#were over there mad. they refused the shoes I was wearing despite burning their feet because they were so pissed off id asked for their help

[lesbianworlock]

Didn’t get any sleep last night because I had a migraine and I was still awake when my wife got up for work, which is fine. Except they lost their wallet and I was trying to help look and offering suggestions to where it may be even though my head hurts so horribly bad and they just kept getting more frustrated, because they couldn’t find it, not with me, and being mean and now I’m upset

Like bro I haven’t slept all night after an eight hour shift and I’m in severe pain can you please be nice to me for five seconds while I’m trying to help you

[hoedorokishoto]

Trust - Part 2

Shoto Todoroki x Reader 

warnings - explicit sex, swearing 

previous | part | next

Todoroki had gotten taller since the last time I had been this close to him. His body also filling out and getting stronger from all the training. Changes that weren't noticeable until I was inches away from him, measuring his body for any new costume changes that might be required. From watching the training exercise I had concluded that putting a mesh suit under his current costume was the best course of action. One that was highly resistant to both hot and cold, to decrease the number of small burns and frostbite he seemed to get from using his quirk at high outputs. The same mesh being impenetrable and good if a villain ever decided to stab the future pro.

"Shinso said you are very good, and that I'm in good hands." Todoroki said, looking down at me as I continued to take his measurements.

"Were you worried beforehand?" I asked, quirking my eyebrow, and standing up. His dual-coloured eyes continued to burn holes in my back wherever I walked around the workshop.

"Is there a reason you keep staring at me?" I asked softly, not mad but uncomfortable with the constant attention.

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable; I just like watching you work."

"I'm excited to see what you come up with."

Todoroki looked the part of being cool and confident but sometimes the way he spoke reminded me of what an awkward little bean he could truly be. Hitoshi stating that his social skills could still use a little work.

"Well, I'm glad you are excited. I think I could make a lot of cool improvements."

It wasn't a lie, I was excited. Any opportunity to further my career as Hero Support or be in the workshop creating new inventions was always a plus to me. It was the Hero in front of me that I had reservations about. Being with new people who I didn't really know wasn't my idea of fun. Neither was small talk. At least we had that in common, both of our silences falling over us like a heavy blanket, and it seemed that neither of us knew how to escape it.

"Are you-."

"You shou-."

You both said at the same time, looking at each other. A smile crept onto my face as Shoto's cheeks darkened with a small blush. Shoto looked down at his feet, his two-toned hair coming down to fall over his eyes.

"You were saying?" I asked, stepping closer to Todoroki, and looking up into his eyes, trying to keep him flustered, finding his awkwardness cute and endearing. He didn't step back, sizing me up.

We were so close I could feel the heat coming off his body, the proximity causing goosebumps to spread down my arms.

"I was saying you should have seen my first hero suit; it was really bad. Or as Ashido says tragic." Todoroki said, his voice low, his face still so close I could feel his breath. Todoroki was handsome, I would have to be blind to deny it. His features were sharp and prominent, his half and half colouring only adding to his air of mystery. I wanted to test the waters; see exactly how far I could push him.

"I have a feeling you could wear a sheet and still look good." I stated. Dropping back down in front of him and measuring his inseam.

"You think so?" Todoroki asked a smirk plastered across his face as he looked down at me.

"If I wanted to see you naked I think I know just how I could make that happen." I said.

Despite my brave statement I still blushed as he looked down at me still, his eyes never leaving mine.

"I bet you haven't seen anything like this." He answered quickly, leaving my mind racing. The position we were in doing nothing to help me try to get a handle on the situation.

"Are you trying to fluster me?" Todoroki asked, leaning down and putting his fingers under my chin, guiding me back up to stand with him.

"Is it working?" I asked, a similar smirk falling across my face. Leaning into his touch, his left hand warm on my skin.

"Maybe..." Is all he said, stepping off the platform and turning towards the door, picking up his bag and school uniform jacket as he went.

"Same time tomorrow?" He asked, turning around one more time to look at me, my eyes wide, trying to comprehend the situation. I didn't speak, just nodded my head in his direction and spun around. Heading to the workbench to write down all the measurements I took while it was fresh in my mind. I wanted my mind to be anywhere but thoughts of Todoroki and whatever had just happened.

                                                               *

The regular noise of the 3H dorm filled my ears as we all sat down for dinner, various pots of stew and bowls of rice steaming, spread out across the table. The day had ended like any other, covered in grease and staying in the workshop at least an hour later than you intended to only coming back to the dorm when one of the teachers turned off the lights and refused to put them back on.

"Todoroki huh, that's cool. He has a really cool quirk and you're a genius so it's like a match made in Heaven." Mei stated, her hair sticking up behind her goggles and her skin looking just as grease-stained as mine.

I just nodded, scooping rice into my mouth to avoid any real conversation, wanting to be showered and in bed as soon as possible. The exchange between Todoroki and I was still fresh in my mind even now. The intensity of his dual-coloured eyes burnt into my brain.

"Y/N lost for words? I never thought I'd see the day."

"I'm not lost for words; I just don't have anything to say..."

"So you are lost for words?" Mei laughed, swinging her arm around my shoulder, and hugging me close. I was grateful that I had found her, other than Hitoshi she was my first real friend, bonding over our love of machinery and design. She was quick to call me out on my bullshit when I needed it and quick to be a shoulder to cry on. On top of that she was a genius who always had insight into whatever project I was working on, helping, and lending advice whenever necessary. If you looked up mum friend in the dictionary she was it. If your mum stayed up all night, had big boobs, ran on coffee and had a steam punk obsession.

Ding

Sen – Hey, how was your day? You busy tonight?

Even the way he typed was perfect, down to the last comma. I wished that Sen could be anything other than someone I fucked around with but the feelings one should have just weren't there. I often wondered if I was keeping him from someone, someone who could return his feelings. Someone who deserved to receive nicely punctuated text messages over dinner wondering about how their day was.

Y/N – Your room or mine?

                                                             *

His grip on my waist was so hard I thought it might bruise, but that was an afterthought as I felt Sen thrust up into me, filling me up and hitting the spot inside me that caused a knot to grow in my stomach, a sign of my impending orgasm.

I looked down at him, his eyes closed as his head was thrown back, his face was cute in this situation. Different from the handsome angular face he usually wore. His brown hair was stuck to his temples, our bodies sweaty from the activities we were currently partaking in.

"You feel so good." Sen moaned out, his mouth starting to kiss up my neck, his handing snaking around and holding the back of my head and neck. Holding me somewhat steady as I continued to ride him.

We both picked up the pace, chasing our orgasms as the sound of skin on skin rang out throughout the room. He kissed me, hard. All teeth and tongues. Both of us coming together with a loud moan. I slumped into him, his arms circling around me pulling me closer as we both caught our breath. I wished I hated him, I wished I didn't care about his feelings. He was comforting, it was times like this that I really wished I could like him how he wanted me to. How he deserved.

I rolled off him, planting my feet on the ground, walking around the room looking for my clothes that had been thrown around the room. I heard Sen shuffle behind me, taking off the condom, tying it off, and throwing it in the trash can by the door.

He came up behind me, I could feel his presence looming over me like a ghost. He reached out and touched my side as I pulled my jeans back up and clipped my bra up.

"You don't have to go." Sen said quietly, almost a whisper. There it was, the words that had the power to cleave my heart in two. Not for my sake but for his, at every turn I was reminded how bad of a person I was, I reminded myself that no matter how nice people were to you or how good it felt when they were inside you, nothing ever really lasted, and the people who claimed to care the most were always the first ones to leave. Why couldn't Sen see that?  Romantic relationships were a distraction which I didn't want to get myself involved in and neither should he.

I turned and took the shirt from him that he held out, slipping it over my head. Collecting the last of my things like my phone and shoes and stopped in front of him once again.

"I'll text you later." I said softly, stepping up onto my tiptoes and kissing his cheek. Not looking back as I left his dorm and made my way to the elevator. Praying that all his classmates and Mr. Vlad were asleep.

I made it out of the 3B dorms without any fuss, no hero students, or pro heroes in sight. Thank God. The night air was cool and made the walk back to my dorm quite pleasant, I wasn't in a rush, taking in everything around me. The students jogging around the grounds and the dorms that were lit up with life. The 1st years loudly yelling and laughing, no doubt getting used to dorm life.

I came to a stop outside the 3A dorm, contemplating visiting Hitoshi knowing that regardless of the time he would be up and if he weren't he would wake up for me. I wanted to talk to him, but I also didn't want another weird almost lecture like he gave me the other day. It was hard to talk to people who knew me better than I knew myself sometimes because there was never any hiding. There wasn't anything that I could hide from Hitoshi, even if I tried.

Just as I was about to move on the large doors of the dorm swung open, a very pissed Todoroki stepping out, being followed by an equally as pissed Momo Yaoyorozu. Without thinking I ducked behind the nearest bush and hid. Not meaning to spy on their conversation but also not wanting to look like a creep who snuck around other people's dorms at night.

"I honestly don't know why you are being like this Shoto. Just get over it and we can go back to how everything was." Yaoyorozu said in the distance.

"It was almost 2 years ago; I don't want to do anything with you. Even if I did want any form of relationship with you I definitely wouldn't want it to be like how it was back then." Todoroki replied.

Both of their voices distant, further enough away from the dorm so their classmates wouldn't hear but not close enough to me that I could hear all their conversation.

"That's a bit harsh. We should be together. Both of our fathers think it's a good idea."

"When have I ever given a fuck what my father thinks?"

"Shoto, don't be vulgar. You have been hanging out with Bakugo for too long. He has started to rub off on you."

"I don't want to have this conversation with you anymore Yaomomo, I've said what I had to say, it's you that keeps bringing it up. I won't be getting back together with you, I won't be sleeping with you anymore and I won't even consider it just because our stuck-up scum bag fathers think it's right!" Shoto yelled loudly, there was no doubt that everyone in the vicinity had heard.

Yaoyorozu stomped her foot and pouted, turning on her heels and walking away.

"Well, I still have your cashmere sweater! I'm keeping it!" She shouted over her shoulder.

"Yeah well I still have your virginity, so I guess you win some you lose some." Shoto said back, causing Momo to huff and walk back towards the large doors. I chuckled at his statement, this Shoto vastly different from 1st year Shoto, different again from the Shoto that was in your workshop earlier today.

Yaoyorozu didn't look back as she entered the dorm, leaving Shoto Todoroki standing in the moonlight, looking even more ethereal than usual. If it were even possible.

And me, standing in a bush looking like a creep.

[stevie-wicks]

red, black and blue

She’d taken the photo in some empty parking lot in downtown LA, sunlight two years younger glinting off the hood of the Camaro. Billy’s moustache was still a couple of stray gold whiskers on his upper lip; his hair just past the tips of his unpierced ears. A different Billy to the one Hawkins had seen, but post-California Billy hadn’t had much time for Max’s amateur attempts at photography. Or for Max, in general.

“It’s a good photo.”

Jonathan Byers was not a formal wear kind of guy. He looked stiff and uncomfortable in his ugly suit- or maybe that was just an extension of how he was feeling. How they all were.

Max wrapped her hands around her elbows, suddenly regretting resisting her mother’s attempts to usher her into a jacket. “Thanks. I know he looks- different.”

Jonathan looked for a moment like he might offer her his ugly coat; then he probably remembered the uglier shirt he wore underneath. “He looks happier.”

“He was.” Max dug her nails into her skin. “He hated it here.”

Jonathan shoved his hands into his pockets. “Listen, Max; I know it’s not- it’s not really the same, but when I- when I thought Will was gone, I-” He swallowed. “Will is my best friend. I know that sounds really lame, but I just thought that. Maybe you’d feel better, or, I dunno. I know what it’s like.”

He was trying so hard. Max almost felt bad for him. “I don’t think you do.”

She’d wanted to sit next to Lucas, but her mom hadn’t. Some murmured nonsense about Neil not liking it; some louder nonsense about how they were a family and that now, more than ever, they had to stay together.

El became the compromise.

Not that Neil was gung-ho about El, either; not with the oversized flannel and suspenders she’d refused to change out of. Light blue eyes bore a hole into the side of Max’s head as she shuffled into the pew next to El. They weren’t the same shade of blue as Billy’s; he’d had more green to his, more like Max’s own. Neil’s were like ice chips.

A bony hand reached over, and Max looked up at Joyce Byers’s warm brown instead. “I’m sorry, sweetie,” she whispered.

Stupidly, Max said, “He owed you a plate.”

El stirred. “I owe him my life,” she said quietly.

The last funeral Max had been to had been for some distant Mayfield relative. She’d been six and she’d cried all the way to Glendale because she was missing Jabberjaw. Then Dad bought her an ice cream and she’d forgotten all about Jabberjaw. She fell asleep halfway through the service, and they got home in time for Speed Buggy.

Billy’s service took half as long and felt an eternity longer.

Mom had offered to do a eulogy. She’d brought it up over breakfast, nervous eyes darting between Max and Neil, as if either of them would put up a fight. She tottered to her feet now, shuffling awkwardly to the front, in a dress a few laundry cycles short of being grey. For a fleeting moment, Max wished she had put up a fight. Billy would’ve died-

Max bit her cheek hard enough to taste copper.

Mom cleared her throat. “Billy and I didn’t know each other for very long, but I wish we had. He was a wonderful young man.” She dabbed at her eyes with a ratty handkerchief.

Max sank back into her seat. Maybe it was for the best; she could never lie about Billy the way her mom did. Not when all she could think of was the blood- God, so much blood, his blood- his last scream torn out of his chest by misshapen claws- apologies on a dying breath-

She stood up. Mom paused midway between some crap about Billy’s ‘respect and responsibility’.

“Maxine,” Mom said, mortified.

“I have to go.” She tore outside, knuckling her burning eyes.

The breeze nipped at her skin. She leaned against the wall, rubbing her hands up her arms. It was mid-July, for Pete’s sake.

She should’ve worn the stupid jacket.

She wiped at her face roughly. When her vision cleared, Lucas stood in front of her.

“Your mom’s done talking, if you wanna head back inside.” He kicked at a pebble.

Max kicked it back. It skittered away, just out of Lucas’s reach. “Not really.”

He squared his shoulders. “Mind if I join you, then?”

She shrugged. He hesitated for a moment before sidling up next to her, arms barely brushing.

“Steve’s giving his speech now.”

Max’s eyebrows reached her scalp.

“For the basketball team,” Lucas clarified, then added, a little awkwardly, “None of the other guys showed up.”

It shouldn’t hurt, but. “Yeah, well. Didn’t think Steve would, either. He hated Billy’s guts.” She dug her heels into the gravel. “You all did.”

Lucas fell quiet. “I didn’t hate him.”

Max snorted. “’Cause you’re not supposed to hold grudges over people who are-” She blinked back a fresh wave of tears. God, Maxine; you’re such a goddamn girl, Billy would’ve said. “You should. He was awful to you.”

“I didn’t hate him,” he repeated. “I mean, he scared the shit out of me, sure. But still. He was your brother.”

“That’s not an excuse. And he was my step-”

“He was your brother.” Lucas had turned on his side, fully facing her now. “And I know you lo- cared about him. And I’m trying to tell you that it’s okay to cry.”

Her eyes welled with tears. She hadn’t allowed herself to; not since Starcourt, not since she’d read the twenty-eight other names in the paper, not since she’d come home in an ambulance and her brother in a casket and Neil locked up Billy’s room and tore down everything else that had belonged to his son and threw it all in the trash like he’d been waiting to get rid of it-

Lucas held out an arm. Max buried her face in his chest, clutching the fabric of his shirt and turning it translucent with her tears.

She cried long enough for her tear ducts to run dry, and then stood sniffling into the wet shirt. She was probably making it all gross with her snot, but she didn’t let herself get too torn up about it. The Sinclairs could afford a washing machine.

“Maxine.”

Max went rigid. Lucas, unbothered and oblivious, kept his arms around her. “Hey, Mr. Hargrove.”

She turned around slowly, just in time to catch the flicker of revulsion that passed over Neil’s face. “And who are you, boy?”

There was a painful pause. Max’s nails carved crescents into her palms.

“Lucas Sinclair, sir,” Lucas said at last.

Neil’s eyes were glacial. Max barely suppressed a shiver when they trained on her. “Maxine; something you learn when you grow older that there are a certain type of people in this world that you stay away from. And this boy?” Neil cut his gaze to Lucas. “This boy is one of them.”

Max reeled back. “I-”

“You stay away from my daughter, Sinclair; do you hear me?” Neil hadn’t raised his voice once since he’d started speaking. To any passers-by, this would look like a normal conversation. “Stay away.”

He didn’t wait for Lucas to respond, tugging Max away with a harsh grip on her wrist. She didn’t dare to turn around.

“I don’t want you anywhere near that boy, Maxine.” His hold loosened the closer they got to the car- Neil’s car, a respectable Ford sedan. She didn’t dare tug her hand free, either. “I hope you learn your lesson with this. Billy didn’t; not at first. I’m afraid I had to use more- forceful- methods with him. I trust I won’t have to do the same with you.”

Max turned to Neil despite herself. It was the first time he’d said Billy’s name since the Fourth of July.

His eyes gave nothing away. “Do I make myself clear?” His fingers tightened again.

“Yes, Papa.”

“Good.” Neil’s smile was a mirror of Billy’s; shark-like and vicious, moments away from tearing into your throat. “It’s about time you got some new friends, too. Girls your age shouldn’t be hanging around with boys too much.”

“El’s a girl,” Max told her shoes.

Neil scoffed. “Really? Did she show you proof?”

What happened to you, Mad Max? Billy would’ve asked. You’re not going to stand up for your little hick friends?

Or maybe-

I had to use more forceful methods with him - the bruises she’d see on Billy while his own knuckles remained unscathed- Mom whisking her away on impromptu shopping trips whenever Neil and Billy raised their voices- forceful methods -

- maybe he would understand.

★

Billy’s life couldn’t have fit into a garbage bag.

Max hadn’t gone into his room since she’d gone with El, but he had to have more than what Neil had thrown out onto the sidewalk. Outside the four walls of his room, it was like Billy hadn’t even existed.

She slipped out of bed in the quiet.

Billy had taught her how to pick a lock, back in California. “Use a hairpin, or somethin’- you got one of those?”

She unfurled her fingers. The hairpin was damp with sweat. She wiped it on her t-shirt, and slid it into the keyhole.

“Keep your big ears close to the door; you won’t hear squat that far away.”

She held her breath, pressing her ear to the cool wood.

“Wait for the sound- there, you hear that? That’s how you know the tumblers are in place.”

The door swung open with a soft click.

Max half expected to be assaulted by cigarette smoke and hair metal. But it had been almost a week, and all that Billy had left behind were stale air and silence.

She flicked on the flashlight. The blinds were drawn, the bed unmade, half his closet on the floor. Air the room out, and you could pretend he’d walk right in.

His schoolbooks balanced an ashtray; the desk was not for studying. Instead, he’d cluttered it with beer cans and tapes and a tree’s worth of loose-leaf.

She padded over and sat down in his chair, trying to imagine him hunched over the desk, scribbling on page after page in messy letters. Billy’s handwriting was just as angry as he was.

Her eyes flickered over song lyrics- snippets from the racket she’d been forced to sit through every weekday morning and afternoon. Somehow, silent car rides had lost their appeal.

Strange little doodles decorated the margins- band logos and cars and anatomically inaccurate depictions of women. “Gross,” Max said aloud, pushing the papers away with a theatric shudder.

The tabletop had not been exempted from Billy’s artistry; Max shone the flashlight on more band logos and cuss words and names engraved into the wood. Here there was a crude AC/DC logo, the lightning slash extending down to form the ‘t’ in ‘TWAT’. There was a ‘María’ right next to that, the accent mark angled in the wrong direction. Max remembered her; she’d gone out with Billy for all of sophomore year- the longest Max had ever seen him go out with one girl. She’d taught Max how to do makeup.

A few paces away was Tina- the prettiest girl in Hawkins High, everyone agreed- Laurie was a slut, but she’d complimented Max on her hair- and then Karen. Max traced the ‘K’; she didn’t know any Karens who went to Hawkins High- but then again, she barely knew all the kids in the middle school. There could be a pretty blonde cheerleader somewhere, talking to her friends over the phone. “Yeah, I went out with him a couple of times,” Max imagined her saying. She’d twirl a strand of hair around her finger, lips pulled down in a pout. “And now he’s dead. Spooky.”

She knuckled her eyes. The beam of the flashlight caught on the letter S.

She held the flashlight up, frowning at the name that made itself obvious. Stevie- except the ‘i’ was jammed haphazardly between the ‘v’ and the ‘e’, like it had been an afterthought.

She stared at it until the light flickered overhead.

“Shit!”

Max dropped the flashlight, head snapping back to the door. It hung ajar, just as she’d left it. Heart in her throat, she inched towards the doorway.

The hallway light flicked on.

Max held the flashlight close to her chest, knuckles bone-white and stark. She stepped outside, and the light turned on in the living room.

When she stood in the doorway, staring out at the lifeless room, the telephone started to ring.

Her feet felt heavy as cinderblocks. She plucked the receiver from its cradle, bringing it to her ear with shaking hands.

From the other side, someone breathed heavily.

Max pressed the phone closer, hard enough to hurt. “Billy?”

A crackle of static. Some peculiar noise.

Apologies on a dying breath.

Then, “Max.”

ao3

[hertzwritings]

White wolf, spotted fur

A/N: I’m completely a whore for Geralt, and I don’t know what to do with it, so I’m just going to write. A lot. Anyway, here’s a one-shot that’s been going ‘round my head for a while, and I hope you’ll enjoy it! I’m still toying with the idea of making it a series, so let me know if you want to read more.

Remember, feedback feeds the writer, so if you’ve got something you’d want to say, let me know!

MASTERLIST

Geralt of Rivia masterlist

Feedback/ask/taglist-requests

 Pairings: Geralt x reader

Warnings: smut, language, mentions of alcohol, Geralt being Geralt

It was fair to say, that Geralt wasn’t the most entertaining partner in crime. Even fairer to say, that he barely spoke more than two words, whenever he did speak.

It was truly infuriating.

It had been almost a full week of you trailing after him, after he saved you from a pack of ghouls, hellbent on tearing your legs off, and he had agreed to lead you back to your home – as he put it, you’d already got yourself in trouble, no need to try again. Now the only problem was that he didn’t speak. You felt like you might have lost your ability to speak as the days dragged on. Your shoes were worn out from the sole, and you’d give anything for a soft patch of moss along the edge of the trees, where you could just rest for a few minutes. Maybe even try to have a full conversation, which seemed mildly impossible at this stage.

Geralt glanced back at you, towing Roach in one hand and his sword clutched in the other. He furrowed his brows with a low hmm as he saw you trip slightly over a small rock. Typical.

“we’ll rest up here.” It wasn’t a question. You didn’t even care at this time, sighing in relief as your feet throbbed harder than ever, and you nodded in agreement. He might not say much, but he said the right things.

Geralt tied Roach to a sturdy tree and pulled a wooly blanket and a leather bag off the horse, placed it on the ground with a dull thump before sending you a rare smile.

That’s new. You groaned as you pulled your shoes off and massaged the sore soles of your feet. It wouldn’t surprise you, if you had grown two inches over this walk in pure hard skin under your feet. Geralt started a fire in inhuman speed, sat down next to you and handed you a blanket offhandedly.

You gazed at him. A scar, harsh and pink, was poking out from the top of his loose, white shirt – you hadn’t noticed it before, but now, as he was leaning forwards, you wondered about it. Where he got it, who gave it to him and how far down it traveled… You blushed and hoped, it could be chalked up to the heat of the fire.

Geralt was a handsome man. You knew that, even before you met him – the White Wolf, the butcher of Blaviken, whatever name he was called, you knew it was screamed in the dead of night by ladies of the cities, small taverns, in the woods. He had talents, if the rumors were true. For some reason, you believed them.   Besides, it’d been a fair few since you’d been with a man who wasn’t affected by Nilfgardian Lager or Sodden mead, and despite Geralt refusal to talk, he was a firm visitor in your dreams. And daydreams.

“Hungry?” his deep voice pulled you from your thoughts. You glanced at his outstretched hand, where a bun was resting on the large palm. You smiled softly at him and grabbed the bread. “Thank you, Geralt.” He hummed in response, and the two of you sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, drinking from the flask and eating the bread, he had handed you.

“Geralt?” “Hm?” You rolled your eyes. “Why don’t you ever talk?” he stared into the fire, taking a swig from the flask in his hand. The fire crackled. “I… Don’t usually have companions.” You nodded. “So, you’re slightly antisocial? Hard with small talk?” He grinned and his yellow eyes lit up from inside, sending a wave of heat down your spine. Shit, he was handsome. “If you’d believe Jaskier’s words, at least. I think I’m the right amount of social. I have my horse.” He nodded to Roach and you raised your eyebrows, before turning fully to him and crossing your legs under you. You didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered to your legs, as your dress rode up slightly, exposing a little more leg than intended. “You talk to your horse? Geralt, I don’t want to pity you, but… For the love of Freyja and all the old gods, why? Company is important, for…” You tried to find the words. He gave you a soft smile. “Well, as long as I’m known as a butcher of a city, I rarely get willing company.” You raised your eyebrows. “Lies.” He looked at you with a smirk, almost challenging you to defy him. Another bout of heat ran through your body, this time from your chest to the center between your legs. Damn him and those eyes and lips.

“I’ve heard how the women yell your name out. I’ve heard the stories of your prowess when it comes to… Women. Fingers, I believe, have been talked plenty about. The towns are abuzz with talk, rumors and women walking slightly different, when you leave.”

Silence followed, until Geralt guffawed loudly and started laughing – really laughing – and he didn’t stop for a few minutes.

You found yourself drawn to the sound of it. It was warm and hearty, far more tan you ever had expected out of him – his hair was coming loose, his eyes were full of mirth and the sound of laughter filled a space in you, you hadn’t thought of in a long time. As the laughter died down, you smiled at him. He chuckled at you before narrowing his eyes slightly in a playful manner. “I sense jealousy.” You blushed. “Not at all. Just stating what I heard… Saw.” You stuttered a little as his yellow eyes bore into yours, never wavering. “So… You don’t have anything in you, that’s… A little curious?” He said, his low voice sending chills through you. He had started to slowly move closer to you, like a hunter would approach a wounded animal.

“Uhm… I…” You couldn’t talk. His scent washed over you, and he was so damn close, there was no running anymore. Not that you really wanted to run. “Maybe slightly jealous.” You whispered. The dark night seemed to swallow the both of you, envelop you in the dark and silent, the night brought with it, and all you could see and sense was him.

“Your heart is beating fast.” You simply nodded. His hand was somehow on your leg, pushing the skirt of the dress higher up.

Suddenly, his lips were on yours. You gasped into him, grabbed his neck and sunk into it, as if you were a drowning man tasting fresh air again. His stubble scratched your chin and lips, but it was the best burn you’d ever felt. He growled as you threw yourself at him, and the sound reverberated in your very core. His teeth caught your lower lip, causing you to gasp, granting his tongue access to yours. It was fire and water at the same time. Your tongue wrestled his in a power-struggle, that brought heat to your center, you had never tried before. He was intoxicating.

You hadn’t noticed he was laying you down, until you felt the ground under your back.

His hands were travelling up and down your legs, growling slightly into the kiss as he reach your warm thighs – you felt his cock strain against the leather, he was wearing and you couldn’t help but to buck your hips against him, trying desperately to get some relief from him. His fingers grabbed your hips harshly, leaving bruises.

You would forever be ruined by this man.

He grabbed the hem of your dress, pulling it up to your navel, releasing himself from the kiss, before biting his lip and glancing down. He looked back up. He looked at you like a wolf, getting ready to eat his prey and you didn’t mind one bit – his eyes caught you and held you, so much that you barely noticed his fingers softly gliding against your soft skin on your thighs.

You noticed it, when he hit your core. You gasped loudly, bucking your hips up, trying to capture his fingers, anything to get him to keep touching you. The sound of straps being pulled echoed in your ears, and you glanced down your body – his fingers were still dancing on your skin, while the other hand busied himself with his pants. Thank the lords.

“Is all of this for me, Y/N…?” he grumbled, touching your damp thighs. You couldn’t do anything but nod. “What did you say… Something about my fingers?” he grinned at you, before his thumb was placed firmly on the sensitive nub of nerves – and you were gone.

He rubbed your clit softly with his thumb, achingly slow, before one of his long fingers softly dancing around your entrance, almost like he was waiting for permission. You were already gasping after air, and you couldn’t handle more teasing – not now, not ever.

“I swear to the gods, Geralt, if you don’t….” You didn’t get to say anything else, before he plunged his finger inside you, one, two, three pumps, before adding another. You arched your back, almost reaching your peak right then and there – you felt his cock glide against your legs, throbbing with lust. He was moving fast and hard, hit your g-spot with every move, his thumb eliciting moans from you – everything felt like fire, and he curled his fingers at the right moment – and you exploded into a firestorm, the coil in your lower abdomen finally snapping, without precedent.

“Fuck…” He grumbled and you glanced at him. He quickly lifted himself up, removing his fingers from you, before grabbing your hair and kissing you like mad, his tongue sweeping every inch of you, his hand, still wet from you, was placed in your hair, pulling slightly, causing another moan to come free from you.

He grunted as you rolled your hips, catching his hard cock slightly against your dripping pussy. It throbbed against the wetness, it found there, almost as if the two of you were searching for each other. “You want me, Y/N?” you couldn’t form words, you could only moan and bite his lip. He wasn’t the only one playing hard.   He groaned and snapped his hips, burying his cock deep within you, bottoming out completely. You screamed in pleasure.

He was big, filling you in a way, you’d never been filled before, and he barely gave you time to adjust to his size, before he started to pound into you. The feeling of him dragging against your walls, caused you to almost spasm against him, grabbing him harshly, raking your nails down his back. He grunted and moaned at the sensation, rutting against you again, going impossibly deeper. You were tethering on the edge of another orgasm, and his cock hammered into you. “Cum for me, Y/N.” he mumbled, his fingers finding your clit again. It was like your body had been waiting for his permission. You exploded into your orgasm, screaming and grinding against him. Your pussy gushed with wetness, the sounds of you and him filling your ears deliciously. He was pounding into you, his hips bumping into you, his cock filling you to the brim – you could feel him stutter in his movements and his cock grow a little, nudging your g-spot once more, causing you to curl up against his chest.

“Fuck, Y/n…” you were full of the feeling of him, rocking your hips against him in perfect unison with him – he grabbed you harshly, sitting up on his knees, you on top of him, wrapping your legs around his waist. He never let you go, but kept pumping his hard cock in and out of you, stretching you to the absolute max. he hit you deeper this time, you screamed his name and reached between your legs, rubbing your clit furiously, as he stuttered in his movements again. He was getting close, as were you, and you could feel him swell inside of you. The thought of him painting your walls with his seed made you moan and the coil, tightening in your stomach, snapped at the same time as he roared and cursed, holding you tightly as he came deep inside of you. He painted your walls white, while you came on him.

As you both calmed down, you could feel him and you leaking from your throbbing pussy, but you didn’t want to move away from him. Not now, not ever. He had effectively ruined you for any and all men after him. It was like he was made for you.

He was gasping for air, his white hair loose from the leather band, his rugged hands on your back and ass. He was kissing every part of skin, he could reach without moving the top of your dress, causing goosebumps to arise, everywhere his breath fanned out over your skin.

You glanced up at the trees. The sun was coming up, painting the sky a soft pink, and you furrowed your brows.

“Geralt?” his thumb calmly ran back and forth over your lower back, catching the fabric slightly. You couldn’t help but smile. He seemed so content. “I hate to break it to you…” “Hmm?” He sounded tired and pleased, his lips ghosting over your neck, and you felt his cock twitch slightly as you accidently moved a little on top of him. “My cabin is five feet away from us. I can see the roof.”

 LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST!

[stonecoldjerseyfox]

Jersey on my mind (part 13)

DISCLAIMER: this part contains graphic descriptions of violence, “Walking Dead-style”.

The white smoke seeps through Milas nose, further up toward the ceiling where it dispels in the breeze that seeps through the open window. And yet, the room is stuffy. 

The warm, moist climate is unfamiliar to her. At least New Jersey reminded her somewhat of the Russian climate. Not that it got cold to the point where the water pipes froze and caused the entire housing complex to resemble an igloo, but at least there was a change of seasons. Autumn, winter, spring, summer. Despite spending nine years in the states, Mila can find herself missing the Russian climate and all its extreme shifts. The summers were dry and hot, the winters cold and dark. She was hardened by the harsh climate, able to cope with most weather conditions, well, at least she thought she was. 

But this heat, which almost feels sticky (and it's not even summer) is very unpleasant. 

Mila takes a new flare on the cigarette. She lies on the unmade bed next to Juri and is in the process of smoking her fifth cigarette for the day and feels grouchy.

At breakfast Mila had stormed off, after once again being refused to accompany the others to the quarry for a rehearsal of the ‘grand plan’. She tried to convince them that she felt much better. She was able to walk and stand. It was trickier to sit down and bend her upper body without wearing, but that wasn’t the point. 

“Gimme’ some morphine and I’ll be fine.” she said. “It's just a briefing.”

She had fallen into a rather rancorous debate with Daryl before Rick intervened and firmly declared that she would not go with them. 

“You stay here. Denise will check on you. Carol and Maggie will also stay-”

Mila yelled at them, then stormed off upstairs and slammed the bedroom door behind her, causing Juri to wake up. Mila rushed over to the bed. “I’m sorry, malysh.” She cooed to the newly awakened boy, rubbing his eyes and collecting his soft toys around him. “Good morning.” she kissed him on the forehead. “Carol made you breakfast downstairs, okay?”

Juri bursted into a sunny smile and Mila kissed him on the forehead once again. While Juri climbed out of bed and rushed downstairs to eat breakfast, Mila took a shower. 

She looks angrily at her bandaged stomach.

“I hate you.” she hisses to the bandage. 

 She hasn’t even bothered to dress properly after the angry shower. For once, she started with the jeans, which is the biggest problem in her attire. As a result, she gave up as soon as they were on her body and the button was buttoned. She laid down on the bed again, in jeans, bra and hat and started smoking, while Juri lay next to her, browsing through the mixtapes Mila constantly carried with her in her backpack. They have been lying there for a while now, listening to everything from Springsteen (their favorite), Grateful Dead and all sorts of country artists, on Juri’s walkman. Willie Nelson, Cash, Alan Jackson, The Highwaymen…

“And we're gonna ride, we're gonna ride. Ride like the one-eyed jack of diamonds, With the devil close behind...” Mila sings with as much feeling she possibly can, without dropping the cigarette. 

When she comes to think about it, smoking is hella’ disgusting. Good thing she rarely smokes then. She prefers vodka. From time to time her eyes wander to the backpack on the floor, where there are five bottles of Tovaritch, Russian standard and Stolichnaya, crying out for her attention, to the point where Mila starts to think she hears them talking to her. 

She hasn't taken as much as a sip of booze since before they were brought to Alexandria, even though she brought five bottles back with her from the liquor store the other day. But due to the fact that she has been falling asleep at the same time as Juri every evening, she hasn’t had those moments on her own where she drinks herself into apathy before falling asleep. Which should be a good thing, but so far it’s been almost intolerable. She’s constantly irritated (which was directed at Daryl and Rick earlier), has a headache, is dreaming nightmares and feels thirsty all the goddamn’ time. And it’s not for water. 

“I'm gonna chase the sky forever, with the woman and the stallion and the wind...” 

Mila’s restless, doesn’t like to be left out. She wonders how things are going at the quarry. It would have been nice to let off steam a bit on a bunch of rotten walkers. Then she might not have believed that the vodka bottles talked to her. 

The walkman clicks. The tape is over. Juri climbs down from the bed, to pick a new cassette tape from the backpack. But something outside the window catches his attention. Mila hears it too, just doesn’t bother. The boy rushes to the window, where the curtains dance in the breeze, stand on his tippy toes and peeks out. 

Mila peers against the window. These are not the usual sounds; no nice greetings as people pass on the street, no birds chirping.

“What is it?” Mila says. “What's going on?”

The boy tears his eyes from the window and starts gesticulating with his hands towards her and mimes; ‘Trouble’. He points to the window. 

“Really?” Mila looks at Juri in disbelief from underneath the hat. Juri nods and raises his index fingers in front of him, places them with their fingertips against each other and then pulls them apart. ‘Enemy’. Mila rises on her elbows in the bed. This can’t be good. ”How many are there?” she whimpers. “Show me the fingers.”

Juri lifts all ten fingers, which can mean both ten and more. Mila swears and climbs out of bed. Her head spins a bit when she stumbles over to the window and opens it fully to look out. The scene that meets her eyes causes her heart to speed up, as if she had received an adrenaline injection right into the beating muscle. Scruffy figures are running around in the streets, armed with machetes and knives, attacking the residents. Mila’s eyes are drawn to a male, with the letter “W” carved in his forehead. Her brain comes to life in the matter of seconds, as if it has been on standby mode for several days. 

“Son of a-” she sputters. “Give me the gun!” 

Juri hurries over to her AK74, takes it and hurries back to the window. Mila grabs the rifle, gives it a quick check to see that it is loaded. Without hesitating, she lifts it out of the window, finds a target, a male whose full attention is directed at Aaron and a woman from the Alexandria community.  

On the next exhale, Mila pulls the trigger. The bullet cuts through the air and the man collapses on the asphalt, with a bleeding bullet hole in his neck. Before Mila is able to search for new targets, and before Aaron can call out to her, a loud bang is heard in the other street, which causes her to lower the rifle. Mila turns around and starts searching for her shoes on the floor. 

“Juri-” she says, as calm as she can, at the same time as she sees the boots. “I want you to put on your headphones, and stay here. Lock the door, and don’t let anyone in.” 

Juri nods obediently, jumps the bed and puts the headphones over his ears, while Mila presses her feet into the boots. Juri presses the on-button on the walkman with his index finger and gives her a thumb up. He’s such a good boy. Mila kisses him on the hair before she opens the door to the bedroom. There’s no time to put on a shirt. She runs out of the room, dressed in jeans, boots, hat and a bra, hurries downstairs and tears the front door open. Aaron runs past on the road, there’s bodies lying on the ground, she hears screaming and yelling. It is as if a light switch turned on in her brain. Her vision is sharper, every muscle, every reflex in her body seems to react faster. Above all, a feeling of indifference. She’s more angry than scared. Her heart pounds with adrenaline. 

A familiar, deep voice speaks to her inside her head, makes Milas skin crawl; “What ties us together, Mila, besides blood, is that you are just as crazy as I am. Deep down, we’re the same. Embrace it.” Well, if she’s ever to embrace it... it might as well be now. Crazy mode; on. 

With a burning sensation of stark mad anger throughout her body,  that scares her as much as it tickles her senses, Mila steps out onto the street. At the same time, a young man, dressed in dark, dirty clothes, comes running rounds the corner of the street, with an axe in his hand. The letter “W” glows red in his forehead. A Wolf. His frantic eyes catch sight of her. Without hesitation, Mila rushes towards him. She’s not particularly strong or bulky, but she's a damn good shot, and she can use a gun for more than shooting things. 

She grabs the barrel of her trustworthy AK74 with both hands and wields it with all her power against the youngster. An unpleasant creaking sound is heard when the oiled wooden stock crushes his jaw. The man falls to the ground with a thud. All the anger Mila built up against the Wolves since their first encounter in the woods, combined with not drinking a drop of alcohol for several days and being denied to follow the other to that goddamn’, motherf-kin’ quarry for a goddamn’ briefing… 

Mila feeds stroke upon stroke with the rifle stock against him, kicking and cursing, until he doesn't move.

[talpup]

Crossroads: 4

Summary: Loss will make a person do terrible things they never thought themselves capable of doing. Things like wanting the mobsters responsible for your little brothers death to pay so badly you’ll summon a Demon to make it happen.

Maya did just that, but little did she know that the Demon would ask for her soul as the price. Or that when she refused give it to him, he would put her in the path of someone possibly much worse.

Kai is offering to help her but what he wants is so much more than her soul. He wants her everything.

Please remember, this fic is rated explicit and has warnings of sex, violence, and other possible triggers.  For a full list of story tags please check the fics AO3 (link to that at the top of my tumblrs homepage).

SORRY for the delay.  I recently started re-working and posting Lost Song, a fic that has beasts, spirits, and sprites with human forms. And focuses on a love triangle between Sphinx!Aizawa, Dragon!Kai, and Reader/OC.

*A bit of a reminder.  This is a 1920's au.  Though the term Mysophobia was coined back in 1879 there were a lot of things that people wrongly thought about it and how to best help those suffering from it.

4.1

Soon after he had sent Hari to follow Maya, Kai had ordered the severed head removed and his entire office scrubbed down.  Though he hadn’t touched the filth himself, he had the overwhelming need to get clean. Hives already starting to break out on his skin by the time he had reached his rooms, undressed, and started the shower.

Stepping out of the steamy bathroom, skin raw and red but feeling fresh and invigorated, Kai moved over to the wardrobe.  White towel wrapped around his waist, he looked over the tailored suits. It was silly.  Though he always took care of his appearance, he never really fussed over what to wear.  But he was now.

Maya had left him.  And though she would be coming back never to leave again, he wanted to do everything in his power to make sure she willingly stayed and accepted him.  Small as it was, part of that included how he appeared to her.  He reached out almost grabbing one of his finer suits but stopped.  What if dressing up wasn’t the answer but dressing down?  Maya, for all her beauty and intelligence, wasn’t a city girl.  She was from a wholesome country place.  It was one of the many things he first liked about her. What if a perfectly fitted, expensive suit wasn’t the answer and only made her feel uncomfortable rather than special?

Decided. Kai dressed, did one more important thing, and then made his way back to his office.  He passed the maid on his way in. “Everything cleaned?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Kai sniffed.  Even with the ornate plague mask the smell of harsh cleaner burned his nostrils and soothed him. “Did they tell you to pay special attention to the desk?”

“Yes, Sir.  I did just as Mister Shin instructed and went over the desk four times.”

Kai frowned.  The head had been on a platter.  It had never touched his desk. It was unreasonable to want an entirely new desk when the filth had never touched the wooden surface.

His mother's voice echoed in his ears. ‘It’s just a phase, Kai.  Quit being so difficult!  The doctor said covering you in the thing you hate will help.  No one is going to tolerate this peculiarity of yours.  No one will love you with it. Just be a good, normal boy and get over this already.’

Banishing the memory, Kai ordered. “Go over it again.”

Accustomed to and slightly afraid of her employer the Maid didn’t question or argue, simply turning around and doing as he commanded.

Kai sat on the sofa while she worked.  The very same sofa Maya had sat in.  He found himself comforted by that thought.  Somehow feeling closer to her despite her current absence. He had to get her back.  Hari would see she was brought back no matter what.  Though he hoped Maya came willingly.  It would be so much easier and pleasant for them both if she were willing.

When the Maid was finally done, Kai sat at his desk.  He felt a slight itch at first, but pushed the feeling down.  He had seen the woman clean the desk.  He didn’t need a new one.  The head had never even touched the desk.  As time worn on he was better able to ignore the itchy feeling until it was completely forgotten, his mind totally focused on his work.

“Kai.” Shin stopped at his Leader’s open office door.  He blinked, eyes widening for a fraction of a second before regaining his composure.  He had never seen his Boss so dressed down, rarely even seeing Kai with his suit jacket slipped off.  It was strange, disconcerting even.  Like seeing his favorite club dancer out of costume and on the street in regular clothes.

“What is it?”  Kai questioned, lifting his eyes from the orders he was writing.

Shin cleared his throat. “They’re back.  Hari’s pulling up the drive.”

Thrilled as he was, Kai didn’t show it.  Capping the fountain pen, he set it down on the desktop.

He got to his feet, exchanging his plague mask for the less sinister dust mask that would put Maya more at ease. His gloved hand moved to straighten his tie then remembered he wasn’t wearing one.  “Order me a new desk.”

“Of course.  What would you like me to do with that one?”  Shin questioned.

Kai passed the man, eager to greet Maya at the door. “Burn it.  Take it down below.  I don’t care.  Just so long as it’s gone by morning. It’s filthy.

“Yes, Boss.”  Shin nodded, coveting eyes fixed on the massive desk, wondering if it would fit in his corner station down below.

4.2

Hari put the car in park.  He hadn’t spoken to Maya the entire trip. And was thankful she hadn’t spoken to him.  What he had seen.  Her speaking to no one as he secretly followed her down the road to her house.  He had seen breaks of madness before but that…  He knew if he had to tell Kai.  What would the Boss say?  What would his Boss do? Was Kai so consumed with Maya that he would keep her?  Try to fix her?

Stepping out of the automobile, he went around and opened the door for Maya.  Numbly, she stepped out.

Hari grimaced at the state of her.  Stockings torn.  Shoes and dressed covered in filth from having walked the dirt road.  There were dried tear tracks marring her pretty face.  And her eyes were red and puffy from crying.  She was a mess.

Kai swung the front door open.  Glad as he was to have her back, he hadn’t planned on greeting her too warmly. Maya had hurt him.  Her ungratefulness at his gift, her venomous words, and running off the way she had should have see her receive a well deserved lesson.  But all his hurt and ire fell away the moment he saw her. She was so dirty.  Looked so broken and small.

Without hesitation, Kai rushed to over wrapping her in a protective embrace. “Sweetheart!  I’m so glad you’re back.  You never should have left.”

He could feel his skin begin to itch from being in contact with someone so dirty.  But this was Maya.  His sweet, beloved Darling. His concern for her overrode everything else.  He pulled back, gloved hands smoothing over her mussed hair.  She was such a mess!  What had happened to his beloved?  Why hadn’t Hari taken better care of her?

Sharp gold eyes fixed on his Lieutenant.

For a moment Hari could've sworn that Kai’s stern eyes glowed.  He swallowed, under his Boss’ angry, accusing stare.

Kai turned away. He would deal with Hari later.  Right now Maya needed him.

“Sir--” Hari was about to tell Kai about what he presumed to be Maya’s mental break when his Boss scooped the filthy woman up into his arms.  Hugging her in her state had been a surprise enough.  But picking her up… He fell silent deciding to wait till morning.  That was if Kai didn’t realize for himself before that.

“You’re home, my Sweet.  I got you.”  Kai murmured, caring her into the house and up the stairs.

Entering his quarters, he made straight for the bathroom, setting her down.

“Maya.” Kai pulled off the dust mask and gloves.  “Look at me, Darling.”

Maya simply stared at the penny title floor.  It wasn’t that she didn’t hear Kai’s voice, it was just so distant, her sense of loss overwhelming.  When headlights had blinded her, Hari stepping out of the car, Maya had felt relieved.  She might’ve lost all she had left of her baby brother but Kai would help her get her revenge.

She hadn’t thought to question why Hari was there or how he had found her.  Even now her mind was so dazed and dull from her loss that she let Kai move and undress her.

“Let’s get you clean.  You’ll feel better after a nice, warm bath. Loosing your home like that--”  Kai stopped.  His eyes lifted to Maya’s, cursing himself.

She had seen that he and Hari hadn’t spoken.  Knew that he shouldn’t yet know about her home.  If she caught the slip and questioned him…  Maya was clever.  Would she piece together that he had sent men to burn the place down days ago?  It had been done so she would have nothing to return to should she try and leave him.  And clearly it had been the right decision.

Thankfully Maya’s unfocused gaze was still on the floor.

Kai’s hands resumed.  This was his first time undressing her.  It should have been full of heated kisses and searing touches.  Her hands and eyes should have been on him, not dead on her lap, gaze on the floor.  This night should have gone so differently.  But he pushed the bitter thought down.  Maya need him.  She would undoubtedly be grateful for his care.  And the thought of her showing that gratefulness had him focusing on the task at hand.

Turning off the tap, he checked the bath water before lifting her up and setting her in the tub.

Maya sucked in a breath.

“Too hot?”  Kai questioned, dipping his hand in once more. He preferred near scalding water, and had made sure to temper his preference with cooler water for her.

Honeyed eyes watched her.  But she didn’t make another sound, her expression blank.

Deciding that the water was fine, Kai picked up a fresh washcloth.  Kneeling beside the claw foot tub, he lifted her arm.  The limb moved without resistance.  Dead weight in his hand.

He had let her leave figuring that seeing she had no place else to go would make her accept her place here with him.  But seeing her now, he wondered.  It cemented in his mind that she should never be allowed to leave again.

“Sweetheart. Look at me.”  Kai bid.  And to his immense relief and pleasure, she did.

Though her eyes were still glassy and unfocused, her head turned.

“I was worried about you.”  Kai told, brushing her tear-stained cheek.

Maya merely blinked.  It was like loosing her brother all over again.  It was possibly even worse as now she had literally nothing to remember him by.  Nothing but her memories.  She couldn’t forget him.  She would never forget him.

Kai’s eyes raked over her naked body.  He used the washcloth to clean her sweet face, gaze following the rivulets of water that ran down her neck and chest.  It wasn’t suppose to be like this, his first time seeing her disrobed.  He had fantasied about bathing with her.  Lovingly and methodically scrubbing each others flesh after a heated lovemaking.  But just because things hadn’t turned out the way he had planned didn’t mean… No.  He was trying to earn Maya’s love and trust, not force and break it.

This weak inner play of desire and focus of task tugged at him as he bathed her.  It couldn’t be denied that he was enjoying himself. She was just so warm and soft.  So beautiful.  So perfect.  And like this, she was almost doll like.  A perfect living doll for him to do as he pleased.

His hands and the washcloth lingered more and more as he moved from her arms and back, and worked up her legs.  With nothing but a soapy square of terrycloth between them, Kai’s hand moved up her inner thigh.  “You should never have left.  You belong here.  With me.”

Her body went taught, a sound between a grunt and a whine escaping her lips.

For a heady moment Kai thought she was responding to his touch. But a second later he realize that, while that might've been the case, it wasn’t in the way he wanted.

Maya’s noise hadn’t been one of pleasure but pain.

In scolding and telling her of her place, Kai had lost himself for a moment.  As he had done so, his fingers had dug into her tender, subtle flesh.  With silent censure, his hand released.  She would no doubt have bruises marring her lovely skin come morning.  Bruises that hadn’t occurred in heated amore.  Would anything this night go right?  At least he had her back.  But that was becoming an increasingly small comfort given the way he had imagined this night going down.  Especially when he wouldn’t have let her leave if he hadn’t been sure he would get her back.

With her legs and stomach done, Kai paid special attention to her chest.  There was no more pretending that this was just about getting her clean.

Maya shivered.  Goose flesh erupting over her skin.

Kai scrubbed all the harder around a perking nipple.  “Doesn’t that feel good, my Sweet?  To get and be clean.  We will be doing this from now on.  A man should take care of his woman in every way that he can.  And the ways I can take care of you, my Love.”

“Kai…”

“There she is.”  Kai smiled. “I knew all you needed was a bit of tending and stimulation to have you fully returning to me.  You had me worried, my Sweet.”

“The water’s cold.”

“No worries.  I’ll warm you up.”  He laid the washcloth over the tub and pulled the stopper, letting the water drain.

Rising to his feet, he grabbed a fluffy white towel.

Though she was now more with it, Maya allowed him to stand her up.  She felt a slight embarrassment at him drying her.  But her mind was still so lost in the events of the night that she did little to try and hide herself.

Reluctantly, Kai slipped a silk rode on her, tying it loosely around her waist. “Come, Darling.  Let’s move to the bed where it’s more comfortable.”

Maya followed, towel hanging over her shoulders.

Kai sat her down and sat behind her, hands taking up the towel to properly dry her hair.  “Feeling better?”

Maya hummed, drowsily.  It was so tempting to fall asleep, hoping that when she woke all of this would turn out to be a bad dream.

“I will always make you feel good.”  He breathed against her hair.

She shivered.

Kai set the towel aside and took up a brush.

Turning back to her, his eyes landed on the lounge beside the bed.  Or more correctly the book left on the lounge.  He had pulled it from his hidden stash to look it over for something to help should Maya prove difficult upon her return.  But Maya was being far from difficult, though she obviously wasn’t the only one having a hard time keeping a clear head.

His gaze flicked back to her.  She hadn’t seen it yet. With the love Maya had for books, she would’ve asked about it. Kai cursed his forgetfulness.  He would gladly give his Darling anything she wanted so long as it was safe and wouldn’t cause her harm.  But answers about that book. The contents in it.  Such things would definitely make her unsafe and potentially cause her harm.  He hadn’t even made Hari or Joi aware about that book or his past dabblings with it.  And his care for them was far less than his care for Maya.

He glanced at Maya, grateful that she knew nothing about such things. And silently vowed to do everything in his power to make sure she never did.

He quickly unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off, tossing it over the book.  He always got up before her.  He would put it back in its place in the morning.

“My house was gone.”  Maya muttered, barely aware Kai had moved behind her, let alone taken off his shirt.

“You’re house is fine.”  Kai soothed. “It’s here.  With me.  This is your home.”

“Burned to the ground.”  She went on barely hearing what he had said.

Kai rested his hands on her shoulders. “Sweetheart. I know you see this as a tragedy.  Something that has greatly hurt you.  But perhaps it is a blessing in disguise.  That place wasn’t your home. Not anymore.”  He turned her to him.  “Your place is here.  With me. Forever by my side.”  His fingers tenderly brushed her cheek. “Your my girl, Maya.”

Maya’s heart clenched, tears welling with fresh tears. “Everything I had left of him was in there.  It’s like loosing him all over again.  I have nothing now.  No one.”

“You have me.”  His thumb brushed away a fat tear that rolled out of its banks.  “I have no doubt that it hurts right now.  But I will give you more than your justice.  I will give you everything.  You are not alone.  I will give you new, happy memories.  Your life with me will be so full of love and joy that you’ll forget all that you have lost.”

His words tumbled about in her head, their meaning barely registered.  All that mattered was that Kai was here.  That he had accepted her back.  That he seemed to forgive her justified but rude outburst.  And that he would help her get her vengeance.

His voice was deep and smooth.  Reassuring and alluring. Like beckoning sirens call, she was drawn to it.  Drawn to him.

She had lost everything that had ever meant anything to her.  Her brother. Her very reason for being.  The only picture she had of him.  The pillow and clothes that had carried his scent.  The house that he had brightened with his smile.  Filled with his joyous laughter.  It hurt too much.  If she continued to focus on it all she would break.  She couldn’t break.  Not until she had avenged him.

Needing to feel something, anything else Maya leaned forward and kissed her handsome savior.

Kai startled for a fraction of a second at her making the first move. But he recovered instantly. His arms wrapped around her, lips moving when hers didn’t.  Teeth lightly nibbled at her lower lip.  Tongue licking, seeking entrance.

Maya pulled back.  What had she done?  She had been angry at him.  Though sitting here she could barely remember what their argument had been about.  Everything had faded after the sight of the burned house.

“Kai…” She shouldn’t be doing this.  Encouraging him when he obviously wanted more.  But she had just lost everything.  And the pain and anger, it was overwhelming.  She needed to feel something other than heart-wrenching loss and rage.  And Kai was here.  He was willing and wanting, and just so handsome.

Kai’s heart and body was set ablaze by her tender kiss.  And now that he had had a taste he wanted more.  Needed more.  All this time he had resisted.  Held himself back not wanting to scare her away by demanding.  But she had made the first move.  And now that she had it would be perfectly acceptable for him to make the second, third, and four.

“Darling.” Kai’s hand buried in her hair, the other pulling her onto his lap. His lips were on hers, tongue pressing, all but demanding entry.

Letting go, Maya opened her mouth to him.  Her hands rested on his shoulders, neither pushing or pulling.

Leaving her breathless, Kai moved on to her neck.  Kissing and sucking at her tender flesh. Even though this night hadn’t gone the way he had planned, it would still end the way he had wanted.  Maya would be his completely.  She wanted him too.  She had made the first move.  Had kissed--  She had made the first move…

Kai pulled back, eyes sharp.  Expression stern.  “You’ve done this before.”

At his accusatory tone, Maya lifted her chin in defiance. The look was ruined by her quivering lips and shining, shame filled eyes.  “Only cause I had to.”

A different kind of fire ignited in Kai’s chest. “You were forced!”

Her hands moved to her robe, clutching the fabric closed at the base of her throat.  “Forced to survive and provide for my brother.  Rent was hard enough to make in good times.  When he got sick and I had to miss work to stay home and care from him…”  She took in a shuddering breath.  “I could've done without a roof over my head. But a young boy needs a home.  Stability.  I did what I had to to see he always had a shelter and enough food in his belly not to starve.”

Kai stared at her.  His teeth gritted so tightly together his cheek started to twitch. This beautiful, sweet creature.  His beautiful, sweet Beloved had her innocence stolen!  A part of her purity that should have been meant for him.  For him alone to have and take.

“Your Landlord.”  Kai spoke, the rage evident in his voice.

She nodded.

“Wha--” He cleared his throat feeling sick and murderous at just the thought of the question.  But he needed to know.  “What did he ask of you?”

“Enough.” Maya muttered, eyes downcast.  Too much, she thought.  But it had been for her brother.  She would’ve, and still would do anything for him.

She didn’t dare look at Kai. Would he hate her?  Find her disgusting and soiled?  She surely was both those things and more. Even if it had all been done for her brothers sake.  Kai was obsessed with cleanliness.  And despite the recent bath, she was far from clean.

Kai’s hands curled into fists. That man.  That sick, depraved villain had taken advantage of his Darlings situation and need to provide.  He had used it to force her to…  No. He couldn’t even think of it.  Couldn’t bare the thought of it.  His poor sweet Maya.  She had needed him and he hadn’t been there.  It further proved that she could never leave his side.  She was too good.  Too innocent and beautiful.  People would take advantage.  She needed to be protected.  He needed to protect her.

“Was he the only one?  This landlord?”

Maya nodded.

He would have him killed, Kai thought. He would send Hari--  No! He’s eyes fell on the shirt and the book beneath it. He wouldn’t send Hari. He would handle it himself.

Kai turned back to her.  “Did you ever get pleasure from it.”

“Of course not!”

“I didn’t mean it like that, my Sweet.  I meant--”

“No.” Maya said cutting him off.  “He never took the time to try. It’s the one thing I’m grateful for.”

“That he didn’t take your first orgasm.”  Kai said, warming to the idea.

“Please. I don’t want to talk about it any more.”

Kai hugged her against his chest.  He was definitely upset that he wouldn’t be her first; but he didn’t blame Maya for it. He, more than anybody, understood that sometimes one had to do unsavory things.

“You will never have to think or talk about him again.”  He promised, kissing her head.  “In fact, consider him gone.  As good as dead.”

Maya’s head raised at that.  It was one thing to seek vengeance for the innocent life of her brother, but something completely different to do so for herself.  “Kai--”

“Shush.” Kai hush, lightly kissing her lips.  He turned them and urged her to lay back.

“Kai! What are you--”

His hand glided from her waist to her hip, and down the silken skin of her leg.  “I told you to hush, Darling.  The only sounds I want to heard coming out of you’re pretty little mouth are sweet mewls as I show you.”

“Show me?  Show me what—ah!” “There it is.”  Kai sighed, a knuckle grazing up between her legs.  “That’s the sound I want to hear.”

“Kai…” This was too fast.  Too soon she wasn’t ready.  Didn’t want-- Her body tensed, his finger dipping further between her folds.  A jolt of electric pleasure rushed through her when the digit brushed her clit.  “There!  Oh!  Kai!  Please!  There.”

“Don’t you worry, Beautiful.  I know just where you need me.  Just what will have you singing and coming apart for me.” His hand turned, fingers dipping down to her entrance to collect and spread the first sign of her juices while the other tugged at the belt of her robe, undoing it.

Maya’s legs snapped shut around his hand.  No!  Good as it felt, this wasn’t right.  Kai was...obsessed.  She knew it.  Had seen and ignored it.

Nothing’s changed, she argued with herself.  You still need him to get revenge. You were willing to do this if he demanded before.  At least he’s gentler and more caring than that stinking, old landlord.  Its his caring that scares me.  It isn’t right.  Isn’t normal.

“Maya.” Kai’s voice held a teasing censure.  “I can’t please you if you don’t let me.  I need you to open those pretty legs for me, Darling.”

“I--” Maya stared up at him.  Behind him his shadow looked— She blinked. Whatever it was, was gone.

“Come now, Sweetheart.  Give me room to work and I’ll have you forgetting your own name.”

Forget. That was what she wanted, wasn’t it?  To forget the landlord. Forget all that she had lost when the house burned down.  To forget the sight of that severed head.  And drown out, replacing the screams and blood and death of that horrible day her brother died.

“Kai. Make me forget.  Please.”

Kai leaned over her.  “I will, my Love.  I will make you forget every terrible thing.  Everything but me and your life here.  We belong together, Maya.  Together, we will build a new and wholesome world where killings and fires never happen again.”

Her eyes widened.  This was wrong.  What he wanted was wrong.  The amount of death it would take to make his perfect world.  No one could live up to that standard.  Not even Kai himself.  Especially not Kai himself.

Her thoughts were driven away by his lips.  She sighed into his hungry mouth.  Legs spreading of there own accord as her hands gripped his shoulders. She had made a deal with a demon.  What more would it hurt to give herself to a devil of a man if it meant seeing her vengeance done? It wasn’t as if Kai had demanded anything of her.  He didn’t want her soul.  Merely to take care of and love her.  After all this time, it would be nice to be the one taken care of.

“That’s it, my Sweet. Give yourself to me and I’ll make you forget.  I’ll make everything alright.” His lips gazed up her neck to her ear.  “You’re never leaving me again.  You’re mine.”  His fingers pushed into her wet heat, thumb pressing tight circles into her clit.

Maya’s back arched up off the bed. “Oh!  Ka���Kai!”

“Such a pretty sound.  Make some more for me.”  His fingers curled, and she did.

Maya moaned and screamed his name as he worked her with long, thick, skilled fingers.

As badly as he wanted to kiss her, he wanted to watch her more. This was their first time together.  Her first time feeling such pleasure.  Such an event should be marveled at.  Committed to memory. It wasn’t as if they wouldn’t be doing this at least once a day from now on.  He could already imagine taking a long afternoon break, delighting fully in her after she had sat on his lap all morning, keeping him warm.

His cock thrummed at the thought and he grimaced at the wet spot that blossomed in his underwear.  He would satiate his own need soon enough.  But first.  “You’re so close for me already.  Tell me.  Do you want to cum?”

“Yes!” Maya panted, hips bucking up to his hand. “Please, Kai.  Please!”

“Say it.  Say the words.”

“I want to cum.  Please!”

“And who do you want to make you cum?”

“You! Ah!” Her nails dug half moons into his shoulders.

Kai hissed, muscles rolling at the sharp heady pain.  His fingers slowed, thumb lifting off her.  “Such a good girl for me.”  He hummed, smirking at the way her quivering walls tried to milk his fingers. “I don’t think you’re fully satisfied yet.”

“Huh?” She breathed, feeling light as a feather.

“Don’t worry, Darling.  I know exactly what will see use both satisfied.” He got to his knees and paused, lifting his slick coated fingers. Almost on impulse, he pushed them into her face.  “Clean those for me.”

Maya’s mouth opened to question, but as soon as her lips parted his fingers pushed in.  She made a strangled noise.

“Just use your tongue and suck.”  Kai instructed, assumed by her flustered blush.  He had just fingered her and was about to do so much more.  Cute as it was, she had no reason to be shy or embarrassed.  He would know and control everything about her.  She was his.

Maya’s lips closed around his fingers, doing as he said.  She had never tasted herself.  It was...interesting.  Not bad, but not what she would call good.  It was sharp, musky, and somewhat sweet.  A distinctive taste that she’d never be able to describe if asked.  With a start she realized it was a taste distinctly hers.  Her taste.

Her eyes flicked down, wondering what Kai tasted like.  No!  That was… Bad?  Good?  Disgusting?  Would he want her to use her mouth on him? It was something the landlord had like to have her do.  Though it hadn’t been her using her mouth so much as having her mouth be used.  Thankfully the dirty slob liked to finish on her face.

“So good for me.”  Kai murmured pulling his fingers free.  His hand returned to his belt, undoing it and his pants.  He caught Maya watching in interest and smiled.  He didn’t know anything about the scum that touched her but he knew he was better.  It wasn’t arrogance.  It was fact.

When his pants and underwear pulled down, and cock sprung free, Maya gulped.

He smiled at her expression.  “It’s alright, Sweetheart.  It’ll fit.  I promise.”

Maya doubted that.  It was long and thick. Just the thought of it being put in her made her legs and cunt quiver.

“Do you want to touch it?”

She shook her head, despite the desire to do so.

Kai frowned.  He grabbed her wrist and pulled it to him.  Before she could pull back, her fingers were being wrapped around his length.  It was even bigger than it looked.  Her hand appearing small, unable to fully circle around it.

“There’s a good girl.  See.  Nothing to fear.  I would never hurt you.  Your mine, Maya.  And I always take care of what is mine.”

As soon as he released her, she pulled her hand away.  Her palm missed the throbbing heat, feeling clammy and cool.

“Kai!” Maya squeaked as he lowered over her, propping himself up on an arm. “Please be gentle.”

“Of course, my Love.  I’ll try.”  His other hand cupped her cheek. “You made me wait so long.”

Days she thought.  They had known each other no more than two weeks.

“You must understand that I don’t like waiting.  But I did so for you. Because I love you.”  He frowned when she didn’t reply in kind.  He knew she loved him.  She had to.  She was here.  Giving herself to him.  She was his.  She had to love him just as much as he loved her.  “Say it, Darling.  Tell me you’re mine.”

Maya sucked in on her lips. She wouldn’t lie, so she did the quickest thing she could think of. Distract him.  Her head lifted, arms wrapping around his neck.

Kai hummed when her lips met his, her mouth eagerly opening for him of her own accord.  It was further proof of her love.  She was just shy.  Had probably never said the words to anyone that wasn’t family.  He scowled, kissing her in return. She better have never said such words to anybody that wasn’t family.

The taste of her filled his mouth.  It made him want to sample straight from the source, but his cock was aching.  He had waited so long for her.  He was done waiting.  There would be time enough to taste and claim every part of her later.

Taking himself to hand, he ran his length through her wet folds and pressed the head to her entrance.

Maya whined.  It wouldn’t fit.  It wouldn’t fit.  He was going to rip her apart.

“Maya. Relax.”

Gold eyes stared down at her.  Her breath caught.  She could swear that they had glowed for an instant.

He pushed in.

Maya gasped.

Hand lifting, Kai cupped her face.  She was so beautiful and sweet.  As badly as he wanted to sheath himself completely, he held back went slow.

Hips rocking, Kai’s thick length entered her inch by inch until he was seated fully in to the hilt.

“There.” Kai smiled, thumb brushing her cheek.  “I told you.  You should never doubt or question me, my Love.”  In fact, if she did so again he couldn’t guarantee that it wouldn’t be met with swift punishment.

“Kai.” Maya whined, the sound far different from the one moments before.

His pride swelled at her needy tone.  “Are you ready for me to move?”

“Yes. Please.”  She breathed.

Despite his need, he started a slow, sweet pace, letting her fully adjust to the feel of him.  As great as his need for more was, he didn’t want to hurt her.  Fingers rolled her nipples, his ears enjoying every sound she made.  Big as he was, he hardly needed to angle his thrust to hit the spot inside her, but he did, wanting to give her the most pleasure.

“Ka—ah—i!” Her back arched, toes curling.

Damn! She was so tight.  His perfect little darling. She was so good and pliant.  So obedient.  Well, almost.  There was one thing she had yet to do for him.  One thing he needed to hear her say.

His thrusts deepened, hips snapping against hers.  The sound of skin slapping skin mixed with her wanton cries.  It was beautiful.  She was beautiful. “I love you, Sweetheart.”

“Kai. Ple—please!  I—I need--”

“I got.  Just what.  You need.”  Kai said in-between thrusts. “But first.  Let me hear you.  Say it.”

“Say. What?”

“Tell me.  You love me.”

Maya’s eyes widened.  Her hands slid down from his shoulders to his chest, though she resisted the instinct to push him away.

Kai grunted, Maya tightening around him.  “Say it, Sweetheart.  Don’t be shy.”

She moaned, his hips grinding down, rubbing against her clit.

“Say it, Maya. Let me hear you.”  It was like a beast had been unleashed.  Kai had known he wanted Maya, but he hadn’t realized how consuming the need had been.  He more than wanted her.  More than needed her.  He needed her to want him.  Needed her to see him as her everything, just as she had become his.

His pumping hips slammed against hers making her breasts bounce.

Maya found it difficult to breath.  And not just because she was so close again.  It felt as if he were fucking the air out of her.

Kai’s hand moved between them, pressing against her clit.  He had wanted to be gentle.  Told her he would try to be. But pleasure was pleasure and she was being bad by not saying what he wanted.  On top of that, there were still her disrespectful words and reaction from earlier this evening.  She deserved a little roughness.

“Who do you belong to?”

“Y—you! Ah!  Ka—i!” Maya writhed beneath him.

“Tell me.  Who do you love?”

“You!”

“Say it!”

“I—ah! I love you!  Kai!  Please!  Please!”

Kai’s eyes practically glowed.  He had gotten what he wanted, but he didn’t let up. “That’s it, Beautiful.  Come apart for me.  Cum for me. Just.  Like. That.”

She screamed, nails digging scratches into his back.  Her orgasm heightened by Kai’s own.  His cock coming alive, spitting its hot seed deep inside her.

He hovered above her a moment, panting as they both came down from their highs.  Finally, he brushed her hair back.  “You did so good, my Sweet. Admitting your love for me.  I’m so proud of you.”

“I--” Maya paused.  He looked so happy.  Was giving her so much.  What was one lie if it gave him what he wanted while he gave her what she wanted?  It wasn’t as if she disliked him.  In truth, given time, she could see herself maybe coming to love him.  It was just all so new.  They hadn’t known each other for more than two weeks. It was better to let him believe, than hurt him and chance not getting her revenge.

You’ll regret this, a small inside voice told.  He’s controlling and obsessed.  But she ignored the voice.  So what if he was a little controlling and obsessed?  She was getting what she wanted.  She would do anything for her brother. Even if it meant lying in order to see the men who had taken her brother from her punished and dead.

Looking up at him, Maya smiled sweetly.  “I love you, Kai.”

This chapter was a tough one for me to get a handle on and write.  It's my first somewhat consensual smut with Kai, my first smut for him being a rape scene in my Chaos fic.  So any comments, thoughts, or constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated.

As always, an extra special thank you to @inorganicone2230 for their encouragement and friendship.  I couldn't have done this chapter without your help and input.  Heck, that goes for ALL my fics. Huzzah!  For 'proofreading'.  lol  Seriously though, you really are the best my friend.  THANK YOU!

Taglist: @shadynebula –  Hope you’re feeling better today.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

To-Do List

A/N: Domestic Angst with some fluffy smut mixed in so 18+

Thor leaned against the door frame and watched you. Your hair was piled on the top of your head, held in place precariously with a few pins. You had a list of things to be done and you were working through them steadily. Currently, you were scrubbing a pan like you were angry at it. If you were angry at anyone, it was probably him. 

He sighed and opened his mouth to say something and shut it again. When you’d gotten out of bed frustrated and upset, he should have followed. He should have kissed you stupid and carried you back to the bedroom. Reminded you that you were a queen. Not his maid.

But he hadn’t done that.

He turned and left the kitchen with his cup of coffee, going to get ready for the day. He couldn’t look at himself as he got dressed. He hated what the years of neglect had done. The softness that had taken over what used to be hard and chiseled. But it didn’t matter. Your taste in clothing was impeccable. You knew what his sizes were and you’d spent a long time building his current wardrobe. Warm knitted sweaters, button-downs, flannels, jeans, t-shirts. Comfortable but functional. He felt a little better wearing that than he had in sweats. He was a king, technically. And now he felt a little more like one. 

Thor knew he wasn’t a perfect husband.

Old habits died hard and he could be arrogant. He could be thoughtless. But that hadn’t been the problem this morning. This morning when you’d kissed him slowly and moved to straddle his hips, the desire had practically radiated off of you. It had been weeks since he’d made love to you. Since he’d felt confident enough to touch you that way. This morning as you bent over him to start kissing his neck, kissing down his body, he’d stopped you. Pulling away from you, despite the erection that throbbed in his sweats. He couldn’t see your face but he felt you go cold. He could see the hurt. You had sighed and fled the bedroom quietly, changing clothes in the closet. Thor hadn’t been able to watch you leave. Dressed for utility and function. Men’s cargo pants and a flannel that wasn’t his. That bothered him. You stole his sweaters and flannels all the time. He liked it. You drowned in them, like a little kid playing dress-up. But he always knew you were warm and comfortable. It looked cute. Better on you than it did on him. You didn’t steal them when you were mad at him. He shouldn’t say mad. You had a slow temper. Hurt. When you were hurt. That was probably more accurate. 

Thor sat on the porch, sipping coffee, listening to you rattle around in the house. There was no music playing, like there usually was. It was silent but for the sound of your working and the tread of your feet on the wood floors. You brushed past him, taking the trash out. You kept your head down and didn’t pause to kiss his cheek. Thor stared at the teardrop that had hit the wooden step and his stomach twisted unpleasantly. You hurled the trash into the dumpster and paused to wipe your face on your sleeve. Trying to collect yourself to keep working your way through the list of things you had to do. It didn’t matter if your husband didn’t find you attractive, you supposed. He took care of things so you didn’t have to. He cared about you still. That was enough. Most of the time. But today you just needed more. The longer you scrubbed and straightened and organized and fielded calls from parents anxious about sending their kids to a Midgardian school... You just. You felt tired. And tense. You craved physically exertion that felt good. That wasn’t just endless thankless tasks. 

Thor watched you disappear around the corner of the house, about to start pulling in herbs and vegetables to get them ready for canning and drying. He wondered how long it had been since you’d just run yourself a bath and relaxed with a book and a glass of wine. How long it had been since you hadn’t just gotten up in the morning and worked. He poured himself a second coffee and turned to go to the yard. Maybe he could help, make the work go faster. He paused, unsure of what to do. You were breaking a sweat. Your flannel around your waist, hair coming down around your face, hiding it from view. “Sweetheart?” he asked. “Yes?” you answer, not looking up and his heart twists. You’re literally hiding from him. Refusing to look up. You’re too busy to cry but that doesn’t stop the frustrated tears that keep spilling down your cheeks. You’re a frustrated crier. Thor steps carefully over the painstakingly organized rows of herbs and puts his hands on your shoulders. You freeze and you can feel yourself holding your breath. Thor frowns at the tension in your body. He hadn’t noticed it this morning. This morning all he’d felt was the heat and the silk of your skin. The eager pressure of your lips. “Y/N,” he said softly, trying to tilt your chin up to make you look at him. “What’s wrong?” he asked, not fighting your resistance to looking at him. “Nothing,” you say, shaking your head, “It’s nothing.” He cups your cheek and strokes your cheekbone with his thumb, “You’re crying,” he says, “ you don’t cry over nothing.” 

You shake your head and pull away, wiping your eyes on the back of your hand as you turn away. “It’s fine,” you repeat, kneeling to start putting tomatoes in a basket. You don’t want to ask why he didn’t want you anymore. You didn’t think your heart could take hearing a list of every flaw that you already knew you had. You just. You missed the way he used to look at you. It made your knees tremble. It had made you burn with lust. Now there was just absent fondness and chaste kisses. Dutiful little pecks, really. Thor knelt next to you and started looking to the perfectly ripe tomatoes. He stayed quiet and you were thankful. You couldn’t seem to stop the frustrated tears that kept coming. Your throat burned from the strain of holding yourself together and you felt sick to your stomach. There was no way you could trust your voice. 

Before the snap, after you’d first been married, Thor had been adamant that you were his queen. The love of his life. He hadn’t cared about your past. But after the snap, after he’d brought you back to him, he had hardly touched you. It had been a year since he’d brought you back. He was different. So very different, but beautiful still. Still your Thor. Your love. The spouse you promised to keep forever. You felt the same. Clearly, he didn’t. You didn’t know if it was someone else and you pushed the thought away when it stabbed at you. 

Thor’s hand stilled and he watched you. You were holding yourself in such tight control that you were trembling. He could see the tension ratcheting down on your body. It was like you were shrinking into yourself, getting smaller and smaller by the minute. He reached for you, wanting to pull you to him but you pull away. You can’t take it. You need more than the soft, chaste touches. It feels worse than not being touched at all. You don’t even know where you’re going. 

Vaguely towards the woods. Where you can’t be followed. Where you can have your cry out and watch the creek. 

Thor watches you go. Your feet pounding the rocky dirt. The sob that ripped from you as you went is more than frustration. It’s heartbreak. He winces. He knows it isn’t all this morning and his turning you aside. As he sits on his knees in the grass, he can’t really remember the last time he was properly affectionate toward you. Pulling you into his arms just to hold you for the sake of touching you. He felt like an ass. He took the vegetables to the meeting house to be canned and went home. He wished he was a better cook, that he could make you a hot meal. He settled for putting the kettle on. You liked tea. 

By the time you come home, wrung out and red-eyed, you’re so fucking tired. 

You stare at the list on the counter listlessly and sigh. Thor puts the mug of hot tea by your hand and comes to wrap his arms around you. Tenderly pulling you back against him and pressing a soft kiss into your neck. “I know you don’t love me anymore, it’s okay. You don’t have to pretend,” you say softly. Thor freezes and his heart drops. You think he doesn’t love you. You take his silence as admittance and pull away. “I’m going to go pack my things. The laundry’s done. And the dishes... Someone can help you with the garden. I- you deserve to be with someone you still want to be with.” You don’t look at him. You can’t but it doesn’t stop Thor from seeing you starting to cry again. You turn to go and Thor listens to the pounding of your feet on the stairs. 

You think he doesn’t love you. Unacceptable. 

He moves as quietly as he can on the stairs. He can hear you sniffling as you pack. Clothes being shoved roughly into a bag. Things being left behind. The pretty dresses and shoes you liked to wear. That you never had a chance to wear anymore because it was just endless work. The pretty undergarments that went under them that stirred his blood. Left in the drawers. The jewelry he bought you left behind in favor of a few books and a stuffed bear he bought you once when you were ill. He opens the door and crosses the floor without thinking. He pulls you by the waist, walking you back against the wall and pinning your wrists above your head to keep them still. He has to do this before he can think. You can’t be allowed to think he doesn’t want you anymore. Not when losing you had torn him apart the first time. You’re panting and a little alarmed but he kisses you any way. 

Hard. 

He crushes your lips against his hungrily and in his haste, your shirt was torn in half on the floor. You melted into him. Eager and tentative at the same time. Thor can taste the salt of tears on your lips and feel the desperation flowing through you. When you melt a little more, he lets your wrists go, lifting you easily and carrying you to the bed. There are no words. He can’t put into words his disappointment in himself. His terror that you were really going to go. Just how much he loved you. How he’d wanted to do just this every single time you’d tried to tempt him. He kisses and petted, finding every one of the spots that made you burn for him. and a few of them that made you giggle, just because he missed that little sound. He made you come until you were silently pleading for him, imploring him to give you just one more thing. Himself. 

As he sank into you slowly and your legs wrapped around his waist to pull him closer he didn’t resist. He sinks down to kiss you again. Ignoring the impulse to pull away when his belly pushes against you. His hips stutter but you claim his lips in a kiss that makes him forget. That reminds him that it’s you and you love him. That you don’t care that he’s not hard-bodied any more and can’t seem to get that way again. You want him. As he is. When you said forever you meant it. Even if you had died once. 

Thor finds his rhythm again and covers your face and neck in tender, heated kisses. He can’t think. It feels so good being between your thighs and having you pinned comfortably under him. The quiet thunderstorm outside and the crack of thunder when he found release inside you. It was so achingly familiar. You wanted one more kiss. One more cuddle. For him to be inside you just a little longer. The comfort of him. The warmth. The feel of his rough hands on your skin. You wanted more but as he held you, your head on his shoulder and his hand on the curve of your ass and the other in your hair as he held you on top of him. “I love you, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I love you so much. Please don’t ever think you’re the problem. It’s me... it’s always me.”

You lift your head up and he kisses your nose, “Thor,” you say softly, but he kisses you quiet. “I know,” he said, “You love me. Regardless of what I look like.” He smiles a little and cards his fingers through your hair tenderly, “You’re always so beautiful. Especially like this. Warm and relaxed. Naked.” He slaps your bottom lovingly and you giggle. This feels so good. So comfortable. You smirk and Thor raises an eyebrow as you start to kiss down his body like you did this morning. Lavishing attention on all his biggest insecurities for a moment. Tenderly reminding him that you adore him. He feels himself blush but he lets you. He lets you adore him. The soft kisses and playful touches. It reminds him of your honeymoon. Of pretending to be asleep to make you keep doing exactly this. He groans and sighs, “Not sure I can go again yet,” he says teasing you. You both know he can. He may be a little soft in the middle now but he still has his stamina. And his appetites. Legendary appetites. “They say sex is good cardio,” you tease back, licking slowly up the underside of his cock, making him throb. “Indeed?” he says, hissing through his teeth, “Well... That changes things, doesn’t it.”

And as you got to work, there was no more time for words. Your husband had a lot to make up for and you were going to make sure he did it. To the fullest extent of his abilities. 

Tags: @lancsnerd, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @stevieang, @blameitonthecauseway

[sunflowergrenades]

A Mile in My Shoes: Chapter One

Tears gathered in the wide eyes of the little green skinned girl as her bottom lip quivered violently. She searched her friends' faces for a hint that they were joking but she was coming up blank.

"Why can't I come with you, Yuki? I'm your friend too, right?"

"We're gonna be inside today. You're too loud and wild. My mom gets mad at me every time you come over." the blue haired girl replied, rolling her eyes.

Hana took a step forward, clenching the stuffed orca in her arms tightly "I'll do better this time! I'll -."

"You always say that! Just go home, Hana. You'll just get in the way."

The other two girls began laughing as Hana's tears poured down faster and she ran off in shame. Her scrawny legs carried her as far as they could to her apartment. As the door swung open, it collided with the wall heatedly which drew her mother’s attention from the kitchen. Hina sighed deeply as her oldest child looked up from his phone with a biting glare.

“If that little shit doesn’t quit making my baby sis cry, I’m gonna -!”

“Stand down. I got this. You just keep my soup from burning.” his mother instructed before going into the living room to find her only daughter curled up on the couch.

“Why am I so annoying?” Hana whimpered into her knee as she trembled under Hina’s loving touch.

“Says who? Yuki Watanabe? That kid is a spoiled brat. Her mommy and daddy can buy her anything but some damn manners.”

“No one at school likes me because I’m so hyper. I try to keep in it but I can’t.”

“And you shouldn’t have to! You’re hilarious, Jellybean! You’re so much fun. You keep me and your brother rolling with laughter. We won’t change anything.”

Hana stayed curled up in her dejected ball until Hina laughed softly. She looked up a little at her mother to see that she was looking at the television. They rarely watched the news but it must have come on while they were cooking. A rescue was going on the screen with a hero she’d never seen before. With his orca features and large frame, he quickly got the attention of little Hana who was wiping the last few tears from her eyes.

“Who’s that hero, Mama?”

“His name’s Gang Orca. I figured you’d like him because you’ve always been into weird stuff.” Yosuke replied from behind the couch.

Hina scoffed as she looked back, “You let my soup burn and I’m tossing you into it, little troll.”

“Cool your jets. I turned it down.”

“That’s what I want to do when I grow up!” Hana exclaimed unexpectedly as she got to her feet.

“What, burn soup? You’re already good at that, JB.” Yosuke teased.

“Huh? No! I meant what he’s doing on T.V! I wanna do that!”

“You want to be a pro hero?” Hina asked, sitting forward with her hands on her cheeks. “Well, you'd be super interesting to watch, that’s for sure.”

“Seriously? Hana, a hero? She’s too goofy. She’s not cut out for -. What am I worrying for? You change your mind every five minutes. You wanted to be an astronaut two days ago.” Yosuke grumbled as he returned to the kitchen.

“Don’t listen to your brother, Sunlight. He’s just mad that his grades aren’t good enough to get into U.A’s support class program.”

“Can’t hear you over the sound of me throwing this soup into the yard!”

“You brat, your laptop’ll follow it out there!” she screamed as she jumped over the back of the sofa to go save her food from her son’s bitterness.

Hana giggled softly as she turned her attention back to the news broadcast. Yeah, being a hero would be awesome. But heroes always had costumes and stuff, right? She pursed her lips for a second in thought before running down the hallway and getting her crayons. Who better than to design an outfit for her Quirk than her.

Time flies when you’re having fun and the hyper seven year old soon turned into a bouncy fifteen year old. To her brother’s astonishment, Hana’s hero dream never burned out like the others. Planning her campaign for president only lasted a week and it was one of the longest run schemes that she had. Despite thinking this was a dim-witted plan, he still determined to make sure that his rambunctious sibling didn’t repeat her bad habit of sleeping through her alarms.

“Hey, are you up yet?”

Hana, who was currently wrapped up in her fuzzy pink blanket, groaned loudly without making any movement. She was absolutely not planning on getting out of this criminally comfortable bed. The deep-toned but noticeably annoyed voice from the bottom of the stairs clearly disagreed with that plan.

"Some hero you are! You can’t even make it to school on time!"

That got a quick reaction as Hana popped up and promptly fell out of her bed with an undignified squawk. Once finally unraveling from her warm cocoon, she darted to the closet to get her clothes and found that her uniform had rudely fallen to the floor. As she dusted it off, she ran to the bathroom and hung it on the back of the door. She quickly brushed her teeth, ruffled her onyx pixie cut with her fingers for some texture, and put in her silver star earrings. She raked her long bang out of her face as she inspected her face for imperfections.

As she got herself presentable, the oldest Ishikawa child stuck two pieces of bread into the toaster before fastening up the Gang Orca lunch on the counter and putting in that ragged, ugly pink backpack with unicorns all over that his sister refused to replace for some reason. Surely, it should be qualified for retirement after all these years, right?

But Hana wasn't one to throw out much of anything. She was the textbook definition of a sentimental fool. Yosuke wasn't exactly sure where she had even picked up that habit but she was almost religious about keeping anything close to 'important'. 

“Hana! Move it or lose it, runt!" he yelled again as he put some strawberry jam on the nearly burnt toast.

"Don't call me a runt, jerk face. I already told you that everyone else is just too tall!" she shouted from upstairs.

He heard something crash its way down the stairs with a loud bang and sighed deeply. "What was that?"

"My shirt!"

"That was way too damn heavy to be a damn shirt." he huffed back, looking at his phone.

As she came around the corner, she was hopping on one foot attempting to tie a glittery silver tennis shoe while standing. "Well, I was still wearing it."

He rolled his eyes before grabbing her leg mid-hop which nearly sent her to the floor. He put the sole of her shoe on his leg and started tying it for her. She wrinkled her nose in frustration, to which he replied with a thump to the forehead.

"You're gonna break your damn neck." he scolded.

"You worry too much. I'm tough enough to handle whatever life throws at me." she scoffed back proudly.

Yosuke looked at his younger sibling with overwhelming skepticism. At an unimpressive five feet tall, puberty had seemingly forgotten to visit the poor girl. She was thin as a rail and still had a baby face with a button nose and big sapphire eyes. All that paired with her narrow frame, small breasts, and a high pitched voice, no one ever believed she was actually her age.

"Whatever you say, kid." He sighed as he gave her the toast and held out her backpack.

She shoved a piece of her breakfast halfway into her mouth, slung her bag onto her shoulder, and headed to the door.

"What? No 'thank you'?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow at her.

"Toast could have been darker honestly." she said, shrugging lightly.

"You can't just eat charcoal, Jellybean."

She blushed slightly, pink lighting up her mint green skin. "I told you to quit calling me that!"

"But you're small, cute, and eat nothing but candy. You're our little jellybean and always will be. It's better than that shit you used to call me."

"And that's my cue to leave." She scoffed as she opened the door.

"Have fun today, JB. I gotta work late tonight so you'll be having way more fun than me." he called out as he waved to her.

"Yikes. Better you than me. Don't forget your wallet this time." she said, exiting the apartment.

"Got it. Love you, brat."

The door clicked but immediately swung back open so she could yell back "Love you too." before finally leaving.

She wasn't sure what she did to get such bad karma but she deeply regretted whatever it was because now she was sprinting to class as fast as she could. She had missed the first bus and had to wait for the second one, so she was even more late now. As she ran, she tried to finish putting the shoe that had fallen off when she tripped down the stairs a moment ago. Seriously, what was gravity's problem today?

She finally reached the door and straightened herself up before grabbing the knob. Opening the door to the classroom, she was greeted by the very unhappy face of her home room teacher.

“Morning, Mr. Aizawa.” she mumbled, ducking her head like an anxious pup.

“Nice of you to join us, Ishikawa.” he sighed deeply. "Now as I was saying, you'll be wearing the hero outfits based on the designs you submitted."

Hana immediately lit up and the second they could get their outfits, she pushed her way to the first and snatched the case with her seat number on it. As she ran off excitedly, Ashido looked at Tokoyami who was shaking his head slightly. He was her designated best friend since the first day of school so he usually ended up playing translator for the jittery girl.

"You'll have to forgive Ishikawa's impatience." He lamented. "From my understanding, she designed that outfit when she was a little girl and she's been talking about it all week."

"That's actually sort of adorable." Ashido tittered.

"I'm honestly curious to see what she’s created." Tokoyami replied, grabbing his own case and leaving the room.

As the upcoming heroes stepped out in their new costumes, Hana couldn't stop smiling and looking down. It was perfectly in line with her drawing.

The black one piece had a turtleneck and featured a cutout of a sun around her belly button. Squiggly cuts around it made the rays. The holes for her legs were cut high and displayed part of her hips. It laid her skinny shoulders bare and was visibly backless with only her backside covered. Her shoes were simple black ballet flats with a thick ribbon around either ankle. Her hands were covered up by a pair of yellow finger-less gloves. Finally, her eyes were protected by a square, yellow visor that faintly resembled work safety glasses. For added flair, she'd topped the outfit with a headband with a yellow over-sized bow that poked up like bunny ears.

She glanced over at Midoriya and giggled as she waved her hand at him eagerly. "Hey, Deku! Look! We match!" She said, pointing from her bow to his suits 'ears'.

He blushed slightly and nodded. "Y-yeah, I guess we do, huh?"

If Bakugou’s crimson eyes could use his quirk, Ishikawa would have exploded three times by now. They were digging into the back of her head. Hana seemed to feel his eyes on her and looked over her shoulder to see him glaring at her unapologetically.

Ah, yes. Bakugou and his famous attitude. She'd managed to be at least on speaking terms with all her classmates. The exceptions were Todoroki who gave her the cold shoulder (pun absolutely intended) and the furious blonde. Every single time she got the least bit friendly with Bakugou, he’d buck like a wild stallion. What he didn't realize was that his bitterness only made it more fun for his ridiculously headstrong classmate. He'd made the mistake of making it a game and she wasn't about to lose.

"Like my outfit?” she asked, twirling around jubilantly.

He scoffed and looked away from her. The answer was… maybe? It was admittedly a cool design. She needed a lot of skin showing to make her Quirk work its best but something extremely revealing would have been out of character for her. She had figured out how to balance the modesty she needed with the design her power required on his own? That was kind of cool. She still looked like a little brat though. That was probably less about the outfit and more about that silly grin plastered on her face.

"Well, I love yours!" She said. "The grenades are super badass."

His eyes widened slightly as he looked back at her slightly. Why was she suddenly complimenting him? She usually spent the majority of her time teasing and provoking him. Their bickering sessions started from the first day at U.A. Bakugou was at his desk with his feet propped up as he insulted pretty much anything that moved when petite little Hana walked by.

As soon as she walked by, he noticed her stockings had cat faces on them. Naturally, he scoffed loudly. "When did they start letting little kids take classes here?"

She stopped mid-step and looked over her shoulder. "About the same time they started letting in annoying jackasses."

"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY, YOU SHRIMP?"

She spun around and slammed her hands on his desk as she tilted her head to the side. He raised an eyebrow at her. Was this girl actually going to try and pick a fight?

Never breaking eye contact, she smiled jeeringly as she replied, "Oh, I'm sorry. Let me say it a little louder for you. You're acting like a jackass."

"Keep running that mouth and I'll hang our tiny ass from the ceiling!"

"Sweetie, you'd have to catch me first." she scoffed, poking his nose playfully.

Midoriya, who was watching this train wreck from behind the wall, exhaled deeply. It was their first day and Kacchan was about to commit a felony. Sure enough, the blonde went off and threw around some interestingly detailed threats.

She stood there taking his insults with a genuinely amused look on her face until he took a step toward her. She closed her eyes as her body emitted a blinding yellowish white light. Bakugou covered his eyes and stumbled back a little.

"SHIT, WHAT THE HELL, YOU LITTLE -!"

"My name is Hana Ishikawa." she replied, calmly as if she didn't just flash-bang the entire class. "Nice to meet you. Don't worry, the burning stops after 30 seconds."

With that, she skipped to her seat and sat down. Midoriya watched cautiously as Bakugou rubbed his stringing eyes and growled loudly. From that moment forward, every time they made eye contact, someone usually got detention.

All Might was the teacher today and Hana couldn't stop laughing at just how electrified Midoriya was. She was pretty excited too, but she was always that way about something. She was the kind of person who sat by the mailbox when her package was out for delivery and cheered for the mailman when he showed up.

What really tickled her was how pumped up Bakugou got when the words 'combat training' came out of All Might's mouth. It got an actual giggle out of her.

"Ishikawa will be with Todoroki on team B."

"Yay! Dude, I'm so excited. I love your dad. He's my second favorite pro!" Hana shouted out loudly as she bounced up and down.

Todoroki immediately rolled his eyes at her joyful reaction. Why did he have to get stuck with the class crazy lady? It was going to be a long day.

The first teams up were "villains" Bakugou and Iida vs Midoriya and Uraraka. The other other students were watching from a secondary location on a big screen. Things were already off to a bad start because Bakugou clearly had no intention of listening or cooperating. Like now, for example, he'd run off to find Midoriya and 'deal' with him, despite Iida's blatant disapproval.

"Well, I see Baku is doing whatever Baku wants and I'm sure you're all as shocked as I am." Hana said with a sarcastic tone as she put another strawberry pocky stick in her mouth.

"What is he thinking?" Tokoyami asked, shaking his head. "He's being completely irrational."

"Honestly, Yami, I'm guessing there's not much really going on in that head of his." Hana replied.

On the screen, Bakugou found his prey and was currently doing everything in his power to stomp him into the dirt. Asui made a comment about him being a good villain which unexpectedly grabbed Hana's attention.

"Whoa, that's a little harsh, Froggy."

Bakugou had lost track of Midoriya who had run away for his safety. Even through a screen, his hatred was almost visible in the air.

"That doesn't seem villainous to you?" Todoroki asked, pointing at the screen where Bakugou was apparently screaming some heavy threats at Deku as he searched for him.

"Look, I'm not justifying it but there's clearly something going on there that we don't know."

"Like what?" he asked flatly.

"Heck, I don't know! I'm not a therapist. Everyone's got a demon or two in them though, right?" She replied quickly.

Tokoyami looked over at her slightly and noticed that her eyes were locked on the blonde with a look of what seemed to be growing curiosity.

"Gotta admire his determination though. Even if his cheese has completely slid off his cracker."

"I think you're being naïve." Todoroki said under his breath.

Her eyes suddenly widened as she looked over at him slightly. Her hands balled into fists slowly by her sides.

"I'm sorry? Did I ask for your opinion on my personality?"

"With one as spastic as yours, you should be used to it."

"Spastic?! Listen, I don't -!"

"You'll kill him!"

All Might's thunderous voice made her jump as her eyes shot back to the screen. They quickly widened as Bakugou's hand ripped the pin from his grenade gauntlet with wild abandon.

"Dude, what are you doing?" She asked under her breath.

"How about now, Ishikawa? Does murder count as 'villainous'?" Todoroki scoffed.

"Seriously, Baku? Pull yourself together." She whispered, mostly to herself.

Midoriya used his Quirk to destroy several floors at once and Bakugou looked as if he'd seen a ghost. No, that wasn't enough to describe the level of horror in those wide ruby eyes.

Hana didn't see that uncommon expression as she walked to the back of the room and pulled out another pocky stick. She munched on it as she let her forehead rest on the cold metal wall. The thought of everyone watching her mess up was making her stomach queasy.

"Is everything alright? You seem a bit bothered by what just happened." Tokoyami asked from behind him.

She sighed deeply and painted her smile on her face, but it didn't hold anything close to genuinely positive. "Nah, I'm okay. Just a little performance anxiety. That's all."

"Well, it's our turn so I would try to shake those nerves if I were you." Todoroki stated while walking by.

"Sure thing, Ace." She mumbled as she followed.

She wasn't entirely sure she could handle much more of Todoroki's bitterness today but for the sake of the assignment, she was willing to try. At least, she was before they actually got to the building.

"You stay here. You'll only get in the way."

Her heart started banging on her rib cage angrily as his words unlocked a door in the back of her mind. Once again, she was just a little eight year old on the playground with her feelings on her sleeve. No, no more. Never again. Her teeth grit painfully as she ran to catch up with Todoroki. She grabbed his arm but he quickly shrugged her off.

"What are you doing?" He asked as he looked back at her.

"Just because your dad is a pro doesn't mean that you get to talk down to me like that! I'm a big fan of your dad's but I'm not just going to let you -."

"Let's just focus on the assignment, alright?" He interrupted before continuing toward the building. "You and I aren't on the same level. It's for your benefit that you stay down here."

As he disappeared into the entrance, she growled under her breath. Get in the way? No, she worked like crazy to get here! Some little rich kid wasn't gonna tell her what to do. It was sunny today so her Quirk was working wonderfully. The more sunlight, the more useful she was.The others watched as she created a yoga ball sized orb in between her hands. She processed to climb on top of it as it floated up to the window. Hana had a tendency to whatever she wanted, especially when told not to do something. While that attitude could bring interesting results at times, it also meant that despite her friendly attitude, Hana's teamwork skills were completely terrible.

She attempted to jump to her target window but the ball slipped out from under her. She gasped loudly as she clung to the ledge forcefully.

"I swear if I fall, my ghost is gonna haunt you, Ace!"

"I can't watch! Tell me when she's made it." Uraraka said, covering her eyes with worry.

"I like her fearlessness but that cooperation could use some serious improvement." All Might mumbled as he watched her finally climb through the window.

Her target barely even had time to notice her before the floor froze solid. Ice raced up her legs only to stop mid calf. She stared at it for a moment with rage boiling ever faster in her veins.

"I told you to stay outside for a reason."

She was visibly shaking with anger but was breathing in deeply. Tears stung her eyes as she bent down to melt the ice from her legs

"Man, I won't ever want Ishikawa to look at me the way she's looking at Todoroki right now." Kaminari laughed under his breath.

"She's normally so laid back." Asui noted.

"She's probably feeling a little embarrassed. She went through all of that effort for nothing. That's a bit of an ego bruiser, don't you think?" Tokoyami said, looking at the currently fuming Hana.

Bakugou rolled his eyes but didn't say anything. His eyes wandered up to the screen and he noticed that as the ice melted off her legs, she crossed her arms and stormed out of the room. He was having a shitty day to say the least but for some reason, that little pouty march of shame of hers made him laugh.

Okay, maybe not laugh laugh. Just that thing where you blow air out of your nose kinda hard in amusement? She came back into the room and noticed him staring a little. Her left hand came to rest on her hip as she tilted her head to the side.

"Hey there, Baku. You feeling better after all that? I know I always feel bushy-tailed after a homicidal rampage." She said, playfully.

"You expect me to believe a little runt like you can go on a rampage?" He huffed, looking away. "What do you do? Throw your toys?"

"Oh, my wittle heart!" She laughed as she threw her arm over her face dramatically. "You're so cruel to me, dude."

"You're just a pansy, Sunspot." He huffed.

He noticed that lazy, amused grin slowly spread back over her pastel face like butter on warm toast. The second he took a breath to ask what that stupid look was about, she cut him off.

"Sunspot? Seriously?" She snorted playfully. "Oh, I get it! Because of my yellow freckles across my face, right? Dude, that's actually kinda cute."

"Whatever, loser." He growled back at her, sulking over the fact that she made an intended insult into a damn pet name.

She bounced away to go talk to Uraraka. Now that she thought about it, maybe today wasn't all bad.

[monxcarat]

arranged wedding | GOT7  - Jinyoung

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

fandom: got7

pairing: jinyoung x reader

warnings: some cursing, some

                drinking, a lot of bad 

                parenting.

word count: 5090

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

From a very young age you learned that business were business and there wasn’t much you could do about it. In fact, while growing up, you came to realize that no matter how much you complained, disagreed and even cried, your family business decisions wouldn’t change.

You just never thought it would get to the point your personal life would also turn into business.

It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right, they should have talked to you first, there was no way you’d let that happen - all those thoughts and more, some not so polite, ran through your head. Who your parents thought they were? Did they really think they could decide on their kid’s future like that, being almost always away from home as you grew up, barely talking to you for weeks and then that?

You were sure you’d never been angrier at your parents - not when they forgot your thirteen year old birthday, not when they lied about your dog running away, not when they decided to send you to another school on your last year of high school and didn’t hear any of your arguments. Those stuff happened years ago, and as angry as you were at the time, you were now over it. And they now seemed too small and not important.

“What do you mean ‘stop complaining’? I won’t! You haven’t talked to me in weeks, do you even care how I’m doing? You suddenly invite me for dinner and I thought we would finally have some family time, when- when was the last time we had that?” you were furious, face hot and red, and you could feel your eyes starting to burn. You were doing your best to hold your tears back.

“Don’t act spoiled, y/n,” your father started, stern face as if you were disappointing him. “This is for the greater good, after months of meetings and serious analysis both his parents, your mother and I decided that it’ll be the best way to unify both companies-”

“I don’t wanna hear it! It’s not just business you’re talking about, it’s my-”

“Enough” your mom, who hasn’t said a thing till then, raised her voice “It’s not up for discussion anymore, and I’ll excuse your manners for now because you were taken by surprise.”

Under the gaze of both your parents, you found yourself speechless. You wanted to keep yelling, arguing, doing anything you could to make they understand your personal life wasn’t up for negotiation, and they couldn’t just decide on an arranged wedding like that, without even talking to you once. Swallowing, you turned your head, getting up from the diner table - the food you had earlier with your parents now left a bitter taste on your mouth. You grabbed your bag and moved to get your coat, wanting nothing more than go back to your home.

“I’m leaving” you announced, not looking back to your parents once.

You felt so, so, so stupid. You really went there thinking they missed having some family time, what a joke! You didn’t even know why you still bothered, it was always business for them, even their own child. Business, business, business. How much you hated that word!

Finally back home, you found yourself laying on your bed, starring at the ceiling. You were mad at your parents, mad at their so called business, mad for not being able to fight against their choices. It was your life, wasn’t it? Not theirs. Not theirs.

You were your own person.

You felt your eyes burning. You wouldn’t cry in front of your parents, knowing they’d only think of that as something childish, as a spoiled kid crying because things wouldn’t go their way, but now, alone on your room, you let yourself cry, tears running down your cheeks and hiccups leaving your mouth till you fell asleep.

**

Despite all your refusal, a month and a half later you found yourself once again with your parents, wearing clothes too posh for your liking and with a sour expression on your face. You hadn’t agreed with them or forgiven them, of course, but you were tired. Talking to your parents... It was just like talking to a wall. And so you decided to act the same way, not talking to them at all.

It was a party held by one of the associates of both your parent’s company and the other company, full of business people just like you hated. The place was pretty, of course, a very clean salon with glass walls that lead to a well kept garden - the green outside striked to the minimalistic white decoration inside and it was much more pleasing to look at than the bright lights that made everything inside even more white. Your own red shoes constrasted angrily with the polished floor, mentally noting that you decided you liked that very much.

You heard footsteps getting closer, and as you looked at your own feet you saw three pairs of shoes stopping in front of the small group that consisted of your parents and yourself. A few words were exchanged before your mom pinched your sides, a clear way of her telling you to lift your head and look at the family - also consisting of three people - in front of you. With clothes equally as posh and expensive, the other two people that had no regard for their child personal life and choices, as well as the fact that no matter what your kid is not an object or some type of barter that they could use to get contracts with other company smiled at you, and you barely answered with a curt nod before your mom pinched you again, making you put up a fake smile and properly greet them.

Behind them stood a man you only knew the name - the fancy clothes suited him too well, and with his dark hair parted to the side and bearing a polite smile on his lips, you knew that was the person in same situation as you. Until that moment you hadn’t felt any anger towards the son of the owners of the other company, knowing that life all too well you were sure he also had no saying in this. You felt some type of sympathy, maybe you hoped you two could form some type of alliance to put an end to this arranged marriage thing, but when Park Jinyoung looked at you, the polite smile nowhere to be seen and eyes colder than ice, as if he blamed you for everything that was happening, everything you previously felt about him turned into anger.

The four business people responsible for the utter anger and dread you’ve been feeling for the past month were talking between themselves, as always ignoring both you and Jinyoung in absolute silence when he put that stupid polite smile on his face again, lightly touching his father’s shoulder.

“I’ll have to excuse myself” he bowed slightly to both his and yours parents. His mother then, with the same polite smile on her face, nodded with her head, telling him to go.

“You see,” his father started, proudly “Jinyoung told us he wanted to talk to some of our associates himself, and this gathering came in perfect time. He thinks the relaxed atmosphere will make it easier for them to listen to him, since he is so young, and I agreed with that, so forgive me for he won’t be present as we discuss about that.”

“Non sense!” your father moved his hand as the four of them started walking towards a table, you silently moving right behind “It’s good for him to do that, he needs to be involved in his family business! Besides, Y/N is here, one of them is enough to be up to whatever we decide.”

You stopped listening after that, your stomach turning and making you feel like throwing up. It was really like that. You were just an asset, something to do what a bunch of greedy business people decided without arguing or voicing your opinion. And now, after meeting the person you were supposed to - yikes - marry, you knew you were alone in this, there was no way you could stop this arranged marriage on your own.

Your anger was starting to be covered up with something even worse: hopelessness.

The decisions and agreements about your and Park Jinyoung’s “relationship” were barely heard by you - maybe you should’ve listened to them, to know what they were up to and perhaps try to change something, but you just didn’t had it in you at the moment. Instead, you spent the excrucitating hours on that table drowning drink after drink, only opening your mouth to forcedly smile or answer something about yourself when your parents glared at you. They would give you so much shit about your manners later.

When you noticed their discussion finally drifting onto subjects that had nothing to do with arrenged marriages or relationships, you got up at once, the glass of whatever drink you had now still half filled.

“I’m leaving,” you managed say firm and loud enough so the four of them paid attention to you.

“Y/N-” your father started, eyebrows furrowed. No, no, you wouldn’t get scolded here.

“Forgive me for for my manners, I’m still quite nervous about this whole situation.” the sarcasm on your words was subtle, but it was enough to momentainly satisfy you. You gave them a smile before bowing and said “Excuse me.”, finally leaving that damned table.

You weren’t really sure of what to do now, and only after walking around for a few minutes you realized how tipsy you already were. Maybe you could lock yourself in a bathroom stall and play on your phone until the party was over? Maybe you could call a cab to take you back home? Either way your parents would be pissed, but it’s not like you cared much for that.

You were almost deciding on going to the bathroom when you saw him, Park Jinyoung, with his fancy clothes and parted hair, talking with two other men. You suddenly felt angry again, and your tipsyness only made you braver than you already were, so before you could even give a second thought, you started making your way to the trio talking in the garden.

Before you reached them, you looked at your shoes on the grass. You didn’t like how red and green looked together - it was too bright, too chaotic. Good.

You furrowed your eyebrows and left out an annoyed breathe.

“You!” moving as fast as you could on your lightheaded state and pushing through the other two men, you pointed your finger at your fiance-to-be. His expression, previously stone cold, were now slightly annoyed. Good.

“I don’t care what you think about this whole situation, Park Jinyoung-”

“Jinyoung, who is this?” one of the men asked, interrupting you. You didn’t like that.

“It’s no one-” Jinyoung started.

“I just want you to know” you raised your eyes and looked right onto his eyes “That I wanted to be here as much as you did. And heavens know how much I wish I was ‘no one’.”

You didn’t give him time to react, already turning on your heels to get as far from him as you could. Annoying bastard, did he think you choose that? To be forced to marry someone you didn’t even know? Did he think it was your idea? Annoying, annoying, annoying.

Your steps were angry and determinated when you reached the bathroom, hearing the loud sound of your shoes hitting the floor with every moment on the first empty space you saw on that party. You realized you needed some time alone.

Throwing some cold water on your face, not caring for make up or anything, you took a deep breath. How much you wished to be no one right now.

**

“I... I really don’t know what to say. That... Sucks I guess? It sucks a real lot...?”

“Thank you, Mark. I appreciate it.” your answer came out more sarcastic than you meant, but neither you or Mark paid attention to it. You sighed loudly before shoving as much popcorn as you could on your mouth, not really interested on whatever was playing on the TV anymore.

You met Mark on your last year of high school, that year when your parents decided that they would send you to another school really far from where you used to go without even asking you about it. They were great at communication, as always. He was a really quiet kid back then, and so were you on the first weeks, when you knew no one and were too angry to bother knowing anyone. But then fate, also known as group projects, ended up pairing you with Mark Tuan, a quiet guy you didn’t even know was in your class, and Jackson Wang, loud and remarkable from day one.

You three became inseparable then.

They made that year fun and you even forgave your parents for that, you weren’t sure if you ever made friends as great as them. And years after graduating you were still as close, even if you couldn’t see each other everyday because of personal lives and adult responsibilites - hence why it was only you and Mark today, as Jackson was busy, travelling to deal with some of his fencing stuff. How much cooler than a corporate heir life is an athlete life?

“Hey! Hey, Y/N!” Mark had turned off the TV and seemed to have already called you a few times.

“Shit, sorry, I wasn’t listening. What do you need?”

“Yea, I noticed that.” he gave a light chuckle “We’re gonna think of something, ok? Jackson, you, and I, we can meet when he gets back and try to make a plan. Your parents can’t force you to marry that guy.”

“Thing is, babe, they can.”

Mark said nothing after that, neither did you.

“Shit, look at the time, I gotta go” you grabbed your stuff quickly, saying goodbye to Mark at the door. He had a worried look on his eyes, but you assured him you were fine.

Not really, but you would be.

**

The following morning was chilly, and you were to supposed to meet Park Jinyoung at 8:30am. It was already 9:15am.

You two were supposed to meet frequently now, to get to know each other and slowly show your - nonexistent - relationship to the public. And you were already 45 minutes late and Jinyoung’s patience was already 45 points lower.  

When you finally showed up and mumbled a quick apology for being late, Jinyoung only moved his head, still not saying a word. To be honest, he felt a bit ashamed for being rude to you at first, of course the arranged marriage wasn’t your fault, of course you also had no saying in the decision and of course you too weren’t happy, he was also a bit angry at your drunk outburst at that party - angry at himself maybe, for stupidly blaming you. But after overthinking in the past days, he concluded he was mostly ashamed at his own behavior.

And now you two were walking around in a terrible awkward silence.

Anyone looking at your faces could see none of you wanted to be there, the stiffness on Jinyoung’s walk, the annoyed expression on your face, never that you two would pass off as a couple.

The whole morning passed without many words, after walking around for some minutes you two talked to each other for the first time only to agree to enter a coffee shop and drink something hot to help warm up. The atmosphere between you two was painfully awkward until the end, when each of you finalle got into your cars and went back to your own lives.

This routine kept going on for weeks, the silent walks and annoyance on both your faces, no matter what place you two were going - coffee shops, galleries, fancy restaurants - sometimes with both your parents, sometimes just the two of you, accompanied with bored answers and comments about whatever had previously been decided about your relationship -, and even a museum once. Finally, after a long time that seemed longer because of the atmosphere between you two, Jinyoung finally had the courage to properly talk to you.

“Y/N.” he started with a firm voice that sounded less confident as he continued talking. “Y/N, I owe you an apology. That first day I blamed you and... I know it’s not your fault, it never was, I had no reason for that. You don’t have to accept it, but I am sorry for that. Truly.”

You looked attentively at him, eyes fixated on his face and raised eyebrows.

“It took you long enough.”

After that, things between you started getting less awkward, and little by little you two started talking. You weren’t really close, of course, and there was still some type of grudge held against each other’s family, but none of you blamed the other at this point. Maybe with more time and some help, you two would de able to find the best way out of that arrangment.

**

Time seemed to fly, but it also seemed to move slowly - like it was swimming on something even more sticky than honey. For how long had everything been going on, anyway?

In between all the many events you two had to attend, Jinyoung and you learned to bear each other’s presence and sometimes even enjoy it - and your talks evolved to more than twenty words. You learned that he liked white, and he learned that you liked red. You told him about the dog you had as a child, and he told you about how at some point he dreamed of being a pre-school teacher. You two realized your taste in movies, books and even food was more similar than you’d ever think. One time, late at night before going to sleep, you caught your mind wandering about Park Jinyoung and how you two could have been close if you had met under different circunstances, a lot closer.

Jinyoung had, unbeknownst to you, thoughts like that too. When you first met he was mad, and then things got awkward and now they were getting better and he realized he really liked that. He had no need to be the always prim and proper heir Jinyoung, he could be just Jinyoung, but it wasn’t only that. Being with you was easy because of there was no need to keep an image, of course, but it was also genuinely good.

Not that different from the schedule you two shared lately, that night you had a dinner planned with the companies’ partners. Each of you arrived with your family and greeted the people present, who were, presumably, families just like yours and Jinyoung’s. Of course, Jinyoung didn’t know everyone there to assume they all would be capable of architect their children’s lives like they were just another marketing plan, but knowing that life all too well, he knew most of them were capable of doing that.

With an annoyed sigh, Jinyoung put his usual polite smile on his face and after some words, finally left the small conversation group his parents had dragged him in. The dinner was being held in a pretty place, the warm golden color, predominant everywhere, gave it a rich aura, just like the fancy chandeliers. It was suffocating, though - a wasteful beauty, he concluded.

After a few minutes he found you boredly looking out of a window and decided to approach you, propping his elbows on the windowsill as he stopped by your side.

“So, what’s so interesting about this empty street?”

“Nothing much,” you scrunched you nose, voice sounding as bored as the expression on your face “But I heard something interesting.”

“Shoot it.”

“Apparently Mr. Nam and his wife were cheating on each other and their oldest daughter found out some days ago.”

“Oh. That... really is something.”

“Right?” you both still were looking at the empty street, that really had nothing much to see besides the walls of the neighboring buildings and the night sky. “It seems like we’ll have some drama going on on the next dinners. Wanna bet how long it’ll take for them to divorce?”

“That’s low. But Mr. Nam really is an ass.” you both looked at each other and chuckled a bit louder than the tone you two used to talk, earning a few glares from the people around. That made you two chuckle a bit more. “I’ll pass though.”

“Boring!” you and Jinyoung finally looked at each other, closer than you’ve ever been “Wanna play a game to kill time?”

With your eyes looking at his that close, Jinyoung thought he’d agree with pretty much anything without even thinking twice.

The game consisted of choosing a theme and saying a words related to it in alphabetical order. Pretty silly, but there really wasn’t much to do there.

“Gerbil”

“Horse”

“Iguana”

“Jinyoung”

“Koa- My name doesn’t fit the theme, you lost.”

“Jinyoung, I was calling your name.”

“Oh.” you were having fun with his distraction, laughing a bit while putting your phone down to look at Jinyoung again.

“One of my friends is throwing a birthday party today and another friend can drive us there, I’m sure it won’t be as boring as here. Wanna ditch this dinner?”

Jinyoung accepted without thinking twice.

No more than a couple of minutes later your friend was waiting for you two down the street. You left the party without saying anything to anyone, and Jinyoung wasn’t sure if anyone even noticed you leaving - as it seemed, not everyone was as bored with that dinner as you two.

You introduced your friend when you reached the car. Jinyoung had heard of him before, you mentioned Mark Tuan as one of your best friends, and Jinyoung had the vague memory of him from business dinners and parties and even from a few of summer courses he remembered going when he was younger. Corporate heirs seemed to have pretty similar lives, and it seemed like the world was pretty small.

“Hey.” Mark said quickly, with some type of look on his face. He looked at Jinyoung - who suddenly felt a bit uncomfortable - and then at you. You waved your hand as you entered the car.

“It’s okay Mark, I told you. We’re okay now.”

“If you say so.”

You sat on the front seat and Jinyoung on the back, a song he didn’t know was already playing on the radio and he spent most of the way to the party looking out of the window. You did most of the talk, easily making sure both he and Mark said something from time to time. The ride wasn’t that unconfortable, and Mark wasn’t giving Jinyoung looks when he left the car.

“Wait a minute,” you put your hand on Jinyoung’s shoulder, motioning for him to lower his head. You hands moved quickly on his hair, messing the parted hairstyle he always had. “It was too formal. And this kinda messy hairstyle suits you... I think.”

“Ah, thank yo-”

“You guys are gonna move or...?” Mark interrupted Jinyoung, and he now had an amused expression on his face.

“Yes, we’re getting in now!” you answered quickly, shooting Mark a glare.

Inside the place was dark, iluminated only by colorful lights and a loud, hyped music played in the background - much different from the dinner you two were before. It seemed to be a more private thing, and almost everyone there seemed to know each other. The atmosphere there was much more welcoming than the one at the dinner, as weird as it could seem.

Once again you introduced Jinyoung to your friends and aquaintances there, including the host of the birthday party, a guy with dyed red hair called Younghyun. It wasn’t hard to talk and have fun with them, Jinyoung noticed, he was actually enjoying himself and feeling comfortable around people he had just met.

As time went by, he started feeling a bit dizzy from the drinking and hot from moving around too much, so Jinyoung decided to sit down on a sofa that was already half occupied by a guy he didn’t really remember the name deep asleep. At some point you went dancing with your friends and Jinyoung hadn’t seen you since then, having gotten distracted by games and talking with other people. After closing his eyes for a few seconds, he pushed his hair back ad unbottoned the first buttons of his shirt, longing to feel a bit refreshed.

Then, after minutes just looking up without doing much, Jinyoung looked around and noticed the state of the other guests. The birthday boy, Younghyun, was passed with other two people he remembered you calling Chan and Sana, all three on top of each other on a sofa that barely fit two people. In front of them, Jaehyung and Nayeon were laughing loudly and snapping pictures of everything. Not so far from them, another group formed by Sungjin, Mina, Woojin and Dahyun sang a drunken redemption of Barbie Girl accompanied by a guitar. And then finally looking at you, dancing with Mark and other guy - Jackson, probably? You did mention that he was your best friend along with Mark and had recently came back from a trip -, laughing and smiling all through it, and you looked stunning doing so, being carefree, having fun and genuinely enjoying something for once. Of course, your hair and clothes were messy after all that time on the party, but there was something about you that made it impossible for Jinyoung to stop looking at you with a stupidly soft smile on his face, and a small voice on his head wondered about how nice it would be to be by your side like that.

You knew Jinyoung was looking at you.

You locked eyes with him and kept dancing and smiling, behind you, Jackson was his usual loud self and Mark was distracted dancing with someone else, and you decided that you were getting tired of dancing and wanted to sit down. Your feet were starting to hurt anyway.

“Hey” Jinyoung said as you got closer, smiling softly at you “Having fun dancing?”

“A lot. But I don’t feel like I can stand much longer.”

Quickly he scooted over, opening as much space on the sofa as he could while a guy slept next to him. You gladly sat down.

“So” you started “are you enjoying the party? Much better than that dinner, isn’t it?”

“Oh, it’s a tough decision, I think sitting for hours with my parents complaining about my shoes not being up to their taste would actually be really nice but-”

“Oh come on, just say it” you playfully hit his shoulder with yours.

“Fine, fine, the party’s been great. Your friends are nice and-”

“Told you so!”

“-it’s good to see you with them, it’s the first time I’ve seen you that happy.”

You felt something warm up inside you. It was funny to think Jinyoung noticed how happy or unhappy you were, a good funny that made you want to giggle.

“That’s kinda cute of you.” the words came out of your mouth before you could even process them, and it was Jinyoung’s turn to feel warm and funny.

The look on your faces was silly and both started to laugh after realizing that, when did being around each other became so confortable? And when did you two went from strongly disliking to... whatever was going on now?

The guy next to Jinyoung mumbled something in his sleep, startling him a bit. You, once again, thought it was cute.

The tiredness was getting to you and you decided to keep the mood between you two going on and rested your head on Jinyoung’s shoulder.

You still felt troubled, but a least a few things were finally starting to work out. You felt better than you had in ages that night - you noticed, closing your eyes for a bit.

You would be fine.

[aroseandapen]

Fish Bait {Part 1/?}

Read on AO3

Next (Coming)

Rating: Teen Pairing: Oumota Word Count: 5871 Summary: By chance, Kaito happens to come across a merman on his morning run. He still doesn't know if he's lucky for it or not.

The early morning chill crept up over his arms and raised goosebumps in its wake. Kaito jogged in place to keep himself warm as he ran through a mental checklist to make sure he had everything. Phone? Check. Keys? Check. Water bottle, despite the chilly air blowing in from the ocean? Check.

Shirt and shorts covering his body? Check. Not that he’d ever forgotten them, but the amount of nightmares around the subject kept him vigilant against it. Some things didn’t need a first-time experience.

With that, however, he was all set for his morning run. He blew on his hands to warm them up, then set off at a brisk pace down the his grandparents’ driveway and up the street. As he reached the end, he turned left around the corner and the view before him opened up to the beach, his usual destination. He enjoyed jogging along the coastline, kicking up sand with his heels and attempting to outrun the early lingering nighttime chill that hadn’t yet been chased away by the morning sun.  The cold air filled his lungs and invigorated him, the exhaustion of waking up so early falling away so that he felt energized and ready for the coming day.

He enjoyed the stillness of the coast at this time, when tourists hadn’t yet risen and very few people wandered the beach. The near silence save for the natural sounds of wind and waves brought peace to his heart as he run his usual route, down the long strip of sand at the water’s edge and past the pier. As he made to pass it by, however, movement caught his eye. He slowed to a stop, jogging in place to glance down toward the end of the pier.

Two fishermen stood at the very edge, not unusual in and of itself. He’d seen plenty of them both early in the morning and late at night, getting some fishing done before the sun rose too high or the beach-goers swarmed the pier and sand. Yet he could make out a large netted mass through the fog that hadn’t yet dissipated for the day, wriggling on the pier floor between them. He’d never seen such a huge fish before, at least in person although he knew theoretically that they could get pretty damn big depending on the species. He’d always figured that was something seen only in deep-sea fishing, not something a person could catch at a pier close to land. Curiosity burned inside of his chest; he had to investigate, and probably congratulate the two men on their catch. He started down the pier, his interest growing with each step.

As he drew within earshot, he opened his mouth to call out his questions and announce his arrival before he actually got to them. Yet as he did so, he got a better look at their catch, and it stopped him in his tracks, one foot still hovering in the air. His breath caught in his throat in disbelief. ‘What the hell’, he wanted to say, but he couldn’t form words. He opened his mouth, and no sound came out except for a quiet exhale.

“I eat people like you for breakfast, ya know! So you better not touch me if you know what’s good for you!” Upon drawing close enough to make out the details, Kaito saw that although it had a fish-like tail, the scales crept up over the skin of a strikingly human-shaped torso. It turned swiveled its head between the two men as it spoke, a wicked grin fixed onto its face. “I may look cute, but you know creatures like me are super strong and I could murder you without breaking a sweat.”

“It talks way too much; no one’s going to want a yapper. There’s probably a way to cut its vocal cords without killing it, and I know a guy who can do that,” one of the fisherman said, ignoring the half-fish person.

“No way. If the buyer wants it quiet, they can do it themselves. I don’t want to have to barter with someone over ‘damaged goods’. Put a gag on it. That’ll work well enough,” the other said, shaking his head with hands resting on his hips.

“Holy shit,” Kaito breathed out. Neither of the men had noticed him yet, and he was glad for it.

He couldn’t believe the shit the fisherman talked about. Even if the thing looked like something of myths or legends, the sort that lurked in the oceans and dragged sailors down to their watery deaths, the fishermen sounded downright insane talking about it. Although obviously intelligent enough to make speech, it might as well be mute for all the good it did. The fishermen didn’t acknowledge anything it said, casually talking about maiming and selling it as if discussing everyday business. Kaito vaguely wondered if they’d done this before. Found a creature like this… mermaid? It had to be a mermaid, but Kaito could hardly wrap his mind around the impossible idea of it.

Yes, impossible, such a thing couldn’t be real. Yet despite that, one lay right before him at the end of the pier.

“Geez, I’m not an ‘it’ you know, I’m a ‘he’,” the mermaid—merman?—said. He spoke with a childish tone, as if the fishermen were nothing more than an annoyance to him, but Kaito could detect a hint of fear in the waver of his voice. “I should kill you guys just for that. My friends will be here any moment you know and they’ll drag both of you down and murder you if you don’t let me go.”

The fishermen laughed at that. For the first time they addressed the merman himself, both wearing matching expressions of cruel amusement. One said, “We both know you creatures go solo. You’ll kill us if you get a chance, sure, but…” The speaker nudged him with the tip of his boot, withdrawing his leg the moment the merman took a swipe at it. “We’re not going to give you that.”

Kaito couldn’t just stand there watching this happen, but he also couldn’t just turn and continue his way down the beach. Real or not, human or weird fish person, he refused to let someone get tormented and sold and their vocal cords potentially ripped out. Not when he had the opportunity to save them, a chance encounter that had brought him across these two fishermen and a captured merman.

Did mermen truly kill humans like the fishermen claimed? Hell, did that even really matter? Kaito knew that the truth wouldn’t stop him from doing the right thing according to his gut.

So he made his decision. His very stupid, dumbass decision.

Feet thudding against the pier, Kaito bulled forward toward the figures. The sound of shoes thudding against the wood startled the fishermen. They spun in his direction, mouths parted as if to shout something at the intruder on their business, but too late. Bending down, his hands collided with the cold, smooth scales the merman’s tail and the rough-spun net entangling him. He shoved, hard. Something stung his hands as they slipped over the tail, making him hiss, but he didn’t have time to think about it.

The merman let out a sharp cry of alarm as he tipped and tumbled over the lip of the pier. Kaito grinned at the splash he made when he hit the water. Mission accomplished.

“Hey!”

“What the hell, kid, what’s your problem!”

Oops, no time to celebrate yet. He still had to move. Kaito jogged back a few steps, putting distance between the fishermen and preparing to make his quick escape. He offered an insincere grin of apology in response to their faces, equal parts shocked and enraged. “Sorry, just wanted to see what was going on, guess my hand slipped!” He laughed and spun on his heel. He hoped that the net somehow came loose when he pushed the merman, but he had no way to check and make sure now. “Sorry about that, but I gotta go, I’m running late!”

Propelled by the adrenaline coursing through him, he took off at a sprint back down the pier. The men shouted after him, but he didn’t look over his shoulder to see if they pursued him. He kept his eyes straight ahead and ran and ran, assuming that they were after him. He kept running until their voices were nothing but faint whispers swallowed up by the wind, until the sand beneath his feet turned into hard concrete. Even then, he refused to slow down.

By the time he returned to his grandparents’ house, he was gasping for air. His heart pounded harder than it ever had before, his limbs trembling with the excitement over what just happened. He stopped at the end of the driveway to catch his breath. Only then did he investigate his stinging palms. He winced.

Apparently, despite their smoothness when he’d first touched them, the merman’s scales were sharp as well. Both of his hands sported several cuts, the blood crusted over his palms from his mad dash from pier to house. They probably weren’t as bad as they looked for all the blood present, but he should probably get them cleaned up before his grandparents saw and made a big deal over it. He just needed to avoid letting his grandma see them. She normally rose shortly after Kaito left for his morning run. She liked to brew a pot of tea and sit at the rear-facing window to greet the morning sun with a steaming mug in her hands.

Normally he welcomed the sight. Something about seeing her, a blanket placed over her lap and the worn fluffy slippers on her feet that Kaito had gotten her for Christmas years ago, helped him wind down after a hard run. Right now, however, he didn’t want to have to try and make up an excuse for the cuts. Maybe he could say that he had fallen.

But looking at the cuts, they didn’t look like the sort of scrapes that someone would get in a fall. Maybe his grandma wouldn’t look too closely at them. It’d be best for her not to see them at all, he decided before slipping into the house.

He closed the door softly behind him and made a beeline for the bathroom. As he passed by the living room, he caught sight of those familiar fuzzy slippers and he sped up, disappearing into the hall.

Just as he did so, he heard his grandma’s amused voice call out after him, “Kaito? Where’s the fire?”

His heart thudded in his chest. Backing up a few steps, he poked his head just far out enough into the entryway so that he could grin into the living room at his grandma and keep his hands out of sight. “Hey! Just gotta… piss real bad is all. I don’t think I’ve run so fast in my life I needed to get home so bad,” he lied through his teeth. The accompanying laugh he gave sounded strained, but he hoped that could be explained by a desperate need to use the toilet.

His grandma shook her head. “No wonder you got home so quickly. You’re usually out until later,” she said, voice gently exasperated, yet a tiny smile formed on her lips. “Well, don’t let me keep you then, but I’d welcome your company out here if you’ve got some time to sit with an old woman after you finish your business.”

“Yeah of course! I’ll be out in just a sec!” he said, and ducked back down the hall.

Once the bathroom door locked behind him, he let out a sigh of relief. Now then. He turned on the bathroom sink, and ignored the pain when he stuck his hands under the running water. As he washed the blood away, he examined the cuts lining his palms. Not bad, but he hadn’t expected to get injured at all just from pushing some half-fish-mermaid creature into the water. At least he’d gotten away, and the mermaid had too. Probably. The netting might not unravel, and would leave him just as trapped as he’d been on the docks. At least he’d be in the ocean, though. Maybe some friends of his would come by and help him out.

Then Kaito remembered what one of those men had said. Mermaids were supposedly solitary creatures, according to them. In that case, he’d be on his own and no one would come to help him. Did Kaito just make things a whole lot worse? Did he knock him into the water and solidify his fate to starve to death without a way to swim free?

Not that he could do anything to help now. He just had to accept that he’d done all that he could and move on. Ignoring the guilt that still churned his insides, Kaito patted his hands dry and put some ointment on the cuts. A few adhesive bandages would work fine, he figured, and after that he’d be able to say that he fell and scraped his hands trying to catch himself with no problem. No one would question him if they couldn’t see the cuts themselves. Accidents happened.

Remembering the excuse he’d given his grandma, Kaito flushed the toilet. He let the water run and splashed it on his sweaty face. Once his reflection looked presentable enough, he shut off the sink and nodded to himself. Alright. All he had to do was not look like he was distracted with thinking about something fantastical that he’d witnessed on his run, and not worry his grandma about things that she didn’t have to. It was just any other day, any other morning spent chatting the hour before he had to get running to school away with her. He didn’t mess with some fishermen’s catch of a creature straight from a fairy tale.

Right, he had this.

…easier said than done.

He left the bathroom and, as promised, joined his grandma in the living room. As he spent time with her, she didn’t question him much nor did she seem to notice the bandages on his hands. At one point, she did remark that he seemed more distracted than usual, but Kaito lied and claimed that he hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before. It was a believable enough excuse, and she nodded in understanding and warned him not to stay up too late, to which he assured her that he wouldn’t. After having some tea, he got up again to get ready and head off to school. The trip there felt more like a dream, and he had no memory of the commute. Once in class, school droned on as he sat feeling trapped at his desk. He needed to get up and run or do something to exert some of the restless energy building up inside of it, but there was nothing to do for it but wait until the next break.

The boredom set in quickly, and the teacher’s words became a background track as his thoughts once again turned to his fantastical morning encounter.

Kaito had seen a mermaid. A real live mermaid, caught by fishermen and about to be dragged away and sold. Probably on a secret market he guessed, considering he’d never heard of such a thing and those men seemed to know what they were doing. Solo creatures likely, potential killers, something he should probably be grateful that he hadn’t met on his own in the middle of the ocean. Yet he couldn’t help but feel the bitter disappointment that he hadn’t been able to speak to it—to him, rather. It wasn’t every day that a highschool student saw a mermaid.

Yet he knew that there hadn’t been time for words. He’d had to act quickly, and either shove it into the water or scoop him up to run away from the pier with a sizable fish-tail-person combo floundering in his arms. With how the latter would slow him down and his palms still stung from the cuts he’d wrapped up that morning, the former seemed to be the wiser option. He didn’t even know whether the fishermen had chased him at all, but if he’d grabbed their catch then they surely would’ve pursued him in order to get it back.

He sighed, and tried to return his attention to class. The teacher was talking about some math problem written on the board, and a single glance told him that the lesson was a waste of his time. He’d learned about it on his own months ago. So knowing that he wasn’t missing anything important, Kaito allowed himself to zone out again, eyes absently traveling between the board ahead of him and the notebook pretending to take notes in.

He couldn’t stop thinking about that mermaid, and his ‘notes’ were a testament to that, filled with absent-minded doodles of mermaids filling the page. If only he had someone that he could talk to about it, just to get it out in the open. Maybe then he wouldn’t get so distracted as he’d been all day so far. Yet even if he did decide to confide in someone, there was no way that they’d ever believe him.

What was his name? Did mermaids even have names?

Classes continued to flit by, and Kaito didn’t remember any of it. By the time school began to reach its end, his doodles filled the pages of his notebook, and he still continued staring out into the space in front of him. He didn’t even register that the class had long since emptied out, leaving him alone to his relentless thoughts.

“Earth to Kaito Momota.”

The voice spoken right at his ear made him jump in his seat so hard that he banged his knees against the underside of his desk. He grunted, hunching over to rub at his knees as he shot an offended look at the person who’d startled him from his thoughts.

His expression softened immediately.

“Maki Roll, hey! What’s up?”

The only response he received initially was a sigh as the dark-haired girl straightened up from where she’d had her hands planted on his desk. She fixed him with a cold glare, as if he’d somehow inconvenienced her. He didn’t need to guess why she seemed annoyed; she’d likely tell him the exact reason in mere moments.

“What do you mean, ‘what’s up’? Are you planning on going home anytime soon, or are you just going to sit here staring at the board all night? You know I’m not going to wait for you if you decide to space out forever,” she scolded him, just as Kaito predicted she would.

Kaito glanced up at the clock. Shit, he couldn’t believe the school day had already ended. He didn’t even remember lunch. Did he have homework to do that night? The board had already been wiped clean; he’d have to call up a couple classmates later just to make sure. He laughed at himself, turning his sheepish grin back up at the glowering girl.

“Sorry, didn’t realize what time it was! Didn’t even hear the bell, I guess, maybe I should get my ears checked,” he said, sticking his little finger into his ear to dig around as if to clear some blockage away. “Didn’t mean to make you wait Maki Roll, thanks for coming to get me.”

Maki puffed out her cheeks, averting her gaze and playing with one of her extremely long ponytails. Kaito remembered more the one occasion where he’d told her how pretty her hair was. She’d called him an idiot for it each time, but he always caught the hint of a pleased smile afterward. It pleased him to see her secret smiles, although he never called her out on the lie. If he did, she’d deny it vehemently, and he’d be hard pressed to get a positive reaction again after that. He refrained from calling her cute now, though, with how irritated she looked.

“Like I said, I don’t wait for you,” she said, refusing to look at him. “I just happened to come by here anyway, so I don’t know what you’re thanking me for. Stop smiling at me like that!”

Kaito’s smile turned into a beaming grin as she insisted that she hadn’t been waiting around for him. He couldn’t help it. It was a poor lie at best, with Maki covering up for her actual concern for him. When she chanced a glance at his face and snapped upon seeing the smile stretched across his face, he could only laugh. Shaking his head, his grin fixed onto his lips.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, not sounding apologetic in the slightest. He stood from his desk, grabbing his backpack from the floor to sling it over his back with one strap hanging off his shoulder. “Thanks for snapping me out of it anyway. Now, let’s get going!”

“You’re such a dumbass.” She seemed mildly amused as she said it, however, and the insult lacked its usual frosty bite.

They fell into a comfortable silence as they left the school. Such quiet suited Kaito just fine. He knew that Maki preferred to listen more than talk, and Kaito normally enjoyed filling the spaces between her sparse responses and rolled eyes with his own words. He talked about anything that came to mind—the day, his classes, tennis club—but inevitably the conversation rolled into his love for space. Kaito could talk endlessly about the universe, and stars, and planets, and his dream of one day blazing a trail across them all. One day he’d pioneer the way for commercial space travel, so that artists of all kinds could reach alien cultures that they hadn’t even discovered yet.

He half Maki to tell him to shut up with how frequently he talked about space sometimes. It was practically all he was interested in, and so he talked about it in great length, for as long as she allowed it. She never said anything about it though, and listened to him speak with sideways glances that told him he still had her attention.

Today, however, he didn’t say anything. As Maki fell quiet and they began their walk home together, Kaito was content to allow the silence to remain. His encounter with that merman still buzzed around his head, his thoughts allowing for nothing else to enter them. So many regrets. Should he have gotten a picture? No, he’d been too busy shoving the merman into the water and then running away from the angry fishermen. A picture from afar would’ve been too fuzzy and look fake, and a picture close up was just impossible.

Shit, Kaito hoped that he’d never see the fishermen again. He doubted it, but the possibility was still there. It’d probably be smart to delay his early-morning run or take it in the evening, just to ensure that their schedules never crossed for the next few weeks or so.

Not that he was afraid of them. No way, he could take those wimps with one had tied behind his back. He just preferred not to bother with it to begin with. Explaining bruised knuckles and a bloody lip was more trouble than simply changing up his schedule for a short while.

“You sure are quiet,” Maki remarked after they’d been walking for a few minutes.

“Huh, am I?” Kaito shrugged off her comment. “Guess I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

“Like what?”

Of course Maki would choose now of all times to ask him questions. In her defense, Kaito supposed that he’d been acting strange since he first came into school, zoning out through lunch and spacing out so hard in class that she’d had to come find him after it was over. Now he didn’t talk as he usually did on his way home. Anyone would be curious about what had his mind so occupied.

But he couldn’t exactly tell her what happened, right? She wouldn’t believe him. Kaito wouldn’t believe him either, listening to him tell his tale. Yet she was his friend, and he should be able to be honest with her no matter how ridiculous the story was. And she might actually believe him after all, he figured.

It wouldn’t hurt to try.

“Well, this morning when I was on my morning run, I saw this thing between two fishermen on the pier. I thought it was a huge fish but it was actually a mermaid! And the dudes were talking about taking it and selling it and cutting its vocal cords, and I couldn’t take hearing that, so I rescued it and shoved it into the water!”

Then he ran as fast as he could back home, but she didn’t need to hear that.

Maki gave him a look. “Where do you come up with things like this?”

Yeah, he figured that she wouldn’t believe him. Still, he held his bandaged palms up to her, trying to convince her. “No way, it’s true! I cut myself on its scales and everything!”

She rolled her eyes and pushed his hands away. “I hope you really didn’t shove some poor fisherman’s catch into the water this morning. You could at least make up a believable story if you’re going to lie.”

Kaito didn’t answer that right away, staring at his hands. He knew what he saw, and that had been a mermaid. He’d heard him talk, too, even if he had no proof now. No proof except for the cuts on his hands, of course. Maki would never believe him though, just as he figured. So he dropped it with a shrug. It wasn’t worth the effort, he decided, and it was probably better that she didn’t believe in his story.

“Right, sorry. I think it’s a pretty interesting story though,” he said. He couldn’t say he blamed her for not believing something like finding a mermaid, but damn he would’ve liked to be able to get his persistent thoughts out into the open with his best friend.

“You’ve had better stories.” Maki turned her eyes back to the street ahead of them. They were nearing the orphanage she lived in now, and Kaito could see the reluctance building in her expression. “You better make your next story a good one, or else.”

“Yeah. Yeah, gotcha… Did you want to come over to my place for a while?” he asked, ignoring her threat.

Gratitude flashed across her eyes, but when she turned her face to look up at him it had already vanished. Even so, the tiniest smile remained on her lips. “Yes. That’d be nice, thank you.”

They crossed the street together, and Kaito pushed his thoughts away to fill the silence between them with his voice again. He had a life to live, and couldn’t spend it with his head preoccupied with impossible regrets.

So he told himself at least. A few days later he found himself worse off than ever. No matter what he did, he couldn’t put the memory of his encounter out from his mind. By the time the weekend rolled around, Kaito couldn’t resist anymore. He went down to the beach, to the pier where he’d first seen the merman. At the edge of the wood he paused, staring at the far end where he’d seen the captured merman.

This was a stupid idea. It wasn’t like the creature would be lurking around the very spot that he’d been captured the first time, even if the pier was utterly devoid of people now. Yet Kaito still went around to go beneath the pier, walking down closer to the water until he stood with the waves lapping against his knees in the shadow of the dock above. He rested a hand against one of the thick support beams, scanning the blue ahead of him.

He didn’t know what to expect, but a sudden large shadow appearing from around one of the beams wasn’t one of them.

It moved swiftly, bending the water with its size and speed. Kaito stepped back, splashing as he attempted to retreat before the coming shape. Too slow. Before he’d made it back even a couple of feet, the shadow reached him.

A hand broke the surface of the water. It caught his, and jerked downward.

He shouted. The sound echoed off the underside of the pier and choked off with a splash as Kaito hit the water. He sat up, brushing wet hair from his eyes and sputtering in the shock of the freezing water. He blinked rapidly and swiped the back of his hands across his eyes, trying to get his bearings as his heart thudded frantically against the back of his ribcage. Then, the sight in front of him made it freeze in his chest.

“You!”

Thin lips curled up in a playful grin, purple eyes sparkling with mischief. “You know, normally people think of something a little more eloquent to say than that when they see a super rare creature. And I do have a name you know.”

Right in front of him was the very merman who’d been running through his head for the past few days. Kaito’s jaw dropped open and he could only gape in silent shock. The merman giggled, clearly amused by his reaction. The sound brought him back to his senses; he struggled to say anything more substantial.

“You—. You’re that—.” His thoughts were like live wire, electric and jumping back and forth before he could get a handle on them. Finally he pounced on the only words he could grasp. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Huh? Whaddya mean?” The merman tilted his head to one side. Kaito saw that the water was shallow enough for him to prop himself up on his hands to raise his head above the surface. His tail was stretched out behind him, resting against the sand. “I sort of live here. The question is, what are you doing here?”

“I was just… wait, you’re still here even after you got caught by those guys?”

“Well duh, they can’t do anything to me. The only reason why they caught me that first time was because I made a teensy mistake. Won’t happen again. ‘sides, they don’t know that I make my home around here, so it’s all good. Unless someone tells on me, but you wouldn’t do that to poor widdle me, riiight?” he asked, once again flashing him those needle-sharp teeth. “Now answer my question. What’re you doing here, knowing that there was an evil merman hanging out right here?”

Evil? Kaito didn’t understand that descriptor. He shook his head, more to get the water out of his ears than in response to anything. “I was just curious. I… wanted to see you again, if I could.”

The merman laughed at him, and his ears burned in embarrassment from his reaction. “That’s so stupid. Didn’t you know? Merpeople are evil and ruthless. I could kill you with one hand tied behind my back.” He dragged himself along the bottom of the water, closer to him, and he rested a scaly cheek against one of Kaito’s raised knees. “But actually, it’s a good thing you did come here. You wanna know why?”

Kaito was too stunned to do more than ask, “Why?”

The creature moved again, closer, slinking around Kaito’s knees. He curled his fingers into the front of Kaito’s shirt and hoisted himself up, directly into his lap. Kaito had no idea how to react. A merman sat right in his lap and smiling almost sweetly right up at him directly after laughing at him and threatening him. He opened his mouth, about to say something even if he didn’t know what the hell kind of words to even voice, but the merman cut him off by leaning his face in so close that Kaito could feel his breath on his face.

“I wanted to thank you for saving my life. Even though I totally didn’t need the help, it’s still sweet in a stupid kind of way.”

“I—that’s kind of a shitty way to say thanks,” he said finally, unsure whether to frown or to just continue staring. He should probably shove the merman off of him, but his hands stung with the reminder of the last time he put them on this guy.

“Is it? Sorryyyy. Here, how ‘bout this?” He spoke with honey in his voice, and a playful lilt to his tone. Kaito didn’t know what to make of it, or of anything that was happening for that matter. “As thanks, I’ll give you a kiss. For my knight in shining armor, nee-heehee.”

What?

“What?” he echoed his thought out loud, stunned and bewildered. “…I mean. What?”

The merman laughed again. He pulled his head back again, leaning back against Kaito’s raised knees. “Oh man, you should see your face right now! You’re too easy to mess with!”

Kaito responded by dropping his legs. The merman let out a yelp, splashing back into the water. He pushed himself up quick enough though, and the amusement in his expression hadn’t faded a bit.

“Wow you’re so mean,” he said, not looking put out at all. “But I’m really bored and you’re kinda fun! So how about this: let’s play together some more. I want to know all about the dumb heroic idiot who saved my life, and I’ll even let you look at my cute little self as well. It’s win-win for both of us.”

“What? What makes you think that I’ll want to come back here, you little shit?” He couldn’t believe how obnoxious this merman was. Part of him regretting coming back here.

“Because!” he chimed out, grinning wide. “What human doesn’t want the privilege of hanging out with something from one of his fantasies!”

Alright, he had a point. Disregarding his wording, he did have a point.

Though Kaito didn’t respond, his face must have said plenty, because the merman gave a satisfied nod. “Alright then, it’s settled! I can’t wait to mess with you lots more in the future! It’ll be sooo much fun. For me, of course.”

Kaito had no idea what he was getting himself into. He cleared his throat, too baffled about this turn of events to make a good coherent response. “…sure. Ok then.”

Evidently it was enough of an answer for the merman. The end of his fin splashed lightly in the water before him, similar to the way a puppy might wag his tail. It was almost adorable, how delighted he seemed just from Kaito’s agreement to meet up with him again in the future. Almost so, if scales and the lingering smell of fish could be considered cute in any way.

“Perfect! Oh, and by the way, I’ll even tell you my name since I like you so much. It’s Kokichi. You should feel honored—you’re the only human I’ve ever told it too.”

[blficarchive]

✨ ABO Fic Rec ✨

Hi yall! This is my first fic rec post it’s a good way for me to keep all the fics I’ve read and liked together in an organized way! I’m actually really excited and I hope at least someone likes this because these are some of my favorites! If anyone has any recommendations or suggestions feel free to message me! :’)

~ Cold Little Heart by seducedbycurls

Summary:

Louis is a soft omega with an abusive past and an alpha child

A few months after getting a divorce, Louis meets Harry, an ex-military alpha wolf that offers him something -odd.

In exchange for teaching him how to cook, Harry will babysit his son, Abraham

Louis really could use the help.

~ Love is like this; not a heartbeat, but a moan by angelichl

Summary:

“He hates this, more than anything in the world he hates this. His title, his rank, his DNA. Unchangeable. Fated.

And then there’s Harry, born to be unobjectively superior to Louis and all other O’s. Unlike other A’s, Harry doesn’t wear his alpha-ness very well. He’s clumsy with it, like walking around in a pair of shoes a size too big. His life is defined by uncertainty and tentativeness, and those are definitely not qualities alphas should have.

Sometimes, when Louis ponders it for too long, he thinks that maybe Harry resents being an A just as much as Louis resents being an O.”

In which Harry loves Louis, but Louis has been cold to him ever since he presented as an omega at age fifteen.

Eight years later, Louis approaches Harry with a request, and who is Harry to deny him?

~ Just My Style by Anonymous

Sunmary:

Harry is sick, and the only thing that might help him is the pheromones from his mate–problem is, he hasn’t got a mate.

Louis’ just been disowned, and taking part in a medical study where he has to cuddle with some strange alpha seems to be his only option for earning a bit of cash.

The hippies and Omega Rights campaigners are busy changing the world–but all Harry wants is a chance to live.

~ Gentle Autumn Rain by alex4968

Summary:

Louis Tomlinson moved to London with a big heart and a big dream. Harry Styles moved to London, fresh out of the police academy, with the hopes of helping as many people as he could in his eyes. When a deranged alpha forces their paths to cross, their ideas of what is meant to be will never be the same.

~ Kiss me on the Mouth and Set me Free (but please don’t bite) by seducedbycurls

Summary:

Harry is the CEO of Flora Corp, Louis is his new secretary.

“…Louis wanted him so badly. Wanted Harry to pick him up, bite him, and break him. Make Louis his, make Louis cry, make Louis a beautiful, plump, pregnant omega…”

~ I’m On the Hunt Now (I’m After You) by AFangirlFantasy

Summary:

Omegas haven’t been able to shift into their wolves for two hundred years. That is, until Louis Tomlinson changes everything. 

Or…an AU where Alpha Harry and Omega Louis have a lot more than falling in love to deal with after The Mating Ceremony.

~ If I don’t have you (there’ll be nothing left) by SadaVeniren

Summary: 

“What is his problem?” Louis demanded as he stalked around Niall and Ed’s kitchen. They were gonna have a pow-wow and figure out what was going on with Harry.

“Maybe he can’t pop a knot?” Niall suggested.

“Ew,” Liam said.

“Doubtful,” Louis said. “He seemed perfectly fine up until his friend pulled him off of me. Also I may have called him a knothead earlier in the night and he didn’t make a single comment to me about it.”

AKA Louis thought after meeting Harry at a party everything would fall into place. If only life worked out that nicely.

~ Something to Prove by trysomecats

Summary: 

Louis is the first and only omega to work at Red Valley Medical Center. Despite being more than qualified, he still faces prejudice for his career choice everyday. From patients refusing his treatment to condescending alpha doctors intervening with his work, practicing medicine in Boston is more challenging than Louis had ever thought it would be.

~ where the lights are beautiful by twoshipsdrifting

Summary: 

Harry wasn’t wrong about that, not in a general sense. Lots of omegas did seek out rich alphas and betas, hoping or planning to go into heat at the right time. Plenty of omegas saw this as their duty, especially if their families weren’t well off. Worse, Louis couldn’t honestly say he’d never thought about it. If that had been his life, his goal, Louis would feel pretty good about himself now. As it is…Louis feels like shit.

.:. .:. .:.

Or the accidental bonding a/b/o fic.

~ Breathe For Me by trysomecats

Summary: 

“Harry Styles?” A voice called out, and Harry blinked in shock as he was assaulted by a sweet, luscious scent. There was an omega standing in the doorway, and his looks certainly matched his smell.

Or, Harry is an alpha with a severe phobia of needles, and Louis is the cute omega phlebotomist who needs to get a blood sample from him.

~ Do You Like My Sweater? by kiwikero 

Summary: 

“Look, for a Sadie Hawkins dance the omegas are supposed to invite the alphas instead of the other way around.”

Niall and Liam shared a look. “That… sounds like the sort of thing you would usually be all over, Lou,” Liam said, face pinched in confusion. Niall nodded his agreement.

“Yeah, if omegas were hosting it,” Louis replied sourly. “It’s one thing if we decide that we’re going to ask the alphas for a change. It’s insulting that they think we need their permission.”

When Harry’s alpha fraternity decides to host a Sadie Hawkins dance, outspoken omega Louis has a thing or two to say about it.

~ Mark my word (we gon’ be alright) by harioandlouigi

Summary: 

“He’s always known that there would come a time when Harry would bond with some beautiful, quiet omega, and they would have lots of curly-haired pups and live happily ever after.

Knowing it and living it are two very different things, though. Watching the object of your affection desperately search for a mate and completely disregard you as an option is all sorts of painful, but it is what it is, and Louis is just going to have to learn to live with that.”

Or, an A/B/O AU featuring an oblivious Harry as the pack leader, a pining Louis as his second-in-command, and an entourage of friends and family who are a little too good at keeping their mouths shut.

~ Like Candy In My Veins by littlelouishiccups

Summary: 

“Um…” Harry said slowly after a moment. “Okay. That’s… this is… Let me get this straight.” He lifted up a hand and swallowed. “You told your family that you have a boyfriend… and my name was the first one you thought of?”

“Harry Potter was on TV, alright? It wasn’t that much of a stretch.” Louis pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t believe he was explaining himself to Harry fucking Styles. He couldn’t believe he was stooping this low. “Forget it. I’m sorry I even thought about bringing you into this.”

Harry snorted. “What? Did you want me to pretend to be your boyfriend or something?” (Basically the A/B/O, enemies to lovers, fake relationship, Christmas AU that nobody asked for.)

~ roll like thunder, burn like stars by hilourry

Summary:

In a world where the hierarchy of society is omegas and they get to pick their alphas. Omega Louis really wants Professor Harry Styles as his alpha.

~ You’ll Hear Me Calling for You by pinky_heaven19

Summary:

“I don’t know, I don’t know you,” Harry said with a shrug, knowing his replies were dumb but not able to think of anything better to say. “You don’t know me either, so I don’t know why you’re acting like this,” he said, slouching on his seat.

“Oh, but I do know you,” Louis replied, raising his eyebrows in a gesture of disdain.

His attitude made Harry stare at him in confusion. Had they met before and he didn’t remember? Was that why Louis was mad?

“You do?”

“I know the likes of you,” Louis said with a shrug of his shoulder.

“The likes of me? Excuse me?” Harry was offended and confused.

“Alpha males who enter cock first in any room and think people should bow to them or some shit like that,” Louis answered bitterly.

OR the one where Harry is an Alpha and Louis has a problem with it - until he doesn’t.

~ friends don’t kiss me like you do by larrysoulmates

Summary:

Omega Louis is a teacher at a primary school. He gets a student teacher, an alpha named Harry, to observe his class. Louis thinks they are just friends, but they are much more.

~ As deep as the sky by swallowsmateforlife

Summary:

A passed-out omega on the bathroom floor isn’t exactly what Harry had in mind when he thought about taking a cute boy home. The idea of leaving Louis there, vulnerable and unresponsive, weighs guiltily at Harry’s conscience. Turns out it’s the best decision he’ll ever make.

~ Swim In The Smoke by whoknows

Summary:

“What about this, Captain?” Liam asks, nudging the boy kneeling between their feet with the toe of his boot. The boy hisses and swipes at him, slurring out something unintelligible around the makeshift gag Niall had to stuff in his mouth. He misses by a mile and tries again, just as ineffectively.

Harry looks down at him, at the way the sun streams over his face and shoulders, at the way the gag stretches his mouth, lips pink and chapped. He’s lithe and pretty, smudged all over with dirt. They had found him tied up below deck, mostly unconscious, next to a barrel full of gold. He’s clearly a prisoner, but there’s something familiar about him, something that niggles at Harry’s brain. Something he can’t quite put his finger on.

“Put him in my cabin,” Harry decides, turning back to deal with the rest of the loot. The boys screams out jumbled curse words at Harry’s back, muffled by the gag, and Harry can’t understand any of it.

~ Going Nowhere Alone by SS98

Summary:

Nothing can save you from the night, and if it can then it was born there.

* * * * *

There’s Harry, Edward and Marcel. Harry serves as pack leader to the last remaining house of werewolves. Edward, his brother, finds joy in sex and banter with strangers. Marcel plays along for as long as he can before morals corrupt his act.

Louis romanticises life so it doesn’t seem as shallow to him. Being Omega isn’t a joyride but three Alphas are determined to change that.

[drx3-imagines]

Decided to put two requests in one since the way I wrote this fit them both (and because it got suuuuuuuper long compared to usual). It did get a little angsty for a while but it turned out fluffy in the end, I promise! I hope you guys like the way this turned out (and sorry for the wait /_\;)!

“... Well, of course, I know who the buyer is but I’m not sure who on Earth had it in their right mind to interfere with the operation! And I know those men were just lackeys so I’d really appreciate it if you could look into finding the ringleader for me, Iza-kun~” she spoke in a sing-song voice, trying her best to seem cute and endearing as she rested her hand on Izaya’s shoulder. The shirt she wore was low-cut, revealing more than it should have as she pressed her chest against his arm. Meanwhile, Izaya ignored her for the most part, only paying attention to what little (and pretty much useless) information she had given him on the whereabouts of her stolen shipments. This client was new, a foreigner from America looking to continue some underground drug ring fight club whatever it was. Apparently, she had ordered an illegal trade the night before which was pitifully sabotaged. In the end, she still lost some pretty high-end cargo and came knocking on Izaya’s door asking for information.

Unfortunately, you had been walking around the city that evening with Namie until she headed home, leaving you wandering towards the apartment you shared with Izaya. You had recognized your boyfriend’s voice relatively quickly, rounding the corner excitedly to greet him. Hand raised to wave hello, his name was so close to escaping your lips before you had realized that not only was he with the client he mentioned briefly over the phone earlier, but that said client was practically dry humping his hip at this point. Both walked your way still and you rounded the corner, shrinking back into an alley and gathering your thoughts. Yes, in his text that afternoon he had mentioned going to meet a particularly unique client; a foreigner, he had specified. Still, you didn’t expect her to be so touchy. The sight left a bitter feeling in your mouth even after reassuring yourself that he looked rather irritated by the woman’s presence.

You wouldn’t be so worried if you were dating someone more… average. Izaya was most definitely not, forcing you to recall the early beginnings of your relationship. The speeches you found so fascinating about his love of all humans, how they were all equal in his eyes, the way your heart leaped when you tweaked that philosophy and became a priority, a necessity to him. Sometimes though, you feared that maybe, as complex as Izaya is, it’s not as hard as you thought to stand out to him. That maybe being a bubbly foreigner could be just as alluring to him as you and your unique reactions when he posed complex questions that only he could really understand. It made you feel sick to think about it, especially when you had the image of that woman clinging to him ingrained in your mind. Despite the nauseous feeling it gave you, you couldn’t help but follow them out of some need, a sick sense of curiosity, or even worry. Worry that he’d leave you, not because you don’t trust him, but because maybe you’re no longer interesting enough to keep his attention.

Your footsteps were quiet, moving on impulse, ducking into alleyways when the pair in front of you turned to new roads. Sometimes it was a bit hard to keep track of them under the darkening evening sky but you followed still. Your mood darkening with every flirtatious comment the woman made and every too-friendly touch. It was both relief and a sense of impending doom that filled you when she handed Izaya the money and he accepted the job as you realized the dire truth; he thought you were at home.

You turned around, footsteps as quiet as they could be as you speed-walked your way down the street. Deeming yourself to have gotten out of earshot, your feet slammed on the ground as you burst into a full-on sprint, passing bystanders at a lightning-fast pace as you darted towards the apartment complex. The wind whipped your hair wildly as you rounded corners and made your way through side streets, eventually coming to the front doors of the imposing grey building. The lights showed from various windows which cascaded downwards into a luminous greeting, beckoning you to hurry in and situate yourself. You continued your fast pace towards the elevators and tapped your foot against the faux marble floor as you rode your way up, anxiety biting at you when you thought of being caught spying or maybe even being right about your earlier presumptions.

You slipped into the apartment and kicked off your shoes, your jacket being placed on the rack near the door. Wiping the sweat from your face, you rushed into the kitchen to start some semblance of a meal, glancing back to make sure you had locked the door behind you. The anxiety from moments ago seemed to subside a bit in the quiet apartment as you stir-fried vegetables and listened to the popping of oil, frying fish in the pan next to you. It hadn’t been maybe twenty minutes before your entire body jolted at the sound of the door lock clicking and a familiar face waltzing in past the threshold. You lowered the heat on the pan you had been handling and turned to greet Izaya who had carried himself over to stand in front of you, his hands coming to rest on your hips.

"Pretty late dinner, don't you think? It's almost 11:30," he raised a brow before kissing your cheek and allowing you to turn in his arms and continue cooking.

The pans sizzled, nearly burning you with small splashes of oil as you carefully stirred their contents. You let out a soft hum of acknowledgment, taking a moment to think up a reply as you turned off the heat on the burners. “I took a nap on the couch when I came in a few hours ago, when I woke up it was almost eleven,” you started plating food, Izaya watching you closely from a few feet away. “How did your meeting with the client go?”

He was silent for a moment, only saying a quick thank you as you handed him his plate and made your way to the dark tabletop off to the side of the kitchen. Once you were seated you began to eat, still in silence. You were only half-way through your meal before Izaya spoke up, only having picked through his food thus far, “My meeting?” You glanced up, nodding and waiting for his answer to your earlier question. “Well,” he took a slow bite of his food, acting thoughtful as if he had already forgotten the last few hours of his night, “you would know, wouldn’t you?”

You nearly choked on the bite of salmon you were swallowing, taking everything in you to ignore the awful feeling of food being temporarily lodged in your throat and staying calm. “Not unless you told me before now,” you made eye contact, trying your hardest to seem inconspicuous. All you received was a neutral expression with the slightest hint of amusement dotting his eyes, much to your chagrin.

“You’re wearing your noisy shoes today, you know?” He took another bite of his food, you now being the one to pick awkwardly at the contents of your plate, “The ones that make that strange squeaking sound if you walk too fast.”

He knew. He heard you and he may have damn well seen you too! You were embarrassed, to say the least. The nervousness from earlier when the adrenaline had rushed through your veins during your run had been brought back in full, accompanied by a new sense of dread. A cluster of thoughts filled your mind. What if he’s upset with me? Come on, now. He does this for a living. But what if he’s angry that I didn’t trust him? What does he think of me knowing I practically stalked him all evening? For a while you sat in silence, returning to the earlier atmosphere but with a new tension on your side. Izaya continued to eat, eventually finishing and stacking your own near-empty plate on his, carrying them to the sink and coming back to his seat across from you at the kitchen table.

“____-chan, you’re fidgeting…” You refused to meet his eyes, your gaze locked on the table and his own sights set on the top of your head. Your face was hidden from view but he was confident you looked upset, if not unbearably nervous. “Come on, now, I’m not mad. Why did you follow me today?” His voice was soft, curious, “Not that I mind your company, but-”

He went quiet as you slid your hand across the table to rest a finger against his open palm. The contact was minuscule but the warmth where your skin met was enough for him to understand a bit; again silence came as you thought of your next words. “She- I- I didn’t… I didn’t like her, “ you paused, the both of you know that wasn’t what you meant. Well, honestly, you didn’t like her at all, but that wasn’t what you were trying to say. “The way she touched you, Izaya, the way she clung… You never told her to stop, never told her to let go.”

Your eyes finally rose to meet his own, gazes locked as you waited. He could tell you were upset, jealous, maybe even angry. Izaya paused a moment longer before replying, “I didn’t tell her to stop both for the sake of the deal and because I was…”

“You were what?” Your voice shook faintly, the feeling of bile rising in your throat at the answers you were dreading. “I want her.” “I’m bored of you.” “You’re tiresome.” “You’re not enough for me.”

The words repeated in your mind as he watched your hands begin to tremble, his own coming to hold them in worry. Worry for you and worry for himself because he knew that if you were reacting like this now, you’d really be pissed at his answer. “...I was curious about your reaction. I wanted to know how you’d behave being faced with something like that. I’m sorry ____-cha-”

You weren’t pissed as he had expected. Not even angry could describe you now; you were livid. Looking full of hellfire, your voice raised. Not in volume but in pitch, a telltale sign that you were hurt, no longer by the woman but by Izaya himself. “Sorry? You’re sorry?! I could have handled you being bored of me and I could have taken not being enough for you, but you didn’t even have a real reason?!” You stepped away from the table and from him, pacing throughout the room. You knew him, you knew he did things like this. He’d done “tests” like this before when the two of you first met but now you’d gotten comfortable. It had been such a long time since he’d targeted you for one of his little social experiments that you had grown accustomed to being his pride and joy and not another guinea pig. Apparently, you still were though.

Izaya stood as well, looking cooler than ever but only thinly veiling the guilt (whatever amount he could possibly muster) hidden in his expression. “____-chan... ____. I didn’t mean to offend you,” you shot an icy glare his way, his “apology” not being accepted. You continued to pace, seething in silence as he watched you, unsure of what to say or do to try and fix his mistake. Now you were not only worried he was no longer interested in you but you also had a new fear that you were just his pawn. Yes, everyone else was, always, but you had hoped to god you’d made it past that now.

Your boyfriend was still watching quietly until eventually, he couldn’t stand it anymore. He walked up slowly, almost like he was afraid you’d run if he was too sudden in his movements, and put a hand on your shoulder. It was almost like a slap in the face when your entire body tensed up and you avoided meeting his eyes. You were pissed more at yourself for following him and unknowingly playing along than at him for setting the whole thing up but that didn’t stop you from blocking him out either way.

The room remained silent, the anxiety clouding your thoughts and soon enough the only thing you could really register was Izaya centering himself in front of you, both hands on your shoulders and thumbs rubbing circles into the fabric of your shirt. He didn’t dare to do anything more, merely stilling you and waiting for your next move.

You sighed, frustrated and exhausted and mulling over far too many complicated thoughts all at once. Every time the words tried to come out they caught in your throat and made you angrier, and every time you got angrier you wanted to scream. You wanted to scream at yourself, at Izaya, at the damned woman in the ugly shirt, at everyone! But each time you thought about yelling at him or raising your voice in the slightest, you would remember your promises to him. You remembered the day he first spoke to you, asking you some strange and out-of-this-world question before you replied accordingly and caught him off guard with your answer. You remember the surprised and curious smile stretching across his face with every word you told him as he walked you home. It made you smile. Only slightly, but enough.

You found yourself leaning forward, your head coming to rest against his chest as your breathing slowed. Izaya took this as his queue to slowly wrap his arms around you and pull you closer, your hands coming to rest on his hips. The soothing patterns being traced into your shoulders continued to calm you until you relaxed into him completely. You were still upset, yes, but primarily about that woman taking him away from you more than being a science project. The amount of anger you felt scattering its attention on every little made your head hurt and it all started falling out of place. You felt ridiculous for the shouting and you felt embarrassed about following him earlier. The most unsettling feeling of all was the strange sense of shame coiling in your gut. Where it came from or why it was there, you didn’t know, but it made its presence known.

Izaya tried to grab your attention, taking a step back but still holding his hands at your shoulders to try and ground you from whatever sort of sensory overload was taking place. “____…” he murmured, voice soft and tone concerned. Tears were pooling in your eyes from the emotional blur you were trying to make sense of; everything felt too complicated and too stressful and the blood pulsing in your ears got louder and louder the more you dragged yourself into your thoughts and returned to a state of distress. Izaya gently shook your shoulders, your eyes snapping to his and a tear streaming down your cheek. Your brows furrowed as if you were begging some higher power to answer your prayers, a look a pained confusion, distraught and at peace all at once. He could there was something else you had to say, something you were attempting to voice that refused to come out. The inkling theory of what it was swimming in his head, “What? What else is there, ____?” A hand rose to your cheek, thumb gentle against your skin.

You looked more troubled than before when the question registered with you; anxiety was bubbling up again and rooting itself in your bones for the umpteenth time that night. You sighed, words forming in a quiet mess of near-broken syllables as the sounds moved past your lips, “Am I...Am I boring? Are you bored of me? I-” The breath caught in your throat, choking you and almost bringing you to a full stop; tears were slow and steady, being wiped away every so often by the hand still resting against your face. “Would you prefer h-her? Are you done playing with me? Tell me, Izaya. Please tell me what’s left of us because I was sure I knew this morning but it feels different now.” Your voice was small and broken, eyes squinted to see through the tears as you tried your best to look at him, “Do you still love me? Do you still love me like you did yesterday? A week ago? A month?”

Izaya, not that he’d ever admit it, was taken aback. He knew he’d messed up that night, greatly so, but he never expected your thoughts to escalate so quickly and so drastically. True to his nature, he smiled at the surprise. He never planned on that sort of reaction, not at all, and he absolutely adored you for changing the game once again.

Despite the immense burst of joy he felt upon looking at the sincere pain in your eyes he had not planned to see, he knew he had to fix it. He may be a rotten man but he still loved you greatly.

The hand holding your cheek wiped away another tear as the seriousness was interrupted by the laughter softly bouncing about his chest. “Come here, ____. Come with me.” Izaya did not kiss you. He did not hug you or pat your head. He dropped the reassuring hands he held you with altogether, opting instead to turn and walk to the bedroom, you hesitantly following suit. Upon opening the door he stepped away to let you in, shutting it behind him. “Lie down for me, right in the middle, okay?” Admittedly, you were confused, the budding headache doing nothing for you as you obeyed. You went around the large bed, taking note of the duvet knocked to the floor haphazardly after Izaya had woken that morning, not bothering to replace it as usual. You sat, movements slow and unsure as you shifted your hips and scooted across to the middle of the mattress. There was a nervousness pooling in you, strangely enough; you practically lived here, you’d slept in this bed many times, and you’d slept alongside Izaya many times as well, and yet you still felt odd about what was happening, whatever it was. Maybe it was the stress of the past few hours or the fear of what answer you may or may not receive if Izaya ever acknowledges your questions from earlier.

You looked at him then, your hands fidgeting and picking at the strings dangling from the hem of your shirt as you watched him who looked like he was admiring you or maybe just losing himself in thought as he planned, you weren’t all too sure. You were confused further as he came forward, kneeling on the bed and making his way towards you slowly and carefully before coming to a halt inches away from your lips. He whispered softly, near-inaudible, and you could barely make out the words as you focused on the movement of pink lips.

“I love you.”

You looked confused almost, not having completely registered what he said; still, your cheeks tinged red and the widening of your eyes as you comprehended the words was enough to having Izaya chuckling once more before he leaned in to kiss you. “Let me show you”, he whispered, every possible mix of words died in your throat, the realization set in that he had every intention of taking you tonight. This was a plan of his to reach into you with every bit of himself and touch your very soul so you could understand. As soon as you nodded in confirmation, words betraying you once more, the most heartfelt reconciliation Izaya could conjure was set in motion.

Despite having every intention of being confident and careful and reassuring, Izaya was stumbling in the most novice of ways. He was so sure of himself in this plan to rid you of your fears and your troubles but he quickly came to the conclusion that he had, not for the first time, gotten far ahead of himself. His capacity for romance was limited, his social intimacy had been stunted since childhood, and his ego was boosted to impossible proportions; such was a recipe for disaster when it came to intimacy as he’d just realized. He had to give it some thought, wondering if maybe it was his fault you had gotten so much pent-up worry over the state of your relationship, if maybe he could have learned to be sweeter, more in touch with you. Instead, he’d been coasting across on his own idea of love and how he wanted love to be. Tonight, however awkwardly, he would learn what love you wanted.

Your face was practically on fire as Izaya reached for the hem of your shirt where your fingers had picked away at the loose strings, bringing it up over your head and tossing it to the side to land on the duvet in the floor. A kiss was placed on your lips and another questioning glance met your eyes, asking for permission to move forward. Again, you nodded, a hand reaching up to cover part of your face and an eye peeking between your fingers as you watched him move. Nimble fingers unfastened the button on your jeans before tugging the fabric past your thighs and off of your legs entirely. He stopped then, admiring the softness of your skin and the barely-there stubble from where you’d shaved earlier that week. His hands reached forward, almost timidly as he did so, to rest against your waist. Brown eyes set a heavy gaze on you as his thumbs made their way down to caress your hips. “Is there anything you want,” he came forward to kiss your cheek, “Anything at all? Barring the obvious, of course,” he took a moment to glance at the damp spot on your underwear to which you promptly snapped your legs closed, face turning to look away from him as he chuckled, an amused and adoring smirk stretching across his face before he kissed your cheek again.

“Shirt…” Your voice was quiet, sounding unsure of yourself and still hesitant, not quite comfortable yet.

Izaya leaned back to take a look at you (or as much as he could while you were avoiding his eyes so adamantly). His hand grabbed your chin, gently guiding you to face him and your gaze trying and failing to moving onto anything but him. “At any time can you tell me to stop. If you’re uncomfortable, say so. Please say so. This is for you only if you want it. I’m here for you. This is your time.”

Your eyes widened, the sincerity as he spoke so surely would have had you speechless were you not already struggling to speak previously. You nodded to him, stopping when you saw the questioning look on his face. “I- Okay…,” you still sounded unsure, causing Izaya to grab your hand which had moved to prop you up on the mattress. Motivated by his warmth, you steeled yourself, “I will. If I’m not okay I’ll tell you, I promise.” You locked eyes with him, your flushed face and determined stare were enough to have him cooing at you in his head.

With that he leaned back, pulling the fitted black shirt over his head and throwing it in the general direction of your own clothes, his pants coming next. It gave you a sense of comfort from the equal exposure, the both of you taking a moment to admire each other. It was so odd to see each other so naturally and so freely, accompanied by tented boxers and wet underwear, of course.

Izaya made his way forward, hand coming to rest just above your knee, another request for permission evident on his face. As much as you loved it, the constant double-checking was killing you. “Izaya, I’ll tell you to stop when I want you to, I swear,” you leaned towards him and planted a kiss on his forehead, pink soon coming to just barely dust his cheeks. He rolled his eyes, nodding at you and moving his hands up to the waistband of your underwear. Hesitant fingers slipped under the elastic before slowly but surely removing the offending garment altogether and flinging it to the side.

There was an unexpected sense of anticipation as he moved his hand to trace the glistening skin of your folds, a nervous excitement building in you both as Izaya poked and prodded at your entrance. Finally, he slipped the first finger inside, appreciating the sharp breath you took when he curled the digit inside you. With a few short pumps, going slowly to let you adjust and enjoy the feeling, he was moving to enter a second finger. His opposite hand came to trace your side and provide balance as he leaned forward to place gentle kisses across your chest, eventually settling on nibbling a pert nipple whose enticing silhouette had no trouble in capturing Izaya’s attention. His fingers moved faster within you, a third joining the others as soft whimpers escaped past your lips.

His movements began to slow at the trembling of your thighs, only coming to a full stop once he glanced up to see the lip caught between your teeth and the harsh rise and fall of your chest. Your face was flushed, reddening further at the needy whine slipping itself past your lips. “Patience now, ____-chan. We can’t go ending it all here, can we?” You squinted at him, making sure the look you gave him got across that the growing wet spot where the head of his cock strained against his boxers was not unknown to you, the physical proof of his own excitement being no secret. “...Anyways,” his cheeks flushed a bit and you giggled, a small smile making its way onto his face as looked at you. You finally seemed to relax, adjusting to the situation and taking things fairly well. He made his way forward a bit, both of your hands nudging his away and coming to rest at the hem of his boxers. What you tried make look like a request for permission only looked devious and downright enticing on his end. Instead of a nod like you had expected, he crashed his lips against yours, the unexpected force making your head spin and a grunt to emerge from his throat. Tongues clashing, you removed his boxers and began to palm at the growing erection standing proudly against your thigh. There was a bit of awkward shuffling as he reached into the bedside table, blindly popping open an unused box of condoms and stumbling to roll one on. Soon he was finally aligned with your entrance, face pulling back to look at you, panting. There was a string of saliva connecting your kiss-swollen lips to his, both of your faces were flushed and a new heat filtered through the air around you. “Ready?” You nodded, your hands coming up to wrap around his Izaya’s shoulders.

There was a muttered “I love you” before he steadily pushed inside of you, stopping to let you adjust every so often and waiting for you to nod and let him proceed. When your hips finally met you rested your forehead against his shoulder, taking a deep breath to steady yourself and then humming in reply when he asked if you were okay. Your voice was soft and a little shaky as you spoke, “G-go ahead, I’m fine now.”

He pulled out slowly, sending chills up your spine at the sensation of being empty again, before he snapped his hips against yours, ripping a gasp from your throat. He set a steady pace, as your nails scraped the skin of his shoulders, his breath heavy in your ears as mewls and moans filled the silence around you accompanied by the occasional slap of skin against skin.

Izaya’s lips made fiery trails across your throat, nipping at your collarbones, your jaw, your ear, and anything else he could reach and he pounded into you. Sweat started to bead at his temples, moisture sticking your hair to your forehead as he rocked into you, the bed frame creaking every so often from your movements. Pretty soon your legs were shaking again, your voice cracking as broken syllables and moans of his name fell past your lips, your own name coming from him in response. His pace quickened, movements growing sharper until he felt himself reaching his own peak. Suddenly he slowed, opting for long, hard thrusts. Each one bringing about new words, new reassurances.

“You are enough, m-more than enough,” another rock of his hips as you gasp out his name.

“No-one will ever take me from you, never,” a forceful kiss meets your lips.

“I could never be bored of you,” another thrust, your nails digging into his back. He moans quietly.

“I love you,” your walls are tight around him. “I love y-you, I love you, I love-” your orgasm makes you squeeze him tighter than expected, forcing him over the edge immediately, the last word breaking off into a low groan of your name.

Izaya rides out his orgasm, thrusts becoming slower until the two of you are just a panting tangle of sweaty limbs and feverish kisses, both of you coming down from the high. You can just barely make out the gentle fingers running through your hair as the two of you catch your breath, Izaya soon leaning back and pulling out of you, rolling off the condom, tying it and pitching it into the trashcan by the bed before he moves to lie beside you. You can feel yourself being pulled close to him and coming to rest your head against his chest, his words from earlier returning to the forefront of your mind and finally beginning to register. The reassurance, the solid confirmation that you really, honestly meant as much to him as you had hoped; it made you dizzyingly happy, a lazy grin making its way onto your face as you murmured to him, “I love you too, Izaya.”

You’re not sure how long it took after that for the two of you to fall asleep but when you woke the next morning you were pleasantly surprised to see his sleeping face, eyes shut peacefully and lips coming to an unconscious smile when you kissed him.

- Pasya

[ourgypsealove-blog]

Late

‘We need to talk. Meet me @ the overlook? After dark. 9 PM? ~Joseph’

This is based on a conversation my coauthor and I were having. I was making him sad with mock confrontations between our Bad Dadz. 

Robert’s heart thrummed agonizingly in his chest as he pulled up to the rendezvous spot overlooking the city. For once, he was early in his life and he hated himself for it. Now it was just him and his thoughts as he waited for headlights to show around the bend.

Joseph had sent out an S.O.S. earlier in the day. Robert had felt as if his phone would burn a hole through his hand, mind having immediately kicked into overdrive. Something was up, something was wrong. Robert just knew it, felt it in his tired bones. Joseph’s message had been vague, but Robert couldn’t still the quake he felt, like the world was vibrating apart under his feet.

‘We need to talk. Meet me @ the overlook? After dark. 9 PM? ~Joseph’

His breath stopped in his throat when Joseph rounded the corner, slowing his van to a stop beside him. Robert caught Joseph’s eyes in the glow of his van’s overhead light before it blacked out. Robert didn’t like the tightness around Joseph’s eyes, nor the lack of a smile at his lips.

Oh boy… This was going to be rough.

Robert reluctantly opened his truck door, climbing out from the safety of his truck’s cab. He really didn’t want to face the world outside. Inside his old Ford was safe, was familiar. Home. Like a salve that healed all his wounds, real and imaginary, and kept the walls up and solid around him.

Joseph was waiting for him at the end of his truck bed, arms wrapped around his chest. Robert couldn’t help but feel that Joseph was holding himself together, like something was tearing him apart from the inside. He could see the guilt etched in perfectly sculpted features.

Without saying a word, Robert brushed passed Joseph to lower the tailgate. He hopped up onto the edge, hands clasped in his lap. Joseph silently sat beside him, taking a similar pose, head down, thumbs twiddling in lap.

Silence. There was no sound aside from the crickets in the trees. A boat horn sounded somewhere down in the marina, Robert turning to watch as a yacht pulled into a slip. Why hadn’t Joseph even said hello?

“You said we needed to talk?” Robert spoke after a moment, the lack of sound driving him mad. He watched out of his peripheral vision as Joseph shifted uncomfortably beside him. He turned to watch the other, catching Joseph’s gaze before the other could look away. Robert swallowed thickly, his stomach doing a nervous tumble.

“What is it?” he implored, forgetting that he hadn’t wanted to appear desperate. But Joseph held his heart at its strings, Robert knew. Joseph could destroy him with a single pull, unraveling all his ramshackle walls held in place by nothing but a boyish hope.

“You can tell me, Joe…”

Joseph gave a dry laugh, left hand moving to run through sandy blond strands. Moonlight sparked off of the gold band on his ring finger and Robert cringed at the visceral reminder of the claim that lay on Joseph. Joseph could never be his, he knew. The other had a wife, a family, and here he was to muck it all up. Pathetic.

“Yeah, we need to talk,” Joseph said, pausing to gather his thoughts. Robert couldn’t help feel like the jilted teenage lover. “Are you breaking up with me?!” rang sharply through his ears. He wanted to double over, whether with laughter or pain, Robert wasn’t sure. This was it, wasn’t it? This was the culmination of all his fears.

Joseph roughly combed his hair with his fingers, agitatedly rubbing at the back of his neck as he searched for the right words to say. His jaw worked noticeably as he stared at the marina lights. Robert was afraid to know what had Joseph, who was normally the cool one while he overreacted, so riled up.

“Spit it out,” Robert commanded, the not knowing of what was ahead eating him up.

Joseph sighed, shoulders sagging under an immense weight. His hands fell into his lap and he examined them intently, not wanting to watch Robert fall apart.

“Mary’s….” the pause was agony, Robert’s mind racing through all the extremes. Joseph swallowed hard.

“Mary’s late.”

The words made Robert dumb. He couldn’t comprehend. Didn’t want to comprehend. Joseph caught his gaze, ocean eyes swimming with guilt. The shame that burned beneath the stormy sea made Robert want to hold him, keep him locked away in the high walls of his heart where no one could make him look like that again. Joseph confused him inside and out.

“Late?” Robert asked, the question falling from numb lips. “Bitch is always out la-”

He knew Joseph’s meaning, knew what late meant, but his addled brain was slow on the uptake. It wasn’t until he saw the deadpan look Joseph sent his way before the cogs turned and snapped into place.

“Oh…” the breath left him like he’d been punched in the gut. “Oh!”

“Yeah,” Joseph whispered, landing another blow. “That kind of late.”

Robert stared at his clenched fists, unaware of when he’d curled his fingers so tight that his knuckles were white. He straightened them out and wiped suddenly clammy hands on his jeans. Praying, Robert hoped Joseph couldn’t see him tremble.

Unable to sit still anymore, Robert jumped from his perch. He began to pace, wearing a path into the gravel. Joseph stepped near him, as if they were tethered, like something kept them bound together. Joseph reached out to still him, but Robert shook him loose.

“How long?” Robert asked, whirling to face Joseph. The accusation was clear in his tone, but he was afraid to find out. “Like, what’s the time frame?”

Joseph’s hesitancy was confirmation enough. Robert sneered at the man who could never be his, especially not after this.

“You’ve slept with her? Recently, right? What happened to all your promises?” Robert spat, his vehemence even shocking to him. When Joseph cringed, Robert almost wanted to take it all back, whisper “I’m sorry” and leave it at that. But he had broken through the dam and couldn’t stop now.

“I should’ve known you were still porkin’ her. Fuck, Joe, I’m so stupid for believing I was good enough for you.”

“She’s my wife,” Joseph said lamely, eyes glued to the tip of a fancy boat shoe. Typical. The golden boy couldn’t even look him in the eye. Somehow, that made Robert hurt even worse.

“It was the one time since we’ve been... whatever we are. I slipped once.”

“Yeah, well, once is enough.” Robert said tersely. “Couldn’t even wrap it, could ya?”

“I’m sorry,” Joseph began, but was cut off before he could even think to continue.

“That’s fucking typical,” Robert spat. “You’re sorry? I’m sick of this shit, Joe.”

Despite his worst thoughts, Robert was worth more than this. He didn’t deserve to be treated this way, to be the ‘other woman.’ So why did the thought of losing Joseph hurt so much?

“This is it. Decision time. It’s either her or me. You can’t keep having it both ways.”

Joseph looked at him like he was a wounded animal. For someone taller than him, Joseph sure did look small. A pang of guilt thrummed through his chest, catching his anger in his throat.

“Rob, I… She’s…” Joseph hung his head. “I can’t. It’s my child, my family.”

Robert inhaled sharply, rocking back onto his heels as if Joseph had socked him in the jaw. His chest hurt and he couldn’t seem to catch his breath.

“That’s bull shit, and you know it,” Robert said through the knot in his throat, anger sparking in amber eyes. “Were they not your family back then? When we fucked that night, right here in the back of my truck?”

Joseph shrank away from him, stepping back at the tidal wave of rage behind Robert’s words. Robert wished he could swallow his tongue, cut it from his mouth so that it could never hurt Joseph again. But, he’d already gone too far, had already said too much. There was no fixing it now, so Robert might as well make it worse, right?

“You know what? I’m done with this. You can have your perfect fucking family,” Robert said, pulling his jacket tight around him. He felt numb, cold, as he squared his shoulders, barreling passed Joseph for the driver’s side door. “Don’t come crying to me when this shit goes south.”

He met no resistance as he climbed into his Ford and started the engine. Joseph stood there, eyes sad and mouth slack. Why wasn’t he trying to stop him? Why was Joseph letting him get away?

“Call me when you pull your head outta your ass,” Robert shouted out the open window, throwing his truck into gear and pulling out of his spot with a spray of dust and gravel. He hoped a rock hit Joseph.

He rapped a hand on the dashboard, fighting the sting behind his tired eyes. Rounding the bend, Robert refused to watch Joseph disappear in the rearview mirror, leaving behind his heart and his meaning as he left. Jim and Kim’s and a bottle of Jack never sounded any better.

So, that was my sad. It's what I'm good at. Honestly, I have three other stories in the works that I started weeks ago. But I thought of this and wrote it in a day. Fluff is apparently tough for me ha...

If you liked this story, please visit my page. (Everything is Destiel and it all hurts.)

Ciao!

[wryt3rsbl0ck]

Title: Late Author: SxyMo0finMan Rating: T Word Count: 1541 Summary:  ‘We need to talk. Meet me @ the overlook? After dark. 9 PM? ~Joseph’ Author’s Note:  This is based on a conversation Mortal Remedy and I were having. I was making him sad with mock confrontations between our Bad Dadz.

Please check out mine and his story series on AO3. He’s got one story up and so do I, now. Tell us what you think!

http://archiveofourown.org/series/804090

                                                           *~*~*

Robert’s heart thrummed agonizingly in his chest as he pulled up to the rendezvous spot overlooking the city. For once, he was early in his life and he hated himself for it. Now it was just him and his thoughts as he waited for headlights to show around the bend.

Joseph had sent out an S.O.S. earlier in the day. Robert had felt as if his phone would burn a hole through his hand, mind having immediately kicked into overdrive. Something was up, something was wrong. Robert just knew it, felt it in his tired bones. Joseph’s message had been vague, but Robert couldn’t still the quake he felt, like the world was vibrating apart under his feet.

‘We need to talk. Meet me @ the overlook? After dark. 9 PM? ~Joseph’

His breath stopped in his throat when Joseph rounded the corner, slowing his van to a stop beside him. Robert caught Joseph’s eyes in the glow of his van’s overhead light before it blacked out. Robert didn’t like the tightness around Joseph’s eyes, nor the lack of a smile at his lips.

Oh boy… This was going to be rough.

Robert reluctantly opened his truck door, climbing out from the safety of his truck’s cab. He really didn’t want to face the world outside. Inside his old Ford was safe, was familiar. Home. Like a salve that healed all his wounds, real and imaginary, and kept the walls up and solid around him.

Joseph was waiting for him at the end of his truck bed, arms wrapped around his chest. Robert couldn’t help but feel that Joseph was holding himself together, like something was tearing him apart from the inside. He could see the guilt etched in perfectly sculpted features.

Without saying a word, Robert brushed passed Joseph to lower the tailgate. He hopped up onto the edge, hands clasped in his lap. Joseph silently sat beside him, taking a similar pose, head down, thumbs twiddling in lap.

Silence. There was no sound aside from the crickets in the trees. A boat horn sounded somewhere down in the marina, Robert turning to watch as a yacht pulled into a slip. Why hadn’t Joseph even said hello?

“You said we needed to talk?” Robert spoke after a moment, the lack of sound driving him mad. He watched out of his peripheral vision as Joseph shifted uncomfortably beside him. He turned to watch the other, catching Joseph’s gaze before the other could look away. Robert swallowed thickly, his stomach doing a nervous tumble.

“What is it?” he implored, forgetting that he hadn’t wanted to appear desperate. But Joseph held his heart at its strings, Robert knew. Joseph could destroy him with a single pull, unraveling all his ramshackle walls held in place by nothing but a boyish hope.

“You can tell me, Joe…”

Joseph gave a dry laugh, left hand moving to run through sandy blond strands. Moonlight sparked off of the gold band on his ring finger and Robert cringed at the visceral reminder of the claim that lay on Joseph. Joseph could never be his, he knew. The other had a wife, a family, and here he was to muck it all up. Pathetic.

“Yeah, we need to talk,” Joseph said, pausing to gather his thoughts. Robert couldn’t help feel like the jilted teenage lover. “Are you breaking up with me?!” rang sharply through his ears. He wanted to double over, whether with laughter or pain, Robert wasn’t sure. This was it, wasn’t it? This was the culmination of all his fears.

Joseph roughly combed his hair with his fingers, agitatedly rubbing at the back of his neck as he searched for the right words to say. His jaw worked noticeably as he stared at the marina lights. Robert was afraid to know what had Joseph, who was normally the cool one while he overreacted, so riled up.

“Spit it out,” Robert commanded, the not knowing of what was ahead eating him up.

Joseph sighed, shoulders sagging under an immense weight. His hands fell into his lap and he examined them intently, not wanting to watch Robert fall apart.

“Mary’s….” the pause was agony, Robert’s mind racing through all the extremes. Joseph swallowed hard.

“Mary’s late.”

The words made Robert dumb. He couldn’t comprehend. Didn’t want to comprehend. Joseph caught his gaze, ocean eyes swimming with guilt. The shame that burned beneath the stormy sea made Robert want to hold him, keep him locked away in the high walls of his heart where no one could make him look like that again. Joseph confused him inside and out.

“Late?” Robert asked, the question falling from numb lips. “Bitch is always out la-”

He knew Joseph’s meaning, knew what late meant, but his addled brain was slow on the uptake. It wasn’t until he saw the deadpan look Joseph sent his way before the cogs turned and snapped into place.

“Oh…” the breath left him like he’d been punched in the gut. “Oh!”

“Yeah,” Joseph whispered, landing another blow. “That kind of late.”

Robert stared at his clenched fists, unaware of when he’d curled his fingers so tight that his knuckles were white. He straightened them out and wiped suddenly clammy hands on his jeans. Praying, Robert hoped Joseph couldn’t see him tremble.

Unable to sit still anymore, Robert jumped from his perch. He began to pace, wearing a path into the gravel. Joseph stepped near him, as if they were tethered, like something kept them bound together. Joseph reached out to still him, but Robert shook him loose.

“How long?” Robert asked, whirling to face Joseph. The accusation was clear in his tone, but he was afraid to find out. “Like, what’s the time frame?”

Joseph’s hesitancy was confirmation enough. Robert sneered at the man who could never be his, especially not after this.

“You’ve slept with her? Recently, right? What happened to all your promises?” Robert spat, his vehemence even shocking to him. When Joseph cringed, Robert almost wanted to take it all back, whisper “I’m sorry” and leave it at that. But he had broken through the dam and couldn’t stop now.

“I should’ve known you were still porkin’ her. Fuck, Joe, I’m so stupid for believing I was good enough for you.”

“She’s my wife,” Joseph said lamely, eyes glued to the tip of a fancy boat shoe. Typical. The golden boy couldn’t even look him in the eye. Somehow, that made Robert hurt even worse.

“It was the one time since we’ve been... whatever we are. I slipped once.”

“Yeah, well, once is enough.” Robert said tersely. “Couldn’t even wrap it, could ya?”

“I’m sorry,” Joseph began, but was cut off before he could even think to continue.

“That’s fucking typical,” Robert spat. “You’re sorry? I’m sick of this shit, Joe.”

Despite his worst thoughts, Robert was worth more than this. He didn’t deserve to be treated this way, to be the ‘other woman.’ So why did the thought of losing Joseph hurt so much?

“This is it. Decision time. It’s either her or me. You can’t keep having it both ways.”

Joseph looked at him like he was a wounded animal. For someone taller than him, Joseph sure did look small. A pang of guilt thrummed through his chest, catching his anger in his throat.

“Rob, I… She’s…” Joseph hung his head. “I can’t. It’s my child, my family.”

Robert inhaled sharply, rocking back onto his heels as if Joseph had socked him in the jaw. His chest hurt and he couldn’t seem to catch his breath.

“That’s bull shit, and you know it,” Robert said through the knot in his throat, anger sparking in amber eyes. “Were they not your family back then? When we fucked that night, right here in the back of my truck?”

Joseph shrank away from him, stepping back at the tidal wave of rage behind Robert’s words. Robert wished he could swallow his tongue, cut it from his mouth so that it could never hurt Joseph again. But, he’d already gone too far, had already said too much. There was no fixing it now, so Robert might as well make it worse, right?

“You know what? I’m done with this. You can have your perfect fucking family,” Robert said, pulling his jacket tight around him. He felt numb, cold, as he squared his shoulders, barreling passed Joseph for the driver’s side door. “Don’t come crying to me when this shit goes south.”

He met no resistance as he climbed into his Ford and started the engine. Joseph stood there, eyes sad and mouth slack. Why wasn’t he trying to stop him? Why was Joseph letting him get away?

“Call me when you pull your head outta your ass,” Robert shouted out the open window, throwing his truck into gear and pulling out of his spot with a spray of dust and gravel. He hoped a rock hit Joseph.

He rapped a hand on the dashboard, fighting the sting behind his tired eyes. Rounding the bend, Robert refused to watch Joseph disappear in the rearview mirror, leaving behind his heart and his meaning as he left. Jim and Kim’s and a bottle of Jack never sounded any better.

[theeternalsun]

VERY LONG CHARACTER SURVEY.

RULES. repost —— don’t reblog. tag ten people. TAGGED BY. @crownviper​ ( thank you <3 ) TAGGING. @uthnan @doomedfist @arsuledin @banalvhen @scoiakrol @poenitentium

BASICS.

FULL NAME: she gives none. Main verse: before joining Falon’din she was called Elgara’uthaan, which means eternal sun. Modern and all verses like it: Ehinonmen, a nigerian name which means ‘messenger of god’. NICKNAME/S: priestess, though I would not call it a nickname per se and more like a title which she has had many. AGE: Looks like she is in her mid 40ties. Main verse: late 8000. Modern and all verses like it: mid 40ties. BIRTHDAY:   Main verse: not even she knows, back in her day people did not celebrate birthdays. Modern and all verses like it: 28th of December ( the year depends on the verse ) ETHNIC GROUP: Main verse: Ancient Elvhen ( back then she would have been identified as a Western one and considering those lands were controlled by Elgar’nan, that would also be taken into account ). Modern and all verses like it: Yoruba. NATIONALITY: Main verse: Her land had no name and she refuses to use the modern name. Modern and all verses like it: Nigerian.

LANGUAGE/S:  Main verse: Common, Elvhen, Ancient Tevene Modern and all verses like it: English, Hausa, Yoruba and a small bit of portuguese.  SEXUAL ORIENTATION:  Hetero-flexible. ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Biromantic ( this is so rare to happen in general but it’s even more towards women, so if there is even a word for that let me know rip ) RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Widow. CLASS: Low-class. HOMETOWN / AREA:  Main verse: Nowadays it would be called Seere in Rivain. Modern and all verses like it: Lagos. CURRENT HOME:  Main verse: different elvhen temples spread out across Thedas. Modern and all verses like it: New Orleans PROFESSION: General, priestess, just put whatever name she needs to be in order to get shit done here.

PHYSICAL.

HAIR: Black and extremely curly. EYES: Black ( boy don’t get me started on her eyes, I will never shut up ) NOSE: I don’t know how to describe noses rip. It’s scarred like most of her body really. FACE: Oval, though extremely sunken due to the years of abuse, self harm and lack of care towards her own self. LIPS: Full, all things considered, though nothing that you will see described as seductive. The skin is mostly broken either due to the scarring or the bite marks that have been left. Wounds from the cold and wind. COMPLEXION: She constantly looks like she is fighting some sort of illness, mostly due to how skinny she is. BLEMISHES: Nope. SCARS and TATTOOS: Her full body and face are covered in vallas’lin ( blood writing ) ( also here ), they once were all black with a few details of white and gold. Those same details are mostly gone, like most of the details in general on her vallas’lin. They resemble now random lines over her skin than anything else considering that her body is completely covered in scars. She doesn’t have a single piece of skin that is not torn either by her own hand or at the hand of others ( she does have 8000 years of experience in either war or fighting to survive in the streets ). She has three that she hides under golden bands ( on her neck and wrists ) which will never fully heal. On particularly ugly one going from her right temple down to her chin and circling her face. There are also multiple burn marks though they are very very old and barely noticeable. HEIGHT: 5′0″ / 150 centimeters. WEIGHT: she spends most of all o her current verses as underweight, regaining muscle and mass as they go. BUILD: After long stages of being locked up or sleeping her muscles have suffered with the inactivity and the abuse, she is incredibly skeletal and it’s something that still causes her skin to crawl. She had a very muscular build before all of the unfortunate events that followed the fall of the Elvhen empire and she aims to regain it. ALLERGIES: N/A. USUAL HAIRSTYLE: Depends, when her hair is long she either wears dreadlocks or thin braids, if the hair is short then it’s basically non-existent. USUAL EXPRESSION: Serious and quick to turn to snarky from its neutral tone ( with heavy tendencies to just roll her eyes ) USUAL CLOTHING: Unless sleeping ( which happens once in a blue moon ) she uses heavy armour beneath heavy robes ( or light ones, depending of the weather of the area around the temple that she is around ). No shoes unless it’s for an actual job ( like ambushes or actual pushes with armies. She is not stupid and she will not be caught dead fighting bare feet unless there’s a very good reason for it ). If she is a relaxed mood she might use clothing that is more traditional when it comes to rivaini clothing ( colourful, loose ) but those are very rare occasions and only reserved to people that spend some time in the temple and in festivities with her.

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR/S: Failing her people again, loosing control of her own self, madness. ASPIRATION/S: *slams fists* BRING BACK THE ELVHEN GLORY. POSITIVE TRAITS: Loyal, caring, idealistic, too smart for her own good, a good listener. NEGATIVE TRAITS: She is....... well, no point in beating around the bush, racist as fuck towards humans most of the time, unless they show that they deserve her respect she is just very: well, you all are just not worth the air you are breathing. Zealot, bigot, violent when her buttons are even slightly pressed about certain subjects... MBTI: INTJ.    ZODIAC: Capricorn. TEMPERAMENT: Choleric. SOUL TYPE/S: The Warrior and The King. ( sorry for copy pasting but it is the same rip ) ANIMAL: Owl. VICE/S: Violence. FAITH:  Main verse: The elvhen religion towards the Creators. Modern and verses like it: always variations of it. GHOSTS? Yes. AFTERLIFE? Yes, but not quite like people think of it. REINCARNATION? Yes, but not quite like people think of it. ALIENS? shrugs off to infinity. POLITICAL ALIGNMENT: To keep herself as far away from politics as possible. She doesn’t care as long as one does not dare to speak against the Gods. ECONOMIC PREFERENCE: Poverty when she was young, now she is lower class by choice. SOCIOPOLITICAL POSITION: To keep herself as far away from politics as possible.x2 EDUCATION LEVEL:  In all verses she drops out of school ( or she never had it until she was an adult already ). Main verse: she only obtains formal education when she is a young adult after joining Falon’din’s temple. She still can’t read well, she was much better at physical classes and that was why she rose so quickly onto their military ranks. Modern and verses like it: Dropout, she is joined the army as soon as she could and it was then that she got more education.

FAMILY.

FATHER: Despite being caring he was very much so around her mother’s thumb. Dedicated to Elgar’nan more because of his wife’s desires than himself. Hardworking, she still remembers how his hands were completely torn from working in the fields and how he snuck some grapes for her before delivering them to the temples. She remembers his face clearly, especially his smile, that is the image that she holds onto considering that the last time that the priestess saw her father or mother they were both dead. He was hanged over a tree in front of her village alongside her mother after she was discovered to be one of Falon’din’s Generals. MOTHER: Strick and a fanatic, she is the reason why the priestess still knows all the prayers to Elgar’nan, why she participated in all the festivals in His honour and how she still could do all the dances with her eyes closed. Their relationship was extremely tense, the priests often accused her of stealing and the punishments were harsh. She denied that she was her daughter after Elgara ran from home at 8 years of age ( which is basically a baby in elvhen years really ). SIBLING/S: N/A. EXTENDED FAMILY: She didn’t have any, single daughter and disavowed when she was really, really young when she refused to join Elgar’nan’s temple and fled. NAME MEANING/S: already explained *finger guns* HISTORICAL CONNECTION: N/A.

FAVORITES.

BOOK: She has a very hard time reading, I doubt she would read much other than technical books related to fighting. MOVIE: Not really a movie person. 5 SONGS: All of them would be elvhen songs and prayer songs. DEITY: Falon’din. MONTH: She doesn’t care. SEASON: Summer. PLACE: Rivain. WEATHER: Blazing heat that leaves people wanting to have their heads down towards the floor. Give her incredibly uncomfortable summer. SOUND: Silence. SCENT/S: Spicy food, grapes, wild flowers. TASTE/S: *SLAMS FISTS* SPICY CHICKEN OR FISH. FEEL/S: Mindfulness and control over herself and others.  ANIMAL/S: Owls and ravens. NUMBER: ?? fuck your numbers. COLOR: Gold.

EXTRA.

TALENTS: Manipulating people into her little death cult. killing people, extracting information, mothering people ( or so I’ve heard ), terrifying people without even opening her mouth. Having a mad side eye glare. It’s a beautiful talent. BAD AT: Trying to explain how the elvhen slavery was different than the Tevinter one ( lol what is even htis??? comparing elves to humans?? ge - ge t out of my face u heathen ), remaining calm when anyone talks shit about the Twins and actually doesn’t lay off after she tries to explain the situation, knowing when to stop, resisting temptation when it comes to the people around her and what she should or should not keep them so closely. She does terrible and selfish choices even when she knows that things are going to end up badly. I MEAN, IF SHIT IS GOING TO END IN FIRE, FUCK IT AMIRITE. TURN-ONS: Having the ability to kick ass, age ( yes, she really just.... most of you are kiddies but if at least some of you look like you have passed your first century then it might be acceptable. Maybe ), experience, ability to defend one self and others, courage, dutifulness. jUST if you have ever lead a successful battle she is probably: what a wonderful being right here *good shit meme right here* TURN-OFFS: I will never leave this place *stares at the sun* She hates smartmouthed humans, people that make themselves be scarier or more powerful than they are, people that think that being in a war and being edgy just to look cool, being from Tevinter in general, talking shit about religion or beliefs even if it’s not her own ( though her own will probably get you a punch ). A lot of complaining a little doing. The list is long..... HOBBIES: Drawing and kick people’s butts. TROPES: this would probably be a good time to say that I don’t watch series and that I have never..... really..... went into tropes so I have..... no idea. AESTHETIC TAGS: you’ll no longer fear when your heart’s turned to gold ( about )

FC INFO.

MAIN FC/S: Tracy Ifeachor. ALT FC/S: Maria Borges, Julia Noni, Grace Bol. OLDER FC/S: She doesn’t age :’) and I don’t think she will reach old age rip. YOUNGER FC/S: Little Simz. VOICE CLAIM/S: Ahh I don’t know, I never thought about this! GENDERBENT FC/S: Nope.