixed on a spot on the carpet. “And what else is there?”

“Years of torture.” You both know you’re not talking about Call anymore, but it’s nice to pretend. It gives you the opportunity to say things you wouldn’t - shouldn’t - say to him. “Fear. Grief.”

“Think he’ll get over that?” 

“How could he?” A humorless smile pulls at one corner of your mouth. “But at least he doesn't feel like he’s alone.”

He finally meets your eyes. “He doesn’t have anyone.” I don’t have anyone, his brow says. 

“He has Tommy. He’s not alone.” 

You have me. You’re not alone. 

His brows pull low over his eyes, and you take another opportunity as it comes. “Do you want me to stay again tonight?”

“No, I’m alright.” He takes a little breath and you round the corner, pouring him a couple fingers of whiskey before making a slow, purposeful trek across the room. “Thank you,” he says, taking it. 

“Of course. Anytime.” Now, you both know you aren’t talking about the drink. 

Nevertheless, you pat your pockets for your keys, phone, and various federal paraphernalia, finding them all where they belong. “I should head out, then. Call if you need anything.” 

He nods, watching you with quiet eyes as you close and lock the door behind you. 

+++

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @hurricanejjareau @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @good-heavens-chris-evans @davidrossi-ismydad @angelsbabey @writefasttalkevenfaster @venusbarnes @hotchsflower @ogmilkis @marvels-agents100 @hotchslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @dwellingsofrosie @pan-pride-12 @sunshine-em @word-scribbless​ @jdougl-love​ @sageellsworth05​ @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @buckybau @sana-li @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandice-ray @ellyhotchner @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @laneygthememequeen @violentvulgarvolatile  @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @violet-amxthyst @bwbatta @roses-and-grasses @lcvischmitt @capricorngf @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @mandylove1000 @cevanswhre @qvid-pro-qvo @jeor @spencers-hoodrat @infinity1321 @zizzlekwum @popped-weasels @evee87 @nuvoleincielo @this-broken-band-girl @reidtomestyles @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @winqhster @spencerelds @the-falling-in-the-danger @nattylite49 @crazyshannonigans

[ilovefandoms102]

Endless Love

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Plus Size Reader

Summary: JJ has a surprise for you...

Taglist:

@drewswannabegirl @velyssaraptor @kaitieskidmore1 @jiaraendgame @teamnick @jeyramarie @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon​ @baby-pogue​ @ma10427​ @judayyyw​ @must-be-a-weasley-92​ @iamaunicorn4704​ @agirlwholovescoffee​ @justcallmesams​ @lasnaro​ @lonely-kermit​ @jellyfishbeansontoast​ @ifilwtmfc​ @gviosca​ @fernweh-fangirl​ @runway-to-my-aid​ @eb15​ @tangledinsparkles​ @hurricane-abigail​ @outerbongs​ @jaxandcomet​

Note: This is another request I hope I did you justice! Also just wanted to throw a quick psa that I DO NOT condone body shaming or anything of the sort. I am a plus size female and the words used in my writings are words that not only myself but others I know have heard said about their size. Body shaming is still happening today and I want to shed light on the fact that no matter your size YOU ARE WORTHY, YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL, YOU DESERVE LOVE! There is not enough representation for plus size queens on this app and I created this series so that whoever reads it feels inclusive since most reader inserts are assumed to be a cute, short, skinny female. Not saying there is anything wrong with that, but there is never any stories that females are described in various shapes and sizes which is why I created this series. If you are triggered by anything in these fics then please do not read these and hurt yourself. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy!

=======================================

After a long day at work, there was nothing more satisfying then seeing JJ. The way his beautiful baby blue eyes sparkled every time he saw me, and the way his whole face would light up. He was the light I needed in the darkness of my mind. He made me feel beautiful despite what others, and myself think. He made me feel like I deserved more than what I let myself believe. 

======================================

It was a busy day at The Wreck, Kie and I were flying around the restaurant serving customers. Just as it had slowed down, the guys came in. I was cleaning a table, so my back was turned to them. I felt a pair of arms around me and jumped. I turned to see JJ, his signature goofy grin adorning his features. 

“Hi,” I whispered, still clutching the rag I was using.

“I wish I would have known you were planning on looking so sexy today. I would have stopped and got a picture.” he grinned, I rolled my eyes.

“You saw me before I left J, I haven’t changed any.” I laughed.

“Maybe it’s seeing you hard at work that has me going gorgeous.” he chuckled, kissing my cheek. He lived to see me blush, he thought it was adorable. 

“You’re so dumb.” I giggled, trying to escape his hold so I could go back to work. He tightened his hold, his eyes full of mischief. 

“What’s your hurry babe?” he asked, mock confusion tinting his features. His hands started to roam, from my waist, down to my love handles, and further to my ass.

“JJ stop, I’m at work!” I whisper yelled. 

“What? I’m not doing anything.” he said, his hands still roaming.

“Quit!” I laughed, grabbing his hands in mine. 

“When are you leaving? I have plans for us.” he smiled, wriggling his brows at me. 

“As soon as Kie’s dad says so, what are we doing?” I grinned, excitement coursing through me. 

“It’s a surprise.” he whispered, lips ghosting over mine.

“You know I don’t like surprises,” I sighed, my eyes flicking from his eyes to his lips that were brushing against mine. 

“I know babygirl, but I really think you’ll like this one.” he smirked.

“I need to go back to work before Kie comes and yells at us.” I chuckled, giving him a quick kiss before breaking from his hold. 

“My hard working woman, makin’ me horny just by wiping down some tables.” he winked. 

I slapped him with my rag, shooing him away so I could get out of here faster. I was a little way from the bar, turning my back to my friends. I was hoping they would talk about whatever this surprise JJ has for me. I was dying to know so I could mentally prepare myself. Surprises gave me extremely bad anxiety, but not as bad if it’s JJ.

“Can you not harass y/n while she’s working? I’d like to go home today.” Kie sighed, smiling at how sweet JJ was to me. 

“You’re just mad I get to take her sexy ass home, and you get stuck with this” JJ said, pointing to Pope. I chuckled, shaking my head at his antics. 

“Hey!” Pope exclaimed.

“Sarah and I got everything set up, text me right before you get there so we can bring out the food.” John B. tried, and failed, to whisper to JJ.

“Guys, what if she doesn’t like it?” JJ asked, I could picture a worried look on his face. 

“She will love it, I know y/n.” Kie said, I’m sure she was rolling her eyes at the blonde.

==============================

I practically sprinted to the back as soon as Kie’s dad gave us the ok to head out for the night. I was excited to spend some alone time with JJ. Both of us basically lived with John B, so we were never really alone. We really had never gone on a date either, we were always with the other Pogues getting into something. Of course I loved them, but it would be nice for one night to just be JJ and I. 

As soon as I walked to the front where JJ was waiting for me, he grabbed me up in his arms. We were both smiling like idiots, basking in our love. He leaned down and planted a sweet, tender kiss on my lips. I smiled into the kiss, making it hard for him to actually kiss me.

“Baby, stop I’m trying to get my kiss I was denied earlier.” he laughed, his lids heavy as he pulled back to look at me. 

“I can’t help it!” I giggled, grabbing his face to kiss him properly.

“Are you ready for the best surprise of your life?” he winked, pulling me out to the van.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” I grinned, thanking him as he opened my door for me. JJ jumped in the driver seat, throwing on his aviators

“I love you,” he said, gripping my hand.

“I love you J,” I whispered, smiling softly at him.

==================================

I was very confused when we arrived at The Boneyard, not expecting the surprise to be here....

“Why are we at the beach?” I asked.

“You’ll see, patience baby.” he said, tipping his sunglasses down to wink.

“You irritate me,” I huffed, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

“I promise you’ll love it.” he said, leaning over to kiss me quickly. 

JJ grabbed some stuff out of the back, opening my door when he was finished. He grabbed my hand once I jumped out of the van, taking us down the little walk way. I gasped, not believing the sight in front of me. A table was set up with a white table cloth, candles, and a vase of roses. Next to the table, a bed sheet was laid out with lots of pillows and blankets. On closer inspection, the plates on the table had my favorite meal along with a bottle of my favorite wine.

“JJ,” I whispered, tears gathering in my eyes.

“Do you like it?” he asked, scratching the back of his head.

“I love it, I love you.” I laughed, hugging him tight to me. I kissed him hard, hoping to show my appreciation for him.

“Let’s eat before the food gets cold.” he grinned, kissing my nose.

========================================

We talked, all evening long. Reminiscing on our most embarrassing moments of childhood, sometimes laughing so hard one of us almost choked. The best part of our relationship was the both of us having the same sense of humor, never a dull moment between us. I loved this boy so much, sometimes thinking about it made me want to cry. He was so kind, generous, and funny. He cared so deeply for me it left me stunned sometimes. I had known this boy my whole life, and he still was full of surprises. Kie and John B love to tease that they had never seen JJ look at a girl the way he looks at me.

“Want to go swimming?” he winked. Another great thing about JJ is that I didn’t have to worry about being embarrassed to be in a bathing suit, I mostly had to worry about him trying to tear it off of me.

“Where am I supposed to change? I didn’t even bring a bathing suit.” I chuckled.

“What if I didn’t want us to change?” he asked, his eyes clouding with an emotion I had never seen before.

“JJ, I’m not swimming in my clothes.” I scoffed, rolling my eyes.

“Didn’t say we were wearing our clothes baby.” he said, eyeing me up and down.

“So you want-you...you want to go skinny dipping?” I asked, my face turning red. 

“Mhm,” he nodded, his tongue poking out to lick his lips.

“I-I...I don’t know J.” I stammered. I had never been naked in front of JJ before, we hadn’t sealed the deal yet. I was nervous to say the least. He got up from his chair, coming to squat in front of me.

“If you don’t want to we don’t have to baby, it’s just something I’ve always wanted to do....with you.” he said, staring deep into my eyes. 

I really wanted to, but I was hesitant. I had never shared anything intimate with anyone before, and I would be lying if I said it didn’t absolutely terrify me. But this was JJ, and I knew he loved me with all my flaws. I knew I could trust him with my insecurities. 

“I just...I’m a little nervous. I-I’ve never been ya know, in the nude in front of anyone before.” I mumbled, not able to meet his gaze.

“You are the most beautiful girl in the world y/n, you know you don’t have to hide from me. I love you...how about, if it makes you more comfortable, I’ll go out first with my back turned, and you can meet me in the water.” he said, his eyes shining with hope.

“Ok,” I whispered, my cheeks flushing as he kissed me. 

He stripped, winking at me before running out to the water. I sat stunned, my eyes wide as saucers. The boy had to be sculpted by God himself, there was not a single flaw on his body. I got up from my chair, slowly removing my clothing. The wind was a tad chilly, so I wrapped a towel around me.

I walked out to the ocean, my nerves starting to skyrocket. My heart was thumping so hard in my chest, I was afraid it would jump out any second. I removed my towel just as the dry sand met the wet, letting my hair down as well. I was thankful the waves were calm, making it easier for me to reach JJ. I ducked down in the water, swimming closer to him. I grabbed his bicep, and he turned to face me. He got down in the water with me, pulling me closer to him. I leaned my forehead on his, nuzzling his nose.His ringed hands found my thighs, pulling my legs around his waist. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, his strong arms caged me to him.

“Not so bad is it?” he grinned, tipping his nose to mine.

“I guess not,” I chuckled, leaning back to look at the sky. “It’s so pretty, look at the stars.” I said in awe.

“I don’t need to look, I have you in front of me.” he said, and I couldn’t help but laugh at his cheesy line.

“That was cheesy even for you” I laughed, my stomach hurting from how hard I laughed.

“Well I thought it was romantic.” he huffed, pouting his lips. 

I pulled myself away from him, a mischievous look in my eyes. His eyes narrowed, knowing I was up to something. I jumped, dunking him underwater. I giggled at my childish ways, squealing moments later when JJ yanked me with him. We both resurfaced, his hand came to push his hair out of his face. He stood to his full height, stalking up to me. I backed away, the look in his eye was as if he were an animal, and I was his prey. I was so turned on I started feeling pulsations all over my body. My breathing became short, my eyes wide with anticipation. 

He snatched a hold of my wrist, I gasped as he yanked to to him. Our chests were touching, my hard nipples brushing his abdomen. I stared into his eyes that had grown darker with lust. My other hand brushed against his thigh, I got a burst of confidence and started to trail my hand up his thigh. Our faces were so close together I could feel his breath on my lips. I came in contact with his hard member, JJ groaned deep in his throat. 

I tested the waters, sliding my hand up and down to see what made him make that sound again. I slid my thumb over his tip, causing a shudder to run through JJ. He was starting to pant the faster I moved my hand, his whole body becoming more twitchy. His rings were digging into my skin, his grip on my waist insanely tight, but I didn’t mind. I was so overwhelmed with pleasure from watching JJ get off from just my hand took over my senses.

“Baby, please...you’re torturing me.” he moaned, thrusting his hips into my hand.

I hummed, leaning my cheek against his. I kissed down his neck, moving my hand slightly faster. His panting breaths were hitting my neck, he leaned down and bit my shoulder. I moaned loudly in his ear, the pain mixed with the pleasure had me rubbing my thighs to seek some kind of friction. He sucked on my skin, leaving his mark behind. I jerked my hand faster, stopping to rub my thumb over his slit. He cursed into my shoulder, biting down harder on it. 

“Fuck, shit...I-I’m gonna cum baby.” JJ groaned.

He only lasted a few more seconds before he was yelling curses, his member twitched in my hand. I was in awe of this man in front of me, the pure beauty of his face in absolute pleasure was astonishing. Once he came down, he smashed his lips to mine. I moaned in his mouth, tongues and teeth fighting in a passionate battle. 

JJ started to pull me towards shore, my heart clenched. He would see me fully naked before him, but I was so turned on I didn’t pay any mind to it. I had come to the realization that no matter what I thought about myself, JJ would love me no matter what I looked like. He loved me for the person I was, and he loved every inch of me. I wasn’t scared anymore, I wanted to be with him, and I wanted him to see me at my most vulnerable state. 

“I love you,” he whispered, pulling me to the sheet that was laid out with pillows and blankets.

We both laid down, JJ coming over me. I stared at how his arm muscles bulged as he held himself up, the veins in his arms coming to the surface. His shark tooth necklace dangled from his neck, I grabbed a hold of it and pulled him to me. Our lips met for a breif second before JJ pulled away, smirking at me. I grinned as his lips moved down my neck, stopping to make little love bites along the way.

“Our friends are going to make fun of me if you don’t stop marking me J,” I laughed.

“They’ll just know we had a good time princess, I think it’s a good look on you.” he smirked into my skin. 

He moved lower, my giggle turning into a moan as he took my nipple into his mouth. He nibbled lightly on it, sending tingles all the way down to my lower regions. His other hand came to play with my other nipple, his cold rings making me shiver. My hips shifted under him, the need to feel him in my most private area becoming almost too much. JJ finally began to move, kissing the valley between my breasts and lower. He kissed all around my stomach, knowing it was one of the areas on my body I was most insecure about.

“I love you here, and here, and here.” he kissed my stomach, my waist, and my hips. Eventually kissing all over my body, a huge smile played on my features. My cheeks began to hurt from how big my smile was. My heart soared with love for this boy in front of me.

“I love you J,” I whispered, waving my hand through his drying blonde locks. 

JJ got down between my legs, propping himself on his elbows. My breath hitched in my throat as I felt his breath near my heat. I choked on a moan as he took a long lick all the way up my heat, my hips bucked into his face. His strong arms came around to hold my hips down as he licked and sucked all over my heat. My hand got tighter in his hair, yanking him closer to me. He shook his head to get as deep as possible, a long moan forcing itself from my throat. He dipped his fingers all over my wetness and his saliva before entering a finger inside me. It was a little uncomfortable at first, but I relaxed myself. When I got used to the feeling, JJ entered another finger, and bean scissoring them inside me. He sucked on my clit as his fingers began to move faster, curling inside of me. His fingers hit that special spot inside me, stars forming in my vision.

“JJ, baby, please!” I begged, squirming underneath his hold. 

“Don’t interrupt me while I’m eating babygirl or you won’t get your treat.” he smirked, I groaned and threw my head back against the pillow. 

He moved his fingers faster, pounding them inside of me at this point. His head shaking to get his tongue as far as it could go, alternating to sucking my clit. I could feel the knot in my stomach ready to snap, the obscene noises from JJ’s fingers inside me was like music to my ears. 

I let go, screaming JJ’s name over and over again. My hips tried to move off the sheet, but JJ threw his arm across me to hold me down. Sucking and licking until I started to twitch. He sat up, a proud smile on his face. I could see his chin glistening with a mix of me and his saliva, he brought his fingers to his mouth to suck them clean. It was the sexiest thing I had ever seen him do, I looked down and saw that he had become hard again. The need to feel him inside of me taking over.

“I want you inside of me JJ,” I whispered, the sultriness of my voice surprising me.  

“Are you sure?” he asked, leaning down to kiss my cheeks.

“Yes,,I want you.” I said, sliding my hands down his sides.

“You tell me if you want me to stop ok? Do I need a condom?” he asked, raising a brow at me.

“Yes, and no. I’m covered.” I said, pulling his mouth to mine. 

He poked his member where the wetness seeping out of me was, slicking it up before slowly entering inside me. I could feel the sting, my nails dug into his biceps. He stopped for a moment watching my face. I relaxed myself, giving JJ a nod to continue. He slid all the way in, stopping to let me get used to being full of him. We were both panting at this point, JJ’s pupils were blown wide with pleasure. 

After a few moments, JJ started thrusting slowly. The uncomfortable feeling started to fizzle away and I began to feel nothing but pure ecstasy. I gasped when JJ started moving faster. His eyes were glued to where we were becoming one, his breathing becoming short. I grabbed a hold of his hair, yanking his lips to mine. Our tongues moved in sync as we both moaned into each other’s mouths. JJ tilted our hips, the new angle causing him to hit somewhere inside me that made me yelp. I threw my head back, moaning his name as a feeling of pure bliss sky rocketed through me. I could imagine him smirking at me, loving the way he made me say his name. He was pounding into me at this point, an animalistic growl leaving his throat as he chased his high. He brought one hand down to my clit, adding to the exceeding pleasure.

“Are you there baby?” he asked, his breath hitting my lips.

“Yes, fuck.” I squeaked as he hit that spot again.

He started to move faster, the sloshing sounds becoming more obscene from where we were one. His thumb on my clit moved impossibly swift, my legs starting to shake as I was almost to my peak. Both of us let go at the same time, JJ’s head fell to my neck, moaning loudly in my ear. I screamed his name, my legs twitching and shaking as I clenched on his member. My nails scratched hard down his back, a hiss coming from JJ as I’m sure I left welts behind. We both came down from our highs, JJ leaned to plant a soft kiss on my lips. He reached over to get a towel to clean ourselves off, pulling a blanket over us.

“You’re amazing, I’ve never came so hard in my life.” he sighed, flopping down on the sheet.

“You’re lying” I scoffed, rolling my eyes at him.

“No I’m serious, I felt like I was having an out of body experience. Rest up my love because we’re doing that again.” he smirked, his hand traveling down to squeeze my ass.

“Are you sure you’ll be able to go again, I think I might have wore you out J.” I giggled, tracing my fingers over his abs.

“Is that a challenge?” he asked, quirking a brow at me.

“Maybe..” I mumbled, biting my bottom lip as I stared into his eyes.

He rolled on top of me, his tongue poking out to lick his lips. He leaned down close to me, our lips just brushing together. I breathed out shakily, my eyes wide with anticipation. 

“I love you baby, thank you for giving me you.” he said sweetly, his eyes holding so much love I could have cried.

“You’re the man of my dreams J, there’s no one else I would rather have shared this with.” I grinned.

“And I’ll be the last, that I’m sure of.” he smirked, earning an eye roll from me.

“You’re so full of yourself,” I giggled.

“I plan on keeping you for a long time, so buckle in princess.” he smiled wide, leaning down to kiss me before I could let out my witty reply.

“Love you,” he said against my lips.

“I love you,” I whispered, caressing his cheeks.

[brideofcthulhu10]

How would the boys react to their s/o teasing them to the point of them snapping? X)

Oh you thirsty, thirsty fang babies. Do y'all realize my most liked and shared post is the Soundtrack Sex post? Alright you little hungry bats, only cuz I love y'all. Keep in mind since I've done a few like this before, I'm going to be diving more into each guy's individual kink. I think all of them are into some form of bdsm but to varying degrees. They're sadistic killers after all, so they'll crave that same control over their s/o. Again with each vamp having his own preferences. Get ready because this gets pretty graphic. Y'all better appreciate this, it took me two and a half frickin' days!

The Lost Boys Get Pushed to the Brink by Fem!S/O 

18+ CONTENT WARNING: Sexual Themes, BDSM, Potential Triggers, Offensive Language! READER'S DISCRETION IS ADVISED!

David 

David knows all too well what you're doing. You must think you're quite clever. The way you sway your hips when you walk across the boardwalk, dropping your purse "accidentally" and bend over to get it, pressing your breasts tightly against him for even the most casual hug. Don't think just because  you're in public he won't fuck you here. David has no patience whatsoever. What he wants he'll have. You're not nearly as sneaky as you think you are when you press your butt against his crotch, leaning back so your lips are just brushing against his neck sending tender little breaths across his chilled flesh. He'll run his hands over any exposed skin you have, and just below your ear he'll coolly growl little threats. 

"If you continue to tease me, little doll, I am going to fuck you until you shatter."

The words will send chills down your spine and light a fire inside you. That's not a warning, that's a challenge. When it's finally too much he'll tear you away to the nearest dark corner and rip your panties off. Just look what you did to him, the way he throbs until his erection is aching to break free. You will remember who is in charge when he hoists you right on top of throbbing his cock, balancing you with ease on his hips. He doesn't even have to hold you up, and instead uses his other hand to choke the pretty little words from that naughty mouth. Cautious not to strangle, he’ll tightly press his thumb right over the prominent vein in your neck savoring the rush of blood just beneath the skin.The gruff moans he huff out make your eyes roll back with delight. David loves the way your flesh clings to him, but you better not make a sound. If you even so much as whimper he halts his motions, leaving your body starved. No one is allowed to hear your moans but him. David doesn’t share in any way. Afterwards don't even bother asking for your panties back when you two sneak out of that secretive corner. He'll stuff then in his pocket with the most villainous grin you have ever seen. 

"Consider it punishment for being such a wicked little minx, love."

Now if you're in the hotel you're not gonna get very far teasing him. He'll raise a brow, just barely looking up from his book to see you in that skin tight dress, it doesn't take him long to realize you are without a bra. If you don't come to him when called, he'll go to you. You haven't even seen speed until you deny your lover his precious doll. In a flash you're swept into his arms, thrown atop a bed laying flat on your stomach. With a slow touch, David will lift your chin from behind and lean himself against you. You shouldn't have run, shouldn’t have hid your perfect body from him. When you're alone he drags it out so much more. 

Leather clad fingers will tease your lips, pushing ever so slightly but denying you the sweet release you so desperately yearn. He's such a cruel one taunting you, massaging your tender breasts just whispering into your ear. Naughty girl, are you wet already? He's just barely started. With a flick of the wrist he snaps his belt from his pants, dragging the cool leather piece over your exposed cheeks. The sting across flesh makes you moan, and again he sends a strike. David’s low chuckle is addicting. He takes a moment to admire your quivering form, tempted to leave you begging for more. That's what he wants more than anything. David desperately craves your wanton voice crying for him to defile you. He’ll just sit back, watching you lay in place. Don’t move, he’ll tell you. Instead he’ll order you to play with yourself. Show him how badly you yearn for his touch. The power fuels him, looking at your glossy eyes while your finger yourself, whimpering his name softly. When you close your eyes it breaks contact, and again he crashes the leather into skin. Never hide from him. The sensation is enough to entice a moan from you, the muscles squeezing your fingers spasming in delight. So, you wanted more. He’d chuckle again. You’re such a silly thing. All you had to do was say so. Slow strips of red surface over your ass with every erotic whip. He’s cautious to etch the border between pain and pleasure, never crossing the threshold. It’s give and take. He sees the way it sends you into a tizzy, which in turn only excites him more. Cum drips down your thighs, but he’s not ready to let you finish. Slowly David will peel away his gloves, taunting you with his precious touch. Clothes are shed to the floor in a mass of black. Lifting himself on his knees he runs a hand down your back. He taunts your soaked pussy with the belt still tightly grasped in his hands. Just look at the mess you’re making. When he pauses, hinting at his next strike you beg again. 

“Please, what? Tell me what you want!"

“I wa.. want you.. to hi...hit me again..”

“Hit you..? Where? I don’t even think you said please, you greedy girl.”

“P-Please! M-master please! Hit my pussy! I-I can’t take it, please"

The hit stings, but it sends a bizarre pleasure through you. They mix in a sickly concoction. A heat of fire that causes your lips to pulse, and when he hits it again your eyes spin backward into black. He takes your wrists slowly and pins them behind, leaning over your body with his erection just barely grazing you. 

“You did this to yourself, baby doll. I warned you what would happen, didn’t I?”

The wrought leather strap constricts your arms, binding them to each other while you lay face down on your knees. He’s left you completely exposed to him, ass eagerly in the air. Soaked sheets caught beneath your knees, any orgasm he had led you too was quickly denied, leaving you crashing back at the bottom just to be built up again. You're so wrapped up in the pleasure of it all, you don't realize when he commands you to scream his name; he's actually begging. Say his name. He has to hear it, he needs to hear your voice cradle his name perfectly on those luscious lips.

When you give him what he commands he finally takes you. With a hand pinning you down by the back of your neck he'll ram himself so deep you fear you may break. The twisted slaps of flesh crashing against each other is nothing compared to the crying whines that echo these endless halls. Everything is spinning, your walls are torn away leaving you to spiral into madness. Every thrust presses you further beneath. You are at his mercy, and there will be none tonight. Each orgasm you had been denied came flooding back in wild waves, spilling out onto the mattress below. His name practically burns your tongue, there is no other word you worship so endlessly. This creature of the night had you under his thumb. Tonight he had more than your love, more than your body. He was taking your soul into his hands and locking it away. Time is lost to the world. There is no before or after. Now just went on forever. Surroundings blur into wild smears of color. There is nothing beside the bed you two laid upon. His moans are a godsend, they caress your ears. Velvet, silky, David is all you know.  It's a tirade of sweat and leather, stained in his cum. You can't even breathe as he fills you in floods, it's just this trembling simper. Not a drop is wasted inside your precious womb. When all is said and done, and you are a cum drenched mess David is, for once, genuinely tired after such heavy petting. Do not fear, lovely. He would never leave you to wallow in filth after he had battered you so. Its almost fluid the way he wraps you beneath fresh blankets, pressed to his panting chest. There would be no rhythm to soothe your body, rather his hypnotic touch bringing you back to Earth. With a cigarette already lit clutched between his teeth he'll coax you into taking a slow drag. You savor the bitter, ashen taste that burns your mouth. The plume of smoke leaves a veil of fog around you two, laying together while he softly praises you. His frustration was long gone giving way to his tender kisses trailing across your rosey cheeks utterly flushed  

"You were such a good girl, baby doll. You did wonderfully my little kitten, I couldn’t ask for a more precious gem. Rest, you deserve it. I’ll be here when you awake."

Dwayne

Dwayne is a closet pervert. He's a lot more modest than the other guys, which is ironic considering his attire, or rather the lack of it. But it's true, he's not the type to fuck in the back of a McDonald's by the dumpster just because you went a day without undies. When you show up to the boardwalk in a low cut top he'll aggressively clear his throat with the reddest face you've ever seen. Flustered is an understatement. He'll suddenly comment how cold it is tonight and immediately sling his jacket over your shoulders. So what if he's shirtless? He doesn't get cold. 

It's extremely hard for him to resist you when you're running your hands over his chest,sliding your  wrapping your arms around him just playfully running your fingers through his hair. It aches, he can feel his zipper about to burst. That leopard print strapless dress doesn’t leave much to the imagination, including your bare breasts left braless just beneath the fabric, it's just perfect under his leather jacket. He’ll swallow dryly. When no one looks he feels your mischievous touch trails down over his caged erection eager to taunt his libido. One wouldn’t assume Dwayne could get so pent up, but when he’s pushed to the brink all bets are off. 

You never expected to awaken a panther inside him once you two were alone. Those chocolate eyes were predatorial, wild, and that's when he takes you in his arms. A single kiss is enough to knock you off your feet. It’s melted heaven dripped onto your tongue. He draws breath from you, slowly peeling off his jacket. Your skin is so soft beneath torn, calloused fingertips caressing those trembling bumps spreading through your body. Chills, utter chills. You can’t help but rock your hips against him. Wandering lower he cups your butt until you’re tightly pressed again him, pausing those kisses. His words are soft, a sweet wine that gives you eternal life. 

“Tonight, your soul is mine”

The way his voice rumbled deep in your core pushes you forward, hungry for more. But his cruelty surfaces. There will be no wild, tearing sex. He wants to drag it out. Making love can’t compare to those moments when he lays you on your back just to worship your sprawled figure. The deep, dark cave is barely illuminated by the wild flicker of candles wedged inside discarded wine bottles, the warm slips of light dipping over every curve in your body. You look like a goddess to him, and tonight you’d meet your god. Kisses trail up your silky legs, the way he shifts over you is like a tiger ready to pounce. Eyes eat you alive. His teeth drag, leaving tender little love bites. It’s an agony of anticipation swelling you. With a firm grip Dwayne tears your dress from your very body. Those same calloused fingers that taunted your skin now trailed over the dips and folds of your thighs tracing over your pelvic bone. A cascade of black hair veiled his face when he leaned in. You couldn’t see it, but you could feel hungry, labored breaths taunting your exposed womanhood. You draw in a sharp breath when his tongue slowly drags from the base all the way up and over your clit. The sensation envelopes you in waves. Slowly, aching, toe-curling licks prod at you, one after another. You wish he’d speed up, but he has you exactly where he wants you. Begging for more, utterly helpless to his will- just like you did to him. Fire wells in your lungs as you’re only able to writhe beneath him. Resistance was pointless, that iron grip kept your hips perfectly in place. He teases at your clit with wicked flicks, tracing around your most tender place. Grasps of his hair are clutched between your fingers, but it only excites him more. Dwayne will grant you mercy, slipping his tongue inside to lap up your sweet juices. 

It’s impossible to truly describe the ecstasy he sends you into, Your legs hook over his shoulders just grinding your hips into his masterful grasp. Shuddering moans reverberate in empty halls, waves serenading just beyond. That edge is so nearby, dragging you by your ankles until your back arches upward. Karma is a cruel mistress indeed. Dwayne’s tongue slithers out leaving a trail of slippery fluids behind. If you try to move he’ll climb over your body, his hands pinning your arms above your head looking in your eyes. Again that monstrous tongue taunts you. Twirling over your perked breasts. With his other hand he prods at your entrance, never breaking eye contact with you. The sheer intimacy of it all is utterly ethereal. When you hear his hungry grunt just under your breath just feel another pull at your abdomen. It’s just too much, you need him. More than ever before. “Dwayne,” you whimper, thighs trembling under him. “P-Please… I..”

“Say it, princess…”

“I need you… D-Dwayne I… I need you”

You’re dwarfed beneath his body, lifted beneath your butt with his hips pressed into your lower half. Something burning pushed itself tightly in. You were barely able to accommodate his size even with how much he had spread you before. Each thrust pushed your body back further into the mattress, firm hands keeping you crushed against his heaving chest. You wrapped a leg over his wait using the base of your heel to push him further inside. Dwayne pushed against your womb desperately trying to pace himself. When he pulled back a slick suction coaxed him back inside, contracting muscles clinging to his veined member. You feel a dull ache in your back all the way up to your shoulders that tightens when he digs himself deeper. His lips caress yours, tongues eagerly tasting one another until you lock lips. He begins to moan louder. It’s a deep, almost bear-like growl. There’s a rapid pace to his thrusts now. They become erratic bucks, moans lost in each other’s mouths until you feel that familiar throb inside. It’s a burn that practically melts you. You feel more fluids squishing out, your nails dragging up his back tearing into skin until his hips stall. It’s a perfect moment, Dwayne lifting his head letting you gaze into his dark eyes carrying a flickering flame. You’re veiled beneath his hair, unable to hold back your glowing smile. When he pulls out to lay on his back you nestle in his arm up against his chest, listening to his shuddering breaths. There’s not much that can be said after that, you’re so worn out that you can barely keep your eyes open and simply savor his company until exhaustion lulls you into a heavy sleep in the arms of your lover. You definitely had to start teasing him more often if this is what you got. 

Paul

That boy will chase your butt even if you weren’t teasing him. But catch him off guard, and he’ll make you regret ever getting him that pent up. You knew exactly what was up when you showed up in that  busty shirt giving him a mouth watering view of your glorious tits, a teenie little miniskirt clinging to your figure, those hot fishnets under a pair of biker boots, immediately he already tries to swoop you into his arms- except you beat him to the punch. Your breasts press tightly against him, hands wrapping around his waist while you go in for the kill. Oh when you kiss his neck it makes him melt. Fine if you wanted to play, he’d play. And he’ll win. When you think it’s safe he’ll sneak up behind you to get a good handful of your ass, burying his mouth up against your neck growling into you. That’s when you start grinding it up against his pants and you’re really not surprised that he’s already hard. In a quick slip he catches his hands under your skirt. 

Oh this just keeps getting better. You filthy kitty cat. He’s had enough, he pulls you to the alleyway in a mess of hot kisses. There’s barely time to react, his tongue slithering in to taste every inch of your mouth. There’s hardly a struggle when he tears a big enough hole in your fishnets for him to get access to your glorious pussy. There's the echo of vulgar clapping barely kept under by the hustle and bustle just only feet away. Paul isn't about to cover your mouth. You don't get the luxury, he wants to fuck you until the whole state of California knows you live for his cock. You shouldn't have pushed him, because now he's determined to make your head spin. The rough concrete walls scratch up against your shoulders, your front completely crushed against his heaving chest growling out snarls and heavy moans. Don't even try to beg for mercy, he'll just laugh. The whole time he's hissing into your ear.

"No more? That's not what your little pussy is tellin' me. God you're so fuckin' cute when you're screamin' my name kitten. Louder, fuckin' louder! I want everyone to know who you belong to!"

If it's not an alleyway he'll happily go into one of the larger ferris wheel kiosks. Yeah he knows you can be seen, barely kept hidden beneath a sheet of metal and a few choice windows. You don't have much choice, pulled into a straddle over his lap as soon as you get on. You're not even ten feet in the air when his fingers start to tease you. 

"God you really do get a kick outta makin' me crazy don't you? You're already soaked."

Surprise, Paul had a bit of experience shredding a few tasty licks on a guitar not too long ago. Why did that matter? Because once those appendages slithered in, you almost immediately let out one of the loudest moans of your life. The way they pushed past his knuckles, swirling around, curving up hitting the sweetest spots even you hadn't touched before. It's impossible not to tightly cling to him. While you're utterly incapacitated he'll tear down your shirt and twist your pink nipple between his thumb and point finger. He'll tease you, suggesting maybe you oughta get them pierced. If you try to pull away he'll glance up towards the other kiosks just barely out of sight and smirk pulling you back into place. After all, we wouldn't want everyone else seeing how dirty you were. Everytime your body adjusted to the size he'd slip in another finger. Those muscles just sucked him in so perfectly, your sweet juices drenching his hand as he dug further inward. The moment you whine you're going to come is when the fun really begins. Paul's not just going to give it to you. Oh no, not yet. After all, you teased him, made his poor dick ache until it almost broke his zipper. It was his turn to tease you. You could hear his belt clink against itself and his fly slowly drag down. His cock practically whipped against your pulsating entrance once released, but rather than ram it right up inside where it belonged, he'd grab you by your chin and boast the most cruel, wild smile you'd seen. Stuffing himself inside, he halts watching your head immediately knock back at the sheer rush of pleasure that sent your back muscles into a spasm. With little effort he bounced you atop his lap. But you've still got a lot to make up for. Even while he penetrates you he's shoving his fingers inside as well until you're completely full, wiggling his tongue across your tits. The sensation makes your mouth hang open. There's no moans left. Just guttural whimpers barely able to make it through until you are left panting for air. You can't even keep your eyes open, it's too much to take. When you're on the brink of climax he'll halt again, burrowing his throbbing cock so deep you swear it's about to break your womb. The torture is unimaginable, he's just firmly wedged in place sending spasming pulsations that spread from the inside out. He fought the urge to ravage you. His revenge was just too cruel to give up now. WHen your hips tried to shift he planted them firmly against his naked pelvis. “Don’t fuckin’ move, or I’ll pull out.” The tight ache of your stomach just grew and grew but there was no relief! You beg wildly for him not to stop, tears edging the corners of your eyes. Do it more. Scream his name! 

Everything inside burns white hot, gushes of sticky wet juices squirting onto his lap and the seat beneath you. For a moment you could feel your soul trying to fly away. After all you just experienced nirvana, fucking Valhalla on steroids. It's easily a good five minutes before you can even speak instead of just moaning out slurred vowels. When you do come to, you immediately slug him in the shoulder. Jeeze! You were teasing him, he was just flat out torturing you! "Well next time don't fucking tease me, my dick was just dying for you, kitten!" After you've got feeling back in your legs he'll release the ferris wheel attendant and take you out for a sweet treat, probably ice cream. Oh yeah! He almost forgot. You watch as he fishes out a pair of your panties, a souvenir from your many sex exploits. Don't get him wrong, he'd rather you be commando, but you were still oozing out cum. Besides, he wasn't patient but he could wait an hour to tear into you again. W-wait? An hour? Again??

Marko

The moment you stepped foot on the boardwalk he knew something was up. Since when did you own a skirt that short? You practically jumped into his arms when you spotted him, a chill running over his flesh. Your bra was missing, perked nipples rubbing into his chest just beneath the tight fabric of your shirt hugging your breasts perfectly. Now he’s not nearly as ballsy as Paul or David, he can’t just fuck you in the alley. Well, he could, but the situation called for drastic measures. He wasn’t about to give you the satisfaction of riling him up. Rather, he has to plan this out just right. Revenge is a dish best served cold- WHICH ISN'T EASY WHEN YOU'RE OVERHEATING HIM!

God, it aches! Half the time he doesn’t leave any sort of counter or object he can lean on to hide away his pressing member begging to be unleashed. Plans would have to be dragged out, apparently this naughty girl wanted a whole date to torture him with. At the arcade he nearly lost his damn mind when you bent over to fish out your quarters from the machine. Yooooouuu vicious kitten, this was torture! When he stuffs his hands in his pockets he finally finds your panties, snuck in there while you had been hugging him. While you tore it up at the pinball machine he’d lean on you from behind. From any outside point of view it was just a boyfriend hugging his girl from behind. What couldn’t see was Marko’s hips grinding into your tender body barely kept safe under that tiny cut of fabric. When he whispered, he’d warn you what’s going to happen if you keep all this behavior up. Do you want him to go crazy, you wicked kitten?

“Careful what you’re doing, baby girl,” he’ll hiss in your ears, his fingers just barely brushing across the edge of your skirt. “When I get you alone… you’re mine.” At first it seems like a bluff. However you didn’t often send him into a fuss quite like this. Any teasing was at the hotel, little kisses and bites. Never was he denied for so long leaving him clinging to you. Every grasp craves you, but no matter how he snarls wicked begging into your ear you torture him further, even slipping from his arms when he least expects it. Tender kisses could never reach the passion you taunted him with. The loss of touch leaves him cold and yearning for more. At his brink, Marko practically tears you by your waist into his arms, jagged blue eyes cutting past your mischief. He’s taking you home. Now.

The entire ride across wind blown dunes and crashing shores he never releases you. Even as you rapidly step over debris scattered around the hotel’s entrance he cuffs his fingers around your slender wrist. Tonight you’ve made a very grave error denying him. For hours. Hours! Hours of watching you saunter about with nothing beneath, egging him on until he was ready to break. Now, it was his turn to punish you for your wicked ways. Marko had always been a tender lover, his dominant behavior kept cautiously under wraps. After all, he was afraid to frighten you off. No longer. With a firm flick of his wrist he practically throws you on the bed, pinning you in place by your neck. The force from the fall alone nearly knocked the air from you. There was an eerie silence for a moment, a dark tension emanating off of your boyfriend. His breathing would be sharp and trembling just barely keeping himself composed.

Honestly the urge to smirk is just too hard to pass up. Marko loved to tease you, rubbing up against your butt, nibbling on your neck when no ones looking, yet throw you in some tight clothes where he can't have you and suddenly it's unfair. His kisses ravage your mouth. There's little room to breathe. Wet appendages spiral in desperate taste for more. It physically hurt you to feel him pull away, leaning forward trying to keep the kiss going. 

"Uh uh," he taunted, fangs poking through his smile, pushing you onto your back again. "You were too cruel, baby girl. Now I get to have my way."

Using the panties you had previously crammed into his pocket he tightly tied your wrists together until the fabric began to dig into your flesh. Slowly he trails his claws over your clothing, tearing through it in one painstaking cut leaving your body utterly exposed to him. The cold night air dances around you, any movement halted as if invisible strings held you in place. Hungry gazes froze your blood. Flicking his thumb nail just over your pelvis, Marko savored the tiny hiss you unleash. Little beads of ruby decorate you with an enticing aroma. Pulling himself between your bare legs he took a slow, deep inhale of that hypnotic ambrosia. His tongue dragged over your wound sending a thin sting up your thigh. While his tongue tore at bloodied flesh his gloved fingers traced just over the flesh above your clit. The anticipation alone made your toes curl. Time slipped through your fingertips tips like sand through the hourglass. Every painful minute he edged closer to you, and when that cold touch reached your aching mound it swept away your thoughts in one foul swoop. How he managed to leave you so weak from a simple touch was beyond comprehension. You tried to squirm when he pet at your entrance with a single finger, but he immediately hooked his arm around one leg while using his knee to pin down the other. "You're not getting out of this," Marko hisses, pressing his nail into the wound until a trickle of crimson fluid spilled over into the crevice between your thigh and pelvis. He tempted it further, smearing layers of color across your womanhood watching it stain. 

Already drips of clear, slippery fluids drenched his fingers, just barely pushing in to feel your muscles tighten. Any contact swallowed them. If you were a good girl and held still he'd push further, tempting a third finger. Now come on, he knew you could do better than that. In went a fourth, spreading you open watching with amusement as all your juices spill down onto the mattress beneath you. He laps up the sweet taste, sucking it off his fingers and leaving you still aching from more. Just look at you, so eager for him to be inside you. Marko throws his shirt and pants to the floor. You can see his pulsing shaft pressing up against the fabric of his underwear. Firmly he pulled you up by your bound hands, teasing your bottom lip with his thumb. He’d rub his fingers against your tongue, the soft appendage wrapping excitedly over his knuckles. With his freshy wet hand he'd pinch your nipples, waiting for the inevitable whimper that gave him an opening to ram his own tongue back inside your mouth. A vulgar string of saliva barely kept your mouths connected when he pulled away, holding up your chin with his pointer finger. "I think you need more than just a little tease, don't you?"

When you nod he weaves his fingers beneath your hair and grasp it towards the scalp, bending your head back. Fangs brush on your neck, tugging at tight skin easily broken. Laying with his back against the headboard he yanked you over to him, pulling you down so you were balancing on your knees and forearms. 

"Suck it." The command was so firm, you almost thought you misheard him. No, you wanted it so bad? Fine. Now you got it. Open up, or he'd leave you drenched, trembling, on the edge of orgasm.  With wrists still restricted you pulled away his boxer unleashing his wild erection that eagerly pressed against your mouth. Marko will sit like a king in his throne with fingers woven through your hair. He makes sure it's all out of the way and in his grasp, watching your mouth bobbing up and down his shaft leaving slippery trails of saliva in its wake. His hips will begin to buck on their own with his tip grinding into your tongue. There’s a small push at the base of your skull, coaxing you further down. “There you go baby, get as much as you can fit in there, suck it nice and good.” You can feel his muscles tense under your grasp but you don't stop, continuing your relentless barrage until he snaps. All that pent up ache will flood your mouth in one foul swoop. It's hot, sticky, sweet and before you dared to open your mouth he pinched your nose. You better not waste a fucking drop. When he’s felt you’ve learned your lesson he gently pulled you on top of him, teasing your aching lips, swelled, pulsing, begging for release with the burning tip of his cock. You were such a good girl, taking all of him in like that, think you can do it again? 

Leaning back with you on top where he can watch you, he rocks his hips back and forth with such force it bounces your breasts, his conniving whispers commanding you to never look away. His icey blue orbs lock with your own. Utterly hypnotic. Sloshing squelches of liquids were churned around inside you. It pushed further with muscles tightly contracting around him. Your body is coated in a tender mist of perspiration, whimpers and whines creating a symphony of erotica that leaves you feeling a well of humiliation. There’s nowhere to hide from Marko’s prying eyes, he’s watching every curve, ever fold, every perverted expression contort your beautiful face and he lives for every moment. Your hips move on their own, grinding your clit against his pelvis while his veined shaft spirals around inside you. Vision fades in and out, all you can do is feel fire running through your veins. He felt so cold inside yet it burned. As you edge towards climax Marko lifts himself up and hooks your bound arms over his neck. Your raw nipples rub up on his bare chest, burying your face into his neck where a mass of messy curls cradle you. The intoxicating scent of your body sends him into a frenzy, grasping your ass assisting you in slamming down harder and harder until that deep, overwhelming tension bursts like a flooded dam. A rush of liquids squirt out, feeling him stretch out your insides. It fills you, and rather than pull out he holds you in place. The sensation of you pulsating causes his hips to buck until he slams into your womb with a final spray of cum painting your lower abdomen. Barely able to pull himself out he releases your raw wrists, stealing a hot kiss from your quivering lips. You just look so cute painted in his cum. Maybe next time you’d think twice about taunting him. Now that your punishment has finished, he crashes onto his back with you on top. Even he had to catch his breath. There is no guilt, but that doesn’t mean he won’t praise the hell out of you for being such an angel. He’ll practically hum when you play with his hair while he rubs your back, peppering kisses all over your head and cheeks.

“I’m… sorry for teasing you,” You whimper out, nestled in the crook of his neck. His chuckle makes his chest spasm, lithe fingers tracing shapes over your shoulders.

“Don’t be sorry baby girl, you did amazing. Maybe next time I’ll try to be gentle, hm?” 

[onelastbreath-writes]

I’ll Meet You There (Part 3)

Pairing: Marcus Moreno/ Wife!Reader (AFAB, no y/n) 

Word Count: 2.6K

Warnings: Talks about loss of spouse, loss of child, medical conditions/inaccuracies, grief/mourning, manipulation/brainwashing (subtext/implied, but we’ll get into it later *winkwink*)

Tags: Hurt/No comfort (for now), ANGST, eventual happy ending, one really sad man for whom I just keep making things worse, #sorrynotsorry, and now I’m just making stuff up as I go along

Summary(lite): You are Marcus’s wife, and you’re definitely not dead. No one is having a great time right now, but like hell if there's a force on this earth that’ll keep you apart forever. This is not a goodbye, its just a see you later. And the interim is going to be everyone else’s problem, you’ll make sure of it.

A/N: Hello dears, welcome back to my twisted mind story,,, guess who showed up like 2 weeks late with a smoothie! So things about this new chapter: I am a criminal with italics and someone needs to stop me, hello switching scenes and perspectives because I just want to fast forward to the good stuff but y’all don’t live in my head and don’t know all the stuff that happens to get us there so here we are taking the slow lane, and I keep brainstorming new and horrible things for my characters because I am A Lot, All The Time, and will not be stopped. Also hey, Marcus the Simp is here for you, so much. I hope this is acceptable to be a reader fic still, because I am giving you some serious personality traits... ehh, it is what it is. Tell me if you spot any of my various references, there’s a lot of ‘em. Thanks to everyone who has liked/reblogged/commented, y’all are gorgeous and I’m so grateful for the love <3 Drop me a message/ask if you want a secret about one of the characters (specify which one), I need an outlet for my endless b.t.s. plotting >;) Please enjoy p3!

AO3|Masterlist

[Previous Part]

---

There were more casseroles in his fridge that Marcus knew what to do with, and more sympathy and “thinking of you” cards stacked in piles around the house than he could count. He appreciated everyone’s gestures, but he could recognize the difference between people who were kind in the interest of helping others, and those who were kind only to help themselves. It was quite obvious which type were flooding his mailbox.

Hell, most of the people sending him cards, his fans, didn’t even know his wife, never spoke to her, didn’t feel the empty Her-shaped-space in their very souls. They just wanted the clout, the prestige, of being ‘involved’ and sympathetic to a grieving superhero. It was exhausting, but no one seemed to empathize with him on that.

The Heroics upper management, and the director specifically after his press conference and the publicity the attack had brought the organization, had insisted on Marcus taking an undetermined amount of leave from the team so he could “process and mourn his loss in the comfort of his own home.” Like he didn’t look around and see every piece of himself and his wife over the years; the Home they built for their family, filled with all the hopes and dreams of two starry eyed lovers ready to take on the world together. Like her absence wasn’t slowly killing him. 

And it wasn’t like she was gone gone.  

Dead.  

She wasn’t dead.

No way in Hell.  

Whether it was because she worked with superpowered people, her experience as a medical professional, or if she was just more paranoid than most, his wife was a planner, and she was prepared for this. “In the event of my death...," like she just knew it would be necessary.

Truthfully, she had schemes and contingencies and all manner of reactionary plans prepared for if (and when) the worst happened; terrified to be blindsided or caught unaware, unable to help those she would have been able to, if only if she had the time to think. Unpreparedness costs lives in both of their careers, and she refused to leave anything up to chance if possible. And so, she’d plan, and he’d listen.  

All throughout their relationship, from before they’d even gotten serious enough to discuss marriage, to when they heard their unborn child’s heartbeat for the first time, and just on random weekday afternoons when they would take Missy for walks around the neighbourhood to show her the beauty in their lives, his wife would paint her theories and ideas like artwork. She’d tell him a story, full of action and mystery, humour and theatrics, tragic romance and harrowing adventure; she could spin a tale like she had a silver tongue, but she never lost herself in her own narratives. In the end, they were messages, lessons, for him to remember when everything was going wrong.    

“It’s all about momentum, babe. Bleeding off energy and taking a bad hit instead of a fatal hit. You can’t just full stop; you’d absorb all the kinetic energy, and the resulting trauma will turn all your squishy internals into, like, body soup, which is just super unpleasant. And of course, head is always number one priority. Bracing for impact works better at giving you fewer serious injuries, especially for your neck and head. Muscles should absorb as much of the energy as possible, instead of letting it fall to your ligaments, discs, and nerves to take the force. So, tense up and roll in the case of a low air evacuation.”

Low air evac... she was concerned he was going to have to jump from an aircraft without a parachute at some point in his life. Which was probably accurate he’d admit, but still, he wasn’t hoping to actually need that plan.

Thankfully, it wasn’t always fire and brimstone with her, and she had many strange and terrible schemes to keep the common, everyday superhero family on their toes. Always carry at least two lip balms... never tell someone you don’t have plans for the evening... don’t smile in your mugshot... no clowns. Ever.

She was so weird, a total nerd, and so completely the girl of his dreams.  

He loved teasing her about her unending train of thought, the brain that never sleeps, how she’d go on tangents while on tangents but always circle back around; even nicknamed her (quite cheekily, and because it made them both laugh) Doctor Batman, which was usually saved for when she was being particularly dramatic and gloomy. Turn the supercomputer off for a second, Bats, come see what Missy’s doing!  

He was her anchor, always ready to pull her back to earth when she started drifting off too far from them, but he never asked and never wanted her to change. He adored her, silly or serious, or when she woke him up in the middle of the night to make him promise that he’d never get their kid(s) a pet owl (because they’re “scary”, and “our kids would be too powerful, Marcus. Promise me!”), or that in the event of them inviting a third to their bed, it would “absolutely never, ever, ever be Miracle. No way!”  

He thought it was quite entertaining most of the time, listening to her plan for zombies and old gods and what to do if everyone just started hating cheese one day, but if it was all so important to her: having him remember this or agree to that, he’d accede to her requests in a heartbeat. Most of it was cute, harmless stuff he didn’t think would even happen, but sometimes she would hit him with serious stuff. Entirely out of left field, she’d go for his heart, and ask him for things that would hurt him, destroy him inside, if he ever had to follow through with it.

“Marcus, if it’s a choice between my safety- my life, and Missy’s? I’m always going to choose her. Kids come first, okay?”  

She wasn’t superpowered, didn’t have a shred of anything other than pure, normal human in her, but she was easily the strongest person he knew. Fearless and brave, kinder than this world deserved, she’d do anything for the people she cared about. And she’d promised him, maybe as a way to repay him for all the things he’d agreed to over the years, that she’d move heavens and the earth to return to their family. That nothing in this world, or beyond, could keep her away. “Eventually,” she’d stared into his eyes, glossy with tears from how forcefully she believed, “I will find my way back to you. I swear it, so keep a weather eye on the horizon.” See? A whole-ass nerd, and he couldn’t have loved her more.

So, she wasn’t dead. Pure and simple. She was somewhere, somehow, and he was going to find her again.  

---

“Marcus, the grieving process is different for everyone, but it is always unpredictable and painful. You will have days where you will feel like you haven’t made any progress, or even lost the progress you’ve previously made, but please know that this is natural; it's something everyone experiences, and that it doesn’t mean you’ve failed in your objective. Healing takes time, and a major part of recovery is learning to forgive yourself when you slip up. No one expects you to be back to normal tomorrow, or next week, or next month. Healing from grief is not a race, so we will go at your own pace, and we will work together to accomplish your recovery goals. You aren’t alone in this journey, and you don’t need to handle everything by yourself.”

The grief specialist he was seeing was someone he would describe as an “old soul”. She exuded the patience and peace of someone who had watched empires rise and fall, seen the turning of the wheel of time and drifted along with the current. Her voice was deep, rich in emotion and empathy for those who needed guidance, calming and intriguing with a soft lilt on her vowels. Timeless and ancient all in one, and even if he wasn’t actually mourning the death of his wife, he did find himself deeply grieving being without her. They were two halves of a whole, and though his soul was at a loss without its partner here, he still had their greatest creation, their pride and joy, their baby girl to raise.  

He would do whatever he had to do to be the best parent he could for Missy. And so, if meeting with a physiatrist every week was something that would help, then he would be here, every week. He'd learn to live with his grief, his sadness and loneliness, with just the memory of his Everything, and he’d help their kid with all hers too.  

It’s what he promised to do, after all.

“If anything ever happens to me, you’ll just have to love her enough for the both of us.”  

---

There was nothing they could recover of the people closest to centre of the explosion. No remains, no blood, nothing. Like they hadn’t been there at all.  

Suspicious.

Upper Management had brought in a team of private investigators to handle the case, people who would keep the details quiet and the public appeased with what little information they’d choose to release.  

Marcus was a superhero, and sure, his job was to hit things until they weren’t a problem anymore, but he couldn’t understand why all the highly trained professionals didn’t question the sheer amount of evidence that just wasn’t adding up.  

He tried to bring up the inconsistencies once with the lead investigator, but they had just given the distraught, widowed husband, so lost in his own denial and grasping at straws, a sad smile and told him they would do everything they could to find the truth for him and the rest of the victims’ families.

Typical.

After being brushed off without a second thought, he decided to keep his ideas quiet, and since they’d proven their unwillingness to listen, he’d just have to solve the mass disappearance himself.  

“Have you ever thought about how to commit the perfect murder, mi amor? I have. First: If there’s no body, they can’t prove the person is dead. No evidence of death? No murder. Simple. But of course, completely vanishing a full human would be a challenge. Short of having the superpowers necessary to, like, erase someone from reality in their entirety, there would be a lot of chances to leave evidence. Ordering suspicious chemicals leaves a trail, driving out to a pig farm in the middle of the night is shady as hell and all neighbors are professional narcs, and fires? Hah! Do you have any idea how hot the fire needs to be to cremate human remains, and how long they would need to grill for? Huh, maybe the perfect murder isn’t a murder at all...  

Hey babe...  

Always doubt a body, but always doubt no body, more.”

---

You tended to lose time when there was no one else in your room. It was hard to tell when your eyes were open because you started dreaming about the only things you could see since you first woke up: drop-ceiling tiles, white walls, and pale blue curtain dividers. And it was easier that way, in the end. Your heart didn’t hurt when you only dreamt of the room. You couldn’t mourn the things and people only your soul could remember if you thought of the room. Drifting in and out of consciousness was how you were coping.  

---

You had been here, left in this room alone, for ages. You had agreed to help the man who had saved you from the explosion that killed your family, but apparently you couldn’t help him until you had recovered enough. You’d read your charts, grilled your nurses and doctors more and more the longer you were kept here. What were they all waiting for? There was nothing wrong with you except the mild post traumatic amnesia, and the whole not-remembering-much-(or anything, really)-about-your-personal-life-and-family-of-the-recent-few-years thing you had going on. It was nothing compared to when you first awoke and could remember nothing. It killed you to be without the memories of your husband and child, to know only of them instead of actually knowing them, but there was nothing you or the doctors here could do. The brain was a tricky thing, and you had to accept that your memory loss might be permanent.  

That just meant that you had to put all that you could remember to good use. You could help people here, and work towards getting justice for your family. Years and years of school, practical experience and training, you had gained it all back; re-read textbooks and studies, wrote papers on your re-emerging knowledge and jogged your memory about long nights and early mornings, surgeries and follow ups... it was all still in your head. It had returned to you easily, like diving into a cool pool on a hot summer day. It was like coming home and taking off your shoes; it felt good, freeing, as-it-should-be.  

But still they weren’t letting you leave. So: what were they waiting for?  

“Ah, Doctor, it’s lovely to see you, as always. How are we feeling today?” Okay, so the guy who “saved” you (read: paid the people who actually saved your life)  gave you the heebie-jeebies. He looked like a classic pompous asshole bigwig, like, oil tycoon or something. And he definitely had some sort of thing for you. Gross.

“I’m doing as well as can be expected, trapped in a room with nothing to do, you know, brain rotting, et cetera. Thanks for asking.” The sass was a choice, probably not a great choice, but your choice none-the-less. You really hadn’t had many opportunities to choose anything for yourself in a while.  

Well...

You were bored, and that was going to be everyone else’s problem.  

“Ah, well, good news then! You have been cleared from observation and you’ll be able to be discharged soon. Isn’t that just delightful!” Mister Craig (“Please, just Greg is fine”), was some sort of horrible group hallucination, you were convinced. No one was that cheery, that animated, unless they were on something, or you were on something. “I’ll have someone bring you your personal effects shortly, and then I can show you to your new apartment. The complex isn’t in the best neighbourhood unfortunately, but it's got some real charm, very vintage! You’ll love it!”

“I’ll look forward to seeing it then; sounds like it’ll be a real interesting place to stay. You can also explain what it is I’m going to be doing with your organization. Because you haven’t specified yet. And I expect a proper contract and wage agreement. Legally binding preferably, for your sake, of course, Mr. Craig.” Even if you weren’t the most physically intimidating person around, you knew how, and more so, when, to assert your dominance in a conversation. Especially with men like him. He was the type of guy who would pinch a nurse’s ass and then accuse them of not being able to take a joke.  

“You wound me, Doctor, I am a man of integrity! I promised you an opportunity to make a difference! To get justice for the loved ones so cruelly torn from you! You have nothing to worry about!”  

Sounds legit. Totally above board. Can’t wait.

---

Taglist (omg!! thanks love): @killtherandomness​

Drop me a line if you want to be added <3

[saltfics]

“You’re panicking?! I’m the one who got fucking *insert injury*!”

Blood, Gore & Injury Sentence Starters Thanks for the ask @bibliothesoph !! I made an Ao3 work for this and future sentence prompts here! But the whole fic is posted under the keep reading as well!

If you want to go really hard on the appreciation, you can tip your fellow writer here. Hope you enjoy!!

 Having famous last words is one way to go down in history. It’s not even just the profound ones that get all the credit. Sometimes, the ones remembered are those that were so cocky and topped with just the right amount of irony to be rendered iconic.  Alex has never forgotten John Sedgwick since he learned about him, not because of his great work as a military officer, but because he had the gall to say ‘they couldn’t shoot an elephant from that distance’. And then they did. 

Alex thinks he has a high chance of going down the same way. In fact, his last words might turn out to be, I can run that fast.

The light for the pedestrians switches from green to red just as he steps on the crossing, but the cars are still far away. Henry’s waiting for him outside the university library, and Alex is already twenty minutes late. I can run that fast, he thinks and dashes instead of stepping back. He doesn’t notice the car that’s mid-turn, a turn that’s far closer thanwhat he based his calculations on. I can run that fast. 

Famous last words.

There’s a precise moment when he realizes he’s completely fucked up, and he wastes one whole sixteenth of a second hoping it’s not the last time he ever gets to fuck up like that. He’s in the middle of the street, too far in to back away, too far away to make it to the other side. It’s a two-car lane. If he takes a step back, there’s something coming his way. If he takes a step forward, there’s another car coming his way. If he stays there  … Fucking fuckity fuck.

If he dies, Henry’s going to murder him.

Metal connects to his side and all that crap about your life flashing before your eyes? It’s still crap, but later he’ll swear time does slow down for him to think. Or his mind goes into overdrive. Same difference. He feels the first slam and he thinks, hey that wasn’t that bad.  He can’t see around him, can’t register his surroundings but he still manages one single, impossible thought in the middle of disaster: Brace yourself. You still have to land.

And maybe that’s why when he does fall on the asphalt, a good two feet away from where the car hit the breaks, his hands are out to protect his face. When his vision returns, he’s on his hands and knees in the middle of the street, his palms stinging from the rough slap against the asphalt. His legs are spread behind him and his backpack is too heavy on his back, pulling him to the side.

Alex is breathing hard, trying to take mental stock of his body. He’s afraid to try moving his legs, but he’s still in the middle of the fucking road, one of the lanes paused because of his stupidity. Okay, okay, he has to move.

He searches his body for any extreme aches that should cause him to panic, but the adrenaline must still be pumping through him because he doesn’t feel any pain. Relief spikes through him for a second. He’s fine. He’s actually fine. Henry’s not going to kill him. June is not going to have his head.

Then he actually tries pushing himself to his feet. Shit, nope, he’s wrong. He’s very wrong. Fuck.

Pain strikes, angry and bright like lightning up his leg, the second he considers putting some weight on it. The effect on him is still blurred, his mind reeling too much to properly panic or wonder what that means.

He doesn’t register the people walking towards him until two sets of hands grab his arms, while a third pries his backpack from his shoulders to lessen his load. Together they guide him to the nearest sidewalk. Alex is sure he says something to them. Thank you, or sorry, or an endless stream of both mixed together into a string of mumbled nonsense.

“Dude, are you okay?” one of the guys supporting him says.

“You should have been more careful,” reprimands the lady who’s still holding his bag. “Why did you cross like that?”

They lower him down into a sitting position again now that he’s not obstructing traffic anymore, and Alex’s head is starting to return to him. A small crowd is gathered around him, talking to him, asking him if he needs anything, but mostly just looking on, curious and worried in equal measure. He looks around for his backpack again, just to make sure it’s nearby. His laptop, including his fresh 25-page paper is in there and he has his priorities straight, damn it. 

He catches a glimpse of what he’s pretty certain is the car that slammed into him drive away as soon as the street is free again. Fucker.

“We should call an ambulance!”

“Should we drive you somewhere?”

“Is there anyone I can call for you, honey?”

That’s when his mind actually connects. “Oh, shit! Henry! Where’s my phone? I-I was holding it? Fuck, is it still on the street?” One of the guys who helped him pushes his phone into his hands. Alex is pretty sure he’s in his class. Shit, he needs to learn his name. Why is he such an ass with this stuff? “Thanks, man,” Alex offers him a guilty smile. “I’m—I’m good. I’m good, everyone! Thank you so much! I’ll just call my boyfriend to-to pick me up! It’s—”

“Alex?”

“Or he’ll find me first.”

The crowd parts as Henry pushes his way through, and soon starts to scatter. The lady hands his backpack to Henry as she leaves, and he accepts it, confused. Alex watches as Henry’s eyes roam over him, widening as he takes him in, sitting on the dirty sidewalk, his leg spread out carefully, his clothes rumpled. And he’s grateful there’s a lack of carnage on him, no blood or torn clothes, that he’s just mildly disheveled, because he can’t imagine putting Henry through that.

Well, he’s also grateful he didn’t die, but again, priorities.

“Alex, what happened?” Henry asks, crouching next to him. He pushes a tangled mess of curls away from his face, letting his hand rest on his cheek. “Why are you on the ground? Are you okay?”

Okay, shit, how does he tell his beautiful, barely calm boyfriend that he was stupid enough to get slammed by a car in one of the busiest streets in New York? “Uh, okay, don’t freak out.” Which is the wrong thing to say, and the fastest way to get Henry to do just that.

“What? Why? What’s wrong? Can you get up? Are you hurt?”

“Yes. And yes. Actually, I think. I don’t know.”

“Alex…  what?”

Alex groans. His leg is still throbbing in a steady pulse, but that’s about it. Even his hands have stopped stinging. “Help me up? Please?”

Henry nods, still confused and Alex doesn’t want to exchange the confusion with whatever’s going to come next. He wonders how much he can play the injury off. He can say he tripped, and with his level of injuries it’ll probably be believable but he doesn’t want to lie to Henry. If it was the other way around…

Alex hisses the moment he’s on his feet. Henry fumbles to readjust his grip on his arms, squeezing a bit too tight as if Alex might break if he doesn’t hold on with all he has. “Shit, sorry. I, uh, okay. So, I had a little accident.”

“You—what kind of accident?” The color washes from Henry’s face as he pulls him closer, shifting his arms so one of them is around Alex’s back instead. “What happened?”

“I’m okay, I promise! I was just really stupid. And crossed the street too carelessly and well…” he shrugs, giving a vague gesture towards his left leg.

Henry looks back towards the street for a moment, and when he turns back to Alex he looks like he’s the one who got struck. “That street?” he asks, voice small. “Are you okay? Are you—Okay, we need to go to the hospital. I’ll call Shaan to come pick us up, do you want to sit down again? Does it hurt? I’m sorry, I—”

Alex places both palms on the side of Henry’s face, stroking his cheeks with his thumbs. “Hey, hey. Look at me.”

Henry hesitates for a second. When those precious blue eyes turn to meet his own, hints of moisture linger in their corners. He’s much paler than he was when he arrived, and Alex wants so desperately to kiss some color back into those lips, watch a rosy pink dust his too cold cheeks.

“Baby…” he coos. “You’re panicking? I’m the one who got ironed. Breathe.”

Henry flinches, his face inching away from Alex’s hold. “Don’t use that word. That’s not funny.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he chuckles. “Would it help if I went to the hospital with you?”

“Would it help? Of course, you’re going to the hospital! ‘Would it help’, he says.”

There’s no chance in hell Henry is going to take no for an answer, so Alex waits for him to call Shaan, lets him help him to the car without any protest. On the way there he gets three phone-calls, the level of exasperation increasing with each one. Apparently one of those kind passerbys was also kind enough to post a photo of him on the sidewalk on his Twitter. His dad calls first to make sure he’s okay. Then June, who upon learning the location of the accident just responds with ‘and you’re still alive?’, which is fair but also very rude, though when he complains to Henry about it, he’s sure he must be using all his patience not to glare at him for the nonchalance. He’s definitely glaring when Zahra calls and Alex just hands the phone over to him with the biggest, most pleading eyes he can muster.

Other than that, Henry stays quiet, eyes glued up ahead and staring at nothing. One of his hands is holding Alex’s own and he squeezes it every few minutes like he’s trying to make sure Alex is still there. It’s scaring him a little, but no matter how many times he insists he’s okay, that it barely even hurts, Henry doesn’t relax. He turns to him, gives him a small, tense little smile, then resumes looking at nothing ahead of him.

It’s fine. They’ll go to the hospital, they’ll get some tests done, and Henry will see he’s in perfect health. Then they’ll go home and cuddle until he forgets how much his leg hurts.

Unless he has some internal bleeding. That would be unfortunate.

The hospital visit passes faster than even he could have predicted. After describing his symptoms, Alex is quickly examined by an orthopedist and taken for x-rays to make sure nothing is broken. Everything comes out clear and in an astonishing show of competency, they’re out of there less than two hours later. Hell, the waiting room took twice as long as the tests themselves.

They stop for some painkillers on the way home, and he’s all set. He won’t even have to miss a class.

But Henry doesn’t perk up with the news. His breathing calms and he gets a hint of color to his cheeks as they drive home, but he’s still quiet. Withdrawn. It hurts more than the leg.

David rushes to greet them when they return, all little jumps and wagging tails. Alex feels a pinch of hurt when Henry grabs the puppy before he can jump on him. He doesn’t reprimand him, of course. Henry never yells at David, not even when he chews on pages of his work that he was foolish enough to leave out, but he’s too listless to play with him either, and it’s that apathy that finally breaks Alex’s heart.

“Henry? Baby, talk to me,” he pleads, leaning on his good leg with one hand against the nearest wall. “I’m fine, so what’s wrong?”

Henry doesn’t look at him. “I’m going to take him out for a bit. We won’t take long. Maybe I can bring food on my way back? What do you feel like having?”

“Henry.”

“Is there anything you need before I leave? Water? Tea? Do you want me to help you up the stairs? Maybe we should just fix up the couch for tonight…”

Alex sighs, limping over to where Henry is still looking away from him, bent over to secure the leash on David’s collar. He wraps his arms around his waist and pulls him upright. “Sweetheart…” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck, as he’s still turned the wrong way. “Please.”

It takes a lifetime to hear his voice. “You’re such an idiot,” Henry breathes, too shaky to hold any bite. He lets Alex turn him around and leans forward to press their foreheads together. “You’re such an arse.” He’s not crying, though he’s shaking, and Alex rubs some warmth up and down his arms, along his back. “Do you have any idea how lucky you got? That was a dangerous fucking street, Alex.”

It’s the lack of anger that truly does him in. Henry might be mad at him but it’s not enough to overpower the fear that’s been rooting within him for hours. “I’m sorry. I know. I’m so sorry.” Alex pulls back slightly to give him a soft smile. “Would it help if I said I was rushing because I was so desperate to see you?”

“Alex. ”

“Nope, I made it worse. Got it.” He presses a chaste kiss to his lips. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It was stupid, even for me. It won’t happen again, I promise. I’ll look both ways. Twice. I’ll fucking study physics to calculate the speed of cars versus my chance of running into them if I have to!” A smile trembles at Henry’s lips and Alex grins. “Watch me! Hey,” he says, softer now. He presses another kiss, this one to his cheek, smiling against him when Henry tilts his head towards the touch. “Anything to wipe that look off your face, and never have to see it again.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m sorry I worried you.”

“I know.”

David squeezes between their legs, pawing at Henry, nudging him with his nose.

Alex smiles. “It’s okay, buddy. I upset your daddy a little bit, but we’ll be fine. Right?”

Henry nods, bending down to scratch the top of David’s head, before heading for the door. “He doesn’t like it when I’m upset.”

“We have that in common.”

Henry makes sure to wrap him into the biggest hug before he leaves, even though he’s all kinds of dirty from lying on the road, and probably still smells like the hospital. Alex presses his face into the crook of his neck, breathes him in. Guilt churns in his stomach when he really stops to think about it, how stupid it was, how Henry must have felt. He squeezes a bit tighter before letting go.

And because he’s a total hypocrite, but he got himself too worked up not to, he calls out after him before he shuts the door.

“Hey, look both ways before you cross the road!”

Henry loves him, anyway.

[icecry]

“Shades of Morning”

TITLE: “Shades of Morning”

PAIRING: Beerus x Heles  SUMMARY:  In the twilight hour after a night of celebration in the Seventh Universe two Gods reflect on the small pleasures of life and the burdens of immortality. FEEDBACK APPRECIATED :)

It was unorthodox really. To leave a cosmos ungoverned and a throne of balance unattended. Unheard of. Fine and elaborate feasts and balls of grandeur filled her reality and there certainly wasn’t a shortage. However, this particular celebration in this foreign world was certainly needed. It’s  dedication was to the Victory of it’s home Universe and savior of all the remaining. Yes, her attendance there was definitely appropriate. And after, she was of course sociable and loved an occasion.

The haze of a midsummer sky filled the air with a thick warmth that could only be fully enjoyed at the end of a day in July. Sweet flavored aromas lingered from the festivities prior as sleeping, restless warriors dwelled well below divine eyes. Colorful papers and golden shimmering favors littered the ground that only hours ago was filled with dancing and laughter. Spread across cluttered tables once decorated with large spreads of endless delicacies lay a battle hungry warrior. Wild black hair and a  fiery orange uniform pressed against table cloth, finally exhausted from both tournament and fork. Across on balcony slept a weary prince, arms crossed and head pressed back against a long white piece of furniture the mortals of this reality lounge upon. Their comrades followed suit in similar positions, hands still around plates and bottles, cascaded across the cushioned outdoor furniture or just on the stone ground that was warmed from the heat of the summer night. One lonely warrior slept on top the roof. Arms crossed, white cape dancing with the cooler wind of that altitude. Wives and children had retired indoors, visible through the glass that separated them from  the large patio. With a sigh of fatigue, the owner of the home gently draped a soft blanket over two dutiful mothers exhausted from the preparation of the party. Brushing a strand of blue hand behind her ear, should could’t help but chuckle a little as one of them mumbled something about not touching the tempora before she hadn’t finished preparing it. Always working. Always tending to her husband and sons. Her thoughts were interrupted as something grabbed her attention through the corner of her eye. Through the glass now littered with fingerprints, she slowly slid open the heavy door. Two figures pressed against the sky, almost blending in completely if not for the faint light of the sun’s arrival. A smile crossed her lips when she realized who the spectators were. Pressing her head to the side of the door, she had wondered throughout the night if the two were ever going to engage in conversation.

“Such a vibrant star.”

A soft voice spoke among the silence. Green vibrant eyes studying the change light of the horizon. The stillness of the air around them didn’t make for less then enthusiastic conversation, but the Goddess wasn’t one to find awkwardness the company she kept. Her interests were in that of the changing sky. How slowly the burning star of this world turned the sky from a deep endless blue into a lovey shade of lavender and pink. Her hands clasped in embrace, golden rings making audible contact.

“How perfectly balanced.” The deity in her company kept his silence, arms crossed as smell of the water below filled his delicate sense of smell. This conversation was mundane and pointless in his mind. He had not interest in discussing the intricate details of this world’s orbital path. However, a code of conduct for a deity was something he more so than often adhered to when it came to interacting with his counterparts, though he certainly did not bother to practice this with his brother. None the less she was a guest in his Universe after all. It would be uncouth not to entertain her interests. At least until his patience ran out. She was certainly overbearing. And her jewelry was too damn loud. Cracking his neck, he led out a small groan of thought before drawing in an all too loud slew of air through his nostrils. “I suppose.” He answered, much later than he should have. “Though I can’t speak of cleverness of the name. The Earthlings call this star ‘The Sun.’” “The Sun?” The foreign Goddess blinked in what someone might observe as childlike look of confusion. She turned to the slender God, brows pressed in a bit of discernment. “Why not the daughter?” Golden eyes slowly opened and rolled in her direction. The corner of his mouth perked somewhere between a smirk and smile. “Not sure. “ He with little enthusiasm. “But I wouldn’t give it too much thought. The Mortals of this world also refer to this planet as “Mother.” A smile quickly formed her lips. Arms crossing as her weight in mid air shifted to one side. Her eyes fluttering closed before spoke. “Well of course. She is quite beautiful after all. It’s to be expected.” Her attention returned to the sky as the remainder of the stars began to melt into into nothingness. “And in your opinion, only women are capably of such beauty and grandeur?” The powerful God asked, head rolling in her direction. He surprised himself with the amount of effort he put into his sarcasm. “Oh certainly not.” She responded with a hint of assurance. Arms remaining crossed as her head tilted in thought. “The Victors of your Universe certainly are a testament to the impeccable raw beauty of a man. Especially in battle.” She smiled only to roll her shoulders to the other side. “Well…” She started. “…at least most of them. That Frizzy- Frezzy  or whatever you call him certainly doesn’t inspire me much.” The laugh that erupted from the God that followed her statement left her so surprised that she had to turn to make sure it even came from him. He raised a finger to wipe his eye, letting out a sigh to regain his composure. “I can’t imagine that he would.” “Your Saiyans, however. Now they’re a formidable force.” Her arms slowly unfold and lowered in almost a dance like manner as the gap between them grew smaller. The God, however didn’t budge as the silk draped deity floated to his side, nor did he flinch when she pressed her hand to his shoulder. “In both Strength AND beauty. Perhaps you were interested in a trade?” “No.” “Oh but my dear, sweet Beerus…” She reached one ringed finger up to outline the shape of his ear. Certainly a bold move. One that that not many would attempt. One that would anger him instantly. However, this certainly didn’t erupt anger within him. It just didn’t erupt anything at all. She kept up her pursuits none the less.

“It would only be to recognize their heroism! Monuments would rise from the ground in their likeness. Parades would fill the streets in their honor. And you would deny them such pleasures?” Motionless, only Golden eyes rolled to meet hers. “I’m denying you such pleasures..” He said with little emotion. A hand that was once so gentle upon his ear now came down to smack his bare shoulder. He chuckled at her reaction, knowing that he had struck a nerve. “Are you implying that my intentions are anything less than respectable?” She pressed her painted nails to her chest, head pressed forward in a accusing stature. Beerus, however, kept his gaze unmoved by her offended tone. Narrowing her eyes, she finally turned her head in the opposite direction in a huff. “I wouldn’t ask for much. 2 strong arms to accompany me on my cosmic strolls. A few nude poses for my oil paintings. “It’s not that much…” She flung her braided hair over her shoulder. Her head turned to an unamused Beerus, who’s eyes simply rolled as he yawned.

“Their wives certainly wouldn’t appreciate it.” Replied the God, finally turning to give her an almost amused smile. The elegant Goddess snorted in a laugh, wrinkling her nose as she did so in spiteful humor. Her hand rose to hip, turning her head to meet his gaze with less than enthusiastic smile. Her tone was deep and impactful and rolled off the tongue. “Do I look intimidated?” He certainly had no arguments there. Remaining motionless his eyes scaled her confident posture. Over the outline of her figure draped in white silk, down to the golden bracelets the decorated her ankles. Quickly however, as not to imply interest of any sort. It would be unbecoming of him. “Never.” He responded, humored.

She winked at his response, happy to see a more playful side of him emerge. Something she was sure she wouldn’t be seeing before she left. Slowly, her head leaned down to try and catch his eye. A small mischievous smile crossed her lips.

“Perhaps I haven’t been singing enough of your praises, Beerus.” Slowly, she floated to face him directly. “You are the God behind the victory, after all.” “Thank you, but I couldn’t possibly be any less interested. ” Heles laughed, hugging her shoulders  that were now becoming cool from chilled morning. “Of course. I always forget. Hungry as man. Fickle as feline. Stubborn as an ass.” It should have insulted, but only drew a small smirk from the corner of his mouth. Arms folded, her simply leaned forward, gilded eyes meeting emerald. “Helpless as a romantic. Delusional as a child. Vain as a peacock.” “Goes to show you… I don’t even know what that is.” Her shoulders rolled in victoriously, her levitation rising above his height as smiled proudly down at him.

“Your eons of silence has never been convincing, Beerus. You find me as lovely as this world’s morning star, don’t you?” He gave her no response. Only a slow  cold blink. The sun had finally peaked above the distant mountains, filling the cool sky with a golden hue of morning. The vibrancy of her complexion was shadowed by the rays of light cascading over the hillsides. Eyes that once pierced the night seemed be muted down to a dull green. Her smile, never the less remained bright and filled with as much warmth as the new day. He couldn’t be bothered by such vanity especially from someone who insists that he had always found her beauty to be unsurpassed. Rolling his neck over his shoulder he only offered a twitch of the nose. Perhaps she was right. Not likely, but perhaps. “My Lord!” The voice of a dutiful attendant broke through the silence. Down below on the cool concrete of the grounds stood two angels, staffs in hand and in glow.

“It’s Morning, my Lord. The Earthlings will be waking shortly. We should take our leave before we find ourself distracted by conversation.” “I concur, my lady. It’s well past our time of departure.” “Oh” As quickly as their conversation started so it came to an end. The was a small glimmer of sadness that shown in emerald in her eyes as her head tilted before speaking. “…And we were having such fun.” The two deities slowly hovered towards the ground. The stillness of the air around them propelled their clothing to float around them as if they were weightless. The God of this Universe landed seconds before her, turning to extend a hand to assist in her decent, and a moment of pleasant surprise she accepted it. Her feet gently touched the ground below, hand still grasped by the strength of her counterpart. The silence was deafening. Perhaps he could have easily broken it with a yawn of disinterest, or perhaps he could have released her hand more quickly. Needless to say the attendants took their time making their way to the their masters, and this was intentional. “I had an enchanting time. Give my kind regards to your champions and their wives.” In true self fashion, Beerus only offered a small bow of hospitality, barely an effort. He stood up at his full height, deep golden looking down the Goddess foreign to his reality. “I don’t envy your trip home. There’s quit a distance between the Seventh and Second Universe.” Her eyes hung heavy in response as a slow smile crossed her rose colored lips. “A perfect opportunity for some beauty sleep, no?” She laughed at her own joke, taking the sides of her silk garments to wrap over her shoulders. She let out a content sigh, eyes rolling upward to the dawn broken sky one last time.

“It really is beautiful, Beerus. This Universe of yours. Even your stars are lovely. Close as some are.” Her soft voice held hints of fatigue, but warmth none the less. “Isn’t that the burden of immortality?  No more  surprises? No corner of the cosmos unseen. No beauty that could truly humble a god.”

A chuckle escaped her lips. If one were to listen close enough, you might have heard a hint of sadness. Not for herself, but for the truth she had spoke. Their eyes have seen things others could never truly comprehend. They have looked into the eyes of heaven and have seen what comes after the veil of death. No more surprises. Nothing left unexpected. Nothing left to appreciate. The moment to leave was now. A simple nod of approval would have sufficed. It would have been more than enough. To turn and bid farewell. But no. Curiously enough a foot stepped forward towards the Goddess lost in admiration. A spectacle that did not break her concentration, but certainly surprised the God who approached. “Well. Maybe not in my reality.” A quickly as he spoke, her head turned to face him. She studied his face a moment, eyes fixating on the silhouette of his stature. Eyes of Gold remained still however, taking in her visual responses. Slowly her shoulder turned to face him, a smile holding back what could be described as a chuckle of disbelief caused her lips to shift in form. Another step forward from the usually indifferent God. Her eyes narrowed as her small laughter finally broke. “Was that your attempt at paying me a compliment, dear Beerus?” Her disbelief was expected, the gold in her hair clanking as she shifted in her posture. “Have you lost your senses? Silence followed her question as one last step forward left pitiful amount of room left between them. The feeling in her stomach surprised her. He was her equal after all, but the power that radiate from every pore certainly was felt at all times. Perhaps it was act itself that caused tickling sensation she felt. Clawed fingers gently reached down to take a piece of her gilded jewelry that held her braiding in place between his fingers. His eyes lowered to the cold metal as he rolled it between his fingers studying it. His voice, though not known for being soft, was much gentler in tone. Very uncharacteristic. Barely above a whisper. “Such noisy things.” The intimacy of the moment was not lost on her, her eyes relaxed and remained fixated on powerful deity before her. “Ceremonial.” She replied looking down at the jewelry herself. Her hands reached up to touch smooth surface of the metal, fingers of course brushing against his knuckles in the process. “And heavy.” He lingered for a moment, fingers still twisting and turning over the gold compartment before his hand lowered to place it back with the collective of other braiding. Smaller hands reached up to press his against in tandem, eyes watching the contact through thick heavy eyelashes, Before gently making their way up to meet the golden hue of his. Oddly enough, he remained still and gave no resistance. “Not many get to lay their hand upon a Goddess.” Her soothing voice was just above a whisper. “No. I imagine not many are granted the privilege.” His response was drawn out over a thick baritone voice. The sound of controlled breath was the only thing in the air between them. How bold. How exhilarating. How unlike him. What was stirring? What was inspiring these action? Who was thinking of these words to say? What was creating these thoughts.? “Not many…”Her red nails, kept and manicured began to strum over his hand like a harp. “...not even a touch. Not many would know how.” Every detail played into the responses of this moment, bedchamber eyes looked up at him as the pink of a small tongue gently rolled over a plump upper lip. Deadly. A tilt of the head, a lowering of the eyes, a circling of a clawed thumb gently grazing over the soft skin of a flawless beauty. Perhaps he had lost all his senses. At least only for the moment. “And how should I touch you?” His ears picked up on the sound of air being drown in deeply through he nose and slowly outward. This game of seduction was not new to her, but it certainly proved unexpected with the likes of Beerus.

With fluttering eyes, her hands gently pulled his hand up to her cheek, pressing into his palm. Her lips pursed together, pressing against the top of his hand before raising her gaze to meet his. “Eagerly….and thoroughly.” Her shoulders swayed a bit, hands still holding his powerful one in place. “As if you were mortal, and tomorrow was longer a promise.”

Those words rang like thunder in his ears, piercing like a flash of heat lightening. The moment was too delicate to truly grasp. Fleeting like a spark of a dream forgotten after waking. Golden eyes met emerald and remained in an agonizing lock. Perhaps he was drunk? Perhaps she was suffering from a fever? Was it so unlikely that one could be so drawn to the other so suddenly? Was her beauty suddenly so undeniable? Was the charm of his demeanor suddenly so tantalizing? Did eons of coexistence suddenly alter after one brief hour as the sun rose over the hills of a mortal world?

Or perhaps it was because they both HAD faced their death? Tomorrow as NOT promised just a few days ago. It was confusing. Enraging really. They should conduct themselves more appropriately. No thoughts of furthering this moment. He was a God of proud repute.  Physical pleasures must remain fleeting and random so long as he maintains his title. Every few hundred years or so. No metaphorical strings. Certainly no immortality. However, eyes of  gold held onto those green eyes which were equally feline and they both seemed to share the same reservations, the same concerns, the same desperation. “Even the hands of a destroyer can still hold tenderness, right?” Delicate yet powerful hands lowered from his, gently raising to press against the ancient patterns on his dutiful uniform of a Godly title. Unmoving eyes remained determined in their position, reflecting neither response nor hesitation as a long thumb traveled from the softness of her cheek brush across her lips which proved to be even softer. “And If I’m rough? “Careful Beerus…” Her head shook back and forth playfully, causing his hand to gently slide down her neck to the crook of her shoulder. “You’re not the only one with claws.” She tapped her long red nail on his chest. “Hmm.” A long drawn grumble from deep within his chest kept her eyes focused on his. She didn’t even feel the unseen hand of his which remained free find it’s way to the curve of her hip pulling the weight of her body closer. It was electric. So sudden. So personally forbidden yet desperately waned. Quiet filled the small space between them now. He titled his head to study her features closely, imprinting everything to memory. Powerful as she was, the night air still chilled her, goosebumps decorating her honey colored skin. “The air chills you...” He said quietly, hand slipping up the side of her waist feeling the fabric of her silk gown collect in his palm and spill back down. “I’m looking forward to a warm bed.” She replied sweetly, fingers outlining the deep indentations of his collarbone. “Hmm.” He repeated himself from earlier. “Mine is quite warm. Quite comforting too...” The heat of his breath felt damp against the cartilage of her ear as leaned down towards her. “And in the spirit of hospitality-

”Oh! My Lord and Lady!  “Whis’ cheerful harmonic voice pierced through the quiet like a hot a needle. “This morning is quite chilly! You both must be eager to leave. Brr!”  The loud  sound of the footprints of their attendants approached rapidly and both Gods separated their contact in haste. As quick as his reflexes allowed him, Beerus’s hands were back behind his back. A soft smile was the only thing remaining from their exchange on Hele’s lips. A smile she kept as she watched Beerus return to that of his normal stature and mood. Eyes warm, sad, pleading yet content all the  same time. He didn’t dare meet them. His will failed him. A moment incomplete, never to be fully regained, never to be fully realized. “Safe travels, Lady Heles.” Whis said with a bow. “It was an honor to have your company in our Universe.” “Alright Whis.” Spoke his Lord with a sigh of impatience. “Let’s get going.” “Do come and visit us sometime!” Heles called over her attendants shoulder. “I’ll have banquet prepared in your honor. It shall be the finest in the whole of the multiverse!” As bursts of light shot through the morning sky, the angel of the seventh universe kept his focus through the ever expanding universe around their path of travel. He couldn’t help but notice silence from his Lord. Silence not brought on by sleep. “What a lovely celebration. I trust your enjoyed yourself?” “It was perfectly adequate.” “And what a generous invitation from Lady Heles. It’s not often Gods get to break bread and enjoy one another’s company.” Silence was all that greeted the Angel. The God behind him tapped a clawed finger to the side of his face in thought. What were these feelings? Regret? No. Reservation? Perhaps. Annoyance. Absolutely. Curiosity? Shameful, but true. Too many thoughts to be racing around his head, especially before a well deserved nap. Nothing comes before self interest. Nothing above ones own happiness and pleasure. Certainly not hers. Certainly not the pleasure he could give her. And certainly not the pleasure that could be shared between the both of them. Wait what? Thats was silly. Stupid. Nothing. Forget it.

Sighing in self defeat, he shifted his attention to the blue world growing smaller and smaller in the trail of light that followed them, eyes fixed on the glow of the star that caught her eye and painted the skies those lovey shades of morning.

[zward95]

Good luck on luck

Best wishes for your wishes

Sending prayers for your prayers

cause I’m coming for you, bitches.

I’ve got no patience for disrespect,

The slightest word and I’m at your neck

Whenever you want, lets make an appointment

I’ll bring the fire, you bring the ointment

I’ll pull out my planner, the little black book,

Of stupid muthafuckers I’m going to cook.

Mind full of thoughts, overflowing emotions

Struggle through the day and try to control them

All these mutha fuckers think I’m so nice

Assuming this kindness means its alright

Yea I got a grin and do no harm.

But don’t think for a second that I won’t break your arm.

I laugh at a threat because they’re all weak

I go through pain 7 days a week

I don’t need to fight because I kick my own ass

Dragging my ego through the grass.

So who’s up next, I want a fight

Give me somewhere to shine this light

Enlighten the dark and show the shadows

They don’t want anything with this battle

Because I have no shame, you cannot hurt me

I’ve come from the grave just to spite thee

I have no goals except just one

To make you know fear, to make you run.

 Come up from the dust like a dust bunny,

They called me bunny ears, and thought that shit was funny

Bunch of big men beating on a kid, pushing all your worries down on him

You called me soft and I kept coming, then you quit and I just kept running

Y’all fell off track, you lost the momentum, The demons called you and you let them

Don’t talk to me about being weak, I’ve been stronger than you since I was three

Shallow mind, empty soul, lost ambition

Planning the next addition to your kitchen,

You think these things matter at all?

You think that stuff will prevent your fall?

You believe your luck will prevail?

Do you think you will never fail?

 So you think this kindness means you get a pass?

You think you can get away with even a little bit of sass?

I’ve spent years coming to grips with it

The dumb get mad and the smart just live with it.

But right about now I’m pretty fuckin sick of it.

I’ll pull out my cock and you can fucking lick on it

I’m smarter than you, I could be your teacher,

But the little brain of this sad creature, is missing one distinctive feature

You smooth brained fuck have no desire to learn

Blind to the opportunities you spurn.

Empathy, Rationality, Kindness, perception

All parts of the mind and you neglect them

More smelling salts, more positivity, no losses to learn from, just growing stupidity

Your idiocy deserves no respect.

Your garbage opinions are a result of neglect.

You’re living through the age of information, yet mentally dying, slow degradation

I don’t hate you, I hate your philosophy.

You’ve been lead down a path you're too blind to see.

But hold a second, What the FUCK?

They’re not blind at all, they just won’t buck,

The blinders from their eyes, because change is scary,

Their life was sweet like a berry,

And they wanted to die unwarry

Of all the ghosts they’ve grown to carry.

So they just close their eyes,

And calmly digest the lies,

And silently scream an endless cry

For all their dreams they’ve let die.

 I’ve been feeling angry, and mean, and wanting to talk my shit about people a little bit. I’m fucking tired of being told to not be so nice. If only any of those people know my actual thoughts about them. The kindness and respect I treat everyone with is because I know how easily I can fall into open disrespect, they all don’t know shit. My boss thinks himself some ideal human, yet appears to have no desire in life other than to continue working and making more money. Like a lord looking down from his castle he laughs at the problems of other people, and is comfortable in using fear as a tool for his own interests. It makes me wonder if he has ever appreciated loss, or pain, or tragedy, or anything similar to real life. If he has ever had something to be afraid of? Or if he has spent his life living in the ivory tower of his life, being able to scoff at the other people having issues, believing that they have those problems because of a flaw in themselves, all the while patting himself on the back. The belief in a just world is nothing but validating all the shitty things you see in the world, and being able to ignore it with the idea that “god is just” therefore everyone gets what they deserve, and they deserve punishment for some unforeseen sin. It's arrogant. It's cocky, and It makes me only want to rip his shit away and give it up to everyone. Burn it down. Eat the Rich.  

[mystic-kitten-writer]

Limerence [M] ︳23

Pairing: Zuko x OC

AU: Adult-Verse

Genre: Romance, mainly fluff with smut, and if you squint hard enough - you’ll find some angst.

Rating: SFW

Words: 6900+

Notes: Thanks for the love I got revolving the smut last week, a lot of people enjoyed it which makes me happy and I see myself writing it more often in the future! Thanks for reading everyone, and enjoy <3

Masterlist ︳22 [M] ︳24

❤ Buy me a coffee? ❤

Limerence: (English/n.) the state of being infatuated with another person.

The moment their eyes locked they knew - the flames within him twisted while the water within her turned. It was a connection, a connection that would lead to love, adventure, and drama.

Agathokakological

(Greek/adj.) composed of both good and evil.

~ Ying Yue Jiang ~

            “Zuko stop it~!” I cried out between endless fits of giggles, trying my hardest to shove his overbearing frame off me. But my cries of protests fell upon deaf ears, as he snuggled his head deeper into my neck, butterfly kisses placed all over my skin. The setting sun cast a heavenly hue over his body; his black hair flaming as shades of reds and yellows bounced off him.

            His locks fell over my face, in turn causing me to pout, his lush hair getting caught between my lips. “Z-Zuko, get off!” I laughed, but my arms were too tired at this point to bother trying to shove him off. The way his chuckles mixed with my giggles, like a fairy-tale harmony. His laughter reminded me of Kiyi’s, innocent and carefree – music.

            My arms fell to my side, resting against the fluffy blankets of the bed. I wasn’t expecting on being caught taking an evening nap, let alone be awoken by the one and only Zuko. But getting woken up by snuggles wasn’t necessarily a terrible way to wake up and instead fed into my ever-growing wanting to spend every moment with Zuko – my ultimate vice.

            Zuko’s head rose, running his hand through his hair, and pushing it back. The vanilla smile that painted his face as he looked over me, his free hand carefully stroking my face. A smile of my own slowly starting to emerge as I looked up at him with appreciation, but it was then I noticed – his eyes.

            His amber coloured eyes were muted, dull in comparison to his usual lively and illuminating twinkle that always managed to shine through. Was he tired? No – this is something else. His thoughts ran rampant, clouding his perspective as he watched over me. He was anxious, worried about tonight – nervous about my walk with Kayto.

            A soft sigh escaped me, my hands instinctively cupping his face as I traced my thumbs over his lips, “I’ll be fine Zuko, Toph will be with me…I won’t be alone.” I muttered, my eyes half-lidded, as I spoke. Zuko huffed, his forehead hitting mine as he held my hands close to his lips. “There has to be another way…”

            I knew what he meant by that – referring to the plan Sokka had thought of during our time in the hot springs. So much for relaxing in the hot springs last night…

            The plan was sweet and simple.

            Zuko postponed the meetings with the Earth Nation for this evening. I go on a walk with Kayto, forcing him out of said meetings, which leaves the gang a short window of time to get the Earth King alone and make him sign the damn documents. Toph will stay back to watch over Kayto and I, should Kayto try anything funny. A fool-proof plan for the most part. But the look of uncertain in Zuko’s eyes was apparent; his lips turned upside down.

            The detestation and distaste Zuko held against Kayto was next level, and I couldn’t help but be caught off guard as even Aang didn’t seem too fond of Kayto either – the only person I knew who couldn’t hate another human being for the life of him. My eyes shifted back to the window, watching the way the sun was starting to hide behind the outer edge of the mountain range. “We should probably get going…the gang are probably on their way now.”

            Zuko sighed, “Please…be careful.”

            “I promise. Now let’s get those papers signed, alright?” I beamed, placing a quick peck upon his lips as Zuko sat up. As Zuko’s head bobbed upwards, I couldn’t help but let a small giggle. His hair was a giant mess; his usual pin straight hair creased from wearing it in a bun all day.

            Oh, Zuko – the only man I knew who could be both adorable and seductive at the same time.

            I rolled my eyes hearing Zuko whine underneath me, walking with his knees bent as I placed the last pin in his hair, “You’re hurting me, woman!” He hissed, and in response, I purposely tugged at his hair a bit more than needed. Another growl vented from him, and I couldn’t help but giggle, “Are you always such a crybaby?”

            “Kind of hard not to complain when you’re fucking pulling my hair out of my head!” I patted his head, signalling to stand up normal as we walked down the hallway, grinning as I heard him mutter curses under his breath. For someone ‘tough’ he sure knew how to complain. I bumped my hip against him, watching him roll his eyes but regardless wrap his arm around me.

            Zuko faced me, flicking my forehead with a playful scowl on his face, “I swear next time I’ll pull your hair and see how it feels.”

            “Oh, you wouldn’t dare hurt me – I’m too adorable.” I playfully spoke, sticking my tongue out towards him. “Try me.” He whistled, leaning in swiftly and light-heartedly, biting my ear, “Zuko~!” I shrieked, amused at the way he tried to ‘attack’ me, acting like an absolute child at the moment. During my fit of laughter, my eyes looked forward, my steps slowing as I gently pushed him away, “Zuko…” I gasped.

            A set of grand doors were in front of us - the grand meeting hall. But it wasn’t the doors that caught my attention, no, it was the gang. They were huddled together, whispering harshly to each other, frowns on their faces. Somethings wrong.

            “What’s wrong…” Zuko muttered, his expression no longer playful as he gazed at me. Suki and Aang made eye contact with me; their brows pinched together as they looked over at Zuko and I. “Look.” I spoke, gesturing in front of us. In an instance, Zuko’s eyes narrowed, a small huff escaping him as he scratched his neck.

            “They look upset…” I muttered under my breath, my fingers twirling with each other as I studied their faces. Not even Sokka was smiling. Zuko sighed, “Maybe they got some good news?”

            “Oh yeah, when I get good news I frown like that too.”

            “Well, aren’t you an optimist…” Zuko grumbled.

            Suki’s hand rose, waving at us slowly. “Let’s find out what’s up,” Zuko muttered under his breath before we eagerly rushed forward. I smiled softly, waving at them as I looked around. It was just us here; we’re early, the King isn’t here yet.

            “What’s wrong?” Zuko blurted, not bothering to say hi. Aang cautiously looked over at Sokka, “Uh…”

            I raised a brow, what’s going on with them? They all looked at one another, neither one wanting to speak first. Sokka nudged Aang, giving him wide eyes, signalling for him to say something, “Umm, so-uh” Aang blubbered. Not a single logical word escaping him. Zuko groaned, losing his patience, “What’s that’s suppose to mean?” Zuko groused.

            “I’ll say it because no one here has the fucking balls too.” Toph shouted, stomping her feet onto the ground with crossed arms, “Princess is going on her walk alone with Kayto. The Earth King requested me to sit in the meeting with Suki.” My eyes widen; Zuko is going to-

            “Out of the fucking question.”

            Toph groaned to herself, her bangs swaying upwards as she let out an exhausted sigh. This was not how we expected the plan to go. “Well we don’t have much choice you royal pain in the ass – they’re on their way now.”

            “We do have a choice, and it’s we abort the plan. We agreed that you’d watch over Yue just in case.” Zuko shot back, pinching his nose in irritation. Aang anxiously tossed his staff between his hands, as Suki and Sokka gazed at each other, trying to think of a possible solution.

            “Princess can handle herself Zuko – we all know that. I say we go forward.”

            “I’m not taking the chance Toph.”

            “Shit Zuko – Princess can handle herself you damn bone head!” Toph shouted. I pouted as I watched the way Zuko and Toph bickered. Both of their faces red as they quarrelled. “Maybe we can send a Kyoshi warrior with Yue…?” Aang suggested, but Suki shook her head, “It’ll look like we’re plotting against Kayto. I can’t risk that.”

            I anxiously bit my lip, their words going over my head as they argued. With Toph gone, that would leave me alone with Kayto. Toph was supposed to be my safety net should anything fishy happen, but with her gone I would have no backup plan…

            Damnit, why can’t things work in our favour for once?

            I huffed; I can’t let this opportunity slid. This may be the only chance we get to sign those papers. If I don’t do this-

            I placed my hands over Zuko’s arms, cutting off their conversation as I let my fingers intertwine with his. The gang held their breath, and with a soft sigh, I looked at Zuko. He grasped my hands, his warmth giving me an immediate sense of comfort and safety. Zuko already held a frown on his face; he knew what I was going to say.

            “I can do this.”

            “Love-” Zuko warned.

            “Do you trust me?”

            “If anything happens, we’ll be stuck in the damn meeting, nowhere close to you…”

            “Trust me,” I whispered harshly. The look on his face, the way he bit his tongue before he finally released a substantial sigh. Zuko pressed his forehead against mine, worry written on his face, “…You haven’t started training yet; you aren’t even fully healed…”

            Toph puffed once more, cutting off Zuko as she groaned stridently once again, “She’ll be fine, Princess can kick ass. If I remember right, she did have you stuck behind an ice wall and carried a damn waterfall on her back.”

            I couldn’t stop the sheepish grin that painted my face as I looked at Zuko, his eyes rolling as he grumbled underneath his breath. He pulled away, glaring, but he seemed relaxed, not as anxious as before. He needed to hear me say it - say that’ll be okay and I can do this.

            “How long do you think we have?” Aang muttered as his gaze fell upon me. His face appeared neutral, but the way he gripped his staff, arms tense. “Probably an hour,” Suki spoke.

            “Will an hour be enough? What if it isn’t? We’d be putting Yue at risk for no reason.” Sokka shook his head, “It’ll work. The Earth King is on our side, and with Kayto gone, this is our chance.”

            “We may have longer if Princess works her magic. An hour or more.”

            My fingers anxiously tapped against Zuko’s, distracting myself from the tense atmosphere for the moment. There was something magical about his touch as my pulse slowed down. I was nervous - so damn nervous. I had to make sure I held Kayto’s attention for at least an hour, longer if possible. If I let him leave early…then I messed up the whole plan…

            “They’re coming,” Toph whispered harshly; everyone held their breaths.

            The moment of truth.

            “I mean it. If he lays a single hand on you-” Zuko warned under his breath, the grip on my hand tight as he gazed at me with dread. But Sokka snorting under his breath caught everyone’s attention, “Oh, but you didn’t have a problem laying a hand on Yue last night...”

            Everyone was quiet until Suki and Toph let out a snort, which in turn caused me to giggle. Talk about holding grudges. The pout on Sokka’s face as he snuffed away with his arms crossed, still butthurt about the little ‘topless’ incident in the hot springs last night.

            Zuko flushed, bashfully looking away as he kissed his teeth, “Get over it, we’re dating for fucks sakes.”

            “That’s my innocent sister; you’re corrupting!”

            “I wouldn’t use the word innocent…” Zuko grumbled under his breath. It was my turn to blush, sheepishly slapping his arm as I glared a Zuko. Sokka covered his face with his hands, screaming into them, “I swear- If you touch her, I’ll kill you both!” Toph snorted, “I wanna see that happen…”

            “Are we seriously having this conversation again, right now!?” Suki rustled, slapping Sokka’s arm and causing him to whine. Suki rolled her eyes before mischievously looking at Zuko and me, “Don’t worry about it you lovebirds, you can get as nasty as you want after we get these papers signed.”

            Zuko groaned as Suki sent a playful wink our way. He pinched his nose in irritation once more, mumbling a faint ‘fuck me.’

            I swear Zuko is going to implode any second-

            “Ah, good evening!”

            We all looked upwards, a group of nobles wearing extravagant green robes standing in front of us. The King bore a great smile, bowing at us all with delight. He indeed was a happy man, always wearing a cheerful smile on his face; we all nodded.

            “I apologize once again for delaying today’s meeting till now. A few, unforeseen circumstances, had arisen that had to be dealt with immediately.” Zuko spoke, the Earth King nodded, “I understand, unfortunately, life doesn’t always bend to our favour.”

            It was then out of the corner of my eye I spotted him. My heart beat rapidly, the overwhelming feeling of regret as I realized what I signed up for. No going back now. With a final squeeze, Zuko looked down at me; this is it.

            Unwillingly, I could feel Zuko loosen his grip on my hand, his warmth disappearing as my hand slipped from his. With a flick of my hair, I skipped forward, forcing the perkiest smile possible on my face, “Kayto! Are you ready for our walk?” I sang.

            Kayto smiled before it shifted to a frown, “It would be an honour, but unfortunately, I have to attend this meeting, the times have changed.”

            I pouted, keenly looking at him as I purposely let my hands fall upon Kayto’s arms, squeezing as I spoke, “But I’ve been looking forward to our walk all day!” I whined. Puffing up my cheeks as I tried to look endearing. Kayto’s look softened, a look of regret as he cradled my arms with his – he’s buying it.

            I looked over my shoulder, gazing at the Earth King with an innocent smile, “Is it too much for me to ask to borrow Kayto for the evening? I’m afraid I don’t know when I’ll get the chance to enjoy the company of Kayto due to my busy schedule.” My heart squeezed, seeing Zuko’s lips pressed thin as he watched the way I threw myself at Kayto, but he kept quiet.

            The Earth King hesitantly gazed over at us, “Well…”

            “As much as I would like to enjoy a walk with you, it’s an important meeting...” Kayto reluctantly spoke. And with a bold gesture, he caressed my face. My eyes widen, taken aback by his sudden gesture of affection, and I swore I heard Zuko hiss under his breath. “More important than our walk?” I argued, and Kayto chuckled, “It would seem so.”

            Shit. I need to convince him.

            “That’s disappointing to hear, Kayto. Imperial Consort Ying Yue has been patiently waiting for this walk, you promised her after all, and there’s nothing I hate more than empty promises and an upset Consort.” Zuko spoke, his tone harsh. I anxiously bit my lips, knowing how hard it was for Zuko to push Kayto to me. I’m sorry.

            “Fire Lord Zuko is right; it would be ennoble of you to not hold true to a promise. Enjoy the night Kayto; I’ll be fine.” The Earth King spoke, I beamed. Thank you, Zuko. My arm easily laced with Kayto, pulling him close. It was strange; his touch wasn’t anything like Zuko’s. It felt cold, unloved, and just not Zuko.

            And while Kayto made it quite clear that he was interested in me, I could see Kayto clench his jaw, eyes narrowed, “You’re right, I would hate to disappoint you Fire Lord Zuko. I promise I’ll treat her well this evening. An evening she won’t forget.” The blaze in Zuko’s eyes, knuckles white as he stared down at Kayto - loathing.

            “Let’s get started, shall we?” Aang butted in, smiling radiantly as he placed his hand over Zuko’s shoulder, trying to soothe the flames that were starting to roar.

            “I agree, Avatar Aang; let’s get this meeting started.” Zuko spat, turning on his heel. The gang gazed over me, their eyes round and with trembling lips as they, one-by-one, walked into the meeting. Sokka was the last, his hand resting on the door, “Yue.” He spoke.

            I smiled, acting ignorant, “Yes?”

            “…Walk along the pond; Suki told me it was beautiful. I bet Kayto would love to see it.” I nodded, water. He wants me by water – just in case.

            “I think I will – thanks for the idea!” I chirped, and Sokka nodded. “Enjoy.”

            The door slammed shut, an eerie silence as we stood amongst each other — no one in the hallway beside us.

            One hour.

            Let's do this.

            “Ready?” I hummed. Kayto grasped my hand, like how a snake strangles their prey, his emerald eyes staring down at me with a sly smirk, “After you, little flower.”

            The walk to the gardens was soundless; not a single word spoken as my arms linked with Kayto, his hand still holding mine. As servants and guards gazed at us briefly, they all held the same look - a look of uncertainty. But I bore a smile, trying to soothe them. It was evident that this didn’t look nor feel right, but it didn’t matter. I’ll do anything for Zuko, even this.

            Kayto’s silence was off-putting- not a single pass or flirtatious comment during the whole walk. It was like he was…thinking.

            The guards opened the garden doors, the sun casting a red haze on us. “Ah, we’re here!” I chirped, gazing over at Kayto with a charming smile. He chuckled at my reaction, watching the way my eyes promptly lit up as the soft breeze tickled our skin. Listening to Sokka’s wise advice, I lead us to one of the ponds that wrapped around the gardens. Already I could hear the gentle trickling of water.

            “You’re a nature lover?”

            “I guess you can say that…” I mumbled as I looked over the flowers and bushes that lined the small flowing body of water. I had to admit, while the company was unpleasant, nothing could change the fact that the gardens were stunning. But it also reminded me how badly I wanted to go on a walk with Zuko. It was funny how despite being at the kingdom for how long, we never walked, just him and me, in the gardens.

            “I guess I can’t be too surprised. A gorgeous garden to compliment such a stunning flower as yourself.” Kayto hummed, his thumb gently rubbing my hand as he spoke. I smiled softly, ahh – now there is the flirty Kayto I knew. “I imagine the gardens in the Earth Nation Kingdom are just as stunning?”

            “More so, we have much more land to expand the gardens. I would love to explore the gardens with you one day…” I shyly looked away at his gaze, knowing very well what intentions he meant under such a simple statement. We walked along the path, the flowing water on one side, beautiful rocks and flowers on the other — one hour.

            “So what made my little flower decide to go on this evening walk with me?” I shrugged my shoulders, acting innocent as I begrudgingly leaned into his arm, “What do you mean? I wanted to go on this walk.” I spoke, my voice slightly wavering. Kayto chuckled, shaking his head slightly, his raven hair moving with every shake, “Ahh, don’t mistake my good looks for stupidity petal. It won’t end well for you if you do.”

            My feet stopped.

            Kayto turned his body to face me, a menacing smile on his face as he raised a brow, “So – let’s drop the small talk, shall we?”

            It was insanity – how his soft features looked frightening as we stood alone in the gardens — no guard in sight, not even a servant. The way his thin lips pulled upwards, a devilish grin painted his face as he batted his eyelashes mockingly to me. It was then I felt it, his finger gently tracing my jaw, his face inches from mine, “When I met you, I thought you were nothing more but an orchid – a delicate little thing. But I was wrong. You’re more like a rose – beautiful, but secretly, you have thorns, thorns you mask with innocence. You may have Zuko fooled, but I know. Oh, little bud, I know-”

            His mouth brushed against my ear, a soft chuckle escaping him before his grasp on my chin tighten, causing me to wince. “I know - your dirty. Little. Secret.” He hissed through his teeth. My body stiffen, my hands starting to rise, feeling the water behind me. And as if he knew, Kayto’s hands dropped, tightly gripping my hands with his own. His fingers dug into my hands, so roughly my eyes watered, “Now that we cleared the air, let’s continue the walk, shall we?”

            My throat felt dry, unable to stifle out a word as he pulled away from me, his intimidating grin completely wiped away as he smiled at me. He was an actor – so well adept at hiding the repulsive creature he was. His hands untangled from mine, blood rushing to my fingers once again, “Now-now-now, what’s wrong flower? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Kayto cooed, caressing my face as if he cared.

            I stepped back, pushing his hand away from me with a scowl, “Don’t touch me.” I hissed.

            Kayto grinned, “Oh, so now the thorns finally come out. I love it when they fight back, act all tough, only for them to beg.”

            “I have no secrets Kayto. I don’t know what you think you have against me, but it’s all lies.”

            Kayto tapped his chin with his long boney fingers, taunting as he shook his head, “Oh little flower. When will the lies stop? How about I help you, like telling you why you agreed to come on this walk with me.”

            “I told you it was because I wanted to.”

            “That disfigured idiot would never let you go on a walk with me unless it was advantageous. You think your little friends are so clever, separating me from the King so you can get your papers signed.”

            My eyes widen – he already figured it out. The shock on my face was apparent, as Kayto sniggered, “But the joke’s on you, I couldn’t care less if you get it signed. I was only doing a favour to some fellow comrades by convincing the King not to sign. Get it signed, see if I care, it’ll only upset them but not me.” Comrades? Wait a minute…that must mean, “…You’re not loyal to the King…”

            “Not by a long shot. He’s simply a tool.” Kayto chuckled. A tool? How can he view someone, a person, as just a tool? A means to an end?

            “What do you want Kayto?” I spoke carefully, keeping a watchful eye to his every move. He was an enemy to the Earth Nation – and no one had a clue. How did a man like him get away with this for so long? The criminals, some man named Yakone - the King spoke about this the other night at the party, Zuko and him huffing about how they couldn’t catch them. Is this why? Is it because Kayto was always keeping them aware, a snitch in the kingdom? Oh gosh – a snitch in the kingdom.

            He can’t be the snitch we’re looking for; the waterfall was before he arrived…unless. He may know who the snitch is.

            Kayto just laughed, shrugging his shoulders as he looked at me, entertained, “What’s wrong little flower, your mind seems to be buzzing away.” I could feel the grass under my feet; I was right at the edge of the path. This whole time I was unknowingly walking backwards. I need to get out of here; this has become something more significant. So much more extensive than any of us expected.

            “You know, when you said you were a nature lover, I wasn’t all too surprised. He is too.” My eyes narrowed, he? “Who are you talking about?”

            “Ah, so it’s true. You really don’t have a clue.” I frowned, my eyes trying to scan our surroundings. We were a good few minutes away from the nearest entrance back to the palace. It was late; no one took walks at this time; everyone would be heading back. “Ready to head back already? We just started this walk. We have so much more to talk about, so much more to do.” He purred.

            Then I felt it.

            His fingers flicked upwards, so fast that I didn’t notice till it was too late. I gasped, my feet sinking into the ground, my body rocking as I struggled to find my balance. I can’t move, my feet-

            I fell on my knees, wincing as the sharp rocks that decorated the path jammed through my dress. My hands fell palms down onto the ground to soften the blow. My head shot upwards, instinctively my hands raising, but he was faster. He stomped onto the ground, pushing forward, and within a flash, my right hand got caught by a sharp protruding mass from the ground. I hissed, tugging my arm helplessly, trying to free it from the rock.

            I was stuck.

            My feet were rooted; my right arm caught.

            I tucked my left arm to my chest – the only limb he didn’t trap.

            A burst of dark laughter caught my attention, watching the way he slowly walked towards me. “Ah, much better. I must say, I never thought you would be on your knees so soon. They were right; you really are nothing more but a royal bed warmer.”

            A royal bed warmer, I grimaced at the nickname, where have I heard that before? I snuck my left hand behind me, making sure his glance never wandered from my eyes. I could feel it.

            The water behind me.

            My fingers slowly curved into my palm, the water slithered so agonizingly slow up the hill, through every blade of grass. I can’t make a sound. I can’t let him know; I need a bit more time-

            “Who is it?” I blurted. Kayto titled his head to the side, seemingly confused by my words. “The snitch.”

            Kayto’s eyes widen, “The snitch? You know-”

            “There’s a snitch here, in the Fire Nation. But you already know that, don’t you?” Kayto grinned, walking over to me. His hands ran through my hair, letting the strands cascade through his fingers with ease as he hummed, “You’re right, there is a snitch. But I have nothing to do with that.”

            “You’re lying.” I spat, but Kayto just shook his head, his hand running through my hair once again, “There’s one thing I am not, and that is a liar. The whole trip here, I never once lied, but you on the other hand only spoke with lies. So while you view me as filth, whose really the immoral person here? The one who never said anything but the truth, or the one on her knees speaking only in lies?”

            I bit my tongue, because outlandishly – he was right. The look in his eyes, never once wavering as he spoke. He was telling the truth, “You really don’t know who it is?” I whispered. Kayto smiled bitterly, “Sorry flower, all I can say is you’re right, there is a snitch. But that is none of my business and nor do I care. But I can tell you this.” To my surprise, he crouched down, his green eyes at my level as he let his hands move from my hair to my face. His fingers delicately traced my jaw, before he stopped at my scar, the same injury he saw at the party.

            “I’m not the person you should fear, oh no, if anything, I’m your guardian spirit. You should fear my comrades. They’re the ones who left you with that disgusting scar, and they’re the ones you should worry about.”

            “What do they want?” Kayto shrugged, sighing as if bored, “Don’t know, don’t care. Like I said before, it’s none of my business. Although he’ll be quite upset with me if he knows I hurt you in any way, quite protective of you…” My brows pinched together, again with this ‘he.’ But my mind was once again preoccupied, I could feel it, the water starting to pool behind me, Kayto still oblivious to it. Just a few more seconds-

            “Who is this man you keep bringing up?”

            “A Bloodbender, but I bet you know tons about that, don’t you flower?” Kayto whispered, a sadistic smirk on his face. A Bloodbender? I pushed the thought away; that’s the least of my concerns. Kayto’s noticed how little attention I gave, causing him to grip my jaw hard, “You’re not exactly in the position to be zoning out petal.”

            “You’re wrong.”

            “Wrong?” Kayto muttered, “I’m exactly where I want to be.”

            I swung my left hand upwards, the water rising high above me as Kayto stayed crouched, mouth wide. My arm hurdled towards him with a fist, the water freezing instantaneously. Ice formed, piercing shards soaring towards him in a single motion.

            He fell back, swinging his arms in a pathetic attempt to protect himself, the ground underneath us shifting to form a shield. A distraction, that’s all I needed right now. The tension from my feet was gone and the mini encasement my right arm was stuck in crumbled. With a huff, I pulled back, dust flying everywhere as ice shattered as it hit the shield of rock that Kayto had built.

            I jumped to my feet, swinging my arms back, the ice shards stopping it’s assault and floating back to me in a single movement. I could hear Kayto groan, the shield he built crumbling down as he covered his face with the sleeve of his robe. The dust started to settle around us, and Kayto hissed, “I should’ve known.”

            “Known what?” I challenged, my arms raised and feet firmly planted on the ground. Kayto was quick; I could figure that much. But Kayto shook his head, lifting himself off his knees as he stood, “That you’d be as crafty as him. Clearly, I underestimated you.”

            “Who is this HE?” I fumed, my patience wearing thin as he mentioned him once again. Who was this man? Why does he keep comparing me to him? “That’s the least of your worries flower.”

            And with that, he stomped.

            My eyes widen, watching the way his feet hit the ground, earth shooting upwards as he rapidly punched, sending thin discs of rock my way. Shit – I outstretched my arms, swinging forward and then back in a single swing. The ice around me swiftly laid along my body, forming a protective barrier. The earth launched towards me at full speed as I raised my arms, dirt flying as it shattered upon contact with my ice. I need to get close.

            Rock after rock he shot, his mini tower of dirt he built slowly disappearing after each throw as I tried to weave between each one helplessly. I was slow, not nearly as quick as I was before, but that’s what three years of not bending does to you.

            I huffed, another rock coming my way, to fast for me to dodge. I planted my feet, raising my arms as I felt the impact of the rock hitting the ice, grunting. The way Kayto moved, his punches fast, light on his feet – it was different, unlike any other Earthbender I’ve seen. He shot another rock my way, and I lunged forward, only to swing my right arm. The ice along my arm shifted, long and thin, mimicking that of a blade.

            Kayto moved from his spot, just barely dodging my jab as stands of long black hair flew in the breeze, “You’re fast little flower.” Kayto chuckled, before swinging his foot at my feet. I huffed, slamming my arm on the ground, his foot making contact with my limb. The ice spread onto his leg; I caught him.

            He swore under his breath, unable to pull back. I tugged, causing Katyo to lose his balance. He fell on his back, and I dove forward, swinging my right arm towards him once again. Kayto’s arms crossed in front of him, my blade caught between the earth he summoned between us, “I never thought you were one to favour hand-to-hand combat.” Kayto hissed, as I struggled to push the ice through the rock. The top of the blade started to pierce through, just scarcely touching his chest, just a bit more-

            “But I guess I can’t be too surprised, being the daughter of a general after all.” My eyes widen, how does he-

            Kayto hard-pressed forward, catching me off guard as he thrust upwards, his knee jabbing into my stomach. I cried out, my breath escaping me as he tossed me to the side like a rag doll. I huffed as the stupid pebbles that lined the path dug into my skin and ripped my dress. My hands instantly gripping my stomach. Kayto jumped up, “You want hand-to-hand, fine. But you’re going to regret it flower.”

            “Fuck you.” I groaned as Kayto pressed forward, crawling away from his attack as I scrambled to get on my feet. My feet dug into the dirt, trying to withstand his punches, he was stronger than me. Each attack of his causing me to wince as my ice started to crack under his rock-covered blows. The way he effortlessly punched and evaded, despite the armour that covered his arms like my ice, it was mind-blowing. I need to end this soon, I’m still too weak, not healed enough-

            My breathing felt winded, once again sidestepping to another one of his lunges, “What’s wrong flower – is someone tired?” Kayto tutted, boxing his fists yet again. I grounded my feet, kicking his knee. A groaned escaped him, wincing and I shoved forward. He stumbled backwards, as I tangled my leg with his, freezing him to the spot – now.

            My arms swung up into the sky with fists, ice starting to form into tiny daggers. Kayto eyes widen in shock, too close of a distance to protect himself from the shards that hovered above him. I pounced, swinging my arms as the ice flew towards him, unleashing all of my energy as the ice sped towards him. Kayto crossed his arms in front of him, a desperate attempt to protect himself. I won, he’s dead meat.

            I stopped.

            The ice just barely grazed his skin, Kayto still underneath me as he anticipated certain death. “You’re not worth it,” I muttered. My ice melted as I pulled away, only then noticing that the sun was almost completely gone, I did it — more than an hour.

            “You’re not the real threat. You’re just a puppet…” I spoke. Kayto eyes widen, looking at me with shock before a grin broke out. Kayto was just a decoy; this whole New Nation stuff was all just a giant distraction. A distraction from another, more, sinister plan – a plan that Kayto was not a part of. “You’re smart little flower, more so than anyone realizes.” Kayto softly whispered.

            “What-what are you getting out of this? You don’t know who the snitch is, you don’t care about the new Nation. So what benefits do you get out of this?” I asked. Kayto just dusted off his robes, shrugging as if we weren’t in a clash seconds ago, “As I said earlier little flower, I was doing a favour. I have everything I want and more.” I didn’t bother staying around any longer. I did what I had to do, take up Kayto’s time.

            I turned on my heel, ready to run to the nearest entrance to get to Zuko but Kayto’s voice stopped me. “Ying Yue.”

            He said my name: no flower or petal, or even little bud.

            I didn’t bother looking over my shoulder, standing still. “They’re dangerous. They’ve killed hundreds; they discriminate against no one. I don’t know what they want, but I do know you’re the key…it’s all about blood.”

            My fists tighten, looking at the dirt underneath my feet, “…Thank you.”

            I changed out of my dress, brushing my hair as I slipped into one of Zuko’s old shirts. It was late, the moon peeking out as I anxiously sat at my vanity, waiting for Zuko’s arrival. And it was then I could hear the guards speaking, the door handle jiggle. Zuko. I bolted, throwing the brush to side as the doors finally opened.

            Zuko strolled in, the doors closing behind him as our eyes met. Impatiently, I eyed him, trying to read his body language, trying to gauge what the outcome was. His lips moved, a faint smile shining through, “We did it. It’s signed.”

            I threw my arms around his neck, they did it. I laughed merrily as Zuko squeezed me, “I’m so happy.” I muttered into his chest, hearing Zuko chuckle with happiness as he held me close, “It was because of you, if you didn’t take Kayto out for that walk-” I tensed, so caught up in the moment the events that just transpired slipped out of my mind.

            Within seconds Zuko pulled back, feeling the way my body went rigid, eyes narrowed with apprehension, “How was it? The walk.” Zuko muttered, watching the way I pressed my lips together. “Zuko. We need to talk.” Right away he looked over me with guilt, “Did he hurt you, I swear I’ll kill-”

            “Zuko, he’s not a good man.”

            “I already knew that-”

            “No Zuko, he’s a traitor. He’s working behind the Earth King.” Zuko’s eyes widen, his hands grasping his head as I spoke, trying to let the words I blurted settle. “I said to distract him, not fucking dissect the man to pieces. How did you find out?” Zuko hissed, rubbing his chin as he paced back and forth in the room.

            I sighed, falling onto the bed as I played with the hem of my shirt, spilling out every single word that transpired between us, conveniently leaving out any details of our mini battle. Zuko groaned, hissing under his breath as he clenched his jaw, “He’s a fucking genius.”

            “What?”

            “I can’t do anything.” I frowned, shaking my head as I watched the way Zuko fought with himself, “What do you mean, can’t you warn the Earth King?”

            “No, I don’t have proof. Just word of mouth. That’s why Kayto told you because he knew. If I say anything, accuse a noble of treason, that’s just asking for another hundred-year war.” I sighed, covering my face with my hands. That cunning bastard.

            I huffed as I crossed my arms, “Fine, it’s not like he’s a threat anyways…” I muttered under my breath. Zuko looked at me, confused, “What do you mean…”

            “Kayto’s not the issue; he’s nothing more but a stupid puppet,” I grumbled. It was pointless, this whole discussion. Nothing was going to arise from it. I didn’t know what his comrades wanted, and Kayto was at the end of the day, the definition of a lousy villain who just wanted an easy way to money, power, and sex. Kayto’s words echoed in my head, ‘a royal bed warmer’ – why does it sound so familiar? Someone called me that before…who?

            Zuko grasped my face, sighing softly as he towered in front of me, “So that’s all? He didn’t mention who these other people were? What they wanted?” I shook my head, letting myself crash against his hip as I hugged him. “I guess…we’re still at point zero. Still in the dark.” Zuko muttered, placing a soft kiss on my head as his hands rubbed my back. “I’m sorry, I wish I could tell you more.”

            “No, I’m sorry, you should’ve never been on that walk in the first place.”

            I huffed once again, a sigh escaping me as I took in his warmth. My eyes closing, “Zuko…”

            “Yes, love?”

            “I want cuddles before bed…” Zuko chuckled, running his fingers through my hair as I looked up at him with a pout, “You’ll get some and more.”

            “Promise?”

            “Promise.”

Copyright © 2019 Mystic-Kitten, inc. all rights reserved. No reposting, modifying, or translations of any kind allowed. Thank you for your cooperation.

Disclaimer: I do not own any Avatar characters portrayed in this story besides Ying Yue Jiang, Lia, Kima, and any future creations.

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[sabraeal]

Desert & Reward: Chapter 6

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Obiyuki Week, Day 1: Pragma Practical love, founded on reason or duty

Obi is buzzing when he steps back into that darkened room, every nerve prickling under his skin like the air before lightning strikes. Not even velvet and down can muffle the feeling; it’s worse when he feels it settle against it his back, when he stares up at the ceiling and his body remembers a night just like this, a conversation so different from this one --

He worried then, how he would bear it. How he’d live with a heart in his chest. Ha. Ha.

In three days time, he’ll be married. To Miss. Unimaginable to that boy in a bed three sizes too large for him, to that boy in the biggest bed he’d ever had.

Until he became a lord. His head aches. How did he even let himself get here, how did he get himself tied in so tight with all these princes and titles and intrigues?

He rolls to his side, letting his eyes drift shut. In three days time, he’ll be married --

But he’ll never be a husband.

Against all expectation, Obi sleeps.

Sleeps. Not a fitful doze, woken up every hour by some noise, a lump in his lump-less mattress, or an intrusive thought but -- an actual full night of rest, the sun sitting high outside his window when he finally wakes to the soft sounds of drawers and doors opening and closing, of cloth being pulled out and then hurriedly put away.

Obi blinks, lets out a four-letter groan, and mutters, “Is it after ten?”

“We’re at court,” Yori tells him in his entirely unnecessary way. He putters about, industriously picking out something for him to disagree with before breakfast. “Mr Morel said I was to have you keep city hours, though he begs that you do not get used to it.”

The idea of “getting used” to regular sleep would have him on the ground, if this bed wasn’t so damn comfortable. Instead, he rolls himself upright, feet dangling over the carpet. The pattern marks it as Watese; just as out of place here as he is. “Morel would rather keel over from an aneurysm than beg anything from me.”

Yori clucks, affecting the sort of shock that reminds him of a softer, more lined face. That he's homesick for any part of the south surprises him, but that fact that it’s Mrs Carre at least takes the sting out of it. “You are his lord. Mr Morel is ready to accommodate your every whim.”

Hilarious. Amazing that the kid could say it with a straight face. “Like you?”

“Of course, my lord.”

“Well, in that case...” He plucks the cravat laid so neatly on the bed, and tosses it. It flutters, like a bird with a broken wing, before crumpling on the floor. “I won’t be wearing that.”

Yori stares at it as if one of the barn cats has brought in a less-than-lively gift. “Well,” he says, so mild, “I can’t allow my lord to embarrass himself either.”

He can’t help the way his lips spread, the way his teeth bare, the way even muscle of him coils like he’s spoiling for a fight.

“Which is it, Yori?” he presses, waggling his eyebrows in challenge. “You can’t have both.”

“--And that is all they were able to come up with.” His Majesty settles back in his chair, head tilted back, long fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose. “A list of encryption that it cannot be.”

Obi pulls at his cravat, tied punishingly tight. He should know better than to antagonize domestics -- they always win. “Well, knowing where not to look is almost as good as knowing where to look.”

“Almost,” His Majesty agrees. “But not quite.”

The king has always seemed young to Obi, especially when he’s always next to lords and councilors that could have been his father, but the way his shoulders round in as he sits, the way small lines crinkle at the edge of his eyes --

He looks his age. Older maybe.

It’s almost too intimate seeing him like this, seeing him frustrated, and Obi drags his gaze down, staring at the list in his lap. Nearly two dozen clerks working for months, and all that they’ve made is a list of things they don’t know.

“I am sorry though.”

He blinks up from the list, head tilted. “Sorry?”

From beneath lidded eyes, midnight blue stares back at him, fixed. “Of course. I hate to be wasting your time when you have such a happy occasion to prepare for.”

Only His Majesty could make it sound like an accusation, a challenge. Obi shifts in his seat, glad that he wore the stupid cravat -- now, at least, the king wouldn’t see the guilty flush working its way up his neck. “No trouble at all, Elder Highness. I’ve been told it’s all well in hand, so --”

“But surely you have some preparations of you own to make.” His Majesty slides a pointed gaze over his jacket, his trousers. “Fittings for your new clothes, at least.”

Obi stares. “My what?”

A smile curls dangerously on his mouth. “Oh my. It seems there’s some work to do yet, Lord Obi.”

The thing is: he has clothes. Nice ones, trunks full of them, all made from fabrics he can hardly pronounce and animals he’s only vaguely aware of. Damask. Jacquard. Ermine. Vulcana. There can’t be a need for more.

“It’s not about having clothes, my lord.” Yori speaks with the sort of impatient patience that implies that sainthood is certain from this conversation alone. “It’s about having the right clothes.”

He has more clothes in those trunks than he’s had the whole rest of his life put together, even as Master’s aide. “I have a dozen types of pants.”

“Trousers,” Yori corrects, weary. “And none of these are meant for a wedding, let alone your own.”

Life was easier when any fancy party just required him to wear dress blacks. “Then what are they for?”

“Oh I don’t know,” his valet drawls, flicking pointedly through endless black. “Perhaps a funeral?”

Obi pulls his mouth thin, trying to stretch his spine, to gain a few imperious inches. Yori remains unimpressed. “I doubt His Majesty has to put up with this from his valet.”

“His Majesty owns a pair of pantaloons,” Yori claps back flatly. “And knows about colors outside of a monochromatic scale. Yesterday, I saw his pocket square was scarlet.”

Obi refuses to believe that he might have a point.

“Black,” he starts, “is always in fashion --”

“Fine,” Yori concedes with a sigh, eyeing the mess of finery littered across the room. Every flat surface has been press-ganged into service, waistcoats and jackets and all conceivable level of pants and hosiery have been strewn over them, a gallery of unworn clothes his new life has acquired without his knowing.

Any of his old clothes -- his black pants, the filmy black shirts, his good boots -- are suspiciously absent. Obi doubts it’s an accident.

“I’ll grant you the black suit.” Yori’s tone implies it would be easier to give up his first child than this. “But only if you will have a colored waistcoat.”

Obi lets a sharp smile pull at his lips. “If you insist --”

“Not including the brown wool,” he amends quickly, casting a dubious look at the thing. “No wool at all. And a real color. Watered silk or finer.”

Victory has never tasted so sweet. “Then I think we’ve come to a harmonious --”

The door knocks so hard it rattles.

Yori’s eyes dart to his, ask him a question he doesn’t know how to answer. No, he doesn’t know who this is; yes, it could very well bee a majesty or a highness or a your grace.

Somehow, when he hadn’t been watching, that became his life.

Reluctant, Yori turns toward the door, moving jerky, slow, like broken clockwork. “I...suppose I’ll get that, my lord.”

Obi bites down, caging the no, please behind his teeth. It wouldn’t do him any good; he’s served Wistal for far too long to think he can avoid what’s on the other side of that door by keeping it shut.

It opens, revealing dark hair, a casual lean, and a rugged scar right across an equally rough nose. He knew he should have kept that door closed.

“Good, you’re already halfway to naked,” Shidnote drawls smugly, sauntering into the room like he owns it, casting an appreciative eye over the tornado of finery that litters the room. “Saves us some time.”

Yori casts an anxious look between them. “Should I--? Are you --?”

“It’s Sir Shidnote.” His Majesty’s me. Obi bites back a grimace. “His Majesty’s aide.”

The looks shifts from anxious to accusatory; his valet far too well trained to blurt it out now, but Obi can see that he had perhaps -- perhaps -- been remiss in relaying his exact position at court.

“Well, we can’t all parley our connections to a title,” Shidnote notes, as if he isn’t a count of somewhere, like his use of sir isn’t just considered an eccentric affectation of some country noble at this point. “In any case, are you coming, Sir Obi?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Just where am I supposed to be going?”

“His Majesty said you needed new clothes, didn’t he?” His mouth twitches at the corners, ominously. “Well, in his infinite generosity, he asked a personal favor of his most favorite tailor, and now you have an appointment to be prodded with the same pins that touch his royal ass.”

Shidnote is enjoying this far too much.

He gives a mocking bob, holding out a hand toward the door, his grin so wide it crinkles his scar. “Now, I’m sure you’d just love to come this way, my lord.”

“I couldn’t possibly,” Obi hems, giving the man’s hands a wide berth. “The wedding -- it’s hardly two days away, and --”

“Oh, don’t you worry about that, Sir Obi,” Shidnote drawls, arm hooking around his shoulders like a vice. “His Majesty’s got is so everything will be ready in a real hurry. Practically shutting down the shop to dress you.”

Obi just manages a, “How…thoughtful.”

“Oh yeah,” Shidnote says, in something just more subdued than a crow. “Izana’s got a whole lot of those.

He expects Yori to be there – after all, he is Obi’s valet, and he gives him a token amount of control over his sartorial choices, even if he tends to nix three-quarters of them. What he does not expect, not at all, is –

“Well,” Kiki hums, steam curling off her tea, legs crossed, “I don’t think even the maestro will be able to fit you with all those clothes on.”

He spins on his heel, the door barely a meter away but Zakura catches him, using those few extra inches to keep him firmly planted on the carpet.

“Come on now, Sir Obi,” he grunts, the both of them struggling at the door. “Take your fittings like a man.”

“You get undressed with a peanut gallery,” Obi growls back, straining against their deadlock. “I’m sure I have something frilly enough in a trunk somewhere.”

“You don’t,” Kiki deadpans, “unless you want to make a wedding suit entirely out of shoulder capes, so I’m told.”

Obi glares at his traitorous valet, but Yori remains unrepentant – even if he does angle Miss Kiki and her seat between them. “They’re dashing.”

“Is that what Shirayuki says?” Kiki inquires mildly, eyebrows twitching above her teacup. “Come on, it’s bad enough it’s last minute, and there’s so much to do.”

Obi relents, stalking over to where the dais lurks, unassuming. He knows better; people with pins and opinions use these things. “It’s just a wedding suit.”

Three pairs of eyes settle on him, a mix of pity and incredulity.

“Oh no,” Kiki says, setting down her cup. “You don’t just need a wedding suit.”

“But I have clothes,” Obi insists as the racks are wheeled out, endless trousers and waistcoats and cravats surrounding him. “Even things for parties –“

“You need new ones,” Kiki tells him, firm. “Ones that aren’t entirely black.”

“I have waistcoats –“

“Of watered silk in solid colors,” she finished, unenthused. “I’ve heard. Not enough.”

Obi huffs, shoulders rounding. “I just don’t see why I need one for lunch and for the wedding and for breakfast –“

“Oh, that’s just to start,” Kiki says, “wait until you hear about your honeymoon wardrobe.”

“My --?” He turns, fixing Shidnote with a glare. “Just what are you doing?”

The man’s dropped his hulking form down into a chair, looking for all the world like he���s just stumbled into a dramatic, personal duel. “Oh, just taking in the show. Don’t mind me.”

“I don’t --”

“Don’t worry, Sir Zakura,” Kiki drawls, corner of her lips twitching, “I’m used to ignoring useless commentary.”

He’s given a reprieve around the time that food should be coming into the picture – which of course is another thing people want to discuss with him, though that at least sounds pleasant. Being plied with a hundred hors d’oeuvres while the maestro and his team frantically stitch together the first of his clothes sounds like the sort of break he can get behind, even if he is under strict instructions not to gain weight – not a single pound, sir, the Maestro had impressed up him, it might ruin the lay of your trousers.

A great pity, Miss Kiki sympathizes, entirely too amused.

Obi picks at his shoulder, certain there’s still pins trapped there, feeling them prick wherever his shirt brushes against his skin.

“Must you be so dramatic?” Kiki sighs as they take the corner, scowling as his shoulder twitch, trying to dislodge any wayward pins.

“I can feel them,” he insists. “They’re right --”

And that, of course, is when Her Majesty turns the corner, her gaggle of young maids bobbing behind her like ducklings trailing their mother. He tenses, taking in the pleased curl of her smile, the way her eyes light when she makes him at the other end of the hall, and he can’t understand why, not until –

Not until her ladies part, just so, and he catches red flash between their finery, and those wide, familiar eyes --

“Obi!” A small hand darts out, grasping at his arm, just below the elbow – “Ow!”

“Oh, Miss! I --” He watches her pluck one of those wicked pins from his sleeve. “From the fittings. I think they’re all over. I’m a very handsome trap, I know.”

She giggles, ducking her head. “Me too. I think --”

“Lady Shirayuki, it’s about time --”

“Obi, we’re on a schedule --”

He meets her eyes with a grin. He leans in, muttering, “I heard the groom wasn’t supposed to see the bride before the wedding, but this is ridiculous.”

She flushes red, but smiles back, leaning in –

Her Majesty comes up behind her, guiding her forward with a firm hand about her waist, only moments before Kiki does the same, just – less gentle.

“You’ll have plenty of time to see each other,” the queen promises with an arch smile. “…On your wedding night.”

He stumbles at that, and by the time he’s recovered, Miss has been firmly swept away, only close enough to meet his gaze before they turn the next corner.

“Come on,” Kiki grunts, shoving him. “We don’t have time for this.”

“I should be about to see my fiancée alone,” he grouses, “let alone with a half dozen chaperones in a hallway.”

“Nope.” Kiki pushes him along, towards the delicious aromas wafting down the hall. “You’re a disaster.”

“What, afraid we’d find some way to cancel it?” he taunts, pulling himself to his full height so he can properly loom. “Two of us alone together, there’s nothing we can’t –“

“No,” she sighs, rolling her eyes. “If we leave you alone, Shirayuki will find some way to get you to elope.”

“I think the fit is wrong on the trousers,” Kiki drawls, holding out her cup for one of the assistants to fill. “Do you have a cut that’s tighter?”

“Tighter?” Obi yelps. “What, do you want them to paint them on?”

“If they must,” she informs him mildly. “Anyway, maestro – tighter?”

“Of course, my lady,” the man says, scurrying off.

“You’re indecent,” Obi accuses, only half joking.

She lifts her brows, pointed. “I’m fashionable. And if you have the thighs to pull it off, I’m not quite sure why you’re complaining.”

His mouth pulls thin. “I have a valet, you know. I can dress myself.”

“I was under the distinct impression having a valet meant you didn’t dress yourself.” She sets down her cup. “Besides, he’s paid to agree with you.”

Funny, how that has never come up in his time with his. “Yori, what do you think?”

Yori looks like he might faint from the attention. “Whatever pleases you, my lord, I’m sure will be --”

“You don’t need to impress me with obedience, sir,” Kiki informs him. “I’ve already seen him dress himself for four years.”

“Hey –“

“Oh, in that case.” Yori’s eyes narrow, taking in the roominess of the trouser. “Tighter, definitely.”

The luncheon is billed as an informal affair, but Obi’s been in Wistal long enough to know what that means: look as fancy as you can, but don’t look like you’re trying. He’d tried to pitch his normal trousers, loose and comfort, but he’d hardly gotten a word in before Kiki had said, buckskins, and now here he is, in a pair that was cut to please everyone but him.

Miss’s hand burns even through his coat, and when she squeezes it, reassuring, he’s sure his knees wobble, just the slightest bit.

“You look very nice,” she murmurs, body swaying into his as they take their seat at the head table, just the two of them. He’d worried that she wouldn’t be able to do this, play the pleased, loving fiancee, but in the palest pink silk and lace, her eyes gazing up at him so wide and earnest --

He almost forgets that this is all just an -- an arrangement.

“Isn’t that supposed to be my line?” he teases, sliding in her chair. “It’s my job to tell you how pretty you look first.”

She flushes, ducking her head to hide it. “I thought it might be nice for you to hear it for once.”

His hands clench on his thighs, slick. “Miss is too kind. I’ll get spoiled if you keep up like this.”

Her hand tangles with his beneath the linens. “Good.”

“Shirayuki!”

They startle apart, glancing up to see who calls out --

“Garrack.” Miss goggles, cheeks flushed. “I didn’t know you were invited.”

Garrack is hardly dressed much different than normal, save the lack of a white coat. True to form, she took the invitation at face value, and is wearing the sort of smug expression that says she knows exactly how much it’s annoying the glittering crowd behind her.

“I may be lacking the heap of titles that usually is a prerequisite to these things, but I have one that matters.” She grins, all teeth. “It seems these nobles are a superstitious lot. They treat Chief Pharmacist like it means Head Evil Fairy and invite me to everything, just in case. I usually do them the courtesy of declining, but --” her eyes run knowingly over the both of them -- “how could I miss the luncheon of my favorite student?”

Miss demures, flushing all the way to the tips of her ears, and Obi can’t help himself -- “Higata will be heartbroken.”

“Oh, he knows where he stands,” Garrack says, nonchalant. “I hope you don’t mind, Shirayuki, but I know you won’t have much time the next few days, so if we could...?”

“Oh!” Miss gives him an apologetic look. “Do you mind? I didn’t have time to send a report before I left Wilant.”

His chest tightens, thinking about the hurry she had left in to make it here before him, how she must have left the lab in complete disarray -- “Don’t worry,” he manages with a warm smile. “I’ll hold down the fort.”

He watches her go, swaying through the crowd as Garrack leads her onto the balcony, the only place where it’s possible for them to have privacy.

“I suppose I’m obliged to congratulate you on your happy nuptials.”

He drags his gaze away, letting them fix on black hair and bird-blue eyes. Kihal looks as comfortable in her dress as he does in his trousers. “Though I hope you know, Shirayuki’s a saint to take you.”

“You know, I’m a bit vague on the whole…peerage bit. But marquis does outrank countess doesn’t it?” His widens his eyes, so innocent. “Why, am I your liege lord?”

“Thankfully not,” she bites out, “gods forbid. And to think, you’ll kiss Shirayuki with that mouth.”

He won’t, but there’s no need for her to know that. “Jealous?”

“You wish.” Her smile turns sly as she gives the balcony a pointed perusal. “Or maybe not.”

He doesn’t deign to give an answer, not when they both know it so well.

“I suspect you must recognize the room,” Kihal begins, in a completely different tone.

“Not even slightly,” he admits. “This was all arranged by your soon-to-be beloved brother. I could put names to faces if I tried, but...”

“Is that so?” He voice is deceptively light. “It seems like half the south is here. Not the Forenzos, of course, they never come to anything, but everyone else...”

Obi looks out over the room -- Count Luigis there, half the coast over there --

“They must be quite pleased,” she remarks, “after all, a margravine? From Tanbarun? What opportunities that will open up.”

“There you are.” Master steps up beside her, hand solicitously at her back. Kihal leans back into it, just slightly; it’s not a conscious move, but one that shows their ease with one another. Obi cannot help but wonder just what Master has been doing with these years in Wistal. “I see you’ve rushed to give Obi your congratulations.”

Kihal’s mouth twitches, fighting the urge to scowl. “Something like that.”

“I’ve been trying to make my way over for the past quarter of an hour,” Zen admits, “but my brother keeps throwing people at me.”

“Funny,” Obi drawls, gaze fixed on him. “Been a lot of that, lately. Must run in the family.”

Zen stares at him, cheeks flushed. “Obi--”

“You boys can talk later,” Kihal sighs, tugging at Zen. “Let’s go give our congratulations to Shirayuki now.”

“I want to see the green again,” Kiki says, head balanced on two fingers. “And maybe that gold. And the scarlet, there on that rack, with the white.”

“My lady,” Yori interjects nervously. “My lord prefers darker –“

“Your lord’s entire wardrobe is black,” she drawls, flipping through the rack that been rolled over to her. “His opinion is invalid.”

“He’s still standing here,” Obi reminds her.

“And he’s going to try on the scarlet damask with the white suit.” Her eyebrows tilt in challenge. “Isn’t he?”

Obi deflates. “Yes.”

Yori stares at Kiki like she’s revealed herself to be superhuman, and angel in human guise. “I think the gold, my lady.”

Kiki considers the suggestion. “And definitely the gold as well.”

It’s only meal service that brings Miss back to his side; once she leaves her impromptu meeting with Garrack, she barely makes it more than five steps total, completely overrun with well-wishers and old acquaintances. Obi makes more than one attempt to reach her -- after all, if they’re going to sell this whole happy couple thing, they might try being within arm’s reach -- but he’s ambushed by his own parade of speculative mamas and young bucks eager for tonight.

“My, my.” It takes everything not to jump at the words, spoke too close. His Majesty emerges from behind him, champagne bubbling in his flute and smile curling one edge of his lips. “You’ve been quite busy, haven’t you?”

“From what I’ve been hearing, I’ll be busier tonight.” Obi takes a moment to sip at his own drink. “Is there some wedding tradition I’m missing?”

“Why, I thought you of all people would know.” His Majesty looks uncomfortably close to gleeful. “Isn’t it considered common for young grooms to go out before their wedding night, drink unlikely amounts of alcohol --?”

“A stag night?” he yelps. “This is -- they’re talking about my stag night?”

And eyebrow lifts, challenging. “Surely you didn’t think my brother would be remiss in his duties.”

“No...” He’d just thought it would be a think only commoners did, something Master only knew about from slumming with the guardsmen, not --

Not some grand soiree, inviting every nobleman old enough to hold his liquor and young enough to enjoy it. He’d expected Master and Mister and maybe even Miss Kiki, but this --

“Why, even I have to admit I’m eager to see what he’s come up with,” His Majesty drawls.

Obi stares. “You...you’re....to...?”

“Of course.” He steps closer, expression shuttering to something far more serious. “Though we’ll have some far more pressing business to take care of before then.”

“What else could there be?”

His mouth pulls flat, expression guarded. “Why, the marriage contract, of course.” His Majesty fixes him with a meaningful look. “Tanbarun will be....eager to see it, when all this comes out.”

[rebootrevolution]

X-Men Novelization Ch. 56

Chapter Fifty-Six

Even for Pietro there were times when it was important to settle down and take it all in. Scant weeks ago the growing Brotherhood was crammed into a broken down factory, training the new recruits in the confined quarters as best they could, the machines whirring and thundering and pumping out products that Magneto alone knew the purpose of. They weren’t crammed in anywhere now. Now they had all the space in the world.

The speedster gazed out the long window along one side of Asteroid M at the Earth below. They were not completely outside the atmosphere, but they were high enough to remain in orbit around the glowing blue globe below. The facilities were a mishmash of buildings ripped from their foundations combined with carved out pieces of earth. It was just when the new recruits were grumbling about living in squalor that Magneto had gathered them all in the same room, sat in his gleaming throne of chrome, and lifted them into the heavens.

As majestic as the view was, it could not hold Pietro’s attention forever. He zipped through the hallways, passing the workout room where a few mutants were getting in some late night lifting, then passing the barren rec room where Pyro cackled his head off at some TV show called Offspring. Pietro slowed down when he came through the upper level of the main hangar where two of the chrome pods finished docking and opened up. One of the orbs barely contained Blob’s girth and he stretched out his arms as it came unsealed. The other orb had a young woman with slicked back hair that Pietro did not recognize. He appeared at her side with a handshake and a smile. She saw him just as he was reaching out his hand and suddenly he was thrown back into a stack of boxes, spilling them over. When he stood up he was flushed red and Blob was laughing his gargantuan ass off.

“Eunice here don’t much like to be touched. Fact, we’re thinkin’ that’s what we might be callin’ her. ‘Eunice the Untouchable,;” Blob said, indicating the smiling woman.

She spoke with an Italian accent, “Not without a little warning.” She smiled.

Pietro stood up and dusted himself off. “Was this the one camped out in a wine cellar?” he asked.

Blob chuckled. “Sure was. My first recruit mission and it was with a gal doin’ same as I was when you found me, Quick Sliver. Sat herself down to drink and refused to get up. Halfa Italy was outside her door and ain’t noone could get in ‘til ol’ Blob came knockin’.”

“Charming,” Pietro said. Resisting the urge to try for another hand shake he instead indicated himself and said, “Dear Eunice, the name is Quicksilver. I think you’ll find my father’s accommodations to have a more scenic view than even the best of Italy can offer.”

She looked around. “Non mi interessa,” she replied. “Is there wine?”

“You bet your ass there is,” Blob said, leading the way at his glacial pace ahead as Eunice followed.

How did he come to be associated with these people? They were in orbit, surrounded by machinery more advanced than any of them had ever dreamed, and yet Pietro felt at times that his sister and himself alone could appreciate any of it more than cackling at stupid TV shows and pouring and endless stream of stolen booze down their throats.

Of course, there was also Magneto himself. Pietro wondered often how his father could tolerate such lowly individuals, but he at once knew the answer was that Erik would take any who stood on his side of the cause. Without knowing where he was going he sped off, realizing that he was heading toward the throne room only after he arrived at the massive doors.

He knew that Magneto was inside, as it took Magneto’s active presence on his throne to retrieve the orbs that Blob and the Untouchable arrived in. Pietro’s father called the machine Ferraro, and its amplification of his abilities was how Magneto was able to lift Asteroid M into the sky in the first place. He knocked on the doors and waited what felt like an eternity (but what he knew was no more than thirty seconds) for the doors to open themselves up. The throne sat at Ferraro’s epicenter with Magneto in its seat, the wires and cables feeding down into the helmet that he wore in a tangled mass of sparking and buzzing electronics. Magneto removed the helmet and his white hair, so like Pietro’s own, spilled out.

“Pietro. I was just about to summon you.”

“What for, father? Can I be of help?”

“Gather the others before I explain. The original Brotherhood alone. We have an undertaking ahead of us which requires...preparation.” Pietro hesitated for a moment, not knowing exactly what it was he wanted to talk to his father about, but knowing that he would not have the chance once there were others around. His father had as little patience as he did. “With haste, Pietro!”

Wanda was exactly where Pietro expected her to be, spread out in bed with a book arched over her nose. It was A Tale of Two Cities, the same copy Pietro finished during a commercial break once and now hardly remembered. He knocked lightly on her door frame.

“Father needs us. Apparently we have an ‘undertaking,’” as he said it he wiggled his fingers and bounced his eyebrows, making Wanda laugh. She looked longingly at her book as she set it aside, changing into some clothes piled around her bed.

“I’ll see you there, just give me a minute.”

“Last one there is a rotten egg,” Pietro said before darting off. It was one of his favorite new phrases in English, one that Mystique thought he might enjoy. The woman had an ear for regional dialects and was invaluable in teaching Pietro and Wanda to blend in to their new American environs, but Pietro knew better than to trust her. She had some kind of relationship with their father that surpassed that of the other Brotherhood members, and even though she was not an original member it was as though Magneto trusted her more than he did his own children.

With trustworthiness in mind, Pietro came upon Jason Wyngarde, the “Mastermind,” the kitchen area with a steamy cup of tea and a cigarette.  “You aren’t supposed to smoke up here,” Pietro told him, appearing in a chair opposite the Brit.

Wyngarde puffed his cigarette with exaggeration before saying “It hardly seems worth our noble leader’s time to send me out for a smoke break, now does it?”

Pietro snatched the cigarette from his fingers and threw it in the sink, saying “He wants us all in the throne room immediately,” before racing off.

Toad proved much harder to find, and it was only after Pietro searched every corner of Asteroid M twice that he stopped to ask where he was. Avalanche was the first one he came across, the Cretan mutant shrugging his broad shoulders and saying, “Somewhere in New York, last I heard. Been gone nearly a week.”

Pietro did not look forward to telling Magneto the news, and rightly so. Moments later when he relayed the information Magneto tore a panel of chrome off one wall and smashed it into a tight ball before dropping it. “The incompetent fool. I sent him out on a recruitment mission so long ago I nearly forgot.”

Wanda and Wyngarde showed up nearly simultaneously, with Wyngarde walking behind Pietro’s sister and doing things to her with eyes that Pietro did not like one bit. Pietro turned to his father.

“Is it really critical that we need him for whatever you have planned?” Pietro asked.

Magneto raised his hands and the panels in the floor whirled around and assembled themselves into a conference table with three chairs on the side opposite from himself. Pietro, Wanda, and Wyngarde took their seats as Magneto spoke. “What I have planned next is a statement, a bold statement, and it is one best made with all of the original Brotherhood members present. While Toad himself is of little importance, as a unit we will show the world that the Brotherhood has been the most powerful threat to mankind since our first attack on the Capitol Building.”

“What is it you have planned, sirt?” Wanda asked.

Wyngarde leaned back and gave her a sick smile. “I would wager your father is setting his sights an ambition surpassing even our surroundings, dear Wanda.”

“If you call me ‘dear’ again I will turn you inside out so that you have so smoke your cigarettes through your other end, Wyngarde,” Wanda told him, turning her attention back to Magneto. “Father?”

Magneto ignored the tension between the two. “Mastermind is correct. The X-Men’s resistance to our first attack tempered our message of mutant superiority and it is past time that remind humanity of just who looms overhead. We need to show them that even their mightiest mortals are ants beneath our boot.”

Pietro’s eyes widened as he put it together. So unlike himself, his next words dripped from his mouth so slowly that he was interrupted. “You...don’t mean we’re...going to attack--

“The Avengers,” Magneto declared. He gave a smile of such confidence that a thought recurred for Pietro that had been racing around the furthest corners of his mind for months. It was possible that his father was entirely and completely mad.