#this is a tongue-in-cheek post fyi

[dandelionjack]

today doctor who told me that the best thing a lonely autistic kind-hearted doormat people-pleaser can do is sacrifice themselves for a noble cause. not that i haven’t considered it before. LOVE when this show says “death doesn’t necessarily have to be a negative or the end, you live on as a story or a star”, it’s such a refreshing change from all the stay alive at any cost propaganda

[ranticore]

anon from like 5 minutes ago i can't answer that one

[wanderingxiao]

Thirst post! Just spent 4 hours cleaning and waxing my car and literally just thought about this weird but… interesting idea.

High School Scaramouche and Reader and having a free car wash supported by students! I now present you all… (FYI EVERYONE IS 18!)

Suggestive themes, 18+ only plz~ 💜

✨Scaramouche’s Car Wash Adventure✨

‘FREE CAR WASH TO SUPPORT TEYVAT HIGH! SPONSORED BY THE TEYVAT HIGH FOOTBALL AND CHEER TEAM!!!’

A scowl plastered across the teens face as he glanced over at all of the shirtless high school jocks washing cars while spraying each other. Beside them were girls wearing skin tight cropped tops and booty shorts while pressing their chests against other teenage boy cars. What a pathetic sight. He immediately turned his car into the small parking lot, his face turning red in embarrassment. He didn’t want to be seen in such a place, but he was shamefully there for one goal. The reason for stopping appeared in front of him clad In a tank top and some cute shorts. His dark lavender eyes widened In surprise seeing you in such an outfit. He could feel his cheeks becoming hotter when he saw you coming over to his car. He looked around quickly, hiding his vape and any nicotine cartridges from your observant gaze. A light knock came to his window, causing his usually cold heart to race in his chest. He rolled the window down anxiously.

“Hello and wel- oh! Scaramouche! Hey it’s good to see you!” Your fake voice was replaced by a genuine and excited tone as you let the eye of the lonely teen. How could someone so as bright and radiant as you be so nice to someone as cold and brass as him? “Tsk! I came to get my car washed, not to stand around and chat with someone from student council.” The redness of his ears betrayed him, luckily most of his Indigo hair covered them. You only gave him a smile. “Perfect! I’ll get the girls to come over and give you a nice wash.” A small wink was thrown at him from you, suggesting that he was really going to enjoy them coming over to wash his car. He visibly cringed at the thought and called out for you shyly. “Can… Can you wash my car? I don’t trust those airheads to do as much as stand near my car…”

“Hmm?” You blinked at him, a bit surprised at his sudden request. A knowing grin came to your face once you saw him averting his gaze. “Sure, Scara. Give me one second to go grab the scrub.” You trotted away happily, swaying your hips a little more than normal to emphasize your ass for his gaze. It worked too. His eyes instantly were glued to your rear, watching with a hesitant bit to his soft bottom lip. You returned minutes later carrying a bucket with soap and water and in the other some sponges and rags. Huh? Wait a minute. Scaramouche leaned forward in his seat, squinting his eyes to make sure he was seeing thing correctly. Two little beans poked out from your shirt as you sauntered on back to his car. Those two little beads came from your chest. Oh fuck you weren’t wearing a bra anymore. “Holy fuck…”

“I’m back! Now roll up your window and let me give your car a good washing yeah?” Your tone dropped at the end, adding seduction to your tongue, relishing in the way he shifted in his seat and couldn’t keep his eyes off your chest. God was that black tank top thin on you. “J-Just hurry up and clean my car!” He looked away quickly, rolling up his window with a scoff before he shyly looked back over. You smirked knowing he was watching and started to spray down his car, ‘accidentally’ spraying yourself to make your nipples a bit harder due to the coldness of the water. God was Scaramouche enjoying the show. He wanted to pull his phone up and snap a picture so bad, all so he could take it home and jerk off till his balls were empty. “F-Fuck… you’re… teasing me on purpose.”

You couldn’t hear him cursing you in his car, not that he was trying to complain for the show. Next came the soap. You flipped your hair over your shoulder as you turned around, your shorts definitely now shorter than they were when you first came out. You bent over to soak the sponge in the soapy water, giving the liner boy in his car a perfect view of your ass. Your curves were driving the poor boy crazy. His crush on you was undeniably growing deeper and deeper with every little stunt you decided to pull on him right now. You pulled yourself up, smirking over your shoulder at his staring and came back to the window. You scrubbed along his hood and driver side before you pressed your chest right against the window. If he wasn’t hard before he definitely was now.

The way your nipples poked out from your shirt disappeared when your fleshy mounds pressed against his widow. It was so sexy seeing your breasts just flush against his window. He wanted to just lean in and press his face into them. Suffocate himself in them and die a happy man between your tits. Trying to reach the top of his car, you started to slide up and down his window, furthering your actions of lewdly pressing up against his car. Scaramouche couldn’t help but scowl at your teasing behavior, his cheeks becoming red once more before he shamelessly started to palm at his boner. A shaky curse left his mouth as he watched closely as your breasts smeared up and down on the clear glass. His lustful thoughts of you were interrupted when he caught sight of a jock approaching.

“Heyyy, Ms. Secretary.” The sultry voice of a certain ginger cane to your ears, making you turn around with your chest still smushed against Scaramouche’s car. You gave him a slightly glare, cheeks flushed as you didn’t want to reveal your chest so closely to anyone else but Scaramouche. Your crush on him was clear as day, but that didn’t stop the quarterback from coming to try and flirt with you and get into your pants. “Do you need something, Childe? I’m with a customer right now.” The ginger laughed, causing Scaramouche to look around your frame to see the ginger looking you up and down. His hands placed on your hips before he leaned over you against Scaramouche’s car and looked into your eyes. “Well I couldn’t help but notice you being extra slutty with this customer, who’s in there anyways?”

“What the fuck Childe? Back off!” You turned and pushed the boy off of you, putting your hands on your hips and giving him one of your famous glares. The ginger only laughed and whistled as he too caught sight of your nipples greeting everyone through your shirt. Scaramouche could slightly hear your conversation from his car and growled to himself at the rude way Childe was treating you. Jealousy bubbled in his throat and he rolled down his window, not caring if water got into his car. You turned around in surprise to see Scaramouche glaring. “Go mind your own business, block head.” The jock could only laugh and crunch over in amusement at knowing that you were trying to show off for the schools lost infamous loner. “Him?! Wow you sure have stooped low, (Y/N). For shrimp dick over here? That’s the funniest shit I’ve seen all day!”

“Actually-“ You call out aggressively, glaring at Childe before turning to Scaramouche and leaning down towards his face. He backed away instantly at your closeness, confused at what you were about to do. You grabbed his face harshly, pulling him in and slamming your lips against his in a messy kiss. Poor Scaramouche was too stunned at your actions to even kiss you back. You pulled his hair to lean him bsck, forcing your tongue into his mouth to curl over his gums and collide with his own hot muscle. A low groan sounded from his throat, finally melting himself into your touch. Desciding to give Childe a show, you pulled away slightly and swirled your tongue with his just to show Childe the depth of how lewd you were for ‘shrimp dick.’ You pulled away from him and let him go, turning back to Childe with a triumphant smirk. “-he’s my boyfriend. And if you bother me or him, I might just have to tell the student council president what you’ve been doing after school near the dumpsters.”

Childe’s face instantly paled. “You fucking wouldn’t.” He dared. “Oh, I think I fucking would. Now scram, block-head.” You shooed him away, glaring at his retreating form with anger at the way he treated you and Scaramouche. Speaking of him, you turned around quickly with your face completely red, finally coming to terms with what you had just done. “I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t-“ Scaramouche pulled on your shirt, giving him a generous glance at your cleavage before he came to your ear with a demanding tone. Forget the car wash. Just get in and fucking kiss me again.” A rush of heat came rushing through your body, a single tear cascading down your thighs at his dominant tone. You quickly hopped around on the other side of the car and buckled in. “Better idea… let’s just go to your house and let me prove them wrong about you having a shrimp dick.”

“Bring that shit up again and I’m kicking you out.”

He didn’t kick you out, and he definitely did not have a shrimp dick. Thus, starting your weird fucked up relationship with Scaramouche.

Hope you enjoyed my first thirst! Is it a thirst though? Not really sure, but it’s just supposed to be a cute lil’ crack fic not one of my real stories 💜

Next story up… ‘Claiming’ ft. Xiao

Stayed tuned! ;)

-WX

[darklydeliciousdesires]

The Dream - Chapter Three.

So, in case you see this post before the previous one, it’s double update day! if you haven’t read chapter two yet, go on back now *shoos you gently in the direction of previous chapter* :) I wanted to try and split this one as it is longer than usual, but it would have disrupted it too much. Besides, this is where things begin to come to the surface! Enjoy! 

Previous chapters - Prologue  One  Two

Tag list - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed (note: those not engaging will be automatically removed from the tag list, FYI)

Words - 4,141

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

Opening her eyes, Keri saw she was in a bedroom completely bathed in white, the sound of the ocean audible and the bed linen luxurious in feel, just as brilliant white and crisp as the rest of the room. Wherever she was, it was a gorgeous house, turning onto her back and stretching, her arm suddenly touching against something warm at her side. Turning her head, there he was within the bed, just as naked as she, and god, he looked good.  

She wanted to say something to him, but as usual, found herself falling into kisses, the heat of his skin sumptuous as they entwined beneath the sheets, his body covering hers, hands running down her sides. One simple shift, and he could be inside of her, his cock rigid at her hip, but he resisted the temptation. Reality Angel wouldn’t have had quite the same inclination.  

Pulling away, he stroked her hair, looking down into her huge eyes. “Tell me your name, who are you?”  

She attempted to speak, but was stumped, that feeling of a stone lodged in her throat returning to her. So, she just pressed her mouth to his again and felt his tongue circle with hers, a deep groan coming from his throat as his hands slid down, gently cupping at her breasts. The feeling of his thumb skimming over her nipple finally prompted her, a soft exclamation leaving her mouth, her eyes closing as she arched against his muscular, tattooed form.  

To her dismay, when she opened them again, she found herself awake, rubbing her eyes and reaching to her nightstand, switching her lamp on and opening up the little book she’d began to journal her dreams within. Although she was still half asleep, she was desperate to write down every last detail of the dream before she forgot it, her notes a little messy. Jaime would have fun deciphering such chicken scratch, she thought.  

By then she had a collection of sixteen dreams to show Frankie's girlfriend, one for each night since it had started fifteen days ago, and one more slotted in when she'd been lucky enough to have two in one night. Since it was a Saturday and they had planned to hook up to work on their project, Keri decided she had enough evidence of her dream life to show Jaime, so decided to put her journal into her bag before she forgot about it and go back to sleep for a few hours. It was only just gone 7am, after all.

Arriving at their little one-bedroom apartment further into Provo (she and her family lived right on the outskirts, up by the mountains) at just gone eleven thirty, she was greeted with a kiss at the door by Frankie, taking a croissant from the plate proffered forth, biting into it. Chocolate and cinnamon. Oh, her girl knew how to do breakfast.  

“Oooh, is that a dream journal I spy being taken from the bag?” Jaime asked from her spot on the couch, Keri handing it over and giving her a kiss on the cheek, laughing through her nose and wiping away the croissant crumbs she’d left behind.  

“You spy correctly.” She’d picked it up at one of the little gift stores in town, next door to the little chocolatier she worked at part time, enjoying a rare Saturday off since she was covering the Sunday shift that week instead.  

Plopping herself down on the luxe couch, which in fact was old and thread bare in places, only luxurious from the large, velvet throw and many, many pretty cushions the girls had adorned it with, Keri continued to eat her breakfast while Jaime opened it up and began to read, draping a leg over her thigh in her usual fashion as she got comfy, Frankie joining them to her other side.  

“Oh wow,” she began, studying the notes Keri had made. “This is in such incredible detail; I'll need some quiet time with it. I'll leave you two to chatter about photographs while I digest it, without having to listen to jargon about lenses and lighting effects.” Untangling herself, she stood up, barely tearing her eyes away from the page.

“Just because you don't know one end of a camera from another doesn't mean it's jargon,” Frankie scolded playfully, she and Keri spreading out across the extra room.

Jaime grinned, leaning down to kiss her girlfriend’s forehead. “It does when you don't give a shit into the workings behind the end result of a pretty picture.”

“Oh, with your blasphemy! Get out!” Frankie yelled comically, reaching out to smack her on the butt as she walked around the couch, heading towards the kitchen.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m going.” she called back over her shoulder. And so while Jaime went to read through the notes Keri had provided for her, the girls sat on the couch and began to look through print outs they had done on a traditional camera, both commenting it had been fun to use the darkroom at college for developing the pictures themselves, and deciding they would do it again rather than relying so heavily on digital images.

While they talked all things photography related, the laptop being brought out once more, Jaime sat and sipped on a bottle of mineral water while reading through the series of excellently detailed descriptions of Keri's dreams. It became apparent pretty quickly that whereas she could perhaps interpret the meanings of the dreams based on the surroundings and actions, she couldn't answer the crucial question; why she dreamt of the same man time and time again, when he was someone she professed to have never seen before in her life.

Usually, as she understood it, when you dreamed of someone repeatedly, it was because that person had some kind of profound impact on you or your conscience. For example, when Jaime was five, she had reoccurring dreams about her little sister crying over the China doll whose face she'd accidently broken, but not owned up to. When she’d gotten into interpreting her dreams later in life, she had learned that it had represented her feelings of guilt towards upsetting her sister and not confessing to being the guilty party.  

Why Keri was having such intense dreams over a man who she’d never even seen before, let alone knew, she just couldn't work out. Not without a few of her books in front of her for resource, at least. Hopping from the stool at the small counter, she raced out and through to her bedroom, pulling a few volumes from the shelf and scurrying back once more, referencing the index and beginning to read.  

She found that sometimes, dreaming of a person you didn’t even know meant they could be a placeholder for someone they didn’t want to see, for whatever reason. The fact that Keri always ended up in a passionate embrace with the man was at odds with such a theory, though. Also, they could be a manifestation of the part of the self yet to be seen, so she read.  

“Perhaps he’s a symbol of strength? Big guy, muscles, he could be representing that.” she muttered to herself. She made notes as she went, sharing her thoughts once present in the lounge again.  

“Okay, so I have a few things,” she began, seating herself on the arm of the couch as she picked at her tangle of blonde dreadlocks. “He could be one of a few things. He could be a placeholder for someone you don’t want to see, just a random person your brain is dreaming up in place of that person it doesn’t want to imagine, he might be a representation of strength, inner strength within you that you are yet to see manifest, or, and this one is weird, he might be your soulmate from a past life, coming back to you.”

“Oh, the kooky, kooky, spooky, spooky,” Frankie sang, receiving the soft thud of a book atop her head.

“Those aren’t even the kookiest things I read!” Jaime cried. “I also read he could be an astral projection, Keri could have had a spell cast on her, or she might be the one in his dream. There, is that kooky enough for you?”

Frankie’s mouth thinned. “And I’m quiet now.”

Jaime made a ‘hmph’ noise, shaking her head. “You’ve never been quiet a day in your damned life!”  

“Anything else?” Keri asked, not too convinced by what she had heard so far.

“Erm, well if he’s Native American, then he might be a dream walker. Why he’d be appearing to a little white girl from Utah, though, that’s anyone’s guess.”

“He isn’t, he’s Hispanic.” She pursed her lips, wracking her brains. “What do you personally think he is? What’s your opinion?”

“I kinda lean toward him being a representation of something. I suppose it would help if you could actually control yourself in being able to speak to him, rather than feeling as if everything you say, you have no control over as you’ve detailed in your journal. If he is a representation of something, he’ll likely tell you. Why he hasn’t already is befuddling, though. These signs, they speak up. They aren’t elusive if they come to us, especially if they carry with them a message.”  

Keri sat, her already big eyes widening, puffing out her cheeks as she released the breath she’d been holding. “Sorry, did I bombard you?” Jaime offered, reaching across Frankie to grasp her hand sweetly.

“No, no you didn’t, don’t worry,” she began, smiling. “I really appreciate your help. I just need to be able to get a hold on being able to speak to him. Maybe that will yield answers.”

Jaime was quick with more advice there. “Have you ever heard of a thing called lucid dreaming? It means you are aware you're dreaming, but with time you can manipulate your dreams to your own desires. It's very interesting. There are so many websites out there you can research, or I have books? Up to you.”  

“I think I’ll look online first, but thank you for the offer.”

“No thank you! Finally, something I can get my teeth into with dreams! I have boring ones for the most part, and Frankie thinks it's all a load of crap, so it's nice to have someone I can talk about it with!”  

After that, they decided to put aside everything dream or college related aside and enjoy their day, heading out shopping and then for lunch before meeting up with Ash, Rachel and Aaron, going bowling and then onto their local haunt The Lounge for a few beers.

Arriving home in the early hours, Keri put her head around the lounge door to say hello to her mother and her partner, David, who were still up watching a movie before disappearing upstairs to begin reading up on lucid dreaming, as Jaime had advised. She felt as if she'd get no others answers or reasons as to why he was there whenever she went to sleep unless she asked him herself, even if he was just a person her subconscious had created, she really had begun to question why she found him there in her dreams.

Up until two weeks ago, she’d never taken stock in the importance of dreams and their meanings, but what she felt whenever she was with him in sleep was so powerful, she couldn't help but become more and more intrigued with each dream that went by.  

As she read, picking out interesting parts here and there, she began to practice the techniques mentioned, hoping she could carry some of them with her when her eyes fluttered shut into the realm of sleep a little later. They wouldn’t work until she was actually asleep, but she felt it was good practice to at least familiarise herself with the techniques. That night, she found her voice quicker than she expected, but she still couldn't control her actions.

Slipping into the dream, she took in her surroundings, standing in a very ornately decorated room, hues of deep emerald, lots of black furniture, reminding her somewhat of the set of a vampire film, with the gothic and eerie accents scattered around. Even the candle flames burned green. It reminded her a little of the very first time she’d dreamed of him, that old house, everything tinged in a green hue.  

Walking around the room, she tried out a few of her techniques, wanting to be able to reach out and run her finger over the back of the chaise, focusing hard, her hand reaching for the black wood. She was elated at leaving behind a mark in the dust, turning to continue walking, jumping a little to see the man standing there.  

She smiled widely and walked over to him, feeling him pull her into his arms, a place she always felt unquestionably safe, whenever she was there in her dreams. His hand tangled in her hair, fingertips stroking her scalp as he leaned to her, their lips meeting in a kiss.  

“So, are you gonna tell me who you are, and why you keep invading every dream I seem to have?” he asked, his hands rubbing her back. What? But... but he was in her dreams!

'I'm Keri and you're in my dream,” she corrected. “I'm real, you're not!” It took a lot, but she was glad to have managed some control, keeping focused and concentrating hard on his face, using it as an anchor, to root herself into focus.  

He shook his head. “Nope, you're the figment of the imagination here, my imagination! Every time I fall asleep, there you are, and you're bugging me. I don't even know who you are.”

“I’m Keri, I just told you.”  

“And you say you’re the real one? What the...” Before he could finish his sentence, they both jumped back, a large, black wall suddenly rising up from the floor, cutting the room in half and separating them. Keri pressed her hands against the bricks, smacking her palms into them.  

“Hello? Can you hear me?” Meanwhile, on the other side...

“Keri? Yo, you still there?” He heard nothing in reply, turning around, trying out another of the lucid dreaming techniques. “I want her to appear again.” When he turned, someone was indeed there, but it wasn’t the girl who now at least had a name. There in the corner, sat an elderly woman at a small table, her eyes completely whited over, blindness, he gauged, holding her hand out to him.  

“You seek answers, Angel? Sit.” Her long fingers swept towards the chair, Angel moving over and taking a seat.  

“Yeah, yeah I gotta couple of questions over who the hell that Keri girl is, and why I keep dreaming about her,” he began, the woman nodding. She picked up a quill from the table in front of her, dipping it into the small pot of ink beside where her arm rested. She then began to write upon the piece of paper before her, blowing on the words before turning it around to show him. Girl_Where_Photo.  

“What?”  

The old woman screwed it up in a second, casting it onto the floor. “Remember it.” With a loud clap of her hands right in front of his face, he awoke with a start. Meanwhile...  

Watching the old woman scrawl across the paper, Keri felt unnerved, the wall yet to drop again, her eyes flitting over to see if the man reappeared, trying her techniques in order to get him to do so.  

“Girl!” the woman barked, holding up the piece of paper. Find him in the lounge. What on earth did that mean? “Remember it.” A loud clap of her hands made her wake in an instant, reaching for her journal, writing it all out.  

“Find him in the lounge? I mean...” she paused, looking at her bedroom door. “No. He is not in my damned lounge! That’d just be too spooky. This is real life, my brain punking me. It has to be.”  

Angel, however, was about to discover just how much his brain wasn’t punking him. With a little more to go on than Keri, he entered those words along with their underscores into Google, taking a breath before his thumb hit search. Instagram.com/Girl_Where_Photo. His heart hammered. Clicking the link, the page loaded, and there she was.  

“Oh hell no!” His phone left his hand at speed, Angel flinging it across his bedroom. She was real, an actual person. Keri existed. Throwing the covers off himself, he pulled on his sweats, pacing through to the lounge and picking up his cigarettes, lighting one up as he sat down on the couch. He could see the illumination of his phone screen just by the door into his bedroom glowing through the darkness, the light both a beacon that called out for his attention and a flare of warning.  

Whatever side he landed on that juxtaposition, he remained much too freaked out to pick it up.  

“I'm Keri and you're in my dream. I'm real, you're not!”

They were dreaming the same dreams together. They had to be, but his brain seriously couldn’t deal with that. Nope. It had shut down. It took two more cigarettes and three shots of tequila for him to even be able to go grab his phone, his persistent inquisitiveness taking over. He took a deep breath, opening the screen once more, looking at her Instagram account.  

“Keri. Clicker of photo’s, lover of peanut butter, Provo village idiot. Not to be trusted with ketchup.”  

He snorted laughing at her self-deprecating humour, her little jokes poking fun at herself steadying him when he felt as if he was spiralling. Clicking on a picture, his heart almost beat clean out of his chest. Yep, that was definitely her, the girl in his dreams. “How the actual fucking fuck is this real? This some supernatural bullshit, I swear to Jesus.”

Stubbing out his cigarette, he reached for his smoke box, needing something considerably stronger to calm down again, but sadly finding he was all out. This could possibly be rectified easily, though.  

“And what brings you to my cell phone at three seventeen in the morning, brother-in-law?” Sharise answered on the third ring.  

“I was wondering if there was any chance you were having a sleepless night, and if so, can I come make a nuisance of myself?”

“Mi casa es tu casa.”  

“Thanks, I’ll be there in ten.” He threw on a t shirt and his sneakers, picking up his keys, cell and cigarettes before leaving, heading the short walk to his brother’s house. He and Sharise had found the property a year ago, just after they’d gotten married, Angel noticing the realtor sign out on the front lawn on his way to the yard one morning and telling his brother about it as soon as he’d seen him. It was only the second house they’d viewed, but they fell in love with it, putting in an offer on the spot that had been swiftly accepted by the keen-to-sell owners.  

Sharise had put her personal touch on it all the way through, from the décor inside that was blended African and Mexican, to all of the large, wooden and stone statues that adorned their backyard, Tiki torches often lighting the perimeters, the space very much hers as she loved to garden. It was where after trying the gate and finding it to be open, he guessed he would find her.  

“Morning,” she spoke, sitting in her large wicker chair, her feet up on the table before her and a massive blunt in her hand.  

“Hey, Bob.” He often called her that, on account of the fact that when he first met her, he’d been so drunk, he couldn’t quite say her name correctly. “Just call me Bob!” she’d spoken at the time, very entertained by him. It had stuck.  

“So, what brings you to my manor at 3.30am, then?” she questioned, blowing out a series of neat smoke rings, handing the blunt to him. “By the look on your face, you’re in need of some fine weed.” It was Sharise’s business, a purveyor of extremely good cannabis, owning Santo Padre’s only dispensary so far since the ban had been lifted. Before then, she’d still sold it, but not legally, of course.  

Angel took a long drag, holding the smoke tightly in his lungs. God, she really did get the best weed he’d ever had, and that said something, with the amount he’d had smoked over the years. “I'm too freaked the fuck out to sleep. If I hadn’t come over, I think I’d have panicked.”

She inclined her head, finger rooting in her braids to scratch her scalp. “Well, you do appear to have taken on the demeanour of someone who has seen a ghost. Care to share?”

Even though he planned to reveal all to her, he still took a moment to pause. “You know how I was reading about the whole lucid dreaming thing, right?”  

She cast her mind back. “Yeah, vaguely. Go on.” And so he did, explaining it all for her as succinctly as possible, Sharise nodding, her eyes widening right at the end as she took the blunt back from him.  

“Okay so I know you aren't yanking my chain, for you to believe in anything remotely like that is a stretch. Even though I still class you as an open-minded guy, the thought of it being real is a bit of a leap of faith for anyone, really. You know, unbelievable as it sounds, I'm sure I've heard of things like that happening before, except it usually happens between close friends or family,” she commented, flicking the long trail of ash onto the floor. “So, you truly are like Martin Freeman in The Good Night, dreaming of a girl you’ve never even met.”  

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I mean, I ain’t seen the movie, but I guess I am, if that’s what happened to him.” He paused, sighing, rubbing a hand over his face. “Do you know about this stuff, then? You kinda spoke from a place that sounds like you do.”

“Oh, not in any kind of detail,” she confessed, taking another drag on the blunt. “Just something I read one time that stuck with me, because I found it so fascinating.” Searching his wide-eyed face, she passed the blunt back, shuffling her chair a little closer to him. “I see you’re likely finding it anything but, though, to discover the girl in your dreams is an actual person, who more likely than not is experiencing the exact same dreams as you.”

He nodded, covering the hand that rested against his forearm, stroking her heavily ringed fingers with his thumb. “You ain’t wrong, Sharise. If this was happening to anyone else, I’d be telling ‘em to lay off the magic mushrooms, you know? Or telling them I ain’t that easy to fool, because it’s fucking unbelievable, isn’t it?”

She shrugged, her face passive. “Stranger things have happened. You might just have a cosmic connection with her, and your dreams are the way you find it.”  

“I don’t believe in all that, though.”

“Just because you don’t believe, it doesn’t mean it can’t happen.” Fuck. That struck him hard, Angel realising she made a very valid point. Sharise knew it, too, yet her face remained soft. Even when she was right, she had such dignity with it; except with her husband, who she enjoyed holding a little bit of self-righteous superiority over whenever she could. It was all playful, though. “Despite this Keri girl being very much real, you question your own sanity a little bit, don’t you?”

Perceptive. She was that, too.  

Angel stretched, beginning to nod. “Yeah, I guess I do. It’s just so... inconceivable!”  

“You know there’s something you could do here, don’t you, to maybe make it feel a little less weird?” He looked at her blankly, Sharise uncrossing and recrossing her legs at the ankle when her foot began to go to sleep. “Send her a message.”

“Dude.” A look of trepidation immediately crossed his face. “I’m only a half hour past throwing my phone across the bedroom.”

Her laughter tinkled through the quiet of the garden. “Then for now, how about we just sit and get nicely stoned. If you get too baked, you can take the spare room.” It might have only been a ten-minute walk away for him to get home, but she knew how potent her weed was.  

He took the blunt she handed him, patting her knee as he reached to pass her smoke box when she gestured towards it. “What would I do without my Bob, huh?”

“Panic on your own?”  

Once again, she was correct.  

[ieiiri]

Command me - a jurdan fanfic

Summary Cardan is under Jude's command for one year and one day, not a minute more, but sometimes it certainly feels like it's the other way around.

Word count: 242

Warnings: minor spoliers for the cruel prince

A/N Hi!! this is the first fanfic I ever posted. I've been writing for several years just never wanted to share any of it until now so hopefully you'll enojoy it. I also posted this to AO3 (under the same username, ieiiri) just to test the different platforms.

I wrote this scene when I had finished the cruel prince but not started the wicked king yet and only imagined what could happen in the 2nd book. It's very short, but wanted to start with something small. FYI, english isn't my first language but whatever.

Thanks for reading :)

Fanfic:

Cardan’s hands traveled down Jude’s arms until they held her wrists. Slowly he rose them above her head, before pushing them back, making her fall into the wall.

She couldn’t breathe. He was so close to her, she could feel his warmth. He kept leaning closer and she thought he might kiss her. Her eyes stared at his, but he stopped a hair's breadth away. When he spoke, Jude could feel his lips ghost over hers.

“Command me to stop.” The disgust in his voice was echoed by a desire. Jude thought of the way he had tried to hold himself back when she kissed him in the Court of Shadows. The hatred that overshadowed his want for her. Was he searching for a reason to stop himself? Or was he mocking the way her cheeks had flushed and she so willingly had been pushed against his wall?

“I-” her voice croaked. “I command you…” Just like she had felt his lips when he spoke, Jude was cursed to do the same. With the wall behind her, there was no escape from the maddening softness, melting every thought away. “I command…”

As the words died on her tongue, Cardan slammed his lips on hers as if a thread had snapped within him.

[liptonrm]

FYI to my poor, long-suffering followers: As you can probably tell, I watched and did not hate that Rings of Power show. Once a Tolkien nerd, always a Tolkien nerd I guess.

In any case, I'm going to have "thoughts" and "opinions" and I'm going to reblog things. So if you'd like to skip that, I'll be tagging everything #rings of power.

Thank you all for your understanding during this difficult time.

[originaljediinjeans]

Therapist: The reason you have such a hard time is because you don't accept things

My self-destructo brain: So if I can't accept things then I just be even more hard on myself? Got it.

[onlyseokmins]

tipsy • l.s.m.

Pairing: lee seokmin x afab!reader

Genres: smut (minors dni!), established relationship!au, drunk/tipsy (consexual) sex

Warnings: swearing, alcohol, oral (m&f receiving), multiple orgasms (reader), wee bit fingering, banter, unprotected sex and cumming inside, and them just being tipsy drunk and so sickeningly in love 🤢 as always pls lmk if i missed smth

WC: 3.5k

A/N: thank you for your utmost patience @katetattoolover 🥺❤️ I hope this finds you well and you enjoy this, I adore you <3 as this is a request, there isn't a taglist FYI my tagging lovelies 🫡 anyways I think I lost my touch but I hope y'all enjoy this after not posting for a hot second

"What's two minus one?"

"… One?"

"Yeah, you're my number one and the love of my life."

Drying off your face, you sneak a peek at your boyfriend staring intently into the large mirror of your shared bathroom. "Are you flirting… with yourself?"

He gasps, affronted. "No! 'm in a very committed relationship with someone special, thank you very much. Can't you see?" 

When his arm waves vigorously to the side, all you can do is stick your tongue out at your own reflection he's gesturing toward. "Yep, that's me!"

"No, you're a figment of my imagination trying to seduce me. Kept staring at me all night, 'm not stupid."

"That's 'cause you're hot."

He was. Seokmin's best look was a white dress shirt and jeans. And the way he kept loosening the buttons as he relaxed further into the evening with more and more glasses of alcohol made him all the tastier. How could you not stare at the man that was all yours?

"You're a demon," your partner continues to grouch and then turns to face the real you with a very, very serious look on his face. He's lucky you're just starting to sober up enough so you won't accidentally burst into laughter, at least cognizant enough of his feelings that were extremely fragile at the moment. "Now this is the real thing." 

Brushing back dark wet bangs with your fingers, you can't help but smile when he leans into your touch. "I'm just a thing?"

"No! You're more than a thing… you're… you're…" 

You can practically see the gears struggling to turn in his brain. "This is why I told Jeonghan to stop topping off your glass 'cause look at you now, baby, you're so drunk."

"'m not drunk, 'm Seokmin."

"Yes, yes you are."

"And I was excited."

"You were."

"And I'm so so so so proud of you."

You gaze into his shiny brown irises that hold galaxies of love for you. The same ones you kept meeting as they followed you around the room after Joshua pulled you away so the group could congratulate you properly for all of your hard work. Looking at you with so much pride and adoration that you returned, causing your friends to jokingly gag at how in love you both were. The beautiful eyes that crinkle up in a gorgeous eye smile when you've had a long day, gauging your movements with concern to try and provide whatever comfort he can. 

Those lovely and familiar orbs now look like they might shed tears at any moment.

You pat his flushed cheek. "What's wrong?"

"I just love you lots."

"I love you too, Seok, so don't cry." You stagger back when he buries his face in your neck, thrown off by the sudden weight because you're still a little tipsy yourself.

"'m not crying."

"Maybe we should go lay down now?"

He nods and releases you from his grasp — thankfully — and you can't help but chuckle at the mixture of water and tears that shine on his skin. After wiping them away, you take his hand in yours and lead him into the bedroom.

"Why don't you seem drunk?"

"'Cause someone kept drinking from my glass."

"I'll beat their ass."

You quirk an eyebrow at him teasingly. "So you'll beat your own? Kinky, didn't know you were into that."

His mouth opens and closes like a fish before he shouts, "That's because!", before clearing his throat and repeating quieter. "That's because 'Han kept filling it up when you weren't looking."

"Yeah, he was a real gremlin tonight, probably had everyone drinking double what they should be while Cheol and Gyu only enabled it by splurging on a crap ton of alcohol."

In the end, no one really meant any malicious harm. They wanted to celebrate with you and Seokmin at your house, bringing over a truckload of food, drinks, and a vast amount of different shit only twelve men plus their partners managed to get their hands on. Still, over half of them had passed out before midnight and it took well until two in the morning for the entire crew to sober up safely and leave a little bit ago.

Even the waters you and Seokmin had been sipping on since didn't alleviate the buzz that still rang in your ears. However, that didn't really matter as you tumble into bed together. It was soon drowned out by muffled giggles and eventual light snores when you both dozed off.

You wake up not much later, feeling extra warm. The covers have all ended up wrapped and tangled around you. Seokmin must be feeling the same, the robe he'd had on earlier discarded on the floor. Shirtless, his bare back facing you is illuminated by the moonlight slipping through the curtains. As if under a spell, you can't help but reach out and trace light circles along his shoulder blades with your nails. 

"You up?" he asks and turns to sleepily smile at you when your movements halt, "hi."

"Hey, you."

"I'm hot."

"Yeah, you are."

"No," he pouts, "I'm like super warm." 

After placing a hand on his forehead, a frown slightly turns your lips downwards because he is heating up, sweat glistening at his hairline. "Are you feeling okay? Here, let me go get you — "

"Stay," a warm hand grabs at your arm before you can move away, "make it better."

"That's what I'm trying to do, doofus."

"Mhm, but you know how you can help me, right?" Seokmin brings your fingertips to graze along his chest with a lazy grin. "You'll make me feel alright again, yeah baby? Do it for me?"

He's released his grip but your fingers continue to trail downward, snorting as his smirk grows wider. "If you wanted to get sucked off so badly, all you had to do was ask."

"I did tho, didn't I?" His eyelashes flutter when you start to play with the waistband of his boxers. "I was a good boy, right? You always know what I need."

It's a little ironic, really. Although you're simply teasing each other, it's very rare for your boyfriend to give in to his own wants and needs, even during sex. He's a pleaser, a giver, and a dedicated lover. So, it's no surprise to feel an overwhelming ego boost when he's pliant beside you, asking sweetly for your touch with puppy dog eyes no one can resist.

"You're always so good to me," you assure and lean to peck at his lips, minty breaths mingling together. Then you're marking his jaw with kisses that trail down his neck, underneath his pecs, past his abs, and lower and lower until you're sliding off his boxers. "Gonna treat you like you deserve, baby."

His soft "thank you, love" melts into a desperate whine when you finally unclothe him and wrap your hands around his cock. It lies hot and heavy against your palm causing you to instinctively lick your lips, jaw already aching. Meeting his lidded gaze that's simply waiting for your next movement, you can't help but giggle when he raises an eyebrow at the mischievous way you smile before blowing lightly at his hardening length.

"Hey!" Seokmin yelps, hips jerking up in shock, "what was that for?"

"Just cooling you down, babe."

"Don't tease me," he huffs in indignation before lifting his pelvis up on purpose, brushing the head of his cock against your bottom lip. "Please."

When the love of your life begs so sweetly like that, who are you to resist? Licking the smear of precum left behind ignites a hungry spark that glints in your eyes — and you give into what you both want. 

Your tongue eagerly laps up the leaking salty excess as your lips wrap around his sizable girth. Alternating between sucking, licking, swirling, and even grazing your teeth carefully along the underside of his cock as you work him deeper and further into your mouth. It's sloppy and pornographically loud. No rhyme or reason with the way your brain is still muddled with the faint buzz of alcohol and sleep, mixed with a lot of good, horny feelings. 

Seokmin loves it best that way… if his whimpered praises are anything to go by. 

"God, baby, look how gorgeous you are like this. Treat me so well always, love you so much, shit… best thing that ever happened to me."

Head thrown back to display how his Adam's apple bobs when he feels the way your throat constricts around the tip before you pull off slightly. His hips unapologetically take on a mind of their own, gently thrusting back and forth to hear more of those pretty gagging sounds you make for him.

It feels too good and he's afraid he won't be able to stop. Seokmin knows you'll tap his thigh if you need a break but you're as far gone into it as he is. Moaning freely, pussy clenching painfully around nothing, and drooling saliva that leaks all the way down his balls. You don't want him to stop, crazed by how he's using you like his perfect little toy to get off.

But he pulls away all too suddenly — mainly to let you breathe — but before you can reach back out to take him into your mouth again, he's pulling you up by your shoulders. Stealing your breath again but this time with a kiss. Gently soothing your abused mouth with soft licks and pecks, humming in contemplation.

"This what I taste like?"

"Mhm, pretty yummy, huh?"

Your boyfriend thinks it's sexy that you like it but — there's something he obviously enjoys more. "It's alright, I guess… I prefer having you on my tongue instead, though."

You should've known what was coming next but you still squeal in surprise when he's urging you out of your sleep shorts and underwear. Muttering something about "gotta eat this pretty pussy out" before he's commanding you to sit on his face.

You're a little caught off guard by the delay of his pleasure but all you can do is obediently position your thighs around his head, slipping back into the standard mode of operation that Seokmin usually revels in anyways.

One of your hands flies out to support your weight, gripping onto the headboard while the other threads through his bangs because your man might be a little too excited to stick his tongue inside. 

"Aw baby," he practically growls, "look at how nice and wet you are from just a little sucking on my dick." The vibrations cause you to shiver and you feel his lips quirk up in a devious smirk at that. "Cute."

His tongue runs along your folds with little kitten licks paired with harsh sucks. He's awfully eager for someone who has eaten you out many times before but that's simply because he's addicted. The groans Seokmin makes put your earlier noises to shame. You might've been embarrassed if your own loud moans weren't drowning him out.

"Fuck, Seok… you're so good at this," you pant and rock your hips, grinding down just a little. 

He grunts in approval, appreciation, and acknowledgment. It's more than true. Even when he was new at giving oral, his efforts and features made up for whatever uncertainty he held. 

You would continue to suck him off while he ate you out if possible. But the way his nose brushes and nudges against your clit just right as it always does… you've never thought to switch up positions. What a shame, really.

It takes everything in you to lean back. Seokmin is none the wiser, thinking you're only shifting in the heat of the moment for more enjoyment until your hand fumbles for his cock behind you. He jolts at your touch, tapping your thigh. You struggle to lift up, barely any strength thanks to your trembling thighs. 

"What're you doing?"

"Wanna jerk you off."

"Yeah?" he snickers, naughty fingers stroking your outer pussy lips to gather up your wetness before slipping inside to replace his tongue for a bit. It's the absolute fear of potentially crushing his windpipe that prevents you from ultimately collapsing (and maybe the strong hand on your hip). "But I wanna feel you wrapped around me and I don't mean your hand."

"What are you gonna do about it then?" you challenge. As if the smirk on his face doesn't exist when you clench tightly around his three fingers at the mere mention of his cock inside you. They curl up to brush against the bundle of nerves that causes you to writhe in pleasure.

Seokmin watches you with a lazy grin. Although love always shines in his eyes, lust is overtaking that wholesome glimmer with a carnality that has you shaking without even reaching a climax yet. He knows this and relishes it.

"What am I doing about it? Hmm, I think I'll have to make sure you cum at least once so you can take my dick properly. Gotta loosen you up, like the loving boyfriend I am." His fingers begin moving at a rapid pace, taking you by surprise. With a squeal, you nearly drop right down on him. "Isn't that right, baby?"

"Ah…. yes!"

He nudges you forward a little bit, satisfied with your response. Pulling his hands away from your body completely, you feel the bundle of nerves snap just as he releases his grip. Your orgasm hits the minute Seokmin's lips meet your lower ones and you both moan in tandem. Loud enough to rival a porn star when he starts sucking like a heathen and laps up the wetness that spills out of your hole with your release.

You clamber off of him — very ungracefully — and flop down on your side, trying to catch your breath. "You're insane."

"You love it."

"Just because you think you're right, doesn't mean you have to say it."

Seokmin grins and licks his fingers clean before they softly cup your cheek. When he turns to face you, his cock slaps lightly against your thigh, reminding you he hasn't cum yet. But he's in no rush, leisurely kissing you before it deepens and you taste each other on both of your tongues.

"I'm always right," he mumbles, tongue brushing across your lips, "because you do taste the best between the two of us."

You slap his arm. "Stop!"

"You didn't deny it so I win."

"Do you want to fuck around and not have sex or would you rather I go to sleep?"

"Now, now," he chastises sweetly and nudges you so your back is pressed tightly against his firm, broad chest. "Be nice, sweetheart."

You roll your eyes. "I can't with you, oh my go — "

But your "Omigod" changes from annoyed to breathless when his large, warm hand fondles your chest while the other teasingly nudges the tip of his cock between your folds. 

"What were you saying?" Seokmin mocks in a sickeningly sweet voice but you can only moan in response. "Uh-huh, that's what I thought."

He's tortuously slow. Although, it's not entirely on purpose. He's still too out of it to have the energy to change positions and even as much as he enjoys watching you bounce yourself silly on top of him, he figures you don't have the strength to do so. 

But this is somehow even better. You gasp, feeling every single thick, long, big inch of him enter you while pressing hot kisses against the back of your neck. 

"You're so pretty," he murmurs once he's bottomed out. The two of you stay still like that, simply reeling in the emotional connection — emotionally and quite literally — wrapped in one another's warmth. "My love."

"I adore you. Sometimes. More often than not."

He chuckles. "Is that so?"

After a while, you're wiggling your hips and signaling to your boyfriend that he can move if he wants to. You're honestly impressed with his control, wondering how long he plans on prolonging his raging boner. Not that you're complaining. You're more than happy to cockwarm him at any time around the clock. But it has to be slightly painful to stay hard for that long.

Seokmin's thrusts aren't rushed but they're by no means set in a smooth, consistent rhythm, betraying his desperation. It might just be the alcohol canceling out any sharp movements and it makes you consider having sex a little bit more often this way. Indulging in an open-mouthed kiss that's equally as relaxed and sensual as his pace, you could almost fall asleep again in the most delicious way. 

But of course, Seokmin is having none of that.

"You can give me one more right, baby?"

"Mhm."

His hand leaves your breasts, easily finding your clit.  Playing with it languidly, just enough that you're buzzing with anticipation but not enough to tip you over that edge quite yet. Your partner likes to think that he knows your body extremely well by now. And he thinks he enjoys finding out how you respond in this position, pressed against him in such an intimate way.

He loves eye contact, the expressions you make on your pretty face, the way you grip and mark up his back and biceps with your nails. But now, Seokmin can feel how you tremble in his arms, the tiny shift in movements when you unconsciously grind your ass across his abs every time you take his cock deep inside your perfect pussy. Fingers tugging on the tiny hairs on his neck, encouraging him to nibble on the top of your shoulder.

And when — oh, god — when you release the grip on his strands of hair and place your hand over his that's remained stationary the whole time on your hip bone, interlocking your digits together — he thinks he might cum on the spot.

Both his balls and heart are heavy and full of an incredible amount of love for you. He admits it repeatedly in your ear, thrusts turning more into a sloppy, erratic mess as he gives into chasing his high.

"Adore you so much, god, you're everything to me. You know that right?"

You grip the bedsheets with your other hand when you feel yourself start to jostle and slide upwards at his movement. "Love you too. So much, baby."

"Can you cum for me one more time, my pretty love? Soak my dick so I can fill you up nicely?"

"Yeah, I can. I can do it."

Your tongues tangle again, this time with a bit more aggression as you both help each other reach that peak. You reach your second climax first, not as intense as before but enough that you're clenching so tight around Seokmin and dripping down his aching cock as asked that he has no choice but to finally snap and let go.

The sounds he makes are pussy-fluttering, a breathy, drawn out moan directly in your ear followed by a low, satisfied grunt. His hips never falter until every drop is spilled inside, filling you up just as he promised. It's as warm and thick as the alcohol working itself out. You feel drowsy and sated in the best way possible.

Your dedicated, hard working lover must feel the same because he hasn't moved. Of course, he hasn't let go of your hand, body clinging to yours, softening cock still inside you as he sighs in content and nuzzles your neck.

"Do you feel better?"

"Yeah."

You try to wiggle out of his grasp but he doesn't let go. "Seok, we need to clean up."

"'m tired."

"Well, Mr. Sleepyhead, we can rest after."

"We already showered, though."

"A cold one will make you feel good." Despite the way Seokmin still feels extremely hot to the touch, little goosebumps prickle along his skin at the mention of a cold shower. You pat his forearm. "I'll help you wash up."

"Okay." 

It's a relief he acquiesces, knowing it would be difficult to escape his grip if he decided not to budge. His cheeks are still flushed cutely but you have to snort at the way his skin manages to glow so handsome and perfectly with that after sex, post-orgasmic effect.

"No shower sex," you threaten.

He pouts. "I dunno what you're talking about. 'm literally too tired to even move. Who knows, you might be the one to jump me."

"I would never! Besides you're the one who's always surprising me but either way you're going to have to get up." You roll over and stand, pulling at his arm when he refuses to release his grasp on your hand. "C'mon, babe."

"Alright, alright." He's about to make a comment of how energetic you are until he sees you wince and limp a bit toward the bathroom. You know he knows but choose to ignore his smirk. "Does sex help prevent hangovers?"

"I have no idea but I've heard it's supposed to help with headaches."

"Let me know if you have one tomorrow."

"Seokmin!"

"'m just saying."

"You're gonna fuck me either way. But we're sleeping in, it's already like five in the morning."

"You're right. On both accounts."

You hand him a glass of water with a scowl. "You can be so annoying."

"But you love me."

"Lucky that I honestly really do. Now come here so I can wash your hair."

"Yes, yes right away, love."

onlyseokmins: Novemeber 2022 ©

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Imagine # 937

Gif NOT mine.

If this gif is yours (or you know who's it is) please let me know, so I can give you/them credit.

Gif credit goes to - @sseht (Unless told otherwise.)

Year posted - 2022

Note(s) - READER IS A VAMPIRE FYI!!!!!!! (Probably should have clarified that in the caption but oh well.)

----

The fight had been exhausting for both (Y/n) and Cicero, as the elder dragon they battled was relentless. (Y/n) lay on the bank of the river, her chest heaving with every breath. "Is Listener alright?" Cicero asked as he fell beside her, his exhaustion evident in his voice. "I'm alright, just exhausted is all... Need to feed." (Y/n) mused before reaching for her discarded pack, hoping to drink her fill from a blood potion. "Are you okay Cicero?" She asked as she rummaged through her potion bottles. "Cicero is hungry, and tired." He sighed. "Damn it all." (Y/n) hissed suddenly, effectively catching Cicero's attention. "What is wrong Listener?" Cicero sat up as he peered over her shoulder. "I thought I had a spare blood potion in my pack, but I apparently didn't." She sighed before pulling something else out of the pack. "But I did grab some food for you." She chuckled as she passed Cicero the item wrapped in linen. Cicero perked up as he took the item from her, unwrapping it, pleased to find smoke cured horker meat, and a green apple. "Oh Listener is so kind to poor sweet Cicero." He cooed as he cuddled into her side, making her chuckle as he happily munched away. "Well at least I remembered to bring something for you, I don't know what I'd do without my poor sweet Cicero." (Y/n) teased playfully, making Cicero giggle softly. "But what about you Listener?" Cicero asked as he sat up properly, looking into her eyes with worry. "I'll just have to wait until we come across some bandits or something." (Y/n) shrugged her shoulders. "Oh no no no, that will not do! That could take hours or even days! The Listener mustn't wait that long, the Listener must feed!" Cicero exclaimed exasperatedly, before practically throwing himself into (Y/n)'s lap. "Listener will feed, even if she must feed on Cicero!" He exclaimed with wide eyes. "Oh Cicero you are so sweet, I don't want to hurt you." She mused as she tucked a strand of his fiery hair behind his ear. "Cicero insists that Listener feeds! Cicero can take it, loyal Cicero will not move a muscle!" He beamed up at her, pulling the neck of his shirt away to expose his pale shoulder to her. "Please Listener, feed." He spoke softer than (Y/n) had ever heard him speak, melting her heart at his devotion to her well-being. "Alright Cicero, but if it hurts to much, or you become dizzy let me know, and I will stop." (Y/n) insisted, smiling softly when Cicero nodded his head in agreement. "This will sting a little." She warned as she neared his shoulder, her hot breath fanning his neck and making Cicero shiver. A small whimper bubbled in Cicero's throat when her fangs sunk into his skin, but as he promised he remained completely still for her. And when (Y/n) moaned in delight at the taste of his blood coating her tongue, Cicero let out a shakey breath suddenly feeling very hot. This time however Cicero broke his word and moved, though he only moved his right arm. Taking a hold of (Y/n)'s shoulder he pulled her in even closer, feeling as if in this moment they were becoming closer than ever before, becoming one. Another moan escaped her as he gripped her shoulder tightly, finally pulling away when Cicero let out a choked gasp of breath. "Are you alright Cicero?" She asked before she licked her lips clean, holding his face in her left hand, while her right arm remained wrapped around his back, assisting him to sit up. "I-I'm okay my-y L-Listener." Cicero stammered, his face flush and a light shade of pink. "Good." (Y/n) pecked the spot on his shoulder where she fed from, licking the small mess of blood she had left. "You're such a good boy." She cooed before placing a kiss to his cheek, cradling him in her arms as he remained his strength. He shuttered at the praise, his heart hammering in his chest at how soft her touch felt. "Thank you my darling Cicero." (Y/n) hummed softly before removing his hat to play with his hair, massaging his scalp with a tinder touch, helping to lull Cicero to sleep. "Rest how my sweet." (Y/n) cooed when he tried resisting the sleep, as she knew he would need it.

[vroomvroomkachowboi]

Daydreaming

smut, fluff, angst: fluff and sort of smut-ish

pairing: fred weasley x reader(fem)

word count: 1.2k (1241)

summary: fred and y/n are friends, and but she’s got a crush on him, so she’s constantly daydreaming about him, and he's always curious as to what she's thinking about, and he's determined to find out 

warning: some smutty thoughts, and some curses I think, drinking 

a/n: ITALICS ARE THOUGHTS FYI!! I felt i should move onto smut and stuff, I'll just be slowly transitioning into it, so I get relearn how to do it . I feel so bad that I haven’t posted anything in months, I just have no motivated to do anything lately. I also had school and I got a job now so, sorry oops

The twins, Y/n and Lee Jordan have been friends since their first year a Hogwarts, but ever since then, Y/n has had the biggest crush on Fred Weasley.

As a child, Y/n had the most active imagination ever. And when she takes tests and pop quizzes, she’s always been given a glare from her teachers and a big, fat T on her paper. And it’s all because of her daydreaming. No matter where her teachers sit her, she’s constantly drifting off to her world of paradise.

On this particular day, she sat in one of her most boring classes, History of Magic, taught by her ghost teacher, Professor Binns. In his monotone voice, he dragged on about the giant wars and other thousand year old events.

Her chin rested on her palms, her notes were halfway done, but she completely forgot about them when she looked up at Fred Weasley, who sat in front of her. He spoke quietly with his twin brother. And slowly but surely, a daydreamed formed.

Fred sat on his bed, grasping Y/n by her bum as she sat on his lap, his large hands on both butt cheeks. Her arms around his neck. Their lips pressed together, their tongues at war with each other. An occasional moan and groan escaped from their mouths. Their grips on each other tighten, Fred smacks her butt then tightens his grip on it. Y/n’s breath hitches, a slight whimper escapes from her lips. “Get up, love,” Fred pants as they parted. “Get up, class as ended.”

Huh?

“Y/n, love. Get up. Class as ended.” She was brought back to class, Fred’s brown eyes looked into hers. She blushed, remembering her daydream, and quickly started to pack up her stuff. Fred, George, and Lee waited for her outside of class.

When she joined them, they began walking together. Lee was at the left end, George next to him on his right, Fred by his brother, and Y/n at the right end. George and Lee paid no attention to Fred and Y/n, as they talked about quidditch teams.

Fred spoke up, “You were pretty distracted back there, love.” Y/n nods at him, trying to avoid eye contact with him. “Yeah, I know. Binns is just really boring.” Fred was curious as to what she was thinking about but decided to drop it.

They walked to the Great Hall for lunch. The four sat across from each other, Lee and George, and Y/n and Fred.

“I know this is unlikely, but Fred, do you have the notes from last class? I wasn’t paying attention.” Y/n says as she quietly munches on her lunch. Fred smiles at her, “Believe it or not, I actually do because I don't spend all my class periods daydreaming about who knows what.” She blushes slightly, and gives him an embarrassed smile.

“Mind telling me what you daydream about, L/n?” Fred says. “Oh I mind, ‘Weasley’” She mildly mocks his tone. “Stay quiet all you want, I’ll get it out of you. You daydream more than the average witch or wizard.” Fred puts his hand on his chest, “I’m just worried for your health, is all.” He says sarcastically. Y/n ignores him, rolling her eyes.

The next few days pass, Y/n continued to daydream about Fred.

On a sunny, bright day at Hogwarts, everyone was enjoying the weather. People tossing a ball around, people chatting with their friends. Y/n and Fred were under a big tree, having a little picnic. Y/n would feed Fred little strawberries, and Fred would give her grapes like she was royalty. They giggled at their cheesiness. They lay facing each other, soaking up each other’s beauty in the sunlight. Y/n had his hand in hers, she felt his rough, long fingers intertwining with hers. With her thumb, she felt all the lines on his palm.

But she snapped out of her romantic daydream when all three boys showed up next to her. “See, I told you guys, she’s always daydreaming.” Fred exclaimed. She got up from her seat and walked out of class together. “What are you even thinking about?” George asks, but Lee answered before she could rebuke him. “Dunno, whatever girls think about.”

“Right, I totally forgot you have no experience with girls, Lee.” George joked. “Oi, I get girls. I have a bunch of them on their knees as soon as I walk in a room!” They all laugh except for Lee who has a smug grin on his face. “Please, Lee, you can’t even get Angelina to go on a date with you.” George and Fred chuckle at her response. They all spent the entire walk back to Gryffindor Tower listening to Lee telling all the girls he's been with. She felt thankful that Lee made everyone forget George’s question.

Y/n walked into the Gryffindor Common Room and saw Fred, George, Lee, and a few more people around with drinks in their hands. “Hey Y/n! Fancy a drink?” Lee says. “Sure. I just got back from the library to finish those notes I missed.” She plopped on the old sofa next to Fred.

As the night goes on, people grab more and more drinks, and more people show up. Y/n was having a light conversation with Fred. “Did you finish that? Let me get you some more.” Fred grabs the drink in her hand before she says anything, and goes to refill it.

She can imagine the loud groans and whimpers. Fred and her rolling around in the bed. Kisses and sucking in every inch of each other’s bodies. Both of them sweating and tired, but can’t get enough of each other. Fred going in and out of her, as she can feel him hitting all the right places. He whispers his dirty thoughts in her ear, as her eyes roll back.

She immediately snapped out of it. And soon Fred showed up with her drink. Maybe the alcohol got to her head already. She smiled at him as he got closer. “Thanks.” She mumbles as she takes a sip. She can taste the alcohol but it was slightly different this time. “Yeah, no problem.” As he takes a sip from his drink.

“So you seemed pretty distracted there. What were you thinking about?” He asks, and a smirk forms on his face but he hides it with another sip. “I was daydreaming about you.” She says. Y/n quickly realizes what she said, and covered her mouth in a very cartoonish way. “Ah ha! I knew you were daydreaming about me.” Fred exclaims, as he inches closer to her. Her cheeks go red. “So, you like me, don't you?” He says. “Yes, of course.” She blurts out.

“Fred, did you do something to this drink?!” She questions. “Truth Serum comes in handy, doesn’t it?” He smiles cheekily at her. “At least I know you like me back.”

Her eyes widen. “You what?!” Fred chuckles lightly. “Of course I do, love.” They smiled at each other in a admiringly way. “Can I?” Fred says hesitantly. She nods excitedly. He puts his hand on her cheek and connects their lips.

It was way better than what Y/n daydreamed about. His lips were warm and fit perfectly with hers. She put her hands on his shoulders as his remained on her cheeks.

They separated, Fred’s smirk returned to his face as he popped the question. “So what kind of daydreams are you having?”

[wint3r-h3art]

Okay, so we are in a very angsty mood today.

Let's go.

Shang-Chi x Reader

“Don’t look at me like that.” “Like what?” “Like you still love me.”

Oh man, the way I'll end up bawling by the end of it💀���� I just KNOW I will💀💀

Warning: Full angst. Just pain and unresolved pain.

Word counts : 1.4k

Summary: You were in love with him, but he never acknowledging it. now that you're happily married, a confession from your best friend leads to heartbreaking decision.

A/N: FYI this really hurts me. This is part 2 of this prompt . Your comments and reblog is greatly, greatly appreciated if you enjoy this story. 💛

✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮

It feels like never-ending suffering.

Sitting here, seeing you all glow up from your post-honeymoon trip seems to be the nail to the coffin. Katy insisted that he should at least call you up to talk. At least for closure.

“I know this whole week had been hell for you, but going back home and avoiding her won’t do you any good,” she said on the plane ride back to San Fransico.

“Don’t you think it’s like three weeks too late, now? Plus what is talking to her is going to do? She’s happily married to the guy, and you want me to just say ‘hey, I’ve been in love with you this whole time. Please take me instead’. C���mon, Katy. You can’t be serious.”

“Ok, listen, you noob. If still holding on to that thing you’re feeling, it ain’t gonna go away ok? Compartmentalize all of that feeling is not gonna work.”

“I hate when you throw in your big word,” he mumbles.

Katy just scoffs. “Think it over, Shaun. It’s for the best of you.”

And that was what 48 hours ago. Shangqi isn’t quite as confident now as he watched you stroll in here looking like a goddess.

“Hey Shau--Sorry, Shangqi. I keep forgetting. Sorry. How you’ve been?”

“Good. Just got back from visiting my family like two days ago,” he says with a small smile on his face. He seems to can’t meet your eyes as you sit there directly in front of him. His eyes occasionally shift to the shiny rings on your left finger.

“How’s your honeymoon?” he asks before drinking the water in front of him. His hand trembles slightly as he can feel anxiety edging on.

“It was great,” you beam enthusiastically, unaware of the effect you have on him.

“Where did you and your husband go again?” The word husband feels still on his tongue. He feels disgusted to even uttering it out loud.

“Um, Hawaii,” you smile fondly at the memory. “We did a lot of relaxing on the beach and touristy stuff, and oh my God the food was so amazing! I think I gain like 10 pounds from eating so much. It was worth it, though,” you giggle at the thought.

“That’s very nice,” he nods again before drinking yet another glass of water that the server just filled up for him. “If it makes you feel any better, you don’t look like you gain anything at all. You look good.” Really, really good.

You can feel your cheeks warm up from the comment. Since when did he became so smooth, you wonder.

You look at him fondly, a small part of you still hold on to that feeling you had for him. It’s hard to ignore of course, and the guilt just feels like it’s never-ending. Is it even normal to lay with someone you’re married to yet still think of another man? Some night is even harder than the other when all you can picture him with you. God, you feel like an awful wife to your new husband. You barely married for less than a month and one look from this man sends you back to square one.

You can only smile as you can feel the heat reaches your ears, your eyes quickly averted down to your hands. It’s hard to look into those liquid ambers without feeling some type of way.

“Thanks, Shangqi,” you say as you fiddle with your fingers, feeling a bit flustered now. You would have thought by now that you’ll be over him, but clearly, you’re not.

You both talk further over the casual dinner of course. Nothing fancy, nothing romantic. Just dinner with a friend, catching up thing.

He offers to walk you back to the garage, of course, knowing how Shangqi has always been sweet and protective of you.

“It’s good to finally catch up with you, Shangqi,” you say offer him a hug.

It lasts much longer than you realize though.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” you ask as you pull away from him. There’s a visible sadness lingers in those eyes. The air of melancholy hangs thick around him as if there’s something bothering him.

“Nothing,” he mumbles, trying to offer you a smile, but it feels forced and fake.

“I know when you’re lying to me, Shangqi.” The words come out softer than you realized. A small part of you suspects it by the way those brown sapphire eyes linger longer on your face, then they drift down to your lips. It’s an expression of longing, waiting, anticipating for the next touch. The feeling of wanting something that is out of reach.

You don’t want to think of it like that because in the depth of your fucked up heart, you really don’t want to think that it is it. But God, you hate it so much right now because you know that look so well. The same fucking look you gave him when you realized how much you were in love with him.

How much you still in love with him.

“Please don’t look at me like that.” The words come out like a breath.

He’s so close now that you can still smell his cologne. It’s inviting and warm, just like him.

“Like what?”

“Like you love me or something,” you pretend to chuckle as you push him away, but Shangqi holds you firmly in his arm, and you can feel your breath hitches in your throat. You can feel your heart tremble sightly, almost deafening in your ears as scorching heat seems to envelop your whole body.

“What if I do?”

“What?” Your brows furrow. The air in your lungs feels like it’s being sucked out.

“What if I do love you?”

You stare at him speechless for a long moment, allowing his words to sink in. Love? In love with you?

“Stop joking around with me, Shangqi,” you say as you try to pull away, half laughing half uncomfortable. You hate how much this moment feels like a Goddamn dream to you because what if it is? What if you suddenly wake up and it’s just another trick your fucked up brain does to you?

The more you try to push him, the more he pulls, holding to whatever his hands can grasps, even just your fingers. “Hey, listen. I’m not joking. I really mean it. I-I really messed up and I just thought that if I let you know, you--”

“I what?” you pulling away harder now, and he finally letting you go. “That I would leave my husband for you?!”

He sighs. His hand rubs the back of his neck impatiently as he watches your expression change. He can clearly see tears brim at the corner of your eyes.

“I told you that I love you, what like three years ago?! And now that I’m finally happy enough with myself and find someone that wants me, suddenly you want me back?! What the fuck do you think this going to go?!”

“Y/N” he starts, but you quickly cut him off. A floodgate of emotions seems to pour right out of you at the moment.

“I spent all these years hoping that you would say something back, hell, I really wanted you to fucking acknowledging it, but you never once did. And now you have the audacity to say you love me? You can’t do that to me, Shaun.”

He watches you openly sob in front of him, and it would be a lie to say that his heart isn’t broken then. Every inch of him is hurting just seeing how much pain he has caused you.

“I messed up, ok. I-I just want to let you know. I don’t expect anything from it.”

“And you won’t,” you sniffle as you wipe your face with the back of your hand. “I’m done with this bullshit, Shaun. I’m done. I’m out. I can’t do this anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“Please, just for me. Don’t call me or text me anymore. You’ve done enough already. Just let me be happy with my husband.”

“Y/N, are you…”

“We shouldn’t be friends anymore,” you say firmly, biting back the tears that threaten to roll down your face. “Just please, let this be it. I can’t do this. I just can’t.”

Especially knowing how much I still love you.

With the last word, you turn and walk away. The sound of your heels clicking on the concrete floor echoes inside the garage.

Shangqi can only watch you before you drift away from his sight.

He's fucked up. He's really fucked up.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

The Dream - Chapter Twenty Five.

Double update time today, besties! I kind of want to get the posting of this done with so I can have a break, also from noticing interest beginning to wane slightly. I totally get it, people are busy (I bloody know I am right now!) and we all have lives to lead outside of the fandom. But yeah, I guess that’s my fault in that it makes my insecurity rear its ugly head, making me question myself when I notice people quietening. I’m not seeking any empathy or anything like that, I’m just speaking from a place of honesty.

I know I need to improve, and I will. I’ll be taking a break from longer stories after this one to go away and do just that. @withmyteeth​ gave me some truly superb advice on where I needed to improve, so I’ve been taking that on board with writing. I’m feeling positive I’ll be able to come back better. 

Thanks to those of you who continue to engage, though. You’re very sweet and I appreciate you. You’re the ones I want to do better for, not just for myself! 

Previous chapters - Prologue  One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten  Eleven  Twelve  Thirteen  Fourteen  Fifteen  Sixteen  Seventeen  Eighteen  Nineteen  Twenty Twenty One  Twenty Two  Twenty Three  Twenty Four

Tag list - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed (note: those not engaging will be automatically removed from the tag list, FYI)

Words - 2,380

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

“What?”  

She truly hadn’t expected the decibels of his reply, especially not since he’d done so well in her being away for three months, but Keri’s revelation that she would only be home for eleven days before jetting off to Ireland for Luke’s sister’s wedding, well, it didn’t go down well with Angel. “You’ve only just got home!”

“Baby, I know, but it won’t be for long. Five days includes travel time,” she began, leaning back against the units in the kitchen. “I leave on Wednesday, Saoirse's wedding is on the Saturday, and I’ll be home the following Monday. It really isn’t a big thing.”

“But you only just arrived back, and now you want to go away again?”  

Oh, god. “I thought we’d dealt with this, Angel.” Her attempt to placate him was met with hostility, Angel throwing himself out of the chair at the kitchen table, stomping towards the door. “Come on, you’re being silly now. You always knew I’d travel with my work.”

“You’ll be with him again.”

Her brows furrowed. “Him?”  

“Yeah!” he yelled, pulling his phone out as he stuffed his feet into his boots. “This asshole!” Turning the screen of his phone, he showed her a picture she’d uploaded to her Instagram, a selfie she’d taken with Dolores, Roisin and Luke, three members of the band, Roisin and Luke kissing a cheek each, Dolores crouched beneath her chin, winking while bobbing her tongue out at the camera.

Keri couldn’t believe her ears. “You seriously have an issue with Luke? Roisin is kissing me, too, but you’re strangely quiet about her being an asshole! Then again, she doesn’t have a dick, does she?”

He was quiet then, reloading his retort, but Keri gave him no chance. His girlfriend was a mild-mannered sweetheart, but boy, if somebody put a match near her gas tank... Boom. Especially if they were casting aspersions. “Do you really think you have anything to worry about? Angel, we’re been together for eight months now, you know who I am. Do you really have me pegged as a cheater, or are you looking for an excuse to blow up just because you don’t want me going away again so soon?”

“I trust you, not him.”  

This wasn’t anything to do with Luke, and she knew it. This was his abandonment issue, rearing its ugly head, Keri realised, reaching for him. He pulled from her, though. “I gotta get to the yard.”

She shook her head in confusion. “You told me you had the day off?”

“Yeah? And you told me I mattered. Not enough for you to stick around long.” The slam of the door behind him vibrated the frame, Keri sighing, considering going after him. He likely needed to cool off, so she left it. In leaving it, though, she felt the agitation pouring through her veins, deciding to do something about it. Angel wasn’t a messy guy, but still, his house got the once over, everywhere smelling of polish, cleaning spray and fabric freshener once she was done, looking over at her suitcase.  

Clean clothes were a must.  

The laundromat was two blocks away from the weed shop, so with all of her dirty clothing items set on a hot wash, Keri trudged down in search of a friendly face, taking coffee and some doughnuts with her, too. She was greeted by all the warmth she needed, Sharise shrieking in surprise, rushing out behind the counter. She only just about had chance to place the items she carried down before receiving her beautiful friend in her arms, the girls embracing tightly.  

“I missed you so much!” she cried, holding Keri’s face in her hands, kissing her cheek.  

“I missed you too, lady,” she replied with warmth, rocking her in her arms, kissing her head as she pointed to the coffee and doughnuts. “Break time?”

“Let me just get these guys sorted and I’ll be right with you.” A half ounce of blueberry kush and an eighth of AK-47 later, and Sharise was free to join Keri in the back room, seating themselves in the former’s small office.  

“So, how is it being back?”  

Keri finished her mouthful of doughnut before replying. “I’m currently fighting the jetlag, still being on Australian time means my body thinks it should be asleep right now, but I’m doing what everyone says is best and just trying to keep busy, power through it. And it was going really well, until this morning when I revealed to Angel that I’m going over to Ireland again in eleven days' time to photograph a wedding. He blew up at me massively. I thought we’d gotten past that, with how well he’d handled it while I was away in Australia.”

She went on to detail the ins and outs of their argument, Sharise listening intently before weighing in. She knew she had to walk a fine line, what with Angel being her family but Keri also becoming a close friend. A little confliction rooted within her, but sipping her coffee, she chose honesty in the end. “Listen, he did handle it well, I was proud of him, but his sheen wasn’t quite as bright without you here. He missed you, he’s so in love with you and all he could do was count down the days until you came back to him.  

“However, that doesn’t mean he was right to explode at you, or accuse that Luke guy of anything nefarious, but like you say, he only likely did it to try and legitimise his abandonment issues, and not want to bring it back to those again. I think you did the right thing in letting him go cool off, because he’ll know he’s been an ass, but he won’t want to immediately admit to that. You’re right, too. You can’t put your life on hold for his comfort levels, so he’s gotta deal with it.”

Keri nodded, slumping in her seat a little. “I thought he already had, and that’s what kicks me in the guts most about it. He doesn’t need to feel so threatened by me not being around. I wish he’d settle and realise that just because there’ll be times when I’m physically far, my heart is always with him.”

“See, that’s the thing with Angel. He isn’t used to having a girlfriend with that kind of lifestyle. I mean, if he and Lucy had gone the distance, it would have been the same. She’ll likely have to do book tours once her cookbook comes out, she’s very ambitious just like you are, but for Angel, he almost can’t separate that. I think it’s because his own life has been so firmly rooted in Santo Padre. He likes the idea of having someone who’s always there for him, and the idea of them not being so frightens him, brings up everything about his mom’s death,” she explained, Keri nodding deeply.

“I know, and I do feel bad now for yelling at him. Underneath the veneer of big, bad outlaw wolf, he’s a little wounded cub, and I want to make that better for him, but he has to help himself, too. He can’t just explode and think I’ll change my mind because he’s being difficult. I won’t. I love him, he’s the absolute love of my life, but I won’t put that life on hold just to make him feel more secure.”  

It was a tough situation to be in and Sharise sympathised, advising that she should at least try and talk to him again once he returned home later, but that ultimately, she was right. It was Angel’s issue to deal with, not hers. After Keri left to go and pile her laundry into the dryer, Sharise quietly thought to herself that her brother-in-law truly did need to sort out his mess there, because Keri wasn’t the kind of girl who would placate him forever if he continually threw distrust at her, no matter how much she loved him.  

While Keri was sitting at the laundromat awaiting her clothes to dry, she sat and contemplated much the same, a realisation hitting her. This truly was the obelisk, but god, how she hoped it wouldn’t be a fatal disagreement. The saddest part was, though, that she realised only too clearly if Angel couldn’t get his head straight with the idea of her being away from him, it likely would be. She couldn’t handle it, him berating her because of his own insecurity, especially if he was only prepared to overcome it for short periods, before reverting once more to entertaining what her being away stirred within him.

It filled her with nothing but dread, knowing that if this continued, she would have no choice but to walk away from him. It was a bitter pill to swallow, for she loved him with her entire heart, but she saw no choice if he didn’t want to get better, or let in room for healthy growth where his insecurities were concerned.  

Tears prickled her eyes, Keri wiping them quickly, not wanting to draw attention to herself at the instant heartbreak that trying to imagine a life without Angel in it had stirred, reaching for her phone, seriously contemplating for a few moments whether she should contact Luke and tell him she couldn’t make it. She stopped, though, realising that if she did, Angel would know that an outburst would be all it took in the future in order for her to toe the line for the sake of his comfort.  

No matter how much she loved him and wanted to ease his insecurity, she couldn’t do that.  

She wouldn’t do that.  

He was a grown man of thirty-six, her a young woman of twenty-three. He needed to be the one who did better, without her placating him. After her clothes were dry, she loaded up the huge IKEA bag she’d bundled them into, heading home and ironing everything, placing them away in the wardrobe and drawers before fixing herself a late lunch. As much as she tried to stay awake, putting on a Netflix documentary she’d been waiting to have the time to sit down and enjoy in full, she ended up asleep on the sofa, not waking until 9pm.  

Angel still wasn’t home.  

Calling him, the phone rang out, so she sent him a message, asking when he’d be home. By eleven thirty, she could see he’d read it, but hadn’t replied. She tried calling again, the call being cut dead this time after three rings. So, he knew very well she wanted to talk to him, but this was how he was going to deal with it.  

‘Angel, please come home, or call me. We need to talk about this. Love you xx’ The message was read within minutes, but by 1am, he still had neither returned to her or replied.

“Well, this is on you if you’re choosing to behave this way.” The next thing she did was to call up her browser and book a ticket to Utah for the following day. If he wasn’t going to even try with her, then she’d just leave him to it for a while, go and spend some time with the people who she’d missed just as much as she had him, give him time to figure it all out. She didn’t want to spend any further time away, but the fact that she lay alone in bed all night without him returning didn’t give her a lot of options.  

It was 6am when he finally returned, looking worse for wear, his eyes violet with tiredness, his face sour. Especially when he saw her suitcase packed again by the front door. Hurt flashed his eyes as he turned to view her sitting on the couch while he pointed at the luggage. “Where you going?”

“Home,” she replied simply. “If your idea of us fixing this issue is to ignore me and stay out all night, then I’m not gonna stick around to be treated like that. You obviously want some time away from me, Angel, so I’m going to give you that. I don’t want to, I’ve missed you so much and all I want is for us to talk about this, but I think you’ve made your feelings clear there.”

His face darkened, sliding his kutte off and hanging it up, shrugging. “Fine.” The word slipped from his mouth like a biting frost, glaring at her before he walked to the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. She could have cried, but she didn’t, following him into the bedroom to retrieve her bag and cell. “Keri just fucking leave me alone.”

“So that’s it, huh? From your perspective, this is how you want to leave things between us?”

He turned to her, his glare fixed in place. “You’re the one doing the leaving.”  

She was staunch in her reply, sighing, closing her eyes tightly for a moment in an attempt to gather herself. “And you’re the one giving me no choice by refusing to talk about it. Angel, I love you so much, but I’m not going to put my life on hold just to make you feel comfortable. You’re a grown man. You really, really need to resolve this within yourself. Me leaving you isn’t me abandoning you. I’m always coming back, because you’re worth coming back to. Because I want to come back to you. If you can’t figure that out or accept it, then I don’t know where we go from here.”

“Apparently you go home.”

“Yeah,” she scoffed bitterly. “Apparently I do.”  

Picking up her bag and cell, she left, her flight not due to depart for three hours, feeling like she had no choice but to leave early. She didn’t want to, every fibre and bone of her being wanted to go and cuddle up to him for an hour before she had to leave, but she couldn’t. He didn’t want her to, much preferring to stew in his own ridiculous handling of the situation.  

The tears she’d successfully managed to hold onto in the house came as soon as she pulled off and drove down the street, wondering truly if that was it for them.  

She hoped to god that it wasn’t.

[hoe-doroki]

Siberia

minors do not interact

warnings: 18+, drunk sex, marking, biting, love scratches, sloooow burn

pairing: Shouto x fem!reader

genre: pining/angst, smut, fluff

wc: 13.8k

summary: On the field, you and Todoroki are rising stars amongst hero pairings. Off the field…you’re kind of in love with him. After a successful capture, you’re boss brings you in to let you know you’re being sent on assignment in foreign country…alone. Before you leave, you have to act. You’re not partners anymore, after all. And with a little liquid courage you do. Then, the next morning, you still have to leave.

a/n: Thanks so much to @some-kindofgnome​, @mindninjax​, and @linestrider​ for helping me out with this beast! Ya’ll are such dears, hyping me up when I was feeling really uncertain about this story. FYI, this story is kind of the prequel to a short fluff fic that will be posted (for bnhabookclub’s secret santa) on Christmas, so stay tuned for that!

edit: I no longer write x reader but here’s my old masterlist - mobile | desktop

September

Shards of ice and concrete flew. Ears ringing, you faced away, keeping your uncovered cheeks and hands from the debris. You’d have to turn back into it soon to keep an eye on the villain soon, though. He wasn’t exactly subtle, firing off explosions every few minutes, but he did have plumes of smoke and heaps of destruction on the city street to hide behind. Todoroki had been shooting walls of ice up to protect the buildings, but the road was shredded.

“You okay?” Todoroki shouted, also facing away from the blast.

“Yeah, you?”

“Yeah.”

You turned back with a dry, scratched hand in front of your eyes as you squinted into the wind, streaks of both freezing and hot air blowing past you. You had to consciously keep from grinding your teeth in frustration as the villain cackled at you.

Todoroki and you had a near-perfect capture rate. Usually, the two of you could manipulate his ice to capture any villain, but ice didn’t work so well against a villain with exploding spines on his back. Each attempt to restrain him ended with ice shattering, blown away from the villain’s body in one go. There wasn’t much that Todoroki’s fire could do against a guy like that either.

“Shouto,” you shouted, making your way closer to him. “Make me a big block of ice and then distract him. Be ready to run back and use your fire.”

You saw the question in his eyes for a split second, but he’d stopped asking questions of you early on in your three-year partnership. Questions and explanation took time that couldn’t be spared in battles against villains, so you just had to trust each other.

You hadn’t failed yet.

With a sweep of his arm, you had an iceberg the size of a school bus at your disposal. Todoroki ran at the guy, fire in his hand in order to distract with some close combat—neither of your specialty.

You worked quickly to manipulate the ice into four walls. They didn’t have to be straight or pretty, just sound and close enough in size to line up. Luckily, Todoroki’s ice was the easiest thing you’d ever worked with; it was free of impurities and even in temperature. From there, you could mold it however you wanted.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw another one of the spikes on the man’s back explode. Todoroki was able to counter the blast with a wash of fire, but it still knocked him back and set your heart pounding. You needed to end this before either of you ended up hurt with more than the light burns and scrapes you were sporting now.

You took the last bit of ice and lifted it overhead, letting it expand into something soft and irregular—nothing more than densely packed snow. Then, another shout of Todoroki’s hero name had him running back, and you used all your focus to shove the four ice blocks around the villain and fuse them at the corners, sealing them to the irregular ruble on the street.

“Haven’t you learned that ice can’t keep me down?” the villain shouted over your frozen terrarium.

You had learned that, but you’d also learned that he was slowing. He only had a few spires on his back—less than ten—and each one he used had to be regrown. He was regenerating them much quicker than you might have hoped, but it wasn’t as fast as at the beginning of the battle. However the explosions worked, whatever they did to his body, they must have been taking a toll. That gave you a window. A small one, but hopefully enough.

“Fire!” you shouted at Todoroki, pointing to the tall pile of snow you were controlling, moving to just above the ice box.

Todoroki loosed a thin tongue of fire, letting it hit the snow but dissipate before it turned the solid straight to a gas. He knew that what you needed now. The only thing that would bring you both victory, was liquid.

A shelf of water dumped into the room of ice you’d contained the villain in and you returned your focus back to its makeup. You held the ice strong, not letting the new water—warm in places, still nearly frozen in others—melt the walls. Then you shifted some of it to create a roof, leaving only enough room for the man to be able to poke his head out, and some air holes to allow in oxygen. You didn’t need him poking his back out of the water and creating another explosion.

You used your finest degree of control, your tightest concentration to clarify some of the ice, providing a window into your new aquarium. The villain was holding his arms, obviously cold, but he wasn’t using his quirk. Seemed that his explosions didn’t work underwater.

“God,” you said, letting out a relieved sigh as your shoulders slumped, though you didn’t relax your hold on the walls. They wanted to melt against the heated concrete, but you didn’t let them.

Todoroki came over to you, breathing heavily himself. “He won’t be able to stay in there long.”

“I know,” you said, watching the man’s movements closely for signs of hypothermia. You weren’t too worried, since Todoroki could create heat at a moment’s notice, but you still didn’t like this method. It was the best you’d been able to come up with, though.

“Great work, Snow,” he said, a thin smile curving on his lips.

The thing about Todoroki’s smiles, rare though they were, was that they were contagious. They were always earned, always a surprise, and you couldn’t ever help but return one when it was given to you. So, you smiled back, heat blossoming in your chest as your gazes lingered, panting in matching breaths.

It was easy to restrain yourself during battle. In combat, you and Todoroki were partners whose quirks worked well together, whose minds and styles had grown to be one with each other. But as soon as the battle was over and your breath was allowed to slow, the adrenaline able to recede, things felt different. You wanted to take his cheek in your hand and wipe the ash off his face. You wanted to take a washcloth and clean the blood away. You wanted to hold him in your arms and whisper that he was whole and okay and you’d both done your job well.

But all that you could offer was a hand raised in partnership. He took it and you touched from fingertip to elbow. Your tight grip on his equally cold hand held for just a moment, just one squeeze. And then you parted.

“Excellent work today, Snow.”

You were standing in front of your boss, freshly showered and out of your thermal costume, back in clothing that was a little more appropriate for a temperate fall in Japan. Nevertheless, the office felt warm, kept that way to make your manager’s day of sitting in pencil skirts at her oak desk comfortable.

“Thank you, ma’am,” you said, bowing and doing your best to read her face. “It was a team effort.”

It was unusual that someone was called to the boss’ office for good news, but, at the same time, you couldn’t read any dissatisfaction on your boss’ face. Your capture today had gone well. Yeah, there had been damage to the street, but very little to the buildings—save for the guy’s hideout, which had been ruined—and the police apprehended the man before he’d gotten frostbite. All in all, a neat wrap-up to a villain you and Todoroki had been chasing for weeks.

“Yes, it was. You and Todoroki are one of the star partnerships on the field nowadays,” she said, her gaze breaking down to some paperwork on the table.

You narrowed your eyes, able to hear the but that was coming.

“We’ve seen a lot of growth in your quirk. You used it really fantastically today when you were in a tight spot, and we’d like to send you on a covert operation.”

You cocked your head, feeling a disconnect between the different statements she was making. “…With Todoroki?”

She shook her head, looking grim. “Only one was requested for this mission, and you’re the one best suited to the job. Your ability to freeze and manipulate ice at will is really unique. If all goes well, it won’t be for long.”

“How long?”

She shrugged and your heart dropped. “Maybe a few weeks? It depends on how it goes. I’m emailing you the briefing now.”

A shrug and a maybe. She obviously had no idea.

“Okay, well, where is it?”

She looked up at you, a slight cringe wrinkling her brow and the bridge of her nose. This, she did have the answer to.

And she knew you wouldn’t want to hear it.

You’d somehow managed to drag Todoroki to a bar, you hadn’t been choosy about which. The light was dim, the décor mostly dark wood with black accents, and the atmosphere nearly morose with the lack of patrons. It matched your mood. He was nursing a gin martini and you a vodka to give yourself an ironic little laugh. Or maybe it was preparation. Either way, it was helping to steel your nerves.

“You seem upset,” Todoroki said before you were halfway through the drink. You’d been through congratulations on the day’s capture, but it had been hard to keep up the merriment. You weren’t entirely shocked that he’d picked up on it so quickly, though. The two of you were only kept alive by how attuned you were to each other, after all.

“It’s annoying that your job is being perceptive,” you said, knocking back a bit more of the drink.

“It’s yours too,” he said plainly. “What’s on your mind?”

You sighed, plucking the olive out of your drink to chew on it. Your mouth filled with brine, each taste bud standing on end at the sharp taste of pure salt. You had to take another sip to wash it down. “Boss lady didn’t tell you I’m going on assignment?”

You knew she hadn’t otherwise he would have asked you immediately. Todoroki wasn’t the kind to beat around the bush.

“Oh?” Todoroki asked, sipping more of his own drink. “By yourself? For how long?”

You ran your finger over the condensation on your glass. It was cold, though not as cold as you were used to. You liked your drinks frosty so you froze the condensation and gave the glass a swirl. “I don’t know. A month?”

You’d saddled Todoroki with the day’s villain paperwork while you’d read over the mission’s briefing. It had been short, which was your first hint that the team didn’t have as much information as they needed. They were pulling from an outside agency, after all, which always smelled of desperation to you.

“Where are you going?”

You looked down at your vermouth-mixed vodka and said, “Siberia.”

A rare bald reaction showed on Todoroki’s face. His eyes went wide and his chin jutted toward you. “Siberia?”

You held your hand out and pulled at the particles of water in the air, freezing just enough to make a few snowflakes to dance above your hand, drawing Todoroki’s gaze. “Siberia.”

It was your quirk that matched you to this assignment. You would thrive in an environment surrounded by snow. You’d be able to manipulate the whole terrain and freezing would be easy. You’d be at full power.

Todoroki took your ice-filled hand in his warm one and you felt heat flow rapidly into you as he melted the snow to water and then back into vapors barely catching the bar’s yellow light before slipping in and amongst the smell of liquor and hops.

“Wow,” Todoroki said, a word that always sounded stunted through his dull monotone, almost oxymoronic. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” you said, though receiving the compliment felt disingenuous. Being chosen for this was a testament to your strength, but it didn’t feel like an achievement—it felt like a disruption. Months away from the job that you loved and the partner you…

You swigged the rest of the martini and ordered another one. If you were going to have to go to Russia tomorrow, you’d do well to invite a piece of it to you tonight. Microdosing or something.

Todoroki ordered a second, too, as he was nearly to the bottom of his own drink. He stirred the last dribbles of it and said, “Siberia isn’t that far from Japan.”

“Just one time zone behind,” you said. You’d done some googling after memorizing your notes. You weren’t sure how much you’d be moving about the region, but the location you were being sent to tomorrow was set.

The energy between you was stiff. Battling together today had been so easy, the two of you essentially extensions of one another. Todoroki created ice that you could manipulate as though it had come from your own body. Sure, you could create ice out of the water that was around, but Todoroki could so easily give you exactly what you needed. And then his fire could clean it all away. It was a perfect pairing.

Usually that chemistry followed you off the battlefield, but now you were trapped in small talk. Stuck with you apparently one foot out the door, unable to face him fully. Your elbows fell to the black marble bar, hands pushed into the roots of your hair. “God, this sucks!”

“They can’t force you to go if you don’t want to.”

He was right, but how would that look? Heroes didn’t turn down cases without good reason; that wasn’t how the job worked. You were expected to take jobs that were difficult, dangerous, and unpleasant—that was simply the field. The only reasons to turn one down were if you felt you couldn’t fulfill it.

“I can’t exactly tell them that I’ll miss my partner too much to go,” you said, eyes flickering towards his for a moment before starting on your second drink. “Then they’ll just think I’m too stupid and they’ll fire me.”

“I’ll miss being your partner too,” Todoroki said.

Your stomach squeezed. This. This was what made it impossible to spend time around Todoroki without getting the wrong idea. He just said things, so simply and genuinely that your mind would always jump to the next thing, when really, he just said what he meant and nothing more. There was no subtext, no matter how you tried to find it. And the search made your heart ache.

“So this isn’t a celebration so much as a farewell,” Todoroki mused, finishing his first drink and joining you on the second.

You were beginning to feel a bit of a buzz. Your emotions were a bit more liquid, sloshing from one state to another with more ease than usual. The sadness was transmuting into longing. The longing transmuting to desire.

“I wish I had known,” Todoroki continued, your eyes slipping back over to him. “I might have ordered something stronger.”

“Hah,” you said, the huff coming out humorless. You might have also, if you didn’t want to avoid being hungover on the plane. “Wanna drown my memory, Todoroki?”

“No.”

He didn’t look like he had more to say. Damn, sometimes you needed just a little more—subtext or actual text—out of him.

But he didn’t give it to you, so you just looked at him. His bangs were covering his eyes from you as he looked down into his drink, but you thought you could see the sadness. His shoulders were hunched, head hanging heavy off his neck. He would miss you. Maybe not as much as you would miss him, and maybe not in the same way, but you knew he valued your partnership. Your friendship. That, at the very least, meant something to him.

Tonight, however, you weren’t thinking about the very least. You didn’t want the lowest common denominator between you—your professional partnership—to be the last image you held of your relationship before heading to one of the most desolate places on Earth.

Besides, as of this afternoon he wasn’t your partner anymore. Not for the moment, at least.

“Shouto?”

Your voice was timid, unfamiliar with using his name in this setting. It was his hero name, but that wasn’t what you were saying here, and you knew it. He knew it too, by the way his eyes jerked up to yours, a question creasing between his eyebrows.

You didn’t answer, though. Maybe he had the right idea, leaving things unsaid.

You put two fingers to his jawline, drawing his face up, lifting his whole posture off the bar with nothing but a gentle touch. His brows furrowed deeper and then they relaxed, his eyes open and at ease.

For a moment, you did nothing more than breathe each other’s air. A moment of hesitation or of resolve, you didn’t know—it didn’t last long enough to figure it out. Then your mouth brushed against his, the bitter taste of alcohol on both your lips.

It wasn’t a good idea. But you’d regret it too much if you didn’t, and you had just enough courage to make it happen. As you twisted more to the side, slanting so you could feel the smoothness of his shaved cheek, you soared. Maybe he’d wanted this too. Maybe even as long as you had, though you’d lost track of exactly what that was.

Then he pulled away. Not for breath, but for distance.

“We can’t,” he said, feeling for his wallet and pulling it out. He placed a few bills on the bar, paying for both your drinks and his. Your heart hadn’t even finished breaking by the time he was taking your hand and dragging you out of there.

He hailed a cab in record time, everything moving just a bit too fast for you to keep up with. He was ushering you into the cab without a word and then you were seated side by side, hands still clasped tight.

“Todoroki, I—”

Todoroki caught your eye and shook his head, and you stopped immediately. Just like in combat, you didn’t ask questions. You did as he said, quiet for the whole car ride to his apartment.

Luckily, it wasn’t far. Half the reason you’d been able to drag him to the bar was its proximity to his apartment. It was fully within walking distance. But it seemed he’d decided he was in a hurry.

Your hands finally split from one another as you exited the cab and you followed him through his building, still quiet. You’d been there before, visited him when he’d been sick or injured, or occasionally to talk shop—though usually that easily dissolved into something more casual with food being ordered, knees touching as you sat crisscrossed around a low table.

The moment you made it through his front door, you automatically toed off your shoes on the tatami mats. Then the light were flicked on and his lips were back on yours, catching you off guard. Hadn’t he just rejected you? Hadn’t he pulled away from you and spoken his dissent?

You fell into the push and pull of his lips against yours, both a little too dry from the constant cold and heat you put them through, but that didn’t matter. You’d dreamt of kissing this man for so long, and here he was. You allowed yourself to revel in it for just a moment more before pulling back, just as he’d done earlier.

“What’s happening?” you asked. “I thought—”

“Not in public,” he said, “That’s not how I want to do this.”

“Oh,” you said, unable to believe you’d disregarded that. Even if the bar you’d been in hadn’t been that populated, that didn’t mean that you were invisible. And, like it or not, you and Todoroki were both public figures, well known for your partnership. The two of you kissing, no matter how innocent, would be news if it went public. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Todoroki said immediately, taking your hand in his warm one. “Don’t be.”

And then he was kissing you again, this one more passionate than either of the last two. The first had been hesitant, feeling each other out, the second quick and needy. This one was full, in no rush while making sweet use of the time you did have. His other hand came up to grip your waist and you moved to grip his shoulder, feeling the swollen muscle beneath his shirt.

You were drawn to his warmth, as you always were, and your body couldn’t help but press against his, thigh to thigh, chest to chest. You’d always tried so hard to keep a professional distance that as soon as the boundary was taken away, you couldn’t seem to get close enough. Making up for lost time, as it were.

Making up for the time that was about to be taken.

You felt yourself being dragged out of the entryway, and you eagerly let it happen. In the past times you’d been to his apartment, you’d never seen his bedroom, but you knew where it was. Todoroki led you there, his lips barely leaving yours for breath, fingertips pressing in wherever they could reach.

The next thing you knew, your knees were hitting the back of a bed and you allowed yourself to be pushed back. You landed on a soft comforter atop a neatly made bed, and were met with Todoroki’s hard body crawling on top of yours. You continued to make out and you thought that if this was how you spent your last night before leaving Japan, you’d be happy. You were already happier than you’d been in ages.

Todoroki was panting when he pulled away from you, kneeling over you so that he looked powerful in a way that you didn’t usually acknowledge. You were intimately aware of Todoroki’s strength, but usually it was matched with yours, used to compliment and support you and vice versa. But now it was ­­­­suspended over you and it sent a thrill through your core. This was a side of him that you’d always wanted to see, always imagined, but never believed would be yours.

“Y/N,” he said, brushing a soft hand down your arm, the light touch making you shiver. “What do you want?”

“What do you want?” you asked, pressing up, entangling your legs.

Now both of his hands were on your arms and you loved the touch, warm on one hand, chilled on the other, but both making you equally heated.

“I want to be with you,” he said, the rare euphemism coming out as assuredly as any blunt word ever had from him. “I want to have you.”

“Me too,” you said, pushing on your knees to catch his lips again.

Then there was no stopping you. Todoroki’s hands moved down to the hem of your sweater—too cold for outside, too hot in the bar, and utterly unneeded here—and ripped it over your head before starting on the buttons of his shirt.

In the meantime, you pressed your way into his lap, riding his thighs a little as you kissed him, making your way down his neck and leaving the softest kisses, reveling in the shiver it sent down his spine as you did.

“Sensitive?” you whispered in his ear.

“Mhmm,” he murmured. Then his own shirt was off, and a quick flick of his fingers behind your back sent your bra following.

Then you were pushed back on the bed, his lips now giving your neck the same treatment. You felt him lingering in one spot halfway between your jaw and your collarbone, his teeth just barely grazing the soft skin. Before you knew what you were asking for, you whispered, “Do it,” and felt his lips latch and give a good suck.

You were going to Siberia. A scarf would never leave your neck. You’d be clothed head to toe every moment you were there, you were sure. He could mark up your whole body and no one would ever know.

What was more—you wanted him to.

You wanted to dress in the morning, clean yourself and see the footprints of his presence on your body. Little reminders that this wasn’t a dream, one of the many fantasies that had eaten at you, feeling good until they left you hollow. This was as real as the familiar smell of his detergent on his navy blue bedding. The poster of All Might you couldn’t really be surprised to see.

A moan escaped your lips as you felt the spot on your neck go hot with his ministrations, and you knew the bruise would linger for days. You grew wet at the thought of it.

“More.”

Obediently, Todoroki trailed down your neck to your chest, taking in the sight of your upper half bare to him. You’d seen him topless before, usually when the two of you exercised together, his body glistening with sweat, rippling as various muscle groups enjoyed his focus. But he’d never seen you. He looked up at you, eyes almost too soft to bear, and said, “You’re beautiful.”

You bit your lip and your head fell against his pillow as his mouth descended onto your breast, not the nipple but just above. He sucked a new spot, this one even more private than the previous. You arched your back into his mouth, wanting him to know how much you wanted it, how much you needed it. He could read you as well as ever, sucking the spot until the pain was sharp, then releasing and laving his tongue over it. Then he sunk his teeth into your nipple.

“Ah,” you gasped, gripping his hair and tugging. That pulled the smallest moan, almost a grunt out of him, and you realized that you needed more. You needed more, fast.

“Shouto,” you breathed, reaching down his waist towards his pants, but arms not quite long enough to make it there. Still, he looked into your eyes and understood, giving a smile that bloomed one of your own and pushed his jeans down, leaving him in nothing but tight boxers.

You could see his bulge straining against the fabric and your heart knocked against your chest. This was your partner, the man who held your life in his hands on the daily and his in yours. The man you sat up with doing paperwork, and who worked missions with you when you were both dead on your feet, starving, and snippy.

How did that add up to where you were now? You didn’t know, but when he unbuttoned your pants and looped his fingers around the hem, you lifted your hips. Your panties when halfway down with them, leaving half your ass against the comforter and the tops of your pubes frizzing out, but what did it matter?

You didn’t wait for Todoroki and pushed your panties the rest of the way down yourself. You immediately felt the slickness at your center begin to dribble down your thighs, sticking them together. Todoroki took the invitation and removed his boxers as well, revealing himself in his full glory to you. He was pale along the shaft and red at the tip—the same colors that you associated with him. You blushed at the thought, unable to miss the subtle dual-tone of his pubic hair, more muted in color than the hair on his head. You’d never be able to look at his split color the same way again.

Your hand was on the back of his neck, bringing him to you before you could overthink things any further. His dick pressed against the crease of your inner thigh as you tasted his tongue, the flavor of the martinis all but gone at this point and replaced with nothing but him and you.

“Y/N,” he managed, his voice coming out rough as he grinded against you, the whole of his length making it from your crosswise crease to your belly button, leaving sticky pre on your stomach. “I feel I should tell you…it’s been a while for me.”

“Me too,” you answered quickly, lifting your hips into his, pulling a groan from him.

When was there time to be meeting people—much less people who weren’t influenced by your being a mid-tier celebrity—when you were a pro hero? Not that there was any point in trying. You’d barely been able to look at other men as you spent your days fighting off a growing crush on your partner.

“I’m just saying,” he said as you went to press your lips against his neck again, “this might be over quickly.”

That affected you, causing you to bite down high on his shoulder, where the tall neck of his hero costume would more than cover.

You didn’t care about how long he would last. The base of his length had moved between your lips and was grinding soundly against your clit, ensuring that your own orgasm wouldn’t be far off either. But while you weren’t particular about how long it lasted you didn’t want it to be over. You wanted to stay in this forever.

“Nothing to prove,” you said, returning to his lips and taking them in yours. “Just need you.”

“Me too,” he said, voice low and throaty. Your heart flipped before you forced yourself not to read into it. There was no subtext. Never any subtext.

He reached away from you, pulling at a drawer next to his bed to pull out a pack of condoms. He picked a square from it and tossed the rest aside before ripping it open. He rolled the rubber down himself and you took in his size again.

It would be a lie to say that you’d never thought about what Shouto was packing before. You’d seen his costume in ribbons after a particularly grueling battle, leaving little to the imagination. You saw the thickness of his thighs, the jut of his hipbones. You’d wondered what else was there.

He didn’t disappoint. The condom left a good inch or two at the base of his cock uncovered, and he wasn’t narrow either. He’d be a stretch, a delicious elongation for you to make room for.

His hand left his dick and went to your center and you spread your legs automatically. He reached with two fingers and spread your wetness up and down your pussy. You groaned at the feeling, arching your hips up to encourage him further. Hesitantly, he began to press one finger into you and then another.

“Damn, you’re tight,” he said. “You weren’t kidding.”

You just squirmed beneath him, all of his movements far too slow to stoke anything but the smoldering coals within you. But you needed Shouto’s fire.

“Sho,” you whined. “Don’t tease.”

“I just don’t want to hurt you,” he said, his voice not carrying an ounce of the smugness that another man’s would.

“You’d never hurt me,” you said, lifting your arms up and encouraging him toward you. He indulged, giving a couple more pumps of his fingers, scissoring them just a couple times and then pulling out. Without hesitation, he slipped them into his mouth and sucked them clean.

Your face went hot. The pure nonchalance of his gesture didn’t even seem to register, as his hand dropped to the bedspread, his lips back down to yours. You tasted the tinny flavor of yourself on his lips and only felt more aroused.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice soft and hot in your ear.

You grinned. “Impatient.”

He chuckled as his knuckles brushed against your thigh, guiding his dick to your core. And then he was pressing in, stretching you wide despite the prep that he’d done. Your body ached, wanting to pull away from the discomfort, but also yearning to feel whole, feel full. But he was filling you up so slowly.

“There you are, princess.”

You felt the head of his cock kiss your cervix, and when you looked down, you saw that he wasn’t even all the way in. A good inch still hung out, keeping his hips from being flush with yours, keeping you from being as close as possible.

But you felt it, that heat that started in your groin and moved up through your stomach and your chest as you squeezed your walls around him, feeling every bit that you could. Sex wasn’t love, you knew that, but then why did having him so close make your heart flutter in a way that it didn’t when he was gone?

“Can I move, sweetheart?”

You were gone. The tone of his voice, the words on his lips made anything possible. You would take whatever he would give you and hold it with both hands.

“Please.”

He started with a gentle rocking, barely leaving you, and you were grateful for that. You were so warm when he was deep inside you, his swollen cock pressing against the nerves of your clit, even from inside. He took one hand and pressed it against the base of your belly and every sensation turned hot, searing. Every drag of his cock was magnified, and you could see the light ripple of your belly every time he plunged into your depths.

You gasped and wrapped your arms around his back, nails finding the skin under his shoulder blades and digging in. “Oh, fuck,” you whined as he upped his pace, sweat making your skin stick to each other.

“What do you need?” he grunted, his words knocking you out of your daze just enough to hone in on his sentiment.

“Fingers,” you breathed.

Todoroki rotated his hand so that the heel of his palm pressed right above your pubic bone, and the tips of his fingers began toying with your clit. After that, it wasn’t long. Your hands clawed at his back, knees rose all on their own and clung to his sides.

“Shouto,” you cried desperately. “Shouto…!”

“I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you.”

“I—” Your voice broke as the heat spread from your core and your chest to all through your body. Even your extremities, always cold from your quirk, became flush with warmth, your cheeks hot, lashes wet as Todoroki only seemed to move quicker. “I’m—Shouto!”

Your breath left you as your orgasm tore out of you. It seemed that was all Todoroki needed, as he pushed a few more desperate ruts into you, half your name passing his lips before he stuttered to a halt, only managing a few more rough passes of his cock before he collapsed on top of you.

You panted as the heat left your body, save for all the corners at which Todoroki was still pressed against you. Those were hot, hot as any touch from him had ever been. You felt him adjust his hips as he pulled out of you, but you didn’t loosen your hold across his back, not wanting to break apart.

“Y/N,” Shouto said after a minute. “We have to clean up.”

Always so logical. Always so sensible. Your brows furrowed above your closed eyes as you tried to wish it away. You wanted to stay here. As long as you stayed put, it felt like time was paused in this moment for you. That you could live in afterglow forever.

“I know,” you said, but you made no sign to move.

Todoroki seemed to think this was because he was on top of you and rolled to the side, peeling of the condom as he did so.

You shivered immediately, your combined sweat on your chest cooling and leaving your skin tacky and raised with goosebumps.

“C’mon,” Todoroki said, placing a hand over yours. “We’ll take a shower.”

He helped you up, your body heavy, though you didn’t know if it was from pleasure or denial, and led you to the bathroom, flicking on the shower.

Under the hot spray, you leaned into the touches of Todoroki treating your skin with soap, pressing his hand gently between your legs to clean you of evidence of your activities. When he faced away from you, you gasped at the lines of red you’d left down his back, pairs of stripes marking either side of his spine. The spot you’d left on his neck was already purple, as were the two he’d left on you.

“I’m so sorry, Shouto,” you said, rubbing light fingertips over the raised spots.

“I don’t mind,” he said, turning around and taking your hand in his. “Don’t worry.”

He passed his thumb over the bruise on your breast and, despite the warm water, the soft touch had you shivering again. The intimacy was surprising. Weren’t you supposed to rebuild your walls after your time in bed was over? Was this a one night stand?

It had to be. Because you were leaving.

With that thought on your mind, you wrapped your arms around him and hid your face in his shoulder as the water poured over you. You couldn’t face him.

But you surely couldn’t let him go either.

“Stay.”

You felt Todoroki’s chest rumble around your hands, his words carrying into your bones. You weren’t certain whether he was talking about tonight, or asking you not to go to Russia. But, either way, tonight, you could do. It was all you could do.

The vibration of your phone was faint, but pulled you from slumber as the sensation rattled up your arm. Somehow you’d managed to keep your phone clenched in your sleep and you fumbled as quickly as you could in your haze to turn off the alarm. Your motions were imprecise as sleep and the last vestiges of alcohol coated a thin film over your senses.

You blinked at your phone. 4am. It was early, but that didn’t mean you had time to spare. As you tried to peel through the murky layers in your mind, you became aware of the sensation of something thick and warm across your middle.

The next breath you took squeezed your chest, seeming to inflate your heart instead of your lungs, bolstering the dual weight of joy and heartache. Todoroki’s touch was always one that you craved, his left side so warm to your constant chill while his right side never shivered at your own cold touch. You wanted to curl in closer, scoot back to deny the few inches that were separating most of the lines of your bodies.

But you couldn’t. The arm was enough of a problem.

As slowly as you could, you scooted out from under his hold, hoping that the alcohol—or the sex—had rendered Todoroki out cold. This was the first time you’d seen him in repose, so you weren’t sure of your luck. He’d never told you if he was a heavy sleeper or not.

So you could only hope for the best as you slid to the ground, recovering the clothes you hadn’t put back on after your shower and gathered them in your arm. You just had to leave the bedroom without waking him up.

But that didn’t mean you couldn’t look back.

Todoroki’s room was dark, each piece of furniture nothing more but a rectangular shadow in the sparse space. But Todoroki’s hair, pure white on his right side, caught just enough light to draw focus to the bits of him that poked out of his blanket. His cheek pressed against the same pillow you’d used, the second one behind him resting untouched. You let yourself study him, memorize him like this, and then brought a hand to your lips and blew him a kiss, relieved you hadn’t woken him.

You didn’t know what you’d do if you had to say goodbye.

The good thing was that you could feel that you weren’t hungover. You and Todoroki had both gulped big glasses of water before bed and it seemed it had paid off. Of course now you had to pee, but that would just have to wait. You couldn’t risk making the noise.

You called a car to Todoroki’s building. You were all packed back at your place, and then you’d have to dash to the airport to make the flight that had been arranged for you. It seemed this was all happening so quickly to keep you from even being able to consider making a decision. Your next steps were handed to you quicker than you could plan for. Your agreement was expected. Assured.

You shuffled back into your clothes at the front door, not wanting the pull of your sweater against your skin or the zip of your jeans to alert Todoroki to your sudden departure. Then you slipped on your shoes and pushed yourself out the door before your car was even ten minutes away. Once you closed Todoroki’s door, there was no way back in—an automatic lock. No turning back.

As you passed through the bright corridors of the apartment complex and then to the sheet of darkness outdoors, you felt the stillness of the world at 4am. Your sluggishness from both the remaining alcohol in your system and the paltry three or so hours of sleep you’d gotten feeling endemic to the atmosphere. It was a lull, providing you just enough awareness to gently guide you through the motions, but not enough to truly have to think about them.

The cold curled around you as you waited on the car, making you shiver through your sweater despite your high tolerance. You wished that Todoroki was back beside you, making you warm with either his quirk or just his presence. But now, every move you made was taking you one step further from him for who knew how long.

Time crept by before your car finally approached. You sent it in the direction of your own apartment, dark and empty, and told the guy to wait once you got there. You’d be right back down.

And then it was off to the airport to catch a redeye due north.

Shouto felt cold.

Not from his quirk. No, he’d just finished his first solo patrol in months, and there wasn’t a villain to be seen, so he hadn’t had to use either his right side or his left.

Now that he was back at the agency, he felt sluggish. Pulling his boots off, unzipping his uniform was a chore. He placed them on the wooden bench mechanically, wondering if this was what the next month or so would be like since you had left his apartment this morning.

The thought of it was bittersweet. He’d been so happy yesterday, and then had woken up to find nothing but bunched up covers in front of him when he’d woken up. Your smell had barely even lingered, since you’d showered using his soap. He’d been left alone with little more than the memory that you’d been there at all, the whole thing barely feeling real at that point.

He’d been cold ever since.

It took Shouto only five minutes to fill out his no-incident log, and then there was nothing to do but go home. But the last time he’d gone home had been with you by his side, the promise of kisses in the air between you. He was loath to replace that memory by schlepping home with loneliness as his new partner.

He closed his locker door with a slam, frustration feeding his emotions. He needed to snap out of it. You were his partner, dammit, and you were away on hero work. That shouldn’t have left him feeling so empty.

Worse, he didn’t know what to make of last night. You both had been tipsy, but not drunk—he was sure of that. You’d been to enough company holiday parties, galas, and celebrations to know each other’s spectrums of drunkenness pretty well. So that meant there should be no regret, right? He didn’t regret it.

But you’d left without saying goodbye. Had you just been upset about having to leave and had got caught up in the moment? Had you been trying to communicate something he wasn’t getting?

Shouto ran an irritated hand through his hair and left the locker room, marching for the elevator. When he made it to the boss’s door, he gave three good raps of his knuckles and waited, his nerves more on edge than they’d been for his entire shift. He touched the bruise at the base of his neck through the turtleneck he had on now. It was probably good he’d been in the locker room alone. This morning, he’d gotten a good look at the scratches you’d put on his back, flashing immediately back to the moments before your orgasm when you’d clung to him so tightly, seeming to need him more than you ever had in combat.

“Come in.” Shouto walked in to see the agency’s manager smiling up at him as she lowered her laptop screen. “Oh good, I was hoping to speak to you, “Shouto.”

She gestured to one of the chairs in front of her desk, plush green ones with rounded upholstered backs. Shouto sat down and eyed her wordlessly.

“We haven’t worked out the details completely, so that’s why I hadn’t called you in yet, but it’s just as well that you’re here,” she began, intertwining her fingers and resting her chin on them. She was casual in a way that Shouto didn’t quite think was professional, but that you always said you appreciated. “We’ve been speaking with Deku’s manager and think that it’s a great opportunity while Snow is gone for a little PR between the two of you. It’ll look good, the two of you, high school friends, crossing agencies to do a little partner work to make up for the fact that Snow isn’t here.”

“That sounds fine.”

He wouldn’t mind working with Deku—they didn’t get to see each other often enough as it was now that they were both pros. Their quirks didn’t work as well together as yours and his did, but he did know Deku’s style well enough to be able to work seamlessly. It would do in the interim.

“Of course, it’s too bad to lose her while you two are going up in the rankings, but we’ll just have to make the best of it.”

“Right,” Shouto said, his hands going clammy. “Have you heard from her? Do you know if she’s landed?”

“The flight has landed,” she said. “But I have not heard from Snow. There won’t be any internet or cell service there.”

Shouto’s eyes widened, posture falling forward. “What?”

“That’s right,” she said, looking only the slightest bit apologetic. Not nearly enough. “I’ll probably get occasional updates about the course of the operation, but we can’t expect anything more than that.”

“So we just won’t hear from her for a month,” he stated, voice tumbling out quick with disbelief.

“Maybe less, maybe more.”

Shouto stared, able to see his reflection in his boss’s perfectly polished glasses. His jaw worked as he finally looked down, hands pushing against the seat of his chair, ready to push up and out of there. “Are we finished?”

“You’re dismissed.”

Shouto swept out of there, feeling the tension of a slowly ticking clock following him.

November

“Three, two, one.”

The man beside you put his hands on the wall and you felt the telltale vibration that the snow around your feet never seemed to dampen. A round hole dug through the thick concrete wall of the building you were back against as you held a pile of snow taken from the ground aloft, ready to turn it into spikes or a dense shield or sword at a moment’s notice.

As soon as the wall was dug through, you charged in first, masses of snow floating on either side of you. You ran fast, perhaps a bit quicker than was strategic. The nondescript hallways of the concrete building blurred past you, mixing in a blur of beige as you kept your senses alert. All you could pick up on, though, were your own echoing footsteps and those of the team behind you.

When the path split, so did your group, different people going down different hallways as you continued straight, barreling forward. There had to be something this time. Some clue, some person. Or, gods willing, maybe the whole operation would fall into your lap. Rarely did you hope for battle when on patrol, but you were. Eight weeks and yet to actually interact with any of the big bads you’d read about had you itching for a fight. Hungry for it.

Anything to get this over with.

But you already knew there was nothing. Nothing more than the dank smell of mold from melted snow traveling from the grimy corners of rooms and hallways into the air. The wireless communicator in your ear was silent and you didn’t see anything to hint at any signs of human life. No footprints—nothing.

You let go of some of the snow you were holding, turning it to ice slabs and sticking it to the rough texture of the cement walls. You weren’t going to waste your energy on villains who weren’t here.

You barely felt yourself slowing to a stop, nearly causing the person behind you to smack into you. “Sorry,” you said, before gathering the strength to at least keep walking.

A clean sweep would have to be done before this building was rendered a lost cause like all the rest. And then you’d go back home.

Well, not home. Not even close.

“Why don’t you go outside?”

The Mole’s eyes were on your leg, which was bouncing up and down as you sat in a rocking chair, trying and failing to read. You turned to him, eyes cold. He had the strange snout of a star-nosed mole, though it had nothing to do with his quirk. Neither did his name, which you always thought made it sound like he was some sort of spy. No, his quirk was tunneling, which was handy for powering through old cement prisons, seeing if they had hidden basements but made for quite the nightmare from a hero branding standpoint. You’d gone simple. Ice quirk. Snow.

“Fine,” you said, standing up, feeling the heat you’d created in your leg from the anxious bouncing.

It took five minutes to bundle up. Thick socks over your thermal leggings and snow pants over those. Gloves then jacket, scarf then coat. Hat and waterproof boots. All that and when you stepped outside, you still felt the cold biting into you. Still, outside might have been cold, but inside was stifling. After two months you had cabin fever bad.

It turned out that Siberia had its own League of Villains much like the one Todoroki had interacted so much with during his high school days. Siberia housed a lot of prisons that had been dealing with high profile escapes for months. Then people with matching quirks descriptions were showing up in groups, wreaking havoc only to recruit more members.

But they were slick. Siberia was so vast that so long as the villains made it in and out quickly, hunting them down was a wild goose chase. By now, you were afraid that they had one or more teleportation quirks in their ranks, able to send them hither and yon without so much as a scent to follow.

Thinking about it too hard grated on your nerves, though, so you walked over to the garden. This was the real reason why you’d been sent to Siberia alone, without room for even just one other person to join you. Your group of heroes was off the grid with as little contact with the outside as possible. That meant growing your own food.

In the arctic.

You approached a woman who simply went by Dell—you didn’t know if it was her real name or a hero title—who had bare fingers to the soil, coaxing life out of a potato sprout. You crouched behind her, back naturally curling to match her premature hunch, making her look older than she was—and she did look old. There’d been no snowfall today, so the only snow that had to be cleared was that that had been blown by the wind. Light stuff, easy to move as breath itself—easier, actually. In this cold, every breath felt like it tore at your nostrils, then your lungs. You’d thought you were used to the cold, but it turned out you didn’t truly know it.

You easily moved the snow that had strayed into the garden, compacting it into a snowball and dropping it in your hand to toss it off into the pine trees. That brought you a smile, at least. Then you began the harder work of picking the frost out of the soil. You’d grown spoiled, manipulating little ice other than Todoroki’s for three years now. What he created was perfectly pure, exactly what your quirk liked best. This stuff was tiny, stuck in dirt and warped with atoms besides hydrogen and oxygen. It was good practice, but it made you miss the ease with which you interacted with Todoroki’s quirk. Like it was an extension of your own.

Dell’s eyes were closed, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think that she was totally unaware of your presence, her focus solely on the plants. They were growing, just barely perceptively—almost a trick of the eyes. If you stared long enough, though, you could see a leaf’s edge move past one wrinkle on her knuckle to another, a mark of the growth.

Her quirk allowed for her to steer nutrients from the earth into plants. So long as they had sunlight and water, they could grow more rapidly. She could protect them somewhat from the cold as well, but your quirk was also intended to help with that. While you couldn’t heat the soil, you could keep the frost off of it, keep the leaves bare and pointing up to the sun.

“Bad nerves?”

You looked at Dell, her eyes still closed. You couldn’t even say what color they were, you’d so rarely seen them open. When they were, she was walking from one plot to the next, eyes cast down. Humans got her ears and her mouth, plants got her eyes and her touch. As for smell—it was hard to smell anything in this cold, much less through the scarves everyone had bundled up to their eyes.

“No,” you said, perhaps a bit petulantly. One didn’t get to be a hero with bad nerves. You had to be cool and calm under pressure. Steady.

“They sent you out again.”

It had become a habit of the group, the dozen or so members who had access to this remote cabin. A location only to be found with coordinates of latitude and longitude, as there were no other landmarks for miles. Just snow, trees, and Dell’s small garden. When the few weeks your boss had promised you turned to the month you’d promised Todoroki, then turned to five weeks and even six, you’d become more and more ornery. At least you always had Dell to talk to when you were kicked out, the comfort of the snow around you feeling both familiar and allowing you to feel powerful.

No one had mentioned that you’d have no internet access. No cell phone. No courier service. The detectives in the group had some internet access, but it was strictly for professional use. Not a single private email was to be sent.

“Not a lot of patience for fidgeters,” you mumbled. “Gotta do something to stay warm.”

“The fireplace makes me sweat,” Dell commented, shifting to the next plant over.

It did for you too—you’d just been making an excuse. It was so hard to get a neutral temperature in this place. This was the land of extremes. Blizzard or drought, heat or frostbite. Yet people continued to survive and have the propensity to commit crimes.

“Something is on your mind.”

Todoroki.

On your flight north, you’d let the warm feelings of your night together linger over you, kindling into hope. He hadn’t said anything, but Todoroki wasn’t foolish enough to jeopardize a years’ old partnership for the sake of carnal passion. No, if he was going to sleep with you, it was going to be for a reason. Just like you.

Since then, you’d been in two months’ worth of circles.

“I didn’t tell anyone goodbye,” you said, just one of the many things that had been on your mind. “I didn’t get to tell anyone.”

You’d put every effort into not waking him. You hadn’t left a note. You hadn’t stolen one last kiss or even a touch of his hand. You’d thought you’d be able to talk again. Soon.

What was the point of being one time zone away if you couldn’t make contact?

“You’re missing someone,” Dell surmised, pulling a potato the size of her fist from the ground you’d just cleared of frost. Without you, it would have taken a shovel to do that. The frozen ground here was as hard as asphalt.

“Yeah,” you said. It wasn’t that you didn’t miss everyone else, but at least you knew what you’d be coming back to with anyone else in your life. You relationships were stable. But Todoroki…

“You’re in love.”

You’d been staring at the dirt, your eyes practically frozen over. You blinked up to find Dell’s eyes staring at you. They were a murky brown—or maybe a murky blue. They were right in that land of in between.

“Can you really be in love if you’re not in a relationship?” you asked. “If you’re not in it with someone else, really testing out what your compatibility is like? Isn’t it just a crush otherwise?”

You didn’t know why you were asking her. You were the only person you ever saw speaking with Dell—the others seemed to think that her plants were enough for her, that she had all the conversation that she needed with them. Maybe that was true. You had no idea what she knew of love.

“Is dating the only way to know those things?” she asked. “Is dating the only relationship of meaning?”

“Of course not,” you answered. It sounded stupid the way she said it. You and Todoroki were partners—had been. You had no idea if you’d been replaced. Certainly temporarily, if not permanently. But you knew how the two of you worked. Perfectly in tandem. As each other’s other half.

The wry laugh that followed didn’t come out as anything more than a breath, muffled in our scarf.

“So you love them,” she said, a smile quirking her lips as she pulled another potato. “But they don’t know.”

“I thought he might,” you said, the cold from both the air and your quirk leeching out any heat that that cabin had brought you.

“But now?”

You had no clue.

December

As The Mole tunneled into this building, you could tell it was different right away. Rather, you could hear it.

Human noises. Voices. Multiple of them. You ran in first, taking your place as the muscle of the group as you carried as much snow and ice in with you as you could without inhibiting your peers’ vision. You stuck patches of it to the wall, where it wouldn’t be in the way, but would be available for you to call on. Then you readied a staff of ice, compact with no air pockets so that they wouldn’t snap as soon as a fist or weapon came at them.

You began knocking people down indiscriminately, thwacking them with your staff and then sending slicks of ice to their feet, sending people sprawling. You created handcuffs and restraints watching to see who had a quirk that would let them crack out of them, only for you to trap them in something bigger.

Three months. Three months of isolation with no one but a handful of colleagues to keep you company, nothing but the case and the garden to give you purpose. Now, all of that impatience, all that frustration came walloping out on these villains, descriptions matching the text that had burned into the back of your eyes.

A screech came through the hallway, making your fingers go numb almost too quickly to counter for. But these villains didn’t know who they were dealing with.

You formed hunks of ice in your ears, freezing one of the only parts of your body that still felt the warm pulse of your blood, but silencing out some of the noise. You clenched your staff, ignoring the tingles of the villain attack and headed back into battle, deafened, looking for a mouth to fill with ice.

It was easy to spot the one making the soundwaves. It was a quirk similar to Present Mic’s, except the pitch was always high and, rather than just being painfully loud, it was at such a frequency that it messed with the nervous system. You jabbed some snow into his mouth, feeling it form around the nooks and crannies of his teeth, pressing it up against his soft palate, and turned it from compact snow to hard ice, hoping he got brain freeze.

You weren’t usually so coldhearted. But you’d been in Siberia for three months. You wouldn’t allow anyone to get frostbite. You’d cuddle any villain you gave hypothermia to if you had to. But your nerves were raw as your throat was with every frozen breath you took. It had taken three days through the tundra to reach this place.

Your patience was at its end. You’d been brought on to be the brute force.

So you were brutal.

You continued plowing through the crew in the windowless hallway, catching more of the quirks you’d read about in the mission’s write ups. Fortunately, most people could be stopped by ice—it just depended how much ice would be needed. The next thing you knew, a hole was burst through in the ceiling. You raised a shield of ice over your head, saving you from the dust and plaster that rained down on you, though it did little to help your vision.

You were unsure if the move had been done by your side or theirs, an accident or not. But it was to the villains’ detriment, as you were now able to reach your pull out of the building and drag in heaps of snow through the new hole. Now you could cage people completely if you needed to; you could freeze the whole room.

Although, suddenly, it became much harder to do that. Your ice wanted to melt. You had to focus on all that you’d already molded, keeping it solid and strong as you felt the temperature in the room steadily rising. You were sweating, both from the exertion of the fight and then the heat you first felt on the exposed skin of your face and then at your extremities, tingling from the temperature change now that the previous numbness had dissipated. Something was coming. Something hot.

Then you saw it, a bright orange flecked with streaks of yellow and red, fluid and coming at you. Reflexively, you brought your ice up to shield you. It held long enough to turn the incandescent source from orange to black in an instant. Then what was once liquid was suddenly solid, sending it crashing through your ice and to your skull.

You didn’t even remember falling.

You woke up to a pounding headache, exacerbated by the constant rumbling underneath you. You opened your eyes and found yourself already sitting up, strapped in the backseat of a car.

Panic shot through your veins immediately. You’d been caught. The villains were taking you somewhere. The feeling only lasted a second, though, as your wits returned. You were bound by nothing more than a seatbelt, limbs loose and free to unbuckle at an instant.

“What’s happening?” you asked, your voice dry.

The teammate beside you handed you a water bottle as The Mole began to speak from the driver’s seat. “Mission’s over, kid,” he said, “I tunneled the lava quirk into the ground and when he used his quirk to ride back up, we were able to capture him.”

“But what about all the other villains?” you asked

You had no idea how many had been there. Your shots had been fired indiscriminately at anyone who wasn’t one of the few people you’d spent the last three months holed up with. Everyone else had gotten your ice—until that lava villain had melted it.

“Your ice held even when you were unconscious,” he said, glittering eyes catching yours in the rearview mirror. “You’ve got a strong grip, kid.”

You furrowed your brow, drawing your attention back to the throbbing at the side of your head. You were definitely concussed, but that was nothing you couldn’t push through.

What The Mole was describing shouldn’t have been possible. Certainly, the ice couldn’t have been that strong to have withheld the heat that villain brought into the room. Unless you were holding it in place. Which you always had to put thought into. Thought that wasn’t possible when you were knocked out.

You froze a bit of the water in the bottle that was in your hand, playing with the ice as you shifted the fractals from snow to ice, changing the shapes like you were twisting the base of a monochrome kaleidoscope.

Your quirk had gotten stronger here. All the snow you’d worked with—the vast amounts, the uncontrollable impurities, not to mention your hours of detail work in the garden—it had refined your craft. Outside of the minimal hero work you’d been able to pull off—until the hurrah at the end, of course—the last three months had been an intensive in using your quirk. In living up to your hero name as you were thrust into the stuff it was made of. Without Todoroki to rely on.

“Are we going home?” you asked suddenly. The Mole had said that the mission was over, but…

“Yeah, we’re all going home,” he said, and you could hear the grin on his face.

Home, you thought in relief, your head falling gently to the headrest. Then you froze.

Home.

Shouto.

“Shouto?”

Midoriya was right in front of Shouto, eyebrows raised in concern. Shouto leaned back reflexively—he hadn’t even noticed Midoriya approaching him on the sidewalk. His training shouldn’t have allowed for that to happen, but he’d been distracted.

“Something on your phone?”

Shouto was suddenly aware that he’d been staring at his phone entirely too long. He’d barely noticed the snow landing and melting on the screen. He wiped it against his pants.

In the three months that he and Midoriya had been partnering—offset with many solo shifts and shifts with their various sidekicks—Shouto had been pushing himself. He’d been overcompensating because you’d become inextricable from his battling style over the years. And now that you were gone, he had to be on top of his game.

But, aside from that—he wasn’t mad about having to further hone his skills, after all—he and Midoriya had needed to be on their best behavior. There’d been more citizens and fans to interact with, more autographs to sign, more selfies to pose for. Midoriya had taken on your usual role of speaking with charm to the crowd, and Shouto was thankful. Thanks to him, PR had been right; Shouto’s public perception had gone up.

However, staring enraptured by his cell phone while on the job didn’t look good.

“She’s coming back,” Shouto said, unable to quite have it in him to put away the phone, still open to the email he’d just received. He had a special alert for work messages and he’d almost skipped this one when he’d heard the notification. They’d done nothing but disappoint him for weeks now—months.

“Snow?” Midoriya asked, his grin bright and genuine as ever. “Wow, that’s amazing! When?”

“Should be today,” Shouto said, staring back at the little box of black and white text on his screen. “Soon.”

His heart started pounding, and suddenly all the warmth that he’d been missing for months was pooling back in his belly, in his cheeks, in his sweaty palms.

“Shouto, are you okay?” Midoriya asked, cocking his head as he brought his hands up to the phone and lowered it.

“I’m not sure,” Shouto said, putting his phone back in his pocket to find his hands tingly, his fingertips feeling flush and warm. He took a step in the light dusting of snow, continuing the route of their patrol while Midoriya followed. “I feel very…anticipatory.”

“Anticipatory?” Midoriya echoed. “You mean excited? I know you’ve been eager for her to come back.”

“Yes, but…” Shouto let out a sigh, brushing both sweaty hands through his hair. “I don’t know.”

Midoriya smiled, eyes wide with mirth. “You’re nervous. What do you have to be nervous about?”

Shouto had been playing over the events of the last time he saw you for three months now to the point that word you’d said, every sound you’d breathed when you’d been underneath him was branded in his mind. But in between all of it, there’d never been any promises, any statements that he could glean your intentions from.

“We slept together. The night before she left.”

Midoriya nearly choked, doubling over coughing while Shouto cocked his head and patted the man’s back. He’d probably swallowed some spit.

“Midoriya,” Shouto continued, grateful that the snow was keeping people off the streets, and they could speak for a moment without hordes of fans approaching them for once, “do you think that one can make love to someone if it’s onesided?”

When he could stand straight again, Midoriya’s face was red, so Shouto waited for him to get his breath back under him as they began walking again.

“Um, wow, sorry, you just surprised me,” Midoriya said. “Can we backtrack for a second?”

“But nothing was happening back—”

“No, I mean,” Midoriya pinched the bridge of his nose and Shouto paused, allowing him to gather his thoughts, “was that the, uh, first time?”

“Yes.”

“And, er, nothing like that had ever happened before?”

“No.”

“And you’re in love with her?”

Shouto became aware of his heartbeat again, now moving up to his throat. He could see your face in his mind’s eye and wondered if your hair was longer or if you’d had it cut while you were away? Had being up north paled your skin since you’d been here in the fall, or would it have the same hue as when you’d left? It had been so long since he’d seen you; would he even notice?

“I’m not certain,” Shouto said. “But…”

Shouto put two fingers to the pulse point at the base of his neck. The mark you’d left there was long since gone, as were the marks on his back, but he could still feel the ghost of them. Your touch had hardly left his mind in the three long months of autumn turning over to endless winter.

“My heart races when I think of her.”

“Aw,” Deku said, his mouth turning down in one of those smiles that radiated out even when it curved the wrong way. “You do. But wait, you asked if you could, uh, make love if it’s onesided. Why do you think it’s onesided?”

“Because she didn’t say anything,” he reasoned. “And her actions could have meant a lot of different things.”

“Shouto,” Midoriya put a hand on Shouto’s shoulder, “obviously I don’t know the whole situation, but do you really think that her actions would mean anything other than her liking you?”

“I just…” Shouto made a block of ice in his hand, thinking of the fine control you had over your quirk. You could take this crude creation of his and turn it into something utilitarian, whimsical, beautiful. Then he took it in his other hand and melted it away. “I always thought I would be a solo hero. But I really don’t want to have to keep doing this without her.”

“So go,” Midoriya said. “You said she’ll be back soon, right? Go to her then. I can handle,” Midoriya gestured to the light flurries around them, “all this.”

Beyond the flurries there were only a few pedestrians, clad with umbrellas. There was a fairly steady parade of slow-moving cars on the city block, but no one seemed to be in a rush today. The snow made everything quiet.

“But I still don’t know—”

“You know, Shouto,” Midoriya said, an assured smile on his face. “So go do what you need to do.”

Upon getting to the airport, you’d had access to the internet for the first time since you’d left, and the first thing you’d done was google Todoroki’s name. You had to make sure that he was alive and uninjured. In doing so, you’d stumbled across heaps of articles with photos of him and Hero Deku, a few of which mentioned your absence and yours and Todoroki’s esteemed partnership.

Was there a partnership to come back to? Or had it been dissolved in your absence and you’d have to become a solo hero or settle for sidekicks until a new partner came along.

You weren’t sure that you’d ever be able to partner with someone else after working with Todoroki.

You’d become much stronger in your time abroad—you knew that now—but you wanted to bring that back to Todoroki. You wanted to show him what you’d learned, wanted to feel that power in a battle alongside him.

On the airplane, you tried to push all that aside and focused on Japan. You’d packed so sparely for the trip that the few pairs of socks you’d brought were threadbare, your costume in need of a replacement. You thought of the warmer weather, the longer days, the familiar faces, and your own warm bed. 

By the time you landed, you’d almost convinced yourself. You hailed a car, enjoying in the easy Japanese you exchanged with the driver rather than the broken English you’d brought with you to Russia.

All you needed was Japan. You could worry about everything else later

You had the car drop you off on the corner of the street from your apartment building. The snow was coming down, but it was different than it had been up north. It was only just starting to stick, each step leaving a bald spot on the sidewalk that would be filled again in a few minutes. The chill wasn’t bitter, the air no longer biting. For a moment, you reveled in the snow. It would likely be melted by noon tomorrow and, despite all the snow you’d just left, you’d still miss it when it was gone.

When you approached your building, you noticed a silhouette loitering outside through the dimming light of the afternoon. The sun set only an hour later than it did in Siberia—still not nearly enough daylight. No one knew that you were returning today, so this person couldn’t be waiting for you, but you still used your quirk to sweep away the snow to leave your vision unobscured between yourself and the figure.

You recognized the hair immediately. The last thing you’d seen before you’d left.

“Shouto?” you called, your pace increasing as you released the snow and it flurried back to fill the void you’d created. “What are you doing here?”

That rare smile tugged at his face and then he was coming your way, arms outstretched.

“I missed you so much.”

You felt his hands coming to clutch your arms first. Then, not a moment later, his lips slanted over yours and your suitcase toppled to the ground.

His lips were cold. The cheek your hand came up to touch was cold. But his tongue was hot, and you could feel the heat spreading throughout you as wildfire on kindling kept too dry and too isolated.

He pulled away too soon, your mouth taking in a breath of frozen air when it had expected another touch of his lips.

“I’m sorry, I should have asked,” he said, taking a step back.

“No, it’s okay!” you reassured him, feet creeping half a step forward, feeling the crunch of snow under your boot. “It’s just…we’re in public.”

You remembered last time, when Shouto’d had the foresight to save any physical affection for the privacy of his home. A good call, as it seemed that any knowledge of your stolen kiss at the bar hadn’t leaked.

“And it seems a lot of people have been enjoying taking your picture lately,” you said, referencing all the photos you’d seen with him and Deku.

He smiled again—maybe they weren’t so rare after all. “I don’t care. I mean, if you do that’s fine, but I want people to see us together. Because…I want to be together. If you do.”

He took your hands in his and you wished neither of you were wearing gloves. You wished all the bundled layers between you would fall away—you’d been in cold worse than this.

“I do,” you said, and you leaned in to kiss him to prove your point. If he was okay with people seeing, you didn’t care either. Your boss could take it up with you later. “I really do.”

“Good,” he said, and his hands slipped up your arms before wrapping behind you, pressing you against him. You clung to him, fists clutching the fluffy material of his coat. “I know that maybe it’s too early to call this a relationship or anything—”

“I don’t think so.”

Todoroki fell silent at your interruption, waiting for you to continue. But, for a moment, you contented yourself in breathing in his scent, before pulling your face away to look into his eyes, pupils wide from the dimming light.

“A friend told me that a relationship isn’t the only way to have a partnership with someone. That it wasn’t the only circumstance around which to have true feelings for someone,” you explained, thinking of Dell.

“You were thinking about this while you were away?”

“Every day.”

He kissed your forehead, and then his eyes urged you to continue. “What did you think about?”

“Well,” you started, feeling flush from the gesture, “the way I see it, things usually go crush, partnership, sex. Or, I guess if you’re feeling impatient, crush, then sex, then partnership. But we kind of did: partnership, crush, sex. We have all the right pieces, they were just out of order.”

“That’s not so bad,” he murmured, low voice sounding deep and rumbly so close to you. If you didn’t have the soft layers of your overcoats between you, you’d be able to feel the vibrations under your skin.

“So the only thing we really need to catch up on…is dating.”

Your eyes met his shyly, a question hidden in your words. Todoroki wasn’t always good at reading between the lines, but you were good at reading his face. You saw the understanding in his eyes.

“Well,” Todoroki said, looking around. “I understand if you’re sick of the snow, but it’s not that late yet. Maybe we could go for a walk and see where it takes us?”

“I’m never sick of the snow,” you said with a grin, taking one hand off Todoroki’s back so that you could pull all the flakes that had fallen on his person at once and swirl them in your hand, just like you’d done in the bar so many months ago. One of your favorite tricks since you were a kid. Then you dropped them to the ground with their brethren. “I even got pretty good with it.”

“Impressive,” Todoroki said. His voice was deadpan, but the brightness in his eyes hinted at his intrigue.

“I learned some tricks while I was away.”

“I can’t wait to see them,” he said. “And, you know, I don’t mind a little snow either.”

A snowflake landed on your cheek and before it melted, Todoroki leaned in and kissed it, replacing the cold with his heated touch. When you left the embrace, you remembered your suitcase flat on the ground, handle outstretched. Todoroki saw your gaze and reached for it, but you did him one better. You grabbed the thing and pushed it into a hedge outside your building, totally obscured in the low evening light. Todoroki raised a brow at you, but you just smiled, summoning snow and turning it to ice. You wrapped it around your suitcase, sticking it to the ground, and giving it a coating too troublesome for a thief to bother with hacking through with a pick.

“It’ll melt,” Shouto said. “We can just take it up to your room or leave it in your lobby.”

“No,” you said easily, looking up at the falling snow. “I don’t want to miss a moment of this. And besides, it won’t melt. I told you I’ve learned some tricks.”

And, just like always, he didn’t question you. He simply offered his hand to you and you took it as though it was ordinary. As though the many times you’d been side by side over the years had always been linked with a hand, not just trust.

Then, without a destination, you took off strolling. The night wasn’t nearly as dark as it had been in your little cabin in Siberia, what with all the city lights. The air was still below freezing, but you’d never felt warmer.

“Can I ask you something?” you said, before the air fully settled and left you in a lull of silent contentment. “Why did you bring me home with you? Back then. Did you like me and just didn’t say anything or…?”

Todoroki was quiet for a moment, the night air filled with the drone of slow-moving cars and the beeping of city crosswalks.

“It was nothing I had thought about before,” he admitted. “But when you kissed me, I wanted to kiss you back…because it was you.”

That didn’t really tell you anything. Nothing about what he’d felt before or after, nothing about how that had led him to waiting out of your building to kiss you again. But, at the same time, it told you everything. Because, after all, it was the same reason you’d kissed him. That you’d liked him at all. Because he was your partner, your best friend, the person you trusted with your life over anyone else.

Because…it was him.

[heyyyharry]

Deep End - Chapter 2: Birthday Boy

…in which Harry gets the birthday surprise he didn’t ask for.

Word count: 4.7k

AU: famous!harry, siren!mc, adult modern retelling of the little mermaid? lol, fake dating, enemies to lovers.

WARNING: MATURE THEMES

All chapters / Synopsis / Moodboard / Playlist

Wattpad link

A/N: Thank you for all the love for Harry and Ezi after chapter 1. Please let me know what you think about each chapter so I can be motivated to write faster 😆

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“Humans are so funny. You make up false stories about us and refuse to believe anything that isn’t the same as your imagination,” the siren said.

Harry tossed his head back and laughed. He held out a finger at her. “No, mermaids aren’t supposed to exist. You’re not supposed to exist.”

The siren narrowed her sharp gaze, and Harry quickly moved back a bit in fear of her grabbing his leg and pulling him into the water. To his surprise, she said, “And who are you to decide that? A useless human with a useless tail–”

“Okay, enough with the tail joke.”

“–can’t even survive the drowning deep. You don’t want to believe we exist, so you won’t have to carry the guilt of trashing our homes and murdering our kind.”

Baffled, Harry worked his jaw while silently cursing himself for never taking part in those debate classes back in school. Well, to be fair, he couldn’t have known that one day he would have to debate with a deadly siren in a cave on his goddamn birthday!

He shut his eyes and sucked in a breath. “Look, lady. I’m only one small human, with a bigger than average human tail, FYI.” The siren eyed at his crotch in disbelief, so he quickly crossed his legs. “But that’s beside the point! What I was trying to say was that, if you’re seeking revenge, I can’t satisfy you because I’m not responsible for trashing the ocean or shit like that. I’m a singer, alright? And I don’t even live here. I’m from London. A land far away. If you wanna murder a human, I suggest looking for Elon Musk.”

The siren stared at him like he was the mythical creature. “I’m not familiar with all the names you mentioned,” she said, folding her arms across her chest, which had been a big distraction for him. Good to know that he could still get horny while facing death.

“Don’t you guys have fish Wikipedia?” he asked, and she tilted her head, looking rather confused. Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed that you should know all the facts about humans. That sounded like discrimination against sirens.”

For the first time since Harry met this siren, she actually smiled at him. “You have a lot of funny words, you strange creature,” she said, her eyebrows knitted in fascination.

“You know what?” Harry exhaled sharply. “Since you’re my kidnapper, I’m gonna stop arguing with you in case you still wanna kill me. But today is my birthday, so I can’t be kidnapped. I haven’t posted a thank you message on Twitter yet, and I might get cancelled for that. Celebrities get cancelled for literally anything nowadays. It’s annoying.” The siren blinked at him, her pink lips slightly parted. “Right,” he breathed. “You don’t have a Twitter account.”

“You said you were a singer.”

“That’s all you got from my long speech?”

“What is it? Singer.”

Harry bit his dry lip and frustratedly combed his fingers through his damp hair. “I sing. Use my voice to entertain other people.”

“Oh, like sirens.”

“I guess.”

“Except that we use our voice to kill people.”

“What?”

“Sing for me,” said the siren despite Harry’s horrified look. She seemed excited as she rested her folded arms on a boulder and gazed up at him with a twinkle in her crystal clear blue eyes. “Let’s hear it. I didn’t know humans could sing. Let’s see if it’s good.”

“Fine.” Harry blew out his cheeks and cleared his throat.

He began to sing.

“Walk in your rainbow paradise–”

“What’s a rainbow paradise?” the siren asked, but he didn’t stop singing to answer her.

“–brown skin and lemon over ice.”

“Why are you singing nonsense words?”

Once again, he ignored her, this time, closing his eyes. “I get so lost inside your eyes. Don’t you believe it? You don’t have to say you love me.”

“Love,” the siren repeated the word as if she had never heard of it in her whole life.

Harry opened his eyes and found that she was looking at him as if she could see right through him. He went on, “You don’t have to say you’re mine. Oh honey, I-i-i-i walk through fire for you. Just let me adore you.”

“Why would you walk through fire for someone?” the siren wondered out loud as she stared off into the distance, her strong brows knitted. “That's stupid. Fire is hot. I saw the humans on the boats use it one night. I almost burned my fingers trying to touch it.”

“Yeah, don’t play with fire.”

“Then why would you walk through it?”

The siren pouted, and Harry caught himself smiling at her naivety. “It’s supposed to mean that you’d do anything for the person you love. Even risking your life.”

“That’s stupid,” the siren repeated her earlier remark. For a second, Harry saw a curious little girl and not a dangerous sea creature from earlier.

“Well, it’s just a song,” Harry told her. “I personally wouldn’t do that for anyone, either, but some people do love with all they have, and would sacrifice everything for the one they love.”

An angry frown had replaced the siren’s previous perplexed expression. “Some humans murder the ones they claim to love,” she said in a cold voice. Harry felt a chill running down his spine, but then the siren went on with a softened expression. “Sirens are not supposed to love. Love is a weakness for my kind.”

Harry nodded. “Bet you don’t even have a heart.”

The siren cocked her head; a corner of her mouth raised subtly. “Every living and breathing thing has a heart. Sometimes it’s valuable. Sometimes it's not.”

“Only valuable if it’s the heart that you want,” replied Harry.

For a long moment, the siren looked into his eyes as if she was trying to read his thoughts. Could she do that? Read his thoughts?

Beads of sweat were trickling down his back as his heart began to race; he could hear it in his ears. Suddenly, the siren was pulled beneath the water. Harry stiffened at once. The ocean was still for a moment, then two sparkling tails burst through the surface. Harry’s jaw fell slack with a soundless scream when he saw another siren sinking her fangs into the first one's neck.

The other siren had bright red hair and a silver tail. There were visible scars all across her pale, lanky arms, and he couldn’t see her face. Legs too stiff to run and hide, he stood on the edge and watched in absolute terror. The scene in front of him was madness as the sirens screeched, their tails flapping, creating violent waves as they sank their claws and teeth into each other’s flesh. Harry could see blood. The first siren was not as strong as the one that was attacking her. He must save her. Maybe a part of him knew that she wasn’t entirely evil. Maybe because she was the only hope for him to get home. Either way, he couldn’t just stand by and watch her die.

Before Harry could even think of a way, a bony hand wrapped around his ankle and dragged him into the sea.

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Harry’s dreams were thick with blood and haunted by the siren’s face. He’d been in the dark water, drowning, and the last thing he’d seen was her sapphire eyes glowing with the sunlight above as she’d stretched out her arm to grab him before he sank deeper. He woke up gasping, still feeling the saltiness of the ocean on his tongue and the pressure of water on his lungs.

He found himself lying on his bed, fully naked under the covers. Had he been dreaming?

Kneading his temple to chase away the headache, Harry scanned his sore eyes around the room and screamed when he saw her sitting in the corner. Naked. He looked away as soon as he caught her ocean blue eyes staring back.

The siren was in his room. And she had legs!

“You’re alive!” she exclaimed.

He heard her standing up but couldn’t bring himself to look. She sat down on the edge of his bed, smelling like the ocean. Not the fishy kind of smell; one that was unique, and Harry liked it even though he shouldn’t.

“This is a dream. This is a dream. This is a dream,” he mumbled to himself while clutching the duvet to his chest.

The siren, now a human girl, let out a sigh. “It’s not. This is real. I’m real.”

“You’re not.”

“Look at me.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“You’re...naked.”

Even though Harry wasn’t looking, he could feel her questioning gaze pinning on him. He grabbed the covers and shoved them at her. “Cover yourself.”

“Oh...okay.” The siren did as she was told as Harry quickly placed a pillow on his private part. He finally looked at her, and she smiled while covering her upper body and the area between her legs with the duvet.

Harry let out a sigh of relief. “Better. Okay, why are you here?”

The siren’s eyes widened. “You don’t remember?”

Harry shook his head.

“We were talking when my sister attacked me, then dragged you into the water. You were lucky I saved you twice and brought you back to where I’d found you. This is the only palace on this beach, so I assumed it was yours.”

Harry sat and stared her face, trying to detect a lie but failed.

The siren rolled her eyes. She seemed disappointed as she swept her long black hair over her shoulder, exposing the huge bite mark on her long pale neck. The skin had healed, and the blood had dried, but the area was still bruised. Harry fought the urge to touch it. There was no way this was really happening.

The siren shot a glance at his ankle. And that was when Harry noticed the red claw mark around it. He shivered at the flashbacks of a siren with red hair and a silver tail charging straight at him with her mouth wide open, her sharp teeth ready to tear off his flesh.

“Sorry about my sister. She could be very...deadly,” the siren in front of him said, looking remorseful.

Harry eyed her up and down once again. Finally, he broke his silence, “What happened to your tail?”

The siren refused to look him in the eye as she said, “My mother found out that I saved you, a human, so she cursed me.”

“Cursed you?”

The siren said nothing; the corners of her mouth lowered as she stared down sadly at her legs.

What kind of The Little Mermaid plot is this? Harry thought to himself, yet didn’t say it because it shouldn’t be a joke. She’d lost her tail, which meant she couldn’t go back to the ocean. Ariel from The Little Mermaid had wished to become a human. This girl had been cursed with the life she never wanted just to save him twice.

Harry buried his face into his palms. “Shit. Fuck. I’m sorry. This is all my fault.”

“It is your fault.”

His head whipped up at her honest response. “You always say what you think, don’t you?”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

Harry sighed and ran his palm over his face. “Never mind. How...how do I get you back to your mermaid form?”

“Siren.”

“Sorry, siren. How do I help turn you back?”

“I don’t know,” she said sadly, clutching the duvet to her chest. “But I need a place to stay until I figure it out.”

Harry thought for a moment and nodded. “I’ll pay for your hotel room.”

“What’s a hotel?” the siren asked, her eyes round. “And why can’t I stay here in your palace? It’s big and you live alone.”

“This is a house, not a palace,” Harry said. “But I’m going back to London tomorrow, and I can’t take you with me.”

“Where is London? I want to see London.”

Seeing her so excited made Harry laugh. “No, you don’t; trust me. It’s not sunny there. Always dark and gloomy and raining.”

“It’s not sunny underwater, either.”

Harry held up a finger and kept his mouth open for a moment as he pondered over what she’d said. “Good point. But I’m still not taking you to London. That’s not a good idea.”

The siren’s eyebrows drew together. “It was your fault I’m in this situation.”

Harry gasped. “You’re so manipulative!”

“I don’t know what it means.”

“It means you say things like that to get me to feel sorry for you, and so I have to help you.”

“Oh, then, yeah, I’m manipulative,” the siren said. “Take me to London with you, or I’ll find you in London and make your life hell.”

Harry tossed his head back and groaned. As if he hadn’t been traumatised enough by all the events that had happened today, now he had to take responsibility for the life of a mythical creature. If he had been a bad guy, he would have just let the government have her and keep her in a lab like that Oscar-winning movie about the dead girl and her fish lover. But Harry wasn’t a villain. Sure, he could be an asshole, but he couldn’t betray someone who’d risked her life to save his. Twice.

Maybe if he’d just say yes and then leave quickly in the morning, he wouldn’t have to deal with her. He’d ask someone to take care of her, pay for a place for her to stay and her food. Her mother would have to take her back eventually. He didn’t know about sirens, but even in the animal kingdom, mothers never abandoned their children.

“Fine, I’ll take you to London,” he said. Seeing the smile on her face, he was lowkey thankful that he was so good at lying. “First, you have to put some clothes on. Wait here.”

Carefully, he slipped out of bed, holding a pillow in front of his crotch and one behind him to cover his butt, then padded awkwardly to his closet to change and get her something to wear. When he returned, she was still sitting on his bed, humming a familiar song and kicking her feet as if testing out her new body parts. He found it endearing, but of course, he wouldn’t tell her.

He handed her a bathrobe. “Put this on. I’ll find some real clothes for you later.”

The siren accepted the bathrobe and stared at it as if she’d been told to put it in her mouth and chew. She glanced up at him. “I don’t understand the purpose of this.”

“To cover up your private parts.”

Suddenly, she seemed sad. “I think I’m broken.”

Harry blinked. “What?”

She looked at him again, pouting. “I don’t have a tail.”

“I can see that.”

“No, I mean, a tail like yours.”

When Harry realised what she meant, his face burned, and he cleared his throat into his fist. “You’re not supposed to,” he said awkwardly. “You’re...a female. I bet male sirens don’t look the same as you, right?”

“There’s no male sirens,” she told him.

Harry cocked his head to the side, squinting his eyes. “Huh? Then how do you guys...you know?”

She blinked innocently at him. She didn’t know.

“Mate.” The word made Harry cringe. “How do you mate?”

“Sirens mate with mermen. We only need them for children.”

“Okay, that’s...new…”

Harry would be glad to find out more, but this was definitely not the right time. He waved his hand, urging her to hurry up. Clumsily, the siren got to her feet. Harry didn’t intend to stay here while she changed, but since she could barely keep her balance, she had to hold onto his arms. He stood there, staring at the ceiling as the duvet dropped. She was completely naked in front of him now and so dangerously close. The voice inside his head was telling him not to peek. Fuck. Why did she have to be sexy?

“Do you...um...do you need help?” he asked as she seemed to be struggling with the bathrobe.

“No, thanks. I got it!” she said between ragged breaths, then, “Hey your tail is growing!”

Harry’s eyes dropped to the front of his boxers, his face heating at the sight of his erection. He gently pushed her back onto the bed and rushed to the bathroom.

“Where are you going?” she shouted after him. “I need to see it in its full form!”

“This is its full form!”

“It’s still small.”

“Shut up! It’s not!”

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Ezili felt bad for lying to this human.

Well, lying was the whole point of her mission, but he had been so nice to her when he found out she couldn’t return to the ocean. She blamed her new human heart for these emotions. Siren Ezili would never feel sorry for this ugly creature. No, wait, this one wasn’t ugly. The mermen were ugly. As much as she despised humans, she must admit that most of them were beautiful.

When this human wasn’t looking, Ezili would regard him with as much curiosity as he had regarded her in secret. The way his brown curls swept back messily. His defined jawlines. The deep dimples in his cheeks. The look of wonder in his eyes. He looked about her age, but his eyes were innocent, greener than seaweed.

She looked away as he caught her gawking. They were sitting at a small table on the floor. The room was darkly lit by the light in the corner. On the table was a mushy pile with little fire sticks on top.

“What is this?” Ezili asked, inspecting the object.

The human smiled at her, the firelight dancing in his leaf-green eyes as he said, “It’s a cake. We’re celebrating my birthday.”

“You told me not to play with fire.”

“We’re gonna put it out anyway.” He winked at her. “A little fire won’t hurt.” Ezili watched the human take out a little black thing and flick his thumb. Fire flared out, making Ezili flinch. “Relax,” he chuckled and the fire vanished. “This is called a lighter. It makes fire. This is a cake. These are candles.”

“What do we do with the cake?”

“We eat it.”

“You eat fire?”

The human laughed at Ezili’s distressed look. “No, silly. We blow out the candles, then eat the cake.”

“Oh,” she said, making him laugh harder. She found it disrespectful and annoying. Was this creature making fun of her? “What’s so funny?” she asked through gritted teeth.

The human stopped laughing, yet his dimples were still visible. “I can’t believe I’m celebrating my twenty-fourth with a siren,” he said.

“Who do you usually celebrate with?” Ezili asked.

“My friends or family,” the human said. “My friends were supposed to be here but their flight got cancelled due to bad weather.” The sadness in his eyes disappeared as he gave a dismissive wave and laughed. “Oh well, it’s not bad being alone. In fact, I’ve been alone my whole life.”

“That’s sad,” Ezili murmured, mesmerized by the candles.

“It’s not,” replied the human. “Some people live their whole life surrounded by others, and yet, they’re still lonely.”

As he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, smiled, and blew out the candles, Ezili sat there and pondered over his last words.

They didn’t eat the cake right away, because the humans said they ought to eat it after dinner. Apparently, humans ate three main meals a day—breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Sirens ate when they were hungry, so this was very new to Ezili. She picked up the small shiny thing that shaped like her mother’s trident and pushed around the foods on her plate. “What is this?”

“Fish,” the human said with a smile.

“Dead?”

“You expect me to eat alive fish?”

Ezili scowled at him. “That’s what we eat.”

“You’re human now. Try cooked fish.”

When she didn’t do anything but stare at the plate, the human nudged her hand with his knuckles. “Come on. If you don’t like it, I’ll get you the raw fish in the fridge.”

Ezili doubted that this imbecile creature would poison her with these colourful foods to get away with his responsibility, but at the same time, nothing was impossible.

However, she would probably faint if she didn’t eat. This dinner actually smelled good, and her stomach was rumbling because she hadn’t eaten since yesterday. And so she stabbed the fish’s burned flesh with her little trident, closed her eyes and put it into her mouth. It was soft, salty and a bit spicy, and...surprisingly delicious. She quickly took another bite, and another, and another.

“Wow, you’re really hungry, huh?” The human chuckled. “You like it?”

Ezili nodded fast, unable to answer because her mouth was full.

The human seemed satisfied. “Good. Means I’m a great cook.”

Ezili chewed fast and swallowed as the human began to eat. She tried to copy the way he held the little trident and the knife, and felt like she’d changed. Her mother would hate her so much for enjoying this. And Koa would make sure everyone in their kingdom knew and turn her into a laughing stock.

“Do you have any questions for me?” she said, breaking the silence, mostly to distract herself from thinking about the mission and her family.

The human thought for a second. “Hmmm, I have a bunch so I don’t know where to start.” Then, after a pause, “Why did your mum do this to you? Doesn’t she love you?”

Ezili wished she could stab him for bringing up the topic she’d been trying to avoid. Instead, she sucked in a breath. “She does. It’s just...the way sirens show love is different from humans. We teach our children to be strong from the moment they are born. Sirens live dependent on one another to survive, and so we always have to look out for one another. I guess that’s love for us. My mother is the Sea Queen. She’s very powerful, and so she has high hopes for my sister and I. My sister is better than me, though. I’ve always envied her.”

“Your sister is scary as hell,” the human remarked. “But if your mum is the Queen, you must be a princess.”

“Yeah.”

“Wow, so does that make me Prince Eric?”

“Your name is Eric?”

“No,” the human chuckled. “It’s a reference from The Little Mermaid. You should watch that film. You’d probably hate it though. Anyway, it’s so weird that we don’t know each other’s name. I’m Harry.” The human, well, Harry, put his hand across the table. Ezili didn’t know what to do with it so she just stared.

“I’m Ezili.”

Harry smiled, picked up her right hand and shook it. His hand was bigger than her and warm. She liked it.

“Cool name. Can I call you Ezi?”

Ezili instantly pulled her hand back. “No, you filthy creature. That’s not my name!”

“Ezi is short for Ezili.”

“What?”

Harry ignored the look of confusion she was giving him. “Or I could call you Bubbles. That’s a cute nickname.”

“Why Bubbles?”

“Because…” He tossed his head back and groaned. “Damn, woman, you gotta read the story, too. I can’t make these jokes if you don’t get the references.”

Ezili had so many questions. Just as she was about to ask, the black thing on the table lit up and started playing a song that startled Ezili.

“Sorry. My mum’s calling,” Harry said as he picked up the thing and swiped his fingers across it. “Right on time.”

“Is your mother trapped in that thing?” Ezili asked, clutching the hem of the shirt Harry had told her to wear. It was too big on her but she loved that it was comfortable and kept her warm.

“No, this is a phone,” Harry said, shaking the magical device with light coming out of it. “So my mum’s in London, and when she calls me on the phone, her voice gets transferred through it, and I can hear what she says.” He pushed himself up and told Ezili, “I’ll be right back.”

Once Harry was gone, Ezili sat there and tried her best to process all the new information. It was only her first night on land and she was already going through it. This mission was harder than she thought. Still, she had no choice but to continue. She must have that heart, and her mother would be so proud.

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When Harry woke up this time, he was on his private jet.

“Hey.”

He screamed, causing Ezi to fall back into her seat in front of him. He whipped his head around and saw that they were the only two people in this cabin. Before he could even come up with a question, Ezi got up, her hand resting on either side of his seat as she leaned forward, until her face was so close to his that he could smell the vanilla scent of the cake in her breath.

Her eyes sharpened at once. “I know you were trying to get rid of me.”

“No...I didn’t.”

“You did, Harry. You were going to leave me at your beach house. I heard you talking on the phone last night with someone else after talking to your mum. You mentioned a hotel room.”

Harry had booked a room for her on the phone last night. He should have done it on the website.

“But guess what?” A corner of her mouth lifted. “I might not have the ability to control tides anymore, but I still have my voice. And so I can control humans with it. I sang you to sleep last night. Then when your servants came to take you to this metal bird, I made him carry you to the magic black carriage and I came here with you. You think you’re one step ahead, you’re wrong. Try that again. I dare you.”

Harry swallowed hard. He could feel his palms sweating as he rubbed them against his thighs. “Okay, I’m sorry for that,” he said.  “But you can’t control people like that. If someone found out what you’re capable of...what you are...you’d be in big trouble.”

Ezi arched an eyebrow as she slowly backed away and stood straight with her arms across her chest. Thank God, Harry’s mother called just in time. He immediately got up and excused himself to answer the phone. He left a pouty Ezili in the cabin and went to the exit to talk to his mother.

“My precious boy, are you on the plane right now?”

“Yes, Mum,” Harry sighed.

“Good. I just need the name of your date for the seat arrangement.”

Harry stiffened for a second then quickly glanced over his shoulder to check if Ezi was eavesdropping. Fortunately, she was distracted by a magazine.

“Like now?” he asked his mum.

“Yes. Last night you told me you found one.”

Yes, Harry remembered that part, but he’d only said that so his mum would stop pestering him.

He took a deep breath. “Yeah, I did.”

“Her name?”

He hesitated before saying, “Ezili Hans.”

Hans as in Hans Christian Andersen. The writer of The Little Mermaid. If he had the energy to be happy, he’d give himself a pat on the back for the creativity.

“Great,” his mother said, sounding as if he’d just told her he was getting married. “I’m so excited to meet this girl.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, dear?”

“I-I said ‘Well, of course’,” Harry said and covered it up with a nervous laugh.

When he got off the phone with his mum, he felt a light tap on the shoulder and turned around to see Ezi. Shit, had she listened to–

“I promise I won’t use my singing voice to control you again,” she said, to his surprise. "Please. I cannot survive on my own." She twisted the hem of his band-tee uneasily. Even though she looked super cute in his t-shirt and joggers, she was still too underdressed for someone that was travelling on a private jet.

“Fine. You can stay,” he heard himself say while trying to imagine her with actual clothes that fit her.

Ezi’s blue eyes lit up, and the smile that rarely showed up on her face caught Harry off guard. He almost forgot what was happening.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “But we need to set up some rules.”

[harold231]

It wasn't real

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Posted: 04/30/2021

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: None? Maybe a lil angst just a lel bet.

A/N: I think it might be good? Idk You let me know. But like frfr, don't just give me feedback in your mind, put it into words. Also I apparently have a thing for Bucky in a dotted apron soooo yeah.

FYI: time zone/era is open for interpretation. Bucky never became an avenger/soldat and steve isn't part of this one.

The wind that blew around you was warm and sweet with the scent of freshly bloomed flowers. Perhaps it was an act of kindness from some God trying to distract you from the cold bitterness settling into your bones. Closing your eyes you conjure the very memory that left you so desolate.

The sun snuck it's way through the curtains to illuminate the room, effectively disturbing the sleep that you always seemed to be craving. Waking up is always hassle but whenever you remember that you get to spend your day with the only person who tolerates you and you him, getting out of bed is the easiest thing. Bucky is crazy and the damn boy is never in one spot for to long and he always has something to say, but you can't imagine how boring your days would be if you guys had never met. well technically if your parents had never met.

When you were a child you parents had to move to new york for business and they decided that Brooklyn was the place to be. You had been Bucky's neighbor and the first day you guys moved in his mom had dragged him over with the most delicious angel food cake that he so proudly claimed to have made mostly on his own. He just loved cooking and baking since forever, he would tell you that he just liked experimenting with foods but you knew the truth was that the boy liked to eat and didn't have the patience to wait for his mother to come home.

Only a few years after your family had moved to Brooklyn you and Bucky had already built an unbreakable bond. You guys had found a beautiful cherry tree one day when playing tag and had deemed it to be your's and Bucky's spot. Whenever you had a bad day or needed time away from the world you guys would go to the tree and just pick cherries, in the winter time you and Bucky would lay under the tree and kick the trunk so that the snow would fall from the leaves. It was the place where at only 15 years old bucky swore he would open his own Bakery and to quote him "I'm serving my ma's food my way doll, It's gonna be the next best thing to hit New York."

You were laying on the ground with your hands crossed behind your head looking up at Bucky swinging upside down from a branch when he told you all this. You felt something you had never felt before at that moment, looking up at the wild haired boy who loved to eat, loved his family, and had the most ambition you had ever heard from kids your age. Your heart felt full and your cheeks grew warm as you looked up at the same blue eyes you had know for years now, only this time you notice the way they twinkle in the sunlight and how rosy his lips are. Now 7 years laters you and Bucky were preparing to open the very bakery he promised you he'd open. Banners were beautifully strung along the walls and cute retro china was set out, ready to be filled for opening day. There was no hesitation from you when Bucky had asked you to run the bakery with him, you were excited to spend your days with the person you hoped you would spend the rest of your life with.

At around 6:30 in the morning you had arrived at the bakery but it seemed that Bucky had beat you to it. The smell of fresh angel food cake and cocoa danced up your nose as soon as you opened the door. Closing your eyes you smiled at the memories that it brought back. Moving to the back you grabbed your Disney themed apron and placed your bag and coat in its place before scurrying over to the kitchen while trying (and failing) to tie your apron. There in all his dorkiness was Bucky wiggling around to the chordettes. He knew that you loved the 50's aesthetic so he found a way to incorporate it without going overboard, by adding little trinkets, a jukebox, and even those cute little dining tables. In fact at the moment he was wearing a ruffly red polka dotted apron as he frosted some cupcakes.

Apron tied, you were finally ready to get to work. You walked up to Bucky bumping his hip as you reached for some cupcake pans, "Whatcha doin here so early Buck, we don't open until 12" he looks at you with squinted eyes, "The hell are you doing here so early." "Woah,woah,woah completely unprovoked. I'm just saying cuz' you were the one complaining about the opening time being set at 8. Like damn." Breathing out a huff of air he wipes his forehead with a towel "I'm sorry doll, I'm just super nervous and I couldn't sleep so I came to start baking things. I already frosted the ice cream cakes and I just finished the pies, but I was thinking that maybe we needed some cupcakes too, even though we already baked so many pastries and stuff last night I'm worried it won't be enough."

Setting down the trays you move to hug Bucky from behind holding him close to you. "Buck I know we'll do great your food is too good to pass up on especially when it's free." You place a soft kiss to his shoulder " I promise you'll do great, everything you do is amazing you try your hardest at everything Buck, You've worked your butt off and made mine considerably larger to get here, don't start losing your mind on me now." A cute little laugh from Bucky lets you know that he's hearing you and he isn't so stressed anymore. "I just want this to be perfect ya know?" with your head still against his back you nod, "I just want it to be a special day for my special girl."

You couldn't stop the slight blush that rose to your cheeks or the way that your heart suddenly started beating three times faster. You had also wanted to make him something special which is why you had got here so early. Finally releasing your hold on Bucky you straighten your apron out before gathering everything you need for some red velvet cupcakes. Bucky loved your red velvet cake so you loved making it for him. After hours of mixing, baking, and frosting had passed, you guys were rewarded with a bakery that looked as great as it smelled. "Alright doll, I'm heading out, I gotta go get ready. Meet you back here at 12 , Love ya." He didn't even give you a chance to answer as he ran right out the door. "Love you too."

You had stayed behind just a little while longer as you perfected your secret project. Carefully you added snowflakes to some of the cupcakes because you knew how much he loved snow even if he hated winter, some cats, flowers that reminded you of bucky, and one extra special cupcake. When you finish you decide to clean up a bit more and prepare some drinks for later before heading home to get ready. As soon as you got home you took a shower and did the simplest of make up with a light pink lip. You had decided to wear a dress to match the blossoming flowers that spring had brought. Pink with a yellow lace trim and flowers embroided all over the dress, matching it with some yellow flats.

You had decided that it was a perfect day for a walk so you grabbed a light scarf and slung it over your shoulders, grabbed Bucky's cupcakes, and headed over to the bakery. You felt as if a Hundred pounds had been lifted from your shoulders knowing that Bucky had felt the same way about you. You had decided that you would tell him today with your special cupcakes. As you rounded the corner you felt giddy and you couldn't wipe the smile from your face no matter how hard you tried. As you reached the bakery you saw that a majority of the people had already arrived and you knew that it would put Bucky at ease to see all the people enjoying his food. You stopped at the window, closing your eyes to take a deep breath to prepare yourself to join the celebration.

Opening your eyes you reached for the handle only to stop at the sight on the other side of the door. Bucky stood there arms wrapped around a woman eyes locked on hers as he leaned in for a kiss. It must have all happened in about 30 seconds but it felt as if time himself had slowed it down for you to watch the way he tilted her head and ran his tongue along her bottom lip before finally uniting their lips. Your heart dropped as quickly as your smile did and suddenly you felt so stupid for thinking this could be real. You willed yourself not to cry as you allowed your legs to carry you anywhere but there.

That's how you found yourself sitting underneath a blossoming cherry tree. A tree that held only happy memories because it wasn't a place you could be sad... back then. With your back against the tree and box of cupcakes full of unrequited love in your lap you realize how much you over romanticized Bucky. Opening the box you decide it would be a shame to let them go to waste. The first one you grab has a big red heart frosted in the middle, you let out a deep sigh before breaking the cupcake right down the middle. You shove half of the cupcake into your mouth and only then do you allow the tears to fall. You sat there for hours crying eating cupcakes, watching the sunset, and thinking about everything that Bucky did for you, as a friend. You realize you had no right to be angry at Bucky, after all you never told him how you felt you just assumed that he would feel the same way after so many years. With every broken memory another cupcake vanished.

He was always there for you, when no one wanted to come to your slumber party Bucky did and he even did all the girly things with you. Painting your nails, doing your hair, watching chick flicks, and pillow fights. once he even asserted that no one could protect you as well as he could, when you had decided to go camping with your friend from class so he insisted on taking you himself. Your friend was most noticeably gay so you had assumed he wanted to spend time alone with you. But now that you think back on those memories these are things that anyone would do for their bestfriend. And that's what you realized 8 hours and 11 cupcakes later.

The moon floated above you and as it's white rays settled upon the lake you decided it might be time to go home now. You get up and dust your dress off before leaning down to grab the mostly empty box. Turning around you are stopped again by what's in front of you. Bucky stands there brows furrowed as his eyes flash from you to the box in your hands. "Where the hell have you been, I've been calling you all day." swallowing the lump in your throat you go to answer but are interrupted. " everyone's been asking me about you all night and I had no damn idea what to tell them, but apparently you were just out here being inconsiderate. You go and tell me I can do great tonight, that you'd be there for me, but you weren't." You try to answer him but are again interrupted. "You could have told me something earlier instead of leaving me there like a dumb-" "SHUT UP!" this time it was your turn to interrupt him.

Taking a deep breath you look into his eyes before explaining. "Of course I was ready to be there today, you think I wore this dress to sit under a damn tree? Well I didn't. When I left my apartment I was ready and I was excited, so excited. I couldn't even stop smiling on my way over, but then I got to the shop and I saw-" Immediately you stopped as you realized what you were about to say. He cocked an eyebrow and shook his head slightly as if to say 'Hello?' "You saw what? What did you see that would make you abandon ship just like that?" Shame flushed through your being and you could no longer keep eye contact. "Nothing, you know what, it doesn't even matter. I'm sorry I was being dramatic I should have been an adult and dealt with it on my own time. And I'm sorry I abandoned you all, but the night was about you anyways."

"The night was supposed to be about the both of us so it does matter if you saw something that made you want to leave. Just tell me doll, what did you see?" his voice is soft as he pleads with you. "I saw... well I saw you kissing that lady and I just wanted get away and ended up here okay!?" You said it all in a jumble hoping that he wouldn't be able to understand what you had said. But luck wasn't your friend so of course he did. "So seeing me kiss another person was so gross to you that you had to run away, what the hell? are you 13 again?" You hadn't admitted it outloud yet and it seemed that the dumbass in front of you was going to force it out of you.

Stepping around Bucky you pull your scarf tight around your body as you focus on not crying anymore until you get home. You distract yourself by thinking of all the love you saw in all the little things Bucky did for you. Dancing around the newly furnished bakery body against body as frank sinatra brought you heart to heart, watching rom-coms and ugly crying together, but by the time you get home you force yourself to face the ugly truth. The Love was always in your head. It wasn't real.

A new wave of tears blurred your vision as teardrops fell perfectly to the ground. "It's because I have feelings for you Bucky, and I now know you don't feel the same way." Sniffling you don't bother looking up because your heart is to broken for that right now. "I'm Just gonna need a little bit of time and I'll be back good as new like nothing even happened." Still unable to lift your gaze from the ground you decide to focus on the last cupcake left in the box. 'I Love You' is written in tiny light blue frosting letters. "I uhm, uhh." That brought your attention to Bucky, as embarrassment pulsed as strong as ever through your veins. " You don't have to say anything Buck, It's fine, I'll see you next week, on monday" you hand him the box as you go to pass him "I think you would have a better use for this than me I ate 11 others already so."

Divider credits: @firefly-graphics

[kyn-lyn-blog]

Race for the Crown

Okay so this is going to be a story about my interpretations of Jude and Cardans kids. This is not really about them but they are obviously in it. I will put the list of their kids here just so everyone can get an idea that this is a long project! FYI the last three children are triplets and with them being so young they won’t be involved like the rest but maybe in the future I might write something (a little blurb on them as they are older!

Jurdan Kids:

Ben / Ezren (horns)/ Liriel (Bee wings/controls bees) / Aimon (tail) / Elluin (snake skin patches/forked toungs) / Cohlan (tails and claws) / Lixiss / Finnea (butterfly wings) / Finneus (moth wings) / Echo / Echibod / Echian 

words: 3025 

The intro basically explains the plot but i will say this: It is about the Greenbrier/Duarte children’s fight to the crown and their struggles, strengths and ambition 

I do not typically post fics or stories but I am hoping to start, All questions, feedback, and statements are welcomed 

There were twelve children, nine chances, eight competitors, three who cared too much, three who weren’t sure, and one who did not want it all. All fighting for the throne and crown. The current King and Queen grew tired of ruling, and many thought choosing an heir would be no problem with all the children they had and yet, though the numbers where high, problems came with every one of them. The only children who were for sure out of the running were the triplets, the youngest who were barley three. Every child had a story and something keeping them from the crown from the oldest to the youngest and none of them seem to have shown what it takes to have the crown. In the end it was decided that all children must be watched closely and deliberately in order to make the best decision. Oldest to youngest every child fought, unknowingly, for the power of the land.

BEN

Ben’s story was the strangest to the people of the land. Some did not even feel he should be considered for the throne due to him not being blood. Ben was abandoned as a child by his father and the queen took him in secretly, having been friends with the child’s father. She took him in at 7 years old and he instantly loved her more than his own family. She showed him love and kindness, while being firm and fair. She did not have a child of her own, so she was often hesitant to officially call him hers, but after the king heard news of the boy, he was elated to help his wife raise the child. The King gave the boy and the Queen the push to officially create and start their family even if the child was not either of their blood. The Boy grew into a man and a charming one at that. With his birth father being a sorcerer, he was able to perform magic the land had never seen. He treated the other siblings as his own even if some did not see him in the same light. He did his responsibilities with ease and poise.

As he grew into a man and a noble, the land became split when rumors of his crowning came to surface. Half the land saw him as the perfect contender for the role of king. He was good to the people but firm in his beliefs of what is best for the land. He dished out judgement in a way that seemed regal and fair, even when he was sentencing someone to death, there was an air of calm finality around him and his subjects. He stood tall, his sandy gold hair standing out against the dark of his siblings, and his face showed no cruelty, but he looked as if he was made to be a king, instead of an abandoned child taken into a new world. The term golden boy seemed coined just for him.

However, there were others, the countering half of the land that fell into the arms of tradition. Him not being related in blood seemed to create a bigger problem than expected. People felt he couldn’t rule a land he wasn’t born in or born to understand. The cursed his name whenever people even mentioned his status to the throne. These objectors weren’t silent either, they loudly jeered and scorned him with distaste. When his name was called at revelry’s and royal events underneath the cheers and praise were the boo’s and hateful jabs. He took them with a smile. He was approachable and while some saw that as a sign of good fortune for the land others saw it as disrespectful and the acts of a common man instead of a king. For yes there was a no, for every good dead there was a twisted scandal behind. Prince Ben could not breath without someone begging for his fortune and attention or trying to trap him into a wrong word or step. When he started to notice the small seeds of him being king start to get planted by the council he started to panic. He knew many would never accept him as king, and if half the land won’t accept him how was he supposed to rule with a knife at his neck at every turn. He decided to take matters into his own hands the day he found out the whispers were growing into assumptions.

Ben knew he would do whatever is best for the people, but he had to keep himself alive and in the land’s good favors in order to do so. He had to step away from the throne for awhile but in a way that wouldn’t make him look like a cowered or as if he was running away. He prepared for the party that was going on that night with shaking hands. He decided to dress in lavish gold and baby blues, With a swirling patterns of the colors on his vest with a white frilly shirt underneath and breeches to match. He wore golden boots that reached just underneath his knees and a gold cape held to his right side with a lion head brooch that had diamond eyes to match the teeth of its roar. He placed the silver ring of a crown on his head indicating his title of prince. The royal family would wear their weapon of choice to these events as an accessory, but since he relied on magic as his weapon he settled on a pair of gold gloves that had diamonds accentuating his fingertips where his nails would be seen. He made sure his hair stood up above his crown, his signature quieff hairstyle on display, the golden strands slicked up and shining. As he looked at his work in the mirror, he couldn’t help but frown. He liked what he saw he just didn’t like how much he looked a king waiting to accept his crown. He had a split second where he considered changing into something less but voted against it. He had already made himself up he wasn’t going back on that now.

The merriment of the party was in full swing as he entered, his name and horns blaring in his ear upon announcement.

“I present to you” The royal guard announced while giving him a wink, she had once set him up with her daughter and still held hope he would find some interest once again, Ben knew he wouldn’t but smiled at her anyway, “Prince Ben, Oldest of the high queen and king, Prince of the court of Mystics , runner up to the throne” Ben cringed deeply at her last statement, those kinds of titles and statement were only spoken by those who have already pledged their loyalty, and he was sure she would be disappointed once he made his announcement and proposal to his mother and father, the king and queen. He heard whispers and saw glares and adoring eyes. He saw the ears of his siblings raise, their noses twitches and their eyes look at him in accusation. They would disregard him soon enough. He kept his head high and smile easy as he sauntered over to the golden dais that held his family. As he walked, he could feel everyone’s gaze it didn’t matter that he came later than the others. The way he was dressed, the way he walked, and his demeanor all suggested he was on time and that everyone else was just early for his arrival. He stepped up to his mother and kissed her cheek lightly. He turned to his father and gave him a fist bump (which Ben had started doing after one of his visits to the mortal world). He took his spot closest to the throne next to his brother Ezren who did very little to hide the distaste from his curled lip.

 “That was quite the introduction” Ben did not even bother to look over to his sister Liriel, she never liked being outdone or outshined and Ben was certain she did not like his name being followed up with ‘runner up’ when it came to the throne. She wanted the choice to be unanimous when it came to who should be crowned and she wanted the unanimous decision to be her. She had always considered Ben beneath her. It did not matter, however. Soon enough she’d be one step closer to the crown. As final announcements and introductions of other courts were finished the king and queen began to greet subjects who felt their problems were big enough to bring to the throne. The princes and princesses began to depart and get lost in the crowd of guests and nobles. Ben could handle his drink, he was, after all, no mere mortal but one with great power and lineage, even if that lineage left him to die. Still some tried to get him eat strange drinks and powders and fruit that should make him loose his mind. Ben never minded, he became used to the folk underestimating him, it was how he preferred it so he would often eat it anyway and just pretend to be mad with happiness and giddy joy. This made his nights more interesting and more of a time to collect secrets rather than a time for parties, however tonight he kept his lips and tongue clean. His siblings all had fun with their groups and newfound strangers. All except Ezren. Always so serious. He kept his eyes on Ben a jealous fire in his eyes as ben kissed hands, twirled maidens and laughed with nobles. Ben had always told Ezren he’d be more favorable for the crown if he spent more of his time with the people rather than watching his siblings every move. But Ezren didn’t trust any of them except Liriel. So, he sat and watched ready to intercept at any time his siblings make a fool of themselves. Ben never truly cared however, he could hold his own and then some.

As the party died down, and that means people were beginning to fall over drunk and delusional, Ben made his way to the dais where his parents sat whispering and laughing to each other. His dad’s tail flicked back and forth for a bit then came to wrap around his mother’s wrist. Ben knew what that meant, when his father’s rail started wrap around his mothers limbs, either he was nervous for her or he was getting ready to bed her and from the look on his face Benn had a good idea it was the latter. He rushed to the top before their thrones and both the king and queen looked up in surprise at his sudden rush towards them.

“Mother, Father” he gave a short bow with each greeting.

“Ben, what is this, is something wrong, shouldn’t you be enjoying the revilers?” That was his father’s code for ‘Unless someone is dying you better make this quick’ and not in a ‘I can’t be bothered way’ but a ‘I’m gonna fuck your mom so make this quick’ sort of way.

“Yes, everything is fine but I wanted to make an announcement, a proposal of sorts, to the two of you and I feel everyone should hear too” His mother side eyed him, unsure if his plans. It was no secret Ben loved Jude the most since he was young. When he was seven and first came into her care, he’d sing her name at night and cry when she had to leave for royal duties and no nanny could console him until her return. His mother knew him better than anyone and he told her everything, everything except his plans for tonight. It made since she was suspicious, since that has always been her nature anyway.

“Does it have to be right now-“Jude elbowed cardan interrupting him.

“Of course you can give your…announcement” His mother trusted him, she just didn’t like not knowing what he was planning. Ben smiled at them and his father gave a slight eyeroll as he kicked his legs up on the side of his throne and waved his hand as a gesture saying ‘get on with it’. Ben took a step down from the dais so that he was in between steps. He turned to the crowd and spread his hands gaining the attention of few but not nearly all.

“High courts, gentry, royals and friends!” he shouted merriment laced in his voice. “I, Prince Ben, Oldest son of the High King and Queen” he looked at Ezren as he spoke those words, smirked then looked back at the crowd “Have an announcement, a proclamation for my parents and the high court,” He turned towards the thrones where the king and queen sat, but his voice resonated as if he was speaking to every single person in the room individually. “Mother, Father, all of Fae knows of the rumors of your choosing for the throne, I am not here to throw my hat in the ring, as the mortals say, but to instead withdraw myself from the line” Gasps fill the room and cries and uproars, he feels someone might have even fainted. “Instead I ask you give me another role, a new role, title, that I have made for myself. I wish to travel the lands of Fae, sea, mortal lands, and the unknown in search of allies, magic, emptied lands, treasures and advances. I wish to not own the crown but help it thrive and advance. I swear my service to it and my loyalty.” By the end of his proposal he is down on one knee head bent to the ground. He raises his eyes and sees his mother is shocked but hiding it with a steady look. His father has a smirk and looks as if he trying to keep from laughing meaning he either sees this as some joke or is nervous about what his son’s statements mean. Ben always had a feeling His mother saw him as one of the main royals reaching for the throne and probably assumed that that was what Ben had wanted. Ben just hoped she wasn’t upset with his decision.  The room was silent awaiting The High King and High Queen’s reaction.

His father broke the silence with a laugh “Blood or not you definitely got the dramatics of this family, here we thought you were about to announce some coup or something, pull a Balekin part two!”

“I didn’t think that” His mother said with a smirk, low enough only Ben and Cardan could hear. Cardan whispered something to his queen as Ben stayed on one knee. He saw from the top of his vision Jude give a curt nod, and His father stood up.

“My son,” he said with a sigh “Your proposal sounds…exactly and perfectly fit for you” Ben stood up as an uproar went up filled with cheers and surprised shouts. He looked over and saw the head of the guard look at him with betrayal on her face. Seems she realized she backed the wrong prince. “However,” The High King continued “I don’t know where all this talk of crowning a new ruler came from, but perhaps…” Cardan turned to look at Jude then back at the crowd “It might be time to consider and keep watch of who that will one day be, and keep in mind Ben, just because you want withdrawal now doesn’t mean you can’t come back to reconsider before it’s too late” Ben could feel the eyes of all his siblings even the ones who care far less about these ordeals. Ben had just moved a piece in an eight-player game of chess, the piece that not only started the game but caught the attention of the other players. It didn’t matter to Ben; he was taking himself out of the game enough to still come back a hero if he really wanted to, and according to his father, still a chance to come back as king if he ever changed his mind. Ben had all the freedom to do what he wanted, and none of the others could do the same without looking like followers to him, and they all knew it. None of them could pull off what he put in motion, now that it was already done. Ben turned to his father.

“Thank you, I will remember your words as I begin and endure my travels, but for now I plan to enjoy my first night with my new title and status and worry about the details tomorrow”. The high king smiled and nodded, then step back to his wife. Ben turned to his mother and her eyes questioned him while her lips pulled into a smirk. She rose from her throne and stood in front of him and gave him a seemingly innocent hug, but Ben knew better when she pulled him down to whisper in his ear.

“For once I don’t know what you’re planning, but remember this, the throne, this new title, your siblings’ ambition, are nothing to play around with, you’ve always been smart Ben don’t let this battle change that.” She pulled away and looked into his eyes, probably hoping to find some genuine emotion there in them.

“Don’t worry about me mother” he kissed her cheek “I know my place” with that he stepped down from the dais into the crowd with his head high and gold cape flowing behind him, yes, no one could deny he looked like a king that night, the same night he seemingly gave up the throne. Ezren watched from afar eyes secretly filled with unnerving satisfaction. Ben ignored him and the questions of the nobles that approached him and grabbed a drink he knew was supposed to make him crazy with faiery lust, he downed it feeling nothing. He was never the trickster type but he did have his secrets, secrets he would take with him on his upcoming travels, secrets that would only be reveled upon his inevitable return.