#it’s been weird to see people JUMP DOWN other people’s throats because they dared to criticize the story

[bxriles]

I gotta be honest, the ending of JJK isn’t doing it for me. It feels underwhelming. And before anyone freaks tf out and tells me that I “can’t read” or that I “didn’t understand the point of JJK” I can promise you that I did. I understand and I can read between the lines and make inferences. I can also promise you that I know just because the ending isn’t my cup of tea, does not mean that the ending is objectively bad. I get all of that.

And yet, I still think the execution was fumbled and I think that’s a bummer. In a desperate need to be *different* from the rest of Shonen manga, I think the last 10-15ish chapters have felt incredibly similar to the rest of the genre. At least, in my opinion they have.

Argue with the wall if this post pissed you off. I’m allowed to post my opinion on my blog.

[himbosandhardwear]

Steddie I 2.3k words I Angst I Hurt/Comfort I Idiots to Lovers I SFW

The phone rings at a quarter to six, not an unheard of time for someone to call on a Friday evening, but he's not expecting anyone, so he lets it ring out until the machine gets it. Screening phone calls has become the new normal in the Munson abode. 

“Hey, Eddie, it's me.” There's a weird pause and then he gives unnecessary clarification. “Steve. It's Steve. You there?”

Eddie's already heading toward the phone, so he's still laughing when he picks up. “I can't believe it took me six years to figure out what a huge dork you are.”

“Me? Why am I a dork?”

“Because you just talked to my machine as though you've never called here before. It was weird. You're weird.”

Eddie hopes this comes across like the compliment that it is. Sometimes he says things to Steve and he's not sure if they land the way he wants. This time does land, thankfully, as Steve chuckles softly. 

“So what's up?” He asks, hoping he doesn't sound too eager, like he's desperate for a hangout.

“Oh. Um. So, I was wondering if you're free tonight?” 

Eddie punches the air a few times. “Sure am. What’d you have in mind?”

“Movie? The Hawk is playing some disgusting horror flick I assume you'd be into. And, uh, maybe food. Burgers or something.”

“Or something,” Eddie teases. He's practically floating on air, which is embarrassing, but Steve doesn't know that. “Sounds like a date,” he says, stupidly. 

Steve doesn't respond right away, the seconds stretching to infinity before he clears his throat. “Well, yeah. I hope so.”

Static fizzles through Eddie's brain. “What.”

“I hope it sounds like a date. Cause. You know.”

“I don't know,” Eddie manages, brain still skipping gears. 

“Because I'm trying to take you out. On a date.”

Okay, yes, Steve has become one of his closest friends over the last five months, and yes, sometimes Eddie flirts with him because he's a red blooded American faggot and Steve is smoking hot, but never in ten thousand years would Eddie predict this happening. It doesn't make sense. 

“Date?” He chokes out. 

“Is that okay?” Steve asks, soft, nervous. 

It's so okay Eddie can't fathom it. “Uh huh.” 

“Cool. I'll swing by at eight?”

“Cool.”

“Awesome. See you in a bit.”

And then, just before Steve hangs up, he hears it, the thing that makes everything that came before it suddenly make sense. 

Laughter. Robin's donkey braying laughter, coupled with cheers from at least three other people. 

So yeah. That checks out. It hasn't happened in years, not since middle school, before Eddie got too scary for girls to fuck with, but it's not the first time someone got dared to ask Eddie out. 

He slips down the wall and lands with a thud on the linoleum, cold water seeping through his veins as the implications become clear. The people he thought were his friends got together, without him, and thought it would be hilarious to dare Steve to ask him out. And he did it. He actually did it. And Robin! Her being in on it is almost worse. He really thought better of her, queer geek solidarity and all that. 

Has every interaction with these people been fake? Why bother? It doesn't make sense, but then again, he'd only recently let his guard down, started to believe they really liked him, wanted him around. It never made any sense that they liked him in the first place, Steve especially, he'd been wondering when the other shoe would drop and now here it is. Sort of wishes they'd just left him alone after everything and not gotten him attached like he is. It hurts. Logically, he knows he'll be fine, he has Wayne and the CC boys and some casual friends in Indy, he'll be okay, but it still hurts. 

What if this forces Dustin and the other kids to pick sides? He doesn't want that. Maybe he should just bite the bullet and move away, make the decision easier for them. It's about time anyway. He'll need to borrow some money from somewhere to fund the move but-

A knock on the door startles him out of his spiral and he jumps up on instinct. The clock on the stove says it's 7:55. He's been staring at the wall for two hours. A second knock snaps him out of another spiral.

“Jesus Christ,” he snaps upon seeing Steve Harrington at his door, dressed to kill. What a waste.

Steve's still lovely face drops as he takes in Eddie's ire. “What's wrong?”

“What's wrong?” His voice grates. “How fucking far were you planning on taking this bit? Bucket of pigs blood rigged at the diner? Maybe you drive me thirty miles outside of town and leave me there? What?”

Steve looks equal parts confused and horrified. Caught out too early to satisfy the parameters of the bet no doubt. “Eddie…”

“Save it. Take your gas station flowers and fuck off.” He slams the door behind him, it gives a satisfying crash, much better than the trailer's old door. 

He stands on the other side of it, not sure what to do with himself, when he hears a pathetic, “No, no, no, no,” and, “I don't understand,” and, “Eddie. Please.”

“Fuck! Off!” He yells at the door. If he has to endure any more manipulation he might actually get violent. Wouldn't be the first time he thought about attacking Steve Harrington. The anger is good, he needs it. As long as he's angry he isn't thinking about how bad it hurts. 

A minute goes by without a peep from Steve, but he also hasn't heard a car door slam or start up or drive away. Eddie slinks over to the porch window and peeks out. Steve is just sitting bent over on the top step, both hands in his hair, stupid bouquet of flowers at his side. The sight twinges in Eddie's guts, something like guilt squirming around inside. He doesn't want to acknowledge it but it gets harder to ignore the longer he watches Steve, alone and practically curled up on the stoop. What would be the purpose of that if he only came as a joke? He assumes maybe Steve is just upset that he didn't get to pull off his probable months in the making scheme but…the longer he watches the harder it gets to convince himself that's what's happening. 

Steve is crying. He can tell by the uneven breaths he's taking. The odds are getting slimmer that this is some manipulative tactic. If Steve is genuinely upset Eddie can't just ignore it. 

He opens the door. 

Steve immediately scrambles to wipe the evidence off his face, which is gut wrenching. If he's still faking he deserves an Oscar. 

He doesn't turn when Eddie approaches and sits gingerly at his side. He doesn't try to provocate, just sniffs as quietly as he can with his face turned away.

Eddie, for his part, doesn't know what to do next. His anger has left him, which was the only thing keeping him afloat. He suddenly wishes he hadn't left his cigs on the coffee table.

“I'm not sure what happened between when I called and now but I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you.” He turns toward Eddie but doesn't make eye contact. “If you changed your mind, that's…fine, I guess. But please don't be mad at me. I don't think I can take that right now.”

Guess we're hashing this out.

“What happened was I heard everyone at your place having a laugh at my expense. Did you think I wouldn't figure out what that meant? You're not the first person to ask me out as a joke. Amy Johnston asked me to the Snow Ball as a dare in the 8th grade.”

There's that horrified look again. He reaches out like he wants to touch Eddie's knee but Eddie startles so badly he wrenches his hand back. 

“You can't think I would do that.”

“I can and I do.” His fingers are itching for that cigarette.

“Eddie. Please look at me.” 

He does but only because Steve sounds like he's on the verge of a nervous breakdown. His wet, puppy dog eyes are going to be the last thing Eddie's sees before he dies, he just knows it.

“They weren't laughing at you. They were laughing at me. That wasn't a prank at your expense, it was a fucking intervention, for me to pull my head out of my ass.” He stares at Eddie with his wide, imploring eyes. “I swear to you. On Dustin's mom.”

Eddie's cheek twitches. “If Claudia drops dead you've gotta raise Henderson yourself, you know that, right?”

“Gladly.” He gives one big sniff, done with hiding how fucked up this has made him. “Rob was laughing because she was happy, and everyone else was cheering because they were proud of me, that's literally it. ‘Finally ask Eddie on a date’ mission was a success. Until, you know, this part. I'm sorry you thought we would do something like that to you. Did we…or did I maybe, do something to make you think we weren't friends?”

Now Eddie is crying. He should just dig a hole and lay down in it. 

“Hey,” Steve scoots over and timidly places a hand over Eddie's clenching fingers, “it's okay. You don't have to tell me. I just want to make sure you know we love you. I don't want you to ever think otherwise.”

Okay, not helping with the waterworks.

“It's not your fault,” he manages to convey between hiccups. “I'm just an asshole who assumes the worst in people.”

Steve's thumb rubs gently over Eddie's wrist bone. “For good reason. I get it, you haven't had a lot of people in your corner, huh?”

He shakes his head, hyper aware that he's dribbling snot.

“Hey,” he pats Eddie's arm, pulling away slowly, “why don't we just stay in, order a pizza?”

Eddie sniffs, nods. Date canceled then. Good job, Munson. 

“I'll dump these,” Steve picks up the flowers, “don't know what I was thinking. Dating mode autopilot I guess.”

Eddie, feeling hysterical, lunges for them. “No! They're mine!” He crushes the bouquet to his chest. He's imprinted on them. If they disappear, any chance he has of going back to date mode will disappear with them. 

Steve stares at him, eyes ping-ponging up and down from the flowers to Eddie's face. He probably thinks Eddie has gone mental, and he'd be right. He hides his face in the purple and orange petals, destroying them irreparably no doubt. One would think he would be all cried out but he's been mainlining mountain dew all day so he must be extra hydrated.

“Eds. What's wrong?”

“Besides the obvious?!” He screeches, still hiding. 

“Yeah.”

“I fucked it up. You actually wanted to date me and I fucked it up.” 

Without warning, Steve has him bundled up against his chest, flowers crushed even more between them. “You didn't fuck it up. I just didn't think you'd want to go out tonight, after all this. It can still be a date if you want. An inside date.”

“If I want? You are certifiable, of course I want,” he mumbles into Steve's perfect tits. “I can't believe you want. You were really brave and I yelled at you.”

“Already forgiven.”

“You look really nice and I look like a hobo.”

“No more than usual.”

That startles a laugh out of Eddie. He smacks Steve on one of his perfect tits. His face is probably a lost cause but he does attempt to mop it up. “Sorry I made you cry.”

“Pfft,” he waves that off as though it were nothing, “for about three minutes I thought I'd let my friends talk me into blowing up one of my favorite relationships, that's all I cared about, really. If you're not mad at me I'm good as new.” He gets all sheepish for a second. “Also I've been crying off and on all day. Those assholes showed up at my door at ten am. I sobbed for forty five minutes over that time I called Johnathan a queer.”

“You said what?” King Steve shit, Eddie imagines.

“Yeah, and a lot worse than that too, if you can imagine. Don't worry, he beat my ass good over it. And he says we're square since he banged Nancy while we were technically still together.”

Eddie boggles at the ease with which all of this is said. Killing monsters really puts some shit into perspective, he supposes.

He glances up when Steve stands, brushing his hands off on his skin tight jeans before holding one out for Eddie to take. 

“C'mon. Inside date. We'll do a redo of outside date next weekend.”

He lets Steve pull him up. “Okay. You gotta let me get the pizza though.”

He beams at Eddie, sunshine incarnate. “Deal.” 

It occurs to Eddie, as he pulls a huge plastic Pacers cup out of the cupboard to put his flowers in, that Steve Harrington actually likes him. Romantically. Even though Eddie is a big dumbass. 

“Hey,” he drawls.

Steve glances over from where he's artfully posed at the opposite counter. “Mmm?”

“We should probably make out.”

Steve matches Eddie's casual statement, only failing where his cheeks are going red. “Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah. I'd hate to waste all this time and money just to find out on the third date we're not compatible. Sexually.” 

Steve, who has never been shy about flirting, slinks over to him, fingers travel lightly over the cut collar of his Megadeath T-shirt, sending Eddie's heart into overdrive. “You're so right. Couch or bed?”

They never do manage to call for pizza.

[ramspatula]

Part 7 | Lloyd Garmadon x fem!reader | Part 7

I was getting so tired…

Previous part, Master list, Next part

Dr Julien was- nice. Strange. But nice. I suppose I couldn’t judge him too much as he had been trapped in this lighthouse place for almost two decades. However, I was surprised at the lack of wariness from the ninja who entered the place the man lived in with no hesitation. Zane, I could understand. I just had to trust that the ninja, Lloyd specifically, trusted Zane enough to trust that he trusted his father enough to know we were not in immediate danger of the man. That was a sentence I hoped never to repeat in my head again or out loud.

“-and what is your element, dearie?” The man asked from where he sat at the table. The table that had appeared out of nowhere that also had a little robot that poured us tea. I smiled sheepishly and shook my head.

“I don’t have an element.” I clarified and he ah’ed but Jay frowned immediately.

“Then how did do you do that thing?!” Jay asked and my eyes darted around the table to see everyone’s focus on me yet no one came to my defence. “Surely you need to have an elemental power to do that?” He added and I felt my words start to get stuck in my throat.

“What thing?” Dr Julien asked and I looked at Lloyd nervously who didn’t meet my eyes, I swallowed nervously.

“I- uhm… I glitch.” I said and his eyes widened in intrigue.

“Glitch?!” He exclaimed. “How so? Can you show us?!” The man asked and I felt so out of place, even when surrounded by those who also had abilities- mine just weren’t from the same origin.

“Oh, Uhm… I don’t think there’s such a thing as the elemental power of glitch so I don’t really control it…“ I answered. “It’s just glitching, it doesn’t really do anything big-“ I added but was cut off by Kai laughter.

“Nothing big?! She’s being modest. You should’ve seen her at the museum! She took down the biggest stone warrior by glitching him into the floor without even thinking about it!” Kai exclaimed and the air suddenly felt heavier.

“Not to mention that if she hears her actual name- glitches! It’s w-“ What I assume Cole was about to say was that it was weird but he was cut off by the table itself glitching and all of our cups falling through the table.

“Oh my goodness! Extraordinary!” Dr Julien said and I just stared wide eyed with my hands up and away from the table. “Is it a thought or does it just happens?” He asked and I forced myself to swallow down my growing agitation. It didn’t work very well.

“I just- glitch! Things, myself, other people- excuse me.” I told them and jumped up before rushing away and back down the stairs I had come from.

I didn’t leave but I stopped before the door and stood against the cold wall. Why did it feel all of a sudden hard to breathe? Why did it always feel like I was never meant to talk about this? Why couldn’t I talk about this stupid power without feeling like something is pressing against my lungs and stopping me from breathing? It was ridiculous. What form of denial was this? It’s pathetic, really. Making a whole table glitch because Zane’s father was innocently asking me about my power and then Cole and Kai jumping in I just- maybe I was wrong to come. If I couldn’t handle my own power how I could I handle helping Lloyd with fulfilling his prophecy? Maybe I was just useless. Maybe I shouldn’t be here…

“Peaches?” That was Lloyd’s voice and it sounded so soft, so worried and I didnt dare open my mouth to respond as I knew a sob would probably fall out my mouth or a noise just as pathetic. “Are you down here?” Lloyd asked and I faced away from him as he made his way down the stairs, his footsteps not making a noise. The old staircase was the only thing alerting me of his moments with its creaks under his weight. “What’s wrong?” He asked, and I felt a hand gently cradle my arm as he looked over my shoulder at me. I shook my head.

“I’m just- ugh.” I wiped a rogue tear as soon as it left my water line and closed my eyes to stop my eyes from watering any more.

“I didn’t think anything was bad or- did I miss something?” Lloyd asked and I shook my head.

“No, I’m just- I’m just being ridiculous.” I told him and turned to face him. His face held a disbelieving expression.

“If there’s things you don’t want to talk about just let me know and I’ll make sure no one else will bring it up.” Lloyd told me and I looked up at him.

“No it’s not that and it shouldn’t be like that. I shouldn’t be as weird as I am.” I told him and he, to my surprise, scoffed.

“Y/n.” He said and my eyes shot up to meet his.

“Lloyd.” I replied and he dead panned.

“So it was Cole-“ Lloyd said and I shook my head.

“It was no one!” I told him. “Except me.” I clarified and he didn’t seem to believe me.

“What was it that upset you then?” Lloyd asked and I looked away.

“I’m not upset.” I said and he sent me a stern look.

“Oh really? This, right now, is not you upset? What? You came downstairs just to take a breath?” Lloyd asked and I rolled my eyes.

“Don’t do that.” I told him and he crossed his arms. “And I’m not upset- I’m not!” I repeated as he rolled his eyes. “It’s- hard to explain.” I said and he sent me a look.

“Try me.” Lloyd said and his tone frustrated me to no end.

“Talking about my… glitches, feels wrong and it’s just something that happens. Why focus on it?” I said and he frowned, eyebrows creasing in confusion.

“You talk to me about them.” He said and I closed my eyes in frustration.

“Yes but that’s you. You say my name and I don’t glitch!” I told him and Lloyd nodded but his expression didn’t fall.

“Why does it feel wrong?” He asked and I shook my head, my brain scrambling for any explanation and coming up with none.

“I don’t know! I don’t know anything about this! It’s not an element, I don’t just control it.” I told him and Lloyd looked down before smiling, a small one but still a smile. “What?” I asked and he chuckled.

“You really don’t know.” He said and I looked at him blankly.

“And that’s funny?” I asked and he shook his head before taking my hands.

“Do you think I discovered my powers and just knew how to control them?” Lloyd asked and I faltered. “It took months before I could even create the smallest burst of energy, let alone make the smallest flame.” Lloyd told me and I stared up at him, almost confused.

“But I’m not an elemental.” I told him and he nodded.

“I know, but a power is a power, no matter its origin. You are the vessel of that power for a reason.” Lloyd told me and I frowned.

“I don’t want to be.” I told him and he smiled before kissing my forehead.

“And that’s your problem, sweetheart.” He told me. “You think it’s this separate thing- it’s part of you.” Lloyd said and I sighed.

“So what was all that up there about then?” I asked and Lloyd chuckled.

“I never said there weren’t different rules… it’s just the premise that’s the same.” He told me and I said him an unimpressed look to try and hide my amusement. “If it helps, I didn’t want my powers either.” Lloyd told me, bringing me into a hug that I accepted.

“Your team must think I’m such a drama queen.” I said, tears still falling down my face.

“They’ve all been much worse, believe me! One time, Kai-“ Lloyd started telling me with an amused grin only to be cut off by a sudden yell from none other than Dr Julien.

“Hide! Away from the windows! Now!”

Dr Julien’s voice echoed down the stairs and Lloyd hauled me underneath the stairs and against his chest as we kneeled on the floor. My heart pounded in my chest as I held onto Lloyd tightly. He had his head pointed out the underneath of the stairs and I watched as his eyes hardened as he focused. It took me a moment to realise he was trying to hear or possibly catch sight of whatever we were hiding from. I laid my head gently on his collarbone and he moved a hand up to gently hold my head where it was. It was a small gesture to acknowledge that he was also looking out for me. I closed my eyes and his thumb began to caress the back of my neck, lightly grazing the hair at the back of my neck.

God it was not getting easier to get used to these dangerous things happening at any and all times.

After a moment, Lloyd looked down at me and smiled. I sent him a confused look and he continued to hold my head with an adoring stare. I mouthed a ‘what?!’ to him and he only chuckled silently before dipping his head down and connecting his lips to mine. I let him steal a kiss before he pulled away and I looked up at him with wide eyes.

“We’re safe.” Lloyd told me and I frowned.

“But no one- how do you know?!” I asked, in whisper and he smiled.

“My hearing is… enhanced, per se.” Lloyd said and I deadpanned.

“Per se?” I questioned and he grinned.

“You’re so cute.” He told me and I frowned. I wasn’t really following or even understanding the moment we were apparently having under these stairs.

“I appreciate the compliment but what the hell is going on?!” I questioned and Lloyd smiled.

“Sorry, I just realised how much you actually trust me.” He told me and I raised a brow.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I eyes him suspiciously and he chuckled again.

“It means that you continue to amaze me, Peaches.” Lloyd complimented again and I frowned.

“Once again- what the hell is going on?!” I asked and he only forced us to stand before taking my hand and leading me back up the stairs.

The others were slowly emerging from their hiding spots when we made it to the top of the stairs and I caught Wu readjusting his straw hat. I had begun to think it was glued to his head. Nya was helping Jay back to his feet and Kai was stretching, probably from being in an uncomfortable hiding spot. Cole was the last to emerge and I seriously wondered where a guy of his stature would hide? He wasn’t exactly getting into an empty cupboard. Dr Julien was still at the table with Misako holding a comforting hand on his shoulder as he regained his breath. Zane was next to the man too and helping his father to breathe properly.

“What was that thing?!” Jay questioned and I clung to Lloyd’s hand as he stood tall and confidently in front of me.

“Is that why you can’t leave, father?” Zane asked and I felt a pang of sympathy for the man and his nindroid son.

“Yes… but I understand that you need to.” Dr Julien said and my heart ached more for the man. I looked up at Lloyd with a sad look and he met my eyes with his own disheartened one before his face turned serious again. I imagine he was thinking about his own father-son relationship than the old man’s inability to escape this little island. I rubbed his arm comfortingly but Nya only smirked.

“You think you could help us out?” She asked and the man grinned.

“Of course! What do you need?” Dr Julien asked.

“How good at you at repairing thrusters on a ship?” Nya asked and gestured out the window. Dr Julien looked out the window and gasped.

“That ship has thrusters on?!” He asked and a shared amusement was felt in the room at the man’s amazement.

“She’s not the best she’s ever looked but I reckon you could help her out… what do you say, Doc?” Kai asked and Dr Julien grinned widely.

“I say… what are we waiting for?!” The man exclaimed before practically racing towards the stairs. I sent Lloyd an exasperated look.

We shared a brief moment of joint bliss before it was ruined by Kai slapping his hand on Lloyd’s shoulder and leaning over Lloyd’s shoulder and looking between us.

“You guys were gone for a long time… did you have some fun?” He asked and I cringed and Lloyd frowned.

“You thought that was a long time?” Lloyd asked and Kai’s eyes widened. “I feel bad for Pearl.” Lloyd told me and I rolled my eyes. Whilst Lloyd was enjoying his smug moment, I decided to tug on his hand to signal him to follow the old man and to hopefully not have our sex life put on blast any more. Lloyd chuckled before following me out.

“She’s never had any complaints before!” I heard Kai yell and I shook my head at the statement.

“Just let it go, bro. You don’t look good either way here.” Cole told Kai who could be heard sighing.

🪺. *. ⋆

The three days it took to fix the ship again felt like an eternity. Between sleeping on the floor of the lighthouse because sleeping on the Bounty was too risky to becoming a manual labourer to having to continually tie and adjust Nya’s clothes because I had none of my own. I was exhausted. I wasn’t a ninja. I didn’t have any training. I was a student who had to steal in order to be able to afford to eat. I didn’t have time to workout or worry about my health enough to maintain it. So yes, my blue friend with super strength did need to help me with things. And no I was not as strong as Nya despite also being a girl because Nya was a ninja with a lot more muscle than me. I was also annoyed because I felt like the but of the joke for the ninja as I didn’t get their inside jokes or could keep up with them.

“Is there anything else I could help with? I think I’m holding us back a little bit with the wiring right now?” I asked Dr Julien who was sat next to me and he gave me a concerned look before frowning. I noticed Zane share a concerned look with him too.

“I disagree, I think you’re doing a great job! You really picked this up quickly!” Dr Julien told me and I smiled.

“Are you sure? Because I know I’m no good out there with them but- I don’t know. I just feel a little like a burden.” I said and Dr Julien shook his head.

“Nonsense!” He exclaimed and Zane nodded. “Zane? Do you think Peach here is a burden?”

“On the contrary, I think you’ve been increasingly useful.” Zane said and I couldn’t help the thankful smile I gave him. “As ninja we forget that our view of the world is different to the view of others, that means we have lost some of our ‘common’ sense as our viewpoints are no longer common. You have been able to remind us of easier and quicker solutions.” Zane justified and I smiled.

“Thank you and sorry. I guess I just haven’t been feeling like myself over the past few days, maybe Im just feeling a little insecure.” I told them and Zane sent me a reassuring smile.

“A week ago you found out your partner was the green ninja, your home was destroyed, city was invaded, forced to evacuate and you are now helping to repair a flying ship in order to help your partner defeat his evil father in a prophesied final battle. I believe what you are feeling as of now is the feeling of being overwhelmed.” Zane told me and I nodded.

“I think you may be right.” I told them. “Thank you… I’m going to go make tea. Who wants one?” I asked and both men agreed.

It was only luck that on my way out I almost crash into my boyfriend.

“Oh! Careful, Peaches.” He lightly scolded me, hands on my hips to keep me steady. “Don’t need you hurting yourself.” Lloyd told me and I felt my eyes water but I nodded and rushed away from him, ignoring his frown. “Peaches?” He asked but I ignored him.

Lloyd turned back to Dr Julien and Zane who gave him a sympathetic look.

“Is she okay?” Lloyd asked and Dr Julien smiled at him.

“I believe that is what you should go find out.” Dr Julien advised and Lloyd’s eyes widened as he raced off in the direction he saw his girlfriend go.

I felt more stupid than ever. More pathetic than ever. And my headache grew as the tea pot whistled a higher note. I was glad we at least had gas again now. I was tired of having to ask Lloyd to light the stove and Kai making some snarky remark about just using a match. I was tired in general.

“Hey, Peaches.” I heard from the doorway and turned to see Lloyd, I offered him a small smile.

“Hey, Greenie.” I greeted back before going back to putting the right tea bag in each mug. “You want one?” I asked and he shrugged.

“Depends, will you stay and drink it with me? Talk to me a little?” Lloyd asked and I politely smiled.

“I wouldn’t want to be the reason we fall behind schedule.” I told him and he rolled his eyes.

“You wouldn’t be.” He assured before coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist. He placed his head against the back of my shoulder and sighed. “C’mon Y/n, I’m staring to miss you.” Lloyd said and I grinned at his dramatics.

“Lloyd.” I dragged as he began to kiss up my neck gently. “I can’t. Kai and Jay already think I drag out my tea breaks so I don’t have to do as much work. What will they say if I drag out this one to kiss my-“ I didn’t even get to finish my sentence as Lloyd’s head shot up from my neck as his grip around my waist loosened enough for me to turn around to look at him. I gave him a confused look and in turn he kept his eyebrows creased in a frown.

“They said what?” Lloyd asked and I shook my head.

“It’s all in jest and I do probably take a while compared to-“ I tried to justify but Lloyd shook his head.

“Compared to what? Cole has already had to yell at the both of them to get back 4 times this morning.” Lloyd said and I smiled. “And I don’t believe you think it’s all in jest.”

“I’m just not used to it all.” I told him and he frowned harder.

“Don’t make excuses for them, Y/n.” Lloyd told me and I felt my eyes begin to water. “If you’re upset then it doesn’t matter what intent they had.” He added and I felt my heart tighten at his caring words.

“It’s not just them- I’m just overwhelmed. I mean, I’ve lost everything.” I confessed and he nodded and as the kettle’s whistling became quieter my voice became more hushed. Like I only wanted him to hear these words because he was the only one I had left to open up to. “My home is gone. My possessions are gone- I don’t even own any clothes anymore! My shoes are ripping and I’m so fucking tired.” I whispered, tears began to slip from my eyes and Lloyd sighed, bringing me into his arms and my head came to hide in his chest. “I don’t even know what’s going to happen after we get home, if we do. I’m so lost.”

Lloyd fell quiet as quiet sobs began to leave my mouth and he only held me tighter when my body began to shake. After a little while when my thoughts continued to darken and remind me of every little inconvenience, Lloyd hoisted me up, forcing me to wrap my legs around his waist. He moved us to what I assumed was the corner of the room and sat against the wall. It was kind of ironic, a week ago we were sat in this position except it was me comforting him instead. His head came down to rest against the side of mine and began to whisper sweet nothings in my ear that only managed to make me quieten more tears to fall at his kindness and the genuine affection he was showing me.

“I’m sorry.” I heard Lloyd whisper and I froze. “I’ve been so focused on what’s about to happen to me that I’ve forgotten everything that’s just happened to you.” Lloyd told me and I shook my head.

“No, you don’t need to be sorry, Lloyd.” I told him, wiping my tears and nose with the back of my hand. “You didn’t do any of this to me, none of you did… you invited me into your home and your family. You’ve clothed me. You’re all I have right now. And I’ve never been so thankful.” I told him and he smiled.

“Do you think there’s any world out there where I be there when you most need me?” Lloyd asked and I sniffed.

“We’ve barely even been together a month. How can you promise such a thing?” I asked and Lloyd just stared at me for a moment before smiling again.

“I don’t know, I just know I don’t ever want to be away from you. I physically can’t ever be away from you. I mean- I couldn’t even think about staying away from you. You literally called me your personal stalker, Y/n.” Lloyd told me and I frowned.

“Is that a bad thing? Because I don’t see it as one. Should I?” I asked and Lloyd shrugged.

“I don’t know.” Lloyd admitted and I kissed his cheek.

“Maybe I don’t want to be away from you either.” I told him before resting my head against his shoulder. “I don’t feel safe anymore. I feel like I’m in constant danger and you’re the only thing that can protect me. I feel as if I can’t defend myself and I’m just dragging everyone around me down because I don’t understand anything. I feel like I’m dragging you down because I can’t be away from you and now you can’t be away from me!” I exclaimed, seemingly working us both back up.

“What are we going to do?” Lloyd asked and I shrugged, for the first time he actually sounded afraid.

“I don’t know.” I whispered before repeating it again as he held onto me tighter.

“Maybe we should meditate?” Lloyd questioned and I frowned.

“Meditate? I don’t know how-“ I went to say but Lloyd shook his head.

“Here, it’s easy.” He told me, placing my hand against his chest. “Get comfortable and just- just close your eyes. That’ll make it easier to focus.” Lloyd guided and I readjusted my position on him, until my whole body was lax against him. I closed my eyes and I felt him kiss my head. “Okay, now focus on your breathing and try to even it out.” Lloyd said and I frowned.

“All I can focus on is you.” I confessed and I felt Lloyd nod.

“No that’s good, that’s good.” Lloyd reassured. “Can you hear my heartbeat?” He asked and I chuckled.

“I can’t hear it but I can feel it.” I said and I almost felt Lloyd smile.

“Okay, close enough. Count my heartbeats.” He told me.

“Until when?”

“Until you feel calm.”

Just count… just count.

*thump*……..*thump*……*thump*

One…

Two…

Three…

Is Lloyd getting up? He’s picking me up? He’s carrying my somewhere?

Four…

Im so tired. I don’t want to open my eyes.

Five…

I’m so exhausted… maybe I don’t need to open my eyes.

Six…

Lloyd sighed as he laid the girl down on the bed they had previously shared on the bounty. He would have to move her later when she woke up again but for now, he knew she needed the sleep. He knew she needed him. He knew that this messed up need for dependency was mutual and he wasn’t sure he was happy about it. He always saw Peach as so stable. Well for the month he’d been with her, he thought so. She spoke so maturely, she communicated her thoughts well and she was very emotionally available to him. She hadn’t shunned him yet for all his baggage and fucked up decisions he made along the way. She forgave him for deceiving her and heard him out. So to know she was struggling so much the past week and he had been so focused on himself… it was selfish. He was selfish and narrow-minded. She had just lost everything and still threw all her energy into helping him and he had foolishly thought that she was over everything that just happened? That none of it was still raw for her. It happened less than a week ago for fucks sake! Maybe this fast paced relationship was ruining his own perception of time. Maybe all of this wasn’t meant to be so fast and they had both rushed into this head over heels and thought that simple communication could do more than time to actually build a foundation. Or maybe this was their own fucked up way of building a foundation? And fuck, shouldn’t that bite mark be less prominent as a scar? She never said it hurt her but I was as clear as day still.

What was Lloyd doing? Thinking even?! How could he put the right amount of time into her and their relationship if all he could do at the moment was focus on the final battle? It wasn’t all about him and this prophecy!

Lloyd wiped the tear that dared to fall down his face as soon as it left his waterline and with a sniff, he leant down and kissed Y/n’s hairline. He moved some hair out her face and behind her ear before leaning his head against hers.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He whispered. “I’m sorry. You needed me. And I didn’t realise. I do now and I’m sorry. You’re not just my anchor, I’m yours too. And from now on, I’ll hold up my end of that.” Lloyd promised with a kiss to her forehead. “I’m going to find a way to help you, actually. You’ll feel safe again. I’ll make sure of it.” Lloyd declared, still in a whisper before leaving the room.

The tea was long forgotten in the kitchen and Lloyd boiled the kettle again. He needed a drink, something to sooth the tightening of his throat. And of course, where there was tea brewing. Wu wasn’t too far away. So it was unsurprising to see Wu enter the room, Kai not too far behind him.

“One for me Pea- Lloyd! Sorry, thought it was Peach’s job to make tea. I always find her in here so-“ Lloyd knew Kai’s words had no actual intent behind them but they angered him nonetheless. The aftermath of their conversation and her distress left his feelings of protectiveness and guilt in not defending her sooner to flare up at the actual harmless jest.

“Get out, I need to speak to Sensei.” Lloyd told him and the fire ninja raised his hands in faux surrender.

“Jeez, didn’t mean to catch you at a bad time.” Kai said, leaving the room with a calm expression on his face.

“I assume the harsh demand to your brother has some sort of purpose behind it.” Wu told him and Lloyd sighed. “You seem distracted, dear nephew. Care to tell me what troubles you?”

“Y/- Peach… she’s struggling and I didn’t even notice until she told me earlier.” Lloyd told his uncle who nodded. “She doesn’t feel safe and- and I want her to feel safe- I do! She doesn’t want to ever leave me and I can’t even think about leaving her without…. I just want to make her feel like she’s safe again, like she’s secure. I want her to know I can provide that and that she can depend on me as Lloyd. Not just depend on me protecting her as the green ninja.” Lloyd finished and his uncle nodded, looking a little taken aback.

“That’s a lot of pressure for a relationship that’s only been active for such a short period.” Wu told him and he nodded.

“I know, I’m just looking for advice or to rant- I don’t know. I tried mediating with Peach but it just sent her to sleep… she’s that tired.” Lloyd added and Wu nodded.

“You want her to feel emotionally secure with Lloyd, not just physically safe?” Wu asked and Lloyd nodded.

“I think that’s what I’m saying.” Lloyd agreed and Wu stroked his beard.

“Well, can you think of a time that she fully trusted you before she knew of your gi? A time where she put all her faith into you, to guide her and to keep her safe. An intimate moment, that perhaps she had only shared with you.” Wu asked and Lloyd paused, racking his brain for a moment.

“I just felt vulnerable, I felt safe. I haven’t felt like that since I can remember.”

“Yes.” Lloyd told his uncle who smiled back at him.

“Then you know what you must do to make her feel content again.” Wu told his nephew.

“You make me feel safe, content even. I’ve never had that before.”

Lloyd didn’t know much, but he had an idea. And it involved kicking every one of his teammates and elders off this ship.

🪺. *. ⋆

🔞 mature and sexual themes ahead. Please skip to the next part if you don’t want to read this, none of the storyline will be missed.

When I woke up again, it was dark and I sat up quickly. What was I thinking?! I needed to get back to the lighthouse as quickly as possible! It was too dangerous to be alone on this ship in the dark with that thing out here! I needed to find someone else as quick as possible and tell them we needed to leave- I-

“Easy, baby.” I heard a familiar voice from the foot of the doorway and turned to see Lloyd. I sighed in relief, and swung my legs over the bedside.

“What’s going on? Shouldn’t we be in the lighthouse?” I asked and he chucked before moving over towards me.

“No, everyone else is up there but we’re going to stay here tonight.” Lloyd told me and I frowned.

“Isn’t that too dange-“ I got cut off by Lloyd gently resting a hand against my check and softly grazing his thumb over my skin.

“We’re okay.” He assured, leaning down until he was eye level with me. “You’re okay.” He reassured and I nodded. It felt unusually warm between us. And intimate.

“So we’re all alone? The whole ship just do ourselves?” I asked and Lloyd nodded with a smile. “What are we gonna do?” I asked, teasingly and Lloyd smirked before pressing a small kiss to my lips leaving my cheeks to warm. He took a moment to look over me with such an adoring look in his eyes it made me smile.

“You’re so beautiful, Peaches.” He told me and I giggled.

“Seriously, Lloyd.” I said, my unfaltering grin not helping to showcase my said seriousness. “What are we doing?” I asked and he put his other hand on my other cheek so he was holding my face. He let a thumb drift down and light pull my bottom lip down.

Oh.

Now I got what we were going to do.

“First I’m going to show you how much you fucking mean to me, Y/n.” Lloyd declared with such a fire in his eyes. “Then I’m going to take control- just how you like.” Lloyd fold me and I felt myself begin to heat up immediately.

“Really?” I asked and Lloyd nodded.

“If that’s what you want?” He asked and I nodded.

“Yes. I want that. I want you.” I told him and he smirked. “But, are you okay with that?” I asked and he gave me a weird look. “I know you feel like you’re going to hurt me whenever we do this and I- I don’t want you to-“ he cut me off by lightly shushing me.

“Don’t worry about me, baby.” He told me, his voice lowering to a whisper. “This is all about you… I’m going to make you feel safe again.” Lloyd told me and I smiled.

“You don’t have to do this.” I told him and he smiled.

“Of course I do. I want to.” He said and I felt my heart warm.

“And it’s just us?” I questioned and he nodded. “Come here then.” I told him and I tried to pull his face towards me but he backed off. I frowned but he only winked. I watched as Lloyd stood with a confused expression but he only smirked.

“You’re going to take my gi off first.” He told me and my eyebrows raised in surprise.

His gi was an intricate piece of fabric. It had so many buckles and belts and things that overlapped that the new given task actually seemed a little daunting. Even so I rose from the bed and slowly made my way over, I looked up at him when I got close enough and he grinned once again.

“I’ll give you a hint.” Lloyd said taking my hand and putting on the main belt of his gi. “You start here.” He told me and I smiled.

The belt came off easily. The other buckles needed loosening and altogether it came off a lot easier than it looked. I was thankful for that at least. Lloyd kicked the gi off to the side and ripped his undershirt off quickly before leaning down to kiss and suck on my neck, particularly around the bite that was still awfully sensitive at times.

“Try not to leave too many marks.” I told him. “I don’t want your team to have more to say than they already-“ My sentence was cut off by my own gasp as I was hoisted up, forcing my legs to wrap around his waist.

“Let them talk.” Lloyd told me. “We’re different to them. We don’t just fuck for pleasure. It’s so much more.” Lloyd told me and I nodded before letting him connect our lips together in a way that really showed the passion we held for each other.

“I need you, Lloyd.” I confessed. “I actually need you. Not just to get me off but as a whole. You’re right, what we feel for each other is not just want. It’s a need.” I told him and that seemed to ignite something inside him as he suddenly dropped me on the bed.

“Strip.” He told me. “All the way. I want to be able to love every part of you.” Lloyd told me and if he wasn’t so distracted getting his own boxers off he would’ve seen the way I paused at that word.

Love?

My thoughts were cut short by my own trousers getting pulled off with such a force it made my whole body get dragged down the bed and I surprised laugh to leave my mouth.

“Not quick enough, Peaches.” Lloyd told me and I laughed.

“Okay, okay!” I laughed before unclipping my bra and throwing it at him as he laughed and caught it. “You hurry up! I’m getting cold!” I told him and he raised an eyebrow.

“You’ve still got something on.” He told me, referring to my underwear.

“I thought you would want to take those off.” I told him and he chuckled.

Lloyd’s infatuation with eating me out wasn’t an unwelcome kink but he sure was getting better at it each time. It seemed each time he got me to cum quicker and quicker and he wasn’t afraid to lick, smell, taste all of it. I’m sure there was more salvia over my bare clit than anything I naturally released. I was sure he had some sort of oral fixation, not that I minded. I’m sure I did too with how I begged to suck him off not even moments later.

“I’m going to give you a choice. You can only pick one.” Lloyd told me and I frowned up at him from my place in between his legs, I let my face rest on his thigh as he stroked my hair. I looked up to meet his eyes and he smiled down at me. I hummed in acknowledgement and he continued. “You can either suck me off and stay there or you can come back up here and once we’re done, you can keep me in.”

Lloyd was letting me cockwarm him either with my mouth or my legs.

“Can’t I do both?” I asked and he chuckled.

“No, baby.” He told me and I closed my eyes for a moment.

“Will you bite me again?” I asked and he frowned.

“Did you like it?” He asked and I nodded. “I won’t bite you how I did before but I can still bite if you want.” Lloyd said and I went back to thinking. My mind went all jumbled whenever I was in this position.

“What do you want?” I asked and he shook his head.

“It’s your decision.” He told me and I stared at the cock right by my face. It was going in me either way, it was just which entrance did I want it in.

I licked a stripe up the base quickly and he groaned before I started kissing and sucking all the way up. It wasn’t until I felt my own teeth lightly graze his skin did I feel Lloyd’s hand grip my hair tightly and I wasn’t ashamed to admit the moan I let out.

“Teeth, Y/n.” He told me. “I won’t warn you again, baby.” Lloyd told me and I nodded and he loosened his grip slightly to let me move more.

I didn’t take him in my mouth though, I just watched as he became harder and harder until I backed up. He gave me a stern look when I did so which made me heat up more than before.

I didn’t even utter a word as I clambered up on his lap, his eyes followed mine the whole time. I lifted my hips a little higher and he seemed to get the memo. He pushed two fingers in at once and I hissed a little before he shushed me quietly and began to work on loosening me up once again as he had done so with his tongue not long before. When I felt my knees slowly staring to give out, that when I felt his fingers be removed and instead his tip was pushing into me, slowly and it felt so much more intimate than usual. I love this. I love-

I love….

Love.

“Lloyd.” I breathed out as he lifted us up and placed me down on my back. I couldn’t believe it. Love. That’s such a strong word. Love.

When was the last time I had said I loved someone?! Or someone had told me it?! And- and I hadn’t even known Lloyd for two months. How could I love someone this soon? How did I give myself to someone I had only been dating for two weeks? How could I rush so easily to get on a flying ship and embark on a mission to fulfil a prophecy for someone I had known less than 2 months and- and…

Lloyd leaned down to press his lips to my forehead and my thoughts seemed to stop. Whatever whirlwind my mind was currently stuck in seemed to dissipate. Lloyd wasn’t just anyone. We weren’t normal teenagers adjusting to our first real relationship. Lloyd was right. We are different.

Lloyd was the Green Ninja. Fate had carved his path long before he was born.

I wasn’t normal either. Fate wouldn’t dare disclose my path to me but I knew it wouldn’t let me live a normal life.

With a new surge of passion I pushed myself up and crashed my lips against him in a messy kiss. Lloyd pushed me back down and continued the kiss whilst still thrusting his hips into mine wildly.

“I need you. I need you so badly.” Maybe need was just a replacement for the other word I really wanted to say. Maybe.

And with both of us spent and the oh so familiar warmth locked deep inside me by Lloyd’s unmoving figure. I felt safe. I felt secure and I felt as if I had everything even in the time when I had lost everyone. Because I had him. So I played with Lloyd’s blonde loose curls until I heard little snores against my bare chest.

This was where I was supposed to be. And where I would stay.

[k1ng0fn0b0dy]

💜 DAY 8 OF MONSTER WEEK [HALLOWEEN] — GHOST TUBBO

[1800+ words]

[Gender-neutral]

Description: You go Ghost hunting and end up meeting a traumatized ghost.

[Read the rest under the cut]

"This is so creepy," You murmur, slowly trailing the light of your flashlight across the dull, stone walls. The buildings, ruins of some old castle, were horror movie material. It made it really popular a while back when a few Ghost hunters filmed an episode focusing on its apparent haunting.

You're sure it's all just babble meant to sell more tourist traps and attract ghost nuts. That's the only reason you accept your friends' dare to explore the place but now that you're actually here, you're regretting that decision a bit.

A loud gust of wind shakes the windows and you bite your tongue, trying to shake off your nerves. There were probably other people inside as well, so at the very least you're not alone.

You tug at one of the many doors, though this one is distinctly unique in that the locked bolt is on the outside. You tug at the rusty bolt and it snaps off instantly. Guilty, you drop it to the floor, looking around for witnesses. No one's around though so you kick the bolt far, far away. No evidence.

Of course, you've already unlocked it You strain yourself for almost a minute trying to pry the door open but even unlocked, it's almost glued shut. You turn to walk away when a quiet 'creeeak' comes from behind.

You whirl around, hands trembling. The door is wide open now, framing a desolate and dark room, enveloped in thick shadows. You fumble with your flashlight and it falls to the floor, rolling about a foot away from you and right in front of the now-unlocked door.

You slowly step forward, squatting down to pick up the flashlight without taking your eyes off the door and its tempting entrance.

You know there are other people in the castle, you broke in easily enough so you know entering wouldn't be a problem for others. Knowing this, you jump to thinking it's someone pulling your leg, hoping that's all there is to it. But there's a sinking in your stomach, tossing and turning and thinking that maybe, just maybe, this isn't a prank but something else. Something otherworldly.

You tighten your hold on your flashlight, just in case, and step through the door. You're swept by a wave of chills instantly, though all the windows in this particular room are clamped shut and sealed like they were trying to keep something trapped inside.

You walk towards the bed that's oddly enough set in the exact middle of the room. You scan the flashlight across the room, realizing distantly how the furniture makes the room look like a dungeon. It's all muted colours, dusty beyond belief. You think back to the rusty bolt you snapped off and realize that no one's entered the room in what's probably been decades.

You walk around the bed to see the other side of the room when you spot marks against the floor. You stifle a gasp by biting your tongue, staring at the marks with wide eyes. You trace the marks leading from 4 spots, 2 against a wall and another 2 evenly spaced in front of them, scratched into long lines leading towards the bed. Your brows furrow as you realize the marks are from someone pushing the bed into the middle of the room. Weird.

You don't have to worry about it for long because you're immediately faced with an even worse issue. The door shuts and you instantly run towards it. "Fuck,"

You're so screwed, so so screwed. The door isn't opening no matter how much you push and shove. You know it's not locked, you had broken that before entering, but it feels like someone barricaded it with ten tons, impossible to push or even make budge.

You get goosebumps instantly, a burning chill spreading behind your back, feeling like someone standing, pressed behind you. You whirl around and there is nothing, no one. You cast the light of your flashlight across the room rapidly and your heart leaps to your throat when you double-take to a slumbering figure on the bed. The bed you were previously standing next to. The (previously) empty one.

it's made of different shades of white, casting the room in a moody glow. You're entranced by the beauty of the sleeping figure, feeling your nerves settling just by looking at the peaceful face of the slumbering teen. You take a step towards them, feeling out of control of your own body. You keep walking in a trance until you're a step away from the bed, close enough to see the muted shades of colour.

You lean towards them, just to admire them. It's an instinct, the same way a baby cries when they're hungry. You want to know how it feels to sleep so peacefully. You want to sleep long enough to know how it feels when your bones turn to ash…

Their eyes fly open and you're instantly shot back into your body, falling back onto your butt, trembling. Their skin is more pigmented now, flushed with energy in the same way that yours is now pale like someone applied a white overlay to it. You don't know where your flashlight is so you stumble to your feet and almost trip over a table trying to find the door.

"You look fucking stupid," It giggles like your panic is amusing. They admire their skin, which is still glowing radiantly, but it's stronger now. If you could describe it you'd say that earlier it was a dying ember and now it's a strong flame. "I took a bit too much energy from you, sorry for that."

It stretches leisurely, "Though if I hadn't stopped you, you would've lost your soul so really you should thank me."

You finally find the door but it's still locked. You push at it, putting all your weight behind it. Your knees go weak and you almost fall to the floor, exhausted and panting.

"That's not going to work," It watches you, frowning. It shakes it's head when you push yourself to stand taller, sighing when you try slamming the door open and failing. "You should stop trying, you're only going to fail."

"What do you want," You cry out, feeling drained both mentally and emotionally, not to mention psychically. Though you do have that fucking ghost to blame for that last one. "Why won't you let me leave."

Its face twists at your words like the word is revolting, though it's overshadowed by the raw sadness dragging its otherworldly beauty down. "We can't leave. The door has to stay shut. It has to stay shut."

"it was open earlier," You stutter as their eyes settle on you, full of more emotions than just the amusement you saw earlier. "How do you think I got in?"

Its face is full of despair as they stare at the door, anxiously pressing itself into one of the bedposts. "No one saw you enter. No one heard the door close. If they did…" They look back to you, "Where were they, why didn't they stop you? Maybe… Maybe this is a trick."

"What trick," You find the energy to stand again, staring them down. "Why can't we open the door."

"You're trying to get me to open the door so I get in trouble again," They murmur anxiously, their skin pulsing with vibrant, human colours. "I can't leave, I can't leave, never again."

"No one's waiting out there to hurt you," You drop your tone to a low, soothing hush, "I just want to go home. Please just let me open the door."

"It's not me," They whispher, "It's the maids. They've locked me in here again. We can't leave until they say so. We can't leave or they'll hurt us. They're only pretending to be gone, they tricked both of us."

You almost scream in frustration. None of your words are getting through to him. Instead, you slowly walk over, "No one is out there, I checked. The only person keeping you trapped here is you. We can leave."

"What?" They scan your face, hands trembling. You're standing next to the bed and you hesitantly offer your hand. They stare at it for a second, their voice comes out a whisper, "Are you sure?"

When you nod, he sets his hand into yours. They don't really step onto the floor, their feet are more whisphy, but he's on the same level as you now. He stares at the door, face still haunted, so you take the first step towards it.

He trails after you, still holding your hand. When your hand wraps around the handle, his breath stops (though you imagine as a ghost it's unneeded). The door slowly pushed open and they squeezed your hand anxiously, eyes darting around the empty, dark hallway. There is no one there though and he is still trembling.

"They could be hiding," They whisper low, setting your hair on edge. They hurriedly tug you back. "They're going to come back, we need to go back inside."

"No," You say firmly and start dragging him along with all your might. You need to leave and evidently, so does this ghost. You turn the corner and it's empty, he seems more anxious at that sight. You turn another corner and then another and then you are standing in an overgrown garden.

The ghost seems mesmerized by the plants, staring at them with an alienated fascination. They let go of your hand to walk towards a flower, hands spreading frost across its petal. He doesn't seem to know how much strength to hold it with and he rips a petal off. He tries again, smoothing the petal between his fingers. It looks ice cold now but he is smiling brightly, skin back to a softer, pastel light.

"No one is here anymore," He mutters to you, entranced by the flowers the same way you were entranced by him earlier. He looks up at you, "I never asked your name, did I?"

"I'm Y/N," You say softly, taking one of the fallen petals into your hand. As you had thought, it is cold but it is also beautiful. Memorialized in the ice, almost. "I didn't ask your name either."

"Oh," They look over to the plants again, "I've never… I'm Tubbo. I'm the- I was the prince. I think I'm dead now."

"Yeah," You nod. "I think it sucks you were trapped in that room for so long."

"It did suck," He takes a deep breath in, "But I don't have to go back now. My father, King Schlatt, hated me. He hated even looking at me. I wasn't allowed to leave my room. It got so lonely and now… I don't know now."

"Now you're free." You take his hand and put the frozen petal on his palm. He looks back up at you, starry-eyed. "You can go anywhere. You don't have to be alone anymore."

"Can I come with you," He says breathily, excited. "I've always wanted to see the kingdom. I've only read books. How much has changed?"

You can't help but laugh, "Okay. I guess I've got a ghost buddy now."

{《☆》}

[This wasn't supposed to be this long or depressing ngl but i love a good angsty backstory. Anyways lore time, TW FOR THIS SECTIONS!!! Tubbo is a dead prince who as we find out had been hated by his father, king Schlatt and basically exiled to a separate wing of the palace. He is locked in his room most of the time and has been traumatized repeatedly whenever he leaves, usually by the guard and maids who lock him in there. After the palace got destroyed by rioters, Tubbo died of starvation in his room and came back as a ghost due to the traumatic experiences he faced. He still doesn't leave the room though because he's afraid of being hurt again and still believes he's being locked in there as punishment until you help him through that.]

[Anyways the next two posts will be spread out over the next day because I was too ambitious in my planning but rest assured, I will post them even if they're a bit late.]

[L0v3 k1ng]

Masterlist

Prompt List

Taglist: @creatorofstars

[ticklefits]

OOoh, how about a ficlet / dabble with Kirishima and Bakugou with prompt # 8, if you want? :D

30 tickle prompts | kiribaku | #8: "Don't you dare." | @just-open-the-fridge-yo ♡

☆ ☆ ☆

slowly, but certainly, kirishima is beginning to see just how important his quirk is for the type of hero he wants to be. he is a shield; a pillar of strength and protection to those around him and with his hardening quirk, he's able to take on the worst of the worst and still come out the the other side swinging. it's this quirk that first caught bakugou's eye when he saw it in action and when kirishima displayed that power, proven time and time again his stalwart determination and drive to take on anything and everything in order to help others, bakugou knew this kid was going to be a mighty hero. a hero worth keeping his sights on.

but, there are cons to kirishima's quirk, the same as all quirks. the biggest flaw of it is one he's kept a secret ever since he realized it, and so far, the only person he's revealed it to is bakugou. it's times like that that kirishima is so grateful for bakugou being the extremely private person that he is, because he knows his boyfriend isn't a blabbermouth like SOME people ( mina and denki ) and the secrets shared between them are always locked safe. but that doesn't mean that, sometimes, when an opportunity presents itself, bakugou doesn't jump at the chance to take advantage of that specific flaw.

like right now, while he's got kirishima trapped underneath him on his bed, almost smothering him with the weight of his body ( bakugou's muscular, but still pretty slender, so it's not as if it's too much of an issue, especially considering that kirishima is just a little bit bigger than him ) and the redhead suffers a visceral twitch when bakugou's fingers absentmindedly stroke along his sides while the other hand scrolls along his phone. he hopes to god that bakugou didn't see that reaction, but bakugou sees everything because he's bakugou, and the way those stupid, pretty cardinal eyes of his look up at kirishima and just stare. in the same breath, the corners of his stupid, pretty lips perk and kirishima's entire stomach drops into his legs.

"katsuki," the sturdy hero warns, but bakugou is completely, obviously, unphased.

"y'know, i'm kinda surprised at myself for not noticing this shit sooner, eijirou." he bites back, playful, soft, all too smug for kirishima's liking.

"mhm, mhm - dunno what you're talking about." kirishima has never been a talented liar, something he hasn't ever necessarily needed to be good at, besides in situations like this.

"oh yeah? that's weird, cause i coulda sworn you told me a few weeks ago about how stupid fuckin' hypersensitive you are as a backlash to using your quirk so much."

kirishima swallows in a dry throat and nearly chokes.

bakugou grins, setting his phone down to the side of the bed in order to regain use of both hands, which plant themselves gently against kirishima's sides. the little jump under his fingertips causes bakugou's heart to flutter, his boyfriend is so damn cute.

a shade of red to match his hair paints over the skin of kirishima's cheeks, worrying his bottom lip into his mouth to fight off the smile that's spreading across his lips, knowing damn well it's only going to encourage bakugou to go on ( as if he doesn't totally want it too ).

"don't you dare." he releases a final warning, much too lighthearted and on the verge of a giggle to be taken seriously.

bakugou's eyes widen and he shoots kirishima an incredulous look - one that absolutely says who the hell do you think you're talking to right now? he doesn't even need to say anything, because his expression tells it all, and he gives kirishima not an ounce of mercy for his insolence when he digs his waiting fingers into his sides.

the reaction is instantaneous; boundless, raspy, and delighted laughter pouring from kirishima's grinning, wide open mouth. he kicks at the blanket underneath him, hands shoving at bakugou's shoulders with barely any strength to it, because they both know he has no desire to escape.

"wahahAHAIT-! waitwaitwaHAHAHA-! KAHAHATSUKIHIHI!" kirishima howls, the entirety of his visage flushing that beautiful red.

"nah, no way, i wanna know who you thought you were orderin' around two seconds ago." he taunts him, flaunting that murderous grin he likes to wear, that kirishima loves to see even when it's focused on him, his fingers already beginning to travel towards his stomach, but not without hitting all the best landmarks along the way first, the secret little areas on his sides and ribs that make kirishima snort or squeak.

"plEHEHEASE! NOHOHO- CRAHAHAP, I'M SOHOHORRY―!" he has nothing to apologize for, he knows this, but he also knows that bakugou tends to show a tiny bit more mercy when you just tell him what he wants to hear.

unfortunately for kirishima, it isn't an apology bakugou's after, not after basking in his damn adorable glee. he wants to make kirishima squeal.

which, as soon as he finally moves his ticklish assault to his boyfriend's stomach, digging and scribbling into the softer parts of his waist, he's rewarded with just that. kirishima's squirming kicks up a notch as well, bucking hard enough that bakugou has to reposition himself after being shifted all askew.

"bAHAHABY― BAHAHAHABY, NO MOHOHOHORE!" aw, shit. bakugou's face joins kirishima's in color, as it is annoyingly want to do whenever he hears kirishima call him baby. there's just something so tender and fuzzy about it coming from the redhead, like he fills every single syllable with as much love as his enormous heart can muster and it makes bakugou want to do anything and everything he asks of him.

so, as much as bakugou wants to continue and further reduce the love of his life into a blushing, tomato red pile of laughter, his fingers do finally begin to slow their movements to a full halt, simply resting against the clothed skin. kirishima's loud mirth dies down rto bubbly little giggles and he fully melts into the mattress underneath them, pliant and tired and delighted.

bakugou's eyes roll but there's a fondness sewn into it, moving to plop right on top of kirishima, the cheeky little shit, who responds with a groan and a chuckle of "ohohoof.. mercy, katsuki, im still in the recovery stage."

"oh whatever, you were totally asking for it." but he hides a grin behind his arm, only peeking out at the corners, just for kirishima.

"we'll see who's asking for it for next time," kirishima teases and relishes in the temporary flash of anticipation that twinkled in bakugou's eyes. "you're lucky i love you so much."

the blond exposes his smile then, crooked and warm, because how could he not be when he's with kirishima? in a voice softer than before, he answers, " ― love you too."

[dreamingofaizawa]

Potent

Alpha! Hanta Sero x Fem! Omega! Reader

***18+ Fic***

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

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

Word Count: 3.6 k

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

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

Anywho, enjoy~

*

*

*

It had to happen when you were surrounded by alphas.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course I do. I love you, Hanta.”

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

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

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

You’re in for a wonderfully long night.

[reidgraygubler]

caught in the nets (spencer reid/reader)

Title: caught in the nets

Requested: no

Couple: spencer reid/fem!reader

Category: smut, fluff

Content Warning: SEXUAL CONTENT (penetrive sex, unsafe sex, public sex (public bathroom), fingering, handjob, grinding, groping, heavy petting, fucking with fishnets on, tipsy sex, possessive), hand on jaw/neck (no pressure), swearing, drinking, mentions of a gun, mentions of casework, friends to lovers

Word Count: 3,944

Summary: Spencer loves what reader is wearing while out at a bar with the team

A/N: hi guys, gals, and non-binary pals! Here’s another thing i wrote. this is another thing I was super excited to write. AND I wrote it for one of my bestest friends @spencer-reid-in-a-pool for pom’s server fic swap. I wrote it in literally two days bc I had a week to write it. But it does have a prompt and a few other things she likes in it! also quick shout out to @newportonmymind for proofreading this!! i really appreciate you! I really hope you guys enjoy this piece! Thank you all so much for the love and support! I appreciate it and you! Check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{***}

Rough cases will always be the worst. Sometimes they felt hopeless, like we weren’t able to figure out how to save a victim. In the end we were able to save the victim and arrest the unsub. But it was still rough.

So drinks were a must when it came to the end of rough cases. I know it’s a bad thing to turn to drinking in a rough time. But sometimes nothing helped more than a drink. It was easier to relax with a little liquor in your system. Well, it was easier for me to relax with a little liquor. I couldn’t say about the rest of the team.

I was the one who offered up the idea of going to a bar when we returned home. I just needed a little something to help me unwind. Luke, Penelope and Tara were the next to say they’d be coming. After some light convincing, Emily, JJ, and Matt agreed. David was quick to leave before we could get to him about it.

Which left Spencer. At first he put up a fight, arguing that he had to go home. Home to what? We have the same situation. Eventually Penelope wore him down and got him to go.

“Okay, I’ll meet you guys there. I need to change out of these clothes.” I looked down at the business attire I had worn on the plane. I really wished I had changed out of them too, and into something more comfortable.

“Sounds good, Sweetness! See you in a bit.” Penelope looked at me with a smile. I returned the smile before collecting my things from my desk, and leaving.

Part of me wanted to wear a sweatshirt and sweatpants. But I also wanted to wear jeans and a tee-shirt, just to be comfortable. I also wanted to wear something more… party like. Mostly because we’re going to a bar, where there were going to be lots of people. Mmm…

I went with the latter. My outfit ended up consisting of a plain black top, paired with short-shorts and a “comfortable” pair of heels. Under the shorts I wore one of my favorite clothing items, a pair of black fishnets. They were one of my favorite things because I always gained the attention of someone. And I usually enjoyed that attention. I just don’t know whose attention I wanted.

Once I was satisfied with how I looked, I grabbed my bag and left for the bar. I was the first to leave the BAU, but the last to show up to the bar. Even Spencer was there before me, which was a rarity.

“Hey sorry I’m late. Traffic was nuts… And I just wanted to look nice,” I laughed nervously as I looked down before sitting beside Penelope. Everyone’s eyes were on me, and I tried to avoid the feeling of the stares. At first I tried to not be self-conscious, after all I was the one who wanted to dress a little more… sexy and get the attention of others.

“What are you wearing?” Luke asked after he took a sip of his beer. I looked down at my attire and shrugged.

“Wanted someone’s attention. Figured I’d get it here.” I gestured around the room towards the many groups of people. “Already got yours, Lukey-poo,” I cooed as I looked at him. He looked back at me with a weird look in his eyes. “Where’s Spence?”

“He went to get a drink.” JJ nodded towards the bar before sipping her drink. I looked over my shoulder and towards the bar. My eyes quickly identified the lanky and awkward body of Spencer standing beside the bar as he waited for a drink.

“Has the bartender been flirting with him the whole time?” I looked back at the team with wide eyes. Tara looked over at JJ with a smug smile before nodding. “No ones gonna save him?” “Figured we’d give him a try first.” Matt shrugged as he looked back at me. I let out a mildly annoyed sigh before standing up.

“Where are you going?” Emily asked as she looked at me. I smiled as her eyes very slowly lingered down my body. There was an obvious struggle, and I liked that. I was definitely getting the attention I craved tonight. Even though it’s from my superior.

“Gonna go save boy wonder from inevitable embarrassment that he will probably succumb to.” I rested my hand on the table as I looked at the team. JJ and Emily shared a knowing glance. “And I’m getting myself a drink.” I shrugged before shoving my hands in my small pockets and walked towards the bar and Spencer.

“Hey Spence!” I exclaimed as I looked at him. He looked away from the bartender and smiled. His smile, however, quickly melted away and a hungry look took over his eyes.

“H-hey,” he mumbled before looking back at the bartender. She looked between me and Spencer before muttering a few profanities and walking away. I smirked before taking the space up beside Spencer.

“You seeing something you like, Reid?” I asked as soon as I noticed him staring at me again. I leaned over the bar beside him and smiled.

“I.. Uh, I…” He cleared his throat before looking away from me and down at the counter. Well, maybe I did know whose attention I wanted…

“Anyways, I’ve come to save you.”

“Save me?”

“The bartender…” I whispered before nodding in her direction. Spencer looked down at her and we both caught her looking between us before dropping her gaze.

“The bartender?”

“Just get your drink and come on,” I laughed before standing up and away from the counter. Spencer looked back at me with a raised eyebrow. He was obviously confused as to what I was talking about. But I’ll honestly save him the embarrassment. “Oh, wait. I want a drink too!” I exclaimed as I leaned over the counter.

Once we both had our drinks, I silently led him back to the table. I enjoyed the feeling of people’s eyes on me as I walked by them. I could even sense Spencer staring at me. To be fair, my shorts were a little on the shorter side…

Maybe the attention I was getting was from the person I wanted it from the most…

Spencer and I returned to the table, and we were quick to join into whatever conversation they were having. The entertaining stories that Matt told about his kids made everyone go into a fit of laughter.

The laughter only grew the more drinks that everyone had consumed. We weren’t exactly drunk, well some of us weren’t drunk. But when someone in the bar orders a round of drinks for the table, it’s hard to say no.

JJ, Spencer and Matt were the only ‘mostly sober’ ones. Followed by Tara and me being tipsy, but sober enough to know what was happening. Penelope, Luke and Emily had enough to drink and had left the table to go dance with each other and random people in the bar.

“I wanna dance,” I muttered as I looked down at the table. Matt cleared his throat, causing me to look up at him. He was nodding a Spencer, who was looking around the room at all the other people. A small smile grew across my lips before I jumped from my seat. Spencer and JJ both looked at me with shock on their faces.

I looked right at Spencer and smiled. “You.” I pointed at him. “Me.” Then I pointed at myself. “We’re dancing,” I spoke as I jerked my thumb behind me. Spencer’s face fell slightly as he watched me walk to stand in front of him. I smiled as his eyes lingered on my body for a brief moment before landing on my face. “Come on. Let’s leave mom and dad alone.” I lifted a hand for him to take. He looked at it for a moment before hesitantly placing his hand into mine.

Once he stood, I dragged him over to the dance floor, where we both stood still. I didn’t know what was going through his head, but I wished I did. His body wasn’t tense, in fact I could tell he liked that I was being daring and the close proximity I was in.

We, and by we I mean me, hardly danced. It was mostly just me. And my dance moves consisted of me grinding on him. Which seemed to rile him up enough to entertain me. I enjoyed it more when he rested his hands on my hips and held me in front of him.

I looked around the room at all the people, watching as they continued dancing with their friends and people. Then I looked back at Spencer before grabbing his hand. His once hazel eyes were blown out black and a look of hunger and lust was settled in them. He looked like he knew what he wanted, and he was about to do anything in his power to get it too.

I looked away from him and around the room, again, looking for a familiar face. It wasn’t that I needed someone to save me from this moment. No. I needed to make sure none of our friends saw what I was about to do next.

I turned to face Spencer again and pressed my chest to his. He placed his hands on my hips and pulled them flush against his. The breath was knocked from my lungs when I felt how hard he was through his slacks and my shorts.

I grabbed his wrist and turned away from him before dragging him out of the bar and towards the bathrooms. He didn’t say anything when I pulled him into the women’s bathroom and into a stall. I’ll forever be grateful for that too because I don’t know where else we would go to.

I pulled him into a stall and locked it before pushing him against the door. His lips quickly attached to mine, and before I knew it his teeth grazed across my lower lip. And just like before, when we were out in the bar, his hands fell back to my hips and he pulled me against him. He rolled his hips to mine, pressing his bulge into my body.

“I can’t believe you,” Spencer groaned against my mouth. I looked up at him and smirked. “Why’s that? What makes me so unbelievable?” I whispered as I pressed a hand to his front. Spencer’s body froze and a hiss came from his lips.

“You coming to this bar, dressed like that, acting like you own the place,” his voice was low as he spoke. I smiled before I looked for his belt. “Acting like you aren’t arousing every man-- and woman-- here. That’s right, I saw the way Emily looked at you,” he continued as he looked at me.

“I just wanted attention from someone. But I’m sure happy that it’s your attention that I’m getting, Spencer,” I whispered before I pressed my hips against his.

“Well… I don’t think you’ll be getting attention from anyone else other than mine from now on.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re mine now, Sweetness,” he mildly mocked the pet name Penelope had given me earlier today. I stared at him, my breathing growing shallow. “And no one else’s.” Goosebumps grew like fire across my skin once I realized the honesty and reality of his words. Or, well, I should say his possessiveness. At first I wasn’t sure if I wanted or believed what he said, but a moment passed and I realized… I wanted it so bad.

We both fell into a silent stare down. My hands, however, kept busy as they looked for his belt. But then a smirk grew across my lips the second I realized he still had a hard on waiting for me.

I was quick as I tried undoing his belt buckle, hoping he wouldn’t notice. But he obviously did when I began struggling and fumbling for a moment.

“Is that a gun or are you just happy to see me, Reid?” I whispered as I carefully slipped my hand into his pants and briefs. My question was otherwise rhetorical. I knew for a fact it was a gun. But I also knew it wasn’t a gun.

Spencer took a deep breath of air once my hand was wrapped around his length. I smiled as I slowly moved my hand back and forth, gently applying pressure.

“It’s a gun,” Spencer returned, keeping his voice low, “But I’m more than happy to see you. Trust me.” I could tell he was trying to be sly with his words. Because when he started talking his voice was deep and a little rough, but as he continued on talking, they got a little shaky and a little bit higher. I wanted to mock him, but I knew better than to do that.

“Oh… I do,” I whispered as I quickened my pace. My lips were hovering over his. His breath fanned across my face, and I could just barely smell the gin and tonic he had drank earlier.

My heart was beating hard in my chest because I was about to fuck my co-worker in the bathroom at fucking bar. I wondered if his was doing the same thing. I wondered if his thought process was the same as mine too.

I also wondered if he felt the same way. Maybe I’ve always wanted the attention from Spencer. He was right there, and always has been, and always will be. Plus we’ve known each other for years. So what’s the harm? Maybe he felt the same?

The grip Spencer held on my hips started to tighten as I continued to stroke his length. I could feel his tension growing the longer I went. My lips slowly curled at the corners as I realized how much I was going to enjoy this.

Then it happened. Spencer flipped our positions so I was pressed against the door. Both of my wrists were in one of his hands, held above my head. His other hand was already messing with the button of my shorts.

“You think you’re the only one who can do that, Sweetness,” he whispered before pressing his lips to my neck. It was his turn to grind his hips against mine, easily taking my breath away again.

“Spence…” I gasped once his hand was finally down the front of my shorts. I tried hard to pull my hands from his hand, but his grip only tightened.

“See, two can play at this game,” he spoke softly as he swiped a finger up my slit. I bit my lips together as he gently moved his finger around the sensitive nub between my thighs. “But unlike you I’m going to let you finish.”

“I was go-oh…” I whimpered as my knees buckled down causing my hips to grind on his hand. He smiled before carefully pushing a finger into my entrance. It was suddenly hard to concentrate as he curled his fingers just right.

“That’s what I thought,” Spencer murmured against my ear before moving his mouth to the corner of my mouth, then to my neck. A small moan fell from my mouth as he sucked a spot onto the base of my neck.

I stayed silent as Spencer continued whispering dirty things in my ear. Part of me almost forgot who I was with. Not because of what was happening, but because of what he was saying. I had no clue Spencer could say such dirty things. My train of thought was all over the place, derailing the moment I would gain a coherent thought.

Once I did eventually finish on his fingers, he pulled his hand from my shorts and looked down at me. It was a silent moment of a stare down. I was quiet because I was sure of what was about to happen. I was about to fuck Spencer Reid. I was willing to bet Spencer was calculating how long the events of everything would take. I didn’t care, I just wanted it and I wanted it now.

I broke the stare down, looking down at his slacks and the bulge that was still pressing against the fabric. I silently undid the button and zipper and pushed his pants down.

Spencer stopped me before I could do anything else. I looked up at him, my eyes staying on his face as he pushed down my shorts. Then it happened. I was expecting sex to happen like normal. Half naked.

I furrowed my eyebrows when he started getting ready. My tights were still on me properly. He didn’t forget. Man has the best mind in the world. He wouldn’t forget about my tights.

“Wait,” I whispered as I went to pull my tights off, but Spencer stopped me. His hand wrapped around my wrist before he pulled it away. “I gotta take my tights off if we-Oh…”I looked up at him with wide eyes once I realized what he wanted.

“Keep them on,” he whispered so softly I almost didn’t hear him. I nodded lightly. Truth be told, I could see the appeal in it. I did wear the fishnets for a reason. And I knew how I looked in them.

“I can do that.”

Spencer hoisted one of my legs around his waist and pressed my body against the wall. I stared at him, my arms wrapped around his neck to keep me up right. He also helped keep me up by keeping his hands on my hips. Once I was steady, Spencer ripped a hole in the crotch of my tights.

My teeth bit down on my lower lip as he dragged the head of his cock down my pussy. I almost couldn’t handle the way he teased my entrance. I wondered if he could see how frustrated I was starting to get. He’s a profiler. He should just know already how much I needed this.

“I swear to-” ‘God, Spencer.’ My words were cut off with a moan as he pressed into me all at once. It was hard to keep my head up right, and I fought for a moment before finally dropping it to rest on his shoulder. I brought my hand to my mouth and bit down.

Spencer moved a hand around to rest on my bottom. My mouth fell as his hand began massaging my flesh. That, paired with the way he began moving his hips started becoming too much for me.

He looked down at me, sweat beginning to mat down his hair to his forehead. His eyebrows were furrowed together as he picked up his pace. My leg around his waist pulled him closer to me.

“Don’t stop, please, please don’t stop,” I whined as he finally moved closer to me. My body began moving up and down the door. The cloth of my tank top had started riding up, and my hot skin was instantly touching the cool steel door.

Spencer lifted a hand to my head, placing it on the backside before pulling my face to his. His lips pressed everywhere on my face, not one spot was ignored. I pulled my hands away from his neck and grasped his shirt and tie, keeping him in his spot.

“You could’ve worn anything and I still would have wanted to fuck you. Sweatpants and oversized tee-shirt, that pencil skirt you wore back in Oklahoma… But the fishnets really do take the cake.”

“I-I knew someone would like them.” I tried to keep my voice steady. But it was so hard when pressure began growing in my stomach and between my legs.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted this? You here, looking like this,” his voice was almost a growl. My chest began heaving with each word he said and each movement he made. “Too damn long, that’s how long.”

Spencer removed his hand from the back of my head and dropped it to between my legs, resting it high on my thigh. His thumb moved back and forth on my leg, over the material of the fishnets. The look in his eyes drove me wild, and I loved it so, so much.

“Better me than anyone else. I’m not willing to share.” Spencer actually growled as he moved his finger to the crest of my legs. He smiled when I looked up at him with a mildly panicked look in my eyes. “Do you understand why, Sweetness?”

“N-no.”

“As I told you earlier, you’re mine,” he struggled as he tried to hold back a moan.

“Fuck,” I cried as my head dropped back down to his shoulder. I pressed a hand to the wall beside me. I gasped for air as the pressure in my stomach grew to the point of exploding.

“Only I can make you feel like this. You got that, Sweetness?” Spencer groaned, which quickly caused me to nod.

It was impossible to stay quiet as the pressure built up more. The situation was pushed more as soon as Spencer started moaning more into my ear. It was so overwhelming the second he said my name.

And then it happened. I finished before him. But it wasn’t too long after that a familiar warmth spread throughout me.

Spencer dropped his head to my shoulder, and we were both left in panting, breathless messes. My eyes were stuck open as I tried recollecting myself.

“I waited a long time for that too, Spencer,” I whispered, breaking the silence after a few minutes passed. He laughed and nodded.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Of course you do.” I shook my head and pushed his body off mine. He looked down at me with a smirk. “What… What does this mean?”

“Could mean anything. We let things happen naturally, or we pretend nothing happened at all. I’d prefer the former, if I’m going to be honest with you.” He gently lifted a hand and rested it on my face. My nose twitched as soon as I felt something rolling down my thigh. Then my eyes widened.

“N-naturally… Yeah,” I whispered, mostly to myself, as I reached for a wad of toilet paper. I quickly cleaned up the mess that was between my legs and shook my head.

“We should go. Get you properly cleaned.” Spencer spoke up once I was done cleaning myself a bit.

“Well now we gotta go out there and pretend like nothing happened,” I whispered as I looked up at him. Spencer shrugged like it was no big deal. “Where did this sudden cockines come from?”

“When I realized you could have any guy in the bar… And you chose me.” He smiled before wrapping an arm around my waist. I widened my eyes as we exited the bathroom and entered the crowd of people together. People stared at us as we walked by, but I couldn’t tell if it was both of us they were staring at or just me. Spencer’s grip around my waist tightened as he pulled me closer to him. “Remember, Sweetness… I don’t like sharing what’s mine,” his voice was low. My body stiffened once the reality of his words hit me. His.

“Where were you guys?” Emily looked between Spencer and I. I looked at her with wide eyes, my expression telling her (and the rest of the team) everything they needed to know. I’m sure I looked like a hot fucking mess.

“Sweetness here was outside not feeling too well. So I brought her to the bathroom and helped her out a little bit,” Spencer lied with a smile.

Even he knew the lie was useless. But I think everyone would rather believe the obvious lie than rather just know the truth. To be fair, I’d rather tell them all a useless lie rather than the truth. “She still doesn’t feel too well. So I’m going to take her home.”

“Oh! Bummer! I hope you feel better!” Penelope was the first to speak up. I was thankful too that she played along because I really couldn’t handle that embarrassment…

“I will.. Hopefully by morning… I’ve got the best doctor I know taking care of me.” I smiled softly as I looked up at Spencer. He glanced back at me with a smile.

“Have a nice rest of the night.” Spencer nodded to the team before guiding me away from the table and towards the front doors.

“My place or yours?” I looked back at him once we were finally outside and walking towards his car.

“Mine.”

if you want to be a part of a taglist (lmk if ur 18+ for smut) or have any comments about this one-shot, let me know here

taglist: @thebluetint​ @muffin-cup​ @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto​ @spencersmagic @90spumkin​ @jareids​ @broken-stardust​

[mrsbrookegillespie]

⚝The Girl Next Door⚝ Vampire!Luke x Reader (Series)

(Not My Gif)

Vampire!Luke x Reader (My Babysitter’s a Vampire AU)

Description: Set in Season One (After The Movie) Y/N decides to stay around for a little longer for a unknown reason to the gang. With that comes new problems, more supernaturals, and more uncoverings of the secrets that lay hidden beneath her facade, especially when a new girl enters the town.

Warnings: mentions of death, minor violence, and probably typo. Also cringy My Babysitter’s a Vampire talk. Tried to make it like the show in the way I write.

One more thing... It’s long. Because this is the first one of the series I wanted this one to be long, but the other ones will be shorter, unless it’s a thicker plot.

Enjoy!!!

“Look who decided to stay…”

Y/N freezes for a moment. His chilling voice sent her heart pounding against her ribcage. “Could say the same for you.” She turns on her heels rapidly to face him. “New found freedom and here you are in this same small town, at a school that’s quite boring if I’m being honest.” 

Luke tilts this head. His eyes twitch, widening for a moment. “If it was boring there wouldn’t be witches and vampires roaming around. So, who knows what else is lurking around these corners…” He teasingly smiles at Y/N’s dumbfounded expression. “Am I wrong?” 

“No…” she sighs. 

“You’ve seemed to have caught quite a lot of people’s attention.” He side eyes the group of Freshmen boys gawking at her.    

“It seems I have.” She doesn’t bother looking away from Luke. “Luke.” His now yellow eyes fixate on hers. “I hope our previous encounters don’t get to your head.”

“I wish I knew what you were talking about, so please enlighten me.” He crosses his arms, subconsciously leaning towards her. 

“I mean… With me saving you.” 

“You didn’t save me,” he argues. 

A sarcastic laugh interrupts the confrontation between them. “Oh, is that right?” Sarah appears at Y/N’s side. “Because I think if she wasn’t there to rescue you, there would be a wooden stake in your chest right now.” She mimics Luke’s stance, Y/N awkwardly standing there witnessing this endeavorment.

Luke laughs, dryly. “Is that what you think? Well, I think if a pathetic girl--” 

“Right here,” Y/N mumbles.

“--could take you on, I could’ve survived your weak throw.” 

Sarah sucks on her two front teeth. “Come on Y/N, let’s get out of here.” She grabs ahold of Y/N’s arm tugging her away from the boy.

“Little strange that you’re buddying up with the girl who nearly killed you,” he shouts.

Weirded out glances are shot towards him. 

“You just had to save him?” Sarah asks.

“What? Would you rather me save Jesse?” Y/N responds, raising an eyebrow.

“Or how about no one?” 

Y/N huffs. “Think he’s going to be a problem?” She looks back at where Luke and her just were, only to find he’s disappeared. 

“The biggest,” Sarah answers.

“Yeah… Me too.” 

“Hey guys,” Ethan says, walking up to the pair. “What’s up?” 

“Just another lovely conversation with Luke,” Sarah explains. “Would still really love a reason from Ms. Magic over here.” 

Y/N puts her freehand up to mock surrender. “Don’t look at me,” she pauses. “Just doing my job,” she whispers to the point where no one else hears her. “Seen my cousin anywhere?” 

Ethan shakes his head, but it goes distracted when something catches his attention. “Found him.” 

They all turn to see Benny sweet talking to an unfamiliar girl. “Makes sense,” Y/N comments. “Who is that?” Her eyes narrow.

“No clue, never seen her around before,” Ethan informs. 

“She’s pretty.” 

They all jump, startled by Rory’s sudden appearance. “Where did you come from?” Y/N asks, harshly.

“Sorry, not as pretty as you Y/N,” Rory rushes, winking at her. 

She rolls her eyes. Benny and the new girl stopping in front of them. “Guys I want you to meet Clarissa, she’s new, and she actually just moved in next door to us,” he remarks. 

“Hello, Clarissa, I’m Sarah.” 

“Ethan.” 

“Rory.” 

Y/N stares at the girl for a moment. Something didn’t fit right in Y/N’s stomach when staring into her pure green eyes. They were almost too green. “I’m Y/N.” She bounces on the balls of her feet. “Benny’s cousin,” she adds.

Clarissa grabs Y/N’s hand without warning. “I’ve heard so much about you!”

“You have?” Y/N chokes out a laugh. “All good things, I hope.” She grew heavily uncomfortable when Clarissa stared intensely at the purple gem that was snug in the center of Y/N’s ring. 

Y/N pulls her hand away hastily, wiping it on her jeans. “Of course.” Clarissa’s sickly sweet smile almost gave her a headache. 

“Benny,” she grits through her teeth. “Can I speak with you?” 

Benny looks at her, confused. “What’s up?” 

Y/N clears her throat. “Alone.” 

With no verbal response she drags Benny to a corner where the rest of the group stared at the two. “What’s wrong? Is it Clarissa? Look, I know she’s coming off a little eager but--” 

“That’s all you’re getting from her?” Y/N exasperates. “Don’t you see her eyes they’re pure green, I think they’re magical contacts--”

“Magical--what?!” 

She gestures to where Clarissa was picking at Sarah’s hair. “And she’s wearing a headwrap-thing! And--” She aggressively points at her ring, “--she was analyzing it. I think she knows who I am, and people knowing what I am equals trouble.” 

Benny stares at his cousin like he’s witnessing a crazy person. “Okay, someone’s been overworking her powers a little too much.” He grabs hold of her shoulders. “Clarissa is just a lonely new girl, who just happens to now live right next door to us. And maybe she likes jewelry, and green is good. Nice color. And… You do know there is something called culture, right?” 

Y/N groans. “You’re not getting my point, I think she’s--”

The warning bell rings, cutting her off. “Gotta get to class, maybe you should go home--”

“But--”

“Get some rest.” Benny runs off, catching up with Clarissa.

“Okay, what’s got you all down?” Sarah asks, following the invisible lines Y/N’s making with her eyes, landing on Clarissa. 

“Something is not--”

“I had a vision,” Ethan blurts. “When I shook Clarissa’s hand.” 

“I knew it!” Y/N exclaims. “Snakes on her head, am I right?” 

Ethan shudders. “H-How did you know?” 

“Medusa, I can sense descendants wherever I go,” Y/N admits. “It’s my seventh sense.” 

“You mean sixth sense,” Sarah corrects.

“No, I mean seventh sense.” Ethan and Sarah furrow their eyebrows. “Hard to explain. We need to warn Benny, but I think she already put her spell on him.” 

“Spell?” Ethan questions. “What spell?” 

The second bell rings. “Let’s talk later, during lunch!” Y/N jogs away rounding a corner.

“The thing is…” 

“Ah!” Y/N screams when Clarissa slithers in front of her. “You…” She points an accusing finger at her. “Stay… Away.” Y/N makes a mental note of how her contacts were replaced with a dark pair of sunglasses. 

“You have something I need. You think I want to be this way, snakes for beautiful long hair, turning people into stone. Do you know how lonely it is? I turned my best friend into stone, no way to reverse her back.” Clarissa takes a step closer to Y/N.

“Well, there is, it’s just--AH!” Y/N falls back onto the floor when Clarissa pushes her. “A little more complicated because of…” Her voice fades off.

Clarissa’s eyes didn’t dare to look away from Y/N’s ring. “Because I don’t have that.” 

“So, you want my ring?” Y/N scoffs. “Well, you can’t have it. I’m not giving it to you.” 

Clarissa chuckles. “Like you have a choice.” 

“No, no, no, please don’t do this…. AH!” Y/N had no time to react before Clarissa’s headwrap fell, and she ripped her sunglasses off. 

Grandma gasps, placing a hand on her heart. Not wasting any time she rustles off of the couch, getting to work.

RING! 

“Where’s Y/N? She was supposed to tell us--” 

“Tell you what?” Benny asks, cutting off Ethan. ‘

“That--Clarissa!” Ethan fakes a smile when she comes into view. “Tell us--” 

“Tell us about her upcoming date,” Sarah finishes, nonchalantly. 

“Date?” Luke stomps up to them. “Y/N? On a date? With who?”

“With…” Sarah’s eyes search the area. “Rory!” 

The blonde boy stops, surprised. “What about me?” he asks.

“Your date with Y/N?” Ethan strains his voice, hoping Rory will be smart enough to follow along. 

Rory frowns. “Date…?” Ethan and Sarah nod, pointedly. “Date! Yes! Date. Date with Y/N. I am going on a date with Y/N.” Rory stills. “Wait, I’m going on a date with Y/N?! Sweet!” 

Luke’s jaw drops. “There must be a mistake,” he laughs. “She would never choose an idiot like you.” 

“And who would she choose… You?” Sarah ridicules.

Luke’s eyes flash yellow. “Well, thanks for the compliment. You don’t think I’m an idiot,” he replies. “Where is she?” He changes the topic.

“I-I think I saw her go home,” Clarissa chimes in.

Ethan and Sarah both avert their eyes to the girl. “You did?” Sarah glances at Ethan who undoubtedly thinks the same thing. 

“Yep!” Clarissa innocently smiles. “Why would I lie?” 

“Yeah, why would she lie?” Benny, oblivious of the situation, puts on the same smile Clarissa is sporting. “She’s new.” 

“Which means we know nothing about her,” Luke snarls. 

“Luke’s right!” Ethan confirms. 

“Is he?” Sarah’s voice goes a little higher, but on the inside she 100% agreed. 

“I’m going to go check on her,” Luke announces. 

“Why are you acting like you care about her?” Sarah snickers. “I’m coming with you.” 

“Sarah,” Ethan hisses, grabbing her wrist. Gasping when he makes contact. “I had a vision,” he confesses, letting go of her. “It’s urgent.” 

Sarah quickly glances at everyone before landing on Luke. “Just let us know if she’s there.” 

“Or how about you guys check after school?” Clarissa suggests. “And then if she’s not we can all help look for her--if missing of course. You don’t really want to miss school, do you?” 

Luke bursts into laughter. “You really are new.” And just like that he’s gone. 

“Woah, where’d he go?” Clarissa scans the room. “What are you people? First we have witches, and wizards and now--” 

“Wait, how do you know that?” Ethan interrogates.

“Guys! Chill out, I filled her in on Y/N and I being ‘magical’.” Benny does the quotations. “And how Y/N was a little freaked out by her, but it’s all good.” 

“You told her what?!” Sarah feels her anger rise within her. 

Luke opens the window of Y/N’s room, entering it. “Hello?” he calls out. “Y/N?” 

The door swings open, exposing Grandma on the other side. “Thank God, you’re here.” She runs to grab his arm. “She doesn’t have much time.” 

“What’s going on?” 

She takes him to the basement where Y/N sat on the table, completely made of stone. “She appeared right here, like this, not too long ago, but long enough where we’re getting close to the effects being permanent.” 

“What happened?” Luke walks up to Y/N.

“Medusa, or descendants. Has there been any odd behavior around the school? Or perhaps a new face?”  

Luke perks up. “Yes, there’s a new girl. A little weird, and--” 

“Tell me everything you know, and while you’re doing that, mix this up for me.” She hands him a bowl. “Hurry!” 

Sarah and Ethan continue to sit where they’ve been sitting for the last ten minutes. “How are we going to fix this?” Ethan asks.

Sarah scrunches her face when she realizes Ethan was actually asking for an answer from her. “Don’t ask me, this is not my area of expertise.” 

“If we don’t figure it out soon, you’ll turn to stone.” 

“I’m a vampire, Ethan, I don’t think that’s even possible.” 

“Well, you’re not a full vampire, maybe it’s different,” he disputes. “Look, I know what I saw, and I saw you turn to stone.” 

“So, what do we do?” 

Ethan stops again to think. “We… We need to use her own power against her,” he concludes. “But, we need Benny’s help.”

“Y/N said he’s under her spell, how are we going to take him out of it?” Sarah voices her concerns. “This would be so much easier if Y/N was here. Where is Luke? I knew we couldn’t trust him.” 

“Forget him, we have to figure it out on our own.” 

“I’m just--I’m worried. Y/N hasn’t just vanished like this before.” 

Ethan chuckles. “You obviously haven’t known her for as long as I have.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Ethan inhales through his nose. “We were all best friends when we were kids, it was always me, Y/N, and Benny versus the world. We thought she was crazy when she spoke about her being a witch, and having magical powers. But, she was still our best friend.” He frowns. “Then she left, and never came back. We never got an explanation as to why. She was seven and we were five… And, yet, we remember those days like they were yesterday, and then of course she randomly pops up out of nowhere ten years later. Knowing all of this stuff about me, vampires, magic, it just doesn’t make any sense.” 

“Well, she’s back now, you can get answers. Trust me, I’m just as curious as you for some things when it comes to her…” 

“Have you guys seen Clarissa?” Benny asks. “I haven’t been able to find her.” 

“What?” Ethan stands up. “She’s gone?” He looks at Sarah in alarm. “Benny, okay, I need you to understand this… Clarissa is Medusa, or descendant, or the same species..” 

Benny doesn’t move at first. “Funny, but seriously can you guys help me?” 

The lights flicker. “That’s not good,” Sarah thinks out loud. 

“Benny we’re telling you the truth, I had a vision, and Y/N she--” 

“She put you up to this. She was acting weird earlier. Where is she by the way?” 

“You won’t be seeing a lot from her anymore,” Clarissa’s voice echoes through the halls. 

“Is it just me… Or are we the only ones in the school right now?” Benny searches for any signs of life around them. 

“That’s your question?!” Sarah hisses. “Didn’t you hear what she said about Y/N?” 

“She’s probably just trying to scare us,” Ethan excuses. “We can’t make assumptions.” 

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you guys, we don’t know if Clarissa is--Oh my God!” Benny makes direct contact with the lockers' reflection of Clarissa, snakes floating around her head. “Run!” 

Clarissa apparates in front of them. “Don’t look her in the eyes,” Ethan advises.

“No duh, Ethan!” Benny shouts. 

The locker doors slam open around them. “How is she doing this?” Sarah covers her eyes.

“I’m guessing Y/N’s ring,” Benny guesses. 

“How do we stop her if we can’t see her?” 

“Maybe I can help,” another voice declares. 

“Y/N?!” Sarah calls out. “Where have you been?” 

“I was stuck in a… Situation. But, Luke helped me.” Y/N smiles at Luke. 

“Bring it, now!” Grandma orders. Luke hands it to her. “Stand back.”

“What do you need me to do?” Luke asks, taking a step away from Y/N and Grandma. 

Grandma meets his concerned eyes. “Be there for her when she comes back… It won’t be pretty.” She holds up the potion pouring it all around Y/N’s body. “Here we go.” She internally prayed this would work, especially with Luke watching. She begins to mumble some words incoherently, a bright light coming from her hands. 

“It’s working,” Luke blurts in relief, when the grey stone starts to break off exposing skin. 

“AH!” Y/N screams when most of her upper body is free. She notices the way her hands were still stone, panic rising. 

Luke doesn’t hesitate his arms around her neck, settling her head in the crook of his neck. “You’re okay, it’s okay, you’re alright,” he assures, softly into her ear. Y/N can feel her fingers break free, gripping onto his shirt. “Shhh…” He runs his fingers through her hair. 

Grandma weakly smiles, slowly backing away from them, to leave them alone.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N asks when her cries settle down.

He pulls away, wiping the last fallen tears from her cheeks. “You went missing, and the rest were worried. I took it upon myself to… Find you. I also heard you were going on a date with Rory and I--” 

“Wait! So, Clarissa is at the school with my friends… ALONE?!” 

Y/N’s expression turns stern. “Now Clarissa, how about you do us all a favor and give me my ring back.” She moves close to Luke. “Take the rest, and hide.” 

“What? No. I’m not gonna protect some losers, and that would include me touching them…”  

Y/N takes a deep breath, breaking her stance to hold the bridge of her nose. “Luke, I swear to God I will go back in time and stab you in the heart myself if I have to if you don’t listen to me.” It goes silent. Yes, even Clarissa didn’t move a muscle. “Got it?”

Luke simply nods. 

“Back to business now.” 

“Magical contacts,” Clarissa states more than questions. “Smart.” 

Y/N shrugs carelessly with a smirk. “Learn from the best.” In less than a minute it was just her and Clarissa alone in one of the many creepy hallways of the school. “Now my ring.” She holds out her hand. “It’s not going to give you what you want.” 

“And how do you know exactly what I want?” Clarissa snaps. 

“It’s dangerous for someone not trained to use it, I don’t want to hurt you.” 

Clarissa scoffs. “How are you going to do anything without this?” She points to the ring that rightfully belongs to Y/N. “You’re nothing without it.” 

Those words rang in Y/N’s mind. “That’s not true.” 

“Oh, but I think it is.” With a wave of Clarissa’s hand, Y/N goes flying back. “And with this ring I’m everything.”

Y/N winces as she stands. “You’re just going to hurt yourself.”

“Not a chance.” Another lifeless throw of Clarissa’s fingers Y/N falls to the floor. “See? Can’t even dodge a simple spell. You’re useless, and pathetic. It’s a miracle you can even call yourself a witch.” 

“See?” Y/N mocks Clarissa’s tone. “That’s where you’re wrong.” She stands up, strong. “I’m no witch.” She closes her eyes, the adrenaline coursing through her veins, a certain friction being felt at her fingertips. She elegantly moves as though she is a flower in the wind, building up a bundle of energy at the palm of her hands. 

“I could’ve said that,” Clarissa laughs. “You know, I never thought someone like you could befriend so many vampires.” Y/N bites her lip to keep from distracting herself away from the task. “Who was that one… The one you arrived with. Seems quite special to you. With this ring, vampires will never be immune to my power, nor will any other supernatural when I learn how to get past your little spells. I will make you feel the pain I felt… Starting with that boy.” 

When Y/N opens her eyes it sends a shock wave towards Clarissa. What used to be her dark brown eyes are now a violent shade of purple. “Oh… There is no spell,” Y/N’s voice comes out more deep and demonic. “This--” She gestures to herself, “--is all me.”

“Uhhh…” Clarissa stumbles back.

“Told you I’m no witch.” Y/N creeps up to her. “And I’d watch what you say very carefully.” 

“It’s not poss--” 

Y/N raises up her hand, Clarissa following as she leviates in the air. The lockers that were open around them began to crumple. “Oops… I meant that to be you.” 

“AH!”

Sarah, Benny, Ethan, and Luke become startled by the sound of screaming. “What was that?” Sarah asks, slightly scared.

“Was that Y/N?” Benny starts to stroll towards the school. “We need to help her!” 

Luke harshly grabs his shoulder. “If we’re going to go in there we’ll need these.” He presents the clear contacts to the group. “They’ll block out her magic.” Luke’s thoughts drift off to earlier. 

“What do you need me to do?” Luke asks, taking a step away from Y/N and Grandma. 

Grandma meets his concerned eyes. “Be there for her when she comes back… It won’t be pretty.”

“Let’s go,” Sarah says. “Luke?!” 

Grandma takes his wrist before he follows Y/N out of the house. “Be there for her.” 

“What?” 

“Be there for her when she comes back from the fight,” Grandma guides, vaguely. “She can’t control it.” 

“Control what?” 

“Her emotions… Her powers… Her alter ego,” she explains. “The night she saved you, the night she almost killed Sarah, who do you think that was?”

Luke shakes the odd feeling off. Running after the rest. 

“Please, help me!” Clarissa pleads. 

“Who would ever help you? You’re a monster. You kill people with no remorse. What makes you more worth saving than anyone you’ve murdered?!” Y/N grabs a hold of the girl's wrist. “This belongs…” She plucks the ring off of her with magic. “To me.” Carefully sliding it down her own finger without touching it once. Y/N moves her grip to both Clarissa’s shoulders. “How about I show you the pain you caused?” Her eyes grow brighter as she clearfully shouts sinful spells at Clarissa. The snakes that make up her hair cower in fear as her body becomes more and more weak in Y/N’s hands.

“Y/N!” Ethan yelps. “What are you doing?” 

“Dealing with the enemy,” she answers.

Clarissa allows the tears to fall from her eyes. “Don’t do this! I’m sorry.” Y/N ignores the girl’s cries, and wails. 

“Y/N, you need to stop this.” Luke tries to get her attention. 

Y/N lets out a dark chuckle. “That’s what they tell her, right? To stop this side of her, to hide, well not anymore, not while I’m around will allow her to bury me once more in her pureness,” she pauses. “They will all. Feel. My. WRATH!” 

With a blinding flash of light everything went quiet. 

Everyone opens their eyes to find Y/N lying limp on the ground. “Y/N!” Her friends rush to her aid, huddling around her.

“Wake up.” Luke cups her face, patting her cheek gently. “Wake up, wake up, wake up,” he repeats.

Y/N gasps, her eyes fluttering open. “Guys? Wh-What happened?” 

“You don’t remember?” Ethan asks.

Y/N shakes her head. “No, I just remember Clarissa and--” She cuts herself off, looking around. “Where’s Clarissa?” 

They hear a squeak behind them. 

They turn their heads, Y/N lifting hers to see the damage she caused. “Oh my God!” she shrills when she sees a small snake on the floor. “What have I done?” She scrambles away from the group, going over to what she believed was Clarissa. “I have to fix this.” She picks up the snake.

“Y/N--” 

“Please,” she sobs. “I’ll fix this. I promise I will.” She sets the snake down, taking a deep breath. “I can fix this,” she tells herself. Her arms lift up gracefully, as she moves them around, almost like a dance. A soft breeze brushes everyone coming around to where Y/N sat. “Mmm… Mmm…” She hums a melody. “Water, Earth… Fire, and Ice, I bring thee together to create a new light,” she sings angelically. “Water, Earth… Fire and Ice reverse what I’ve done… Take in the curse and disperse it with love. Reverse the curse and I’ll pay back for what I’ve done…” A warm light glows from Y/N’s hands illuminating the snake that transforms back into the shape of a human. 

Clarissa opens her eyes, sitting up. A trail of long, golden blonde hair follows. “You did it.” She smiles. “You broke the curse.” She wraps her arms tightly around Y/N. “Thank you.” 

Y/N hugs the girl back.

Hiss! 

They pull away from each other. “Oh! I think you have…” Y/N points at the top of her head.

Clarissa reaches up to grab the small snake. “I guess someone had a curse to be broken too.” Her eyes meet Y/N’s. “Thank you, once again.” She giggles. “Sorry I stole your ring, and turned you to stone” 

“What?!” Ethan, Benny, and Sarah exclaims.

“Old news,” Luke mutters. 

“And sorry Benny about the spell I put on you.” 

Benny blinks a few times. “A spell?!” 

“I owe you my life,” Clarissa says.

Y/N waves it off. “You don’t owe us anything. You’re free now, so be free.” 

Clarissa, and Y/N stand up. “Then I must go… Find my parents.” 

Y/N’s eyes light up. “I might have something for that.” Y/N looks around, twirling her finger around to make--

“A compass?” Clarissa questions.

“This is an enchanted compass, think about what you’re trying to find and it’ll take you right to them,” Y/N explains, handing it to her. 

“I was wrong about you,” Clarissa starts. “I thought the ring made you who you are, but… It turns out it’s your heart that makes you everything…” She vanishes.

“Wh-where’d she go?” Ethan looks at Y/N confused.

“To where her parents are.” Y/N smiles. 

The sun shines through the windows, the bells of the school ringing as people walk out of the classrooms. “Where were you guys?” Rory asks. “You missed fifth period.” 

Everyone glimpse at each other’s reactions. “Magic is seriously weird,” Sarah comments. 

“You tell me,” Ethan agrees.

“I already knew,” Y/N admits. 

“When will I get one of those rings?” Benny questions. “I mean… I am a warlock too, and yet why can’t I do all the cool stuff you can do?” 

Y/N laughs. “I don’t know if I would call it cool, but…” She looks at Luke who hasn’t been able to look away from her since she woke up. 

“Are you okay?” 

Y/N is taken aback by his question. “I will be,” she answers, truthfully. “Thanks for being there for me.” 

“Why are they looking at each other like that, when Y/N and I are supposed to be going out on a date?” Rory thinks out loud.

Hearing only the last part of it Y/N looks at him in alarm. “What did I hear about me going out on a date with you?” She gapes at Sarah and Ethan who appear guilty.

“Was that Erica?” Sarah dramatically points the opposite way of them. “I was wondering where that girl was… Gotta go!” 

Ethan stands there awkwardly, as Sarah runs away. “Did Sarah just call for me to come with? I think she did, buh-bye!” 

And so there were three. “So? When is that da--” 

Rory gets cut off by Luke hissing at him. “It’s a no from her loverboy,” Luke bickers. “Leave it.” 

Rory pouts, but genuinely frightened by Luke, paces away. “It’s been a long day, I think I’m gonna go home.” Y/N runs a hand through her hair. “See you later, ‘kay?” She walks off.

Benny was left confused when the direction of her words was towards Luke and not him.

Taglist (Comment If You Want To Be Add, be specific if you just want to be added for this series or Luke Patterson in general):

@lovesanimals @charliegillespiewife @wanniiieeee

[kurokoros]

liar liar | bakugou katsuki

Rated: M

Words: 9.4K

Pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader

Summary: Of all the things he’s experienced working as a Pro Hero, Bakugou never expected his dick getting too big to ever be a problem, let alone one in his top ten.

Bakugou is hit with a strange quirk. You reap the benefits.

AN: This fic is 50% crack and 50% raunchy smut. I have zero explanations for this. Also big thanks to @lady-bakuhoe for ranting with me once about the fandoms weird level of hatred towards Bakugou, thus inspiring me to write something for him. I’m so sorry it was this.

Warnings: smut, language, oral sex (m receiving), dom/sub undertones, rough sex, degradation, spanking, choking, inappropriate use of quirks

***

Of all the things he’s experienced working as a Pro Hero, Bakugou never expected his dick getting too big to ever be a problem, let alone one in his top ten.

Kirishima glances at him out of the corner of his eye as they step into Bakugou’s office, red eyes narrowing in concern as he sees Bakugou’s gritted teeth and clenched fists. “Are you sure you’re okay, bro?” he asks, a little hesitant.

“I’m fine,” Bakugou practically snarls between his teeth. Fuck. The tingling sensation starts in his gut, heat spreading through his limbs, and he nearly swears aloud as the sensation shifts to his dick, his boxer-briefs getting uncomfortably tighter. Shit, he’s probably up to at least another inch by now. Thank god his pants are baggy.

Unfortunately, Kirishima isn’t so easily convinced. Brows furrowing, he looks Bakugou over slowly, searching for any lasting effects from their earlier scuffle with a few low rank villains. “You’ve been acting kind of… strange,” he settles on after an awkward beat of silence, “since you got hit by that quirk. You know, you probably should have gone to a—”

“I said I’m—” Bakugou cuts himself off as that tingle comes back. “I’ll be fine,” he corrects himself. The tingle goes away, and he almost groans in relief as his dick returns to its normal size. “Drop it, Kirishima.”

Kirishima holds his hands up in front of him, placating his huffy friend. “Okay, okay. I get it.” He backs off, still eyeing Bakugou warily as he pulls his phone from his pocket. He glances at the time. “Look, man, I gotta go. I have a date in twenty, and she’s gonna kill me if I’m late again.” His smile is apologetic, but exhausted.

“Whatever.” Bakugou tosses off one of his gauntlets, letting it clatter against the floor noisily. Breathing slowly through his nose, he peels off his mask as well, setting it down on his desk. It’s fine. Everything is fine. He can handle this. It’s just a really fucking annoying quirk that’ll probably go away on it’s own by the end of the day.

Another tingle stirs in his gut, and then his underwear tightens again.

Fuck. He can’t even lie to himself.

Just as casually as before, Kirishima says, “Yeah, and since I figured you shouldn’t be alone, I called you a babysitter,” as he types out a quick text on his phone. If that wasn’t bad enough, Kirishima calls out your name in a sing-song voice.

Bakugou drops his other gauntlet on his foot and whirls around. “You what?” he hisses, only half because of the pain. The sound of your name definitely doesn’t cause his heart to do something stupid like flutter in his chest. And his pants definitely don’t get snug around his crotch as he blatantly lies to himself. “Kirishima, what the fuck? Why would you call her?”

Taken aback by the outburst, Kirishima puts his phone away and shrugs. “I figured she’d make you feel better.”

“I don’t fucking want her here,” Bakugou tells him. Nothing happens in his pants. Like the bullshit quirk affecting his dick can’t decide if that’s a lie or not. Hell, Bakugou isn’t really sure either. Sure, he likes having you around, even if he’d never admit it. He likes seeing your pretty smile as you come flouncing into his office wearing one of those little skirts that make him want to bend you over his desk and—

He squeezes his eyes shut, banishing the thought before it can go any further and his pants grow any tighter from non-quirk related reasons.

On the other hand, you’re quite possibly the last person he ever wants to see him like this. Too bad the universe seems intent on fucking him over today.

“Nice to see you too, Bakugou.” 

The sound of your voice hits him like a lightning strike, still sweet despite the sarcastic inflection of your tone. Bolts of electricity shoot up his spine. In his chest, his heart pounds viciously against his ribs, and Bakugou’s shoulders tense as every one of his senses suddenly becomes a tune to you. Even from across the room, the scent of your perfume tickles at his nose—something floral or fruity that he doesn’t recognize, but it’s heavy and enticing and he tries not to shiver as it wraps around him.

He doesn’t dare turn to look at you as you take a step further into his office, determinedly staring at the wall and hoping you’ll leave with Kirishima. Yeah, un-fucking-likely.

When his silence persists, you roll your eyes and turn to Kirishima instead, the pinched expression on your face relaxing into a pleasant smile when you meet the eyes of the more friendly half of the duo. “Thanks for calling, Kiri,” you say, smoothing out your skirt.

A wide grin is the response you get. “Of course,” Kirishima says, stretching out and linking his fingers behind his head. “Figured he’d listen to you over anyone else.” He ignores the glare Bakugou sends his way, his lips twitching in amusement at the stark silence coming from the explosive blond.

You scoff. “Hardly, but I’ll try.” Casting a glance at Bakugou, you’re a little glad he seems intent on ignoring you, because it gives you the perfect opportunity to give him a slow once-over—for injuries, of course. He looks fine to you, a few superficial scrapes and bruises, but nothing severe enough for Kirishima to call you.

The tension in his shoulders is the first thing you notice. Bakugou is awkwardly hunched over himself in a way that isn’t like him at all. Usually, the Pro Hero exudes confidence that would border on cockiness if he didn’t have the skills to back it up, but right now he just looks... uncomfortable. What little of his face you can see is pinched, but not in annoyance; it’s more like pain, you realize, but then his expression melts into one of relief and you’re left baffled once again.

Before you can think too hard about it, your gaze wanders lower and you’re promptly distracted by his bare arms.

Kirishima clears his throat when you stare at Bakugou’s biceps a little too long.

“What happened anyway?” you ask, turning back to Kirishima. Your face feels warm, and by the way he grins you can tell he notices your faint blush. “You didn’t say much on the phone.”

He sobers a little as you bring the conversation back to the other Hero. The humor bleeds from his eyes, his shoulders drooping. “Yeah, sorry about that,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t have much time. We ran into a couple of villains on patrol. One of them caught Bakubro off guard and he got hit with their quirk. Wouldn’t let anyone check him out after.” He shrugs halfheartedly, looking at you apologetically. “You know how he gets.”

Don’t you ever. You’ve never met someone as stubborn as Bakugou before in your life. He can be a real pain in the ass when he wants, and you can’t blame Kirishima for his best friend being a dumbass.

You prop your hands on your hips, eyes narrowing in on Bakugou again. “How long has he been sulking?” you ask just loud enough for Bakugou to hear you.

Ruby eyes pin you with a heavy glower that would probably make anyone else piss themselves. Bakugou’s lip pulls back in a snarl, his teeth bared, and you ignore the pleasant tingle that shoots down your spine. “I’m not fucking sulking!” he snaps at you, making your eyes roll.

“Sure you aren’t.” Before he can start arguing with you, you turn back to Kirishima. “What do we know about this quirk?” 

“Nothing. Cops are questioning the guy now, but he’s not talking.” Kirishima gestures to Bakugou with his thumb. “And Ground Zero here keeps saying he’s fine.”

Across the room, Bakugou grumbles to himself under his breath, noticeably displeased with your lack of attention, but like hell he’s going to say anything about it. Jealousy is a bitter taste in the back of his mouth, and for once he can’t even pretend that’s not what it is as his glare shifts to Kirishima. Fuck, he wants you to look at him again. Pay attention to him.

The honesty is surprising to him, but he keeps his mouth shut and definitely doesn’t pout as you and Kirishima continue to chat like he isn’t even there. When it becomes clear that you aren’t going to end the conversation immediately, Bakugou huffs and turns around, glaring as he leans back against his desk, watching the two of you. His gaze skips right over Kirishima and lands on you, and he swallows back a frustrated groan when he finally gets a good look at you.

Fuck, you look good today. Unable to help himself, he’s absolutely shameless as he stares at your legs, your short skirt and high heels making them look even longer than usual. Bakugou grits his teeth as his mind drifts to those legs wrapping around his hips and yanking him closer. For once, he allows the thought to linger, lost in his own head.

“I see,” you murmur as your conversation with Kirishima comes to a close. With your lips pursed in thought, your gaze shifts back to Bakugou, only to find him already staring right back at you, watching you intently. Your pulse jumps under his piercing gaze, and it takes everything in you to break eye contact with him and smile at Kirishima instead. “I’ll take care of it. Have fun on your date, Kiri.”

Kirishima shoots you a megawatt smile and a thumbs up.“Will do! Good luck with this guy!” He pays no attention to Bakugou’s grumbling as he heads out the door, closing it quietly behind him, leaving you and Bakugou alone together in an office far away from other people.

Yeah, this should be fun.

You twist on your heels so that you’re facing Bakugou directly. Trying for a charming smile, you prop your hands on your hips. He glares at you and crosses his arms over his chest, clearly not planning on cooperating. And boy does it give you an excellent view of his muscled forearms, all tanned skin and silver scars from years of hero work. You wet your lips, suddenly thirsty. 

“Okay, Ground Zero,” you start, giddily noticing the way he puffs up at your use of his hero name, “are you going to tell me what’s wrong or do we have to do this the hard way?” Your voice lowers at the end, coming out as a husky whisper.

Bakugou’s throat bobs with a harsh swallow, and he grits his teeth against the pleasant warmth that curls in his chest. “Piss off,” he bites out, a low and dangerous edge to his voice that you easily ignore.

If you hadn’t known him for years, maybe it would be intimidating, but despite his gruff attitude and biting tone, you know he would never lay a hand on you. “Come on, Bakugou,” you try again, taking a step towards him as a small pout forms on your lips. “Please tell me? I just want to help and make you feel better.”

The breathy whine you let out paired with you wanting to make him feel better does absolutely nothing to help the situation going on in his pants.

His gaze slides to the side, avoiding your eyes as he tells you to “Just go home,” because he doesn’t want to see the disappointment there.

But you don’t back down. You can be just as stubborn as him when you want to be, and there’s no way in hell you’re leaving just so he can cling to his manly pride, or whatever it is he’s worried about. Clearly, asking nicely isn’t going to work. Honestly, you’d be more surprised if it did. “Hard way it is.”

Bakugou’s eyes widen, and his head snaps towards you just in time for you to launch yourself at him. It’s a bit difficult, between your skirt and heels, but you catch him off guard, and that helps. He tries to twist away at the last second, leaving you to cling to his back, limbs wrapping around him tightly. A surprised grunt escapes his at your sudden weight on him, but he doesn’t even stumble, letting you curl your body around him in a one-sided hug.

“Get off me, loser,” he growls at you, glaring at you over his shoulder. Despite his irritation, Bakugou makes no move to shake you off. In fact, one of his big hands latches onto your leg when you start to slip, allowing you to shift yourself for a better grip. He lets go of you just as quickly, standing stock still in the middle of the room while glaring at everything that isn’t you.

Your fingers dig into his shoulder where you’re grabbing him. “Not until you tell me what’s wrong!”

This time, he does try to shake you off, and you squeal as your grip starts to slip. “I’m fine!” he snaps at you, only to wince a second later.

Ever the opportunist, you don’t think twice before hooking your leg around him and going for his knees. Bakugou swears as he loses his balance, and somehow you manage to knock him to the floor using a grappling move that he taught you. He ends up rolling in time to land on his back, cushioning your fall aa your knees press against the floor on either side of his hips, straddling him as you pin him with a firm look. Long fingers grasp at your upper thighs, his thumbs grazing the hem of your skirt, and he lets you go just as quickly, as if you’ve burned him

Bakugou looks like he’d rather be anywhere else, but, again, he makes no move to shove you away, though he definitely could.

“Oh, yeah, clearly you’re just fine,” you reply, sarcasm laid on thick. Your hands are pressed against his chest for balance as you regain your bearings, and you can feel the angry breath he takes. Bakugou is warm and solid beneath you, hips pressed snug against yours. It feels way too good, but that’s not what you need to be thinking about at this moment. “Now stop acting like a baby and tell me what’s going on.”

Looking up at you, Bakugou sighs when your fierce look doesn’t relent. He mutters something under his breath that’s too low for you to make out clearly, then grimaces. “It’s nothing,” he tells you again, a harsh edge to his voice.

You pin him with a glare. “You got hit by a strange quirk, Bakugou,” you tell him slowly, contempt dripping from every word. “That’s not nothing.” The crack in your voice on the last word is what makes him drop the sour look on his face. You wince, fingers curling tighter around his shirt, like that might keep you grounded. All the fear you felt when Kirishima called you earlier comes surging back through you, and it feels like a blow to the ribs. You stare at his chest as you continue, the words bubbling up and out before you can stop them. “I know you. You’re too damn prideful to go see a doctor and admit something is wron—and that scares me sometimes, you know? One day you could get really hurt.” Slowly, you force your eyes up, meeting his stare with your own tentative one. “Please, just tell me what’s wrong. For me?”

Bakugou’s expression softens nearly an imperceptible amount. His glare smooths out. “Fuck,” he growls under his breath, trying to ignore the violent tug on his heartstrings that comes with that pleading look in your eyes. He’s always been a sucker for you, and you damn well know it too.

But he’s not going to give in this time.

The tingle that goes straight to his crotch proves him very wrong.

You freeze above him, body locking up as something big and hard presses against your inner thigh. “Katsuki,” you say, forcing yourself not to react aside from the widening of your eyes. “Is that your…”

“Yeah,” he replies, jaw clenched. His tone is nothing short of mocking when he tacks on, “You’re sitting on my cock, sweetheart.”

Well, shit. You blink at him owlishly, mouth opening and closing soundlessly as you try to think of literally anything to say in this situation that isn’t stupid, crass, or a blatant change of subject. It’s surprisingly hard to think with his bulge pressed up against your leg like this, and you blurt the first thing that comes to mind. “Are you turned on right now?” you ask incredulously, jabbing a finger into his chest. “I swear to God, Katsuki, I’m trying to be serious here, and you—”

He cuts you off. “I’m not fucking hard.” A pair of big, rough hands latch onto your thighs to keep you from squirming over his lap. “But if you keep moving around like that, I will be.”

“You liar.” A gasp sticks in your throat as he tightens his grip on your legs. By this point, you’re pretty sure you’re blushing, but honestly, you can’t find it in you to care when you are, in fact, basically sitting on his lap. Besides, Bakugou doesn’t look that much better. “If you were that big while soft, I’m pretty sure I would have noticed by now.”

Well that catches his attention. A smug smile stretches across his face. All teeth. “You spend a lot of time looking at it, angel?” Oh, this time he’s definitely mocking you. The palms of his hands slide up your thighs until his fingertips graze the hem of your skirt where it’s hiked partway up your legs, revealing a few tantalizing inches of your bare skin.

“Oh, no, you aren’t changing the subject,” you snap at him, sitting up a little straighter. “Why the hell is your dick so big, and what the fuck is going on?”

Your questions echo awkwardly through the otherwise silent room. For a tense moment, Bakugou just glares up at you. One of his eyes twitches slightly, his lips turned down in a grimace. You don’t relent, glaring right back at him. Eventually, one of you is going to have to give in, and it’s sure as shit not going to be you this time.

“Fuck.” He squeezes his eyes shut and tilts his head back against the floor. His fingers bite into your thighs when you shift on top of him, leaning a little closer. “It’s that dumbass villain’s quirk,” he sneers, baring his teeth in a snarl as he opens his eyes again. There’s nothing that could possibly prepare you for what he says next. “When I lie my cock gets bigger.”

You almost laugh. Almost. The deathly serious look in his eyes is the only thing that keeps you from bursting into a fit of giggles. And you believe him. You probably wouldn’t if you weren’t currently straddling his lap and sitting on his abnormally large cock. But, yeah. Sure. His dick gets bigger when he lies, and somehow that makes perfect sense.

“What, like some kind of kinky lie detector?” You almost suggest Pinocchio, but you doubt he’d take that well at all. 

Predictably, he makes a face at your comparison. “Sure. Whatever.”

Again, neither of you say anything, letting an awkward silence develop between you. While Bakugou just looks all around uncomfortable with the situation, your brow is pinched in thought. Honestly, this quirk seems like some bullshit. You can’t imagine what benefit anyone would get out of making someone’s dick grow when they lie, aside from the exact situation you’re currently in. You almost feel worse for the poor sap stuck with such a bizarre quirk than the Pro Hero currently lying between your legs.

A full body shiver runs through you, and every nerve suddenly becomes highly aware of the man beneath you. Every breath he takes moves his chest beneath your hands, and you can feel the rapid beating of his heart beneath your palm. The tips of his fingers ghost against your thighs, not quite touching you, like he isn’t sure what to do with his hands anymore. And, suddenly, all you can think about are those hands grabbing you by the hips and grinding you down against him.

Unbeknownst to you, similar thoughts are wreaking havoc on Bakugou. From where you’re sitting on top of him, he has a perfect view of your legs and chest, and every time you shift, the movement goes straight to his cock. He almost hisses between his teeth as your thighs tighten around his hips, which only presses the growing bulge in his pants harder against you. His fingers twitch against your legs. It would be so easy for him to roll the two of you over, pin you beneath him, and show you exactly what you do to him. Fuck you senseless until you—

“What are you thinking right now?”

The question is like a hard slap across the face. His eyes snap from the apex of your legs to your face, caught red-handed. There’s no way for him to get out of this one without his dick giving him away or an actual slap across the face. He chooses his traitor dick. “That I want you to get the fuck off me.”

You look entirely unimpressed when his dick moves between your legs, growing larger in seconds. “Liar,” you deadpan. You drum your fingers against his chest, unintentionally matching the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “Tell me the truth and maybe I’ll move.” Nevermind that he could definitely throw you across the room one handed if he really wanted to. Frankly, you’re a little surprised he hasn’t already, given your current situation. 

Not that you want to move right now. You’re quite comfortable where you are.

Bakugou’s tongue swipes across his bottom lip. Those ruby eyes drag down your body slowly, shamelessly drinking in the sight of you sitting on top of him. An unexpected lick of run runs along your spine; your breath catches. “You look really fucking sexy right now,” he tells you, and his hands grab your thighs again.

It takes a second for you to register his confession, though you can’t say you’re that surprised. “Huh. Never pegged you as a guy who wanted someone on top.” You can work with that.

His brow furrows. “You know, you’re taking this surprisingly well.”

“I work in quirk registration for the police,” you remind him, shrugging. “This isn’t the weirdest thing I’ve come across.” Honestly, you aren’t even sure it makes the top ten, but you keep that to yourself. You get the feeling he’d take that as some kind of challenge, and you don’t need that kind of stress in your life. “How long has it been like this?”

A shrug. “Shit, I don’t know.” Bakugou shifts beneath you, craning his neck to look at the clock on the wall. “Thirty minutes, maybe. Why?”

“Effects from quirks like this typically only last an hour or two,” you explain. “Maybe twenty-four hours at most, depending on how much training the user has.” Your head cocks to the side as you give him an entirely unsubtle once-over. “It sounds like he didn’t give you and Kirishima much trouble though. I’d put your... little problem at an hour and a half maximum. You should be fine.”

There’s a wicked look in his eyes. “Nothing little about it, babe.” His palms slide up your legs, rucking up your skirt even higher on his way to grab your hips. “Hour left, huh?” A low hum rumbles through his chest. “I can work with that.”

You freeze. “Katsuki, what are you—”

“Look,” he cuts you off with an irritated sigh, “I’ve liked you for a long time, so if you want to fuck right now, that’s fine with me.” Heartbreaking honesty shines in his eyes, only partially masked by a layer of annoyance and boredom, like he doesn’t care either way. The way his fingers dig into your hips tells a different story.

Your eyes widen at his crass confession, your lips parting as you stare down at Bakugou in shock. “Are you…” you hesitate, swallowing down the sudden lump in your throat as your fingers curl against his shirt. “Are you serious?”

Bakugou glares at you, but his faint blush gives him away. “You’re the one sitting on my magic cock, you tell me.”

You sit there for a good minute, just staring at him, mouth opening and closing soundlessly as you try to think of any kind of response. Eventually, you settle on, “That is, by far, the worst declaration of love I’ve ever heard.”

If you thought he was glaring before, it has nothing on the look he levels you with now. “Who fucking said anything about loving you, dumbass?” he snaps, huffing, cheeks turning an even darker shade of pink. “Like hell I do!” He grits his teeth as his dick tingles.

“Yeah, well, your magic cock reveals your deceit,” you mock him. “You’re such an emotionally stunted pain in the ass, Katsuki!” 

He opens his mouth—probably to start yelling about something—but you lurch forward and meet his mouth in a fierce kiss before he can say anything. He grunts in surprise and squeeze your hips, but kisses you back eagerly, immediately tilting his chin for a better angle. The hands that were on your hips don’t hesitate to move. One slides up your back to fist in your hair, pulling you closer as the other drops to your ass. A hard grope makes you gasp against his lips, your fingers clenching tighter in the front of his hero suit.

Before things can get too heavy, too fast, you pull back, leaving just an inch of space between your lips. He doesn’t let you go much further. “I like you, too,” you whisper against him. He stiffens as your fingers touch his bare chest where his hero suit doesn’t cover him.

His heart is pounding just as quickly as yours, and he’d never admit it, but he swears your little confession does something funny to his chest. All of it does. The heat of your breath. The gentle weight of your body on top of his. Something about you makes him feel inexplicably soft, and he wants to hate that feeling, but he still can’t lie to himself without his cock growing two sizes. And if he’s going to stuff you full of his cock, he wants it to be all him.

At least at first.

With the hand still tangled in your hair, Bakugou yanks you back down. Your lips mold against his perfectly, the space left between you nonexistent. When he kisses you it’s all teeth and tongue, and your lips part readily beneath his demanding touch. He makes a low sound of approval in the back of his throat, slotting his lips harder against yours. Using the hand cupping the back of your head, he adjusts you above him, tilting your chin until he finds a position he likes.

The dominating way he touches you makes you keen, and your quiet whimper is smothered by his tongue delving into your mouth to taste you. Your legs tremble on either side of his hips as the hand on your ass gropes you again. By now, your skirt is hiked halfway up your waist, and if anyone were to walk in they’d get a perfect view of your ass and the damp spot forming between your thighs.

You arch into his touch at the thought, moaning as his teeth tug at your lip.

By the time you pull away, you both have kiss-swollen lips.

When Bakugou recalls what you called him a moment ago, he chuckles, deep and throaty, and it sends a thrilled shiver up your spine. “I’ll show you a real pain in the ass later, sweetheart,” he promises, squeezing your ass cheek for good measure. The squeeze is followed by a sharp slap, and you lurch forward, a startled squeal slipping out of your mouth.

You glare down at him. Well, you try to. It’s a little hard to pretend to be mad at him when his hand comes up to rub the spot where he smacked you, which only presses your hips closer to his growing bulge. Your tone is dry when you say, “I’m sure you will.” And then, because he’s already propositioned you and has his hand on your ass, you grind yourself against his dick.

“Shit,” he grunts, grabbing your hips. His fingers bite into your skin, twitching like he doesn’t know if he wants to still you or shove you down on his cock. A slow exhale hisses through his teeth. “You tryin’ to be a cock tease?”

The satisfaction that bubbles up in you only feeds the damp heat between your legs. He’s hardly touched you, but you can already feel yourself getting wet just from the thought of him filling you. You brace yourself against him, palms pressed flat against his chest. “You want me to stop?” Purposefully fluttering your eyelashes at him, you slowly work your hand lower, fingers grazing over lean muscle until you stop at his waist, pressing down on his belt.

As your eyes start to follow the path of your hand, Bakugou reaches out and grabs your chin. A warning squeeze makes you mewl expectantly. “Keep talking, baby, and I'll put that mouth to better use.” The pad of his thumb traces your bottom lip. Before he can let go, you tilt your head into his touch, teeth barely grazing his finger as you nip at him. “Such a little brat,” he sneers. 

You’re thrown off balance when he sits up. His abdominal muscles flex against your stomach as he crushes you against his chest, and your hands fly to his shoulders, desperate for something to hold onto. Bakugou kisses you again, lips hungry and demanding as they press against yours, and you give him complete control. He tilts your chin, pulls your hair, bites your lips, and every touch makes you feel hazy and warm.

Anticipation churns in your stomach. Your hands slide over his shoulders, looping around his neck. He grunts when your wrist brushes against the side of his neck, and when you card your fingers through his hair and tug, he lets out a sound that goes right to your core.

The hand on your ass gives you another sharp spank. The motion jerks your hips against his, and you grind down against the hard cock rubbing your inner thigh. His fingers knead your ass and the back of your thigh, groping and squeezing and helping your hips along as you rock languidly over his lap. Each roll of your hips has his cock dragging across your damp panties, the head kissing your clit through the layers of your clothes. You shudder, lost in the feeling.

You’re only half aware of him moving, not noticing until the hand that was in your hair slips beneath your shirt to palm your breast. An appreciative squeeze has you arching into him, hips stuttering against his. Bakugou nips at your bottom lip hard enough to make you whimper, and when he pulls away you’re sure it’s swollen and flushed from his treatment.

But he doesn’t leave you for long. You’re barely given a moment to breathe before his mouth is on your jaw, your cheek, your chin. Bakugou trails heated, open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck, only stopping when he finds a spot that has you lurching against him, a pretty little moan falling from your mouth. He laves attention to that spot, right over your racing pulse. Teeth dig into your sensitive neck, and your breath catches in your throat as he begins to suck, intent on leaving a mark. You don’t stop him as he works a hickey just below your jaw, eyes fluttering shut at the onslaught of sensation. 

Before leaving that spot, he drags his tongue across your neck to soothe the bruise he’s left behind.

Desire curls in your chest as a thought comes to mind, and you’re too slow to stop it from spilling out. “I wanna touch you,” you choke out as his mouth trails lower. Bakugou pauses, lips hovering just shy of your throat. The heat of his breath fans your damp skin, sending little pinpricks of electricity all the way to where your hips are grinding against his. You swallow, one hand fisting in the back of his shirt as his thumb brushes against the lacy cup of your bra.

“Already are, baby,” he says, partly muffled by your neck as he ghosts his lips against you. “Grinding against my cock like a little slut. Gonna get yourself off for me just like that?” He’s hiding a smirk. It’s clear what you want by the way your hips roll against his faster, grinding down harder as teasing touches turn desperate, but he wants to hear you say it. He wants you begging for his cock before he fucks you.

He ruts against you, alternating between squeezing your breast and ass. 

“Bakugou!” You try to sound reprimanding, but his name comes out as a breathy whine. There’s no way for you to get your hand on him with the way he has you pressed flush against his chest. And he’s definitely not going to make things easy for you.

As if he knows what you’re thinking, the man beneath you laughs. “You want it that bad, you better take it yourself, sweetheart.”

Huffing, you try to put some space between your hips, but his grip is firm. Bakugou swats your ass when you try to move, and you whimper as it forces your hips harder against his. You try a second time, and he pinches your nipple through the flimsy cup of your bra. Your head falls back with a moan, giving him greater access to your throat, and he smirks as he bites down on your soft skin.

Fine. You can play this game, too.

With a sharp grind of your hips, you rub your clit against him just right. Your back arches. Your thighs tense around his hips. “Ground Zero,” comes out as a needy whine against his ear. You feel him tense beneath you, his grip faltering for just a second. That’s all you need.

The momentary distraction is all you need to slide back on his thighs, putting just enough space between your hips to grab his belt and grind the heel of your hand against the massive bulge straining against his pants. Even through his pants you can feel how thick and long he is, and your pussy clenches at the thought of him fucking you senseless.

He grunts as you palm him, squeezing gently as you trace the outline of his cock. His mouth leaves your neck with a wet pop. “Shit,” Bakugou murmurs. Soft strands of his spiky hair tickle the side of your neck as he rests his head against you, reveling in the feel of your light touches.

Your fingers brush against the back of his neck, your palm grinding against him when his hips rock forward. Strong muscles flex beneath your thighs. Bakugou’s throat bobs with a harsh swallow. 

Unable to stop yourself, you duck your head, pressing your lips against the side of his neck. It’s hard to find an angle with the bracers around his neck, and your attention turns to the front of his throat instead. Bakugou groans as you kiss him, lovebites and lipstick stains left in the wake of your mouth. He lets you kiss and nip your way down to his collarbone.

Thank god for the low cut of his shirt, you think, biting down on his chest hard enough to leave a mark. At the same time, your fingers grasp at his belt, nearly snapping the buckle in your hurry to get your hand on him. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’re aware of him saying something—calling you needy or naughty, you aren’t sure which—but you don’t care as you finally get your hand in his pants and grab his dick.

“You’re so big,” you murmur, eyes widening. The tips of your fingers don’t touch as you wrap your hand around his cock, stroking him languidly from base to tip. You can’t get a good look at him from your position, but you can feel every ridge and vein of his shaft, and you bite your lip at the sheer girth of him. “Is this from the quirk?” you ask him, swirling your thumb over the tip before dragging your hand back down, giving him a firm squeeze. You lean back a little, wanting to look at him, but Bakugou lurches forward to get his mouth on you again.

He groans against your ear, pressing a harsh kiss against the side of your jaw. “All me, babe,” he tells you, smug. For once, you really can’t blame him for being cocky. “Fuck, that feels good.” 

The way your soft hand slides against his shaft wrecks havoc on his brain, and Bakugou presses another heated kiss to your neck to smother a loud moan. He’s already painfully sensitive from having you hump his lap, and your tentative touch only makes him harder. And that damn quirk didn’t help at all. After over a half hour of that bullshit cock tease, he’s just aching to bury himself in your dripping pussy.

Your thumb traces the thick vein on the side of his cock, pressing against it gently before twisting your hand. The sudden change in angle and the way you squeeze him have a low sound tearing from his chest, and then your hand is being yanked out of his pants. Bakugou’s fingers clench around your wrist in a vice grip, and you wince at the mild sting.

“Get up,” he demands, nearly growling. His fingers are digging into your ass hard enough to leave faint bruises, but you don’t care. When you hesitate, he releases you only to slap the back of your thigh. “Now.”

You pussy clenches at the pain that quickly dissolves into pleasure. “What’s wrong, Katsuki,” you can’t help but tease, hoping to get a reaction out of him, “afraid you’ll cum too fast?”

He doesn’t spank you again, though his palm does press against your reddening ass cheek in a way that speaks of a warning. “Don’t make me tell you again, baby.”

It takes another second before you shift off his lap, your legs quivering as you stand. You almost consider ignoring the command. Almost. But it doesn’t take much for you to decide you’d rather see what he has planned for you.

Your thighs rub together as Bakugou rises from the floor in one fluid motion, years of training making him silent, almost catlike. He reaches for you as soon as he’s standing, towering over you, an imposing figure. The scattering of small marks on his throat makes you grin, but the smile is wiped from your face as he grabs your chin roughly between his fingers and forces you to meet his eyes.

Ruby red and blown wide with lust, the look in his sharp gaze makes your breathing hitch. A wet crackling sound leaves your mouth as your lips part for him. His thumb grazes your bottom lip. “Such a dirty fucking mouth,” he growls.

You stumble a little as he starts walking you backwards, not touching you aside from the firm grip he has on your jaw. You go willingly, eyes on his. Excitement has your stomach flipping, a nervous flutter in your belly, and you gasp when your back hits the side of his desk, the cold wood pressing against your skin where he’s tugged at the hem of your shirt. 

Bakugou’s thumb delves past your lips, dipping into your wet mouth, and your lips wrap around him greedily. Sucking gently, your teeth press against his skin possessively, tongue laving attention to his thick digit. With his free hand, Bakugou grabs the front of your plain blouse and yanks it open, careful not to rip any of the buttons. You let your shirt fall to the floor, wriggling a little as it sticks around your elbows. He reaches up to palm your breast, humming in approval once he sees your pretty bra.

“Get on your knees, baby,” he tells you, pulling his thumb from your mouth and smearing your spit across your lips, watching them glisten. “I want to see your mouth on my cock.”

You do as you’re told, practically shaking with anticipation as you drop to your knees for him. Now that you’ve gotten a feel for his cock, you’re desperate to have him inside you. Your mouth. Your pussy. It doesn’t matter which. Any thoughts of playing coy or being a brat disappear into the back of your mind as he pins you with a harsh stare. Bakugou pets your hair, threading the soft strands through his fingers to hold you still. 

You bite your lip as his free hand drops to his waist, Bakugou shoving his pants and boxers down just low enough for his cock to spring free. The size makes you swallow. He’s bigger than you thought. Thicker. And you remember how your hand couldn’t wrap all the way around him. Your thighs clench, rubbing together as a dull ache builds between your legs.

He doesn’t waste his time. Shifting forward, he palms himself, lazily stroking his cock with his own fingers, just out of your reach. When you try to lean forward, he pulls your hair, forcing you back again. “Such a little slut,” he murmurs, allowing the head of his cock to press against your wet lips, his hips slowly rocking back and forth. Your tongue flicks out to taste him, and he groans. “There you go,” he says, brushing a few stray strands of hair away from your face before he starts pushing his cock into your mouth.

You immediately close your lips around him, bobbing your head forward as much as his tight grip will let you. Bakugou feeds you his cock, sliding into your wet mouth slowly as you start to suck, letting you adjust to just how fucking thick he really is. His girth has your jaw stretched wide, forcing you to breathe slowly through your nose. You glance up at him.

“That’s it, angel,” he groans as you bob your head again, “suck my cock.” His hips rock forward in a shallow thrust; his eyes lock on your lips, stretched obscenely around his length. Wet trails of saliva stick to his cock as you pull back to swirl your tongue around the head. 

Whimpering around him, you suck harder, swallowing around him, anything that might pull another filthy moan from his mouth. Your hands grab his thighs for balance, your fingers digging into his legs as you try to pull him closer.

You’re rewarded with a low moan rumbling from his chest. Bakugou’s eyes slip shut for a second, his head tilting back in raw pleasure. “Figures you'd be a perfect little cock sucker,” he says under his breath, almost too low for you to hear him. “I bet you want me to fuck your face, huh, baby?”

You settle for moaning instead of nodding, watching him through your eyelashes as he pants above you. 

“Fuck.” A long, hissing exhale escapes through his teeth, and his hand tightens in your hair just a little bit as he watches you work his cock. You look so fucking pretty with your mouth wrapped around him, your lips slick with saliva as you take him deeper into your mouth. There are tears beading at the corners of your eyes. “Fuck,” he says again, “you feel so good.” He grunts. “How long have you been thinkin’ about sucking my cock, babe?”

You flush under his gaze, unable to answer with your mouth full of his dick, but the answer must be clear as day on your face. You don’t know what it is he’s thinking about, but you swear his cock gets bigger in your mouth, that strange quirk making him thicker so that you’re nearly choking on him.

Bakugou holds your head still as he starts to rock his hips; he moves slowly at first, his thrusts shallow and even, but he quickly picks up speed when you whine around his cock. It isn’t long before he’s fucking your mouth, thrusts as rough as you’d expect from someone like him. His cockhead brushes against the back of your throat, his hips stuttering as he holds you like that, your lips pressed nearly against the base of his cock.

Somehow, you manage to keep your eyes on him. You force your throat to relax and swallow around him. His eyes almost roll back at the sensation, but he keeps his ruby gaze locked on you, watching how well you take him. He can only imagine how good you’re going to take his cock, too. He speeds up again, groaning as the pressure in his gut starts to build.

His cock pulls from your mouth with a wet sound, and you cough, sucking in greedy mouthfuls of air. Bakugou drags you off the floor, and your startled gasp is cut off by his hand wrapping around your throat. He doesn’t squeeze, unfortunately, just holds his palm there. The next thing you know, you’re being shoved against the nearest wall, your cheek pressed to the chilly surface as Bakugou all but rips off your skirt, leaving you in just your underwear and shoes. 

The fabric pools on the floor in a crumpled heap, and Bakugou kicks it aside in order to spread your legs from behind. You brace your hands against the wall, ass out, and he’s on you in a second.

Teasing is thrown out the window as he finally—finally—touches you. One of his hands reaches around you to grope your chest, palming your breast roughly before shoving the cup of your bra aside to tweak and pinch your nipple. You’re a panting, whining mess by the time he gets his hand between your legs. Two thick fingers drag over the crotch of your panties, and he actually laughs when he feels how wet you are. “Shit, you get that horny just from sucking my cock?”

Blearily, you nod, pressing your pussy closer to his hand. Bakugou shoves your panties to the side, fingers skimming through your wetness before rolling over your clit. You nearly sob at how good it feels to have him touch you. It’s like his hands were meant to please you, big and rough, his calloused fingers providing the perfect amount of friction. Each precise stroke of his fingers feeds the knot in your belly, keeping you right on the edge of coming undone.

“You’re gonna feel so fucking good on my cock,” he tells you removing his fingers from your clit to squeeze your ass. His cock quickly replaces his hand between your thighs, his thick length rubbing against your slick pussy, the head bumping against your clit with every stroke. Bakugou lets go of your breast; his hand slaps against the wall beside your head for balance. “Pretty cunt squeezing around me. That what you want?”

“Please. Oh, please,” you mumble. Anything to get him inside you. It almost hurts how turned on you are right now. From the corner of your eye, you see him reach for the hem of his shirt, about to pull it off. “Don’t!”

Bakugou goes absolutely still at your sharp cry. The only movement is his eyes snapping up to meet yours, flooded with concern as he checks to see if he’s hurting you.

But you whimper, trying to shove yourself back on his cock. “Don’t take it off,” you clarify breathlessly, legs quivering with the effort of holding yourself up.

The concern bleeds from his eyes, and they’re taken over by something dark and hungry instead as he realizes what you mean. He thrusts his cock between your thighs, your slick covering his cock as it drips from you. Your eyes flutter as he pressed against your clit again. “Don’t take what off?” He wants to hear you say it.

And you’re so painfully aroused that the words come spilling out of your mouth before you can stop him. “Your costume,” you choke out around a loud moan. “I want you to fuck me while you’re wearing your costume.” That’s one dirty little fantasy you’ve had for a while, maybe ever since you met him. The thought of him fucking you while he’s still in costume is almost too much, but god do you want it badly.

“That so?” he drawls. His hand drops from his shirt back to your ass cheek, groping you before spreading you from behind. He takes a step back, ignoring your whine, and whistles when he gets a good look at your dripping slit. Bakugou tugs your hips back, forcing your back to arch for him. “What a naughty little slut. You got a thing for heroes, baby?”

Just you, you think, but all you can do is moan his name. “Bakugou.”

You cry out as he slaps your ass. “No, no, no,” he repremends. “That's not what you call me.”

“Katsuki, please,” you manage to whine around a harsh swallow.

He spanks you again. “Come on, angel, you know what to say.” It takes a second for it to click, but when it does you blush. “Fuck, look how wet you are.” He chuckles as he looks at your glistening thighs. Another love tap lands on your reddening ass. “You like it when I spank you?”

“Yes,” you mewl.

He spreads your legs open wider. “Yes, what?”

You take a deep, shuddering breath, cheek pressed against the wall in front of you. “Yes, Ground Zero.” Your tongue runs across your bottom lip. “Sir,” you tack on.

“Good girl.” 

There’s no warning as he adjusts himself behind you, cock slamming into you hard enough to steal your breath. There’s no resistance, you're so wet. You pussy clenches around him, your walls sucking him in deeper. That’s all it takes for an orgasm to rip through you, the knot in your belly snapping so fast that all you can do is let out a silent scream as you slump forward against the wall.

Bakugou is equal parts shocked and amused as you try to milk his cock, and he grits his teeth as his dick twitches inside of you, almost pulling him over with you. “Fuck,” he laughs. “You cum just from me filling you up?” You whimper and nod. “Shit, you’re so fucking tight.” 

He presses you closer to the wall, and his arm slips beneath your knee, lifting your leg and holding you open. Your thigh burns from the stretch. His cock drags along your walls slowly before, only the tip left inside before he thrusts back into you, reaching deeper.

He picks up a steady pace, slamming into you over and over. You’re already so sensitive from your first orgasm, and little gasps and whines keep falling from your mouth with every brutal thrust as Bakugou finds your sweet spot, hitting it perfectly as he pounds you. He’s thick and hard inside you, even bigger than he was in your mouth, and your eyes widen when you realize he’s doing it on purpose. “How big can you get?” you gasp, moaning as his cock expands inside you, filling you up completely.

“As big as you fucking want me,” he snarls back, fucking you faster, hiking your leg up higher.

All you can do is hold on and take it.

You don’t know how much time passes, the only sounds are your heavy breathing and his harsh panting against your ear. Sweat drips down your back where he’s sliding over you, and his fingers bite into your thigh as he almost loses his grip. “You know whose office is on the other side of this wall?” he asks suddenly. “Answer me, baby!” A particularly harsh thrust follows the demand.

“No, Sir,” you pant.

“Fucking Deku.” He grits his teeth as that now familiar tingle goes right to his cock, but you don’t seem to notice the lie. “You think he’s in there right now? His desk is right on the other side.” You pussy squeezes around him, and Bakugou moans against the side of your neck. “I bet he can hear you in here panting like a whore as I fuck your slutty little cunt.”

Your back arches into him, the revelation reigniting the fire he lit inside you. That knot comes back, just as tight as before, and you tremble as you realize he’s going to make you cum again. “Ground Zero,” you whine.

He lets go of your thigh, but keeps your knee hooked around his elbow. His hand snakes around your hips to rub your clit, and you jerk against him. “He’s got some new intern, too. Some little high school brat.” A high-pitched, needy sound falls from your mouth. “Fuck, you sound so pretty when you moan my name.” He rolls your clit harder between his fingers, and the heat rolling from him is so sweltering that it’s hard to breathe. “Shit, you’re gonna be filling this kid’s fantasies for weeks. He’s probably gettin’ off to you right now.” His cock gets bigger inside you; his hips grind against you harder. “But your pussy’s mine, angel. Got that?”

You nod, delirious.

And, fuck, he just doesn’t stop talking. “You gonna cum?” he asks, fingers moving faster over your clit. “Gonna cum from thinking about Deku and his intern listening to me fuck you?” You shudder and gasp, shoving yourself back on his cock in a weak attempt to match his brutal pace. “That’s it, baby, cum on my fat cock. Let everyone know who’s making you feel so good. I wanna hear you scream so fucking loud that everyone in this goddamn building knows my name.”

Bakugou pinches your clit. Your eyes slam shut, body locking up as he throws you into another powerful climax. “Katsuki!” you shriek, his name ripping from your throat in a raw scream.

This time, he doesn’t hold himself back. A series of harsh thrusts drag out your orgasm until you’re sobbing, a few tears slipping out and rolling down your cheeks. His cock twitches, swelling, and he shoves inside of you as deep as he can go before cumming inside you, his thick seed filling you up and dripping down your thigh.

He doesn’t pull out, leaning his head against your shoulder as you both try and catch your breath. Bliss washes over you as he kisses your neck, mumbling a string of garbled praises against your ear.

You blush when something he said hits you full force, finally able to process it now that he’s not fucking you senseless. “Midoriya,” you gasp, trying to crane your head around to look at him.

Bakugou presses more of his weight against your back, slowly lowering your leg back to the floor. His hands grasp your hips when your legs threaten to collapse beneath you. “Bastards office is on the other wall,” he says, calming you down. “‘Sides, it’s his day off.”

Relief floods through you. “You have absolutely no filter, do you?”

He shrugs, kissing across your cheek. “I don’t see you complainin’.”

You laugh a little breathlessly. “You made me cum twice,” you remind him. “I don’t give a shit what you were saying.” You shift in his embrace, wincing as his cock moves inside you. Fuck, you’re sensitive.

He stills you. “The fuck do you think you’re doing?” he asks. When he sees your obviously confused look, he gives you a shallow thrust, his cock still hard inside you. “Oh, angel, we’ve still got thirty minutes, right? We’re just getting started.”

[bunnygirlkate]

Truth or Dare: Tokoyami x reader

Genre: Fluff (but with sexually suggestive themes)

~1.9k words

Setting: you're in the UA dorms with the rest of your classmates just hanging around, watching videos, playing cards, etc. It's after dinner but too early for bed.

"Guuuyysss! I'm so boorrreeddd" groans Mina. I wanna play a game, something we can all play!

"I'm down for a game, what should we play?" asks Sero. "How about truth or dare?" says Mineta, with an eyebrow raised and that annoying sexually suggestive tone in his voice. Tsu, Ochaco, and Jiro scoff at him, knowing he's thinking something perverted. "Actually… that’s not a bad idea, it could be fun" Mina says. Mineta nods and smirks. He's about to say something but Ochaco jumps in first:

"I’m fine with that, but only if we play a pg-13 version…". 

Everyone in the common area shrugs in agreement, with the exception of Mineta who looks defeated.

 "I'm not usually one to take part in such social games, however, I've got nothing better to do since Shoji and I ran out of card games. I shall join just this once" says Tokoyami.

You like the idea of playing truth or dare, but you're a little nervous. You have a secret crush on Tokoyami. You two have been in the same class for a while but it wasn’t until recently that you started developing a crush on him after you two were paired up for an assignment. To avoid any awkwardness, you try to hide your feelings from him and your other classmates. You're afraid of someone asking you a truth or daring you to do something that would make you look foolish in front of him. Nevertheless, you join the circle with your classmates to play the game. Since there was so many of you (pretty much the whole class), the circle was fairly big.

"Alright" Mina says, clapping her hands together once to get everyone's attention. "Here's how we'll do this… I'll be the host, which means that I'll be asking the questions or giving out dares, but you're welcome to speak up if you come up with a really good truth or dare for someone. Once you receive your truth or dare, you must go through with it! No changing your mind or chickening out! And as Ochaco said before, everything has to be pg-13." Everyone glares at Mineta and Denki who are sitting next to each other in the circle, quietly plotting loopholes through the pg-13 rule. Everyone then nods in agreement to the rules.

Mina goes around the circle asking each person "Truth or Dare" first is Ochaco. She picks truth and Mina asks her who she thinks has the lamest quirk in the class. She's reluctant to respond in fear of hurting anyone's feelings, but eventually she reveals that she thinks Aoyama's quirk is the lamest. Mina quickly goes through Hagakure, Momo, Iida, and Jiro, who all pick truth. She gets to Denki and he's the first to be brave enough to pick dare. Before Mina can talk. Jiro asks her if she can offer the dare.

"Denki, I dare you to… charge my phone!" everyone laughs while Denki, looking very unamused, takes her phone and cord to charge it.

Bakugo is next and of course he picks dare. Instead of making him do something stupid, Mina dares him to 'smile like he means it'. Bakugo is irritated by the boring request and gives a sheepish, forced smile. "Jeez dude, is like you’ve never smiled before…" says Denki, with the phone cord still in his mouth. "shut up, phone charger! I know how to smile! … I just don’t want to". Responds Bakugo, muttering under his breath toward the end. Everyone lets out a soft chuckle.

Its Shoto's turn now and he chooses truth. Again, another student besides Mina offers up a question. 

"I got one for ya, Todoroki" says Denki. "you have to answer honestly. I'm sure we've all been wondering this… do the curtains match the drapes?"

"Hey! That’s not pg-13" yells Mina.

"It’s not like I’m asking him to show us!" says Denki! "It’s just a yes or no question." he smirks. 

"Fine, I'll allow it" says Mina as she crosses her arms.

Shoto stares at Denki for a few moments then responds "I don’t think I understand the question" 

"I believe he is asking about the interior design of your home." says Iida.

"No man, he's asking if the color of your pubes matches the hair on your head" explains Kirishima. 

Shoto blushes slightly and looks down to the floor. "I don’t know why you'd want to know that, but since I'm required to respond truthfully… my pubic hair is mostly white… I think there's a few strands of red hair" he says, still looking at the floor and rubbing his neck with his hand. 

"That was a bit more truth then I was asking for, but okay!" says Denki. 

Shoto looks around the circle to see averted eyes and slightly blushed cheeks (mostly from the girls).

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

Mina goes through a few more classmates before she gets to you. "Truth or Dare, Y/N?" 

"I'll try a dare" you say, after seeing that the previous dares weren't so bad and the truths were getting a bit to invasive for you.

"Sure thing, but I gotta be honest, I’m getting bored of my own prompts" Mina says, throwing in a fake a yawn. "I'm gonna give you something a little more…interesting." she says with a devilish look on her face as she stares you right in the eyes. 

Your brow starts to sweat as you become anxious at what she may ask you to do. "Y/N, I dare you… to kiss . your. crush. " she says, spacing out the words and saying them in a slightly melodic fashion.

Your face turns beet red as you realize, not only is she asking you to kiss someone (let along the person you like!), but she's also asking you to reveal your feelings to him and everyone watching. You look at her, your mouth open in surprise. 

"You have to do it! It’s in the rules!" Mina says. 

You look down at your lap, still beet red. "I know, I know" you respond. 

You pick your head up and purposely avoid eye contact with Tokoyami, who is sitting across from you in the circle. You and your classmates sat there in silence as you tried to figure out how you were going to do this in a way that was least awkward as possible. 

You finally say "Okay, I’ll do it. But I need everyone to close their eyes, actually, cover them with your hands too so I know nobody’s peeking. While your eyes are closed I'll walk over to the person and sit in front of them. Then I'll tell you when you can look… and that’s when I'll… kiss them…". 

You look around and everyone expresses understanding in some way. Some nod, some give a thumbs up, some say ok. You make sure everyone's eyes are covered. Before you stand up to make your way over to him, you look at Tokoyami covering his eyes with both hands, sitting cross legged, slightly slouched over. So many thoughts rush through your mind as you admire him from afar.

'I can’t believe I’m about to do this. He’s so cute. How do I kiss a beak? What if he doesn’t like me? What if he thinks it’s weird that I have a crush on him!? Oh my god I can’t do this. Ugh. No. I just have to get this over with'

You finally stand up, making your way over to Tokoyami slowly and quietly so that your classmates can’t use their other senses to try and guess where you are. You quietly sit down in front of him, trying to keep your breathing light so he doesn’t sense you're there until your ready. You look at him with his eyes still covered, admiring his appearance up close. You want him to know you're there before everyone else sees. So before you tell everyone to open their eyes, you gently reach up to touch his hands that are resting on his face. His hands twitch slightly, probably because he's surprised that his hands are being touched, or surprised that your sitting in front of him. 

You take his hands into yours and move them away from his face. He opens his eyes, blinking a few times, his beak slightly gaped open. He looks you in the eyes, they're wide with surprise. Your face is still red, but you offer him a small smile. 

"Ok, you all can open your eyes now" you say.

Everyone eagerly looks toward the direction of your voice. Some look surprised, others express a mix of joy and awe. "I knew it!" Mina exclaimed. 

'So this was just a set up, huh?' You think to yourself. 

Tokoyami clears his throat "Y/N, you must be mistaken, I think you’ve got the wrong person…" he says. A bit of confidence flowed through you as you said

"No, I think I've got just the right guy.”

Someone in the circle begins chanting. "kiss, kiss, kiss!" Your eyes meet his again, silently asking for consent. Tokoyami nods to express consent, though still looking surprised. Your hand reaches up to caress and hold underneath of his beak (where his chin would be). As your face moves closer and closer to his, you both close your eyes, and you plant a firm yet gentle kiss on the tip of his beak. It was a bit more then than a peck, lasting about 3 seconds. Everyone cheers.

You end the kiss and take your hand away from his face. Tokoyami looks a bit flustered, its difficult to see him blushing, but you notice that the base of his beak is a bit brighter and slightly more orange. "I'm truly honored, Y/N" Tokoyami says in his deep voice. You give him another small smile, then make your way back to you empty spot on the other side of the circle.

The game goes on, you and Tokoyami share glances every now and then as other students answer their truths or perform their dares. Once Tokoyami's turn came around, he chose truth. 

"Tell us Tokoyami, who do you have a crush on?" asks Mina.

You were partially excited for him to say he has a crush on you, but you were also prepared to have your heart broken. There were so many other people at this school, he could have a crush on any one of them, and you two only had one true close interaction a few weeks ago.

"Well…" Tokoyami started "I'm not really the type to possess a crush on someone, but ever since I got to this school there's someone I've had my sights on". 

You listen with anticipation as he drags out his answer.

"and now I've realized that the feeling is mutual". He says, finishing his statement and giving you a short and flustered glance. 

Your heart filled with joy, although he didn’t directly answer the question by saying your name, you know he was talking about you. Many others in the circle didn’t understand, thus sitting in silence and confusion. Suddenly, Dark Shadow pops out and yells "He likes Y/N!" the class cheers for both of you again as you sit on opposite sides of the circle looking equally happy and embarrassed.

Authors Note: This is my first time writing anything like this, actually my first time writing fiction! I hope it’s acceptable.you can give feedback if you’d like.

[backtobackbakubabe]

Speak Easy Part 13

Dabi x Reader , Bakugo x Reader

Words : 3125

Masterlist

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.

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

You watched as Dabi paced in front of you as you hugged your knees to your chest. Shoto had come to sit next to you and you were grateful for his calming presence. He kept giving you a weird look and then looking at his brother. He obviously wanted to ask what was going on between the two of you, but you mouthed, “later” at him and he shrugged it off.

“Ok. So what? He has a list of my safe houses. That’s okay… That’s arguably a good thing actually.” Dabi was thinking out loud trying, and even though his voice sounded calm, you could see the way his hands balled into fists so tight his staples were pulling.

“No one knows about this place. This is the safest house out of all of them. I bought it after I left the League, it’s in the middle of nowhere, and the security is the best money can buy.” He stopped his pacing and looked at his brother, “So…”

Shoto draped a lazy arm around you and you released a tense breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. He quirked his head at his older brother, “So…? What? Why is that a good thing?”

Dabi’s eyes got this scary look. They practically glowed and you could tell whatever he was thinking probably wasn’t good. “It means we can pick them off. Set up traps for them at my other safe houses. It might take some time… we won’t know what houses they’re targeting so at first it’ll be a lot of guess work.” You could see a scheme hatching behind his eyes and for once he truly looked like a villain. “You said Bakugo was already out looking for them, right? I can meet up with him! They’re my houses after all, no one knows them better than me.”

He took off towards the bedroom mumbling something about needing to pack. Your wide eyes connected with Shoto’s, “How long before he remembers he’d have to leave me behind and panics?”

Shoto hummed, “I’d say about thirty seconds after he’s done packing.” He shrugged, “It’s not a bad plan honestly. I see he’s gotten rather attached to you lately though.”

You could hear the unspoken question and you weren’t sure you were ready to jump into that conversation just yet. It was bad enough that Katsuki knew. You shrugged and averted your eyes back to the door Dabi had disappeared behind. “We’ve gotten pretty close. You learn a lot about someone when you’re stuck in a house with them.”

“SHIT!”

Shoto sighed, “Sounds like he just remembered.”

Dabi stomped back into the living room and stopped a few feet in front of you. His stare was intense almost like he was trying to see through you. You could see his frustration growing as he battelled internally over what he should do. “I can’t leave you here by yourself… I don’t want to leave you at all. But- But I can’t take you with me either.” You could see his mind running a mile a minute trying to come up with a solution.

“You can leave me here, I’m not totally useless. I have the collar, so you can call me, check on my location and vitals and all that creepy shit.” You gestured to the younger Todoroki sitting next to you, “And I’m sure your brother and Izuku are dying to have some time to catch up. They can keep me company. Kiri too if need be.”

Dabi kneeled in front of you and laid his arms on either side of you, caging you in. “It would drive me insane leaving you here.”

You brushed your thumb over the spot between his eyes, smoothing out his worried expression. “More insane than if you stayed here and let Katsuki handle this on his own?”

His body sagged and he leaned his forehead onto your shoulder. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say it sounds like you want me to go.”

You leaned your head on his. “Of course I don’t want you to go idiot. But I hate to break it to you, I know you pretty well… And I don’t think sitting here day after day listening to you complain about how you could do it better, sounds like fun.” He groaned because he knew you were right. “So, go ahead and go. I’ll be fine here I promise. Go catch some bad guys with Katsuki.”

“Ugh don’t say it like that. You make is sound like a cheesy buddy cop movie. I just hope your little hero friend isn’t squeamish because I’m not going to hold back.”

Shoto cleared his throat, “Some of us… little heroes… have seen enough shit to last a lifetime. Bakugo’s the hardest working and grittiest out of us all, so believe me when I say you don’t need to worry about him.”

Dabi narrowed his eyes at his brother who he had just realized was practically cuddling with you. “Seeing death and dealing it out are two different things. I know he’s capable of killing someone, but mentally I don’t think he could cross that line.” He held a hand up to stop Shoto from arguing with him. “And I don’t care if he doesn’t want to get his precious hero hands dirty. Because that’s what I’m here for, and I’m honestly looking forward to it.”

You huffed, “Listen, I really don’t like the look you get when you talk about killing people. It’s sick… killing isn’t supposed to be fun you psychopath.”

His eyes shifted back to yours, “Baby girl. I want to make something clear. I will find the sick fucks that kidnapped you. I will torture them in the most painful and humiliating ways possible. By the time I’m done… they will welcome death with open arms. I’ll be doing them a favor.” His forehead pressed against yours. “Unless you’d rather I save them for you…My destroyer of men.”

You hit his shoulder, “I’d rather you let Katsuki arrest them! You know how I feel about killing villains.”

His hand gripped the back of your neck hard to force you to look at him, “…No. You know I can’t do that. The sooner you accept that, the easier all of this will be.” His thumb rubbed your cheek, “I know it sucks. But this is the world you live in now. We can’t trust anyone but ourselves.”

Shoto cleared his throat, “Listen I don’t know what is going on between the two of you, but I would appreciate it if you refrained from being kinky in my presence.”

Dabi growled, “Fuck off! You literally let yourself in unannounced… When all of this over I swear we’re leaving the fucking country. I’m so sick of you brats just coming over whenever you feel like it. We’re gonna leave and you’ll never see us again.”

Shoto quirked an eyebrow, “So… Even after all of this is resolved… you plan to still live with y/n?” You could see the gears turning in his head as he pieced all of this together. “Hmm interesting.” He got up and stretched. “Well I guess I’ll give you guys some alone time to… do whatever this is… just without me having to witness it.”

“Hey before you go… You sure you’re okay with keeping an eye on her while I’m gone?” You hadn’t heard Dabi sound so uncertain before. Usually he carried so much confidence that it was overwhelming. But now he sounded lost.

Shoto nodded, “Yeah it’s not a big deal. Izuku and I can take shifts. Kirishima will probably take over every now and then depending on how long you are gone… But we don’t mind. Y/n was right when she said we’d like to catch up with her.” He gave you an awkward wink that was completely out of character for him. “You’ve been hoarding her all to yourself for months now.” He walked down the hall and shouted, “Try not to be too loud. I’ll just pick the room that smells the least like sex.”

“Good luck! I’ve fucked her on every surface of the hou—” You slammed a hand over Dabi’s mouth to cut him off.

You hid your face in Dabi’s shoulder to stifle your laugh. “I love your brother so much. He has no filter and it’s honestly so refreshing.”

A quick slap to your thigh had you gasping, “I don’t appreciate you talking about my brother that way.” He nipped at your earlobe harshly, “Especially after I just agreed to let him stay here while I’m gone.”

Before you could respond he was standing up and throwing you over his shoulder, “I think I need to remind you who you fucking belong to.” He slapped your ass as you shrieked, “I might be gone for a while, so I think I need to give you something to remember.”

“You are so ridiculous! He’s literally in a committed relationship with another man!”

Dabi tossed you onto his bed and immediately fell on top of you. “He’s also my brother and I know that slut swings both ways.” He bit down hard on your shoulder, “I’m going to leave my fucking mark all over you before I go.” He sucked a bruise into your neck, “Tonight… I’m going to claim every fucking inch of you.”

He had you naked underneath him within seconds, kissing down the column of your neck. He continued down to suck a nipple into his mouth and you had to bite down on your lip to keep from screaming.

“Come on baby, let him hear you. Let him hear how good I treat you. Let him know that there is only one Todoroki for you.”

You wanted to argue with him. There was no way Shoto was interested in you at all. He’d been in love with Izuku since high school. But you were also enjoying the way Dabi was marking his territory. There was something so peaceful about giving up control to another person, especially someone you trust.

You let him kiss and suck and grope every part of you. In this moment you were his to do with as he wished. You didn’t care he was leaving mark after mark on your skin. He was claiming you, he was daring others to lay a finger on what it is his. And you fucking loved it. You loved the peace and the comfort that came with the idea of him declaring that you are his. The security of knowing he wouldn’t let another soul touch you.

He bit harshly into your inner thigh, making you yelp and buck your hips.

He chuckled darkly as he came back up and rubbed his nose against yours. “Baby girl, just look at your face. I haven’t even touched your pussy yet and you already looked so fucked out.” He dragged his fingers lightly over your stomach, across your ribs, over your breast, and finally let them settle on your neck.

You shivered and closed your eyes, “Dabiiii, stop teasing me.”

His fingers tightened around your throat. “You said some shit earlier that really got under my skin. And now I can’t decide if I should punish you or not.”

Your head spun as it tried to think about what you possibly could have said to upset him. “What – what did I say?”

Dabi leaned in sucking your bottom lip into his mouth before biting down hard. “You said…. You loved my brother.”

Your heart pounded in your chest and you felt an intense heart overwhelm your face and neck. Was he saying what you thought he was saying? Was he jealous? Did he want you to say you loved him? Is that really what he wanted to hear?

You hadn’t noticed him pulling his own pants down until he was thrusting into you. “I’m a selfish man y/n. I’m greedy. I don’t share. And hearing those sweet little words said about someone else.” His hips snapped into yours harder, as his fingers got even tighter around your neck to the point where you were sure there would be bruises.

His pace picked up and you could feel the sweat dripping from his forehead, “I wanna hear you say it. Who do you love?”

Your eyes rolled back as you croaked out a horse “you”

“That’s not good enough doll. I said! WHO do you FUCKIN LOVE?”

His fingers let go of your throat and as intense pleasure washed over you, leaving your legs shaking, “YOU!”

He fucked you through your orgasm before he followed right behind you, “That’s what I fuckin thought.”

He only parted with you long enough to clean the two of you up. He wandered to the bathroom to get a warm, wet towel. You hummed contently as rubbed it all over your body, especially over the sore new marks he had made on your skin. When he was satisfied, he tossed the rag to the floor to deal with later and rejoined you in bed. He pulled you to him, your back to his chest, and let out a huge sigh. “I’m really nervous about leaving you here. And it honestly makes me angry. I’ve never cared about another person like this, hell I’ve never even cared about my own well being this much.” You could feel him resting his chin on your shoulder, “It makes me feel weak and I hate it.”

You intertwined your fingers with his that were wrapped around your middle. “You know what they say about bravery right? Bravery isn’t not being scared. Only stupid people aren’t scared of anything. Bravery is being scared of something and doing it anyway.” You sank further into his embrace. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m scared too. Which is equally as frustrating.”

You could feel him kiss your shoulder, encouraging you to continue. “I used to be incredibly independent. I lived alone, I worked alone, because of the classified nature of my job I was pretty isolated. I didn’t need anyone, and I was more than happy to get shit done on my own…Now the thought doing anything without you gives me anxiety.”

He sighed, “If anything that makes me feel worse… I believe we have a classic case of codependency… it’s your fault by the way. For sucking me in to your annoyingly needy arms.”

“Says the guy who has his arms currently wrapped around me like a vice.” You wanted to stay in this sweet moment. He was never this open with you, never this soft. “And even though it’s not my fault, I will admit that I did kind of need you for everything when I first got here.” You felt his chest rumble with silent laughter. “But you never really complained, did you? To be honest I had thought you would have been… I don’t know… a little more… cold I guess.”

His hands heated up as they rubbed circles into your stomach. “To anyone else I definitely would have been.” He turned you around so he could pull your chest to his and rolled onto his back, tucking your head under his chin. “I was fucking toast the second you fell into my arms though.” He groaned, “UGH! I sound like such a pussy. I hate it.”

You pressed several kisses to his chest, “Well I don’t hate it.”

There was a long stretch of silence in which the two of you just held each other, not wanting to burst your bubble.

Dabi cleared his throat and you knew he wanted to talk about it. “Listen… While I’m gone all of the laws are still valid. You still need to take care of yourself. Just because I’m not here to force you to eat lunch doesn’t mean you don’t have to.” His fingers rubbed up and down your spine. “I’m sure if you ask the guys, they’ll work out with you, but they need to keep their filthy hands to themselves.” His hand stopped at your collar, “And as much I hate saying this. Don’t call me.”

You lifted your head and gave him a confused look, “What? You worried your side chicks will hear?”

He reached down and slapped your ass, “Shut up. I literally live with you and we never leave the house. That jokes not even funny.” His hand started to rub the same spot he had just slapped, “I’m being serious though. I don’t want you to call me. If something happens and they get my phone, or hell if they somehow capture me, I don’t want anything tying me to you. Shigaraki suspects you’re with me otherwise he wouldn’t be going through my safe houses. But he doesn’t know you’re with me, and I want to keep it that way.” His voice got quitter as he mumbled into your hair, “Besides… I think if I heard your voice I’d give up and come home.”

You froze, “Okay, that is officially the softest thing you’ve ever said to me… and I love it.”

He growled low in your ear, “That’s it, I’m going to start calling you whore, and making you call me sir. I’m losing my damn edge.”

You just giggled, knowing he was bluffing, but then again… he did get you a collar.

“I’m going to miss you… sir.”

“I’m gonna miss you too… my special little whore.”

You sarcastically beamed at him, “Aww you think I’m special?”

That night, you barley slept. You were so worried he’d leave without waking you up to say bye. So, as a consequence you woke up several times throughout the night and every time, he’d pull you closer and mumble a sleepy “still here.”

When morning finally came you sat on the bed with your kneed tucked under your chin as you watched him finish getting ready. Your eyes followed him as he walked around the room, taking his time. He knew the sooner he got dressed the sooner he’d have to leave.

Finally, when he had no other choice, he laced his boots up and looked at you. “Come here…” He held his arms out to you and you quickly slid into his embrace. “You be a good girl while I’m gone, okay?” He kissed the top of your head. “Listen to Shoto and try not to give him too much shit. Follow the laws, don’t watch any of our shows while I’m gone, if there’s any big emergencies have one of the guys call Bakugo.”

You nodded and looked up into his bright blue eyes, “You be safe, and don’t do anything stupid. Come back preferably in one piece please.”

He chuckled, “I will do my best doll.”

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

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@bestgirlb @silver-stardrop@bakubby99 @squichymochi

[turtle-go-brrrr]

4 times Leonardo was a dork and the time he wasn’t

Heya! I adore the "strong stoic character does something embarrassing or dumb" trope, and Leo has been left behing from that one. Also, my fervent Leo Simp Friend said these were all good ideas and I trust his judgment completely, so it's also for him. Enjoy, you Dork-ass Looser (affectionate) @weird-flex-but-ok

I have one of these "4 times ______ and 1 time ______" stories for each of them, I just got really inspired by him all of a sudden. But they're coming!

There might be a few typos here and there, but I really don't wanna wait any longer to post it :3

Requested: No

Pairing: None, platonic

Word count: 2500 +

Triggers: cursing, injuries, blood, intrusion

Summary: You were always sort of intimidated by the leader in blue, but a series of events shows you he might not be as serious as he wants you to think.

__________________________________________

First time

It took you a while to get along with all of them.

Not because you didn't trust them, or because they made it difficult, and certainly not because they're mutants. You're just not that good with new people, and you tend to shy away. Especially when you have New York's heroes in front of you.

So yeah. It took a while. But soon enough, you warmed up to your new friends, and you had a great time. Mikey was the first who made you feel welcomed, always asking questions about you and insisting you came to the lair in the first place. Donnie followed soon, after you started asking about what he was working on. It took a bit more work to get closer to Raph, but it turns out sarcasm was the way to go.

If only their leader was as approachable.

He never made you feel unsafe or unwelcomed, don’t get me wrong, he just kept a professional distance with you, which started to become quite painful as time went on. You tried not to take it personally, thinking he maybe was as shy as you were.

You had time anyway.

It was early in the evening when you made your way to the lair. For the first time since you met the turtles, you went there alone. You were a little nervous, thinking you might get lost in the maze of tunnels under the city, but figured you could just call someone if anything happened. Lucky for you, you found your way to your friend’s place, but not without hustle.

As you entered, you realized it was uncharacteristically quiet. The only sounds you could here were the faint music and the not so faint curses from Donatello’s lab. The smart decision seemed to be leave him alone, which is exactly what you did.

You haven’t been here long enough to know where to find the others, and as you didn’t exactly felt like staying alone in the living space, you tried finding your way to the dojo, as it was one of the other places you knew well.

Of course, now you got lost. Venturing into the sewers was fine, but walking into your friend's home wasn't, apparently.

You found something else, however. This particular tunnel led to a room you could identify as someone's room. You could see the large bed in the middle of the room, a small table with a bottle of water, a book, and a makeshift alarm. A set of twin swords were hanging on the right wall, just above a small bookshelf.

On your left was another table with a (healthy, you noted) bonsai tree, and next to that was Leonardo, facing a mirror. He had his right arm lifted up to his head, and was looking right to you through the mirror.

He looked absolutely horrified.

What the fuck.

He slowly rubbed his face in his hands, let out a long sigh, and turned to you, more tense than you've ever seen him. He cleared his throat as you pince your lips in a thin line to hold back a smile.

"Hello, Y/N. I... didnt think you'd come in so early."

Despite the badly lit room, you can see him bite the inside of his cheek.

"Yeah, uh, I didnt mean to... interrupt you," you say. Your voice is slightly shaking as it takes all of your willpower not to burst out laughing. And he definitely notices.

"You didn't! I uh, wasn't doing anything anyway. So, tell me- what brings you to the lair?" He asks, avoiding your eyes.

"Oh, Mikey invited me, he said I wasnt allowed to skip on movie night. You know how strong willed he is," you smirks, unable to handle it much longer.

Stiff as a board, you see the corner of his mouth twitching and hear him whisper, "... I wasn't flexing."

Silence.

You snort laugh hard enough to choke on it as you quickly turn around to hold yourself against the wall, the insanity of the situation crashing on you. Leo sat at the foot of his bed, head in his hands, and you could see him shake in repressed laughter once you wiped your tears away.

You sit next to him after finally calming down from the hysteria. He sighs, straightens his back and gives you a side glance.

"I'm not judging."

"You're still laughing, though."

"Yeah, but like, I guess I just wasn't expecting that. Still not judging."

He nods, still smiling. His voice is at least 3 octaves higher when he asks, "Please, don't tell the others."

"And what, give them the privilege of knowing about your little... ritual? Nah, don't worry about it."

_______________________

Second time

The second time your assumptions about the leader were subverted happended only two weeks after the... incident.

You had invited the whole crew to your place for the very first time, and they were all excited to come. You made a copious dinner: a few veggie cakes, chicken wings and a bowl of roasted potatoes. They were supposed to bring the drinks and movies, and April and Casey were in charge of the desert.

A perfect night, it seemed.

And it would have been if they could decide what to watch first without jumping at each other's throats.

"You guys need to grow up."

"Leave me out of thi-"

"Donnie's suggesting Velocipastor of all things and you think we need to grow up? Come on, Y/N, I thought you were better than that."

"Okay, first of all, how dare you. And second, this movie's a masterpie-"

"Yeah, because everyone knows that his supremior intellect means he's the only one who gets to choose a dumb movie. Why won't you guys watch Sharknado?"

"Supremior isn't a word. And it's because unlike you, peasants, I have taste." A devilish smile creeps up Donnie's face. The bastard is doing it on purpose.

"Peasants?!"

"You ugly-ass son of a-"

"Hey! Leave Dad out of this!"

"We could watch Shrek instead?"

You decided to go get some glasses in the kitchen, leaving the children to their stupid fight. Searching through your cupboard, you hear a crashing sound, quickly followed by utter and complete silence.

Oh no.

In insight, leaving them alone was maybe not the best idea. You were reconsidering bringing glasses into the mess as you made your way to the origin of the sound. And what a mess it was.

Your friends were all expressing shock in some way, Casey (surprisingly) being the most dramatic of them all with his hands right in front of his face and his jaw hanging open. They were all looking back and forth between you and another direction near the table.

The really cool bowl that held the delicious potatoes you made was broken on the floor. There was glass and potatoes everywhere, but the biggest shards were in a neat pile, right behind Leonardo, who looked like a deer in headlights.

"... nothing happended."

"I'm... starting to think it's a habit of yours," you say as you watch him not so discretely try to hide the broken pieces behind his foot.

"Look, if you keep putting your foot in there you're gonna hurt yourself. Just, step away a bit, will you?"

"I'm sorry I broke it. Let me help you clean up, I don't want you to cut yourself."

"It's okay! Don't touch it, I'll get a bag," you say as he starts to gather the biggest shards.

Won't even listen for one second, will he?

Raph was already picking up the untouched potatoes to put them in the plates on the table, and April went to the kitchen with you to retrieve the bag and cleaning supplies.

"Ew, Mikey don't eat that."

"Thirty seconds rule, baby."

"It's five seconds, you moron. And it's way over thirty anyway. Spit it out."

The rest of the night went on without further issues, but Leo still looked apologetic during the movie. Which is probably why he was standing before you as his brothers were leaving.

"Thank you for the evening. And I'm... sorry again for the bowl."

"Hey it's okay, man. Don't worry about it. As long as no one gets hurt it's not that big of a deal."

"I'll get you a new one." He doesn't wait for your answer and ruffles your hair before taking off.

"Text me when you guys get home!" You scream into the night, hoping one of them heard you.

______________________

Third time

It's surprisingly easy to mess with Fearless.

You were in the living room, getting your ass beat on Mario Kart by Mikey, when you decided to take a break for your stomach (and ego)’s sake. You made your way to the kitchen, where Leo and Raph were in a heated discussion. Raph looked

“I’m telling you, 4 inches is too small. What do you get from 4 inches ? Nothing. But 10 inches ? It really makes you feel something.”

…

What?

You looked down on the table and saw multiple ingredients lined up on the table, with a long piece of bread on the side.

Oh, sandwiches. Got it.

Leo’s back was facing you, but Raph gave you a knowing glance, one that said ‘do it’. So, you did. Not without a smirk, first.

“Oh, wow, Leo ! I didn’t think you’d be so open about that kind of conversations.” You open the fridge, hoping you can hide your smile behind the door.

“What ? What do you m-” His face falls. Raph starts chuckling next to you and it looks like Leo’s brain is rebooting. 

“I mean, I’m not judging. You do you, buddy, I’m happy for you. Just surprised you choose lunch time to talk about it.” And in other circumstances, you’d mean every word. But right now, messing with your friend is too good to pass on.

“No, hold on- I didnt mean- It’s not what you think ! I’m talking about sandwiches !” He tries to show you the ingredients currently on the table, but Raph decides it’s time to join the fun.

“Lying isn’t vey Bushido of you, Honor Boy,” he winks at you and you can’t repress a giggle.

He puts his face in his hands, knowing very well that the both of you ganged up on him but unable to save face. He just smiles, goes back on his chair and hides his head in his arms, hoping you won’t see how embarassed you made him.

“Hey, you like what you like. Have fun with your sandwiches.” You give him an innocent smile, pat him twice on the shoulder, and join Mikey back on the couch with a plate of grapes.

You could hear Raph’s light chuckle from the kitchen.

______________________

Fourth time

Mornings are hard.

And they’re even worse when you spent the whole night sewing an arm back together after a sword gave it a nasty cut. And getting glass shards off of your friend’s shell. And putting a bone back in it’s rightful place after a particularly bad fall.

Yeah. Long night. And a tense one, too.

Because with the physical pain came the chock and residual fears, the anger and blaming. Everyone was stil on guard, and all that tension was exhausting. You barely slept, too worried that one of your friend’s state would degrade if you didn’t keep an eye on them at all times. Which didn’t really help you get the rest you needed.

If you were hoping the morning would be kinder on all of you, you quickly realized that it was a mistake. While, luckily for the turles, the mutagen was already healing their physical wounds, the emotional exhaustion of the previous night was still heavy. Of all of your conscious friends, not one dared break the eerie silence.

It was weird, seeing them like this. But you couldn’t force yourself to say anything, strangely scared of what could happen. You resumed to making breakfast for everyone and bringing clean towels to the still sleeping feverish turtle in the medbay. Splinter and Mikey were at the kitchen table, quietly accepting your offering, when Leo came into the room from the medbay.

He was still half asleep, and in his drowsiness didn’t see the wall he accidentally ran into.

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t see you there.”

Everyone turned to Leo, who it took a solid minute of staring blindly at the wall to realize what just happened.

Donnie was the first to laugh. It didn’t take long for april and Mikey to join, soon followed by Splinter affectionately patting his son’s arm. Leo smiled and shook his head, as their lighthearted laugh was contagious.

The leader in blue was more of a goofball than what you first expected, and you were grateful for it in the fading tensions of the morning.

______________________

One time he wasn't

When someone intrudes your home, especially at 4 am when you were sleeping in the next room, a lot of things go through your head.

Did they take anything?

Yes. Your bag with your wallet, some cash, your credit card, your ID, and a few fidelity cards from various stores. Your laptop. A set of keys. That one blanket Raph made you (probably to carry everything without making too much noise).

Why you?

Why not? Your apartment isn't isolated, but it's not exactly on a main street either. It was probably practical for them.

Were they armed?

Who knows. Maybe. Maybe not. Probably. Statistically, most likely.

What could have happened if you had tried to confront them?

A lot of things. Maybe, if you let them know you were awake and knew what was going on, without necessarily confronting them, it would have been enough to make them run away. Or maybe there were multiple armed people, and they wouldn't hesitate to use force if necessary.

Who knows.

Can the police find this person?

Statistically? No. At least, that's what Casey told you when you asked him. Unless they got really lucky, they won't find anything.

Or at least the stuff they stole?

Again, unlikely. Unless they can trace your laptop back to the guy, or someone can give a physical description and a direction, there's not a lot they can do.

What can you do now?

Call your bank. And your insurance. And your landlord. Let them know what happened and follow their directive, they'll guide you through their procedure and help you soften the blow.

Casey was the first person you called when you woke up this night, and he was at your place within minutes with two other colleagues (the closest he could find). He spent the rest of the night reassuring you, helping you with the phone calls, asking around for witnesses, but nothing.

It's weird, feeling unsafe for the first time in a place you had called Home for years. It's disturbing. You can feel the nausea your anxiety is giving you, and a headache starts to grow at the back of your skull.

You don't really like this feeling.

So when your turtle friends dropped by the next evening without telling you and you welcomed them with a swing of your favorite pan, let's just say reactions were split.

"I can hack into your computer to find its location if you want. Wouldn't be the first time."

"What?"

"What? I mean, I didn't do it for your location last time. I know all about your search history, though."

"We're gonna have a talk about boundaries and privacy once we're done dealing with that," you sigh. You crash down on the couch next to your friend and mindlessly watch him work.

Leo comes up to you and gently nudges your shoulder. "Hey, do you have a toolbox somewhere? We brought locks to put on your door and windows. You know, just in case."

You nod, quiet, and lead him to your room where you keep most of the most useful stuff you own, including but not limited to a toolbox and a first aid kit.

Your movements were almost mechanical as you retrieved the box and handed it to him, and you decided to help him put up the locks to keep your mind occupied.

He was concerned. You looked like you were still in choc, which he could completely understand. Getting robbed is awful in itself, but getting robbed while you're sleeping in the next room? Horrific, in his mind.

He was also furious. He couldn't be there for you. This person had the nerves to go after his friend, and what if you got hurt? He wouldn't have been able to do anything about it.

He noticed he was staring when your eyes met his.

"Hey. We're gonna do whatever we can to find them. We're also gonna focus our patrols in your neighborhood for at least a few weeks, until you feel better," he puts a hand on your shoulder. "It's gonna be okay Y/N. Trust me."

You look up to him, and when you look into his eyes, you know he means it. You let your head fall against his plastron as he holds you against him, a silent promise for safety.

"Hey shorty," Raph pulls his head into the crack of the door to address you. "Wanna learn how to fight? I can turn you into a death machine."

You heard the faint "Raph, what the fuck" coming from Mikey who was still in the living room.

You gave a small laugh as you got up, Leo following you closely to the living room.

"Hey! Fighting isn't for everyone. But I could make you a really cool taser, if you want."

"What's with you and tasers?"

"They're efficient."

The bell ringed and April came in holding 4 boxes of pizza, that Mikey assisted her with as soon as she set a foot inside.

You looked around at your friends as April brandished the pizzas like a trophy while Raph and Donnie went back and forth trying to decide who, between man power and electricity, would win in a fight.

And you realized that yes, Leo was right.

It's gonna be okay.

[snowstark]

Growing Wings.

READ ON AO3 For @starkerfestivals | Fill: Mafia AU “Don’t fucking touch me,” Tony snarls, grabbing Peter’s wrists to rip them off of him. “Then don’t fucking talk,” Peter spits back. Tony growls and shoves him back, but Peter just pushes right up against him again, getting in his space. He can feel his warm breath on his face as he snarls, “You think I wanna hear your fucking voice after you left like that? Tell me why I shouldn’t just punch your lights out right now." And ouch, that kind of hurts. Tony shoves him off, jeering, “Well, you wouldn’t want to break my nose, sweetheart, we both know how much you love my pretty face.” “Yeah, enough to want to spit on it, maybe.” S.H.I.E.L.D. isn’t the worst place to work. Tony’s been there for a while now, and he gets along just fine. Then, he gets sent back to a world that he thought he’d never return to. I have now achieved a blackout, yay! Thank you to @vaguekiwi for beta'ing!

The barstools are mahogany. They blend into the red-brown wood of the bar, illuminated by the glow of lights behind the bottles. The people blend in, too—clinking glasses and flashing scars as subtle hands exchange wads of bills and tight packets of pot, mingling amidst the sharp smell of whiskey and beer between them; leather jackets that conceal switchblades and guns, hung on large shoulders and frames like bedsheets on a king-sized bed. It all paints a cohesive picture, barely anything out of place.

Except for the boy sitting at the edge of the bar. The Parker heir.

He barely looks legal. Pink cheeks, scruffy brown hair, and pretty pink lips sipping at his daiquiri. There’s a fat golden ring on his index finger. He’s dressed to fit in, but with his youthful face and frilly drink, he looks more like he’s wearing daddy’s clothes than anything.

Tony wants to ruin him.

He wants to grab him by the scruff and drag him down from the throne he’ll be stepping up to and pull him into a kiss, wants to feel the heat of his breath on his neck, wants to… buy him a drink.

“That one’s on me.” Tony pulls a chair out to sit next to the boy, and opens his mouth to order a beer when— no. “Sex on the beach,” he tells the bartender, and gets a weird look from the both of them, accompanied by a smirk lacing the boy’s lips. Otherwise, silence. He waits for his drink to be fixed before taking a sip from it, swirling the liquid in the glass loftily before saying, “Want a taste?”

“Not unless it’s from your mouth.” Parker’s voice is pretty. It reminds Tony of a mockingbird’s song, a sound of nature itself, with each word spilling from his mouth a pretty melody.

Tony lifts his eyebrows. “What, you don’t want a pretty babe to take home?”

The Parker boy pointedly takes a sip from his daiquiri.

Tony feels his lips curve into a smile. Okay. He gets it. He’s pretty sure he sees the other’s eyes crinkle a bit too at the corners. “Tony,” he finally says.

“Peter.”

As if he doesn’t know.

“Pretty name for a pretty boy. You got someone to take care of you, treat you like you’re a diamond?”

“I am a diamond.” Peter tips his head back to take the rest of his daiquiri into his mouth in one large gulp. “And I can find someone to come and make me shine whenever I want.”

“Lucky guy, finding a gem in all this dirt.” Tony keeps his attention on the ice cubes clinking in his glass. “Makes me wonder if that’s what you come here for.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Peter set his empty glass down. He swipes the tip of his index finger along the rim of the glass, then pops it between his lips to suck on it before turning to face Tony, leaning in. He lets his hands rest gingerly on Tony’s shoulder, just barely gripping as he breathes into his ear, “Why don’t we take this home, Tony?”

Tony likes the way he says his name.

He thinks he’ll like it even more when Peter’s moaning it.

He lifts his gaze to meet Peter’s. Peter doesn’t budge, only pulling back the slightest bit, nose a few inches away from Tony’s. Tony watches his eyelashes flutter with each blink. It’s like a swan taking flight, feathers fluttering in the air and daring Tony to reach up to snag one for himself—a keepsake, or a trophy.

His lips quirk up when Peter gives him a look, clearly saying, well? Tony licks the lingering taste of his drink away from his lips so he can replace it with Peter. “Think your father’ll approve?”

Tony knows he won’t. Peter knows that too.

Peter smiles. “We’ll just have to keep quiet, won’t we?” His hands slide down to fist the front of Tony’s shirt and pull him out of his seat by it.

Tony barely remembers to toss a wad of bills onto the counter before he’s guided out of the bar.

-- -- --

Tony’s in the process of sticking a piece of gum underneath the briefing table when the meeting finally ends. Fury talked for a painfully long time today. Tony’s pretty sure he even saw Rogers’ eyes close a few times, and everyone knows that if Rogers is dozing, the situation’s bad.

His left foot’s fallen asleep. He stomps it subtly a few times before getting up from his seat. The room’s clearing out now, agents talking to each other and chuckling as they shuffle through the doorway. Tony stops by the door, letting Rumlow pass through before turning to Fury, who’s now digging through a box of donuts.

“You know,” Tony says when Fury doesn’t acknowledge him, “might be good for team morale if you actually share your snacks with everyone. Oh, and you know what? We really gotta work on these outfit designs. I mean, how do you expect us to get the job done when half of us are fighting a wedgie?”

Fury’s quiet for a few moments, but it doesn’t faze Tony. Fury’s either astronomically loud or terrifyingly quiet; there’s no in between.

Finally, he speaks. “Found the meeting boring, Stark?” Fury’s eye flicks up to him as he takes a monstrous bite from the donut. It sends sprinkles raining down onto the table and floor for some poor janitor to take care of later.

“Always is, Sir,” Tony replies.

“I’ll always wonder why I let someone with the attention span of a goldfish sign up.”

“Maybe because this goldfish has brought the most innovative ideas you’ve seen in the past three decades.” Tony reaches to snag a donut from the box, but Fury slaps his hand away. It hurts.

“You know, I caught wind of something new today. Toomes.”

Tony blinks. “We don’t deal with people like him.”

He doesn’t deal with people like him. Not anymore.

Fury carries on like he hasn’t even spoken. “Word has it that the Toomes are deep in debt with the Parker family. The Parkers want to collect; you think Toomes is just gonna hand over a small fortune that easily?”

Tony feels his heart leap into his throat at the words.

Parker. Parker. Parker. He repeats the name over and over in his head, and realizes that he’s been silent for a second too long. Fury’s looking at him with a raised eyebrow as he takes a fierce bite from his donut.

“Probably not,” he manages, sounding as dumb as he feels.

Fury sucks sugar off of one of his fingers. “It’s allegedly reported that Toomes’ men are going in to get rid of their debt through unconventional means.”

“They’re not paying them off.”

Fury snorts. “Hell, no. They’re going in to get rid of the Parkers. Which includes our little asset, Rumlow. Member of the Parker family since before the boy even became kingpin, he’s been… interested in testifying against the family if it means he gets a lesser sentence to bite him in the ass later. He’s the weak link in the family, and we need him alive.” He dusts his hands off. “Barnes has already volunteered to infiltrate the Parkers at the higher levels, but we need more people to go in, hang around at their front and get them talking.”

“Best of luck to them.” Tony swallows and looks away furtively.

Fury makes a disgruntled noise in his throat. “Rogers will step in if no one else wants the gig—seems eager to, actually—but really, Stark, I’m bringing this up because I thought you might be interested.”

“Me,” Tony repeats, fighting back the urge to swallow. His mind jumps to skin on skin, fingers lacing together amongst soft silky bed sheets.

“Sure.” Fury shrugs. “You think fast on your feet, and you know how to get out of sticky situations if anything goes south. You know it’s not every day that I offer an agent a job like this—it’s your chance to prove yourself, Stark.”

Tony sucks the inside of his cheek.

“We only need someone to watch Barnes’ back, sit around the area and report back if there’s an issue. It should be easy for someone like you, just mingling with the associates of the family, indulging in their favourite hobbies, bonding, you know how it goes.”

Does he?

“I…” Tony trails off. His eyes flick down to the box of donuts, lingering there for a few moments. Fury actually nudges it open for him, like it’s positive reinforcement for considering the gig. “Can I tell you my decision tomorrow?”

Fury grunts.

Tony takes that as a ‘yes’ and hurries out before Fury can say anything else.

-- -- --

It still smells the same, Tony realizes. Leather and alcohol accompanied by raucous laughter and cigarettes and money. It feels the same, too. The barstools haven’t changed, except the leather is cracked now. He runs his fingers over it. It’s like a scar, if someone ripped off a wing and let the flesh mould over with new skin.

He orders himself a drink. The bartender makes quick work of it and Tony gives her a nod of thanks before taking it from her. At least it’s not the same bartender.

It only takes him a few minutes to empty the glass. He signals for another, then turns ever so slightly to side-eye the big hunk of meat next to him. It’s not a face that he recognizes, and he’s not sure if he’s more disappointed or relieved by that fact.

Probably relieved.

“Long day?” he sighs, knowing as soon as the words come out of his mouth that it’s a stupid thing to say. It sounds green, sounds like two suburban dads at the bar of a family restaurant.

Tony gets completely ignored for his trouble. Okay, fair enough. He’s gotten rusty—which is good, he reminds himself.

He needs another drink.

He downs it in a few big swallows, which catches the attention of a couple people in the bar. He gulps past the burn and it means his voice rasps a bit when he tries again. “I had a run last night up on 116th, got jumped by like, ten guys.” He hesitates before adding, “I think they were with Toomes or something.”

He gets a few more eyes, and some heads tilting in his direction. Okay, interest. No engagement yet, but that’s okay.

Tony’s grip tightens around the glass in his hand and he plunges ahead. “Heard they’re gonna take a run at us about their debt to—” don’t say his name, he could at least pretend that wasn’t real right now “—to the boss. Think your head’ll be one of the ones they cut off?”

That gets the big guy to turn to him, a scowl on his face. “Toomes would be lucky to snip even one lock of my hair,” he growls. And, admittedly, the man has great hair.

“Hey, new guy!” Five others have swivelled in their seats, and one has his eyes fixed on Tony. “Toomes really planning something against the family?”

Tony smirks triumphantly and motions toward the bartender. “I’ll tell you all about it, friends. Drinks are on me.”

-- -- --

Peter lets out a soft yelp as Tony practically tackles him onto the bed, dragging him into a kiss. Peter’s fingers fumble as he yanks off his jacket and shirt, moaning against his lips, and Tony helps him out of them. He hears the sound of Peter’s pants dropping to the floor and his lips part in anticipation. It’s exhilarating to take apart Peter’s exterior piece by piece to reveal what’s inside, to take it for himself and ravish it.

“That hurts, you asshole,” Peter laughs as Tony nips from his jaw to his collarbone. Tony ignores him, just sucking a mark onto the pale expanse of skin right above his collarbone, and then twisting to kiss Peter.

Peter gasps into the kiss, and Tony swallows his noises up hungrily like his life depends on it. Peter gives a small whine and pushes him. Tony falls back onto the bed with a confused noise, propping himself up on his elbow. “What?” he pants. “You don’t— is something wrong?”

“No, ‘s just—” Peter licks his lips, cheeks flushed bashfully now. “You still have your shirt on.”

“Huh?” Tony looks down and feels a small smile tugging at his lips at the realization that Peter’s right. “Oh.” He swipes his hair back with a hand, flustered, and Peter bursts into laughter.

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you,” Peter tells him teasingly, already reaching forward. He makes quick work of Tony’s clothes with clumsy, eager fingers, yanking and tugging at buttons and zippers before copying Tony’s actions from earlier, dusting a few kisses onto his jaw. Tony tips his head back, eyes fluttering shut again, settling back into that warm, fuzzy place in his head where everything he can feel and see and smell and taste is Peter.

Peter’s touches are more hesitant than his, less experienced, maybe. It makes him wonder if Peter’s ever really done more than make out with someone, or if he’s ever even been in bed with another guy.

His suspicions are confirmed when Peter pulls back the slightest bit and whispers, “Is this okay?” as he lets a hand slip down, eyes flicking up to his face uncertainly.

He’s younger than Tony; they’re both young, but Tony likes the idea of teaching Peter from scratch, moulding him from untouched putty to a sinning angel, claiming what’s his. He gives a small smile through half-lidded eyes. “Yeah,” he breathes, “you’re more than okay.”

It’s like the words settle the apprehension in Peter, because he relaxes, tense shoulders dropping in what’s probably relief. Tony doesn’t like the idea of Peter worrying when he’s supposed to be enjoying, so he just grabs him and flips him over, eliciting a surprised, “Oof!” from him. He grinds down on Peter, watching delightedly as Peter lets out an obscene moan, and he clamps a hand over his mouth.

“Thought you said we gotta stay quiet,” he whispers.

Peter licks the palm of his hand to coax it off of him. “We are quiet.”

“Not you,” Tony teases.

Peter scowls. “Fuck off.”

Tony kisses the pouty look off of his face. It slides away easily once his lips are slotted against Peter’s, wet and sloppy.

And then Peter surges up in a bout of energy, and Tony falls back with a surprised noise. “I wanna,” Peter pants as he dusts kisses on Tony’s neck, nuzzling and nipping, “I wanna— I want you to make me—”

Peter steals his breath from him with each kiss until his chest is tight and Tony has to push him away the slightest bit to gasp, “Your father— last chance to—”

Neither of them give a shit about Peter’s father. It’s foreplay at best, now. The thrill of getting caught, the feeling of ecstasy as they touch what’s forbidden, snagging an apple from the garden, it only urges them on like fuel added to fire.

“Still in the family, aren’t you?” Peter plays along, hands sliding down to Tony’s hips. “Least you’re not a fed.”

Tony barks out a laugh. “Yeah, yeah,” he agrees breathlessly. “Least ‘m not a fed.”

And then he takes Peter for himself, drinking in every little noise he makes as hunger ravishes his body, basking in the dove’s pretty noises.

-- -- --

“Another one!”

They all burst into laughter as the big blond guy—Thor, apparently—smashes his glass on the floor of the bar. The bartender rolls her eyes. Broken kitchenware isn’t a scarcity with Thor around here.

Tony’s not drunk. He’s spilled a couple of drinks instead of downing them, and he’s been sneaking refills of water instead of alcohol when he can. And, he can hold his liquor well. He’s not willing to risk his job to indulge himself.

He has, however, gotten the others to drink their fair share. They’re red-faced and all they can do is roar with laughter. It reminds him of how he used to do this too, come into the bar and share a drink or two before rushing off to press his lips to fair skin as hands push through his hair. For a split second, he feels a pang of longing in his chest.

He instantly forgets about it when Thor claps him on the chest. “Our— Our heads!” he booms, then snorts. “Toomes better watch out; we could step on ‘im even like this, crush his puny skull with our boots.”

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself,” another guy snorts, elbowing Thor in the side. “Don’t you ‘member what happened last time? Parker had a nosebleed for days.”

The words make Tony jerk in his seat before he even realizes it, and then he turns back around. “Yeah, yeah, Rumlow better watch out, heard he’s a popular target,” he chuckles in an effort to regain his composure, lifting his hand to signal for another drink.

“Rumlow?” An unfamiliar voice sounds and they all turn around.

It’s another face that Tony doesn’t recognize, and it makes him realize once again just how long it’s actually been since he was last here. He takes a quiet sip from his drink, and the guy narrows his eyes at Tony.

Maybe he’s been here too long. He wants to check his watch, but he refrains.

“Rumlow ain’t here,” the guy says. He doesn’t budge, preventing Tony from sliding out of his seat. “Boss sent him to Siberia two days ago. I would know, ‘m his partner.”

One of the guys snorts. “You sure, Rollins? Last I heard, you two went through a little break-up. Did he dump you, or was it the other way around, big guy?”

There’s a loud cracking noise, and the guy falls off his seat, clutching a bloody nose. “Jesus fuck!”

They have the attention of the whole bar now, and yep, this has officially gone downhill. Like, to the depths of the earth, to the underworld where Hades resides type of bad. Tony can feel the palms of his hands getting sweaty.

Rollins gives Tony a lingering look. “What did you say your name was?”

Fuck. And that’s his cue to leave.

He tosses a wad of bills onto the counter, then says, “I gotta get home.”

“He didn’t say his name.” It’s Thor now, staring at Tony with wide, suspicious eyes now.

Tony would rather not get into a fight with Thor, or any of the guys here, really. They’re all massive.

He needs to get the fuck out of here and go straight to Fury to ask him what the hell is going on, because what does Rolllins mean Rumlow is in fucking Siberia?

“You need to see the boss,” Rollins says, and that’s the only warning Tony gets before the front of his shirt is roughly snatched in a massive paw.

“Whoa, whoa, big guy, I’m sorry—my name’s Anthony Howard; didn’t mean anything by it; just heard stuff about Toomes. Look, I really do gotta get home—”

And then Rollins yanks, making him trip forwards, and then there are hands gripping his shoulders and his wrists are being yanked behind his back like he’s getting arrested. He’s dragged off, and he prays that whoever the boss is, it’s not him.

But he knows that it is, and there’s no way he can avoid it now.

-- -- --

Tony’s there when Peter’s father is gutted like a fish.

He wraps his arms around the boy, letting him scream and cry until he’s exhausted, throat raw and scratchy from how hard he’s worked it. His cries sound more like the shrieks of a crow by the end of it, and Tony runs a hand down his spine in an effort to soothe him.

“You’re okay,” he says, voice low, and Peter shudders and shakes his head in a small, jerky movement. He doesn’t believe it yet, but Tony knows he will be.

He doesn’t stop to wonder whether they’ll be alright.

He’s there when Peter steps up.

He’s there when Peter rules like the king he was meant to be.

He’s there when Peter ruthlessly rips off the wings of the mockingbird inside himself to lock them up in a cage and leave them to rot. He’s there when Peter transforms into an eagle, a bird of prey; he’s there when Peter stops singing.

Until one night, he’s not there. He’s slipping out of the compound, silent as a field mouse running away from an eagle under the gaze of the silver moonlight.

And he’s not there when Peter wakes up.

-- -- --

At first glance, Tony thinks Peter looks the same. But then he takes a second look, and he sees that he’s grown a bit taller, his face isn’t as youthful, and he has a small, healed scar on his cheekbone, just a faint white line. Most people wouldn’t even notice it, but it catches Tony’s attention right away, and he hates himself for it, hates that he has the memory of Peter’s face etched into his brain.

Peter’s men don’t even get a chance to say anything, because the moment Peter’s eyes land on Tony’s face, his lip curls up and he barks, “Out!”

They fumble for a moment, like they’re not sure whether they should be dragging Tony out of the room too, but when Peter’s scowl grows, they scuttle out with their tails tucked between their legs. Tony sneers at their backs.

Peter strides forward and Tony clenches his jaw in preparation for what he knows is coming.

The moment the door slams shut, Peter flies into action. He grabs the front of Tony’s shirt and shoves him against the wall.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” Tony snarls, grabbing Peter’s wrists to rip them off of him.

“Then don’t fucking talk,” Peter spits back.

Tony growls and shoves him back, but Peter just pushes right up against him again, getting in his space. He can feel his warm breath on his face as he snarls, “You think I wanna hear your fucking voice after you left like that? Tell me why I shouldn’t just punch your lights out right now.”

And ouch, that kind of hurts. Tony shoves him off, jeering, “Well, you wouldn’t want to break my nose, sweetheart, we both know how much you love my pretty face.”

“Yeah, enough to want to spit on it, maybe.”

“You sure you don’t want me to be doing that to you? Wouldn’t get off on it, wouldn’t blow a load the moment I touch you? Happened way too much in the past, didn’t it? Don’t wanna relive those memories, honey? And this scar—” Tony reaches out, not even flinching when Peter tries to slap him away “—what happened here, huh? Fell off the swingset when Daddy wasn’t here to watch you?”

Peter pulls a face of disgust at his words, and Tony almost barks out a laugh, which would’ve incensed him more. It almost makes him wish he had; he knows how much Peter hates when he calls himself daddy. Almost as much as he hates being called kid.

Tony presses his thumb onto the scar when he gets no response, and Peter smacks his hand down to snap, “Just the result of the last guy who walked out on us. He came out a lot worse than me; should’ve done the same to you.”

“Oh, yeah?” Tony lifts his eyebrow tauntingly. “Then why didn’t you, huh? Did I wear you out too much, princess? Didn’t have it in you for round two? Should’ve known; pretty little thing like you wouldn’t have been able to handle it anyway—”

Tony falls back with a grunt when Peter tackles him, hands flying up to wrench him off. Except now he feels lips roughly mouthing at his neck. And then Peter snarls, “Get yourself out of these fucking clothes, I fucking hate you, always making shit harder.”

“Then ask nicely, kid,” Tony bites back. Peter’s head jerks at the pet name, nostrils flaring, and Tony triumphantly shoves him off enough to yank off his own shirt. He stumbles with how hard he pulls, and then there are hands that are tugging too, helping him out of it, and he grunts, “No fuckin’ patience at all, should’ve known you’d be begging to gag on my dick before you even—”

“Shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up.” Peter throws the shirt behind himself before throwing himself at Tony again.

His nails bite harshly into Tony’s skin, making him hiss between clenched teeth. “Put those damn claws away, Christ.” He shoves Peter back again and they stumble together against the wall, then fumble for another moment as Peter wrestles out of his own shirt.

The moment the shirt drops to the floor, discarded like a feather floating to the ground, Tony grabs Peter’s shoulders and manhandles him over to his desk. He manages to get him bent over it despite the kicking and thrashing that Peter puts up, but Tony knows Peter, knows that he isn’t fighting as hard as he can, knows that he wants Tony to wrestle with him. There’s also no denying the fact that despite the years that have passed and hardened them both, Tony’s still larger and stronger than Peter, and Peter loves it. Tony can see it in his eyes; he’s practically feral every time he rests his eyes on Tony.

“Remember the last time we did this?” Tony laughs roughly, pressing flush against him as he bends over, caging him in with his arms. Peter snarls and jerks his head back, but Tony easily avoids it. He pinches the back of his neck harshly in reprimand and Peter chokes, straining against him. Tony lets him gasp and heave for a moment before licking a hot, wet stripe from his neck to his ear. “You think you can scream as loudly as you did then for me right now, sweetheart?”

“Over my dead body,” Peter gasps.

“Not the biggest turn-on.” In a lightning-fast movement, Tony rips Peter’s pants off. The button goes flying and Peter hisses.

“That was expensive, you asshole!”

Tony opens his mouth to snap back, but then his breath catches in his throat at the sight of the red lace. Peter’s face has gone a shade that’s equally as bright and he snarls in Tony’s grasp.

“Ohhh,” Tony says, beginning to laugh, and it sounds mean, which only serves to aggravate Peter even more. “This is why you were fighting so hard, huh? Little prissy Parker, wearing fuckin’ panties like you have someone to strut for?”

“Shut. Up,” Peter grits out.

Tony grins, feeling a sadistic little ball of heat furling in his gut, and he leans in to breathe, “Make me,” before cracking a hand down on his ass. The sound is loud, ringing throughout the whole room, and Peter keens. He’s pushing back against Tony like he can’t help himself now, spine curving nicely in a way that makes Tony want to kiss every inch of his body.

Tony slots his hips against his ass, grinding down and letting out a low growl in his throat. “That’s right. That’s fuckin’ right. Can’t make me, can you? Bet’chu wanted this so badly, can never help yourself, can you? C’mon, little mockingbird, admit it—it doesn’t feel as good when you’re on your own, I get it, I—”

He does get it. He’s forgotten how good they are together, and years apart only riles him up further, gets him wanting more, more, more. He knows Peter feels the same, and now, he wants to hear him say it.

“Tell me you want this,” he growls, and Peter jerks in his grasp. “Tell me,” he repeats, cracking a hand down on his ass, “you want this.”

“Fuck off,” Peter grits, but Tony can hear it, the desperation and arousal in his voice.

“Tell me you want it, let me fucking hear it.” He brings his hand down in earnest, making Peter gasp. His ass turns a dusty pink as he jerks and whines in his grip. Tony can see his cock growing harder by the minute, encased by lace. “C’mon, lemme hear it, what’s the matter, kid? Cat got your tongue? No point in hiding, you know, we know you want it, probably been waiting for this moment for years now. Bet you put fuckin’ panties on every day hoping I’d see them.”

He punctuates his words with smacks, hand cracking loudly and ringing through the room, and Tony bites out, “C’mon, sweetheart, you being shy ‘cause you don’t want me to fuck you? Or are you still thinking about that time I nearly let you fuck me? That was a fucking mistake, wasn’t it? You got a hungry fuckin’ hole, you think your dick would’ve lasted more than a minute in my—”

“I want it!” Peter finally gasps, tears in his eyes. “I want it, I want it, I want you to fuck me, I want your hands on me, I want you to fucking take me, take me, fuck me—”

“Fuck!” Tony sees red. He fumbles with the zipper of his pants, yanking it down as fast as he can.

“Jerk,” Peter pants. “You’re a fucking asshole, bastard, selfish piece of shit, cock-sucking fed—mmph!” He chokes when Tony slaps a hand over his mouth.

“The mouth on you, kid, Christ!” Tony pulls back, then tears off his panties with his hands. Peter jerks from his position, rearing up again, but Tony puts a stop to whatever he’s about to do by shoving him back down with a grip on his neck. He roughly makes Peter turn his head, then mocks, “If you can’t learn to say nice things, then you shouldn’t say anything at all.”

Peter doesn’t fight him—as much as he expected him to, at least—when he balls the panties up in his hand and stuffs them into his mouth. Tony laughs when Peter’s face flushes, and he taunts, “Can’t even spit and snarl like you want to anymore, can you?” Peter jerks in his grasp again, and Tony bites his shoulder in reprimand. “‘s okay,” he says against his skin, grinning, “I gotcha.”

He brings his hand down on his ass again, admiring how pink it turns, and then starts roughly opening the drawers of his desk. His other hand is gripping Peter’s wrists behind his back, pinning him down. Peter’s breathing is raw and heavy in his throat even with the garment in his mouth, but there’s no denying how hard his dick is, and nothing delights Tony more than that.

“Lube,” he mutters impatiently under his breath, digging through the drawers. “Don’t tell me you don’t have fucking lube.”

Peter makes an indignant noise that Tony disregards.

When he finds it tucked under a stack of envelopes, he rips the small packet open. He presses his lubed fingers to Peter’s hole, and Peter jerks, then pushes back against him.

“Fuckin’ hungry for it, aren’t you?” Tony mutters as he works a finger in. “You know what hasn’t changed? How tight your fucking hole is.”

Peter moans behind the panties in his mouth, thighs shaking as Tony works him open. He’s not rough, but he’s not gentle either—just the way Peter likes it.

Tony’s pumping three fingers in and out of his hole by the time Peter makes a muffled noise. It sounds suspiciously like, “Hurry up,” but he can’t know for sure, and he doesn’t care to know either—Peter would kill him if he stopped to ask. So he just pinches Peter’s cheek, making him groan, before straightening.

He spits in his hand and brings it down to his cock, pumping it a few times. Peter twists to look at him, eyes blown and heavy, and Tony smirks. “Cock-drunk little thing,” he drawls, seeing the spark that ignites in Peter’s eyes at his words.

Tony squeezes Peter’s hip as he presses the head of his cock to his hole. It slips in easily, rim fluttering around him, and Tony hisses out a small, “Shit,” before pushing in slowly.

Peter gives a muffled moan, just taking it, and Tony pants, “Good boy,” before he lets his hips roll.

It’s slow at first, but then they pick up the pace once Peter starts making little noises in his throat, even pushing back to meet him halfway. It’s heaven to Tony, to feel Peter all around him like this, even more so when he gets to grip his hips and mark him up.

“You know,” Tony pants after a while, fingers digging into Peter’s skin hard enough to bruise, “it’s almost too boring with you so quiet. Maybe I should just—”  He reaches out, and takes the panties from his mouth.

Peter’s moans and gasps fill up the room immediately, and Tony gives him a sloppy grin in return for the glare he gets. “There we go. But I don’t want to just carry this, so let’s…” He stuffs the panties into Peter’s hand, then guides them down to his dick. “I want you to wrap your filthy panties around your filthy cock and make a fucking mess of them.”

There’s no hiding how turned on Peter is by that; his eyelashes flutter and his lips part in a silent moan. Tony snaps his hips up, and Peter moans, jumping into action. “I fucking hate you,” he pants, even as he follows Tony’s order.

Tony laughs and gives one of his cheeks another spank. “I know,” he grins, then lets his hips pick up the pace. He digs his nails into one cheek, and Peter moans so loudly that he’s pretty sure the entire fucking room shakes. “Sing any louder than that, ‘n you’re gonna have people comin’ in to see you fuckin’ impaled on my dick, crying like a kid who just found his lost stuffie,” Tony taunts in his ear.

Peter gives a snarl, but there’s no real fight in his body; he just wants Tony and they both know it.

Tony closes his eyes, head lolling back and lips parting as he works his hips fast until he’s pounding Peter’s ass hard enough to jostle his whole body. Peter mewls, fumbling as he jerks himself off, still gripping his panties in a vice-grip, and the mere sight of him nearly tips Tony over the edge.

“So— fucking— filthy—” he gasps, bending over to press as flush as he can against Peter, skin on skin, damp with sweat. He mouths at his neck and shoulders, trying to take every inch of Peter that he can.

“P-Plea— O-Oh, god, fuck, fuck—” Peter whimpers, and the sound goes straight to Tony’s cock.

Tony hisses, “Fuck, ‘m gonna—” before he interrupts himself with a loud groan that rips from his throat, raw and heavy. He lets his hips slow as he rides through the wave of ecstasy that crashes over him, only pulling out once he gets too sensitive.

Peter’s a mewling, sweaty mess over his desk, fingers scrabbling to grip something, anything. Tony slides a hand through his damp hair to pull his head back and places a hand over Peter’s, which is still working feebly over his own cock, and he says roughly, “Lemme help, kid, can’t even do it yourself, can you? Too dumb to even think, shouldn’t have expected so much from you.”

Peter keens at the words, and Tony’s pretty sure he’s drooling on his desk. Tony lets his strokes quicken, the lacy fabric of the panties sliding wetly over the head of his dick, and Peter lets out a breathy moan. “I— I— P-Please—”

“No one’s stopping you, baby, c’mon, lemme see it.” Tony leans in and licks a wet, broad stripe between his cheeks, tasting himself mingled with the taste of Peter, and then Peter’s coming with a loud wail.

He shoots strings of white over their hands and his panties, now completely ruined and sloppy, and he gives up—gives in—entirely to let Tony jack him off through it, coaxing whines and whimpers out of him.

“F-Fuck,” he gasps after a few moments, squirming to get free, and Tony cracks a hand down, keeping him there until he’s begging incoherently, blathering for Tony to fuckstoppleasekeepgoing oh god—

Tony falls back onto the floor, completely exhausted as the weight of what they just did slaps him in the face, and Peter follows suit, collapsing on top of him.

They’re quiet for a few minutes, the sound of their breaths coming in rough gasps. Erratic exhales fill up the space between them, and Tony closes his eyes as Peter turns his head the slightest bit. He starts kissing his way up Tony’s body, from his knee to his hip to his chest and his neck.

When it slows to a stop, Tony lets his head fall to the side and is shocked to find Peter’s eyes damp and glossy. “Baby,” he whispers, feeling himself go cold. He’s only ever seen Peter cry once before. “What’s wrong?”

Peter’s eyes fall shut and he shakes his head. The silence stretches out longer and Tony’s fully convinced that he’s lost his voice when Peter finally speaks. “Stay,” he croaks. He reaches out and finds Tony’s hand, then grips it tightly. “Don’t leave me.”

Not again, are the unspoken words, and Tony knows it.

Tony looks down at him to meet his shiny brown eyes, full of longing and sadness and hatred and anger and happiness and resignation. He reaches out, placing a hand on Peter’s cheek, and Peter shudders and presses into the touch.

“Baby,” he breathes. His mind feels like it’s gone blank, save for the thought of Fury, and Toomes, and S.H.I.E.L.D. He’s an agent. He’s not part of… this, anymore. He can’t be.

A tear trails down Peter’s cheek, dripping onto the crook of his finger, and Peter turns his head to smudge it. But before he can, Tony pulls back, then grips his face with both hands to pull him into a kiss. It’s a clumsy one, full of wet gasps and pained noises, before Peter kisses back, pressing closer and closer until he’s toppled over Tony.

Tony keeps his eyes closed, even when Peter pulls back, lips ghosting over his. Peter falls onto his chest, mouthing desperately at his neck, fingers lacing through his own to squeeze tightly. Tony can feel his wet cheeks pressing against his jaw.

Peter finally pulls away, and Tony opens his eyes. “Stay,” Peter whispers again, and Tony swallows over the lump in his throat. He looks down at his hand, uncurling his fingers, and sees a familiar golden ring resting in his palm. His breath catches in his throat, and he squeezes his hand into a fist tightly, feeling the gold warm up at his touch.

And then he knows he’s made his decision—or maybe there was only ever one right answer.

“Okay,” he says, and Peter falls back onto him, a silent sob wracking his body.

Tony wraps his arms around him, holding him tightly, never wanting to let go—and he doesn’t.

The feeling of holding so Peter closely is accompanied by the decision that he’s going to grow a pair of fucking wings, if only to take both him and Peter elsewhere, away from any place that isn’t just for them.

He should have known he would end up back here. He was always going to end up back home.

-- -- --

“You passed with flying colours, Stark.” Fury doesn’t even look up as he addresses him. He’s too busy making his coffee. Tony thinks he goes out of his way to never look anyone in the eye. “Makes me wonder where you learned all these skills. It’s not every day we get an applicant like you.”

Tony doesn’t say anything. Just lifts his chin.

Fury’s eye flicks up then. It’s just the slightest bit unnerving. It feels like he can see right through him, see everything that he’s been through, see where he’s come from, see the dirt and blood that remains underneath his fingernails no matter how much he scrubs them under the faucet. He wonders if the bitter smell of leather is still stuck to him, coiling through his hair to settle down like a snake in a nest. He wonders if it’ll ever leave him, wonders how many baths and showers it’ll take for him to rub himself raw, clean.

“It’s not an easy task to commit to S.H.I.E.L.D.” Fury takes a sip of his coffee and saunters closer. Tony doesn’t move. “You leave everything behind and give it all to us. S.H.I.E.L.D. can give you what you want, but in return, we demand loyalty.” He’s standing right in front of Tony now. They stay like that for a few moments, before Fury asks softly, “Are you a loyal man, Stark?”

Tony lifts his chin. “Yes.” His voice doesn’t shake, and he holds Fury’s gaze. His fingers curl into fists, and he waits with bated breath.

Finally, Fury holds a hand out, and says, “Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D, agent.”

Tony takes it, grips it tightly, and gives a jerky nod to seal his fate. “Thank you, sir.”

He’s home, and he’s never going back.

Tag list: @sinditia @darker-soft-starker @starkeristheendgame @thegreenmetblue @momodashii @peterrparrkerr @tnpt @blazingparker @carelessannie

[fightxxmexxshiggy]

Work from home

BAKUGOU x female reader

Word count 2200

TW: cervix play, degradation, implied threesomes.

Ugh why did you decide running was going to be your exercise for this bet?! Really the bounce of you breasts was gonna knock you into a coma before you made it to the 30 day goal. You wanted to give up or even try to negotiate for a different exercise but you knew your friends would poke fun at you if you whined about this to them. Steeling your nerves you hit the hill in front of you with a jumping sort of run hoping it would make the trek upwards a little easier. This was a mistake that you might never forgive yourself for. Your knees hated you, your breasts were screaming for the torture to end, to top it off the sweat running down your back decided to drip between your ass cheeks causing the nastiest feel ever.

Finally giving up on making it up the hill in one shot you wandered to the side of the path. Sitting on the nearest flat rock you took some deep breaths with your head through back in Hope's more air would come to your overworked lungs. After about five minutes you had calmed enough to stretch a bit so you didn't start cramping randomly. Catching the sound of footfalls your eyes shot open to watch as the most jaw droppingly sexy man you had seen in months jog up to you. Fucking. Shirtless. Letting your eyes devour that incredible expanse of skin you almost didn't hear him address you.

" hey Dumbass you hurt or something?" Immediately getting irritated at the insult you growl out an assurance of your wellbeing and go back to stretching. For what ever reason the rude, attractive man comes to a full stop in front of you. Refusing to look up at him you instead stretch your arms above your head and roll your hips to crack your lower back. Slowly lowering your arms to sit behind you, your eyes open to see the man still standing there as if waiting for you. That is kind of weird so you stare at his face daring him to try something. With a hum he grins and crouches down so that your eye level. " I like you attitude, tell me are you busy after this?"

 Shock took over your expression as he laughed, waiting for you to answer. Why would someone who looks like a prize fighter wanna spend time with you? Not to say that you weren't beautiful but you had curves that would make you a pinup girl not the clothing model men like him are usually seen with. The disbelief must have over powered the shock on your face because his grin shifted into a smirk. Standing back to his full height the man stalked to where you sat. Leaning over you he placed his hands right beside where yours rested. The move put his chin on your shoulders and his lips right on your ear.

" you really have no fucking poker face babe. I'll be straight with you, you are exactly my type. I wanna take you back to my place right now and wreck that pussy like it deserves." The feeling of his breath on your ear as he spoke gave you chills. His words hit you right in your core, a moan slipping from your mouth before you could stop it. He let out an animalistic growl before licking the length of your neck. Jerking back you stared into his eyes unsure but more and more interested in his proposal by the minute. Slowly he lowered his lips to yours, the kiss started of gently as if he was seeking something. After a few moments the gentle kiss turned savage almost like he was trying to show you what fucking him would be like. Whining deep in your throat you sucked on his tongue when he thrust it past your teeth. The move had him pulling back from the kiss and yanking you up the rock to rest flush against his muscled body.

" Tell me yes Dumbass I won't take you unless I hear it from your mouth." Using your closeness you trail your hands down his sides to rest against his hips. With your nails you trace a swirling pattern to his lower back before pressing down to leave light scratches from right above his ass all the way to his shoulders. The groan that left his mouth only made your pussy gush more juice onto the seam of your workout leggings. Once his eyes met yours you smiled sweetly. " yes but only if you tell me your name first."

Laughing he pulled away from you, grabbing your hand as he dragged you up what was left of the damned hill. With a quick smirk over his shoulder he shot out a quick " Katsuki Bakugou." You mumbled out your name between panting breaths as the completely unwinded man continued to drag you up what you were now calling the hill of hell. Before walking the rest of the way to the parking area, still holding your hand by the way. Stopping in front of what you assumed was his car he turned to you. "Ride with me or follow in yours?" Blushing you mumbled that you'd follow him in your car. Nodding in approval he walked you to your car a couple spots away. Unlocking your car you went to open the door only to have Katsuki stop you. With a hand on the nape of your neck he pulled you into a searing kiss unbothered by the few other people milling around.

Ending the kiss he leaned in close to whisper in your ear. " keep that pussy wet for me babe. I'm hungry and I plan to make you my meal." Well this was so not how you expected to end your daily workout but so far you were not fucking disappointed. Sexy asshole eating you out was a much better after run reward than the peice of chocolate cake in your fridge back home. Getting into your car and on the road behind Katsuki you followed him the 15 minutes drive to his place. Seeing the beautiful brownstone had your nerves launching into overdrive. Were you really about to fuck a man you met 30 minutes at a park? Watching him get out of his car and stalk over to your you realized that yes you were going to fuck this man because it would be a sin if you didn't.

Not one to go against the universe you let him open your door and help you from behind the wheel. Slamming the door shut he pressed your back to it and once again fucked your mouth with tantalizingly long tongue. Finally he had his fill of your mouth and slung an arm around your waist as he walked you up the stairs and into his impressively clean home. Shoes were kicked off at the door and clothes were pulled of with haste. In the bedroom the two of you fell onto the bed in a tangled mess of need. Crawling back until he was kneeling on the floor with your ass on the edge of the bed to give him access to the soaked hole between your pussy lips he growled.

"Look at this slutty little hole, leaking everywhere it needs to be punished." With one hand he held open your folds, with the other he layed a series of light smacks on your clit. The action only cause more juice to flow from your hole dripping down your cheeks onto the comforter below. Sticking out his tongue Katsuki licked a path through your juices to your abused clit. With sucking kisses he soothed away the small pain he had inflicted. Sucking harder he ran small circles around your clit with the tip of his tongue. Slowly he inserted two fingers into your pussy curling and thrusting them against the sensitive tissue. The fingers stroking against your gspot driving you closer to the finish line. Suddenly Katsuki shoved his fingers deeper until the tips brushed your cervix. The sensation like nothing you had ever felt, your hips jerked had nearly dislodging his mouth. With a growl he wrapped his free arm around your hips and gripped hard.

The arm around your hips should have been a warning but seriously how were you to know the man was a damn pussy master. Sucking and running his teeth over your clit he rubbed circles around your cervix until he hit a never before touched spot inside you. That was it he hit jackpot as you came screaming, squirting uncontrollably into his mouth as he moaned and drank happily. When you finally came back to your body you fell limp, muscles unclenching from their locked state.

 

"So good for me baby, so sweet and tasty, gonna fuck you till this pussy begs me to own it." The praise and promises flowing from his usually cocky mouth made your womb twitch something that relight your desire instantly. Whining you reached for his cock intent on getting a taste before he got inside you, you were 99% sure he would not be taking it from your pussy anytime soon once he worked his way in. " you want a taste of this cock little slut? Only a taste though I've got a some demolition to do." Kneeling by your head he ran the tip of his angry red cock across your lips. Tongue peeking out you licked the slit tasting the salty precum that had gathered there. Opening wide you sucked in as much of him as he would allow, lips stretched, tongue swirling and rubbing the underside. Katsuki threw Back his head groaning at the sweet suction. Pulling from your mouth with a loud pop pushed you to the middle of the bed.

Smooth his hands over your legs he caught the underside of your knees in a firm grip. Knees pushed to your chest framing your breasts in a breathtakingly sexual display he stared at you until you understood what he wanted. Taking hold of your legs you kept them in the position he demanded and watching as he rubbed his cock head through your folds stopping at every upward swipe to tap against your clit. Lining his cock up he fit the head into your hole. With measured strokes he worked every inch into your nearly too tight pussy. Crying out with every stroke it took all your strength to keep your legs in your hands. Finally he bottomed out, so big inside you that it felt like you would split in two. Leaning forward Katsuki gripped the sheets by your head as he started to thrust slow and deep. "Keep those pretty eyes on me baby, I wanna watch you break."

 

Each thrust had his cock head kissing your cervix, the pleasure threatening to make your eyes roll back in your head. All of the was too much you felt to open but everytime you went to close your eyes he would growl and pound into your pussy. Angrily saying "look at me slut." Until you would scream as an orgasm washed over you, eyes flying open with the shock of the intensity. As soon as you would look at him he would go back to his slow deep thrusts, sometimes catching your lips in a tongue fucking kiss. You had cum so much that you could barely see, vision foggy with pleasure. Unexpectedly katsuki stopped his strokes to stare at you. " baby I need a little favor from you." With effort you focused your eyes on his face and nodded your assent to horse from screaming to speak properly.

" I need you to be a good girl and take my cum."

 

With no other warning than that Katsuki pounded into your pussy, slamming against your cervix while you wailed his nail to the ceiling. On his final thrust he bottomed out grinding himself against your clit until you once again squirted for him, only this time he was cuming deep inside you flooding your womb with his hot load. No strength left in any of your limbs you let your legs fall as he rested his head between your breasts, trying to catch his breath while you tried to figure out if your still had lungs at all. In the distance you thought you heard a door open and close but you couldn't be sure with the limited brain function you had at the moment. A few moments later your question was answered as a red headed man with sharp teeth leaned a shoulder against the door.

"Damn bakubro you brought home a whole meal after your run didn't you. Think I can have a taste?"

 

The little clench those words elicited in your pussy had Katsuki's head shooting up off your chest to look at you. Blushing furiously you tried to look anywhere but at him. With a groan he slowly pulled his cock from you , his cum dripping out of your hole slowly. " her pussy seems to say yes but why don't you let us clean up a bit and we can see what her mouth says, shitty hair." Oh you were fuck quite literally.

[nikethestatue]

La Dolce Vita

Part II

On the Wings of Desire

Warnings: Language

(I had to split this chapter into two because it was getting too long. Hence, no sexy times, but angst galore) Comments and reblogs and likes are always appreciated! Let me know what you think. 

Chapter One is here

Two Years Ago

 Azriel

 Azriel pulled up to the flower shop.

There was a surprise that he wanted to share with Elain, and like a young boy on his first date, he was both excited and nervous. But he hoped that she’d like it. Funny how he still got a little nervous with her, exuberant even.

It’s been three months since they’ve met and he loved every minute that they’d spent together. The nature of their relationship was a little undefined, but he didn’t care. So what if they weren’t ‘dating’? So there weren’t official dinners and outings, to show only the best part of each other to one another? They moved beyond that right away. They simply loved being together. It was inexplicable, how quickly it happened, how easy it was between the two of them, but Azriel could never get enough of Elain.

He came to her shop whenever he wanted, helped her out, hung out with her, and she went to the garage to meet him. If he was busy and couldn’t meet with her, she closed her shop for lunch, and brought him a sandwich, so they could eat together. He loved it, even if he actually had a restaurant and a bar on premises and she technically didn’t need to buy him food. But there was something special about her coming up the stairs to his office, dressed in one of her cute, flowery dresses and heels. Every time it was a different sandwich, a different drink and a different snack—sometimes a cookie, or good chocolate, or weird chips, or a full-on pastry with cream and ganache and whatnot. He developed a strange fascination with his lunch options, never knowing what it would be and eagerly anticipating it.

Sometimes, he took her on long rides—one of their favourite past times. If he knew that she was up to her eyeballs with orders, since this was summer and it seemed like everyone was getting married, he would bring her takeout to the shop, and they’d sit and arrange flowers until the wee hours. When things calmed down, and there was a quiet evening ahead, she usually invited him to come and eat at her place. They cooked together, drank wine, and then went for a walk.

They haven’t had a kiss yet.

Did it bother him? He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t dream of Elain all the time, of her supple, soft body, of how she’d look naked, of how she’d feel when he filled her, what sounds she’d make, what her face would look like when she climaxed around him? Was she a screamer? A beggar? Was she loud or quiet and shy?

She never spoke of her past boyfriends, so he had no idea of how many men she’s been with. Secretly, he hoped that it wasn’t too many. Maybe it was some male thing, but the idea of her with another man, the thought of someone else touching her, making her moan, making her love—it didn’t please him at all. He thought that he was more modern, more advanced in his thinking—and usually he was—but in this case, he was struggling with accepting Elain wrapped around some other male.

 Surprisingly, even though it wasn’t even 6 pm yet, the flowers that usually spilled outside the shop were not gracing the pavement and the shop looked closed for the day. But Azriel went and knocked on the glass door anyway, seeing as there was some light coming from Elain’s office in the back. There was no response, but he knocked even harder, almost banging, until he heard Elain’s muffled voice yelling, “we are closed!”

“Laney, open up! It’s me!”

A few moments later, Elain appeared in the darkness and then the door opened.

And his jaw almost dropped.

She stood in front of him, wearing a slinky, satin, cobalt dress that looked almost like lingerie. Of modest length, it nevertheless emphasized her breasts very enticingly: soft and full, and pushed together just enough to create a hint of delicious cleavage. A simple set of glittering silver chains nestled seductively in that yummy valley between her breasts. One bare foot was clad in a strappy silver sandal, while she held the other, and jumped awkwardly on one foot, balancing herself on the doorframe. Her hair was curled and arranged over one naked shoulder.

He struggled to keep his breath from whooshing loudly.

“Whoa…”

“Hi Az,” she sounded…uncomfortable.

“Hey you. Hot date?” he chuckled, eyes gliding from her pretty toes up to her eyes.

Her throat bobbed and she didn’t answer.

Shit.

He fought the urge to cross his arms on his chest. But then he’d look threatening, towering over her, much like his father did when he was in one of his moods. Azriel swore to himself long ago to never, ever cross his arms with women.

“I didn’t think you’d be coming over,” she began, voice wobbling.

“So, you figured that you could sneak out?” he spat unkindly.

“I am not sneaking out!” she snapped, flushed and defiant. “I am going out,”

“With whom?” he demanded.

He and Elain had never fought. Never even disagreed.

They laughed together. They joked and discussed. They argued over books and movies. They talked about design, food and travel, places they wanted to visit, and things they wanted to see. Elain randomly texted him names of 3 and 2 Michelin star restaurants from all over the world, telling him where she wanted to dine, why, and eagerly opining on the menus.

Elain was his.

His little foodie, who was a fearless eater, and sampled just about everything and anything.

Elain was his.

His little art lover, who had a surprisingly wide breadth of knowledge of painting, art history and strong opinions on artists and styles. When he found out that she adored Balthus and that Egon Schiele was her favourite artist of all time, his respect for her only increased.

Elain was his.

His little intellectual, who read Anna Akhmatova’s poetry, listened to Alain Elkann’s podcast, and who could easily talk about the history of Lamborghini or Aston Martin, and Formula 1, just to satisfy him.

What the fuck was this?

Why was his Elain going on some date with another man?

Anger rose in him so quickly; he had a difficult time stopping his hands from shaking. So, he clasped them behind his back.

“It’s none of your business,” she said coldly. “I don’t have to report to you who I am going out with,”

“You don’t?” he demanded absurdly.

“No, I don’t!”

“Please tell me who he is?” he decided on a different approach. His brain was working furiously, trying to dissuade her, yet not anger her, yet find out as much information as possible.

“No!” she shook her head stubbornly. “Why do you even care?”

Why did he care? WHY did he care?

He couldn’t have been misreading all the signs. He couldn’t have been misreading her interest, her acceptance, her want.

There was no doubt in his mind that she wanted him—emotionally, as a friend, as a partner, as a lover. Reading people was his job, his calling, and he’d never been wrong. He certainly wasn’t wrong with Elain—she was an open book to him. He didn’t need to evaluate her reactions to his company to know that she was absolutely enthralled with him.

So why this?

Was it something he did? There were no hints of anything amiss the last time they’d seen each other. They were at her place, they cooked Italian together—spaghetti and clams—and he opened a bottle of Petilia Greco di Tufo, a pure, harmonious white from Campania. Then they went to the rooftop—their favourite place—and watched the city, enjoying gelato and playing cards.

Squeezing his hands behind his back, he demanded, “Has he been vetted?”

“Vetted? Vetted?” she exclaimed incredulously. “Who is going to be doing this vetting?”

She stared at him and bit out,

“I don’t like this side of you. This is crazy behaviour,”

“Why? Because you are going on a date? Suddenly. Unexpectedly.”

At that, she blushed furiously, squirming under his heavy, icy gaze.

He continued, “And with some guy you refuse to tell me anything about. Have you told Cass?”

“What? What exactly is Cass? My father?”

“Cass runs security for,”

“I know what Cass does!” she cried, looking furious, but also uncomfortable. Insecure. Anxious. “But I am not telling him. Leave me alone. I am not telling anyone,”

“Not even Nesta? Elide?” he demanded. “And what if something happens?”

“What’s going to happen?!” she asked nervously.

Nothing.

Probably nothing.

He was being an overbearing creep, but he couldn’t stop.

He needed to know. And yes, he wanted her to be safe.

“Who knows?” he shrugged menacingly. “He is unvetted. No one knows anything about him. Have you even Googled him?”

She blushed.

That’s a no.

“Unless you tell me his name, I am not leaving,” he warned. “I need to know who you are going to be with.”

“I am not telling you.”

“Fine,” he propped himself against the door. “We’ll just stand here.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

The standoff continued for another few minutes, until, exasperated, she blurted,

“His name is Dorian!”

“Dorian. As in Dorian Gray?”

She rolled her eyes. “How funny.”

He took out his phone and asked, “Does Dorian have a last name?”

“Are you seriously going to Google him?”

“Absolutely I will. Since you didn’t.”

“I am not telling you.”

“Fine,” he shrugged. “I’ll await Dorian’s arrival and have a man-to-man talk with him,”

She paled.

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“Watch me.”

She glared at him, and then sneered, “Why don’t you invite Lorcan too! And Rowan. So the three of you can stand here, in your freaky silent vigil and glare at him, to scare him off.”

“Good idea.”

She shrugged, “And when Dorian comes here, you three can tower over him.”

“Why? Is he tiny?” Azriel snorted.

She rolled her eyes and then thrust her foot into her other heel, finally. As she tied it around her ankle, she muttered angrily, “so disappointed in you,”

“Get in line,” he snapped.

“Adarlan,”

“What?”

“His last name is Adarlan.”

Azriel immediately typed the name into the phone.

A pretty white boy. Columbia. Pre-law.

Figures.

Of course, someone like that would want someone like Elain. And she’d want him in return. Pretty, proper. Pathetic.

“Satisfied?” she rose to her full height. Her cheeks were flushed, brown eyes gleaming with anger and challenge.

She was so beautiful and so annoyed with him, Azriel was blinded by her, by her light, her spirit.

“Not for a while,” he said blandly and shrugged.

That made her redden. Not the blush of anger. Her sexy blush.

So, he went for it.

“Call it off,” he begged.

“What?”

“Call it off. Please.”

“Why?”

Because you are mine.

He wanted to tell her. To explain.

But did he deserve her? All that light and goodness? Perhaps, pretty boy Dorian was indeed more appropriate.

“Because,” he began and then heard a car pull up behind him.

Steps.

He didn’t turn around.

“Elain.”

“Dorian.”

Her face lit up with a smile.

“Ready?”

She nodded. “Just let me grab my bag.”

When she disappeared, Azriel turned around at last.

Dorian was good looking, tall, thin. Young. Looked like a kid, though Azriel figured that he wasn’t much younger than him. But Azriel’s lived about 540 years by now…at least that’s how it felt, and Dorian—Dorian probably had many girlfriends, many friends, and daddy’s money.

He was about as interesting as a bag of beans.

They stared at each other.

Azriel didn’t give a shit.

He didn’t care about anything, other than this is what Elain chose. This Dorian may end up holding Elain’s hand. Perhaps going in for a kiss. That sensuous weak mouth may touch Elain’s perfect lips—the lips that Azriel only dreamt of kissing. And what if it went further?

What if,

No.

No.

Elain was not a ‘first date sex’ kind of girl. Never. Not his Elain.

“Treat her well,” he growled a warning.

Dorian blinked.

“What?”

“Treat. Elain. Well.”

“Who are you?”

“Consider me her brother-in-law.”

“Oh. Okay. Alright. Sure, man. Yeah.”

Fucking intellectual powerhouse.

“I am one of many,”

“Many what?” Dorian asked in confusion.

“Many brothers-in-law. And they all look like me. Some are even bigger.”

“Ready?!” Elain chirped.

“Um, yeah,” Dorian’s eyes darted back and forth.

Azriel finally gave up and crossed his arms on his chest.

“Have fun you two,” he said sweetly.

“Thank you. I’ll see you at Rhys’s pool party on Saturday,” Elain acted like everything was normal.

“Sure. Bring Dorian along,” Azriel jerked his chin. “We’ll be delighted to have him.”

 Elain

 “He is a charmer,” Dorian finally exhaled once they were inside the car.

She grunted in response.

“Does he have enough tattoos?” he started to reverse. “Oh, look, a Ferrari,”

“It’s his,” she bit the inside of her cheek, glancing quickly at the unmoving figure under the awning.

“His? What is he? A drug dealer?”

“Dorian!” she snapped. She was so on edge, she sat on her shaking hands the moment she buckled up.

“Sorry. Sorry. But really, do you want me to,”

She interrupted,

“What? Are you offering to beat him up?”

“I mean,”

“Dorian. He is a Navy Seal,” she said bluntly. “His bicep is the circumference of my head. His buddies are all pushing 6”7 in height and are all former Navy Seals. I am just saying. You aren’t taking him on.”

Dorian didn’t feel the need to disagree.

 Azriel

 Elain was his home. She was his happy place. His joy.

Her smile made everything better.

When she touched him--his fingers, his cheek—that touch carried more sensual promise than anything he’d ever experienced. And he’d experienced plenty.

Azriel’s only brush with love was when he was 18 and it was right before Morgana fucked Cassian, lost her virginity to him and got pregnant by him. He wondered if that’s what fucked him up, turned him off love for this past decade. Ploughing through endless bodies felt good, though he was usually left with the feeling of residual emptiness and longing. But he accepted it.

Elain though. He didn’t plough into Elain. Never even so much as seen her breast. And yet, his head was filled with her. Images, both erotic and mundane floated through his brain constantly. Elain’s eyes lighting up when he called her ‘baby’. Elain tasting a pastry, in her own special way, sometimes dipping her finger into the cream, and driving him wild. Elain reclining her golden head on the seat of his car, eyes closed. Elain being a little drill master when it came to arranging flowers, absolutely unperturbed by the idea of ordering Rowan and Cassian and Fen around.

That Elain was offering her smile, her time, her attention to that pretty prick Dorian was just intolerable.

If he could, he would actually climb the walls. But Azriel couldn’t climb walls, even if parkour-loving Fenrys would probably teach him how. Therefore, he went back to the shop, where Nuala was just packing up for the day.

“I need your car,” he demanded.

“We are in a garage,” she reminded him reasonably, but nevertheless tossed her keys to him. He caught them with one hand and said, “I owe you one.”

“You owe me like fifty…but who is counting?”

Nuala didn’t know why he needed her car, but she did know that he was beyond pining, at this point. He was in full love mode. As in LOVE. Capital letters, heart palpitations, sleepless nights, acting-like-a-drug-addict LOVE. Who would have thought? Not only that Azriel would fall in love at all, but that it would be with Elain.

Azriel got into Nuala’s ordinary Acura, drove to Elain’s apartment, and kept vigil the very same way she told him he would.

At this point, he didn’t care at all. He sat and waited in his shadows. Waiting like this—he learned this level of patience back in the Navy, during his recon missions—suited him, and his personality. Lorcan and he could sit like this for hours. Days. They weren’t bothered at all. Cassian and Fenrys would whine, complain and bounce like little children.

Shadows were his friends, as they’d always been, since he was a boy and hid from his abusive father. They protected him then, and concealed him now.

Finally, at an acceptable, and slightly boring, 11:23 pm, Dorian’s generic Audi pulled up.

There was no way that either of them would spot him, or assume that he was around.

Dorian opened the door for Elain, and she stepped out. They talked. She smiled. Then laughed.

It all grated on Azriel’s nerves. Go inside! He wanted to shout to her.

Then, Dorian made a move. Azriel tensed, when the pretty boy reached his hand out and ran his knuckles over Elain’s bare shoulder. The hand stopped entirely too close to her breast, as he squeezed her upper arm, holding her close. If Azriel sensed even the tiniest expression of discomfort from her, he’d be flying out of the car in a snap.

They talked some more, that gross hand still resting on Elain’s arm. But then, she opened her arms and Azriel grimaced. No way. No way was she going for a kiss.

And thank all the gods above, but she only hugged him, and not a close hug either—but that awkward, butts-out, shoulders pressed together weird hug. Something males typically gave each other, so careful to avoid any penile interaction. Then she walked to her building and gave Dorian a little wave. He hopped in his car and drove away.

What a prick. Didn’t even wait for her to get inside.

But she stood still, door unopened, keys in her fingers. And then, she peered into the darkness. A long, penetrating gaze. Aimed right at him. Like she saw through the shadows. She looked and looked, and he melted in the shadows, into the darkness of the car.

And then she flipped him off, and walked inside.

 Elain

 Piled into Lorcan’s Range Rover, it was Elain ad Elide, Lorcan and Connall in the car.

It was a nice day for a pool party, for a long drive to the Hamptons, for enjoying the sunshine.

Elain was having none of it.

She hated this idea to begin with—pool parties—which were full of too-rich and affected young people, prancing around in skimpy underwear. The women too perfect. The men, full of unreasonable expectations.

Feyre and Morrigan liked this crap, Cassian too, Aelin—certainly.

All the people with their perfect bodies and big hair and bigger personalities.

This Range Rover was like the car for outcasts.

Lorcan looked like he wanted to be at a pool party as much as he wanted to have a rectal exam. Connall, she was sure, would just sit by the bar and nurse drinks all day long. Elide would always find an escape with Lor, and the two of them would huddle together and make snide comments about the attendees to each other.

Elain sighed.

She was such a stupid, inexcusably dumb, fucking idiot.

“Do you know why Az isn’t coming today?” Lorcan looked at her in the mirror.

“Oh?”

She bit inside of her cheek, stifling a pathetic cry.

It shouldn’t have surprised her that Azriel decided not to attend, but she still harbored hope, somewhere inside of her that he would. That they’d be able to talk. That he’d…

Forgive her?

“No, I don’t know,” she mumbled.

“Did you have a fight or something?” Lorcan’s strange black eyes looked at her like they were scraping the edges of her soul. It wasn’t the most comfortable of feelings.

“No.”

She spent the rest of the trip in sullen silence. Even Elide didn’t try to shake her out of her stupor.

 As expected, the party was ridiculously over the top.

There were throngs of people milling about, all in various stages of undress. Firm, golden flesh gleamed in the sunlight.

There were three bars—one for beer, one for cocktails and one for everything else. An ice cream station. A s’mores station. Wagyu beef sliders. Lobster hot dogs. Jamon Iberico. Wheels of Parmigiano Reggiano.

Deep down, Elain was grateful that she’d never be this wealthy.

She was happy with her flowers, her shop, and she was considering opening a pastry shop down the road. And then Azriel had his wonderful garage, but successful as it was, it wasn’t on the Darling level of wealth…And that was alright. It was perfectly enough, too much even,

She stopped.

She should’ve just told him. Everything. A long time ago. But the intensity of her own feelings towards him frightened her, and then…she fucked it all up.

She meandered absently around the premises, listening to Feyre’s and Nesta’s screeching from the pool, where both were perched on the shoulders of their respective lovers, whacking each other and others with long plastic poles. Mor and her new girlfriend were making out passionately in a hammock. Fenrys was swarmed by a bevy of busty beauties. And so on…

She was feeling foolish and exposed in her pink bikini, wishing she had a wrap or something. Her body was no worse than all of these other girls’, but she couldn’t help but compare herself to them. They were confident. Exciting. Entertaining. They flirted and laughed loudly. They had sparkly teeth and giant lips.

She didn’t know how to flirt, and wasn’t glamorous or polished like them.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing here all alone? Without a drink?”

A man sidled over, his bold eyes roaming about her body, assessing.

“I am fine, thank you,” she made to get away and walk towards the pool, but he thrust an insistent hand in front of her, holding a drink.

“Come on, sugar. Join me.”

Sugar?

And then, there were four of them. Five.

None were threatening, but being surrounded by so many men, while basically naked was outside of Elain’s comfort zone. They were joking, laughing, chugging their beers. She didn’t know any of them.

“So, who are you?” asked one of them.

“A guest.”

She angled her body towards the pool, trying to sneak past them.

“A guest? We are guests too! Nice party,”

“It is. Pardon me, I have to go,”

“But why?”

One of them caught her hand in his and pulled lightly, grounding her in place.

“Excuse me!” she attempted to withdraw her hand, but he didn’t budge. They herded her a little closer to the house. A sixth man approached, carrying a little tray with tequila shots.

“Where do you got to go, baby?”

Another hand slipped down her back and brushed over her butt, making her jerk.

“What the hell?” she hissed, but her indignation was met with amused smiles.

“Such a pretty girl, all alone. Come, join us,”

“I am not alone!” she snapped angrily.

“Oh no?”

“And who are you with?”

“My fucking boyfriend!” she lied, a little scared now.

“Oh, a boyfriend?” teased one. “And who might that be?”

“Do we know this boyfriend? Where is he?”

She looked around desperately, and then lied again, “He is inside. And coming back, soon.”

Laughter.

“Ohh, I don’t think so. I’ve been watching you for an hour, and there is no boyfriend.”

“I think I need to go,”

“But why!?!”

They goaded, “Tell us about the boyfriend?”

“His name is Azriel Bagarat,” she blurted out.

More laughter. Challenging, condescending laughter.

“Really?”

“Mr. Fancy Garage is your boyfriend?”

“Good one! I almost fell for it.”

“Azriel Bagarat-I-date-a-new-girl-weekly makes for a bad boyfriend, honey,”

“You aren’t exactly his type.”

Tears threatened to pour out of her eyes, and she was horrified by her body’s reaction to the taunting.

She threw, “and what type is that?”

“He doesn’t go for squeaky clean girls like you.”

“Maybe it’s an experiment!” laughed one of them. “He is into all sorts of fucking kink. Maybe he is wetting his cock in some virgin flesh,”

“Are you even legal?”

“You look awfully young.”

At this point, Elain was not above screaming for Lorcan, or Rowan, or anyone else. Her looking weak and pathetic was the least of her concerns.

For a moment, the teasing and the laughter died down. One of them exclaimed, “Oh hey. There you are!”

Fuck. Another one.

The scent hit her first. The sharp, intoxicating smell of his expensive Armani cologne. She’d recognize it anywhere. That hint of cedar and a chilled night air. That was him. Her home.

And then, the familiar dark arm slipped across her stomach, tugging her firmly to his front. Another hand slid to her throat, laying on it, but not squeezing. He held her tenderly, close to him, possessively.

“I missed my girl,” he whispered, his gravelly, husky voice so familiar to her ear it sent a shiver down her spine.

Why couldn’t it be like this forever? Her in his arms? Forever?

“My gorgeous girlfriend always brings all the boys to the yard,” he chuckled. And then, to Elain’s utter delight and pleasure, he placed a warm, open mouthed kiss on the side of her neck.

She shuddered.

He’d never kissed her. Never intimately. Never kissed her like this.

His. She was his. And he just marked his territory.

It was glorious. To be kissed by him was something that she’d dreamt of and here it was—unexpected, sensuous, surprisingly erotic.

His thumb stroked the side of her throat, and then he leaned in and kissed her again. Same spot. Her bare vulnerable throat, her pale neck, his for the taking. She had no control of the situation, and she loved it.

“Thank you for keeping my girlfriend company, gentlemen, but I’ll take it from here.”

Not so brave anymore, in the face of this towering mass of muscle and tattoos, the men sheepishly offered him a shot, which he knocked back and then even attempted to high-five him, though he drew the line at that.

As they scampered away, Azriel did not release Elain from his embrace. She just stood there, with his arm around her, her body pressed into his almost-naked body and all she wanted was to turn around and peek. Or have him kissed her again. She really, really wanted him to kiss her again.

He did not though.

Finally, his arm fell away and he stepped back, causing a sorrowful sigh to erupt in her chest.

She turned around. His face was unreadable, as always, and though she picked out his little tells and signs of emotions now, she couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

“Thank you,” was all she could mutter. He didn’t answer. “I didn’t think you were coming,”

“No need to talk,” he cut her off. Then turned around and added, “feel free to leave with Lorcan or Cass.”

He was walking away when she called out, “Wait. Az. I want to talk. Please,”

“No,” he said simply.

She ran after him, trying to keep up with his long stride.

“Az, please, I need to,”

“It’s Azriel to you,” he corrected bluntly. “You don’t get to ‘Az’ me,”

She swallowed, tears stinging her eyes.

“Okay…okay,” she begged. “Azriel, I want to explain, please,”

“You don’t always get what you want,” he threw back.

She paused, but then added,

“But sometimes, you get what you need.”

A tiny smile twitched on his lips. But he schooled his face into neutrality and without turning to her, said,

“If you must tag along for the rest of the day, pretending like you are my girlfriend, it’s up to you,” he shrugged indifferently.

She didn’t care. At least he didn’t send her away. At least, she could be near him, and with time, she’d thaw his anger.

She followed him silently, like dog. Trying to be inconspicuous, but she stayed at his side, even if they didn’t talk and he continuously ignored her. It allowed her time to ogle his incredible body, which she did with relish and without shame. If he was going to be nasty to her, she at least would feast her eyes on all that muscular gorgeousness. Those Cadre men—they were all stunning, at least when it came to their physiques. Azriel, though, was a little more stunning than the others. Only Fenrys, perhaps, was at the same level of attractiveness.

They went to the bar and she followed him faithfully, not letting him out of her sight. He glanced at her, sighed, shaking his head with annoyance, but Azriel being Azriel, he ordered her a mojito, while he drank Sipsmith London Gin and tonic, and after a while, thrust the drink in her hand and muttered, “I am going swimming.”

She took it and sat on a chair, stiff-backed and patient, watching him.

When he emerged from the water, she was waiting for him with a fresh drink.

“Your tattoos look like wings.”

He rubbed a towel over the black and blue tattoos on his shoulders and arms and looked at her.

“Your tattoos,” she said again, watching his wet body and the markings on it come alive on his skin. When he was in the pool, and his arms rose and fell in the water, they looked like wings. “They look like wings. Bat wings.”

“Is that a compliment?” his voice was still cold, bored.

“Yes.”

She handed him his drink and then took his scarred hand in hers. He made to pull away, but she squeezed.

“You are my boyfriend,” she reminded him. “Would be strange if you didn’t want to hold my hand.”

He had no choice but to grip her hand back,

and fuck if it didn’t feel nice.

Two days, and he was going nuts without that little hand. Two days, and he’d missed her touch like it was his life’s necessity.

And then, she gently rubbed her thumb over his own.

“Stop that,” he ordered.

“No,” she said flatly.

“Elain,”

“Azriel,”

“It’s not going to work,” he warned.

She shrugged, “we’ll see.”

They took a few more steps, her thumb still stroking his fingers, and then he stopped abruptly.

“What do you want?”

She looked up at him and said, voice surprisingly firm, “I want to get into your car and drive home with you. I want to cook you dinner. I want to hold your hand. That’s what I want.”

“And what do I want?”

“You want the same thing,” she assured him, unusual confidence in her voice and on her face.

He watched her, unblinking, but she did not balk from his assessing gaze, did not step back. She just clutched his hand like life depended on it. His jowls twitched and he bit his lip, before says, “go and put some clothes on. We are going home.”

“No. Come with me,” she tugged him with her. “I don’t trust you.”

He smiled, at last, and her heart fluttered with joy at the sight of that magical smile.

They found their clothes, threw them atop the bathing suits and as soon as they were dressed, Azriel took her by the hand and led her out to the parking lawn. It was a Maserati Ghibli today, beautifully embellished with subtle pinstripes. No one would dare do this to their 90K car, but Azriel did. And it looked stunning.  

 The drive wasn’t comfortable.

He still wasn’t speaking to her and she just sat there, for an hour or more, in silence, hands on her lap.

Finally, once they began approaching the city, Elain asked, “where are you taking me?”

“Home,” was all he said, his first word since they got in the car.

She thought and said, “I don’t want to go home.”

His voice mocking and obsequious, he asked, “Please tell me, Elain, where should your personal Uber take you? Would you like a coffee? A snack? A walk in the park? A trip to the library? Should I deliver you into Dorian’s loving embrace?”

“Stop it,” she snapped at him, all red and angry. “Stop with all that!”

Azriel plowed forth, ignoring her command, “where was he today, by the way? Why was I stuck rescuing the damsel in distress? Where is brave Dorian?”

“Nobody asked you to rescue me!” she lied, suddenly realizing that maybe, that kiss meant nothing to him. That it was all for show.

“Yeah, you looked like you were handling that situation very well,” he decided dryly.

“You know,” she folded her arms on her chest, “do take me home.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

Once they entered the city proper, Azriel fought the traffic aggressively, swearing under his breath more frequently than usual, obviously intend on getting rid of her as soon as possible.

She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t break through. Couldn’t get to him, not around the walls that he’d constructed around himself. She thought that she could, but she was wrong.

Finally, they were coming towards her block.

The silence was stifling. Unbearable.

“Why did you do it?” he blurted suddenly.

She looked at him, but before she could offer any explanations or excuses, he continued, not looking at her, “Was I not enough? Was he better?”

“He is nothing,” she managed, desperation tinging her voice, her whole being. She reached out to touch him, but he jerked his arm away.

“Don’t,” he warned. “Nothing? Why would you do this, Elain? Was I not enough? Too weird? Too brown? Too low-born? Too fucked up?”

Elain stared at him in horror. She was numb. Words failed her.

He was shaking his head.

There was true sadness, dejection written on his face. Devastation.

“I was falling in love with you, Elain,” he said so softly, she barely heard the words. “For three months, I’ve been falling in love with you. I’ve loved everything about you. I knew that the hammer would drop…One day, it would drop because it’s not like this could ever be,” he made a wide gesture with his hand.

He stopped the car next to her house.

“But I thought that it would be me. That I’d fuck up somehow and you’d dump me. Which would be…expected…”

He sighed, his breath so ragged it sounded like a sob.

“But I didn’t expect this. Truly. Though looking back, I don’t know why I didn’t?” he shrugged. “That’s what Mor did—the only other one I thought that I loved. But we were young and stupid, so…” he was looking out the window, seemingly talking to himself, not to her anymore. “But now I am almost thirty and for once, I thought that maybe, just maybe, this one time, I’d get what I want.”

Elain was weeping silently, fat tears pouring onto her hands, dripping off her face.

“I wanted you more than anything, Elain.”

Elain. Elain. Elain.

She hated that he called her Elain.

She hated that he didn’t use his usual endearments with her, that she was no longer his ‘baby’ nor his ‘love’. She wasn’t his ‘gorgeous’ or his ‘beautiful’. She was just Elain.

There was no warmth in his voice. Only some kind of hollowed emptiness, instead of the usual teasing smirk, the undercurrent of humour and love, of tender softness that he always used with her. Only with her.

“You can have me,” she managed finally through her sobs. “You can ha--…”

He finally turned his head and looked at her, that gaze dark and pitiless.

“I am not sure I want you anymore. We’ll coordinate the wedding situation and we’ll be civil to each other, for Feyre and Rhys’s sakes. Goodbye Elain.”

She sat there. He waited. Then, with a groan, he got out and went to open the door for her.

As she stepped out of the car, she begged one more time, “Azriel. Please. Please just allow me the opportunity to talk to you,” she wiped her face, with her fist.

It destroyed him completely.

He didn’t know what to do with himself, as he tracked her movement, that childish, simple, raw flick of her fist over her eyes. It wasn’t the modelled, reserved, dab-the-eye practiced move that you saw on reality shows, the fake tears, the faux sadness.

This was Elain; sorrowful, devastated, begging.

“Please,” she pleaded again.

“I asked you to call it off,” he reminded her. “I begged you. You didn’t.”

She choked on a sob.

“You threw it in my face, Elain. This random man, whom you also led on, by the way. Led him believe that you were interested. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I am too old for this…Allow me the opportunity to just deal with this break up—or whatever it is—however I can. We both need to move on.”

He’d never left a crying woman on a sidewalk.

But he’d also never been in love before. And his heart had never been broken like this.

 ********************

 Azriel

 Nuala Gennaro has been trying to reach her boss for three days, to no avail.

He didn’t respond to texts, or to calls. He didn’t show up to work. He wasn’t at the garage, at the tattoo shop, or his design studio. He didn’t seem to be home either, because she drove by his loft a few times and the windows remained dark.

She had keys to his house, but that was a violation of privacy that she didn’t feel like engaging in just yet. Was this an emergency? He gave her the key for ‘emergencies’. Was this one? A healthy, 29-year-old handsome man disappearing for three days didn’t seem like an emergency, but still, Nuala was concerned.

She was going to give him one more day, and if he was still AWOL then she’d begin to worry.

Azriel was responsible. Whatever was happening in his life typically did not reflect on his work ethic. Besides, he was usually so guarded and seemingly unemotional, it was hard to say if he was affected by anything. Nuala had met him in high school—a beautiful, quiet, mysterious boy who looked like a fallen angel and who seemed unusually confident and astute for his age.

They reconnected after he and his brothers returned from the Navy. He was darker and quieter than she remembered, and hardened in his manner and bearing, and had a haunted look in his eyes which worried Nuala for quite some time. She’d been apprenticing as a tattoo artist and they’d met to discuss her joining his venture. She wasn’t sure if this whole garage/restaurant/tattoo parlour for rich people thing was going to be feasible or even realistic, but Azriel believed in the concept and somehow, got her enflamed by his passion as well. They’d slept together over the years, but even if she would have wanted more, he wasn’t willing to give it to her. Azriel went through women with the determination to conquer, mild interest and lack of follow up. But he never gave any of himself to them. Pleasure—yes. Self—no. So, Nuala had decided—staying with him and in his life, in his business, as his protégé and associate was more important than having him as a lover, even if he was by far the best lover she’d ever had.

The only thing that did seem to affect him—deeply, powerfully—was Elain Archeron.

Nuala didn’t think that it would happen. Didn’t think that Azriel was a man to fall in love so passionately, so completely, and even if he was denying it to himself, Nuala knew him well enough to know the truth. And whatever happened between him and Elain, approximately a week ago or so, truly devastated him.

Prior to his disappearance, he operated as if he was in some sort of fog. He answered questions, he gave instructions and directions, he did whatever was expected of him—met with clients, held meetings with his car suppliers, negotiated deals—but his heart was not in it. His beloved business was no longer his priority, and that confounded Nuala, for she had never seen him like this before.

She arrived early, earlier than usual, because she needed to get crackin’. Without Azriel, things seemed…tighter…more difficult. She’d never noticed it, but somehow, he carried this business, made it seem easy, and she falsely believed that it was a walk in the park. Gods, it wasn’t! It was busy, and difficult, and required constant attention and decision making, and reports only piled on her desk—financials, inventory, guest lists, requests, specs. It was endless.

Azriel’s office, a glass cube perched at the top of the building and overlooking everything below, the entire operation, was very dimply lit this early morning. Cassian installed one-way floor to ceiling windows in the office, so no one could look inside, but Azriel was able to see everything, if he so desired.

Nuala climbed the industrial-style stairs and opened the door without knocking.

At first, she thought that there was a fire. The office was entirely engulfed in smoke, but before she could hit the alarm button, nauseatingly pungent stench of tobacco assaulted her nostrils.

“What the hell?!” she exclaimed, rubbing her eyes, and rushing to open the outside windows. She left the door open as well, to encourage some sort of ventilation.

“What the hell,” she muttered again, finally making out Azriel in the dimness, who was sprawled on the leather sofa, in jeans and boots and a black t-shirt, his arm hanging listlessly to the floor, a cigarette between his fingers. On the floor, an almost empty bottle of Jameson’s and an overflowing ashtray, stuffed to the brim with butts. Tom Waits’s insanely gravelly, bourbon-and-tobacco-soaked voice filled the space as well.

“Wow,” she crossed her arms on her chest. “Wow.”

“Why are you here so early?” he asked by way of greeting.

“Funny thing—my boss disappeared for three days. Four days, actually. No word. No text. No call. No email. No warning. No idea whether he is dead or alive. So yes, it’s made for some early mornings for some of us.”

No answer.

He took a deep drag of his cigarette and said nothing.

“What the fuck, Az?”

“Like you said,” he shrugged indifferently, “I am the boss. I don’t have to report to anyone.”

Nuala bit her lip, but did not retort in the way she wanted to retort.

“Where were you?” she inquired calmly.

“Vegas.”

“Vegas?”

“Rhys’s Bachelor Party.”

“Oh.”

“I won money. It’s somewhere,” he glanced around absently. “Give it to some charity…”

“Which one?”

“I don’t care.”

“Fine.”

She didn’t push him. But added, “you can’t smoke here.”

“It’s my shop,”

“Even though. State and city regulations.”

He put out his cigarette compliantly.

“It’s 5 am. When did you start drinking?” she asked, pointing to the bottle.

He gave a lazy glance and shrugged,

“Technically, I didn’t stop drinking…It’s been a few hours…”

She was shaking her head.

He stared into the ceiling blindly, wordlessly.

Nuala didn’t know, but she also knew. So she took pity on him.

“Az,”

“I’d like to be alone now.”

“I will leave you alone,” she promised. “But…” she let out a whoosh of air, preparing herself. “Elain,”

He didn’t react.

“Elain is downstairs.”

To that he did react. He sat up so quickly, she didn’t track the movement with her eyes.

“I found her on the steps, outside,” said Nuala. “She looks like hell. I barely recognized her.”

“Why is she here?” he asked stupidly.

“I think you should probably ask her that. She wouldn’t come inside,” Nuala explained. “She said that she’s been sitting outside since 4 am, hoping to catch you.”

But Azriel was already out the door, sprinting down the stairs, making Nuala gasp, as he took three at a time, and she feared that he’d fall down on the concrete floor and break every bone in his body.

It was only five in the morning, and the streets, even NYC streets, were empty.

It was drizzling, a summer thunderstorm about to erupt.

Elain was sitting on the doorstep, arms wrapped around her knees, huddling into herself in the morning chill.

“Elain,”

She jumped up and turned to him.

He never saw her like this—wrecked. Utterly devastated. Wilted.

His lovely flower girl, his little rose, his darling beauty—wilted. Instead of her usual colouring of pink and golden, caramel and honey and cream, she looked black and white. Like everything was leeched out of her, every spark, all joy, each remarkable hue.

They did not greet each other. She just looked at him, and,

“I’ve hurt you,” she said, her voice surprisingly steady, the tone firm. “I know that. And you can leave and discard me, and you have every right,”

Azriel just stood there, looking at her, unable to get enough. Thinking that there was a possibility that this was going to be one of their last conversations. And that possibility was unacceptable to him. It was intolerable.

The rain began to fall.

Azriel moved under the awning, angling his body so she would come and stand under it as well, but she didn’t move.

Steady droplets pounded the pavement, giving off that fresh smell of wet asphalt. The air was heavy and humid and felt unsettled, like it was preparing for a torrent.

“But know this one thing,” she continued, staring at him, unblinking, eyes brimming with tears. “I fell in love with you on Saturday, May 9th, at 7:14 in the morning. I had loved you every moment of my life since then. I will love you every moment of my life until I die. Nothing will ever change that. I don’t speak to you as some besotted, inexperienced girl, who is smitten by a handsome man…I speak to you from my soul. You have my heart, Azriel. Every broken and sad piece of me, you’ve managed to put together with your beautiful, scarred hands. I will never ask for anything of you—not even a word back, but I needed you to know this. I want you know that I’ve never loved anyone, no man, no being, not my sisters or my parents, as much as I love you. All my joy, my peace, my dreams are connected to you. You are the first thing I think of when I wake up, and the last when I fall asleep—and then I dream of you. I don’t care if you know this, but I’ve built up my whole life around you in my head, all my fantasies are about you. All I want is to love you. That is all. Not very ambitious, I know,” she wiped the tears that were flooding her face, mixing with the rain, “but I can’t think of anything that would ever bring me more happiness, more satisfaction than to love you. And…” she choked a quiet sob, “if you don’t want me—that is alright…I want you to be happy. And if I don’t make you happy, then, so be it, but,”

Azriel couldn’t help himself. Couldn’t contain his bursting breath, his aching heart. Every bit of him felt electrified, wild, untamed.

He grabbed her, his arm pressing her soaking wet body to him, the rain pouring over them, and she trembled and sobbed next to him. Such indescribable hope in her eyes. That maybe, just maybe, it would all turn out like her fantasies.

He cupped her wet, pale face in his palm and murmured,

“You want me?”

Her trembling fingers traced his cheekbone and she nodded mutely.

“Say it,” he groaned.

“I want you,” she whispered.

“Say more,” he begged. “Say everything.”

“I love you. I choose you. I want you.”

He soaked it all up. Every breath. Every word. Every emotion on her face.

“Well,” he muttered, “if we are keeping score…then I fell in love with you on Tuesday, May 5th, at 4:47 in the afternoon.”

She laughed through her tears, clutching at him with desperate hands, as if fearing that he would disappear. Turn around and leave her.

But he wasn’t going anywhere. Ever.

He was exactly where he wanted to be. Yearned to be all his life.

“First glance, baby,” he lovingly caressed her face, “first glance. Love at first sight.”

She kissed the tips of his fingers.

“You are my home, Elain,” he wrapped his arms around her and held her close to him, her cheek pressed to his chest, his hand cradling her head, “my favourite person in my life. With you, all things are possible. Sometimes, I feel like I can fly. Like I’ve grown wings and I hear the song of the wind. But I think that it’s just your voice in my head. You won’t leave, right?”

She chuckled and shook her head, “No. Never.”

“Because this week,” he shuddered, “it’s like I lost a limb…There was this phantom reminder of you, always within me, and yet, you weren’t there. I couldn’t reach and find you next to me. I’ve never felt such emptiness,” he brought her hand to his chest and lay it on her booming heart, “there was nothing here,” he pressed her hand closer, and she felt the steady beat, “empty…You weren’t with me, and there was nothing left.

“I think I’ve been in love with you—forever. I don’t even believe in past lives or other worlds, but sometimes I feel like I’ve known you for eternity.”

She raised her face to him, surprise and awareness in her red-rimmed eyes,

“I feel the same. Az, I’ve always felt the same thing!”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” she nodded vigorously, “when we held hands the first time, when we just met, I recognized your touch. I knew your scars. It was all familiar to me, like stepping back into my own home, after a long absence. Reacquainting myself with something that I already loved.”

He cupped her face in his hands and asked,

“May I kiss you?”

“You have to kiss me,” she smiled a happy, luminous smile at him. “I’ve waited for a long time for you to kiss me.”

Azriel smiled, and looked up, rain drenching his face and their bodies.

“Are we really going to do this? In the pouring rain?”

She was grinning, smiling happily, nodding, “All the cliches in the world!”

He clasped her jaw in his hand, wrapping his other arm tighter about her.

“I loved when you kissed me at the party,” she admitted, a little breathless.

“Yes?” he murmured and then dipped his head, and gently pressed his lips to her throat.

Elain shuddered against him, her breasts, nicely full, round and soft pressed tightly against his chest, and she sighed her pleasure.

“Like that?” he whispered against her cold, wet skin, and she half-moaned, nodding. So he kissed her neck again, on the other side, raking his teeth gently along the warm, pulsating vein. He kissed along her collarbones, tender and sweet, but with acute intention. Her breasts moved against his chest, their shirts nor her bra providing much of a barrier between his skin and her firm, swollen nipples.

Up her throat he went with his lips, kissing softly, until he pulled away for a moment, their breaths mingling, warm next to each other. He tilted her face just so, to have better access to her full mouth, and then kissed the plump lower lip. She clutched at his shirt and pulled him closer, the rain forgotten, the world encapsulated in his mouth, in the loving pressure of his lips against hers.

Elain looked irresistible. In his arms, where, let’s face it, she belonged, with her cheeks finally, finally taking on the familiar rosy blush.

Azriel, all 6”4 or “5 of the dark, bestial sexiness of him was wrapped around her. The low, sensual purr that he emitted turned into something more primal, hungrier when his mouth moulded into hers. The base, animalistic attractiveness of him, the bronze arms, the thick markings of his tattoos all over his skin, slithering like shadows, was almost too much for Elain to handle all at once, and she moaned, loud, and desperate against his lips. He brushed his nose against her cheek, and then nose to nose, and she was so stupidly needy for him that she struggled to stay upright. He brushed his fingertips over her lips, squeezing them between his and her own, and she licked on the pad of his thumb, laving some of the scars with the tip of her tongue.

Gods, this man could kiss.

Brutal, savage and noble--all amalgamated into one indescribable, unforgettable experience. Hungry and knowing, agonizingly slow, he devoured her mouth like it was some succulent, exotic fruit that he’s been craving. His lips explored her thoroughly, unhurriedly, tasting and savouring, caressing and worshipping. It was she who slipped her tongue inside his mouth, tentatively at first, but then gaining in boldness and confidence, especially once he sucked her in and stroked it with his own. He tasted of something masculine: alcohol, maybe, deep and rich and smokey, and tobacco, certainly, which, surprisingly, she enjoyed, but also something sexual. If Elain ever thought that she could taste passion, this lazy, indulgent sucking of his tongue on hers was exactly that. He groaned into her mouth, low and hot, and then licked on her tongue, with sensual playfulness which she loved.

She was hot in his arms, against his towering, heated body, and even the pouring rain couldn’t cool her off. The slabs of his abdominal muscles pressed into her belly and she was growing positively addicted to having him so close to her, his massive strength enveloping her so nicely, cushioning her against him. Nothing in her life has ever felt so wonderful, so sublime as Azriel felt in her arms.

Their kiss went on and on, heady and glorious, with him exploring every bit of her mouth with his tongue and lips, his hands caressing her body unobtrusively.

“Gods, I want to kiss you for eternity,” he moaned, tearing himself away from her lips at last.

She was panting, glassy-eyed, in love. He squeezed her face between his palms, looking down at her, her happiness, the unabashed joy in her eyes.

He’d finally made someone happy.

“Okay,” she agreed easily.

He smiled and kissed her again, then again, his lips creating a certain magic between his mouth and her skin and their bodies.

Elain had fought for him.

She didn’t give up. Didn’t shrug it all off. Didn’t leave in anger or panic. His absence meant something to her—perhaps, meant more than he could understand. He knew the misery of not having her in his life. It was only a week, but it was a week of pure hell. Now, he assumed that it wasn’t only he who felt that gaping chasm in his heart. She, for some inexplicable reason, loved him. Of that, he was certain.

“Now, I think we’ve satisfied any girl’s quota of romantic cheesiness,” he decided and she laughed, slapping his bicep lightly. He kissed her softly, “and I am taking you inside,” he said.

Elain only now realized that her feet haven’t been touching the asphalt for the duration of the kiss. She was literally floating aboveground, in his arms, in the throes of their first kiss.

The cheesiness quotient has been achieved indeed.

“Will you kiss me more?” she asked, as he swung her in his arms and carried her inside the shop.

“I am confident that I will never stop kissing you,” he assured and made his way up the stairs, to the office, clutching the dripping mess that she was in his arms.

She’s been here before, but he brought her straight into the attached bathroom, which was appointed outlandishly, and with a nice shower too.

“Get in there,” he ordered, “now. Before you catch a cold because of your love for kissing in the rain,”

She giggled, kiss-drunk and toed off her soaking wet converse that smacked limply on the tiled floor.

“But what am I going to wear?”

“My clothes, obviously,” he shrugged. “Unless you don’t want to, which is fine, because naked is just fine by me. Actually, preferred,”

She snickered, but looked at him, a little uncertain, and he rolled his eyes and muttered, “yes, yes, I will leave! Don’t worry. Though you know, I will eventually see everything anyway. So your modesty is misplaced on me.”

Azriel was correct. A hot shower was perfect. Despite it being late August, standing under pouring rain wasn’t as much fun as they made it seem in the movies.

The door opened and he came in, “here is some stuff for you.”

She looked at him over her shoulder, probably a little sultrier than she intended, and he winked, “Nice ass!”

“Ugh, stop looking!” she croaked, but he only laughed.

“You are the one with the bare butt!”

Then, he scratched his chin and bit his lip, making no move to leave.

“Az!” she exclaimed, blushing, but also kind of … intrigued.

“This is a very, very, very nice ass,” he muttered to himself, but loud enough for her to hear. Her blush only intensified, when he said, “the things I am going to do with it. Mmmm,” he rubbed his lower lip with his thumb, as if contemplating what he will be doing with her butt and then finally walked out, shaking his head.

When Elain emerged from the bathroom, with her hair wrapped in the towel and wearing Azriel’s t-shirt and shorts, she found him in a leather chair, sipping coffee. He’d also changed and his hair was mussed and damp, his bare feet crossed at the ankles, resting on a leather stool.

“There is coffee for you,” he jerked his chin towards a marble coffee table that had a basket of pastries and two large cups of coffee.

He marked everything.

How she looked in his clothes, which were much too big on her, yet cozy, though the shorts that she wore were hilarious, reaching below her knee.

How she brought him his coffee first, before taking her cup.

How she sat on the stool, by his feet and crossed her legs, before giving him a croissant and biting into her own.

“Have you warmed up?” he asked, sipping his coffee. Chugging gallons of coffee American style wasn’t his thing—he preferred quick, small espressos, but this giant cup did take the chill away.

She nodded.

“Do you want to talk?” he asked.

She tensed right away, and he said, “All is forgiven, I swear. “

She eyed him suspiciously, nevertheless.

He smiled at her, and added, “But...I think that I need to understand what happened? Did I do something to,”

“No!” she exclaimed immediately. “No. It was nothing you did. Never think that it was you,”

“Alright,” he said calmly. “Then what was it?”

She didn’t look up from her cup, running a finger over the rim.

“Talk to me, love,” he encouraged softly.

“You’ve consumed me, Azriel,” she confessed, her voice barely audible. “From the moment I saw you, you’ve consumed me. And I guess…” she sighed, “I was stupid…a stupid, stupid person because I didn’t know,”

“What?”

“Whether I was infatuated, or in love with you. So I thought that maybe, if I expose myself to another man, even in some minor way, I might be able to tell what I feel,”

“And? Did you?”

“Dorian…” she swallowed nervously, “he is a nice guy. He is in Law School with Nesta—that’s how I know him. When he asked to go to dinner, and I said yes,”

She looked up at him, tears threatening to spill out from her eyes,

“And I felt nothing,” she admitted, her voice broken somehow. “I could only think of you. The entire time, I could only think of you and I knew that it wasn’t fair to him…”

Azriel agreed, “probably not”.

“And I knew that I’d made a colossal mistake… But,” she set her cup on the floor and squeezed her fingers. “I…”

She halted. Said nothing else.

Azriel waited.

“What?” he probed, sensing that there was something she wasn’t telling him. He reached for her, but she only shrunk into herself.

“Elain, what is it?” he pressed.

She blushed and murmured, “promise me you won’t leave me, if I tell you.”

His brow furrowed, “Please,” he begged, “tell me what’s going? You are legit scaring me right now.”

“You won’t lea--,”

“Don’t be ridiculous! I am not leaving you, no matter what. But are you alright?”

She pulled her hair from the towel and it spilled over her shoulders, half-obscuring her face. He reached and tucked the wet strands behind her ears, so he could see her face.

“Talk to me, baby,” he urged gently.

She exhaled and then said, looking straight at him,

“I’ve never been with a man, Az.”

He looked at her and then blurted, absurdly, “Like a virgin? But you are so hot!”

She couldn’t help and burst out laughing.

“I guess not hot enough,” she shrugged, a bit more relaxed about the situation now that he seemed relieved and smirking too.

He exhaled, deeply, bubbling his lips, “Phew…I thought it was something,” he shook his head, not able to express his relief. “Important…Something, I don’t know, serious?”

“What would be serious?”

“I don’t even know,” he admitted, “but certainly more serious than a hymen!”

He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips.

“And I appreciate you telling me,” he said seriously, kissing the inside of her hand, but then, that glint in his eyes returned and he asked, “so did you want the hunky Dorian to deflower you?”

She pushed at him with her foot and he fell back dramatically in his chair,

“Auuu, you are so unbelievably violent!” he complained, rubbing his side.

“I can be even more violent!” she threatened.

He was laughing, but then he caught her feet in his hands and squeezed them gently, holding them on his lap.

“So you didn’t have boyfriends in high school? In college?” he asked at last, genuinely perplexed.

She sighed and explained,

“In high school I was dating Luce,”

“You were dating a girl?” his brow furrowed. “I didn’t know,”

She started to laugh,

“No! Luce is a man. Lucien,”

“Oh…Oh. Every time you mentioned Luce, I just assumed he was a she.”

“No, he is my best friend. The closest friend I’ve ever had, besides maybe Nesta. We’ve always been close and then in high school, we began dating,” she tugged on her wet hair, “or rather, go on dates.”

“What’s the difference?”

“I didn’t know either—not in the beginning. But then, when we were juniors in 11th grade, he came out, to me only.”

“Ahhh,”

“Lucien’s step-father is really horrible. Like, awful. Physically abusive to all his sons, and always fancied himself this alpha male. So for Lucien to come out to him would have been suicide.

“We agreed that we’d continue our ‘dating’, until we graduate, and Luce was looking at schools only in California. As far as possible from here, from Beron.”

“And you were…okay with it?” he inquired, gently massaging her feet.

She shrugged, “I suppose I was. Luce and I had a good relationship,”

“But it was without any,”

“Intimacy,” she nodded. “I don’t know, I suppose it was enough…My mother had died recently and we lost most of our money, so I guess dating and boyfriends weren’t a priority, if I am being honest.”

He nodded with understanding.

“And college?”

“I had a boyfriend,” her voice wobbled a little, “but he…”

The heavy gaze that Azriel levelled at her told her that he already guessed.

“Sometimes,” she said, “when you are in the situation, you don’t see the warning signs,”

“Did he hit you?” his voice, so cold and menacing, sent a chill down her body.

She shook her head, “No. It didn’t get that far…Cass interfered,”

“Cass?”

“We’ve known Cass for at least a year,” she reminded him, “before he started dating Nesta. He spent a lot of time with us, at the house, because I think he didn’t want to part with Nesta,”

Azriel smiled, “No he didn’t. He wouldn’t stop talking about her for a year…I’d never seen him like that. First Rhys, then Cassian…Guess there is something special about these Archeron sisters,” he decided and stroked her face lovingly, smiling at her. She tucked his palm between her cheek and shoulder and kissed it.

“They do have a tendency to fall in love with the three brothers,” she agreed.

“Yes, they do.”

“Cass, he called us ‘his girls’—Feyre and I. Always asking after ‘his girls’, bringing us presents, doing fun things with us. And I came to love him so much,” she sighed. “And I know that he truly loves us too…But you know Cass—he is a no-nonsense kind of a guy. So once, he observed Graysen with me,”

“Graysen?” Azriel rolled his eyes. “That’s a horrible fucking name,”

She laughed,

“It matched his personality. But you know, on paper, he looked great. Handsome, good family, money,”

“So basically Dorian?”

Elain rolled her eyes,

“You are never going to have me live this down, will you?”

“Not for a while.”

“At least you are honest. Gray, he just…didn’t care, I guess? It was all about him. When I’d talk about opening my shop, it would just be a plain ‘no’. He’s put me down…” she sighed, “sometimes comment on my weight—I was either too fat or too thin.” Azriel flinched at that. She continued, “He’d tell me what to eat. What to wear. Where to go,”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he muttered.

Then, he sat up straight in the chair and opened his arms to her.

“Come here.”

Elain, a bit unsure, and a bit rattled by the memories, moved towards him. He cupped her face in his broad scarred hands and said, “All in the past. Now, it’s just you and me.”

She nodded, gently squeezing his wrists. He leaned in closer and she nodded. His sort of power, the more aggressive and primal, and seemingly more dominant than what Graysen could ever conjure up, did not scare Elain at all. He beckoned and seduced her with that pursuit and challenge, but he did not frighten or oppress. It was similar to what Cassian possessed and how he managed to seduce Nesta with it, turned her compliant to his demand and instruction, or Lorcan with Elide. Azriel’s power, his seduction, were more cerebral, his affection passionate, but controlled. Elain could abandon herself to him, and yet she knew that she’d never be abused or taken advantage of, no matter how much control she relinquished.

This kiss was sultry and voluptuous, and it felt dirtier, heavier than their first one. He sucked her lips, is tongue softly grinding against her in a smouldering, almost smug rhythm. He fucked into her mouth steadily, and purposefully, rendering her completely breathless in his arms almost instantly, forcing all thoughts of previous loves and heartaches out of her head. She made a tiny, strangled noise deep inside her throat and squeezed his wrists harder.

“Tell me things, baby,” he muttered heatedly against her lips, thumbs brushing over her cheeks.

She smiled, “what things would you like to hear?” He kissed her softly, lips pecking on hers playfully, and said, “all the things…all the good things that you told me before,”

“That I love you?” she asked simply, looking at him with earnest, undimming desire.

“Yes,” he groaned, pulling her closer to him, until she was straddling his thighs, her legs naturally falling on either side of him. A desperate moan escaped his lips, as Elain licked on them with the tip of her tongue, before he demanded, between kisses and caresses of his tongue in her parted mouth, “more,”

“I love you. I love you,” she breathed, then panted, “you are mine…I am yours. Forever, if you’d like,”

“I’d like forever,” he agreed.

She pulled away, her soft, lovely face serious,

“Az,”

“Elain,”

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?” she asked, and he grinned, nodding. She sounded absurdly solemn about this, like she was signing a business contract. “I love you. I want you to be my boyfriend,”

“Alright, babygirl, I will be your boyfriend,” he nodded easily.

“No jokes.”

“No jokes.”

He then said in turn, “But you’ll be mine.”

She nodded.

“In every way,” he added, in a tone that did not allow space for much argument. “Body,” and he lightly ran his knuckles against the side of her breast, and she nodded. He added, “but I want more,”

“What do you want, Az?”

“Love,” he said simply.

She kissed him. “I love you,” she said.

He waited.

“I chose you, Azriel, the moment I saw you. When my heart dropped at the sight of you, and when everything fell into place. I don’t mind choosing you for the rest of my life, if you have me,” she murmured shyly.

“I will have you,” he agreed, her admission making him swallow hard, a thick glob of air lodged in his throat. He might have cried, if he weren’t so happy. His flower girl. His.

He looked and looked, and considered something. She waited, silent. Silence was always a friend between the two of them. Silence was easy and unoppressive and welcome. It allowed them space, and yet they remained together in that mute, mutual understanding. While he was thinking, she took his hand and softly kissed each scarred fingertip.

“I am calling on my bargain,” he declared suddenly, and stroked her head.

Confused, she scrunched her face and muttered, “what?”

He grabbed her behind in his strong hands and somehow, managed to rise up, with her clutching at him. His nose burrowed into her ear and she squirmed, giggling, when he grunted, “what a nice little ass!”

“You seem to like it,” she laughed, wrapping her arms around him.

“I love it!”

“Now what about this bargain?” she reminded him, a bit concerned. “What are we doing?”

“Whatever I want!”

“Az!”

“Lainey.”

He headed for the door, with her in his arms, and she screeched, “I don’t even have shoes on!”

“You don’t need shoes where we are going,”

“Azriel!”

“Why are you so fussy?” he mused, smirking, as he made it down the stairs.

“Why won’t you tell me?”

“I don’t have to tell you. All I promised was that it’s not going to be ‘bad’ whatever that means.”

She sighed, shaking her head, muttering under her breath. He, in turn, very much enjoyed her clutching at him, her body in his arms, her wet hair swiping over his arm. She looked very cute, if very ridiculous in his clothes, and frankly, he was too elated, too disbelieving that this was even real, to let her go. He held her and nuzzled at her neck, at her face, sometimes returning to her beautiful mouth.

He carried her through the still-empty premises, though waiters at the bar and delivery people in the kitchen were starting their day. When they saw their boss carrying a woman, who frequently visited him here in the past few months, they pretended not to notice, as if this was a normal affair. In fact, no other woman ever came here, to visit him. He’s never been seen with a woman, never said that he had a girlfriend, even if women seemed to lose their minds in his presence. But until this one—absolutely not the type of a woman he typically attracted—he never allowed anyone to get close to him.

Azriel made his way into the cavernous insides of the building, at last entering the tattoo shop that he had on premises. It was elegantly outfitted and bore his usual aesthetic—restrained, modern, striking with its use of black, white, and splashes of cobalt.

Elain looked around, when he set her down and pointed out, “I’ve been here before.”

He nodded.

As she wandered about, looking at various lithographs and prints with unique tattoo designed, she finally stopped abruptly and whirled to him,

“No!”

He was laughing under his breath.

“No!” she exclaimed again.

“No what?” he winked, sitting down on a stool, and patting on a leather recliner beside it.

“You…” she fumed. “No!”

He tsked, “A bargain is a bargain.”

“Azriel!” she stomped her foot.

He crossed his arms on his chest and looked at her, “Elain.”

“I am not getting a tattoo!”

“You most certainly are. Stop being a wuss and come here.”

“I am not going to,” she insisted.

“You know,” he notified her conversationally, as he started to prep his equipment, “a shitty little Bagarat tattoo is like $800 bucks,”

“Congratulations. Give it to someone else,” she offered, scowling. “Maybe someone would like a sleeve for twenty grand!”

“I won’t give you a sleeve. Jeez, you’ll probably faint at the first prick,”

She huffed, “I will not!”

He shrugged.

She pressed, “I will not. I am not afraid of needles and I have a high pain tolerance.”

“Lots of talk, babe, no action,”

Stomping angrily, she crossed the open space and challenged, “do you even know how to tattoo?”

“Cass and Rhys…” he winked. “And whenever Rowan decides to add to his collection…Or Gavriel,”

Those were some of the finest, most intricate designs that Elain’s ever seen.

“You did those?” she asked, brow furrowed.

He nodded.

“They are beautiful,” she whispered.

“Will you trust me?” his voice softened and he extended his hand to her.

Elain sighed and then slid on the lounge chair. It was comfortable. She was nervous.

“What will it be?” she asked. “May I see it?”

Wordlessly, he pulled a piece of paper from a folder, but then did not give it to her. She waited. He suddenly seemed uncertain, almost shy.

“Az,” she said gently, “may I see it? I am sure it’s beautiful.”

He swallowed and then explained, “I traced it the first day…evening…When we met, and you were here, at the garage. I,” he exhaled and then looked at her, “anyway…I was overwhelmed, I guess. I fell in love with you and all I could think of was you.”

The words warmed her up, and everything in her softened at his nervousness, at his admission.

“I want it,” she took the paper from him.

“It’s just for you,” he clarified. “It’s unique to you. I needed to quiet my brain and capture the essence of you, and this was it,”

Elain looked at the drawing. It was smaller than she expected, and rendered masterfully—an absolutely exquisite flower cradled in an embrace of two wings.

He swallowed tightly, and then said, “It’s called On the Wings of Desire.”

Without saying anything, Elain pulled up the shirt that she was wearing, just up to her chest. He looked down at her, expectantly.

She put her hand under her left breast, where her heart was and said, “there. I need it there.”

He nodded, remaining silent.

She saw that this was important to him, some ritual that he desired for her to go through, some sort of marking. That’s what it was. It dawned on her, at last. This was his mark, on her. He was going to do it himself, put a part of him, of his creation, of his work, not just on her skin, but within her blood, into her.

She clasped his hand and his eyes flew to her, a shadow of apprehension and anxiety in them, probably as much emotion as he’d be willing to show. He feared that she’d changed her mind.

“Az,” she licked her lip, suddenly nervous to request this of him. “Can you,”

“What?”

“Can you do it on you as well?” she proposed quietly.

He, it seemed, was unable to verbalize what he needed to, so she helped him, “Same spot, alright? Across your heart. So you know that I am always with you, as you are with me.”

He nodded vigorously, clearly relieved and absolutely in love with her proposition.

“Who will do it?” she wondered. “Please don’t ask me!” she laughed.

He smirked. “Nuala. She will do it. Only Nuala or Rowan tattoo me.”

She nodded and then relaxed back into the leather.

“No crying,” he said.

“Alright,” she shrugged. “Kind of weird that you are this sensitive to pain, but okay. I’ll hold your hand.”

He was laughing.

“I thought only Nesta had a big mouth like that,” he said, as he prepped the skin and pulled on his gloves.

“Mistake number one,” teased Elain.

“I am seeing that now,”

He then said, “Okay, I may accidentally brush against the boobie,”

“How accidentally?” she chuckled, while he pressed the outline into her skin. Then, the needle began its wheezing and Elain winced, as the first prick of the needle stung her skin.

“You good?”

“Yeah,” it was more painful than she expected, and she figured that the spot that she selected was probably not the best and would hurt more than an arm or a leg, but she was set on it.

“Absolutely, totally accidentally,” he lied. “You are the one who chose the spot,” he pointed out.

Elain was a trooper. She did not make any hissing noises or any sounds at all throughout the tattooing. The shading was the longest and most painful part, and even then, she remained composed and only winced a few times.

“I am sorry,” he murmured repeatedly, especially when a bit of blood seeped onto her skin.

“Prick your finger,” she whispered.

“What?”

“Prick your finger,”

“And?”

The soft doe-eyes blinked at him a few times, and she said, “I think you know what to do.”

So he did. He pricked his finger and mixed his blood with hers.

 Nuala offered to tattoo ‘No Regerts’ on Azriel’s chest, if Elain so desired. She considered it, while Nuala explained that Azriel was now at their mercy and they could do whatever they wanted to him. At the end, he walked away with only a small tattoo over his heart.

 It was about 8 am when Azriel and Elain left the garage. The sun was shining and there were no remnants of the previous storms. It was like it never happened. But it did happen. Everything happened.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, slinging his heavy, muscled arm around her shoulders. She’s been clutching at her side the whole time.

She shook her head no and looked at him. He smiled and then kissed her.

“I love you,” he murmured suddenly. Elain’s face broke into a loving smile and she reciprocated by kissing him back. “Let’s go home.”

[amysteriousmessenger]

‘How the warmth will melt the ice’ - GE Suit Saeran/Reader fic

Title: How the warmth will melt the ice Pairing: Post-canon GE Suit Saeran/Reader (mainly GN with two uses of she/her) Rating: SFW but references to his in-game actions Word Length: 3.4K Summary: post-GE Suit Saeran hasn't seen you in a while, he's been working on stuff in the headspace. One night, he's the only one awake and he's been doing some thinking while you sleep next to him in the bed. Soft, a bit of hurt/comfort. I'm not an expert on DID so please let me know if I've written or phrased something incorrectly!! <3

- 

Saeran had been in the headspace for quite a while. It’s not that he wasn’t allowed out, he just wasn’t sure he trusted himself enough to ever come out, and most definitely not in the company of other people.  He had seen how happy the ‘New’ Saeran had made you, how he treated you with such care and tenderness and considered your feelings above all else. Saeran didn’t trust himself not to ruin it for all of them, especially given his previous actions. They all held that behaviour against him and he was well aware of that, he held it against himself too. He was too angry at the world, and he hadn’t entirely processed that despite all of the time that he had been away. There had been many times where he had criticised Ray for being weak, yet Ray had already been out several times and Saeran never felt brave enough for it. It had also taken him a while to address that, yes, he was perhaps the weakest one out of them all. He never felt like he was ready to properly face his actions even after he had apologised. After all, he was reminded of it every time he saw you through their eyes. He was there every time they brought you food, every time they held your hand, or pulled you into their arms. He was there for all of it. So, sometimes saying ‘sorry’ just wasn’t enough.

He had tried to take over as the host on a few separate occasions while you were at work or out shopping, with the intention of just existing around the house for a little while, but it never worked out so well. He’d sit there for a few minutes, staring at his hands and at what they had done to you before beginning to resent himself even more. Saeran had seen how his hands could hold you with such sweetness and affection, and yet, when he was the one that controlled them they only seemed to inflict destruction upon people. He’d remember that and immediately let the ‘New’ Saeran take over the body, retreating back into his own self-enforced solitary confinement. You were never to know that he had appeared, he made sure that the others were aware of that. Even when you’d asked about him, if he was still in there, he had asked them to speak of him scarcely. He’d see you again in his own time, if he wanted to. He’d always try to ignore the sadness in your eyes when the others told you that, but he thought it was for the best; he’d only ruin the stupid happiness that you had stumbled your way into with the better parts of him.

The night he saw you again, Saeran was the only one awake when he felt you shudder. He blinked, staring at the ceiling for the first time in God knows how long. He hadn’t experienced the world in quite a while, so it took him a few seconds to gather his thoughts. His first reaction was to complain that he had been woken up at such a time, but he had been trying to work on not jumping to immediate anger when it wasn’t justified. He tried to process his surroundings one at time. He was in bed, next to you. It was dark, probably still night-time, and he could hear the cat downstairs running throughout the corridors. The room smelled faintly of lavender, and he knew that one of the others picked it regularly to help the both of you sleep. He felt you shift. He hadn’t seen you in so long, but even as you laid on the other side of the bed to him, he dared not tilt his head out of fear of waking you. The room was quiet aside from the sound of your breathing, but Saeran stared ahead, rigid. Why had he been the one to wake up? It was not as though there was anything happening that required him in particular, one of the others could have easily woken up instead of him. Someone who was needed.

Saeran moved his eyes to your sleeping form, his breath catching in his throat as you slowly rolled onto your back. He didn’t want to wake you up, but he could have laughed. You were never a graceful sleeper. You had your arms above your head with one leg sticking out from underneath the blanket. Perhaps that meant that you weren’t scared of a monster grabbing your ankle from underneath the bed during the night, maybe you had too much faith in the monster in the first place. He watched you for a few moments, his eyes following each subtle rise and fall of your sleeping chest and wondering how anyone could trust him enough to sleep next to him, to let their guard down so stupidly like that.

Of course, this wasn’t the first time he’d seen you sleeping, but it felt as though it was a lifetime ago that he was watching you through CCTV; something that he could never believe he was actually doing. Something lurched in his stomach at the intrusive memory and he began to spiral like he had done each time he was in control of the body, or thought he was in control of it, anyway. It hurt him, but he didn’t take his eyes off of you. While it wasn’t him providing it, you were happier now. Healthier. There was no one to take away your food or trap you behind closed doors. No one to scream that your eyes were ugly. It had taken him too long to realise that the only reason he thought your eyes was ugly was because he could see himself reflected back in them. He could see himself screaming the way his mother had screamed at him, screaming the same things.

Saeran didn’t know how the others had managed to process everything so quickly, although he guessed that the fact that he was adamant about doing it in silence, refusing the therapists help, had something to do with it. Part of the reason he had rejected the therapists attempt to speak to him was because that would be admitting that he needed the help, and Saeran had worked so hard to convince himself that he did not need to rely on anyone for so long that he was not ready to let that barrier come down, especially not to someone he did not know. Besides, he had a slight distaste for the fact she had referred to him as ‘the persecutor’, as though he didn’t have a name. He knew that the other alters in the headspace had anger, had a rage for how they had been treated, but it was no longer their priority. They had each chosen to let go of that grudge in order to enjoy the life that lay ahead of them, and beside them. But Saeran was built with so much anger that it felt as though he consisted only of guarded walls lined with barbed wire, so much so that even if someone stupidly attempted to climb those walls, they would not get away unscathed. He had protected himself with that rage and had needed it to retaliate to anyone who had dared hurt them again. He had to be the strongest because he had too frequently been the weakest.

He was breathing a little heavier, probably from all of the thoughts rushing around his already too busy head. But through learned experience, Saeran was very good at staying quiet and tried to keep his breathing steady so he didn’t wake you up and have to explain himself. It wasn’t as though he could just pretend to be one of the others, he wouldn’t do himself a disservice like that. Once he saw that you were still comfortably asleep, he started to relax a little bit, tilting his head in your direction.

He knew the body was used to being in the bed beside you, but it was still his first time experiencing it as himself. It was a weird concept to him. How did the other Saeran do it? Did he sleep right up beside you, holding you? Or maybe he slept on his back too, since Saeran had woken up on his back. What about Ray, did he still cower on the side of the bed, his back pressed up against the wall? Ready to leap out at any sudden noise? Questions he would never ask them, but often wondered the answers to. In the darkness, Saeran felt as though he could be a little more honest with himself; as though it acted as a blanket for his emotions. He had hidden himself in the darkness for so long that there was a certain comfort to it. He couldn’t see what was lurking around the corner, but he also couldn’t be seen by whatever was waiting for him. It was a more equal playing field.

You shifted again, calling his gaze to your hand. You clenched and unclenched and then clenched again, as though something in your dream was requiring your attention. He wanted to reach out and hold your hand in the same way that the others did, but he couldn’t. Primarily, because he didn’t want to wake you, but also because Saeran didn’t think that he deserved to do so. You’d held out your hand to him so many times and each time he’d smacked it away, or worse, used that extended hand against you. His eyes remained focused on it, placed next to your sleeping head, so soft and small in comparison to his own. He sighed at the guilt seeping into his body as he remembered when you had tried to push him away with those hands, pressing them against his chest. At the time, in some sickened sense, it had amused him that you were so easy to physically overpower, and it gave him such a sense of joy that, for the first time, he was the stronger one in a dynamic. Now, he knew it was because your hands were not made to carry such a destructive force. You hadn’t hurt him because you hadn’t wanted to hurt him, you’d pitied him because you could already see the agony that he was writhing in, whereas he was almost blind to it.

Saeran didn’t deserve to, and yet, he wanted to hold your hand. To feel the warmth that was always so denied to him. He was jealous of the others who could do it so freely, who did not have to sit in anguish over it. The guiltless ones, he carried their guilt for them. He guessed that it was the price he had to pay to be allowed to take up the space he called his own, and for the other ones to be able to live so happily. His own hand twitched under the blanket as he slowly freed it from beneath the sheets. He didn’t place it on yours, but gently positioned it on the pillow next to it, just a few inches away. After a moment of consideration, and calculating the risk, Saeran held his breath and slowly moved the side of his finger up against your hand. His own skin was always cold, but yours was so much warmer than he could have imagined. It held so much love, love that he was so undeserving of. He kept his hand frozen against yours, not daring to move it any closer but not wanting to pull it away.

There were so many thoughts and confusing feelings rushing through Saeran’s head, but he was so grounded by your warm touch that he just wanted to fall asleep in it where he knew you could keep him safe and secure. Perhaps it wouldn’t have been so bad if he could have allowed himself a little bit of vulnerability while no one was awake to witness it. They couldn’t prove that he had let his guard down. Saeran’s cool eyes focused on the sight of your hands against one another before he started to close his eyes and drift off; comforted by the lavender and the skin to skin contact. He wanted to sleep knowing that you were right beside him, just within his reach.

That was, at least, until he heard soft whimpers coming from your side of the bed. It sounded as though you were crying. He began to panic, pulling his own hand away in case he had somehow hurt you. Although he couldn’t do it audibly, Saeran began to curse himself for being the one who had woken up, it should have been one of the others, someone who wouldn’t ruin everything. You were going to leave him, he was going to be abandoned once again and it was all his fault and-

‘S…Sae-ran…’ You whispered, snapping him out of his myriad of self-destruction. He’d woken you up and you were going to scream when you saw him, reliving the horror that he had put you through. The horror that the others had worked so hard to fix in his place. He froze, the predator becoming the prey and burning up his fight or flight response. It was difficult for him to see in the dark but he was able to hear you moving around in the sheets, before muttering his name once more. Well, it was his name, but he knew you weren’t calling for him. He squinted, trying to make out what was happening, and it quickly occurred to him that you were having a nightmare. What did you have to fear when you were asleep? What creatures haunted your dreams and chased you through the forest? He wondered, briefly, in that sad moment, if he was the one in your nightmare, taunting you and robbing you of your freedom. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t wake you up, then you’d know it was him and not your beloved Saeran. It was him in his place, the wrong one. He couldn’t wake you up, freeing you from one monster and then forcing you straight into the company of another.

‘Pull her closer.’ The thought came to him in a whisper, but he wasn’t quite sure if it was his own or one of the others. His hands seemed to move on their own as he scooped you up, pulling you against his chest. Was he trembling? He hadn’t realised he was holding his breath until he sighed. He had had a lot of practice of not making a sound while breathing. This time, when he breathed, all he could smell was you. Your perfume, your shampoo, even the lipbalm you wore for bed. It was like another drug. He’d had you this close to him before, but never like this, never with the tenderness that he managed on that occasion. It was new for him too, allowing someone to get so close. He thought about how many times he had told you that you smelled disgusting, how you made him feel sick to even be around, but it couldn’t have been further from the truth. You smelled like a comfort he had never had.

You sleepily hugged him back, entirely unaware of anything except for the soft embrace of arms around your back: protecting you from whatever ailment plagued you in your sleep. After a minute or so of being pressed against his chest, you stopped shaking. His gaze fell to you, taking in the tired features of your face and carefully watching them melt into a happy peace. The two of you laid there in one another’s embrace in the middle of the bed for a while. Saeran felt such utter confliction at the idea of being the one to hold you. He felt guilty, deciding that you only wanted his touch thinking it was the better Saeran, and that he had somehow deceived you by being the one to hold you in his place. And yet, there was an odd sense of pride pooling in his chest that, this time, he was able to help you instead of hurt you. That was a first for him. It was small, and he was uncertain of it, but he had the hope that perhaps he would able to provide the blanket you needed like the others could. He could be the arms to protect you, instead of the ones you needed protecting from.

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed awake to watch you sleep for, but he wanted to savour the private moment while he still could before you knew it was him. ‘Would it be so bad if she did know?’ That same voice said but he did not have the time it ponder it before he felt the effects of the lavender weighing heavy on the air. He thought that, given how much they enjoyed being outside, that one of the others would have opened the window to let some air in before going to bed. Ironic, really. Maybe it was intentional. After all, you weren’t the only one to get nightmares and needed coaxing to go back to sleep. If there was one thing they had all learned from Rika, it was the effectiveness of plants.

His eyes were getting heavy, and Saeran was no longer someone to pass up on the opportunity of sleep when it was offered to him. He had years of it to make up for. While he could, he placed his chin on top of your head, pulling you a little closer as he did so. His heart was thudding so heavily against his ribcage, to the point he thought maybe that would be what’d wake you up, and that would really be a kick in the teeth for him. However, you squeezed yourself closer to him, causing him to release a shaky sigh. You wanted him closer. It was the feeling of your embrace that Saeran felt before falling back asleep, and he noted the fact that this was the first time he was being held. It was… nice. Safe.

That next morning, you awoke to the smell of breakfast, and heard a couple of cluttering pans in the kitchen. While it was pretty usual for Saeran or Ray to bring you breakfast in bed, he was usually pretty quiet about it, so you thought that maybe he was trying a new recipe and that it had gone wrong. You shuffled out of bed, brushing your teeth and washing your face before heading into the kitchen. Saeran stood with his back to you, fully dressed in his usual white shirt and black trousers, facing the oven. His hair was a little messy, but no one rolled out of bed with perfect hair. It was cute.

‘Good morning, my love.’ You said, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing a little kiss into his back before putting the kettle on.

‘Mornin’.’ Saeran replied, casually. You paused for a second, wondering why he didn’t greet you with one of his typical flowery greetings, or at the very least a term of endearment, but brushed it off figuring that he might just be a little bit tired since it was still pretty early.

‘What do you wanna eat?’ He asked as you set two cups down on the breakfast table before pulling your seat out. His tones and mannerisms were a little different than usual, and you thought- No. Both Ray and Saeran assured you that he wasn’t ready yet. Surely, he wouldn’t just turn up one morning without warning.

‘It looks like you tried to make eggs.’ You laughed, his back still towards you as he cracked another egg into the frying pan and discarded the shell to the side of the oven.

‘Yeah, fuckin’ harder than I remember them being.’ He said, which definitely made you do a double take.

‘Who… are you, if you don’t mind me asking?’ You asked tentatively, not wanting to upset whoever the Saeran in front of you was. You knew he didn’t mind your questions since they never came from a place of malice anyway, but you always wanted to be considerate regardless.

He turned around, leaning back up against the kitchen side. He folded his arms but displayed a very distinctive smirk that you had not seen in so long. It was different this time though, his blue eyes were different. They were still tormented and anguished, but it was no longer directed at you. The ice in his eyes had begun to thaw.

‘What? Don’t you recognise me, doll?’