#barely restrained by the fact that her dad is a cop

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

More:

My brother was with a girl who threw things at him and constantly hit him. And he would just stand there and take it because he didn't want to hit her back knowing what the result would be. My sisters didn't like that so they went after her. Huge fight among them, but my brother still didn't break up with her. She finally chose drugs over him and left. At least for my brother we all believed him. But I doubt other people would.

His current GF (might be an ex now, waiting to hear back), hit him and then threatened to tell the cops he hit her. She's an alcoholic and would fight everyone. She went after my niece and they called the cops, and the first thing the cops did when they got there was arrest my brother, who had just gotten home from work. My mom came out screaming at them that he didn't do anything. But that's how bad it is, they go after the first male they see for a domestic violence case when it was between two women,!

-

I was 15, sexually abused by my manager at my first job, one of the biggest fast food joints, Not once, but four times. Someone spotted the abuse and reported it to corporate and she got a promotion. I quit and my father ignored it. Police said the company handled it. Men who are abused are ignored... because it’s not “supposed to be possible”

-

I once had to do a presentation for a gender studies sort of course, and so having a friend who was abused by his girlfriend I chose to discuss the double standard in physical abuse. You'd think I was the devil incarnate - the women in the class glared and glared and glared for me raising the possibility that a woman hitting a man should be taken seriously.

-

My dad went through something like this. She threw plates and a bunch of other random objects at him, he was bleeding in several places and she called the police.

Despite that me and all of her kids told police that she was the aggressor they didn't care. He was arrested and a restraining order was on him before he even got out a few days later. We ended up homeless and lived in an old boxing ring for about 2 weeks before our local church helped out.

It was also his 3rd time dealing with police completely ignoring him when a woman was aggressive. It made me feel like women could just do anything they want as I grew up and I completely avoided them and relationships in general for a long time.

I'm 38 now and it still makes me uneasy

-

I lost my virginity bc a girl (who I had said NO to) mounted up and rode me while I was passed out drunk. I woke up from what I thought was a wet dream finishing inside her with no protection. It messed with me pretty hard because I'd been trying to save my virginity for a serious girlfriend or someone other than just some girl I barely knew. Not to mention the fact that I had no idea if I was about to be an unwilling father (thankfully that was not the case).

My friends just kind of said "well...at least you got laid, right?". I can't really blame them because it took a while (like, years) for me to even realize that what happened was clearly rape. Wrapping our college-age heads around the fact a guy could get raped was tough, I guess.

I also got sexually harassed by a pair of women at a job in college and telling people about it was met with attempts to high-five me.

-

Laughed at, mocked, put down. Even had video of her hitting/kicking/ abusing me and people just made fun of me and the situation even worse. It was not real to them.

-

The sexual abuse hotline counselor asked me if I was even into women when I told her what happened and then made excuses for her bc “she was drunk and acting on instinct”.

-

Tried to tell a few people. No one really believed me in my circle of friends. They were able to convince their friends that I was the abuser. The last straw was when they used a taser. That shit hurts and left burns. That truly was the last straw because it left enough evidence that I could use to document the abuse and get out. Without physical evidence it was word against word and as the male, no one believed me.

-

They didn’t believe me at first. And then they saw her do it to me. Her friends believed me before my own friends did. They said that they knew she was like that and that she was aggressive and physically abusive to them sometimes and her own mother.

I was with her for 18 months of hell. At first it was normal and cute and fun and then she started being really strange. First it was telling me I couldn’t have friends who are girls. Then it was I couldn’t have friends. Then it was the hitting and punching and kicking me. She said she was pregnant before she was pregnant and didn’t let me use protection with her and if I wasn’t into fucking her then she’d just fuck me anyways.

The kicker that really stuck with me all these years is when she was beating the fuck out of me and accidentally called her mom and she heard her yelling and screaming and thought I was hurting her so she called the police and her parents and police both showed up at my house asking if everything was okay and if I was hurting her. She said confidently “He didn’t hurt me I was hitting him” and the police and her parents both just kinda accepted that and told her to leave my house and go back to her parents for the night. No arrests. No talking to her about how wrong it was. Just a slap on the wrist after flat out telling police she was hitting me. Didn’t ask if I wanted to press charges. Didn’t ask if I was okay. Just were relieved it wasn’t me hitting her.

-

I had been attacked by now ex wife. I said something that made her mad and it wasn't the first time. She hit me in the back of the head with a rolling pin. I yelled and the neighbors called the cops. When they arrived I was still beading. I was then handcuffed and sat on the curb while they investigated the issue. My ex eventually confessed she hit me because she was mad at me. I never raised a hand at her during the incident but I was then taken to the police station and I was booked. I was released the next day after they determined i wasn't the aggressor. I was told on my release that if I antagonize her again its my fault and I deserve what I get.

-

Continued:

https://www.reddit.com/r/AskReddit/comments/jidoph/men_who_are_abused_by_woman_and_tried_to_tell/

=

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Duluth_model

The feminist theory underlying the Duluth Model is that men use violence within relationships to exercise power and control.

According to the Duluth Model, "women and children are vulnerable to violence because of their unequal social, economic, and political status in society."

Criticism of the Duluth Model has centered on the program's sexist insistence that men are perpetrators who are violent because they have been socialized in a patriarchy that condones male violence, and that women are victims who are violent only in self-defense.

https://home.csulb.edu/~mfiebert/htdocs/assaults_bib343_201307.doc

Abstract: This bibliography examines 343 scholarly investigations; 270 empirical studies and 73 reviews and/or analyses, which demonstrate that women are as physically aggressive, or more aggressive, than men in their relationships with their spouses or male partners.  The aggregate sample size in the reviewed studies exceeds 440,850.

#SystemicSexism

[deaneverafter]

Where There's Smoke There's Fire

Beau and Jenny 💕

I don't know, I just love the way Beau always introduces himself and Jenny (helps for me to also remember to not pronounce his name with a French accent 🤣). The way he just says deputy, as he's the sheriff and it's a given that she's his (deputy), so it suffices 🥺 So sexy of him 🔥💘

"Do you mind if I call you Toby?" Why's he so funny for? 🥰🤣

"I know how that goes." Give me more of Beau's backstory! Clearly he's still mourning and feeling guilty. It has got me feeling some type of way. I want to know (in Beau's own words) what happened with Randy, I want him to be able to talk about it with someone who genuinely cares *cough Jenny cough*, so he can start to let go of the misplaced blame he's feeling and heal 😭💔

Beau jumping in to stop the dead guy's dad from doing something he'd regret, and then being there for him, I just love him so much ❤ He's such a good guy, and he's so good at his job. And he understands people 🥺

I love the way Beau and Jenny sit leaning towards each other 🥺💕

They're being good cop, good cop with Walter this episode. I enjoy that.

What was the reason Cassie vented about her boyfriend, and then asked Jenny about Beau, if not to show that there's something there? And that Cassie knows it (and Madge. And Poppernak. And Gigi.)?

Jenny barely restraining herself from reaching out to Beau and comforting him when he was talking about the "victim" blaming himself, you can see her physically reaching out before she stops herself, it says everything. She cares about him so much 🥺💕 If they make her lose him..... (especially when it isn't necessary, Beau can be written out in other ways).

What I really love about the scene with Frank is that though Jenny is surprised and maybe doesn't agree with Beau's reaction, she presents a united front. She doesn't say a word, doesn't undermine & embarrass him by saying anything. She always has his back 🥺 Jenny understands that it affected Beau, and simply stands by him. When they're alone, she gives him a chance to open up and is willing to listen to as much or as little as he wants to share, is there for him & supports him. It shows how much she cares about him & respects him 💕

Seeing how at home Beau and Jenny look in his office together has my heart all 💓🥺

This episode, they literally paralleled a wife who'd stuck with her grieving husband who was in a dark place and blaming himself, with Jenny being there for Beau and supporting him with his guilt and grief, and that's a choice they made so I hope they follow through with it

The chase scene 🔥 I stan 👑💯💅🏻

Beau turning towards Jenny when she's restraining the bad guy, looking to make sure she's okay 🥺

Beau and Jenny sitting together, talking under the shooting stars makes me feel a lot of emotions 🥺💕✨ There's something so sweet and special and wholesome about it. And the fact that Jenny points out the shooting star to him and says "the shooting star", not "a shooting star", meaning they were actually sitting watching the sky, looking for shooting stars, and that just has me feeling all the emotions 💞

Them hanging out together, having a heart to heart, I love that for them and I love that for me 🥺💕

And Jenny once again telling Beau that he's a good person, I love this so much. She's so good for him, they deserve to be happy together 💕 And he called her Jenny again! 🥺 Might our good sheriff be on his way to letting her in completely? 👀

Beau and Jenny have such a complex dynamic, they work so well together as a team, trust each other with their lives, they support each other in hard times, they can flirt and tease, but also have intimate conversations, the sizzling chemistry!🥺💝 Definition of true love. And this episode the Beau/Jenny true love energy intensified. The whole episode, Jenny was so worried and caring, but didn't once push him to share something he wasn't ready to, just was there for him and supported him 🥺

Jenny's getting hurt next week, possibly quite a lot, and if I don't get scenes of Beau worried sick about her, running around unhinged trying to find her, fussing over her, if they're glossed over (because I KNOW he's going to be worried), I riot

And I have to say this, if they're trying to push Beau with his abusive, manipulative ex, then I don't understand why they'd consistently show Jenny having feelings for him. Just to humiliate and hurt her again, have a man pick another woman over her. Again? A third time? I hope the focus on Jenny's feelings for Beau means that they're not going down that route (a route that would be detrimental for him), because I can't imagine someone disrespecting their lead like that, making her the third wheel in a love triangle. That would just be very disrespectful to treat Jenny, a lead, and Beau, a season regular, like that. Especially when there are better ways to write out the character, ways that don't end with Beau in an abusive relationship and Jenny heartbroken. Here's to hoping that if they're showing Beau and Jenny having feelings for each other, and focusing this much on her feelings, then, that there's a reason (Beau/Jenny endgame reason). Not to mention, how ooc it would be if Beau were to suddenly have feelings for his ex, after the way him and Jenny are together. There's the flirting, and the heart to hearts, the trust. The way he looks at her! Beau just isn't the kind of guy to be being this way with someone while being stuck on someone else. I just don't buy it.

Jenny Hoyt a better woman than me, because with the way Emily acts, and the way Carla is always insulting Jenny for no reason, I don't know how she managed to say that Emily is a good kid, or that Carla could ever raise a good kid.

The McCallisters

Beau deserves a better daughter. After all season (and the months during hiatus, the 6 months before), NOW she wants to hang out when she can snoop and use him for an internship? That's not love. Love is what Beau's been showing. Thinking about her, caring, being concerned, trying over and over again to hang out with her, even when she does nothing but dismiss him. That's love. And she doesn't deserve it. And the way Emily would literally stoop to snooping on her own father, no one is safe, I can't with her. And she knows what she's doing is wrong, she knows she's invading his privacy and he wouldn't want her going through his things like this (that's why we see her looking back to make sure he's not coming), and yet, she does it anyway because she has no respect or care for him. I'm very confused about which aspect of this character I'm supposed to find endearing or why I'm supposed to care about her safety. And like, why is she being rewarded for her snooping and encouraged to do some more? Wasn't finding one dead body enough? I truly cannot, she is SO annoying, and I'd prefer to see less, not more, of her 😑 And I hate that they're messing with characterization to do this. They're writing Beau so ooc, just to make Emily more important (as if she wasn't unfairly taking up enough of the focus as it is). This is a man who was ready, every single episode, to get her out of the camp if there was any trouble not at the camp itself, but in the vicinity. He was on the verge of tears when he couldn't get her on the phone, even though service was bad up there. And now he's going to help her be at a detective agency? Yeah, no, that's just not right, I'm sorry, but it's not. And sure, could he be doing it to keep her out of trouble, have the agency essentially babysit her? No, because he's not stupid, and he knows what she's like, so having access to all that stuff, she is going to snoop. And nothing in the way he's been written shows that he'd want that. I just can't, smh.

No, but like, Beau left everything behind, his family, his home, his friends, to live in a cramped trailer in the middle of nowhere for Emily, that's not a big deal. Not a sacrifice worth acknowledging. He did let the cereal expire though, so he truly is the worst, smh. Jail. Jail for a thousand years 😔 And am I to understand that this is the first time Emily is visiting Beau in the past 8-9 months? Because you know she's spoiled enough that if she'd seen it before, she would've whined about it already. Also also, do the writers just think it's funny to make fun of him when these two women are around, or..... because this doesn't make sense. He hasn't even been living in the trailer (or Montana) for a year. So unless he already had a box of expired cereal in his house in Texas, that he decided to lug all the way to Montana, then keep in his cabin for 6 months, and then bring it to the trailer, he couldn't have a box of cereal that expired a year ago. Also, the way it was supposedly his fault that breakfast wasn't ready, except, it was Emily who was too busy snooping to find the grill.......

I hate the way Emily breaks the rules, snoops, gets into "traumatic" situations, it's her and Carla's decision for Emily to not spend time with him. And in the end, it's Beau who sits there feeling guilty and like he's not enough, for things that are a direct result of their actions 😒

Carla (or the people who think Beau going back to her would be a good idea), I truly cannot stand. We have yet to have a singular interaction between Beau and Carla without her being condescending and rude to him, putting him down, not even one, and I'm supposed to believe he's still in love with that? W H Y ? And that's not how the character's written or acted. Every time there's danger at the camp, Beau's all, I have to get my daughter out. He said he had to stay in Montana, for his daughter. He hates Avery and how shady he is, for his daughter. Never once Carla. Sure, Beau wants Carla to be okay, but that's because he's not like her, he doesn't have a need to inflict harm upon her because they're no longer together, AND it's not inherently romantic, quite normal actually, considering they have a kid. I just really hope they're not suddenly going to do a 180 and start to write Beau super out of character and weird, as if he has feelings for that manipulative woman, who has not a single loyal or kind bone in her body, nor any concern or respect for him. Also, why is she once again calling Beau next episode? Go call your husband and ask for his help 🙄 Leave Beau alone. And I don't understand people who want Carla to leave Avery. What are y'all on, he's literally perfect for her. They're a match made in hell, both equally shady, condescending and rude 💏

The Barnes and The Bleeding Heart Killer

Cormac is about to get himself into some trouble...... maybe even the death kind of trouble, and I sure hope not. Hey, @, writers, I will trade you all three of the McCallisters for Cormac. Kill them instead.

Sunny is ready to go full unhinged and I'm ready to see it 😈🔪 Bonus points if she ends up ending Buck.

Something that's so interesting and funny, but also spooky, is just how scared of Sunny Donno is. Donno, who worked for the cartel. Donno, who lived in the back of a butcher shop and thought he heard the animals moving. Donno, who we've seen chop people up with no qualms. But one word from Sunny, and he's so scared. He can sense her darkness.

Sunny and Paige unhinged team up!? 😱 I'd like to see. But Paige really fell for Walter, huh. Maybe not at the "I love you" stage yet, but definitely ready to risk it all to save him. I'd consider Stockholm Syndrome, but if anything, she was manipulating him more than the other way around, soo.... 😈🖤

I don't know yet why Buck has been carving the hearts, but I don't think he's the killer. He's probably been doing that to make Sunny think Walter is just a bit crazier than he is.

And I do have a theory about who the Bleeding Heart Killer is: Walter's adoptive parents. They "hurt" at least Meredith. The killer had several victims whose names we don't know yet. And the killer stopped 20 years ago, right when Walt burned and killed his adoptive parents. And being raised by serial killers would explain.... a lot about why he is the way he is.

[bestworstcase]

I find your thoughts on how the Captain raised Cassandra interesting. I don’t think he’s a bad parent, but he did pass on some traits to Cassandra that are unhealthy. One particular trait being her low opinion on criminals “It’s hard to make decisions when your only friends are convicts and losers.” This black and white mindset is definitely from Cap. Yet Rapunzel isn’t guiltless. She lacks the mindset to truly understand criminals. As shown by her failures to empathize with Varian and Eugene.

oh tbh i don't agree that cass has any particular aversion to crime or people who commit crimes, as a matter of principle, like, the only instances we get of her being disparaging about crime are:

1) dunking on eugene at the beginning of fitzherbert pi, wherein she does call him a "two-bit hood" but taken in context what she's implying is—well the whole exchange goes like this:

CASS: Listen, Raps, if you're trying to find your defining activity, don't listen to this dud, whose whole work history is being a two-bit hood— EUGENE: Oho! 'Two-bit hood?!' Hold the pastry—I'll have you know, Cassandra, Flynn Rider was a legend. CASS: Heh. Key word being 'was.' And... what is it you do now?

the actual sting here is "and what is it you do now?"—i.e. this is cassandra mocking eugene for being lazy, and in constructing THAT insult she actually compares eugene unfavorably to his flynn rider persona. cass obv isn't impressed by the flynn rider legacy, but she's even less impressed by eugene's current laziness and lack of direction. that's what really makes him a "dud" in her eyes.

[see also: cassandra vs eugene, wherein even when cass is fuming at him she rants about his present behavior—his selfishness, arrogance, inconsiderate nature, and laziness—and doesn't so much as mention his criminal past.]

2) suspecting that lance has ulterior motives in return of strongbow, but... lance is:

a) an unrepentant, boastful thief, who b) just got out of prison and c) blatantly tries to pocket valuables right in front of cass, after d) showing up out of the blue to "reconnect" with his old partner-in-crime.

so yeah, cass doesn't trust lance as far as she can throw him, under those circumstances. neither does eugene. &—similar to how cass focuses on eugene's present attitude rather than his past reputation—her suspicion of lance is grounded in her observations of how lance is acting right now.

but once lance decides to turn over a new leaf and stick around? there's zero tension between him and cass. she doesn't continue holding onto these suspicions after lance changes how he acts.

and

3) the "It's hard making decisions when the only friends and advisors you have left are ex-convicts and losers" line which... i think does need to be taken into context as something cass says in the same episode where she kidnaps varian and calls him a loser because he failed to murder her two years prior? cassandra in CR is deeply entrenched in a mindset that rapunzel and corona both suck and varian is a pathetic coward for reconciling with her and anyone willing to align themselves with coronan law is her enemy—so her sneering about ex-convicts mere hours before she starts attacking and kidnapping and drugging and attempting to murder people really seems like it's the EX part that she's disgusted by, in her current frame of mind.

& on the flip side, well, consider the following:

1. cassandra herself is a criminal. like, she commits treason. in before ever after. sneaking rapunzel outside the city in the middle of the night and almost getting the princess killed, when the king gave specific orders that rapunzel was to stay within the walls? treason. that's why cass is so terrified of the secret getting out!!

2. cass never once expresses reservations about the pub thugs, who according to the film are specifically violent criminals. nor does she have any issue consorting with the, at the very least morally somewhat grimy types the challenge of the brave attracts.

3. speaking of the pub thugs, cass takes it for granted that attila is guilty of the crimes he's been accused of but readily supports rapunzel's quest to clear his name regardless. also just... look at how gleeful she is about the damage done to monty's shop:

"yeah! our friend sure did wreck this place! :D" jkghsdkf

3. the one time we see her do investigative work on her own, she does head for the snuggly duckling to ask questions—which is logical, bc the pub thugs are literal bandits with whom she has some personal rapport, and in a weird missing people situation with zero real leads, talking to friendly acquaintances who are basically decent but have spotty legal histories and bad reputations is a good first step; criminals gossip too, and one of them might well have heard rumors about kidnappings—but the instant she hears that one of their own is also missing she immediately includes the missing bandit as one of the victims she's trying to find.

what she doesn't do is shrug of ulf's disappearance as unimportant (bc he's just some criminal who cares) or probably irrelevant (bc banditry gets people killed all the time) or anything similarly dismissive the way someone who had a genuine bias in this regard might. like, just compare the way cass interacts with the pub thugs in PB to the way cap interacts with them in ruthless ruth, how at ease she is around them vs how uncomfortable and disparaging he is.

4. she's horrified when she learns that her dad has been acting as frederic's secret police, demands that he answer rapunzel's questions, and later tells him that he disappointed her—which is absolutely not indicative of the kind of law-above-all mindset you need to believe that criminals are intrinsically bad people or worth less than law-abiding folk.

5. in goodbye and goodwill, cass incites a street brawl for fun and then boasts to the sheriff that she injured twenty-three people. her idea of a good time includes things like a piranha dunk tank and a human piñata!

gkjhsl all of which is to say that—despite cassandra's aspirations of joining the guard—she's not particularly lawful, nor does she seem to harbor any serious prejudices against people who break the law; she herself enjoys violence, revels in destruction, and glibly flouts direct orders from the king when she thinks she can get away with it; and that's all BEFORE her villain arc. and, sure, she nominally cares about upholding the law—while people are watching, when her dad in particular is watching, or when she's actively performing duties for the royal guard—but... that's not the same as being prejudiced against people with criminal pasts or even just people she perceives as criminals. and like it bears repeating that cassandra's establishing character moment involves her committing treason, lmao.

[rapunzel is interesting in this regard bc she is far more trusting than cassandra—in that she uncritically trusts anyone who seems vaguely nice—but i think she also has a far more black and white perspective on morality than cassandra does. she's invested in Redeeming Criminals because they're Doing Wrong and Helping Them Is The Right Thing To Do but then we also see with like, lady caine and the separatists and even the baron that she isn't particularly interested in really engaging with the factors that cause people to break the law and her approach to redemption amounts mostly to 'offer second chance, then lock them up if they seem unrepentant or unwilling to immediately and completely reform'; even with her much more determined effort to get through to cass the most rapunzel ever did was say 'stop doing these bad things' until it finally worked.]

[xoxo-teddybear]

4 weeks - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: SMUT, cursing, needy Bakugou, 18+, sub!bakugou, dom!f!reader, oral, use of viagra, NOT SPELL CHECKED (sorry >w<)

Summary: Bakugou done fucked up and now he has to pay the price..sorta

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

A/N: just for the sake of the story, your quirk is “Command.” As long as you come into physical contact with your opponent, even for a second, you can command them to do your bidding until you say “rebel.”

“WHAAAATTTTT??????!!!!!!”

You could’ve sworn the whole house, scratch that, the whole world shook as Bakugou screamed at you.

Bakugou had fucked up. During a little heated session, things got a little too rough. As Bakugou was railing you from the back, he tugged at your hair. However, along with your soft locks, he pulled on your thin necklace chain that was gifted to you by your precious 5 year old son. The chain broke and Bakugou didn’t even tell you. He opted to have you both finish before he even mentioned the broken gift.

And now it was the next day and Katsuo, your son, had noticed the missing necklace. It did hurt him a bit especially considering he did so much to earn money and go with grandma to buy the necklace but he assured you it was okay. You sent him off to his room to play as you walked to the kitchen to scold and punish your husband. As you complained to him, he conversed with you as his back was facing you and only turned when he heard your punishment for him.

“You heard me. 4 weeks. No sex, no touching, no hugs or kisses, no nothing. No. Physical. Contact.” You said with a stern and nonchalant face. Your arms were crossed as you faced your husband who looked at you with an open mouth and open palms.

“Wha- but- WHY???” He whined.

“Katsuki come on! You broke my very expensive necklace!” You said, gesturing to your now bare neck.

“Who cares if it was expensive, I could buy you another one! We’re pros Y/N, we could buy a unicorn if we wanted!” Bakugou argued as he was still trying to get out of his punishment. You only crossed your arms and pressed your fingers into your forehead.

“That’s not the point! It’s the fact that even though it was so expensive, our 5 year old son still bought it! And so because you broke it, this is your punishment.” You explained. Bakugou groaned as he threw his head back and huffed towards the ceiling when an idea came to his mind.

“You know..” he began as he walked towards you, “I broke that necklace, on accident, because I was so focused on pleasuring my queen. Anndddd I could make it up to you in the exact same way~” He attempted to wrap his arms around your waist but you spun around and stepped behind him resulting in him stumbling forward. He turned towards you and growled.

“Really Katsuki? You’re gonna snarl at me? Look, you know the rules, so follow them. Now I’m going with Katsuo to get him a new toy to cheer him up, you just...heh, sit in your room and think about what you’ve done.” You teased. You grabbed your purse and had Katsuo get ready. Once he was done you told him to get into the car and you walked to Katsuki to say bye. You smirked as you looked at him and pressed your hands against his chest. You slowly went in for a kiss and Bakugou looked at you in shock before he smirked and leaned in too. But just as your lips were about to touch, you pulled away and walked to the door. As you opened it you turned to him and spoke.

“No kisses. Remember?” You grinned at him. He snarled and picked up a pillow off the couch and threw it towards you but you shut the door before it could reach you. This was gonna be a long 4 weeks for Katsuki.

—

Katsuki awoken to his gorgeous wife....sleeping on the other side of the bed far..far away from him. No touching meant no sleepy time cuddles either. It had already been like this for a week. He looked a little closer at her sleeping figure and smiled at her peaceful state. He scooted closer and he tucked his head into your neck and wrapped his arm around your waist. Or more like he tried to. The second his arm made contact with your body for cuddles, you woke up and smacked his hand away.

“Ah! Y/N!! This isn’t fair!” He whined. He looked at his arm and saw a little red shade forming as he pouted at you. You turned towards your doting husband and just gave him a stern look.

“Who broke my necklace?” Bakugou sighed and flopped onto the bed on his back as he faced the ceiling.

“Me.”

“And now who has to pay the price?”

“Me.” He pouted again. You chuckled as you got up and stretched.

“Stop pouting Suki. You’re not Katsuo.” You giggled but he only looked at you with the same pout.

“He’s my carbon copy, we’re basically the same person.” You smiled at your humorous husband and he smiled seeing the grin that bestowed your face. You kneeled on the bed and leaned into him. You placed your hands on his chest as you got close to his face.

“You’ll survive, Love.” You said and then gave him a loving kiss. His eyes went wide at the surprise contact but he quickly smiled into the kiss and returned it as he shut his eyes to enjoy it. You intensified the kiss but when Katsuki went to pull you in closer by your neck, you quickly backed away. He looked at you in shock before whining again.

“Okay, first of all, I thought you said no touching.” He growled as he clenched his fist.

“I said you couldn’t touch. Never said anything about me,” you said with a cocky grin. Bakugou’s face went red at your devious actions.

“Okay well what the fuck? You can’t just kiss me like that and stop after I already went a whole week without touching you. Come back here,” he said as he tried to grab onto your wrist but you backed up and walked to your bedroom door.

“Get ready for the day love, this is just the beginning.”

—

Mitsuki and Masaru had just arrived. Katsuki was sitting on the couch trying to distract himself with the TV while you were in the kitchen making a smoothie when door bell rang. You opened the door greeting your in-laws with love and expectance.

“Hi Mom! Dad! Come in! Katsuo is almost done packing his bags,” you happily said as you stepped to the side to allow your mother and father in law to enter.

“Umm, what? Why is my son packing his bags?” Katsuki asked as he stood from the couch.

“Y/N didn’t tell you? We called a few nights ago asking to bring Katsuo on a trip. She said yes and told us she’d tell you about it later,” Masaru explained. Katsuki jerked his head towards Y/N in disbelief as she placed her hand on the side of cheek and spoke.

“Oops! I guess I forgot,” you said with sarcasm dripping in your voice. Mitsuki and Masaru believed you but when they turned to face their son again your mischievous grin returned as you also faced Katsuki. He was silently fuming as he watched you go from angel to devil in a second.

“Ah well, who cares. Point is, we’re here to pick up my grandson!” Mitsuki said as she took a seat on the couch. You all made small talk but Katsuki continued to stand as he processed just how conniving his wife was.

“Mama! I’m all set!” Katsuo said as he came down the stairs with his little suitcase and teddy bear in hand.

“Hi baby! Grandma and Grandpa are already here,” you said and Katsuo excitedly ran to his grandparents.

“Grandma! Grandpa!” Katsuo said as he jumped into their arms.

“Ohh, hello my little firecracker!” Mitsuki said, greeting her grandson. “Ready for a vacation in Rio?”

“Mhm!” Katsuo quickly replied but Katsuki just stuttered in shock before he spoke again.

“Woah- wait? Rio? You’re taking him to Brazil? That’s across the globe, how long are you guys gonna be gone?” Katsuki asked with concern. Not for his son, he completely trusted his parents with his child and he knew they would have fun. He was worried for himself. Taking care of Katsuo was a distraction for Katsuki. Watching his son kept his mind off of wrecking Y/N. If his son was away for too long, he didn’t know how long he would survive his punishment.

“We’ll be gone for about 3 weeks. Don’t worry, we’ll be back before you know it.” Masaru said.

“Wha- huh? 3 WEEKS?! .....Y/N you little satan,” he whispered the last part. He turned to face you and saw a Cheshire grin on your face. His face turned red and you swore you could see steam leave Katsuki’s ears but you continued as if everything was normal.

“Alright well, we’ll be going now!” Mitsuki said as she stood alongside her husband. Katsuo said his partings with his parents and they said their “I love you’s” before their son walked out the door with his grandparents. Katsuo was about to have the time of his life while Katsuki was left to suffer.

Y/N was seated on the couch as Katsuki was still seething. She held a grin on her face as Katsuki slowly turned to look at her.

“You got some explaining to do, princess,” he said adding poison to the loving nickname. You only smiled some more as you stood and walked to your husband. He towered over you but right now, you were above him because you held all the power now. You got in his face as you spoke words that would set him off.

“Whatchu’ gonna do now without your little distraction running around, daddy?” You softly but sinisterly and seductively said as you chuckled and purposely bumped into his shoulder as you walked away.

—

Bakugou has slowly been losing his mind. He was on the last day of the second week and it’s been killing him. When he sat down he would spazz a little and his fingers would be having a little seizure. His eye would twitch at night as he kept his back to you to restrain himself. The soft quiet moans you would release in your sleep every now and then would send Bakugou into the bathroom in the middle of the night to relieve himself. Just the sight of you was daring Bakugou to pounce.

You weren’t making it any easier for him either. First you send his son AKA his distraction from his hot wife away, then you tease him constantly, you also allow yourself to touch him but refuse to let him cop a feel on you, and now, you walk around after work in his t-shirt and a pair of cute panties. Your plump ass on display and the sight of your plush thighs drove him wild.

You were sipping tea in the kitchen when your frantic husband came in. You took notice of him and greeted him with a smile before it quickly dropped at the sight of him. He looked awful. Bags under his eyes, a twitching eye, a crooked line for a smile, disheveled hair, and his posture was horrendous. He took a seat next to you saying nothing as he just tapped his foot against the floor.

“Umm...baby? Are you okay-“

“NO! I’m not! I’m not okay, not at all!” He snapped as he looked at you with wide eyes. You stared back at him with the same eyes as you slowly took another sip before continuing.

“What’s the problem, love?” You asked as if you didn’t know.

“What’s the problem?” He began with a whisper. “What’s the problem?! Oh, like you don’t know you TEASE!” Bakugou stood from his seat as he clapped his hands to dramatically to explain.

“HOR-NY!” He said as he brought his hands together for each sound. “I am insanely horny, you shitty woman! I can’t get myself off, I don’t have my son around to keep me busy, work is just annoying now, and my fine ass wife won’t let me touch her!”

You laughed a little as he explained and Katsuki had his jaw dropped at your rude behavior.

“You’re laughing? Oh you think this is funny? Oh okay,” he said and walked away.

“WHEN THIS BULLSHIT IS OVER, YOU’RE SUCKING MY DICK Y/N!” He slammed the door to your shared bedroom but he screamed loud enough for you to hear all the way from the kitchen. “ON SOFT!”

—

The end of the third week. It was almost too much for Katsuki. Katsuo would be back in another week but it would be pointless because the punishment would be over by then. I mean yeah, he’d get to have his son back again (yayy familyyy) but when Katsuo would be back, Katsuki would be completely indulging himself in Y/N. How the fuck were they supposed to keep quiet?

Whatever though. Katsuki had no time to think of the future. He was living in the now, and so he had to come up with a plan to get Y/N to break. In the beginning of the 4th week, Katsuki spent time and time again tweaking his plans and coming up with new tactics until he realized....his damn wife was just as stubborn and hard headed as he was. Nothing was gonna break her. And so we’ve been led to this.

“BABBYYYYYYYYYY”

“...”

“PRINCESSSSSSSS”

“...”

“Y/N BAKUGOU!”

Bakugou resorted to being a puppy that basically had separation anxiety. He would yell and shout and whine at every chance he had. He would do whatever if it meant getting you to break. He missed you. The last time you made physical contact with him was during that kiss and man did it send Katsuki into a frenzy.

Considering Katsuki’s quirk contained nitroglycerin, a chemical commonly found in viagra, it was safe to say it was very easy for you to rile him up. And as he thought about that, it hit him like a train. If he can’t go to you, then he’ll make you come to him. He’ll set you up and he knows exactly how to do it.

Bakugou left the bedroom and ran down the stairs to find you in the living room. You were cozied up with yourself under a blanket that covered your booty shorts that you wore. You were entranced by the story of a book as you allowed the TV to play at a low volume for background noise and Bakugou’s heart swelled at such a domesticated moment. “Hi baby.”

You looked up to your husband and rolled your eyes with a smile as you looked at him. You wondered what trick he had up his sleeve this time around. “Hey. You need something?” You asked.

“Mm mm,” he shook his head with a soft smile, how cute. “Just was wondering if you wanted to watch a movie with me. Get some snacks, sit in bed, and just enjoy some time together.”

You smile grew wider at the thought of a little date night in your shared bedroom and you were quick to agree to his offer. “I’ll get the snacks,”

“No don’t worry about. I’ll get it. I already have everything set up. Picked a movie and everything. All you have to do is just be there with me.” You awed at your husband’s kind gestures as you went up to peck his cheek.

“Thanks Suki!” You happily said as you walked away. Bakugou watched your form disappear into the master bedroom before he quickly ran through all the cabinets and fridge. He frantically looked for viagra but when he couldn’t find any he whipped out his phone. He called a number that he knew was going to be able to help him.

“Listen Dunce Face. Don’t ask any questions, just do as I say if you want to fucking live. I know you have female viagra on you and if you don’t, get your ass to the store right now and pick some up for me. Bring it to me ASAP!” He quickly said and hung up before giving Kaminari any time to reply. Bakugou slowly prepared snacks to eat and in 5 minutes a knock was heard on the door. He ran to it and opened the wooden piece to find a huffing electric blonde.

“I....I....I got it!” Kaminari tiredly breathed out as he held a bag over his head to show the items he brought. Bakugou snatched it out of his hand before giving a quick ‘thanks!’ To show his appreciation and slammed the door.

Katsuki took the pills out of its containers and crushed 2 into a powder. He mixed it in with your bottle of water and finally brought the snacks and drinks up to you. He walked in to find you waiting on the bed for him and you smiled at the sight of him. He placed the bags of junk on the bed as he quickly joined you until he realized something was off.

“Umm...Y/N?” You smiled as you knew what he was going to ask and considering you guys were gonna have a little movie date, you gave in.

“Fine.” You happily said as you gave in and Bakugou was quick to pull you into his arms and become the big spoon. He finally got to hold you after so many weeks but this was not his main goal. No he wanted much more. This was only a stepping stone to his victory.

The movie began and Bakugou had you cuddled in his arms. You were enjoying the warmth of your husband as your eyes were drawn to the screen and you couldn’t help but smile at these sweet intimate moments like this. Yeah. You’ve missed him over the past few weeks but a punishment is a punishment. So you decided to savor this time with him before going back to cutting off physical contact once more.

Time had passed and Bakugou watched as you picked at the snacks and swallow down sips of the contaminated water. He smirked every time you downed a gulp and now the best part was coming up. See, Bakugou chose everything so that he knew exactly how everything would turn out. With that being said, he chose a movie that he knew would help the viagra in your system to get you going.

The erotic scene played and Bakugou watched as you rubbed your thighs together for friction. You bit your lip from time to time to hold back a needy groan and you began feeling heat all over you. And it wasn’t coming from Katsuki. Seeing you in this state, Bakugou slowly went to place a hand on your bare thigh. You didn’t push him away and Bakugou grinned at the fact that you were breaking. He soothed and rubbed at your thigh as he would squeeze it every now and then as well. The whole time you were asking yourself why the explicit scene was so detailed and so long.

Out of nowhere, you felt Bakugou’s hand travel up your leg and to your core but just for a second. The teasing touch had you silently gasp and you craved for more. You turned to Bakugou to see he was leaning against the headboard and he would release a grunt every so often which didn’t help relieve your growing heat. He didn’t seem bothered by anything or affected at all as he watched the movie continue.

Enough was enough, you picked up the remote and turned off the TV. Bakugou turned to look at you with a raised brow but openly smirked once he saw you straddle his lap. You shamelessly began to grind yourself against his core as you both released sighs and moans at the friction. His hands went straight to your hips as he spoke.

“What’s wrong princess? What happened to my punishment?” He teasingly asked.

“Shut up,” was all that you said before you quickly dove in for a hungry kiss that Bakugou happily returned. It was all teeth and tongue as you both pressed against each other, grinding against one another’s clothed centers. Moans were released into the kiss as you began to undress yourself. You both pulled away for a second to remove your tops but quickly went back in for the kiss. You removed your shorts as Bakugou remained in his sweats. You were left in nothing but panties before Katsuki decided to rip those off.

“Katsuki...nobody said anything about you being able to touch me again,” you clarified with sharp eyes. Bakugou’s eyes went wide. He thought this was the end of the punishment. He thought you gave in.

“What do you-“

Before he could finish, you placed your hand on his shoulder and activated your quirk.

“Sleep.”

And just like that, Bakugou was out like a light. While he was unconscious, you took the opportunity to tie his wrists to the headboard using one of his dress ties. You removed his sweats and briefs as you allowed his member to stand tall. You stared at the red, angry tip that was drenched in pre-cum. You smirked as you sat yourself on his waist as your hand went to stroke his member the slightest bit. He moaned in his sleep and you giggled as you spoke again.

“Rebel.”

Bakugou slowly woke up, but once he fully came to, he was completely submerged in pleasure. His eyes were blessed with the view of your naked body, with a beautiful face that adorned a smirk. And he understood why you held the malicious smile. He groaned as he felt your pace at his dick speed up. You leaned down to his ear as Katsuki held heavy breaths with a flushed and red face.

“No touching, remember Suki?” You whispered as you then licked the shell of his ear, sending shivers down his spine.

“F-fuck! Fuck, Y/N please. Please just do something...Ahh~” You trailed your thumb up to his tip as you focused on it. The feeling sent Bakugou into heaven.

“Awww, you thought you could tell me what to do? If you didn’t notice, tonight, I’m in charge.” You said with a grin and devious eyes. Bakugou groaned even more as he waited for you to do..anything! “I’ll tell you what though, Suki. You have been pretty decent for the past few weeks so I’ll give you a little something. And maybe if you’re a good boy for me, I’ll let you have the main course.”

Bakugou watched as you stopped your hand movements and scooted back. You were face to face with his dick as you jerked him off some more. You held his member in your hand as you made eye contact with him. You licked the base of his cock all the way to the tip causing Bakugou to sigh and moan. You kissed the tip before taking it into your mouth and swirling your tongue around.

“Oh s-shit! Baby! Fuck-“

You went down on him one time and moaned around his cock, allowing the vibrations to have full affect on your trembling husband. You pulled off him with a pop as you smiled up at him.

“Oh I’m sorry. You wanted me to suck your dick on soft, right?...Mm, well it’s not my fault you can’t control your hard on.” You teased to which Bakugou growled at you. “Again with the snarling? That’s not what good boys do Suki. Good boys do what they’re told so they get to cum inside a pretty pussy~”

Bakugou perked up at the temptation. Cumming inside you. Breeding you. Pumping you full until you give him another brat. The thought of you walking around beautifully swollen with his kid drove him mad and desperate.

“Let me cum inside you Princess.” He asked with a soft but stern tone.

“Ah ah, you don’t get to tell me what to do. You’re not the one giving orders tonight, Katsuki. So listen up. I’ll go down on you for about 5 minutes. If you don’t come in those 5 minutes, I’ll let you cum inside. However, if you do, I’ll be leaving you here with a cock ring for the next few hours while I go and pleasure myself somewhere else. Understand?” You watched as he attempted to fight against his restraints.

“No.” He refused to give in. He turned his head down, avoiding your gaze and you sighed in return.

“Fine, I guess I’ll just have to take care of myself,” you said and slid off him. You were about to walk away before Bakugou called out for you.

“No wait!” You turned to him and gave a little curl with your lip. “Tch....please.” He said while blushing and staring off.

“Please what suki?” You said, acting dumb. Bakugou really didn’t wanna beg but he’s so close to getting what he’s been craving all month. Screw his damn pride. He was gonna get laid and he was gonna get it tonight!

“Please! ....Fuck me, touch me, suck my dick, let me cum inside you, do something to me! Please Y/N,” he begged. His member still stood erect and you smiled as you walked towards him.

“That’s my good boy,” you said as you caressed his jaw and gave him a quick and passionate kiss before moving down to suck him off. You kissed his tip multiple times before taking him in. He gasped and sighed at the contact and feeling of your warm cavern but he’ll be damned if he came undone in less than 5 minutes. He needed to cum inside your sweet little cunt and he was gonna do whatever it took to do so.

You bobbed your head at a steady pace causing Bakugou to plead for more. You swallowed his pre-cum, which left him gasping. Your hand went to fondle his balls as he fought against his restraints. He wanted to use his hands to take control but he couldn’t, not with them being tied up.

“P-please baby. Faster! Please!” He begged. And who were you to deny your good boy. You sped up your movements and moaned with his cock seated in your throat. “Ohh god! Yess!”

His legs shook as he was close to cumming. He looked at the time and saw he only had 1 minute left. Just 1 minute. Hold it in and he gets to cum inside you. However, he didn’t know you had a little trick up your sleeve.

When you walked away before, you grabbed a mini vibrator. Seeing he only had 1 minute left, you turned it on and placed it at the base of his cock while you sucked him off and moaned some more.

“F-fuck baby! S’too much! Stop- stop! ...ohh fuck I’m-I’m gonna cum!” Bakugou screamed with his head thrown back. He jerked his hips up as he attempted to fuck your mouth but you squeezed and scratched at his bare thighs to get him to stop. And finally, with your permission..

“You can cum now, good boy,”

He filled your mouth as he screamed in pleasure. His legs shook in pure ecstasy as he filled your mouth with his sweet-salty release. You pulled off him with a stuffed mouth and watched as his chest puffed up and fell down. He sighed before he looked at you with rosy cheeks. You smirked at him, opening your mouth to show him his work before swallowing it all. The erotic scene caused him to bite his lips and throw his head back as he puffed some more.

He can’t believe he was at his limit and all because of a blowjob. His dick grew soft but rose once more as vibrations came in contact with his shaft again. He flinched at the sudden feeling and looked at the cause of it and saw you holding the vibrator against him. “Baby? W-what? W-hy?”

“Aww Suki. Don’t you remember? It’s time to give you what you’ve wanted all month,” you smirked at him. His eyes went wide. How could he forget? He wanted to cum inside you so badly, but he didn’t know if he had any left. He didn’t know if he would be able to take it after his extreme climax.

“W-wait! Wait Y/N. I-..I need a break for a second. I can’t-“

“Excuse me?” You cut him off. “So you’re the only one that gets pleasure out of all this? I don’t think so.”

“No baby, that’s not what I meant. I just- it’s just...s’too much!” He cried out as he watched you hover over his erection. You lined his dick up with your entrance and smirked some more.

“You can handle it. I know you can. You’ll be my good boy and pleasure me too, right?” You sweetly said. Bakugou didn’t know what it was. He was never the submissive one but you calling him a ‘good boy’ did something to him. It made him want to completely submit to you and do whatever you pleased. You slammed down completely on his cock as you both cried out in pleasure.

“Fuck!” Bakugou screamed. You began a fast pace bouncing up and down on him. Your hands found placement on his bare chest as he threw his head back and made an abundant amount of noise. “Oh baby! Baby- slow down! F-fuck too much!”

“Mm..c’mon Suki..I thought you wanted this. Fuck- I thought you wanted..to be my good boy,” you teased while moaning. You held a devious grin as you rode him and he couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. Poor baby was so overstimulated.

Bakugou released sobs of pleasure but he enjoyed it all nonetheless. “S-shit! Oh my godd Katsuki! S-So big!”

“Ahh! Fuck! Y-Y/N..baby please! Let me touch you! Please!” Bakugou seethed out. He had his feet planted on the bed as he attempted to thrust up into you. You, growing a soft spot for the man below you, gave in.

“Heh...be a good boy and please me Suki.” You released his wrists from their ties as you never stopped your motions and his hands were quick to find home around your waist.

Bakugou was quick to take control and bounce you up and down on his shaft, controlling the pace. Now it was your turn to scream and cry in pleasure as Bakugou slammed you down on his cock while ramming up into you at the same time. He was going to be a good boy and please you.

“F-fucking shit! You like that? Huh?” He gave your ass a quick and hard smack before continuing. “You like the way my dick feels inside your sweet pussy?”

The pleasure was too much for you. You could barely form words as he catered to your body. His thrusts were beginning to bring you to your end as you felt the familiar tight feeling grow stronger in your stomach. You pussy clenched around his shaft as he released a gruff moan at the squeeze.

“Shit..you gonna cum baby? Gonna cum on my dick? ...fuck yess~ let me fill you up princess,” he said as his thrust grew sloppy. He was close to his end as well and you nodded in approval to his desire.

“Ka-Katsuki! I’m gonna cum..fuck baby I’m cumming!” Bakugou sped up the slightest bit to help you reach your climax until you finally came. You both released cried of euphoria as you both met your orgasms and met each other for a hungry kiss. At the same time, Bakugou stopped his thrusts as he shot his load in you, and a mix of your releases seeped out of your cunt. Your kiss was sloppy as your tongues fought for dominance. Bakugou let his hands travel to your ass where they helped you grind on his dick a little more and smacked it once again.

You both had moaned into the kiss until oxygen became necessary. You separated from each other with small pecks before finally stopping. Bakugou remained inside you as you settled into his chest. He had his arms wrap around you as you both spent time catching your breaths. Once you both finally settled, you bathed in the comforting feeling of the after sex glow and cuddled in a comforting silence. Bakugou had kissed the crown of your head before he spoke up and broke the quiet.

“So much for a punishment,” he teased. You looked at him with slanted eyes as a way of telling your husband to shut up but he only chuckled at you. He lifted your chin and brought your lips to meet his once more for a loving kiss before separating to tell you sweet words.

“I love you, princess.” He said with his husky voice.

“I love you too, Suki.” You sent your hand to intertwine with his and he gladly accepted. He was right though. So much for a punishment. Oh well, you’ll get him next time he fucks up.

A/N: EW THE ENDING WAS SO BAD!!!! WTFFFFF! Whatever. I hope you enjoyed it bear Cubs! I’m sorry I’ve been in my lil slump but I feel myself getting better and I’ll be back soon!💗🧸 And now...to start on the ninth chapter of my series. Yayyyyy😓

A/N: I think my favorite part is when Katsuki yells “Suck my dick!...on soft!” Cuz I be walking around and saying that to mfs who test me. If you disrespect me, SUCK MY DICK..ON SOFT! 🤣 am I a female? YES! But you will suck my soft non-existent dick if you decide to act like a prick for no apparent reason. Thank you!😂

[seijorhi]

Reminiscent

i’m (semi) back, y’all, and i come bearing a fic!! fhdjhfjdk it’s for oikawa i won’t apologise

Oikawa Tooru x female reader

TW non-con, drunk/drugged reader, forced infidelity, emotional manipulation, angst, past trauma, coercion, mild(ish?) smut, nsfw

“F-fuck, cutie! Just like – hah– just like that!”

You weren’t the clubbing type.

Not usually, at least – but exams were over and one of your friends was fresh off a bad breakup, one night letting loose wouldn’t hurt.

Walking is… difficult, your steps are sloppy – there’s an arm wrapped around your waist, your own slung over a stranger’s shoulders. Why are you outside? Where are your friends – they… they promised they wouldn’t leave you. 

“She good, dude?”

A soft, pretty laugh rumbles at your side, “Yeah, she’s gonna be just fine.”

And you remember the bar, the overpriced cocktails and the saccharine sweetness of strawberry liquor on your tongue. The dizzying lights and the bass that thumped so loudly you felt it reverberate in your chest. You knew the rules; they’d been drilled into you since you were sixteen years old.

Stick together, don’t accept drinks from strangers, and watch the one in your hand like a hawk - it doesn’t leave your sight.

A tongue between the valley of your breasts, long fingers curling up inside of you. 

“You like that, huh pretty girl? You gonna cum for me?”

They wouldn’t have just abandoned you, right? Maybe you told them to go. Maybe they thought you wanted it; to go home with the handsome stranger.

You never had the guts to ask them, never spoke about that night again. Not to anyone.

Pain. Something thrusting inside of you, splitting you open while he moans and pants atop you. It hurts so much and you want it to stop. 

Please stop. Please. Please. Please.

You’re begging, at least you think you are, but the words come out jumbled and wrong, and he just laughs, hiking up your thigh so he can fuck you deeper.

Why won’t he stop?

When you wake up, bruised and sore and all alone in your bed, it feels like a bad dream. You know it’s not – not with cum still seeping from between your thighs, the scent of the stranger’s cologne clinging to your sheets.

And you scrub your skin raw in the shower, but it isn’t enough to rid you of his touch.

—

It’s nothing like what they show on tv.

There’s no sympathetic detective to pat you on your shoulder while you break down, swearing that they’ll find the man who did this and you’ll get your justice.

You don’t go to the cops because you’ll know what they’ll say. You were drunk, drugged, and even if you could remember what he looked like (his eyes were brown, you think, and there’s a flash of a smirk in your head but the moment you try to focus on it it slips away like smoke) any evidence of rape washed down the drain the moment you stepped into the steaming shower.

At least… that’s what you tell yourself. It’s easier than admitting you’re terrified of judgemental eyes. 

Or worse; pitying ones.

So you pretend that nothing happened. You show up to your classes and throw yourself into studying, make the time to get coffee with your friends, you even pick up a part time job – it’s good to keep busy. 

The nightmares are just that; nightmares.

And things are fine, until they’re not.

—

“Baby, you’re here!!”

There’s barely time to drop your bags before she’s pulling you into a warm hug. “Hi mom,” you reply, squeezing her back.

When she draws back to take you in, one hand cupping your cheek, she frowns, “You look tired sweetheart. Have you been sleeping enough?”

“Yeah, just tired from exams and stuff.”

She looks unconvinced, but mercifully doesn’t push the issue. Of course, you don’t tell her that you missed your last two exams because you’d walked past some guy wearing that same cologne and just choked – that instead of finishing off your semester strong, you’d spent the day alternating between throwing up and crying in bed.

She doesn’t need to know that, because of that, you’ll probably fail both classes and have to retake them again next semester on top of an already full course load. It’s fine; you’ll figure it out.

For now, you work on matching her enthusiasm at having you home, grabbing your bags to bring them inside and into your old room.

“Oh, wait–”

Abruptly, you pause, gazing in confusion from the doorway of your bedroom. There’s a duffle bag lying open and empty atop your bed, a tangled jump rope, some weights, an empty bottle, a sweat towel – even what looks like a spare workout tee scattered haphazardly across the sheets.

“… I didn’t take you for a gym junkie, mom.”

She stops behind you, sighing. “It’s not mine it’s– Tooru said he was going to tidy it up, sorry sweetheart.” She sweeps past you to start tidying it up, but not before you catch sight of her wide eyed, deer in headlights expression.

And you can’t help the lone eyebrow that rises, falling back against the doorframe, arms folding across your chest. “Tooru, huh?” you grin, “And who might Tooru be?”

The flustered, almost guilty look she sends you makes you want to laugh – this is easy, comfortable, this you can do – but you restrain yourself. Just. “Tooru is… he’s– well, he’s the man I’m… seeing.”

She admits it like she’s confessing to a crime, eyes all wide and nervous; anticipating your reaction. And you suppose it’s not unwarranted. As far as you’re aware, she’s been alone ever since the day your dad walked out on you both – raising you was always the priority, or maybe the excuse. But you’re not fourteen anymore, you don’t need another father figure or every spare bit of her time and attention, and she doesn’t need your approval for this.

So you smile at her, “Is he nice?”

She lights up, her features – almost a mirror image of your own – softening as she beams, “He’s amazing, honey. I honestly don’t know how this whole thing really happened, or why he’s even interested in someone like me but… I lucked out with him.”

And so it goes, you prying little bits of information about the mysterious Tooru as the afternoon passes.

She tells you that they met a few months back, at the bakery she likes in town – and how she kept running into him; at the grocery store, and then at the park, and then on her way back from yoga that one night.

She tells you that he’s a terrible flirt, all smooth and charming with warm, pretty brown eyes, but he’s a good man beneath it all and she’s never met anyone like him. 

It strikes you, as you watch your mom animatedly talk about him, that you’ve never seen her look like this before. 

Happy. 

She can’t stop smiling, and when you look at her, really look, she’s almost a different person – younger somehow, a bit more care-free. It suits her, and you wonder with a slight pang in your heart how you never noticed how lonely she was before.

And she’s adamant that they’re taking things slowly, that he still has an apartment of his own in town – which to be honest, you really aren’t gonna judge her on either way – but it is kind of funny simply because whether your mom realises it or not, it’s clearly a lie.

The subtle reclaiming of your bedroom aside, there’s traces of Tooru scattered all around the house; the extra toothbrush and aftershave you’d spotted in the bathroom, the men’s  shoes and the jacket by the door, red wine in the cupboard when your mom’s only ever indulged in white.

You haven’t been into her bedroom, but at this point you’d hazard a guess that there’s at least one drawer full of Tooru’s clothes, probably half her closet cleared out for him as well.

“He’s coming for dinner, but I just wanted today to be just us,” she says, reaching across the couch to squeeze your hand. And you’re grateful for it, because you’re happy for her – you are – but you’re not so sure how you would’ve handled meeting the stranger holding your mother’s heart first thing. At least, not after the last few days.

Not when you still feel all… brittle. 

—

Tooru arrives a little after seven, and to say that he’s not entirely what you were expecting is kind of an understatement. 

She’d gushed about how tall and handsome he is – though personally, you think pretty’s the more accurate word, what with his soft, delicate features, perfect cupid’s bow lips and all. What she’d neglected to tell you was that the man in question, stepping through the front door with a faint smile on his face, has to be at least ten years younger than her, mid-thirties at most.

Suddenly, your mom’s initial reluctance to bring him up starts to make sense.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” he murmurs, stopping by your mom to drop a fleeting kiss to her cheek before warm brown eyes turn to you. 

Your heart stutters.

“Sweetheart,” your mom begins, slipping an arm around his waist and relaxing into his side, “this is Tooru– Oikawa,” she corrects herself.

He smiles at you, friendly and charming, “It’s great to finally meet you, your mom’s told me so much – all good things, of course!”

You force yourself to smile in return, “Yeah, you too.” 

There’s nothing overtly wrong with Oikawa, age difference aside – your mom’s clearly head over heels in love with the guy and on a surface level he seems nice enough, but you find yourself glad for the fact that he doesn’t make a move to step closer, try to shake your hand or god forbid hug you or something like that.

He’s nothing but a gentleman as your mom steps back into the kitchen to finish off dinner, setting the table without being prompted, pouring a glass of wine for your mom and one for himself before he offers a glass to you. 

“Oh, no I’m alright, thanks.”

You don’t drink so much anymore. He shrugs, like it’s no big deal but your mom pouts at you from the kitchen. “C’mon, sweetie. We’re celebrating tonight! One drink won’t hurt.”

“We’re celebrating?” you ask.

She throws you a wink, gaze softening as she turns to glance at Oikawa, already diligently pouring you a glass, “Of course we are. It’s not every day my girl comes home, and it’s nice having you both here with me.”

Oikawa’s fingers brush against yours for a fleeting second as he passes you the glass, and you have to fight to keep yourself from ripping your hand away. It’s nothing, you just– you’re not good with strangers touching you, and as nice as he is and as much as your mom might be infatuated with him, he is still a stranger.

“Absolutely,” he agrees, a playful twinkle in his eye as he clinks his wine glass against yours. “So you’re at uni, right? What are you studying?”

Uni’s the last thing you want to be thinking about right now, but whether or not Oikawa genuinely cares, he’s obviously trying to make an effort to get to know you. For your mother’s sake, grinning innocuously in the kitchen as she adds the last little touches to dinner, you suck it up, plaster a smile across your face and ignore the twinge of discomfort in your gut.

You can handle one night of small talk.

—

You wake the following morning to the sound of voices carrying down the hall.  

Not your mother’s – both are too deep, and your mom left a few hours ago for work. Figuring that one of them at least is likely Oikawa, you pull on a thin, satin robe over your pajamas, tying the sash in a loose knot before you slip from the room.

Those suspicions are proven correct; you round the corner to find Oikawa sitting up at the kitchen counter, a warm cup of coffee in his hand. There’s another man, a touch shorter, but imposing with dark, spiky hair and olive green eyes standing on the other side, hands braced on the marble top, glaring at Oikawa.

They both look up at the sound of your hesitant approach, the stranger abruptly straightening up, while Oikawa merely grins.

“Ah, you’re up,” he observes cheerfully, taking a sip of his coffee.

Your eyes flicker between him and the stranger – clearly comfortable enough in your home and with Oikawa, despite the faint, lingering irritation still visible on his face – and as your cheeks warm, you find yourself wishing you’d put actual clothes on before coming out to investigate.

“I- I heard voices…” you trail off, awkwardly folding your arms over your chest. “Is mom–”

“At work,” he supplies. “Do you want some breakfast? Coffee, maybe?”

You risk another glance at the other man, watching you now with an unreadable expression, dark eyebrows furrowed. You swallow uncomfortably, shifting slightly as you shake your head. “No, I-I’m okay.”

And in an instant, a flash, something like recognition passes through those olive eyes. 

 Oikawa chuckles smoothly, finally tearing his eyes away from you to address his friend, “Iwa, stop being so rude. You’re scaring the poor thing.”

The stranger, Iwa, just scoffs. “You’re a real piece of shit, y’know?”

If he’s bothered by the scathing insult, Oikawa doesn’t show it, merely shrugging before turning his attention back to you with a smirk. “Ignore him, he’s just pissy this morning.”

You’d have to be a complete idiot not to sense the uncomfortable tension between the two of them – and now you. This is your home, but it feels like you’re intruding, like you’ve stumbled into a conversation you have no business hearing, but even if you wanted to leave your feet are rooted to the ground. 

“Besides,” Oikawa continues, “he was just leaving anyway, weren’t you, Iwa?” It’s almost a purr, the way he speaks, but even the silken words can’t entirely mask the razor sharpness that lies beneath. 

Goosebumps prickle along your arms.

Staring at you, Iwa opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but seemingly thinks better of it, snapping it shut with an audible click. He huffs, shaking his head. “Yeah, fine, whatever.”

He spares you another glance on his way out, standing frozen by the hall. For a split second he slows, his scowl softening just a fraction–

“Iwa.”

It sounds like a warning, but he only rolls his eyes and huffs again. You think he’s going to walk out without another word to either of you, but he pauses once more, lingering by the entryway.

“You look a lot like your mother, anyone ever tell you that?”

He’s out the door before you can even think to reply, letting it slam shut in his wake. And you flinch at the harsh sound, something uneasy settling into the pit of your stomach–

“Hey,” Oikawa’s there by your side, his fingers entwining with yours. You hadn’t even heard him move. “Come sit, don’t worry about Iwa. He’ll get over it.”

His voice is soothing, you don’t pay attention to the words themselves, the implications there. You forget for a moment that you’re still in your pj’s, that you really don’t know him that well either, and mindlessly follow when he leads you to the couch and sits you down, taking the seat next to you.

And while your head’s still spinning, an uncomfortable feeling gnawing in the pit of your gut, Oikawa seems entirely unbothered by the turn of events, sighing contentedly as he stretches his long legs out, one arm sliding along the back of the couch behind you.

“Do your… friends usually just drop by like that?”

You don’t know where the words come from, or why that’s the first question on your mind, but when you glance over at him, Oikawa’s just watching you, an odd little half smirk playing on his lips. “Sometimes.”

His answer does little to soothe your unease. It’s really not a big deal, you know it’s not. Officially or not, this is his home too – you’re the one out of place. And if he wants to have people over when your mom’s not around, that’s fine, he can do whatever the hell he wants, but… 

You came home for peace. To hide away for a few days and pretend that everything’s just fine and you’re not one breakdown away from shattering entirely. You wanted your mom and the comfort of your old bedroom and safety and it’s fine – great, even – that she’s found somebody who makes her happy, but this– him and the weirdness with his friend and everything is just too much, and–

You don’t realise that your leg’s bouncing until Oikawa’s hand comes to rest on your bare thigh. It’s enough to make your stomach flip, an icy chill trickling down your spine as his thumb slowly strokes across the soft, plush skin. “Relax, cutie,” he coos, chuckling softly when you visibly flinch and squeeze your eyes shut.

“P-please don’t call me that,” you choke out, fighting against the wave of nausea rising up your throat. And it’s just like last time, his cologne, notes of vanilla and cedar and spice, swirling thick and heady around you. That phantom touch, the warmth of hands gripping too tight, unwanted kisses hot and eager against your skin. 

“No?” he asks, cruel amusement dripping from his tone. “Why not? I think it suits you, cutie.”

You want him to stop, to push him away, slap him – do anything really, but you’re frozen in place, shaking as the memories you’ve fought so hard to shove down come bubbling back to the surface. You can’t think straight, not with his hand sliding between your thighs, the warmth of his body pressing too closely against yours.

“Iwa was right, you know,” Oikawa murmurs, smoldering brown eyes drinking you in as you childishly shake your head, willing him away. His other hand catches your cheek, drawing your face back to him as tears well in your eyes, stubbornly clinging to your lashes. “She does look so much like you, the same eyes even.” 

He whispers it like a secret, nuzzling his nose against yours like a lover would as he sighs sweetly, “It’s the only reason I could stand it.”

And then he’s kissing you, the tenderness of his lips belied by iron fingers digging into your jaw when you whimper and try to wrench yourself free. 

It’s not like the nightmares that startle you awake in the middle of the night, gasping for air; hazy, broken recollections that fade the moment you try to reach for them. No, every touch, every moment of his assault passes in stark clarity.

The feel of Oikawa’s mouth as it trails greedily down your neck, his hand sliding under the cotton of your sleep shorts, even his pleased little hum when he realises you’re not wearing panties. “Such a good girl for me. Fuck, I’ve missed this.”

This time there’s no drugs in your system keeping you pliant and helpless, but that doesn’t make a difference. Not when his words echo in your head, playing again and again until every awful, sickening piece falls into place.

Long, nimble fingers stroke at your folds, and you can’t help the shivery gasp that leaves you when the tip of his middle finger sweeps over your clit. 

“Please– please don’t do this,” you sniffle.

Oikawa presses another fleeting kiss to your shoulder, “Shh, none of that. Let me help you, baby.”

“N-no, I don’t, I don’t– Stop!”

Knocking away the hands that try to push him back, he hooks his fingers over the hem of your shorts and slides them down your legs, your pitifully weak struggles only making things easier for him. It’s only when Oikawa reaches for his own zipper that panic truly strikes home.

You can’t just lie here and let this happen again. You won’t.

And like a switch flipped, you start to trash like a wild thing beneath him, the scream you’ve kept buried inside of you for months ripping itself free from your throat–

Only for the fingers that had been toying with your pussy to be shoved down your throat, cutting you off with a choked gurgle. As you gag, fruitlessly try to tug yourself free, Oikawa leans in nice and close – except this time there’s no gentleness to his expression, nothing but viciousness as he grins and bares his teeth. 

“You wanna yell, pretty girl? Want the neighbours to come running, let them see me fuck you?” He grinds his hips against you, his breath shivery as he pants at the friction of his half hard cock against your side. Nausea twists at your gut, acrid and bitter – you want to be sick, to cry and beg with him to stop but with his fingers still stuffed in your mouth, his thumb digging into the soft underside of your jaw all you can manage is an unintelligible whine. He hums, kissing away the single hot tear that spills down your cheek, “You think if you cry loudly enough, mommy’ll come home and save you?”

And it’s like time stands still as he laughs, cruel eyes glinting when he presses down on your tongue, warm saliva pooling around his digits. “Such a little whore, trying to seduce her poor, innocent boyfriend the very moment her back’s turned. Tell me, cutie,” he coos, “who do you think she’d believe?”

Your breath hitches, another sob catching in your throat – even if you wanted to answer, you can’t and he knows it. “She’s in love with me, you know. It’s almost a little pathetic how easy it was to manipulate her into bed – so lonely… desperate for love, for somebody – anybody – to pay attention to her, take care of her,” he sneers, distaste curling at his lips. “Wouldn’t it just break her fragile little heart to know she’s fallen for the man who raped her baby girl?”

Another garbled cry slips past his fingers and you can only watch in frozen horror as his other hand drifts back to his zipper. “You want to protect her, don’t you?”

His grip relents just enough for you to jerk a shaky nod.

“Pretty girl, so good for me.” Another kiss pressed to your cheek as the quiet hiss of his zipper fills the air around you. “It’ll be our little secret, hmm? She doesn’t need to know just yet, let her be happy a little while longer…”

Sliding down his briefs just far enough for his cock to spring free, he strokes it for a moment with slow, leisurely movements, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he watches your eyes widen. 

And when he pulls you forward, guides your mouth towards it, pre-cum beading at the tip, withdrawing his fingers so you can quickly gasp for air, you just… let him.

The fight’s gone, as quickly as it had come. 

You let his fingers curl through your hair, use it as an anchor when your lips part to force his cock between them. And he moans, low and shivery as your tongue slides along the underside of his shaft and you try not to gag around the sudden intrusion. 

You think that there’s no room left inside of you for shame, but as his other hand creeps back between your legs, teasing at your cunt, you burn with it, clinging to the pyre of your own humiliation and disgust.

And still, you kneel on the couch, letting him fuck your mouth, letting those long, pretty fingers curl up inside of you – moaning around his cock when they stroke that perfect little spot.

“I wanted to – shit – take this slow,” he tells you as his hips jerk upwards, shuddering in breathless delight when his cock hits the back of your throat and it convulses around him. “I wanted to make you want me.”

Wet, messy, gags sound with every unwitting thrust – you’ve no choice but to swallow him down, let him fuck your throat like you’re nothing more than a toy for his pleasure. There’s saliva coating your chin, dripping down the length of his dick, pooling around his balls. You can barely breathe, a task made even harder when Oikawa decides to add his thumb into the mix, teasing your clit while he fucks you apart on his fingers.

It feels so fucking good, and you’ve never hated yourself more.

Your throat burns, hot tears stinging in the corners of your eyes, and yet he’s intent on driving you to the brink of your sanity with every calculated flick of his wrist. Something tightens in your belly, a spring coiled too tight, ready to snap, and you can’t help it when your hips chase his fingers, the needy, shameful little whimpers that leave your lips (still wrapped around his thick, twitching cock) as you search for the pleasure to temper the discomfort.

“You don’t have a clue what you do to me, do you? I could barely sleep last night–” 

You choke back a moan, your pussy clenching around his digits, sucking them deeper as white spots pepper your vision and you shudder out a moan.

“So pretty when you cum for me,” he pants, but you don’t care – can’t, not when you’re riding his fingers, tongue lolling out as he gives you a moment’s reprieve to bask in the rippling afterglow of your orgasm before everything comes crashing back down around you. 

Oikawa lets you fall back against the cushions, breathless, trembling and dazed. You’re not stupid enough to believe that’s the end of it, not when his cock’s still hard, throbbing against his toned stomach when he gives it a slow, cursory pump.

“Lie back, cutie,” he whispers, keeping his eyes fixed on you as he pushes himself up off the couch to shed the rest of his clothes.

And as you shuffle obediently downwards, heart hammering in your chest, you find you can’t tear your eyes away from him either.

Tall and handsome, she’d said, but the words truly don’t do him justice. A body corded with lean, powerful muscle, golden, sun-kissed skin, a light smattering of dark hair trailing from his navel down past the well defined V of his hips… 

“See something you like?” he teases, smirking when you squeak and childishly jerk your face away, cheeks burning. “It’s okay to look, you know. I don’t mind the attention.”

It feels too soft, too intimate for what this is. 

This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. He’s not supposed to be attractive, or to make you enjoy your own assault, and you– you’re supposed to fight it, fight him instead of just lying there and taking it… 

But when he climbs back onto the couch, easing your still trembling thighs apart to settle himself between them, his touch is nothing short of reverent, dark eyes wide and adoring as you squirm uneasily beneath him. 

With one hand braced on the cushion beside you, his cock resting just above your aching sex, he leans forward, easing your top up past your tits. “Perfect,” he murmurs.

And it’s enough to make a fresh bout of humiliated tears spring to your eyes. Your hands curl into useless fists at your side as he settles back onto his knees and takes his cock in hand, hissing in pleasure when he glides the flushed, leaking head along your slick folds.

“Fuck, cutie. I don’t think I’m gonna last,” he laughs, biting down on his bottom lip as he watches hot, fat tears slip down your cheeks. With an agonisingly slow pace, Oikawa lines himself up with your cunt and presses in – even with how wet you are, one orgasm already wrung from you, the stretch burns and you can’t stop the choked gasp that leaves you.

His eyes flutter shut, head thrown back back as inch by inch his cock sinks into your pussy until finally he bottoms out with a satisfied groan. “Perfect for me, so fucking good,” he pants, and you barely have time to drag in a breath before his hips are drawing back, another desperate, strangled mewl escaping you.

Bruising fingers dig into your waist, Oikawa cursing as your plush little cunt flutters maddeningly around him– before he eagerly slams his cock forward, stuffing you full once more.

And as you sob and whimper between every wet, obscene squelch of his dick fucking into your soaked pussy, that all too familiar, shameful heat begins to pool in your core.

“Gonna cum for me again, cutie?”

[sweetestreyes]

Farsante (Angel Reyes)

Request: hey girl! i was wondering if you could do something angsty with coco or angel, like maybe reader and (whoever you chose) have a long history but things never worked out in their favor so now they have to deal with the baggage that comes from that? i really hope that makes sense

a/n: THIS IS PURE and long ANGST. That’s all i have to say... i got carried away so you can take a look at my very dramatic side

Inspired by the song El Farsante by Ozuna

Check out my masterlist. Requests for mayans mc are open ↴

MASTERLIST | Join my group chat here (taglist)

It all started when you came back to Santo Padre to spend the holidays with your parents. After two long years of college, you finally managed to schedule a visit to your hometown. Your friends convinced you to have girl’s night at a small bar downtown, and the least you expected was to end up having drinks with a group of strangers, which you later found out they were the Mayans, the infamous MC your dad told you to avoid at all costs since you were a teenager. But here you were, sitting at a table surrounded by half-drunk men who weren’t as dangerous as everyone told you they were.

You spent the last two months going out with the club, especially Angel who made it very clear from the start that he liked you, but you were hesitant to even talk to them since your father constantly told you how the Mayans were a treat to this town, breaking the peace of Santo Padre. Truth be told, you liked him too and you weren’t willing to stay away from him since you diddidn’t know how long it will take for you to be back at town.

So there you were, sneaking out with him every night for the rest of the summer on long motorcycle rides or just sitting at an empty park to be close to each other... Angel was your first everything and it was perfect, you loved each other and you understood what your mom said: “It’s about connection, not time”.

However all good things have and end and you left town to go back to college at the end of your vacations. Both of you were devastated, but made a promise to stay in touch and you did so, texting each other constantly and having long conversations at night just hearing about each other’s problems and preoccupations.

And when you had to leave college because your mom illness was way too expensive, Angel was by your side every single day when he could, holding you close and whispering in your ear that your mom was a strong person. But it all went down when your dad saw you two kissing outside the hospital: the night it all went down to pieces.

Angel ended up with a big bruise on his cheek and a black eye while your father angrily yelled at him.

“You star away of my daughter or I’ll call the fucking cops and fill a restraining order! I’m not letting you corrupt her with your nasty club shit!” Dad said, every word more poisoned than the previous one.

Angel face went red. Covering his cheek, his free hand was clenched and his knuckles turned white, containing himself to not say something disrespectful to the man in front of him.

“I love her, and i’m not staying away because she loves me too”. Angel’s voice was pure anger, but somehow, he managed to stay calm. And you knew he only did it because you were a crying mess overwhelmed with the situation.

“I’ve warned you”. That’s all you old man said before gripping your wrist tightly and dragging you across the parking lot.

He gave the talk about “how bad would be for someone like you to be with an outlaw like him”, but you didn’t listen any of it, already planning a way to escape with the man you loved.

Contrary of what you imagined, you could barely go out, not even when mom was back at home. You were living in a prision, no cellphone, no computer and no way to get out. You were suffocated, not handling the situation anymore. So one night you escaped, just like that.

Driving your dad’s car and parking a few blocks from Angel’s house, you knocked on the door and the surprised look on his face made you smile, tears falling down your face as he hugged you tightly and let you in.

“I want to be with you, mi amor” He kissed your forehead, hands gripping your hips tightly. “But no matter how much I love you, i’m bad for you and you know that. Maybe your dad is right”.

“Bullshit” The exclamation left your mouth with anger. “You don’t get to make that fucking choice Angel”. You both were now standing up, facing each other.

“But I can make that choice for myself, and I want you to leave”. His voice was serious and you couldn’t believe the words he was saying. You scolded him, pushing his chest slightly to make him fall on the sofa.

And just like that you ended up wrapped between his body and the sheets on what you didn’t imagine it would be you last night together.

You left the next morning without a previous warning. It was unexpected but necessary as you had to take care of some paperwork to be able to resumen you college year without any problem, and you couldn’t miss the opportunity of that scolarship since it was the monetary help you needed in that moment. You felt guilty of not having the opportunity to say goodbye to Angel, so you texted him the news and promised to call him at night... but he never answered. Not that day, not on weeks and neither the next few years.

You lost count of the nights you spent crying over him and his sudden lack of response. You couldn’t wrap your head around the idea of Angel ignoring you, tossing you like a piece of trash. It couldn’t be, you didn’t want to believe it.

But you didn’t know his side of the story. It took all of him to not respond those texts and calls, he spent the nights looking at the pictures you sent him and how happy you looked. And that kinda reminded him of his brother... a brilliant person who ended up not having the future he deserved because a thoughtless bad decision. For Angel, you were in the same situation and he felt that you being with him compromised your future, that maybe he was that thoughtless bad decision that would make you lose the good path. Angel didn’t want that for you, he wanted you to be happy even if that meant that he had to stay away from you.

Somehow you remade your life without him on it. You missed him everything, there wasn’t a day when that his name and face didn’t crossed your mind. Years felt longer than ever and there still was a small hope in your chest that once you were back in Santo Padre, things would be good again, just like that summer.

But that didn’t happen.

When you stopped by Reyes’ butcher shop, EZ and Felipe were there, but was Angel and you catched a glimpse of a woman behind him. Your face went blank when she appeared in front of you, revealing her pregnancy with a smile.

“(Y/N)?” Angel asked with a shocked expression.

“I was passing by and...” You couldn’t even talk. The woman gave you a confused look and introduced herself as Adelita, Angel’s partner. “Sorry, I just wanted to say hi”. And with that, you left, leaving everyone behind as the tears streamed down your face.

“Is she okay?” Adelita asked. Felipe looked at his older son with a shocked expression on his face.

“Let’s go for a walk, come on Ezekiel”.

Angel stood there, his heart pounding in his chest with the speed of light, his mind still processing the look on your face and the fact that you were back in town, he always thought you would hate him by now, but no, you came looking for him and that broke his heart.

He always thought that being with someone else would be enough to erase your memory.

And when he saw you again, he understood that if you still loved him like before, nothing seemed to be interesting for him anymore.

He lost you and he couldn’t do anything about it.

[elisaphoenix13]

Debut And (Minor) Fall

Commission for @wombatking! I'm amazed at myself for getting this out so fast! I hope it's to your liking!

"Nonono! Don't hork it down you animal!" Cassie laughs and takes a bite of her own cinnamon-sugar pretzel.

"What? I'm hungry!" Peter says with his mouth full.

"You're always hungry." Cassie shakes her head and tears off another piece of her pretzel as Peter fumbles for his phone when it pings.

He taps away at it after unlocking it to read the message, and then he points it away before directing Cassie a different direction.

"Mom asked us to pick up some things for Lucy." Peter explains and Cassie nods.

"Diapers and formula?" She guesses.

"Yup."

"Do you even know what to get?"

"Nope. He said you would know."

Cassie shakes her head in exasperation. Of course she knew what exactly Stephen got for Lucy because more often than not, she was with him whenever he picked up the baby supplies. She didn't mind though. It gave her a little more alone time with Peter before they were both pulled back into the chaos of the tower. Something she always missed because she learned during those five quiet years that she shouldn't take it for granted. There was a lot she didn't take for granted anymore.

When she sees Peter eyeing her pretzel she holds it away. "You had yours! Three in fact! Let me have my one!"

"Aww come on babe! They're so good!" Peter practically begs.

"No!"

Peter grins and reaches for the last bit of pretzel. "Come on it's just a--"

He suddenly freezes and Cassie yelps in surprise when Peter pushes her away and then her eyes widen when something blasts into sidewalk where she had been standing just moments ago. As the sidewalk smolders, she and Peter look into the direction the fireball came from and find what looked to be another psychotic villain with a grudge.

Fucking fantastic.

"Not cool." Peter says before tapping his nanotech bracelet to suit up and webs toward the villain after telling Cassie to find somewhere safe to hide.

For a moment she considered it, but when Peter was almost immediately blasted away when he got close enough to the attacker, she decided that it was probably time to reveal her powers. Tony had made her her own suit just in case, and Cassie hadn't even asked for one but she was glad for it. It was more subtle than the bracelets that Stephen and the boys had for their suits, and it still amazed her how Tony managed to fit a whole suit in a ring. It was like the others though and all it needed was a tap before nanites covered her body and formed a suit similar to her father's.

The moment she was completely covered, she grew to a large size and stopped Peter from hitting asphalt by catching him with one of her hands. Cassie hears him mumble to himself in confusion and then he looks up and the eyes of his suit widen.

"Holy shit!" Peter shouts.

He clearly had a default reaction to seeing people grow for the first time.

"You okay?" She asks.

"I...I will be when I have time to process...this," Peter motions to her. "That will have to wait. Do you mind?"

Peter points back toward the approaching villain and Cassie nods before tossing her boyfriend back towards him. As Peter webs what looks like a custom flamethrower away from the villain, Cassie shrinks back down and runs up to assist. Having his weapon ripped from his hands was enough of a distraction for Cassie to reach the villain and deliver a blow under his jaw, and he stumbles back in surprise.

The training Cassie went through was finally worth it as she continued to help Peter try and restrain the villain who had pulled out another weapon that was definitely alien. She wasn't even surprised to see one anymore. Like Hydra, alien weapons were always hidden in the cracks and came out at the most inopportune times and there was likely no chance of finding them all. Especially when people dismantled the power sources for use in other weapons. Peter had experience with that.

Cassie gets blasted back by the weapon and lands with a groan on the ground. This was still better than being tossed around by a celestial. While Quill never actually used his full strength while helping her train, he only pulled his punches just enough for it to hurt but not actually cause any damage to Cassie. Basically how he trained with Scott was how he trained with her. Quill pulled his punches but it still left some nasty bruises.

Cassie sits up and glares at the villain as she lifts one of her wrists. "I can do that too." She then sends a bio electric blast at him hitting both him and his weapon.

Peter webs him to the ground as he swings down to Cassie, and he helps her to her feet. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Papa has done worse if I'm gonna be honest."

"Ugh. I know what you mean. I think your dad is a masochist."

"I try not to think about it. Thanks."

The two walk over to the unconscious villain and look down at him.

"What do we do about him?" She asks.

"Ping the cops." Peter shrugs. "They'll come take care of him."

"That's it?" Cassie asks in surprise. "Seems a little…"

She trails off when she hears a soft beep over the noise around them and she looks closer at the villain. Peter looks as well and when Cassie looks at the weapon, her eyes widen when she sees a light on the weapon start to flash rapidly in tune with fast beeping.

"Run!" She yells.

But it was too late. The weapon exploded and the force of it sent both Peter and Cassie flying back in different directions. Cassie was sent into an alley and she groans when she lands into a pile of boxes and old wood, and she was pretty sure she felt something...snap? When she tosses the garbage off of her and tries to get to her feet, she cries out in pain when her ankle throbs and sends her to the ground.

"I believe you have fractured your ankle Miss. I suggest you lie still. I've already paged the doctor." Victor says and Cassie blinks in surprise.

"Victor? You're in my suit?"

"Yes. It was decided that I would help you whenever you felt the need to use your suit." The AI explains.

"Cassie!" Peter runs over just as a gateway opens and Stephen steps through.

"Victor says I broke my ankle and I'm inclined to believe him." She tells them and Peter carefully picks her up.

"Leave your suit on until we get you to medbay." Stephen says and motions for Peter to follow.

Stephen changes the destination of the gateway to the medbay and walks back through with Peter following close behind with Cassie. The sorcerer directs Peter to an empty bed and he carefully lays Cassie on it who hisses a little when her ankle is jostled. When Stephen asks her to, she retracts the suit and the nanites crawl back into their core in her ring and he carefully pushes up her pant leg to assess the damage. It was already swollen and purple and Stephen barely had to touch it for more pain to flare up.

"Ow!"

"I think Victor is right but we'll still take some x-rays." Stephen says.

While the doctor moves around getting things ready to x-ray Cassie's ankle, Bruce arrives with Scott and Quill and Cassie smiles sheepishly at her parents.

"What happened?" Scott asks as he rushes to her bedside.

"She kicked ass." Peter says. His suit had also been put away during her exam and now he was just standing by as support.

"A weapon self destructed and kind of rudely threw me into an alley." Cassie explains. "Broke my ankle."

Scott turns to Quill immediately. "Can you heal her?"

"Uhhh...I'd rather not. Bones are a little more finicky than flesh." Quill says.

"I'm okay." Cassie says as she rolls her eyes.

"Are you sure? No head injuries?" Scott asks when he returns his attention back to her.

"Tony made the suit. I'm sure I would have had a few if he didn't."

"That's not funny."

===========

Stephen's AI was right. Cassie had broken her ankle and Bruce had to put a plaster cast on her which she was required to wear for at least six weeks. He would monitor it closely during that time and much to Cassie's annoyance, Scott rarely let her move around. Which made sense, but he and Quill were disasters with housework and she was afraid to watch them attempt laundry. The few times they did it themselves, only twice it went without a hitch and the other times were too painful to recall.

"Ugh!" Cassie groans when Scott keeps her from getting up from the couch. "Are you going to help me pee?!"

Her father immediately holds his hands up. "Oh. No. That's all you peanut."

"Thank you." She sighs and gets up with her crutches and makes her way to the bathroom.

To be fair, going to the bathroom was a little bit of a struggle but at least it gave her some feeling of independence. Her dads barely let her do anything except go to the bathroom, and there was only one time she fell and needed help. She never told them that of course because she had been up with Peter and it happened to be in his bathroom. When she asked for his help, he was so calm about it and to her surprise he didn't even blush or sputter when he saw her with her pants halfway down. He just helped her up and looked away while he kept her up so she could pull them back up.

In fact, Peter had been a huge help ever since she got her cast. He got her whatever she wanted that he was capable of making (which wasn't much; he was almost as bad as Quill), he sometimes helped her change or get ready for the shower which was also something she didn't tell her dad's because they would blow a gasket, and he kept her company whenever Diana didn't. Diana was helpful too. She helped with bathroom stuff too if Cassie needed it and her parents knew about the little girl's help.

After she finishes in the bathroom and washes her hands, she opens the bathroom door and proceeds to leave, only for one of her crutches to get caught on the door jamb. She yelps and falls forward and fortunately gets caught by Quill who she had fallen against. He helps her straighten and uses a small amount of his powers to pick up the crutch she had dropped and returns it to her.

"You alright?"

"Yeah. Thanks. I'm gonna go upstairs." Cassie sighs.

"Let me help you to the elevator." Before Cassie can argue he points over in the direction of the elevator and she finds Emir sleeping near it. "He's kind of a big obstacle." Quill laughs.

"Oh, right." Cassie nods and accepts Quill's help, which consisted of him picking her up and carrying her to the elevator and he puts her back down as the doors open. "Thanks Papa."

Quill winks at her. "I'll distract your dad."

Cassie makes a face when she catches his insinuation and Quill cackles as the doors close. She was pretty sure he was taking advantage of her inability to run away by torturing her like this. She was half tempted to return the favor by insinuating that she and Peter were doing things but she was pretty sure that would backfire and her dads would try to kill Peter. She liked her boyfriend thank you very much.

When the doors opened again, she was immediately greeted by Peter who was the next to scoop her up. "Movie in bed?"

"I want to watch Moana and I want a shoulder massage. These crutches are killing me." Cassie pouts and Peter laughs as he carries her upstairs.

"Your wish is my command."

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 162

162

Keith didn’t know what it was, but he just had the feeling something wasn’t right. It’d formed in the pit of his stomach until he was completely distracted by it. Staying to help the Garrett’s clean up the garage, Hunk drove him back home a little before five, teasing him over his absentmindness and the few small mistakes he’d made. Hunk’s teasing should have been annoying, still, Keith kind of felt better for it. They’d grown so comfortable around each other that they’d progressed into that side of friendship. Keith not hesitating to tease Hunk back just as a bad over the way he’d turned into a stammering mess when Shay had dropped by with muffins.

Pulling up at the house, Keith let out a long sigh of relief. He wanted a hot shower and to scrub his hands within an inch of their lives. Plucking leaving and gravel out the cold puddle where the pump was blocked had left his hands kind of gross. Both silently mutually agreeing Hunk would come in, they climbed from the car, jogging up to the front door as the rain started spitting again. Opening the door, Hunk let out a gasp as he stepped back with his hands raised. Rieva and Matt were both standing in the entrance area, both in their wolf forms and both looked ready to attack with their razor sharp teeth bared at them.

Rieva was the first to relax, shifting to her human form without caring she was very very naked

“Rieva!”

Hunk let out a strangled kind of groan as he covered his face

“Argh! You... you’re naked why are you naked?! Clothes. You need clothes!”

Keith nodded in agreement, his gaze on his feet. Stupid werewolves and their “pro-nudity”. Rieva huffing at the pair of them

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know who it was”

Yes, well, okay. She could shift back now, or at least find some modesty

“You do know! Put some clothes on!”

“Stop yelling. I’ve finally got Lance calmed back down and I don’t want the pair of you riling him up”

Keith’s brain blanked the fact Rieva was naked as he raised his head, then quickly used his hand to shield his eyes. Sniffing the air, Keith smelt something sweet lingering. That bad feeling in his stomach, dropped as if he’d missed the bottom step in a set of stairs. Moving on instinct, Keith strode towards the living room, jogging once he reached the doorway. Lance was curled up with Kosmo by his side, his boyfriend’s scent screaming at him

“Let him rest”

Rieva was between him and Lance in an instance. Lance’s scent should have set off the pair of werewolves. They should have called the moment Lance got upset

“Rieva”

“Keith, let him rest. I only just got him calmed back down”

Yeah. Good for her. Lance needed him and they all knew it. Resisting the urge to shove Rieva, because he wasn’t that stupid, Keith grit his teeth

“He’s upset! I can smell it. He smells like he’s in heat. He’s upset and not just a little bit. Fuck, I knew something was up”

“He’s resting. He needs his rest”

“Then let me take him up to our room”

“I think here is the best place for him”

“Ummm. Guys... Maybe we can talk about this?”

Matt sat near Hunk who’d taken half a step away from him. The poor guy had limited wolf experience with Matt and Rieva in their wolf forms

“I am sorry, Hunk. It would be better if you went home for the day. I need to have a conversation with Keith”

That was obvious. Rieva was on edge. Her posture stiff. Something big had happened, but that didn’t mean Hunk should be sent away

“Hunk’s Lance’s best friend... You don’t have to send him away when he’s worried for his bud”

“I’m right here... Rieva, it’s okay. My sisters came today. To ask for Mami’s rings back...”

Both? Both of them... here... in their house. What right they did they have? What bullshit had they stirred up? Did Luis come too? More importantly why hadn’t Lance reached out?

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“There were things that needed to be said”

Rieva sighed. Keith really, really wished she’d put clothes on. He’d be hearing it from Matt over looking at Rieva naked

“They brought the police with them. Lance was too kind to them both. I don’t care for them and I have warned them not to return here”

“Rieva, can you and Matt please go get dressed already. Keith, come sit down. Hunk, you can stay too if you don’t mind monopolising Keith for a little bit”

Hunk came over to them, stumbling as he tried not to look at Rieva

“Dude, I might go for now, but we’ll talk right?”

Lance nodded, holding his arms out for a hug which Hunk was happy to provide. The two besties hugging each other tightly

“Thanks, man. I’m okay. Rieva’s just being a bit overly protective and territorial. Want to come over for lunch tomorrow?”

“That’ll be great”

“Perfect. Bring Shay too, if she can come. I love you, bro”

“I love you, too. Let me know if you need me to bring anything”

“Just yourselves. Better message the gremlin too”

“I’ll talk to Pidge... but... uh... we’ll be wearing clothes tomorrow, won’t we?”

“Yeah, clothes will be worn. Rieva’s been back and forth between forms. She’s lucky it’s too horrible outside to kick them out”

“You wouldn’t anyway”

Lance snorted

“No. I wouldn’t. I’ll see you tomorrow”

“Sure thing”

Being Hunk, Keith was also hugged. Hunk giving him a look that said he expected an explanation yet was glad to be escaping way too much nudity and Rieva’s wrath. Keith wished he could take Lance and run from her too. He wasn’t equiped to deal with Rieva when she was acting this protective, also, it was his job to protect Lance and his job to be there for him. Rieva had done enough.

With Hunk taking his leave, Keith manhandled Kosmo off of Lance’s legs to sit beside his boyfriend. Lance as cute as ever as he sank into him

“You smell”

Maybe not that cute. No. He was cute, and also definitely experiencing heat like effects from the run in

“That happens when you spend the day playing pool boy and unblocking the damn pump. Do you want me to shower?”

“Not yet...”

Kissing the top of Lance’s hair, Lance nosed into Keith’s chest

“Okay. Are you okay? Did they... What the fuck happened?”

“Can you guys give us a little space? I know you’re going to hear us, but I need to talk to Keith and my ego is setting us all off”

Rieva gave Keith a nod

“I’ll leave him your hands. We’ll be in our room, come, Matthew”

Matt obediently trotted off, Rieva walking out behind him. Kosmo didn’t know what to do with himself. Patting the space beside him, Kosmo jumped up to lick at Keith’s face

“Stop it, you. Lie down already”

“Let him be. He missed you”

“Tell him that. God, those paws of his...”

Kosmo was best boy, until his paws went places paws really shouldn’t

“Kosmo, down!”

Jumping off the sofa, Kosmo huffed at Lance, then laid out on the floor in front of the sofa. Keith already knew Lance wore the pants in the relationship, but damn if Kosmo wasn’t as whipped as he was

“You’ve got him trained”

“Nah. He’s just happy to have you home. We both are”

Kissing Lance’s hair again, Keith nodded as he did

“I’m late again”

“I’m okay now. I’ve had time to... calm back down”

“Babe, I can smell you. You haven’t calmed down, plus, your sisters came”

“They did. Luis called the cops over Mami’s ring. He couldn’t come near me, shot himself in the foot taking out a restraining order”

“So he sent Veronica and Rachel to do his dirty work”

Lance sighed heavily, far too heavily for Keith’s heart to bare

“No. I mean, yes, but no. I had a panic attack after they left, but I also got to say a lot of things I wanted to Vee”

Veronica being called “Vee” seemed intimate. That his sisters came and that Luis was still harping on about Mami’s ring was ridiculous

“They shouldn’t be dragging you in”

“I was mad, but I know the police. Pidge didn’t always get all the permissions she needed, but they’re solid. I was mad and then I kept thinking about it. I don’t think Vee... I don’t think she wanted to antagonise me. I think she... I think she actually wanted to hear about Mami’s last days but didn’t want to go against Luis. I think maybe if I were to talk to her, that maybe she wouldn’t ignore me”

That went against everything Keith thought he knew about Lance’s sibling dynamic

“That’s...”

“Surprising. I know. Rachel still hates me as much as ever. She was the one who came, Rieva kept her eye on her. She also asked them to leave”

“You didn’t?”

Lance had the habit of having to talk... but to talk to his siblings who’d treated him so cruelly over the years, that must have really fucking sucked

“I did but Vee needed to hear what I had to say. I think she... when they left... I fell apart again. About never hearing from them ever again. I know I’m not making sense. I told them to forget me and to be happy. Them knowing everything would only hurt them more. I keep... I keep trying to cut them off. To move on. I can’t forget what they did and I can’t forget the times when we were happy. I heard so many stories in Cuba that I felt kind of reconnected with them again, but they don’t want me”

Taking Lance by the chin, Keith tilted his boyfriend’s head up

“You’ve done more than enough. You’ve given more than you have to give. Anyone would understand if you threw them out without a second thought”

Keith would have. He’d never hit a girl who wasn’t a supernatural being, yet he sure as heck would have lost his temper at the pair of them for using Lance. They were lucky to have left before he came home

“I couldn’t do that. They’re Mami’s children. I don’t know what the next step is. I told Vee I’d send her some photos from Cuba. With everything happening I never got Coran to look at my phone. I just... I wish it didn’t have to hurt this badly. I’m meant to be relaxing ahead of our trip to see your dad”

Their three day trip. Lance asked if he’d wanted to go for longer, Keith didn’t want to stray too far from home too long in case there were complications with Lance’s pregnancy. He, Shiro and Lance were going. Krolia... he wasn’t completely sure on. That afternoon had been so long and so much said. Curtis’s demon issue had been pushed back, Coran having to recalculate the new best day which fell late in March, though there calculations and all kind of stuff that went over Keith’s head. All of them wanted to push the trip back for his sake, yet Curtis refused, Lance upset for his friend. Now they’d be leaving on the 5th of March... as a solid maybe with a more than likely yes unless they changed plans again which could happen seeing their group chat was filled with plans. Theoretically if Lance was to go into labour during their trip there was a chance the twins would survive, none of them wanted to take that chance though. February really needed not to be ending so damn fast.

“My dad would rather you be safe and everything be alright”

Keith hoped so at least. They seemed to be the right words as Lance gave him a soft smile

“I hope they’re okay. I want to bake as long as possible before popping”

“I know. But we need to be as careful as possible. I really wish you’d let me take you to Coran”

“And I really wish you’d fuck me on the sofa”

Lance blinked at him. Keith blinking back. Okay... Here he thought Lance was settling, but that would be a big fat nope

“You’re having symptoms still”

Lance blushed hard

“I didn’t... fuck. I’m sorry, that just slipped out. Babe, false contractions happen. It’s not a medical emergency you need to rush me to Coran in the middle of the night over”

“I’m allowed to worry”

How was he supposed to know the difference between something like that and something serious? He wasn’t the one who was pregnant. He wasn’t the one who’s body could turn traitor. All he could do was worry

“I know you worry. You’re right. I am. It was bad before. My ego set off Matt’s and Rieva’s, serving to upset mine further. The fact I told my siblings to forget I exist and to never come back... I can’t believe I said it. I felt alone again. It’s so stupid. I have more of a family in you and our friends than I have with them. Rachel seemed ready to puke over my pregnancy. Vee barely seemed to care. She even asked me if you hurt me, like she cared”

“I don’t know what to say about that. Is your heat bad?”

He didn’t know how to “biological sibling”. They were weird. Shiro was weird enough as I was. Lowering his gaze, Lance mumbled

“It’s not great. I’m sure it was affecting Matt and Rieva. Honestly my head’s such a damn mess. I’m horny as hell, and content now you’re home. It’s embarrassing”

“You can’t control it. Plus, I’m sure Matt and Rieva wouldn’t mind taking a half an hour drive”

“I’m not throwing them out my house. That’s mean. All they did was try to comfort me. Rachel didn’t know where to look when Rieva turned back and she was all naked”

Keith definitely felt he was owed some form of compensation for having to face a naked Rieva

“I didn’t know where to look. I didn’t even want to look. If they’re affected too, maybe they should go work it out elsewhere... somewhere they won’t have to listen to us?”

“Babe... It’ll pass”

“We both know sometimes it doesn’t and you’re left on edge like this for hours. Being intimate isn’t about you being in pain over something that you don’t have control of”

Lance snuggled into him, hand dipping between Keith’s thighs suggestively

“I love that you love you. But I can’t kick them out”

“Then we’ll just have to be quiet”

“Nope! We’re going! Save your horny!”

Dragging Rieva along, Matt yelled at them as he stuck his head in the room. Lance couldn’t have been more embarrassed if he tried. Rieva finally had clothes on, explaining

“Sorry. Lance’s scent set our egos off, he’s right. Lance, enjoy your heat, Keith knows I will break him if he hurts you. We’ll come back after dinner with Pidge. I think that will be best for all egos”

Lance’s tone wobbled as he replied

“I’m sorry, guys. Thank you for being here today. Egos can be a total pain in the arse”

“We’d never hold this against a pack member. Matthew, let’s go already”

Left alone, Lance sighed at him. Clearly a disappointed sigh

“I can’t believe we kicked them out so we could have sex”

At least they’d left. When he and Lance couldn’t leave they had to pull out their noise cancelling headphones or risk hearing way too much. Keith wasn’t so much concerned with having sex as he was worried about Lance being stuck in a state where his body wasn’t listening. Lance would never push sex on him, and Keith was only human. A human with a high sex drive for that glorious arse, even at the worst of times

“Actually I kind of wanted to kick them out sooner so I could talk to privately about your sisters. I smelt you from the doorway. All afternoon I felt like something was wrong. Hunk teased me about it”

Instead of laughing or snorting at him, Lance raised an eyebrow

“Babe, would you rather talk about that or go have a shower before you have your wicked way with me?”

“I’d rather make sure you’re doing okay mentally before pushing anything physical”

“I’m better now I’ve calmed down and thought about it, but I’m also wet as fuck and trying to cope with that too”

Keith groaned at Lance. He was trying to give his boyfriend the out if he felt he needed it

“That’s not fair”

Lance fell silent for several exceptionally long moments that made Keith feel like maybe he’d done something wrong or Lance was worrying about him not being in the mood and felt the decision forced

“Babe?”

Lance sucked in a shaky breath

“You’re... you’re my family... right?”

“Oh, babe. Of course I am. You’re my family. You, our boys, my family”

“I love you so much, Keith. So much. I’m sorry I didn’t call, I wasn’t in the right frame of mind when they left. Plus you saw how protective Matt and Rieva were. If something happened to you, even by accident...”

“Nothings going to happen. I’m going to take a shower and then I’m going to come back and make you feel amazing”

“I’d like that. And cuddles after?”

“As many as you can stand”

[dragonofelder]

Dabi & the Endeavor Insulting club - Plot Idea

So for this AU, if Touya Todoroki exists at all, he’s either dead or off doing non-villainous stuff elsewhere

Where Dabi’s hatred of Endeavor comes from is irrelevant, but a potential idea is that, like Inasa, younger Dabi had a very negative encounter. Maybe he tried to tell Endeavor how much he inspired him to become a hero with their similar quirks, or asked for help controlling his dangerous flames. Endeavor is an ass, Dabi is sad, lifelong hatred made. Moving on

During a fight between UA & LoV (again irrelevant which), Dabi faces off against Shouto. Between throwing fireballs Dabi goes on about how much of a bastard Endeavor is, and how he’s a terrible hero. He’s of course expecting Shouto to get mad and defend his dear dad.

He’s not expecting the deadpan reply of “You should try living with him.”

Dabi is Thrown Off his groove, and is kinda shocked when Shouto; 

A) Does absolutely nothing to defend Endeavor

B) Adds his own points about why he’s a dumpster fire

C) Seems quite happy to stop fighting and just spend the next five minutes bitching about Endeavor 

The LoV retreats, but Dabi is actually intrigued, and wonders if he can recruit Shouto for the League (and because Shouto is kinda great at insulting the “Eternal Number Pwo Hero” and he wants more) 

So he stalks him, because of course he does, and winds up following him one weekend as he leaves UA

He’s quite surprised when Shouto winds up at a cafe with the two other  Todoroki siblings. He gets closer to try to listen in, and gets close enough to hear Fuyumi recount a story of one of her preschool students drawing Endeavor as a large flaming poo.

Dabi has accidental wandered into their monthly “Bitching About & Insulting Dad” session.

He’s so amazed that all of Endeavor’s children hate him that he breaks cover (by laughing)

Instead of calling the cops or anything, Shouto simply introduces Dabi, and tells his siblings all the shit he said about Endeavor

Thus instantly earning him a place in their hearts

He joins into the session, and gets invited back next month.

The siblings like having an outsider that they can share the funniest humiliating stories with, and Dabi just likes hearing about Endeavor failing

As time goes on, he actually starts using the stuff the siblings tell him in fights against Endeavor

Dodging an attack; “Bit impatient hero, should have just used the microwave!” - Referencing a story Fuyumi told him, about when Endeavor decided to use his quirk to heat a ready meal, with incredibly messy results.

Launching Endeavor through a door; “Don’t let it hit catch your arm!” - An incident retold by Natsuo, where Endeavor stopped halfway through an automatic sliding door to scold him. It got caught on his arm, much to his annoyance

When Endeavor’s costume is partially destroyed: “If you’re going to light up your pubes, now’s the time”; The only time Shouto enjoyed being at his father’s agency, when due to a marketing idea Endeavor got a bare-chested summer costume. He had the smart idea to light his chest hair on fire like he does with his head, and it looked so terrible he scrapped the whole costume

Shouto actually provides a covertly taken photo with that story, because watching his father’s blood pressure rise rapidly is now his favorite sport, considering the fact he is protected behind UA’s walls.

Dabi shares the photo with the League, saying he got it from an information broker, and shows it to Endeavor during that fight. As he makes his escape with the rest of the League, he “accidentally” drops it in front of gossip magazine reporter, one that is known for mocking hero costume designs.

Also the information that Endeavor physical abused both his wife and his children infuriates Dabi, and he is now actively gunning for Endeavor, going out of his way and ruining plans, making him a bit of a risk for the League. 

Shiggy warns him to lay off the revenge, and that if he becomes too much of a risk he will be... removed.

So Dabi is stuck between following the League’s goals, and messing with Endeavor. 

The choice is obvious

But he needs a way to get out with being killed. And preferably using it to, again, mess with Endeavor.

Coincidentally, there is Hawks, who Dabi is completely certain is a government mole.

Dabi makes it clear that he knows about it to Hawks, but that he wants to make a deal with the Hero Commission - in return for help in bringing down the league, he wants a reduced sentence...

... and a proper investigation into Endeavor actions as a hero, and his family life

It’s a shame that Hawk is basically Endeavor’s number one fan, and refuses to believe a bad word about him.

If only there were a way... or maybe some people... that would be able to give definitive proof of Endeavor’s asshole-ness to the winged hero

The “Bitching About & Insulting Endeavor” club gets a bystander

Who is now completely onboard with all plans

Including a last minute idea by Dabi...

See, the League gets taken down in a massive raid, and because they’ve been such a problem, the media get brought in quickly to show their capture.

The shocking betrayal by one of the league’s lieutenants, and his most likely instrumental role in bringing down Shigaraki is caught live on camera

As is his own quick and painless surrender to Hawks, who coincidentally happens to walk Dabi right past the fuming Number One.

Its quite shocking when Endeavor begins to attack on the poor, quirk-contained and restrained man, breaking a couple bones before he himself is brought down.

Such a shame the media crews, and no one else for that matter, were close enough to hear Dabi’s whisper; “That beating on Shiggy was almost as harsh as you beating your wife”, mere moments before Endeavor snapped.

All in all, a job well done. Some sympathy for the already heroic looking Dabi, some indisputable evidence of Endeavor’s overly violent manner caught live

Also apparently the Todoroki kids are trying to convince their de-hospitalized mom to adopt him, which is... nice? 

So this idea was originally named “The Todoroki kids adopt Dabi,” but I’m pretty happy with how it ended up. Thoughts?

Also Hotwings if you want I guess.

[lovemesomerafael]

Best That You Can Do                         Chapter 1:  The Big Mistake

Mike Dodds x Original Female Character Because dammit Mike’s not dead.  

Look, Mike loves his dad, OK?  He does. They get along great, even when Mike’s dad is being extra.  Mike knows he’s lucky to be Chief Dodds’s son, and he is perfectly aware that he’s benefitted from that.  He doubts he’d be a Sergeant this young if it wasn’t for that connection.  Hell, he’s not above using that connection himself when it suits him.  So he good-naturedly puts up with his dad’s embarrassing bragging about him, and he gives his dad’s opinions serious consideration.  Because Mike knows his dad absolutely and completely has his back, and only wants good things for him.  It’s just… what Dad thinks is good and what Mike thinks is good aren’t always the same thing.  

William knows that. It’s why he’s always tried to listen when Mike says no.  But this time, he knows he’s right.  Kaitlyn is perfect for Mike.  Women are one area in which Mike’s never listened to him – first he was too embarrassed and awkward around girls to do anything when William would point out a girl who had a crush on him, then when he was older, he had his own (incomprehensible) ideas about what he wanted.  But this time, William’s not taking no for an answer.  He can’t.  Because he knows he’s right.  

Kaitlyn Myers is a member of Chief Dodds’ staff, an up-and-comer if he ever saw one.  She’s the daughter of two cops, sister of three, and granddaughter of two – one on each side.  Kaitlyn has the NYPD in her blood, and she’s fiercely protective of anyone who wears a badge.  So much so, in fact, that she and Dodds have gone toe-to-toe more than once when she thought he was doing something that put cops at unwarranted risk.  But only behind closed doors.  Anywhere else, she is unwavering in her support and, whatever he decides, she stops at nothing to make it happen.  Her loyalty is unshakable.  

All of which makes her indispensable to William Dodds, and it’s been like that for three years now.   She’s also a looker – William thinks it’s still OK to call women that – with the lean, athletic build he knows Mike likes.  

Mike’s been hearing about Kaitlyn for a long time, but they’d never met until a couple of weeks ago. And when they did, William saw instantly what he really should’ve seen before: they were perfect for each other. So he’s going to do what he should’ve done a long time ago.  He’s going to set them up.

 ***************

Two Weeks Earlier:

Mike’s tired and he’s cranky.  He’s really looking forward to getting to Alonso’s, the steak house he and his dad have been going to every other Thursday for years.  It’s dimly lit and full of deep green upholstery and dark wood, they have every possible kind of whiskey, and the steaks are huge and perfect.  It’s basically a man’s paradise, Mike thinks, and he loves these dinners.  He really needs this.  It’s been a shit week.

He swings in the door and greets Eleanor, Chief Dodds’ secretary, who beams at him as if he’s her own son.  He points toward the office door in mute question.

“He’s in a meeting, but he said to go on in,” she says.  Eleanor is about a million years old, but Mike loves her because a.) she takes great care of his dad, and b.) when it comes to a choice – and it has – she’s on Mike’s side one hundred percent of the time.  He thinks she might have a crush on him, and he knows he has one on her.

Mike opens the door, knocking as he does, and is confronted by the best ass he’s seen in a year.  At least.  There’s a brunette in a pencil skirt standing on Mike’s side of his dad’s desk, leaning over to show the Chief something and giving Mike a spectacular view. She stands as he enters, and he sees that she’s pretty, with big, brown eyes and lush, pink lips that immediately spark his imagination.  

“Mike!  Come in, Son,” William says gaily, standing up with a smile like he’s pleasantly surprised.  Which is weird, considering they planned to meet here, now, and Eleanor said he was waiting for him.  

“You’ve met Kaitlyn, haven’t you?”  William asks.

Mike reflexively holds out a hand.  When she smiles at him, he can feel it.  Her hair is in some kind of updo, but it’s late in the day and some of it is escaping in a way that feeds the dirty turn his imagination’s already taken.  This is the Kaitlyn his dad’s been going on and on about?  Somehow he’d imagined her… differently.  

“No, we haven’t met,” Kaitlyn says, smiling and looking into his eyes, her voice lower and sexier than he’d expected.  “But I feel like we have.  He talks nonstop about you.”

Mike notices how small her hand feels in his as they shake.  “Then we’re even,” he says, smiling in a way he hopes isn’t as much of a leer as he fears it is.  “When he’s with me, he talks nonstop about you.”

He doesn’t want to let go of her hand, and damn if it doesn’t seem like maybe she holds on a shade longer than necessary, too.

“Listen, Son, I have to call the Mayor.  Can you give me ten minutes?  Kait, you can keep him company, can’t you?  Give him a drink of that Dalmore we’re not supposed to have in the office.”  

His dad actually winks when he says that.  Dork. But Mike only has a second to notice that, because his dad tosses Kaitlyn a small key from his desk drawer and then she’s motioning him out the door.  Mike follows her ass across the lobby to a small conference room, completely oblivious to Eleanor’s smirk at how obvious he is about it.  

In the conference room, Kaitlyn uses the little key to open a highly polished walnut cabinet and takes out a half-empty bottle of scotch, setting it on the oval table that takes up most of the room.  Picking up two glasses from a shelf in the cabinet, she sets them next to the bottle. “Why don’t you pour?”

“Sure,” Mike shrugs, hoping he looks nonchalant.  “None for Dad?”

“Dad doesn’t need one. Dad’s talking to the Mayor.  That’s his drug of choice.”  

Mike feels a very pleasant flutter down low in his stomach at the mischievous look on her face, and the way she smiles at him.  He means to pour only a finger for each of them, but he’s suddenly a little clumsy. He hands her one of the glasses and he’s almost certain she purposely touches his fingers more than necessary as he does.

“L’chaim,” he says, lifting his glass up briefly.

“L’chaim,” Kaitlyn responds, mirroring his action.  

Mike knows how much Dalmore costs, which is why he’s never had it before.  It’s fucking fantastic.  

“Holy shit,” he breathes, before he has a chance to think better of it.

“I know, right?” Kaitlyn’s eyes sparkle.  “This is only the second time I’ve had this.  I’m actually surprised he’s letting us be alone with the bottle.”

She moves to sit in one of the chairs, and he takes the one next to her.  He can feel the scotch warming his insides as he takes another sip.  He’s probably imagining it, but already he thinks he can feel the cares of the week receding.  He’s not imagining that his leg is touching Kaitlyn’s, and neither of them are moving away.  

“So you’re Mike.  You look like him.  I’m sitting here putting a face to all the exploits he’s told me about. You were Special Forces, right?”

“A million years ago,” he says.  “And you’re a lawyer.”

“Don’t hold it against me. I’m nice.  I promise.”

Well, shit.  Now he’s starting to get hard.  Just like that.  “I believe you,” he says, surprised at the gravelly sound of his own voice.  

She smiles and they take another sip.  She is absolutely flirting.  She hasn’t looked away from his eyes since they sat down.

“He didn’t tell me you were beautiful.”  Mike’s shocked that he said that out loud, but not even a little bit sorry, because her reaction is absolutely worth it.  

“He did tell me you were,” she says, and she’s basically purring.  “But I already knew that.  He has pictures of you in his office.”

Mike gives a little embarrassed huff at that, but he leans toward her and puts an elbow on the table.

“What’s he like to work for?”

“He’s… ambitious. Hardworking.  Wants to do the right thing, but also wants to be seen to do the right thing, which isn’t always easy.”  She shrugs.  “Mostly he gets it right.”

“You like him.”

“I do.  I don’t always agree with him, but I believe in him.  He’s taught me a lot.”

Another short silence as they sip.  Damn, this is good stuff, Mike thinks.

“What’s it like to be his son?”

Mike laughs a little at that, sitting back and stretching out his legs, which happens to have the effect of putting more of him in contact with more of her.  “Depends on the day.”  He shrugs in obvious imitation of her.  “Mostly he gets it right.”

They share a warm, delighted smile at that, and Kaitlyn’s frankly approving look causes Mike’s brain to short-circuit a little.  Just enough that he says, “I see why he likes you.”

She just smiles softly at him.  Damn, he thinks.  His cock is fully awake now, and he’s going to have to watch it or it’s going to be noticeable when he has to walk out of here.  

They finish their drinks just as they hear the Chief call Mike’s name from his office.  

“Time to go,” Mike says regretfully, and stands.  “Thanks for the drink.”  He hesitates just a second.  “I’d like to do it again, when we have more time.  Maybe without Dad.”  He barely restrains his urge to wink.

“I’d like that,” Kaitlyn answers, a frank promise in her eyes.  Suddenly, she reaches to the center of the table and picks up a small pad of sticky notes and a pen.  She quickly scribbles on the pad, tears off the top note, and holds it out.  He can see she’s written her phone number on it.

“Text me your number. I’ll text you my address.  Come by after your dinner.”  She leans in as she hands it to him.  “Maybe without Dad.”  She does wink.  

Holy fuck.  Mike knows that if she looks, she’s going to be able to see the effect that has on him.

 He texts Kaitlyn in the cab on the way to the restaurant and, true to her word, she texts her address. “See you soon,” she says, and Mike reacts as though she’d written something explicit.  Mike enjoys his dinner with his dad as much as he’d expected, but he’s a little preoccupied.  When his dad says he has to get home, Mike feels a little guilty for being relieved.

Kaitlyn’s apartment is in an old building which was once a tenement, before the neighborhood was gentrified.  He likes it. It’s clear the apartments are tiny, but it’s a solid building, and they’ve done a nice job keeping the old-fashioned features while getting rid of the squalor.  When he knocks on her door, he wonders what she’ll be wearing.  His imagination, which is getting quite a workout tonight, conjures up all kinds of possibilities.  

She looks spectacular. Mike thinks his mouth might even be hanging open a little.  She’s wearing some kind of silky, pink lounging pants and a simple, white cotton top.  She’s barefoot, which shouldn’t be as sexy as it is. Her hair’s no longer in its prim work style; now it’s down, and it’s softly curly and even darker than it had looked earlier.  She smiles happily – and a little playfully, he thinks – and steps back to let him in. Her apartment’s a railroad flat with the living room just inside the door, but she stays in the hall and asks if she can take his coat.  All he’s wearing is his suit coat – it’s September, after all – but he likes the idea of taking it off, so he does.  She hangs it on one of several hooks on the wall behind the door, and that’s the end of the pleasantries.

He reaches for her at the same time she reaches for him.  She giggles just a little as she puts her arms around his neck, melting into him as he wraps one arm around her waist and one across her back with his hand at her neck.  She also kisses him back as enthusiastically as he’s kissing her.  It’s insanely hot to be in her apartment with her in his arms when they’ve said only a handful of sentences to one another.  For some reason, though, he’s also smiling as he kisses her.  He doesn’t know what that’s about, but she’s loosening his tie so he forgets to think about it.  

When she starts on the buttons of his shirt, he stops trying to hold his lower body away from her so she won’t feel how hard he is already.  Hell, he was half hard when he knocked on her door.  But now that he knows they’re on the same page, he uses the arm that’s around her waist to pull her hips to his.  She doesn’t bother unbuttoning his shirt all the way down, only far enough so that she can pull it off over his head.  When she does, he reaches down and gets a hold of her so he can lift her up. She immediately wraps her legs around him and mumbles, “Second door,” around his tongue.  

When he’s laid her on the bed and kicked off his shoes, he lays down and shifts around until he’s next to her with one arm under her neck and the other across her waist.  “You know what I do for a living.”

She looks slightly confused, with an adorable little wrinkle between her eyebrows.  “Yeah…?”

“Got kind of a thing about consent these days.  Hazard of the job.”  He kisses her and she puts her arms around him, but he holds back to whisper, “I need to be sure this is what you want.”

She actually throws her head back and laughs.  “Holy shit, Mike, I don’t know how to consent any harder.”

Now he laughs, too.  “I thought so, but…”

“I’m sorry,” Kaitlyn says, making an obvious effort to be more serious.  She looks into his eyes.  In the gloom of her bedroom, lit only by whatever lights are on in the living room, her eyes look huge.  How could he have thought she was just pretty earlier?  She’s fucking gorgeous.  “You’re right. I appreciate you looking out for me. And I want to look out for you, too.” She runs her fingers through his hair once, then leaves them there.  “I want you. I want this.”

“I do, too.”

“I want to take off the rest of your clothes.  And I want you to take mine off, too.”

He realizes she’s teasing him a little, but her expression and the way she’s breathing tell him there’s more than that going on.  “And then I want to touch you all over, and I want to kiss you everywhere.  After that, I want you to fuck me.  Slow, and for a long time.  How’s that for consent?”

Mike clears his throat, not entirely confident he’s capable of speech any longer.  “That’s some pretty fucking good consenting right there.”

“Thanks.”  She starts to work on his belt.  

“There’s some consenting I’d like to do, too.”

“Tell me.”  She stops with his belt half-unbuckled.  He has her full attention.

“After I get you naked, I want to run my hands all over your body, and then I want to taste you.  I want to lick you open, and fuck you with my tongue.  I want to listen to the sounds you’ll make, and then I want to watch you come.”

“Oh, shit.  I consent,” Kaitlyn gasps.  “Where do I sign?”

“We’ll take care of the paperwork later,” Mike chuckles, and takes control of Kaitlyn’s mouth.

She tastes like fresh toothpaste, like she’s just brushed her teeth, and he thinks she might have done it when he texted that he was five minutes away.  Something about the idea of her brushing her teeth in preparation for kissing him is sexy as all hell.  He wonders if she worried about her outfit like women tend to do. If she did, she got it absolutely right.  Mostly because it’s really easy to take off.  And although she is technically wearing a bra, it’s a lacy slip of nothing and he can see her nipples through it.  The thought of her choosing to wear that for him makes him have to stop rubbing against her for a minute so he doesn’t come within the first ten minutes of being in her apartment.  

She’s trying to get his pants off, but he’s chuckling as he blocks her, trying to get her clothes off first.  She’s laughing and being a very good sport about it, which he likes.  A lot.  And once he gets her naked, and sees her body in the half-light, he pulls her close and kisses her deeply for a long time, because holy flyin’ balls of shit. He’s gonna need to keep his pants on for a bit longer because, once again, he’s in danger of coming too soon.

Not to be denied, she slips her hand inside his open fly – she’s gotten that far – and starts to stroke him.  Her slight gasp when she feels his cock is really flattering.  He grits his teeth to try to maintain some control as he enjoys the living hell out of what she’s doing with her hand.  She’s multitasking, too, because although he’s completely unable to keep focusing on kissing, there’s something magical about the crazy-slow way she’s moving her lips against his, and that thing she’s doing with her tongue…

“Kaitlyn…”

“Everything OK?”  She stops everything she’s doing, but doesn’t move away.  

“Yeah,” he pants.  “I just…  you’re…”  He scrunches up his face and gives a couple laughs.  “I need a minute to, um, gather my thoughts.”

She smiles sweetly and takes her hand away, but stays right where she is, with her lips so close to his he can feel her breath and smell her toothpaste.  “Thanks?”

“Yeah.  Definitely a compliment.”

Kaitlyn lifts up on her elbow and rests her head on her hand, pushing slightly at Mike so he gets the idea she wants him to roll onto his back.  He does, and she starts to stroke his arms and chest, her face clearly showing that she’s impressed.  

“Mike…”  She breathes.  “You are… I mean, are you real?  Are you kidding me with this body of yours?”

He wears a pleased grin over the next several minutes as she uses her hands and her mouth to appreciate his chest, shoulders, arms, and then rolls onto him and begins with breathy kisses on his neck.  He groans and uses his hands on her hips to move her against him.  

“You ready for me to take these pants off you?”

“Hell, yes…”

She wastes no time getting him the rest of the way naked, then crawls sinuously up his body, pushing his legs apart as she moves between them.  

“Oh, no,” Mike says, sitting up enough to put his huge hands on her upper arms and slide her up his body. “I didn’t consent to that.”

“What?”  Kaitlyn’s obviously stunned.

Although she’s several inches shorter than Mike and he’s twice her size, Kaitlyn’s not small. Still, he has no trouble flipping them over until he’s suddenly on top of her, kissing her with a carnal laugh. “I’m the one who said I wanted to taste you.”

Kaitlyn, relieved, relaxes again and kisses him back.  “Shit…” she gasps as he uses his legs to move hers apart.  

She’s not touching his dick anymore, which helps, but she is making noises so erotic he thinks he still might come too soon.  And when he kisses his way down to her breasts and starts nuzzling a nipple, she puts her arms over her head, abandoning herself to him, which is so damn hot he’s pretty sure he’s whimpering.  He can’t be sure, though, because he’s way too focused on her.  

He loses track of time while he’s stroking and licking her breasts, teasing her nipples with his fingertips and his tongue until they’re as hard as his cock and she’s doing her own whimpering.  But it must have been quite a while, because he realizes she’s rocking her pelvis against him in a way that’s starting to feel demanding.  Being the gentleman he is, Mike doesn’t keep his lady waiting.  He kisses down her abdomen until he’s scooted down low enough to hook her thighs over his shoulders and nestle between them.

She’s dripping wet and moving against his mouth as soon as he begins to explore her.  “Aww, Kaitlyn, you taste so fucking good…” he murmurs between strokes with his tongue.  She’s moaning and he can hear how hard she’s breathing between short, whispered exclamations.   Which only intensifies as he begins to thrust his tongue into her, using a couple of fingers to softly, slowly spread some of her slick onto her puckered hole.  

“Mike…  Mike… now…  I wanna come-“

Remember the part about how Mike’s a gentleman?  He uses two fingers of his other hand to replace his tongue, and begins to circle the hard nub of her clit, paying attention to her to let him know how much pressure she likes.  He doesn’t need to worry about that, though, because she rubs against him, controlling the pressure herself.  He slides his fingers in and out, adding one in her other hole as he feels and hears her start to come apart.  He’d guessed that she’d be loud, and he’d been right.  Her cries, curses and filth interspersed with his name, and gasps of pleasure are even better than he’d hoped.  

When she’s been reduced to a quivering, whining mess, he feels her pull at his shoulders, and he’s more than ready to oblige.  He’s a little relieved he’s managed to hold off this long, but he knows when he gets inside her, he’s not going to last.  He quickly moves up to take her in his arms.  

“I gotta get-“  he gasps between kisses.

Kaitlyn reaches out an arm toward the bedside table at her left, but she can’t quite reach.  “Top drawer,” she whispers shakily.

Mike’s arms are much longer, and he has no trouble reaching the drawer and taking out the fresh pack of condoms.  “My kind of girl,” he chuckles deeply as he goes back to kissing her while he fumbles the box open.

“I stopped at the store on my way home,” Kaitlyn says between kisses.  

“You just assumed I was this easy?”

“I hoped,” she giggles.

He has to take a little time entering her, even as wet as she is.  

“Unh…” she grunts happily, using her heels against his back to adjust their positions so she can take all of him.  

“You OK?”

“I will be.  Oh, I will be…”

Once he’s inside her and starts moving, she decides he’s not close enough to coming on the first stroke and starts talking dirty to him, as if she knows how much he loves that.

“Oh, you should come with a fucking warning label…  Shit, Mike… Oh, my-  Fuck!  Mike, your cock is… magnificent…  Yes!  You feel so fucking good…”

And, with that, she starts to come again, and he’s gone.  He’s pretty sure they can hear him shouting three blocks away as he comes as hard as he ever has in his life.  Later, when his neurons begin firing again, he’s going to be a little embarrassed at how quickly he comes, but then, she started it.  It may not have taken any time to get there, but Mike’s orgasm feels like it lasts forever.  When it’s over, he rolls them over a little so that he’s not crushing Kaitlyn, but that’s the best he can do for a minute.  As soon as he catches his breath a little, he deals with the condom in a little trash can he noticed next to her bed, and then he’s done.  He pulls her into his arms with a luxurious sigh and goes into a hormone- and endorphin-addled trance.  

Kaitlyn’s not quite so languid, although she came twice.  She squirms around a little bit, until she’s facing him with one of his legs between hers.  He feels her stroking a hand over his shoulder and upper arm, and cracks an eye open to look at her.  She grins at him.  “Doze if you want.  I’ll just be over here fondling you, because damn.  You can’t expect me to just ignore guns like these.”

Mike chuckles quietly and murmurs, “Fondle away.”

He actually sleeps for a little bit.  When he wakes up, he’s blissfully surprised to find that Kaitlyn’s real, and she’s naked in his arms, and she’s smiling lazily at him.  He can’t help but smile back, although he can only imagine what a mess he is right now.  Kaitlyn, however, looks freshly fucked in the best possible way, her hair a little wild, her lips a little puffy from kissing, and her eyes heavy-lidded with sleepy satisfaction.

“You’re beautiful,” Mike murmurs, hearing the words before he’s had a chance to even process the thought.

“Right back atcha.”

“You want me to go?”

“I want you to stay. Will you?”

“Yeah.  I’d like that a lot.”  

 It’s the next morning that it happens.  Mike’s phone starts ringing at a ridiculous hour, especially considering that he and Kaitlyn woke each other up twice to make love again.  The phone is somewhere on the floor, in the pocket of Mike’s pants, and neither of them want to move from the warm, comfortable knot they’re in. But it keeps ringing.  As soon as it stops, it starts again.

“That trouble?” Kaitlyn asks, her voice a cute, scratchy groan.

“Could be.  I’m trying to remember how to move.”

“Sorry.  Can’t help you.”

“You’re going to need to get off of me.”

“Not gonna happen.”

Mike’s quiet laugh is regretful as he lifts Kaitlyn and sets her softly down next to him, then scoots to the edge of the bed.  He stands up, looking around for a moment before he sees his pants.  He slides the phone out of the pocket as it starts ringing again, and swears surprisingly viciously when he sees the name on the screen. He swipes down to decline the call and tosses the phone onto the deep reading chair in one corner of Kaitlyn’s bedroom.  He reaches down for his pants and sighs as he puts them on, then picks up his phone again.

“Everything OK?” Kaitlyn’s eyes are all the way open now.

“Yeah.  But I’m afraid I gotta go.”

“Who was that?”

“My-“  Mike bites back the word he was about to say.  

“Your…?”

“Nothing.”  Mike goes to the side of the bed and sits down next to Kaitlyn, putting an arm across her and grinning sheepishly down at her.  “I had a really, really good time.”

“Me, too,” Kaitlyn smiles. “And just think.  We haven’t even known each other twenty-four hours.”

“Just over twelve, actually,” Mike grins again and scratches his head.  “I’m so ashamed.”

“Me, too.  When can I see you again?”

“Another twelve hours?”

Kaitlyn’s about to enthusiastically agree, but Mike’s phone rings again.  He’s holding it in his hand, and he can tell the moment Kaitlyn sees the screen. It’s a picture of Mike and a cute woman with short, reddish-blonde hair, and they’re kissing while looking at the camera.  The name Susan is written in large letters across the top of the screen.  Mike feels Kaitlyn freeze.  He swipes his thumb down the screen, but not nearly quickly enough.  

She doesn’t say anything. Just looks at him.  But he can see the dawning hurt and anger in her eyes.

“Sorry about that.”

Kaitlyn’s voice is unemotional.  Way too unemotional.  “When I asked who it was, you said ‘my’, but you didn’t finish.  I’m guessing the next word was going to be ‘girlfriend’?”

“It’s… complicated,” he sputters, sounding lame as fuck, even to himself.

“Not to me.  Let yourself out, would you?  I’ve got time for another hour of sleep.”

She rolls away from him and pulls the covers up around her neck.  

“Kaitlyn-“

“Bye, Mike.  Nice to meet you.”  

For a minute, he thinks about trying to explain.  But he really can’t.  Fucking Susan.  He really should have had the balls to just end it.  Well, he’s sure as shit going to end it now.  Not that it will make any difference to Kaitlyn, who he’s sure is lying there thinking all kinds of nasty, shitty, true things about him.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters as he stands up to look for his shoes and the rest of his clothes.  

He feels like absolute crap as he lets himself out of Kaitlyn’s apartment.  

[heartthrobcityimagine]

Who Is This?? Part 7 (part 2)/ Noah Centineo

A/N: PART 2!! I’m excited are you excited? I wonder who it was? Let’s see if all your guesses were right!

Warnings: Language, Triggers, Abuse, Violence. 

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

As the last note of your song plays. streams of tears run down your face. Deafening silence follows your last note, then a roar of applause ripples it’s way through the crowd. You take a glance out in the audience, the lights making it hard to see, you regain your focus searching for Jace. Your eyes meet a familiar pair, shock written on your face.

What the fuck was he doing here??!? ===========================================================

Your heart was pounding in your chest, you were frozen to the spot you sat in. 

The lights go down shaking you from the trance you were in. With quivering hands you quickly rip your sheet music from the piano and make a mad dash for the backstage area, pushing your way through people running about backstage. A hand wraps around your arm spinning you around. You let out a small shriek. Your heart stops.

" (Y/N)! Damn, sorry, I didn't mean to scare you! You did amazing though! I can't believe you can sing like that girl! I would not be surprised if you get a call from one of the labels!" Kat practically screams in your face. 

" Thanks Kat," You say quickly. She notices the nervou look on your face and her face scrunches in concern. 

" Hey, are you okay? What's going on."  

You give her a quick smile, " Yeah, fine. Just adrenaline from the performance." Her raised eyebrow as she tilts her head gives away that she didn't believe you one bit. 

" I'm fine really, just need to go find my friend." You reassure her. She gives you a nod and a quick hug.

" Alright, but seriously you did amazing. I have a feeling we'll be seeing a lot more of each other." You give her a confused look as she winks and let's you go.

Shaking your head you make your way to the exit of the stage. You race down the stairs, your eyes quickly trying to scan the people around you. You break into a full sprint as soon as your feet hit the ground, your halfway to the main gate when you rip your phone out of your pocket and dial Jace. 

"BABE.... you.. di... go.." You could barely hear Jace over the noise of the crowd and the next act. 

" Jace! I need you to meet me at my car.... is here" 

"Who.... here? I can't... you." 

Frustrated you rip the phone from your ear and quickly text him.

You: Meet me at my car. I'm parked in the main front lot. You press send and take off again. 

Panting you finally see your car come in to view, pulling your keys out of your pocket you slow down and walk the rest of the way, looking up when you reach your car. 

Your heart stops at who is standing beside it. He obviously knew you too well. You look around the rest of the parking lot, everyone else was inside the festival.  

" (Y/N), you did so great! I didn't know you could sing like that. You know, I can kind of sing too.. Wanna hear?" He trails as he catches the look on your face.  

" I'm going to go ahead and guess that you're kind of shocked I'm here right? Well, I wasn't going to come after everything that happened, but, I really wanted to be here to support you and see you and I'm so glad I did. The look on your face when you seen me in the crowd was priceless!" He cackles. 

You didn't know what to say, what could you even say? The fact he was even here left you speechless. 

" You gonna say anything?" He says, trying to search your face for any expression other than shock. 

You look around for Jace. He was always your saving grave and right now you needed him to hurry the fuck up. 

"Okay, guess not. You could at least tell me what you're thinking after everything you've done to me, I at least deserve that." 

Okay, that was it. The straw that broke camel's back. Something in your snapped. Rage filled your body. 

"Everything I've done? Everything I'VE DONE?! Are you fucking kidding me? You deserve something alright..." You look at him ridiculously. 

"Well Yea.." 

" No, fuck you! You don't get to speak. Fuck you. Everything I've done." You scoff. 

" Did you not get the fucking hint when I put a PERMANENT RESTRAINING ORDER ON YOU TYE?! You're not even supposed to be here?! How the hell did you even know I was supposed to be here." 

" I have eyes and ears everywhere baby. Don't forget that. Plus all it took was a tiny little call from my dad to the head of the festival and bam! Information just falls into my lap. " A disgusted shiver runs through your body.

" Don't you dare fucking call me that. You lost that privilege a long time ago. You know you're not supposed to have contact with me Tye. Why can't you move on?  You were the one who ruined this, not me. You were the one who sent those photos to everyone." 

" (Y/N), I told you before I didn't do that." 

He runs his hands through his hair and down his face. He looked like a completely different person than 2 years ago. He once black, short, perfectly groomed hair was now well past his ears ans unruly. His muscular face was distraught and sunken in. His once vibrant green eyes were now dull and filled with an insane look behind them, it's then you notice how his pupils are blown out, almost completely blending with the iris of his eyes. 

You couldn't help yourself from asking, " Tye, what the fuck are you on? DId you start taking pills again?" You try to search his eyes but he refuses. 

Your eyes fall to his arms were faint bruises and red track marks are scattered across his forearms. " Tye.... are you shooting up?!? What the fuck have you done? That shit can kill you!" 

"I DON'T GIVE A FUCK. It give me the high I need to get through classes and to deal with my dad. I don't give a fuck!." He makes a couple steps forwards as you take a few back. You needed to keep space between you. If he was shooting up there is no way to tell what he is using or what he might do.  

Your head whips side to side, eyes frantically searching for any sign of Jace, or anyone for that matter. The lot was still empty as far as you could tell. Panic was beginning to set in and you did the only thing you could think of. 

" Tye, I'm giving you a chance to just walk away. We don't have to tell anyone you were here. No one else has seen you. You don't want to go down for that. You're young. You just need some help." You try to reason with him. 

A crazy look flashes in his eyes, he takes a few more steps forward as you go back, you knees hit the bumper of someone else's car. 

" You think I would've even showed up here if I gave a fuck about what would happen? I don't. As far as I'm concerned my dad may be worthless in every other aspect of parenthood but he damn sure can get my ass out of trouble." 

You quickly realized that he wasn't going to leave, any logic he had has now gone out the window with whatever he injected in to his veins. 

" Fine, I'm calling the police then. They can gladly take your ass in, I doubt your dad can get you out of this one Tye. Your high out of your mind and you've violated a restraining order. Both are pretty serious offenses." 

He laughs, fucking laughs, “ He got me out of that mess that you caused, paid the cops off to convince you not to press charges, worked huh? So yeah, I think I’ll be fine.” He lets out another laugh. A terrified shiver runs through your body. 

You go to pull your phone out of your pocket when it's knocked to the ground. Your air supply is cut off by a rough hand against your neck, holding you against the back of the vehicle behind you. 

"Don't even think about it (Y/N). I'll kill you before they even get here." Your eyes widen as you feel a sharp object against your abdomen.  Tears flow down your face. 

" Oh, now she's crying. " He says with a wild look in his eyes.

" Tye please" You choke out with what little air you had left. You were becoming lightheaded from the lack of oxygen.  His grip only became tighter. 

" Tye please," He says in a mocking high pitch tone.  

" Why should I not kill you? You've ruined my life. Once you filed the permanent restraining order I was kicked out of my program. The temporary one wasn’t a big deal, Dad got me out of that with them. Claiming since it was only temporary and I wasn’t convicted of anything they couldn’t do anything. Once you filed the permanent one it went on my fucking record, you stupid bitch. I was kicked out of school because they didn't want someone who was dangerous to attend there. Apparently they frown upon domestic abuse! I always knew you were a worth piece of shit." He says this as though it was the most foreign idea to him that there were consequences for his actions. It wasn’t the first time he had called you those names though, he always did love to call you terrible things. 

Black spots began to pop up in your vision, you could feel consciousness beginning to slip away. Tears streaming down your face. He was seriously going to kill you. 

You hear someone yell, you could barely make out their voice as ringing set in to your ears. Tye's hand released from your throat as a fist flew into the side of his face. 

Your body falls to the ground, a throbbing ache sets in to your head from hitting the pavement. You tried to suck in air but a searing pain throughout your abdomen was preventing you from doing so. Your vision was going in and out, you could hear muffled grunts from the fight going on just beside you. 

You hear a muffled scream for your name just as everything goes black and your body limp.

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

Alrighty! There is part 2! Let me know what ya’ll think! How do we feel about that? Who was the saving grace? 

Part 8 

[bestworstcase]

"A scrappy feral gremlin barely restrained by the fact her dad is a cop" is probably one of the best descriptions of Cass I've ever seen. Bravo.

i love her so much

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #203

I’m not dead, World of Warcraft just devoured my life again.

Have you ever been inside of an abandoned building? Yes; a shack first, but we picked up the courage to just barely set foot into this small building absolutely littered with newspapers and such. Almost went into the main house, but my sister, friend, and I were too intimidated by the idea. I didn't want to imagine what could be in there; already anxious by that age, I worried about feral animals or homeless being in there. Have you ever actually believed in monsters? (Like as a kid) Yes, I think. Do you have any fascination with the macabre? Examples? Oh boy, do you know me? I find most gore cool, I love bone art/vulture culture sort of stuff, I find death and decay fascinating, then there's the roadkill photography I do (done in only great respect/to show the horror of what we can cause), dark and especially gory artwork... I could go on for a while. Do you actually think skeletons are scary? I LOVE skeletons, add that to the above list. I was always excited in school if our science class had a replica in it. What monster movie is your favorite? This is broad... You mean like, actual monsters? Not like Freddy Krueger, per se, and focused on them? Hell I dunno, maybe Monsters Inc., lol. Is Hocus Pocus really a good movie, or a bit overrated? We cannot associate if you so much as dislike Hocus Pocus. What witch-themed movie/show is your favorite, anyhow? See above. Do you like The Nightmare Before Christmas? Hell yeah. Ha, pretty funny though: I'm not obsessed with the movie or anything, yet people give me sooooooo much Jack Skellington stuff for my birthday and/or Christmas. I do love Jack, totally, but you'd assume I was more in love with the character than I actually am. Do you count it as a Halloween movie and a Christmas movie? Halloween, for me. Do you like Jack or Sally better? Jack. What other Tim Burton works do you enjoy, if any? Corpse Bride and Alice in Wonderland are my absolute favorites, then there's Frankenweenie, Beetlejuice, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, James and the Giant Peach (literally my lil sis's and my childhoods), and probably more. I just love him. Are there any ‘dark’ or ‘spooky’ films you recommend? Absolutely the original Blair Witch Project. Spoiler, you never see the "witch," and that just made it so much spookier, particularly when there's a scene that seems to have a high chance of her showing up on the camera. It's very convincing in selling it as "based on a true story;" the characters act realistic in the situations they're in and are very dedicated to acting well. It's my personal definition of a "good" horror movie. If anything, shit, watch it for the ending. Creepiest goddamn thing. Just for fun – what would your personal hell look like? Yeesh, let's not visualize that... On Supernatural, do you like the angels or demons better? I am way, WAY behind, but from very faint memories, I believe the demons. Have you ever purchased anything from an occult or New Age shop? What? No. Do you know any Pagans/Wiccans? I believe one of my old friends is Wiccan? Do you know any Satanists? I don't believe so. Would you ever keep a tarantula as a pet? Nah. Are there any urban legends in your area? What are they? Looked it up and apparently NC does have some, but idk about *my* area. Do you find dead trees beautiful? Some, like really big ones. Who was the last person you sat next to? Mom. Are you embarrassed to let others see you without makeup? No. Have you ever had a nickname at your church? If so, what? Don't believe so, when I grew up going to church. What was the last stuffed animal you bought? Not sure. Maple trees, fir trees, or palm trees? Maple. Which biblical name do you prefer: Naomi, Esther, Rachel, or Joanna? Naomi, easily. I used to want to name my hypothetical daughter that. Which biblical guys name do you prefer: Seth, Jedidiah, Ezra, or Buz? Seth. Who is the hardest working person you know? MY. MOTHER. She works her fucking ASS off; I'd like to see most people handle even a single day in her life. Can you name any songs by Godsmack? A few: "No Rest For The Wicked," "Whatever," "Mama," "Voodoo," "Voodoo Too," "Hollow," "Time Bomb," "The Enemy," and... that may be it? What has been the most exciting moment of your life thus far? Meeting Sara. How deeply do you care for your education? Is it something you take seriously? I don't really know how to answer this. Like... I care, but I don't care enough to be competitive about it or obsess over it. I target for just being "enough." Would you prefer to go to a beach or to a park for a day, and why? What would you do? Park. The beach is too hot, windy, and I hate the feel of sand. Idk what I'd do at the park considering there are various kinds... What are five things you own in your favorite color? Tank top, iPod, uh... I'm blanking. Is your favorite clothing store close to your house or do you have to travel far? The nearest one is like an hour away. In real life do you laugh like ‘haha,’ ‘hehe’ or something else? The former. Do you have any unusual skills? No. Do you have any bug bites right now? No. Do you like to look at other peoples’ houses? Sure, when riding by them. What’s the weirdest compliment you’ve ever received? Good question. Maybe my toes are cute? (They're fucking tiny.) Would you say you’re more witty or childish about jokes? Witty, I guess. What do you think about video games? One of the greatest technological achievements. Video games brought forth a new form of entertainment to enjoy, one that can hold someone's focus for hours and stay fun. They can also tell fantastic stories, just like reading a book or watching TV, and the more and more realistic in vision games are becoming, it just becomes easier with every game to feel more immersed in the universe. What would you, or do you, study at college? I'm going for zoology. Have you ever had, or wanted, a pet ferret? Oh my god in Heaven, yes. They are so damn cute; when Sara was here and we were in PetSmart for something, I actually started tearing up and squealing because of how GODDAMN PRECIOUS THEY WERE, like they all came up to the glass pawing at us, and watching them play was one of the cutest things I've ever seen. The only thing holding me back from getting one is the fact I know they are veeery messy and require a lot of care. Is there anything you find undeserving of the hype it received? Eh, don't feel like thinking about this. In other words, idk and idc. Do you think it’s better to label yourself than be labelled? Who cares, honestly. Don't restrain yourself with a label, and what others see in you and you following along with it solely because of that is naive. What’s something you do a lot? Over-evaluate anything and everything, because my OCD has been an absolute beast for the longest time. Are you currently on any other websites? Twitch and deviantART are open. Have you ever been told you naturally tilt your head a certain way? YES. I have done this since like... late middle school or earlier when the hair to the right of my part covered my eye. My mom points it out all the time, and no matter how many times I've tried to unlearn it, I can't do it. My head physically feels weird if I straighten it. When was the last time you laughed at someone? Some time earlier when I was watching Mark play GTA. Do you have any projects on the go right now? I started a massive YouTubers video with "High Hopes" over a month ago, and now I haven't touched it since the day I started lmao. Do you, or did you, really look forward to when you can finally move away? Eh... yes and no. I really question my ability to be that independent. What’s the worst tattoo you’ve ever seen? Who knows. What’s your favorite name ever? Alessandra. Are you a hat person? No. Have you ever forgotten how to do something simple? Ha, yeah. Have you ever been hit on by somebody way too old for you? Possibly an old family friend; he had this thing for being REALLY flirtatious with my older sister, and then me sometimes as I got older. We were never alone with him or anything, I mean he did it right in front of our mother and dad (he fucking loathed him because of it, probably still does), so we think he was joking? Have you ever climbed a chain-link fence? Yes. Have you ever had to run from the cops? No. Do you know anyone who is constantly humming? No? Are you afraid of any specific animals? I mean the usual insects and spiders, then there's the few more unusual ones such as SLUGS, MAGGOTS, larvae in general really, whale sharks, worms... probably others that aren't coming to me. Did anything comical happen to you today? No. Are you any good at fussball? Not especially. Who do you usually dream about? Jason is most often in the ones I actually remember. Yay. It made sense when I wasn't even beginning to heal, but now that I am and I STILL have them despite having fully and entirely moved on, I finally just asked my mother if it was normal, which apparently it is extremely common with even "recovered" PTSD victims. Shoulda asked/looked it up way sooner... Do you visit your dentist as often as you should? Yeah, thanks to Mom. She always ensures I stay updated with medical exams/appointments. I'm lucky as hell to have her here to keep my life straight. Do you still have a teddy bear? Maybe in the bags in the attic? Did you get any Girl Scout cookies this year? No. They don't come here. What’s your favorite fairytale? Bitch Shrek don't even @ me it's a fucking fairytale. Do you apologize when you know you should? Usually. In most cases, I feel overwhelming guilt otherwise. Do apologies really make anything better? Sometimes, to a degree. Can other people tell when you’re high? I've never been high. Do you own a birdcage? No. Have you ever planted anything? Yeah. Have you ever been blackmailed into doing anything? No. What eyeshadow color looks best on you? I only ever wear black. Can you tolerate small children? jfc no. In almost any situation. Even my niece and nephew, I can't be around them but for so long without getting burnt out or aggravated. What’s the stupidest behavior humans partake in? Holy sweet mother of The Lord God Almighty- Have you ever seriously considered suicide? Yeah. Did you ever hit anything while learning to drive? I like... immediately hit a curb lmao, and I STILL can't turn past them without the risk of running over it. It's one of the things that's holding me back from getting my license yet. Which movie’s musical score is truly memorable? UM, The Lion King??????? Hurry the FUCK up July. Which TV show theme music do you remember most? That '70s Show. Have you ever bounced any checks? I've never even used a check... How many speeding tickets have you been given? None. Not that I drive a lot. First kiss: quick, sloppy, and forgettable or passionate and memorable? It was fucking adorable and definitely memorable. I don't care how I feel about him now, that's a little event I'll always remember and cherish. Jeff Foxworthy, Bill Engvall, Ron White, or Larry the Cable Guy? OH GOD what was that stand-up show with just them? I LOVED that back as a teen. I don't know who I liked most, but probably Jeff or Bill. I do know Ron was my least favorite, but he wasn't bad. How many bills do you pay online? I'm a 23-year-old "adult" who doesn't have bills. What’s the highest score you ever bowled? Hell if I remember. Nothing impressive. What’s your definition of a good, full breakfast? The "perfect" picture is like pancakes, scrambled cheesy eggs, and bacon. Whats your favorite flavor of jam? Of what I've tried, I only like grape. Are you a fast runner? I can't even TELL you the last time this bitch ran. At school was is/was the main reason you get/got in trouble? It was never severe trouble, just a quick word, but Jason because we'd always hug and usually just exchange a peck in-between going to classes; both were no-nos in our shit school, and the hall monitors or whatever would tell us not to if they saw, buuut we didn't listen. Hell, I think maybe hand-holding was against the rules too, which I know we didn't abide by if that was present. Do you make your views heard or do you hide in the background? It depends. I'd say heard more often, maybe? Do you have many friends from foreign countries? No. Can you open your mouth very wide? No. You know those things at the dentist where you have to bite down straight onto them for an impression of your molars? If the dentist was considerate enough, I'd use the one for older children instead of adult because I canNOT fully bite down on the normal ones without it being incredibly painful and I gag like mad to the point I inevitably tear up. What was the reason for your last x-ray? My knees were being checked with all the horrible pain I'd been dealing with from them. Did you have a rebellious phase growing up? Not for the sake of being rebellious, no. I only had such streaks (and still do) when I saw/see them appropriate to the situation. What religion were you brought up with? Roman Catholic. What is the most common name where you live? I dunno. Elizabeth, maybe? Actually just looked it up for the hell of it and what I found first says William (which I can absolutely believe) and Ava (which I question?). When something really scares you, what’s your immediate reaction? Jump, gasp, and either dash or stare at whatever the source is like a deer in headlights. Does it bother you to be around people who are smoking? Yes. How much time do you spend on the phone a day? Not long at all. I check Instagram usually at least once, and I don't follow a lot at all. Sometimes I check Facebook on my phone, but I usually do on my laptop now. That doesn't take very long, either. Your favorite song lyrics right now: "What I do know is come Judgment Day, I followed love; can you say the same?" from "Natural Born Sinner" by In This Moment. Do you think it’s possible for a rap song to make you cry? Ever heard "Runaway Love" by Ludacris & Mary J. Blige? Bitch you bet it makes me wanna cry. Name three books that have actually made you cry [really cry not a few tears]: I don't think I've ever gone beyond just a few tears, really. The Notebook probably was the hardest on me, though. Or Old Yeller. Idr. Is it easy to annoy you? Maybe. Do you watch musicals? If so, which is your favorite? If not, why not? No, because they make me cringe into a new dimension. Do you wear short shorts & tanktops in the summer? You will never see me in shorts, and I wear tank tops like... always. Always to bed, at least. Does the idea of having a baby at your age scare you? Having a baby period does. No fucking thanks. Do you remember who your best friend was in fourth grade? Quiata. Maybe still Brianna, idr. What band has the power to make you cry by splitting up? None. Is there anywhere in your house that you’re scared to be alone in? No. Any embarrassing/childish shows you secretly still enjoy watching? No. I don't watch TV period, but what I do like, BELIEVE THIS SHIT OR NOT, I'm not embarrassed. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital for a long period of time? I think the longest I was ever supposed to stay somewhere was three months, but that didn't actually happen. The longest I've actually been in a hospital was two weeks, give or take. Would you feel funny if you kissed somebody of the same sex? I'm not straight so obviously not. Name three things in your room that others probably don’t have in theirs: An iguana, a snake, and a rat. In the same general area lmao. What’s something you can cook or bake like a pro? Nothing. If you could pull off any hairstyle, what would it look like? A pixie cut. The kind with the shaved sides. Besides furniture, what’s the biggest thing in your bedroom? Uhhh my snake's cage? Do you diet and exercise regularly? I do a 16-hour fast daily. What’s something that you think is really cute? Even though I don't want kids, I can't see men being really vibrant and cute with babies or toddlers without just alksdfjioawer Would you rather donate time, blood, or money? Hm. I feel like ultimately, money would be most beneficial in the majority of cases? Can grills be sexy on a guy? They are incredibly unattractive on anyone. Are braces cute? Not particularly, but they're not like, unattractive. Unlike grills, they serve an actual purpose and aren't as obnoxious. Which of your friends makes you laugh the hardest? Girt. What brings out the worst in you? Being extremely stressed. I'm seriously snappy and irritable. Would you rather go to Canada or Mexico on vacation? Canada, probably. If you have glasses, do you get days when you don’t feel like wearing them? I don't think about it because I don't have a choice if I want to see. Do you ever wear hats indoors? I don't wear them period. Have you ever played bingo at an actual bingo hall? No. Have you ever pledged money to a Kickstarter and it reached its goal? If so, did you get any fun extra stuff because you pledged a higher amount? No. What’s your favorite comic book/graphic novel? I don't have one. What’s something you can do without looking/with your eyes closed? Type. Is there a color combination that holds a significance to you? If so, what is the combination and what does it mean? No. What was the last thing you swore at? I don't know. If you use Facebook, do you ever look at the Memories page? Ugh no. Let's not remind myself of dark times or more specifically cringy ones. Do you have a drawer where you just throw some random stuff? No. What’s the funniest shirt that you own? I don't find any really funny. What is something you absolutely refuse to pay for? Ummm "fancy" clothing brands, to name one of the top contenders. Has a stray/runaway cat or a dog ever followed you home? If so, what did you do with it? Maybe a cat? I don't think so, though. Is there a stranger you expect to see every day? No. What is something you take pride in? My recovery. What is something you have a lot of experience in? I guess photography? What’s the biggest magnet on your fridge? I don't feel like going to check. Do you prefer things (movies, books, etc) that scare you or make you laugh? Entertainment media rarely actually scares me, but I prefer "scary" stuff. Were you born with naturally straight teeth? Well, I had to get braces, so I would assume not? Do you try not to take a lot of medicine or do you take it whenever? I avoid OTCs when I can; I'm on enough prescribed stuff. Do you prefer original or sour Skittles? Sour. Do you check to make sure your ear phones are going in the right ear? No. Are fireworks illegal to buy where you live? The big ones, yes. People still go to Myrtle Beach on the SC side to buy them tho. Can you talk and work at the same time? No. Do you care more about yourself or more about others? This really depends on what the situation is... and my state of mind at the time. But I think usually myself? It used to be others, but I learned how unhealthy that can be. Do you find it easy to pass the time or do you get really bored? I get bored excruciatingly easily. How often do you re-watch/re-read things or are you more ‘once only’? I'm typically an "only once" person. What color ink do you prefer writing in? Black? Have you inherited any garments from your parents or grandparents? I don't think so. When was the last time you visited the doctor? Why did you go? Around a week ago to get my vitamin D re-checked. Have you ever been in a Catholic confessional? Yes. Who was the last non-relative you rode in a vehicle with? My VR coach. What movie are you looking forward to coming out? I will be seeing the live action TLK as fast as physically possible. What was the title of the last song you listened to? "God Hates Your Outfit" lmao. ^Who performs it? Jeffree Star. Can you do a backflip? No. Is your car newer than a 2004? I don't have my own car. Who is the lead singer of your favorite band? Ozzy Osbourne. How would you feel if you knew you were adopted? If I grew up knowing, I wouldn't feel much of anything new besides the fact I'd be grateful as hell someone chose me. If I just suddenly found out, I'd be inexplicably shocked and furious I was never told. Do you have freckles? No. Do you have dimples? Very clearly on my left cheek, and I have a super shallow one on the right that used to be more apparent. And I have back dimples. When was the last time you went fishing? When Sara was here in June last year. Do you know anyone with a pet that has your name? No. Do you expect to be married in the next 2 years? Most likely not. What was the last injury you received? Probably something from Roman playing. Have you ever liked someone and never told them? Yeah. Do you regret it? No. Do you ever get in weird moods and listen to music you normally hate? Very rarely I listen to pop from when I was a kid. How old is the oldest person you’ve dated? Well, we "dated" for less than a day, but idk. I'd guess he's 27-ish now? Have you ever tried a colorful macaroon? No. What’s the last thing you made out of clay? An anatomical heart, I think? Did you learn to type through a computer program for kids? Not really for kids? We took them in middle school, and they weren't like, super kiddy. How many years were you homeschooled? I never was. What color is the tree outside your window? Uhhh probably green? I don't wanna get up and look. What do you take for pain? Advil/Ibuprofen. Which pharmacy do you use? Harris Teeter. What is this month’s calendar picture? Don't have a calendar. Is there a coffee shop in your town that’s better than Starbucks? N/A Who has the best personality on YouTube? Shane Dawson's is probably the most universally likable, I think. Have you ridden your bike yet this year? I don't have one anymore. What does your bike look like? N/A Who are your favorite kids that you’ve babysat? I babysat only once and hated it. Not the kid, just the duty. Who is your favorite cousin? I don't have a favorite. Does one side of your family live in another state? Both sides do. What states did your parents grow up in? New York and Ohio. What, if anything, are you severely allergic to? Severely, nothing. Have you ever had an allergic reaction to an insect? No, thankfully. Do you spill food on yourself while you eat? Not often. What is a topic you like to answer questions on the most? Meerkats or Mark. Have you ever seen a queen bee outside its hive? I have no clue. Which Clue (or Cluedo) character is your favorite? I was always Miss Scarlet because even as a kid I knew she was hot stuff. Do you watch any old films? If so, name a few of your favorites. I don't really watch movies period. But a few I like are The Outsiders, Old Yeller, Johnny Got His Gun, A Raisin In The Sun, Steel Magnolias... lots of others, really. Just not many are coming to mind immediately. Who are some of your classic era film actors and actresses, if any? Idk. Do you have any novelty ice cube trays? No. Your ex taps you on the shoulder and says, “I still love you.” You say? The only ex who I'm aware even loved me in the first place is Jason, and I probably wouldn't say anything. Got a very strong feeling my PTSD would literally erupt like goddamn Saint Helen and I'd leave the situation in the blink of an eye. I don't love him anymore, and I don't even know if I'd believe him telling me that now, but I know damn well it would fuck with me. Would you ever work at a movie theater? It sure as hell wouldn't be my first pick. At least here, they're grossly underpaid and overworked. Do you have a phone charger in your car? If you have a specific type of cord. Do you live far from your parents? I live with my mom. Dad's like... 20-ish minutes away, if that? Can you go see a doctor alone or do you like to take someone with you? Mom is always with me. Do you like pineapple on pizza? Never tried, never want to. I can just about guarantee I would positively loathe it. Sweet and savory don't mix with me. Do you like to hold hands? With my s/o and I'm comfortable with them, yeah. What’s a show that you absolutely refuse to watch? 13 Reasons Why. How many times have you been in love? Twice. Do you remember how old you were when you started swearing? However old I was in the 7th grade. Last thing you cooked? Toaster strudels in the toaster oven. Movie you want to see? I wanna see the newest HTTYD soooo badly, but I doubt I'll get the chance while it's in theaters. Ever spent the night in a tent? Yeah. What do you call your grandparents? Grammy. The others are dead. Can you snap your fingers? Poorly with my right hand. Can you wink? Only with my right eye. How many keys do you carry with you? One. How well do you know the people you live with? Well, she's my mom and we're very close. Do you own any jerseys? No. Who knows your biggest secrets? Sara. Have you ever ran from your own parents? No. Are you afraid of clowns? No. Do you crack your knuckles? I physically can't, and besides, the sound is disgusting to me. Who IMed you on Facebook last? Girt. Could you see yourself dropping out of high school? I'm long out of high school, and I didn't. Do you have any personal fashion rules that revolve around your own preferences/body type (e.g., you never/always wear a certain color, sleeve type, or length of dress)? I don't wear shorts, tight shirts, dresses, skirts, crop tops, I wouldn't dare touch a romper, I highly doubt I'd wear yellow... just to name the ones that came to me immediately. Do you remember any celebrity whose style you admired when you were a teen? What do you think of that style now? YO Avril Lavigne was my emo model okay. She's still a queen. The last time you had a conflict with someone else, did you confront them about it or keep it to yourself? Do you think it would have been better or worse to do the opposite? Uhhh... I don't remember who this was. When you finally make a decision to do something you have been contemplating for a while, do you become highly anxious and motivated to do it right away? Yup. When you were a kid did you make up lies about your life to make yourself seem more interesting? Alternatively, did you know kids who told these stories and did you believe them? Bitch I made up that a talking wolf came to me and gave me animal powers and the rule was I could only tell three people. I was a fucking weird kid. I know others who have made things up, too. Can you think of a moment from your childhood that was totally “on brand” for you, or consistent with your adult personality? I'm sure there's something, but nothing's coming to me rn. Have you ever warned someone else about something, whether it was about a person in their life or an oncoming weather event? Yup, in numerous scenarios. So, is it "gif" with a hard G or soft G? I say both, but "jiff" more frequently. Is there a book or movie that you thought was about something completely different from what it actually ended up being about? What did you think it would be? Maybe... Is there an item that you bought on a whim, but now consider it a crucial part of your life and you would or have purchased it again? I have no clue.

[backtothestart02]

Drabbles - Prompt 13

A/N: This one is super cute, you guys! I think you will love it! <3

*Many thanks to @valeriemperez for beta’ing. :)

PROMPT : Original timeline (if Eobard hadn't killed Nora) - Barry and Iris come home passed curfew from their first date in high school and have to face Nora Allen, Henry Allen, and Joe West. -Guest and sendtherain

Iris West was quite possibly the prettiest girl Barry Allen had ever seen.

No. Scratch that. Scratch that. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen and known and grown up with.

You haven’t grown up with any other female besides your mother, Barry. Who is also very beautiful, remember.

He frowned, frustrated by his thoughts and how there seemed to be multiple personalities attacking each other inside of his head.

The giggle sounding across from him easily snapped him out of it. He blinked and looked at the beautiful girl sitting across from him, pointing her spoon at the likely ridiculous look on his face.

“What’s that frown for, Barry Allen?” She stuck the spoon in her mouth and sucked the remaining ice cream off it. “Not having a good time?”

He was dazzled and smiling like a love-struck idiot.

“I’m having a great time,” he said, reaching across the table to take her free hand in one of his own and run his thumb over her fingers.

Her quiet gasp nearly made him panic, but when she made no effort to untangle from his grasp, he let himself relax.

“Me, too.” She smiled timidly, looking up at him beneath her lashes.

She licked her lips, lifting her thumb up to play with his too, and all he could think was oh my God, I want to kiss her.

Bzz. Bzz.

“What’s that sound?”

Bzz. Bzz.

“Barry?”

“Huh?” he asked lazily, not really paying attention.

“Barry, your phone!”

He blinked. “Wha-”

She nodded towards his pocket where the device was moving about and vibrating madly.

“Oh my God!” He released her instantly, a feeling of dread causing sweat to trickle down the back of his neck.

“Have her home by nine, Bartholomew, and not a minute later!” Mr. West had barked earlier when they had left the house.

The order had both confused and terrified him because Iris’ father had always been extremely fond of him until he found out he was taking his daughter out on a date. What was even more troubling was when he mildly complained about the early curfew time and Iris informed him that her normal curfew was eight.

It suddenly made so much sense why most of their nighttime activities were talking on the phone and their in-person hang-outs happened during the day.

“Shit, shit, shit!”

“What?” Iris demanded, slamming her hand on the table. “What does it say? Is it my dad? Is he gonna kill us?”

“Not us.” He shook his head rapidly as he looked at the message. “Me.” He turned the phone around to show her the text.

BRING MY DAUGHTER HOME, NOW.

Iris gulped.

“We better go.” She was already pulling her legs out from under the picnic table outside Big Belly Burger.

“Yeah, I think so.”

He grabbed her hand quickly after she rounded the table and they both ran as fast as they could till they made it to their bikes parked nearby and then sped to the West house.

…

Standing in front of the house on the street, fourteen-year-old Iris and fifteen-year-old Barry took a simultaneous deep breath.

“You don’t have to come in, Barry.”

He laughed nervously. “No, I think I have to.”

She turned to look at him. “My dad has a gun.”

Barry turned to look at her, eyes wide.

“He’s a cop, remember?”

Some more nervous laughter. “Right.”

She grabbed her hands and laced her fingers between his.

“I had a great time tonight, Barry. You don’t need to walk me to my door.”

He thought about his life, the possibility of being grounded, and what kind of impression he’d make on Joe West after tonight.

“No.” He nodded once. “I have to do this.”

“You’re sure.”

“I can’t keep you out late and take the coward’s way out when I bring you back, Iris.”

She smiled. “You’re no coward, Barry Allen.”

She went up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. He blushed fiercely. She tugged on his hand.

“Let’s go.”

His stride longer than hers, he quickly caught up to her. He was just about to turn and kiss her – might as well get one in – when the front door opened suddenly, and there stood a glaring Mr. West…and concerned Mr. and Mrs. Allen.

Barry dropped Iris’ hand instantly.

“Mom? Dad?”

Iris fumed beside him.

“What is going on here? A search party? We’re not even that late!”

Joe refused to look Barry in the eye.

“When your date here neglected to text me, I got worried.”

“He called us to ask if we knew where you were,” Nora intervened.

“They didn’t know either,” Joe growled.

Barry started to rethink running to his own house.

“But,” Henry interjected, “I told him you probably weren’t far since you’d taken your bikes and that we’d come over and wait with him.”

“Apparently your father thinks highly of you, Bartholomew.” Joe finally met his eyes.

Barry’s heart sank. He knew Iris was Mr. West’s number one priority, but the glaring disappointment in his eyes when he’d been so friendly for him for years stung worse than the impending grounding and talking-to he’d no doubt receive from his parents before going to bed that night.

“We were just at Big Belly Burger, Mr. West,” he said, shifting his foot against the flooring. “I’m sorry we’re late. We just lost track of time.”

Joe folded his arms against his chest.

“And how did that happen?” He narrowed his eyes.

“Because we weren’t watching our phones the whole time!” Iris snapped.

Joe’s eyes blazed as he turned to look at her. “You watch your tone, young lady.”

“We were talking!” she shot back, unthwarted. “Sitting at a picnic table, eating ice cream, holding hands.” She took Barry’s hand in her own and held them up so her father could see. “And what time is it really?”

Nora hesitated but managed to answer before the boiling Joe West.

“Ten o’clock.”

Barry paled.

Oh my God. I’m never going to get another date with her again. I won’t even be let into the house.

“That’s fifty-nine minutes past curfew, Iris Ann West,” Joe informed her.

She sighed. “Well, I’m sorry, Dad.” She looked away and lowered her hand to her side, but she absolutely refused to let go of Barry’s.

Henry cleared his throat.

“Well. Now that we know you’re both okay and haven’t been up to no good, we should…go home. Right, Barry?” He looked pointedly at his son.

Barry lifted his eyes to his father and instantly untangled his hand from Iris’.

“Right. Yes. Definitely.” He turned to Iris, started to lean in to hug her, but the glare from Joe was enough to stop even that. “Goodnight, Iris.”

He went down the steps, not looking back. Iris’ bottom lip trembled and tears filled her eyes.

“I hope you’re happy, Dad,” she spat before pushing passed her father to go up the stairs.

Henry and Nora watched the heartbroken girl dash away and their dejected son slowly make his way down the street and then looked at Joe pointedly.

“What? They broke curfew. That’s a punishable offense in this house.”

“After tonight maybe, but…” Nora let the sentence hang.

Joe connected the dots. “You’re not suggesting I actually let them kiss.”

“It is their first date,” Henry pointed out.

“Exactly,” Joe said. “Their first date. And as far as I’m concerned, their last one.”

Nora’s brows narrowed, and she folded her own arms against her.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard what I said.”

“There is nothing wrong with our boy. In fact, you loved him like your own before tonight. What’s more, you know your daughter is telling the truth, and that those two are absolutely infatuated with each other and have been for the last couple years at least.”

“Honey-” Henry tried, but it was no use.

“I’ll be damned if you refuse to let my beautiful boy take your daughter on another date just because they were a little late the first time.”

“Nora!” Henry said, shocked.

“An hour is hardly-”

“Mr. West,” Barry interjected, suddenly before them again.

Joe turned to face him. His parents remained silent.

“If it’s all right with you…” He counted to three and then took the plunge. “I’d really like to kiss your daughter goodnight.”

Nora and Henry were as blindsided as Joe. They could only turn and look at him to see how he would respond.

Maybe it was the bold choice, maybe it was the permission he was seeking, or maybe it was because Joe realized this was the same kid who came over almost every day since he and Iris were in kindergarten and that he’d hoped would one day sweep her off her feet, but his face softened.

“Iris!” he called up to her, not turning around, not looking away from the young man in front of him. “Come say goodnight to your boyfriend.”

All three individuals were as shocked as Joe that the b-word had passed by his lips, but they didn’t say a word to him. Henry and Nora walked out onto the porch and quietly told their son they’d start walking down the block and he could catch up with them. Barry nodded subtly.

Then Iris was coming down the stairs, her cheeks stained with tears. Joe left them be, walking further into the house. He held up his hand – all five fingers – signaling the sign to Barry of how long this could last. He nodded to him too.

Then Iris was in front of him and they were on the porch alone and their hands were laced together again.

“I must look like such a mess to you,” she laughed nervously, her eyes red from tears.

“Not a mess,” he assured her, and she looked up at him. “Beautiful.”

“This is a terrible end to a first date. I don’t even know if we’ll get a second.”

Her bottom lip trembled, and he didn’t think he could love her more.

“I think we will,” he said softly, starting to lean in.

“Yeah?” she whispered.

“Yeah,” he whispered back, covering her lips with his own in a single, sweet kiss.

When he pulled back there were stars in her eyes, and he grinned like the sappy, lovestruck fool he was.

“Call me tomorrow?” she asked, barely restraining herself from bouncing up on her toes.

“If I still have my phone,” he said, and then added, “Or I’ll conveniently walk by and you can wave to me from the window.”

She giggled. “Goodnight, Barry Allen.”

He smiled and kissed her again, lingering a few moments before pulling away.

“Goodnight, Iris West.”

He nearly fell down the stairs, but he managed to make it down the stairs, waving to Iris once his feet hit the sidewalk. He ran to catch up with his parents who weren’t too far ahead and had no doubt caught sight of their son’s first kiss.

It didn’t matter.

He was still grounded. His phone was taken away to prevent any late-night texting.

The landline was free game.

So was Iris’.

*Also posted on AO3 and FFnet.

[rhapsodosu]

Psychotherapy, Chapter 1

[x] Hi, so this is a fanfic that I've actually stopped writing a long time ago because my heart was broken. But! I figured I owe the IR fandom a thing because most people back then were an excellent support group, that's why I decided to continue.

This is also in FF and AO3.

Summary: "After a long day of hearing my patients' issues, I wake up and find a half-naked woman on my bed, staring at me like she had known me forever. Who is she? I don't know. All I know is she changed my life in many ways." Pairing: Ichiruki, T/M, AU

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Time is such a cruel thing,

But love is even crueler.

I may have known her for only a few days,

But she turned me to another person.

A better me.

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Hi, I am Kurosaki Ichigo, 27 years old, a psychiatrist at my own clinic. Actually, it also serves as my home—I live in this three-story structure without any other living soul but me.

Why, you think?

I also think about that sometimes. Why do I live alone? Because I want to be alone. I need to be alone. But why? You may be thinking about that again.

Let's go to my family.

First and foremost, my dad, Kurosaki Isshin, is a doctor at Karakura General Hospital. Don't get me wrong by saying this though—he's a good provider, and my childhood was good because he was goofy and (excessively) happy most of the time. I have two sisters—twins—named Yuzu and Karin, which are both living under my dad's custody as of the moment. The last thing I heard is that Yuzu's taking off with her culinary career, and Karin, in her soccer team. We were all happy together. Well, our house is always noisy and stuff (you get the picture), but we were happy.

Except that my mom had to die.

Kurosaki Masaki is the sweetest woman I have ever known. She always put us first even though it hurts her, and maybe that is the reason why we only knew she had ovarian cancer when it was already on its last stage. She kept it a secret, even from dad, just for the purpose of not being an inconvenience to any of us.

Her death wasn't an easy thing for us. Yuzu didn't stop crying for months, Karin didn't want to talk, and I didn't know what to do in order to forget that rainy night when my mom breathed her last in the hospital. Dad, although he was the most hurt, kept smiling at us and encouraged us like nothing ever happened—and that is why I hated him. Back then I cannot understand how he could still smile even though mom was gone, and I really despised him.

I even got to the point where I lost my faith in him and blamed him for everything. I promised to myself that when I graduate college, I'll live away from him, which exactly brings us back to the fact that I am living alone in this building.

Most of the time, during the days, my patients go in and out of the first floor in order to share their psychological and emotional problems with me. I am not an expert, though. I can only give some tips for improvement, but it still depends on my patients if they will follow me. Anyway, the second and third floors are my refuge.

No one has ever stepped inside of this except me, my friends, and my sisters.

The truth is, I never had a girlfriend, so it's just me here. It's by choice, though. I want to enjoy my life first before rushing into things like 'love', or 'commitment'. It's just not my kind of thing.

And then came this day, November 2, 2008, Sunday—a day I cannot seem to tear away from my mind.

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Session 1: Pwned

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After a long day of hearing my patients' issues, I fell on my bed and buried my face on my pillows. It's like this every day. Like you're carrying your own burdens, and then my patients share their problems and place more stones on my backpack.

I fall asleep really fast but when my throat itched, my eyes automatically flew open—I looked at the clock and it was already 2 a.m. Still groggy, I aimed to get up to get a swig of water downstairs, but something restrained my movements.

I blinked in the darkness and sat up.

An arm was wrapped around my waist and it trailed to the other side of the bed. I blinked again thinking that I was dreaming lucidly, but the image didn't disappear. I followed where the mystery limb lead to and instead, I was brought face-to-face with a pale face whose eyes were very much open and were gawking at me.

A scream unwillingly escaped my throat in defense. "WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK-?!"

Before I knew it, I was on my footing, clinging to the baseball bat which was always resting on my bedside. I tapped frantically on my lampshade to reveal the trespasser-but what welcomed me was a half-naked, raven-haired woman, lying on my bed and smiling expectantly as if she had known me for years.

Well… I can say I didn't see only her face. I mean, she was wearing a blue button-down with half of the top buttons open, revealing her, ah… black, lacy,sexy—undergarment. Her bottoms weren't bad either, they were matching the top, but for a second I thought they were much thinner.

Not that I was staring intently, but she didn't have any pants on. I held on my bat even tighter.

"Hey," she said coolly and waved her hand. "I didn't mean to cause a ruckus."

"Wha-Who are you? Why are you on my bed?" Acid was quickly rising in my voice. Maybe she was sent by Renji as a joke? I remember him always telling me to screw around. "If you're sent my any of my friends, just get outta here."

She chuckled and threw me a glance that annoyed me even more. "Friends? No. And why are you staring at my legs?"

The statement caught me off-guard. Heat crept up my face and my head automatically jerked on my left. I swear I specifically intended to look angry.

"Shut up! Just get off of my bed! Take some money if you wish and go, or I'll call the cops."

She shook her head. "Sheeesh. I am not a thief, bakamono. I was just borrowing your clothes."

And that explains why the blue button-down she was wearing looks highly familiar to me. Because they were mine. Damn this woman.

"And who told you to wear my clothes!"

"You were asleep, duh. I was respectful enough not to wake you." She stretched her legs on the bed, but her eyes were slightly glaring. "And be thankful that I didn't wear your pants, because I don't like pants in general."

"Ah! So it's me to blame now! You're trespassing on my home, stealing my clothes, and then complain about my fashion sense! Really, now. I should call the police!"

I went to the drawer where my phone was and started punching in the hotline when I heard her chuckle. I threw my glare upon her direction, but the unashamed woman was wearing a rather smug look on her face. I double-took her expression. Dammit, what's with that face?

"You don't have to call the police. I mean no harm."

"And why should I believe you?"

She smiled again, but a lot softer this time. Not seductively, but warm. It felt really sincere. "Just trust me. I just badly need a place to stay." She raised her hands up like in a double pledge, the purple in her eyes easily attempting to convince me further. I wasn't aware when or why it happened, but I found myself letting go of the tension in my shoulders as well as the makeshift weapon that I was holding. Something in her attitude calmed me down without even trying-and admittedly, it was half-annoying.

I sighed exasperatedly as I rubbed the bridge of my nose-she sat on the mattress and titled her head in what appeared to be curiosity and relief, maybe. "You haven't answered any of my questions properly. Or at least thank me for not whacking you in the head, you woman."

"What if I refuse to answer? I told you to trust me."

"Well you know, nobody trusts a random stranger barging in their homes, the kind that steals clothes and shares the bed."

The woman laughed yet again, and this time, she slid down to sit on the edge of the bed with her creamy, luscious legs crossed. I noticed that they were fairly long-and creamy-but at the same time she was also kinda tiny.

Is she a… whore? I thought.

"Hey, I'm not promiscuous. Not a whore." The oddly placed bang in her forehead swung left and right as she did the same motion with her head. "As I said, I just need a temporary place. I had an emergency-"

"-And what is that emergency?"

"It's a secret." A secret of course. If she wasn't a thief then probably she was a spy from the government, I thought. Who knows? They get pretty Big Brother-ish these days. I had to press on.

"Hn. And how did you get here?"

She rolled her eyes and pointed at my balcony. "Duh, I climbed. And your windows were open."

"Whoa, whoa, that's-" I blurted out of amazement. How many women could climb up three stories high, not to mention in her undies!

"Yeah, I know. I am amazing, right? I'm the first woman you know that climbs up three stories high."

"How are you sure you're the first?" She was, in fact the first, if I'm not gonna count the characters in the movies that I've been watching.

"…You're pretty transparent." She said, her eyes meeting mine. At that moment, I felt nothing but frustration. I was a psychiatrist and I should be the one studying her, but it was the other way 'round. There's this realization that no matter how much I look straight in her eyes, or how I try to simulate her gestures, I cannot fathom what she'll do and say next.

This was new to me—usually, I could tell whatever my patients are thinking in just a glance. But she was… different.

At that precise moment, I knew I was being drawn unconsciously towards this woman I barely know. In a way, it was frightening and impressive at the same time.

"Give me back my clothes."

There was a moment of silence of just staring, and that's when her hand went to my shirt and started unbuttoning the remaining buttons, showing off more of her skin.

"Alright then."

My palms slapped on my eyes in panic. "Matte-matte! Why are you stripping in front of me? Are you crazy?!"

"You're not the type to do anything nasty." I could hear her nonchalance.

Of course I could only assume what her expression, but I knew she had got rid of my shirt completely because I heard a thud and a soft thing landed at my feet.

"Hey, why are you so uptight? It's not like I am naked."

"Shut up! Put it back on!"

"Ah?How d'you know I got rid of it? You're peeking on the spaces between your fingers."

I felt steam coming out of my ears. "I am not!"

"Then you should remove those. I am telling you, I am not naked. I have my underwear inta—"

"-Just! Put it back on—"

"No, listen to me, you dummy. I am not naked." Then I heard her footsteps approaching me, and cold hands gripping mine and yanked them away from my face.

"Stop it you—what are you trying to do-" I paused to look at her, and I saw what she meant by not naked. Of course. She had my sheets covering her body. Why didn't I think of that?

"See." She crossed her arms over her chest. "I am not naked. Blankets have other uses, idiot."

My knees buckled for a moment, a thousand thoughts running through my head. Yes, I admit. I have never seen a woman in a highly provocative outfit, and the mere thought of seeing one straight in her undies is so…

Wrong?

Sexy?

Only hormones and you're imagining things?

My head suggested me. I actually picked the third one, because it's the most logical. I mean, as a psychiatrist, I know what sexual tensions mean. But that's only because this I haven't been stuck in this kind of situation after 27 long, careful years.

"Uh-huh…" I just ran out of words as I sat on the other side of the bed. I had both hands on my head, trying to figure out what was really happening. Maybe I just needed to take care of it as soon as possible. Maybe my hormones were driving me crazy.

I mean no woman wearing undies would climb up three stories high, borrow your clothes, and take your interest. No way. This stuff happened only in porn movies.

Not that I watched one.

"Gods, I never knew I am this tension-ed inside."

My eyes darted back to her direction to check if she was just a figment of my imagination. Nope. She was still there. I had the impression that she was expecting me to offer her the bed, but I was so tired to actually do anything else. The bed adjusted well under me when I collapsed on top of it, I closed my eyes and attempted to block out any other thought. I was thinking that if I ignored her, she would just go. A few moments later and the light went off and the bed slightly creaked on the other side.

"Thanks," I heard her murmur. And then something soft pressed on my forehead before I completely dozed off.

I woke up from the loud beeping noise coming from my phone. I didn't have any problems with waking up and being disoriented though—in my childhood I had to learn how to be alert once I opened my eyes because every day my pops would bust in my room and try to kill me with his butterfly kicks. Luckily I had learned something from my taekwondo classes and I had a counterattack to whatever the mad man would do to me.

After several failed attempts, I was finally able to grab my phone to turn the alarm off. In the process, I caught sight of my blankets cast down on the floor. Then it hit me.

Oh yeah, I told myself. Was it a strange dream? Sexual tension?

The blanket was back on my bed after throwing it distractedly. Thinking of a way to ease the tight feeling in my gut, I went straight to my bathroom and… well… I stripped down and turned on the tub faucet.

Good baths in the morning. I thought, slipping to my bathtub. Actually, I was thinking of a more effective way a release, but what the heck. Baths are good no matter what.

"After that, you might want to get breakfast?" A low feminine voice came from the door.

"Ah, yeah. I think that's good." I answered without thinking, before realizing what really was happening.

I jerked my head towards the door and found a raven-haired woman leaning on its post and a squeak involuntarily found its way out of my throat.

Oh shit. It wasn't a freaking dream after all. She was still in my flat.

"Y-you! H-how did you—" My hands automatically covered my crotch. "What are you doing here!"

"You're quite forgetful." She grinned and placed a hand on her hips. "And don't cover anything, I can't see it even without your hands." Then she turned her back on me and left the bathroom.

"H-hey! You fool! Where are you going?" Too late. The stranger was gone and I hear her light footsteps on the wooden staircases.

I swear I almost had my first major heart attack back there.

I found her in the kitchen (she was still wearing my shirt, and a pair of my favorite boxers to my grimace), her back leant against the marble counter. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her eyes were focused to me as I descended the stairs, and there was an expression on her face like she won some contest.

"Hey." She simply said, gesturing over the table. I was taken aback.

"Woah." My feet carried me faster than usual, the scent of maple and bacon overpowering and taking control of them. This was definitely what a guy wants early in the morning.

"Gotta admit, this is good."

"I know, I made them." She went forward and sat on a chair on the table side across me, eyes still persistent on my face. "I'm good at cooking."

And she was right. In my mouth were the most delicious bites of strawberry-maple pancakes I have ever tasted. That plus the crunchy bacon. Plus the crisp black coffee.

I nodded, but I raised a brow at her. "This doesn't change things. You still trespassed."

"I can't say I'm sorry, your place is nice. But, I just needed this for an emergency, Ichigo."

"What is your emergency, anyway?" Then I remembered another important thing that I missed on the first question. "And who are you? How d'you know my name?"

"Sheesh. I saw it on the certificates on the first floor."

"You went on my clinic?"

"Yeah. I just peeked. But I didn't steal anything." She bit on the pancake pierced by her fork, her face contorting on a thoughtful look. "Ichigo. Your name's nice. It means strawberry."

"Yeah, I mean no!" I snapped at her, dropping the bacon I was about to bite. "Why do you roam around my house without my permission. And my name, it means the one who protects!"

She rolled her eyes. "Like I said, sorry. And. I like strawberry more. Or I can call you carrot-top if you want to—"

"HELL NO! JUST ICHIGO!"

"Fine, fine, I-chi-go." She sighed and became silent for a while as we ate our breakfast.

My mind was never at peace though. She was like a big jigsaw in front of me that I have to solve without the original pattern. The only thing I know about her is that she cooks well and she looks good on my clothes. Not to mention she wasn't a bad egg to begin with.

I cleared my throat to speak. "So, for the nth time, who are you? You seem to avoid the question."

She stared at me for a moment before grinning. "I am nobody."

"Be serious."

"Geez. You're so uptight—"

"Answer me. I want to help you on whatever your emergency is."

My stomach churned when she tilted her head and leaned forward. It was the first time I was seeing her up close. Despite the paleness of her skin and the stray bang on her face… she was more than gorgeous by any standard.

"My name is Rukia." It was a half whishper. "I need a place to stay for a few days. That's all I can tell you."

I pressed on. "Why? Don't you have any relatives?"

"No." She bit her lip, slightly hesitant. "I am an orphan." She looked away and chose to look down on her hands. That gesture meant she wouldn't answer anything personal again.

"Why did you choose me though?" I found myself leaning closer to her across the table instead. "Pretty sure there are many opened windows elsewhere."

Rukia shrugged. "I don't know, I just picked this. It was a clinic to begin with. Maybe someone was charitable enough."

"And what if I was an opportunist?"

"I know you're not. Besides, I know how to fight."

I grinned at her coincidentally at the thought of someone so tiny throwing kicks and punches. "What if I am an offender and I happened to know taekwondo and aikido?"

"Well…" She started slow with an expression that I can't read, and the next thing I knew was my back was pressed against the cold hardwood floor and Rukia was pinning my body with her legs. Her hands were on the opposite sides of my head, holding my arms in restrain.

"…I know Judo." Then she leaned in and whispered in my ear, "I am the best on the mat."

Blood rushed up to my cheeks, not to mention in other parts of my body, but before I could say anything, she was up again and a few feet away from me. How did she do that so fast?

"You can't offend me."

I got up, dusting off my PJs with a scowl on my face. "Shut up. It was just a scenario."

"No, you shut up. You are so uptight. That's why you don't have a girlfriend."

I glared at her even more for being so freaking instinctive. "How do you know?"

"You always blush when I am near. You get roused when I am near."

"That's not true! I do not blush—" But warmth is creeping on my cheeks again.

"Really? Look at you."

"I am not!"

"Oh gods." She titled her head and narrowed her amethyst eyes at me like she was accusing me of something horrible. "If you're not so stuck up then come upstairs with me Ichigo and let's have some good se—"

"FINE! FINE!" I literally growled at the petite woman, but she didn't seem fazed. I sighed as I sank back to my seat.

"Fine. I do not have any girlfriend." There were a few teenage flings, but."None since birth. Can't afford it."

"Yeah, I know." There was an unashamed pat on my hand in a feigned sympathy. "Do you want me to get you one?"

"What! Get me one! Are you a pimp, Rukia?"

"No, of course not. Let's just think of it this way." She raised a finger and pressed it on her chin like she was lecturing a child. "I teach you how to get a girl in exchange of letting me stay here for a couple of days. How's that?"

"You gotta be kidding, I don't need that."

"Oh, I know you do. You need it—"

"I do not!"

"—and you know I don't have money to pay you—"

"Then get a job!"

"—and it's the only way I could repay you for letting me stay here—"

"Who said you could stay here!" I slammed a hand on the table. "I don't know you, Rukia. Why am I going to let you stay here? Give me a reason."

She became still for a while, and what I could hear is only my puff of breaths for being so pissed off. I forgot what I was angry about the next second when she touched my cheek.

"Because you are kind. That's the type of man you are, Ichigo."

Rukia then rose from her seat and proceeded to the stairs without glancing back at me. My feet were kept grounded while my eyes watching as her figure disappeared into the hallway, and my hand grazing the warm spot where her fingers were moments ago.

It was an epiphany-I realized I had been defeated.

For not being to react nor object when her skin touched mine, albeit for the shortest time.

For staring at her retreating figure with a funny feeling in my gut.

Rukia was really something.

Something I never knew I wanted, or needed.

==00==00==00==00==00==00==00==00==00==

A/N: So, how was it? I tweaked some minor things in the story that I thought were just funky when I first wrote it. Tell me how it went? : ) By the way, my mainblog is at ogenkiyuki if you guys wanna drop by. :)

[in-the-bookish-dark]

Trinity Bluffs - Chapter 1 - RL

From the small bay window at the front of my office, I could see everything worth watching on my block, which wasn’t much.  Off to the right, a couple had just come into view, in the middle of an argument.  At first, I thought he was going to slap her – right out in the open, right out in the street, just yards from the theater they’d walked out of only a moment earlier.  Then I thought maybe she was going to slap him, just barely out of the shadows of the Majestic’s marquee.  Neither of them were acting violently, no flailing of arms or even yelling, but there was a wiry, fluid tension between them.  It was a steel cable they were both tugging on, one that had been taut for years, and I had no way of telling from my vantage point how many strands had already snapped.  I usually get called into a case just before or just after the cable snaps, so I tend to keep my eyes peeled for such things.

They argued briskly with each other, like alternating gusts from a chill January wind, despite it being a particularly warm early June day in Fort Worth. The man’s arms were crossed; the woman’s were clasped together in front of her, gripping her clutch tightly.  They stood at the corner, waiting for cars that weren’t coming, waiting for the pedestrian sign to change and allow them across to the far side of Main Street.  I guessed that the same thing was restraining all their behaviors.  Maybe their respect for rules, which kept them from plunging into the street without official sanction, despite the lack of traffic, was also keeping them from plunging daggers into each other.  The crossing sign changed, but they didn’t notice immediately, being so wrapped up in their acrimony.

Aside from their tension, the view from my window was calm and quiet.  In 1875, the struggling former Army outpost picked up the nickname “Panther City” owing to a report that the town was so inert that a panther was found sleeping in the street up by the old courthouse.  Even nearly 75 years later, at least at that moment, a passing panther could easily have taken a nap in front of my building on the far south end of downtown.

It was too hot to sit in my office, waiting for nobody to walk in and nobody else to phone.  I decided to escape.  I’m versatile when it comes to that; I can be ignored anywhere, and preferably in a cooler locale.  I grabbed my hat, gave a dismissive shake of my head to my two oscillating fans.  They were fighting the good fight, but all that effectively meant was rearranging the hot, stale air and annoying the flies.  I closed my window half way, and trudged down the stifling stairs to my air-cooled backup detective office.  I knew it was air-cooled because it said so in blue, cursive letters shivering atop ice blocks on the pharmacy sign.

Back then, my office was a barely furnished second floor walkup at the front of a short hallway right above a drugstore.  The three story building was only slightly older than me, but looked and creaked like it was older than my grandfather.  The cornerstone said 1896.  I’d have believed it if it had said 1846, except for the fact that the indoor plumbing seemed mostly intentional, and not an afterthought.  At any rate, in my backup office, I can sit at the soda fountain almost directly beneath my desk and hear the phone ring through the tin ceiling.  As for visitors, unless they’re ballerinas – and I was never so lucky – they’d have been hard put to get five feet up the stairs without me hearing.  Even so, through the drugstore window, I could watch them walk right up to my door.

Bob Wills greeted me as I walked in.  He and his Texas Playboys had the Cotton Patch Blues.  Third time this week they’d come down with them.  Jerry always had the radio on WBAP, except if he was there at nights cleaning.  At night, he could pick up WGN from Chicago and listen to the Cubs play.

“Jerry – some lemonade when you have a chance – with a splash.”

Jerry leaned his broom against the marble counter delicately, as though the wooden handle might mar the stone.  After rummaging about with the lemons, sugar water and ice, and a brief dip behind the counter for a discreet splash, he slid my lemonade down the black and white marble to me.  In the weak light, mostly reflecting in off the sidewalk, my eyes couldn’t tell the color was off, but my tongue told me the truth.

“Damn, Jerry, what’s the idea of putting bourbon in this?  It tastes like horse piss.”

He shrugged and reached for my glass, but I pushed his hand back.

“Worse than abusing alcohol is wasting it, my friend.  You never know when a drought is going to come on.  Next one tequila, right?”

He bobbed his head up and down then turned to the back counter, forgetting his broom, and began wiping the soda spigots with a damp rag.  He was a good-natured kid, albeit kind of slow, and in the way that never really speeds up.  I doubt if he’d have gotten a job if his uncle hadn’t owned the drugstore.  He’d have ended up the world’s oldest paperboy, throwing the world’s oldest news.  So, his uncle gave him a job cleaning and serving sandwiches and sodas, and asked him periodically about visitors the druggist might have.  The last guy there was running a booking joint out of the shop, and he wasn’t having a repeat.  He was skittish enough renting an office to a private investigator, but I’d been fortunate, and hadn’t ever dragged any of my messes into the building.

I’d known Jerry maybe three years and for the first six months of that, any time I spoke to him, he flinched like his dad, his mom’s second husband, was about to smack him around some.  His dad has since been taken care of by people much worse to cross than me, and with better reason than me, but Jerry still flinched around fellas he didn’t know.

Swirling his rag over the back counter, he lurched to a halt, gave out with a quiet “Oh” and just froze, facing away from me.

I gave him some time, but he stayed frozen.  No wiping; no talking; no nothing.

“Jerry - what is it?”

Only then did he turn and with his eyes anywhere but my face, ask, “Uh, did he find you?”

“Tell me who, buddy.”  Thinking it might help, I shifted my eyes to the same phone pole his were latched onto.  No pressure. I waited.

Once he’d played the “who, what, where and when” again through in his head, he started up again.

“A man, a driver in a uniform and a big car come by before you got here –“

“A cop?”  I cursed myself for interrupting.  I didn’t care one way or another if the guy’s a cop.  I had no particular beef with them at the moment, or vice-versa.  I just know better – usually know better – than to mess up Jerry’s concentration when he’s trying to focus.

And then I had to wait for it while he rewound and restarted the reel …

“A man, a driver with a uniform in a big car like a chauffeur, come up this morning.  Pulled up right by your steps.  Goes up your stairs with an envelope; doesn’t even take off his gloves.  I hear him up there, but he just comes back down, which is how I know you wasn’t up there.  He comes back down and goes to drive off which is when I see he has a lady in the back seat.  She looks at me looking at her and hits the seat in front of her and he stops again.  He comes back around and stands by her window and she gives him a note.  Then he comes right up to this window and walks in.”

“He asks about you, and alls I say is I don’t know, like you said to.”  He smiled at this and I realized he was waiting for me to smile back.

I cut in with a quick “Good boy” which wound him up a bit, and for a moment, I was afraid he’d start back at “A man …” again, but after an extra beat, he went on.

“He don’t like it, but when I tell him how I’m your buddy and how you know you can trust me not to blab things, he figures maybe I’m alright.  That’s just what he says, ‘Maybe you’re alright, you and your buddy.’”  He practically glowed, repeating it.

Having someone else call us buddies got him cranked up again, so I just nodded like it was a good thing, which it was, and he went on.

“He hands me a folded piece of paper and says the missus would like Mr. Dixon to get this note.”

I gave him time to decide he’s done with the story, then asked, “That’s aces, Jerry, but where is it?”

He looked down in a panic, then slapped the pocket of his apron.  “Right here, Dix.”

Relief flooded his face like the Jennings underpass in a storm.

After another slow count, I ask if I could have it.  He flushed red and fished it from his pocket.

The half piece of cream colored stationary was engraved ELC in blue flowing script, with Mrs. John C. Conklin printed beneath in black.  It held one line of handwriting, a perfect example of the Palmer method.  “Please meet with me at my residence at your earliest convenience.”

Being only the upper half of the sheet, the note was missing its address, but everyone knew which house on Quality Hill belonged to John and Evelyn Conklin.

A meeting meant a possible job, however small, and I wasn’t about to balk.  A visit could mean anything.  Not that I had any illusions about Evelyn Lambeaux Conklin courting me behind her husband’s back.  Even if I did, those musings were more for after hours, so I shut them down as fast as they came up.

Anyway, I’d been spending too much time lately tailing dirty husbands or wives, and it was starting to leave a permanent bad taste in my mouth.  What I didn’t need was to raise my cynicism up to a new permanent plateau.  With the Conklin woman, there was a shot at a change of pace.  There was no telling what it might be, but at least there were more options out there than the same old dirt.  Maybe some domestic was pinching silver or making long distance person-to-person calls..

I checked my watch as I asked Jerry, still standing in place, “What time, Jerry?”

“Nine … no … nine-thirty.  Around there, anyways.”

Three hours.  A reasonable delay.  I’d appear ager enough for gainful employment, but not so eager as to invite being pushed around.  Especially in this business, I don’t know if first impressions can make you, but they sure as hell can break you.

I fitted my hat on my head and pocketed some mints.  Bourbon breath might pass for some of my clients, but not the Conklins.  Hell, compared to some of my clients, I’m still a kid with my knickerbockers buckled above the knees, but compared to the Conklins, I pretty rough around the edges.

I slipped off the stool and waved back as Jerry called out “See ya, Dix!”

I was half way down the block to my car when I remembered.  I turned and trudged back up to the second floor.  I stepped down the hall to the second office on the second floor and slipped my head around the half-opened door.  Alice was on the phone and fanning herself to beat the band.  I pointed down at the floor and made a driving gesture.  She nodded and waved me off.  Alice didn’t work for me, but for some decrepit insurance shill who officed next to me.  He was seldom around, so if there was nothing going on, from time to time, if she was talking to me that week, she’d run down and grab my phone if I was out.  Her pay?  Dinner now and then, with any stories I could make up about my exciting career as a detective.  Sometimes it was actual local gossip, or a slightly harrowing encounter with a poodle. Sometimes it was a story I picked from radio shows and reworked to fit Fort Worth.  It was a fair exchange.  My phone didn’t ring that often, so I didn’t have to make up that many stories.  Cute kid, but a little straight-laced for my tastes.  More important, all her cuteness aside, I was all full up on ex-wives at the time, so I was eager for things to stay calm and copacetic with Alice.

Three blocks west on 7th, I decided on one quick diversion.

I whipped right around the next block, up a few streets and around another corner and parked kissably close to a hydrant.  All the better to encourage me to keep the visit short.  ELC’s invitation was to meet with her specifically, which made me curious about her husband’s participation, primarily whether it was welcome or not.  Two minutes of reconnaissance would tell me all I needed.  I was on a nodding basis with Conklin, principal managing partner of the Worth National Bank.  He recognized me and was known to sometimes nod at me in passing.  I was known to sometimes appreciate the gesture.   A quick stop at the bank would doubtless tip me to whether he knew of his wife’s invitation.

The nods would end, however, if I simply showed up at his bank to get nodded at, so I came up with a pretext.  As the story would go, I was out yesterday evening with some research and saw what appeared to be his very recognizable town car sideswipe a parked car.  Before I went to the police, I wanted to stop by and find out whether his vehicle might have been making unauthorized visitations to Como.  In reality, I just wanted to read his body language and see if he showed any sign of impending connection.  If he knew of my meeting with his wife, he’d mention it in our encounter.  His way of staying in charge of all he surveys.  One of the ways a man like him stays a man like him.  Plus I was going out of my way to show concern for one of the gentry without costing myself too much pride.  Just a typical transaction we small businessmen make every day.  Sell a little subservience now and maybe get to sell a little business later.

Three steps up to the revolving door, and I was in the ornate lobby surrounded by marble columns topped by Corinthian capitals.  The lobby said cattle money every bit as much as the stuffed longhorn tucked away in Conklin expansive office.

“How do, Dix?” Trent, loan officer and my inside man at the bank glanced up just as the slapping-sucking sound of the door died down.

“Trent, pal, how goes it?”  I folded myself into the chair opposite his.  His feet were up on his desk; mine stayed on the floor.

“Good, if I can sell you some money.  Business has been dry and dusty the past month.”

I smiled with half my mouth, and that was all the answer he needed.

“Aww … damn, Dix, you’d think I had teats, as often as you’ve been in to milk me these days.”

“Don’t get your udders knotted up, Trent – just a quick question and I’m gone.  The old man in?”

“Conklin, Barlow, or VanTafel?

“Conklin”

“He’s been down in Austin two days now, putting lipstick on some state senator before he screws him.”  He ducked his head and glanced around, suddenly realizing how well that last comment had carried in the cavernous lobby.

“… coming back …?”

“Dunno – tomorrow, day after.  Based on the size of the stack of movie tattle rags on his secretaries’ desk, I’d have to guess he’s got at least two days to go.”

I nodded, taking the info in, watching his face as he made silent guesses.  Eventually, he gave up on silence.

“She call you?”

“Dame Conklin?”

“No, Bess Truman.”

“Might have.”

“On a case for them?”

“Her? Not yet, but that’s my guess. She doesn’t usually have me for tea.”

“Any idea what?”

“Utterly clueless.”

He studied my face, trying to see if it looked like the face of a man foolish enough to cuckold a bank partner, civic big-wheel, and prominent former Klansman.  Taking everything he knew about me – which was a lot - into account, Trent couldn’t decide one way or another, so he shook his uncertainty out of his head and moved on.

I fitted my hat to my head, then tipped the brim to him, saying “I think I just paid you back for the info.”  He might disagree, but I’d just given him something shiny to play with, which would distract himself for the rest of the afternoon.

He tried to object, but all he succeeded in vocalizing clearly was his sigh of resignation.

I waved; he harrumphed; I was out the door again.

Maggie, diligent and methodical meter maid, was still a full block away up the street.  She made me just as I spotted her, and I knew the fist she waved in the air was for me.  She told me once how she knew I was up to something – “Dix, if you’re standing upright, and not flat out on a slab in the morgue, you’re up to something.”  At the moment, all she could do was watch as I whipped out of the parking spot, abandoning my hydrant-side mooring for more adventurous seas.

My eight-cylinder carriage pulled up the circular drive to the Conklin house at 1:45.  No liveryman met me, but then, even in the Conklin’ circles, liverymen had been extinct two generations.  I half-expected a prissy and officious butler to meet me at my car and rigorously dust the commonness off of me before permitting me across the threshold.  I was disappointed, but not enormously.  Such imagination is the result of having spent too many Summer evenings inside refrigerated theaters, hiding from the heat, but simmering inside someone else’s fantasy.  A few drinks beforehand in Hell’s Half Acre didn’t hurt that imagination.

A butler did greet me once I reached the door.  No, greet is too warm a word.  I was there; he was there, and by his intervention, the door ceased to block my entry.  He, however, effectively blocked further ingress.  I stood in the foyer while he stepped into the parlor on the left to skeptically deliver my tale of having been invited.

While I waited, I glanced around the oak-encrusted foyer and thought of what I knew of the Conklins – more specifically, what I knew of Evelyn Conklin.  Her family was fairly recently arrived from New Orleans, recently being last generation.  Her father was something in the cotton trade down in the port, but ran into a bit of trouble with a combination of alcohol and someone’s husband.  The Lambeaux family moved up here post-haste while Evelyn and her mother were on a tour of France.  Evelyn mostly had her Irish mother’s looks, or at least an updated version of them. Definitely not Irish Channel Irish – Doherty or O’Connor or some such name with a little weight was her mother’s family name. Evelyn Conklin had, as best I could recall, red tresses curling down past her shoulders like smoke, grey-green eyes, pert nose and a pointed chin.  Her skin was more like Lambeaux skin, clear, but with a touch of olive from his mixed Acadian and Provencal roots.  She was a few years my junior; her husband a few my senior, and then a few more after that.  Two kids.  Boy off at military school; girl somewhere close to graduating TCU.  

He returned twelve minutes and thirty-five seconds later.  “Missus Conklin asked me to tell you to please join her in the parlor.”  Listening as he inflected the verbs left no doubt in my mind as to the social order.  He was “asked;” I was “told,” even if “please” was attached to the telling.  It was a cordial directive.

I could certainly take a cordial order on the chin if there was the soothing poultice of a job behind it somewhere.  Even on a good day, the thing a private dick sells most often is a little slice of his pride.  The results we produce are the gravy in the humble pie we eat, making it more palatable and less likely to choke us than failure and the barrel of our own hand guns.

When I breached the double doors of the parlor, her head tilted, and from over her shoulder she said, “Please, join me over here, Mr. Steele.”  Her voice was violets and gardenias with a hint of molasses and mint.  She curved her “R’s” inward, like a true daughter of New Orleans.  I stepped around the room to the horseshoe shaped cluster of armchairs and chaises in front of the hearth.

She was dead center.  She set a saucer and cup of tea in front of the chair just to her left.  Clearly, that was where I was expected to sit.  I sat, but didn’t enjoy it.  My hackles were already rising.  I have very sensitive hackles.  They do that.  At first, I perched, then decided “to hell with it” and sat back, teacup and saucer atop my knee.

Her one raised eyebrow suggested that I might have actually muttered the words aloud, rather than just thinking them.  For every job I ever won with my tactical obsequiousness, I lost three times as many with my impromptu coarseness.

I raised my eyebrows back.  I decided to let her decide on her own if I was doing so in anticipation, curiosity, or impertinence. As I waited, I couldn’t help noticing the way her neck curved down from her jaw and flowed into her shoulder.  Like a swan.  Once I let myself be aware of that, it was a very slippery slope downward.  She was neither buxom nor scrawny.  Everything about her body seemed to be moderate, save the glow she gave off.  Tough men with guns gave me fewer butterflies than I had in my stomach at that moment.  Not all of them, of course, but enough of them.

“You have to be wondering why I asked you to come.”

I nodded into her eyes, then grew very interested in the painting just over her shoulder.

“My husband – who happens to be in Austin at the moment – would never engage an investigator for this, so I feel I have to.  As a banker in our recent hard times, he found himself with many enemies, as you can well imagine.”

I nodded my head, as if that were what I was currently imagining.

She went on.

“My husband arises earlier than me, normally, and one of the things he enjoys doing before the day becomes active is strolling our grounds.  He says he enjoys the contrast between the tall buildings downtown and the natural beauty of the Trinity down the bluffs.”  A belle of the Garden District doesn’t run to conclusions, whatever the tale and whoever the audience, so I listened slowly as the story trickled out.

I flicked my eyebrows to suggest that I thought she had a point somewhere in the distance.  Perhaps a point visible from our lofty position atop the bluffs.

She continued.

“Two weeks ago, after a rain, he found tracks around the house – mud from the flower beds tracked onto the sidewalks around the house.  He mentioned them to me.  Actually, he mentioned them to me in a very accusatory fashion, if you must know.”

Clearly, she was of the opinion that I must know.  I was less certain, but at that moment, I was willing to leave the question to her.  My brow furrowed as it does when I’m working to focus on troubled words, instead of the heaving bosoms they tend to cause.

“After that morning, he had several other episodes where he felt he’d seen tracks in the dew on the lawn; mud on the sidewalk; a face peering in a window, a wrong number …”

She paused.  I stared.

“He suspected me of indiscretions.”

She paused again.  I stared some more. It’s handy sometimes, just waiting for the other person to grow bothered by the silence and try to fill it with information they hadn’t intended to share.

“He suspected ... accused … me of indiscretions that I’m innocent of.”

Interesting phrasing, I thought, wondering if he had ever suspected-accused her of indiscretions she was guilty of.  While I suspected that she indeed had some indiscretions in her portfolio, I wasn’t there to accuse her.  I might be thick, but even then I knew that much about fishing for a job.

She continued as I mulled over the possibilities.  I blew on my tea.  It wasn’t the nape of her neck, but it would do in a pinch like this.

“He wanted to put off this trip – ‘get to the bottom of things’ – he said, but there were too many appointments set up and too much riding on the trip, so he went on.”

“And?”  I asked after her next sad and soulful pause.

Her eyes flitted around the room, alighting here and there on things that needed to be cleaned or straightened.  I couldn’t help thinking that her mind was doing the same thing with her narrative.

“And … I wanted someone who could get to the bottom of this.  I don’t know if he actually saw someone, or something.  I don’t know if someone is actually a threat to us.  I don’t know if I understand what is happening.  I do know I am already quite tired of him mistrusting me.”

It still didn’t sound like a protestation of innocence to me.

“For my sake; for his sake; for our sakes, this needs to be resolved.  I don’t know anything about you, aside from acquaintances who’ve told me that you make things happen.”   Acquaintances.  She knew someone on her social level who knew someone one level down who knew someone on my level who’d heard of me.

I watched her face, waiting to see what would take its place when this expression of domestic concern and anguish grew passé.

“I want you to make things happen.”

I was sure that she did.  At the same time, I doubted everything about her story.  Nothing unusual there – it’s part of my job to doubt everything about a client’s story while pretending it’s gospel.  I’d sort things out myself once I had a retainer in my pocket.

“That’s a compelling tale you tell” I responded, without elaborating.  I also didn’t elaborate on what I felt compelled to do at the moment.

“My rates are twenty-five a day with a five day retainer to start – for work like this.”  I lied.  My rates were usually fifteen a day, and if I got a retainer, I felt blessed by the gods.  This crowd wouldn’t settle for anything that seemed underpriced, however, so I had to make it look good.  Twenty five a day and a $125 retainer looked good to me.

“I’ll find out what’s actually going on.” That was a variant on what was normally my first nod to candor when speaking with a client.  “I’ll do everything I can to bring it to a resolve that’s acceptable to you.”  My second nod.  If I can keep the client clean without running myself afoul of the law in the process, that’s my job.  If I can’t, that’s their problem.

I emphasized “acceptable to you.”  I might find out things she didn’t want found out, but as long as I was getting paid, I’d do what I legally could to work it out for her.

“So – tell me more about the comings and goings here – anyone in residence, etc.”

“We have three people on staff.  Holst tends the grounds and drives me where I need to go.”

“He’d be the fella who drove you to my establishment earlier today.”

For some reason known only to her, this statement took her slightly aback, but she nodded to the truth of it.  My eyebrows invited her to continue, and she did.

“Malcolm takes care of the house and the staff in general.  He has a room here, but also lives elsewhere.  He’s always on hand for guests and events.  Minnie came with the house.  She cooks, does laundry, and cleans.”

“Three people, only one of whom overnights here.”

“Minnie does now and then, when we have an event that runs past the last streetcar, but that’s not but about twice a month.”

“Does your daughter, young Miss Conklin, live at home?”

She shook her head.  “Not as anyone would notice.  Belinda is Chi Omega at Texas Christian, and spends most nights there.  We do keep her room, however.

“House guests, frequent visitors?”

This got a cagy smile out of her, even as she shook her head.  “No nothing of that sort, Mr. Dixon.”

“Steele”

“Pardon?”

“Steele.  Dixon Steele.”

“Of course,” she nodded.  “A good name in your profession.  Who would hire a Mortimer or a Clarence?”

“I once knew a private di~ I mean an investigator … his Christian name was Clarence.  Davenport was his last name.  Sadly, both names fit him.  He was a davenport through and through, if you take my meaning.”

“I do, Mr. Steele.  And you?”

“Me?”

“Does your name fit you … through and through?” One corner of her mouth turned up at her own cleverness.

“I like to let people make up their own minds, though I can’t say I’ve had complaints …” I wasn’t sure what I meant by that, but it gave me a little distance while allowing me to play along with my brand new client.

Here eyebrows rose slightly.  I’d say they were bemused.  She was too old for the gesture to be coquettish and too many social steps above me for it to be playful.  Or so I thought.

At the edge of a slippery slope, it was time to get back on the rails.

“The … uhh … staff.  Any issues?  Disgruntlement, unreliability, shenanigans, disloyalty?”

“They’re all quite loyal to me.”

“And Mr. Conklin?”

“He’s dreadfully loyal to me.”  There was impatience in her voice and weight to the ‘dreadfully.’  It left her mouth coated with Mississippi mud, and the corners down-turned.  Though that wasn’t the question I was asking, I noted the word choice and the tone.  The implication was unavoidable.

“What I mean is the staff and him.”

“I have a rapport with them.  With my husband out of the house as much as he is, the relationship is different.”

I waited for her to elucidate.  I waited in vain, as would often be the case with her.

Wanting to fill the hanging silence, she added, “It’s just different.  I’d never say they were disloyal to him.  Also, Mr. Steele, there are no shenanigans to speak of amongst my staff.”

I pondered a moment, tugging at the cuffs of my trousers to straighten them, then spoke.

“One of three things is going on, Miz Conklin.  The first, maybe your husband is letting his imagination embarrass him.  It wouldn’t be the first case of a man with a very attractive younger wife doing so.  The second, you’re stepping out and have gotten noticed.  Also not the first case of this happening with a man and his very attractive younger wife.”  

Her face reddened on cue, and due to no embarrassment on her part.  I’ve had innocent, rosy cheeks pulled on me by the best in town before, by some smooth operators, even though as a private dick I can usually spot them a mile off and manage them.  I continued.

“The third is that someone is actually stalking you or your house and has slipped up.  So, it’s only a matter of time before he’s dealt with.  And let’s add a fourth – someone’s playing games with you or your husband.  That’s easily the least likely, for what it’s worth.

“And what’s your current theory?”  

“I don’t have a current theory, currently.  Not about the particulars of this particular case.”

“About anyone involved in the case?”

“I’ll keep those to myself for the present, if you don’t mind.”

She started to pout, then decided to tuck it back away for later.  On and off like a light switch.

“What are the odds of any of the four, Mr. Steele?  You’ve been doing this kind of thing a while.”

“Well, I avoid these cases whenever I can, but for all the ones I’ve seen, by the time a husband or wife gets suspicious and calls me, it’s already a fact.”

“But I called you myself.”

“That you did, and it muddies the picture.  Not beyond resolution, mind you, but it gives me more to think about.  A smart chess player might call it a gambit.  A smart poker player might call it a bluff.  Do they play much of either down in New Orleans, Miz Conklin?”

“Lord, in the middle of summer, that’s about all some folks have the energy to do, Mr. Steele.   Though I dare say, I never got that good at either – too many other distractions.  Speaking of distractions, I wouldn’t like to think you’re taking my money and not attending to things at hand.  Will you be pondering me and my situation, Mr. Steele?”

“That I will, Miz Conklin.  That I will.

Then we sat there, neither of us wanting to be the one who blinked.

“And what will you be wanting from me, Mr. Steele?”

I paused too long – long enough for the corners of my mouth to curl.  She read me like a pulp magazine.

I didn’t even try to make excuses for what she was now perceiving.  The best I could do was redirect.  I squinted.  It didn’t help, but it’s what I do.

“A retainer will start me off.  I’m sure I’ll have questions.  Considering your caution about getting this taken care of without your husband’s involvement, we may need to speak at odd hours.  You might consider how best to accomplish this, before it becomes necessary.”

We both paused.  We stirred our own teas.  We peered into our cups.

“I’ll do that.”

I gave a tight smile, stood, and brushed my trousers.

“I’ll be in touch.  My girl will bring you a copy of the contract, and can take the retainer when she comes.”

She nodded.  I nodded.  That was the safest thing to do.

I left.  Also the safest thing at that point.

Contrary to my impromptu posturing, it occurred to me when I reached my car that I didn’t have “a girl” to send.  I’d come up with one.  Alice could be reasoned with, particularly if it meant even a moment’s entry into the Conklin home.  She always got a special sparkle in her eye when Quality Hill was mentioned.  I don’t think it was the money or power so much as fairy tales her mother indoctrinated her with.  Like I said, she’s a good kid, but definitely on the innocent side of my tastes.

“Same old stuff,” I moaned to myself as I flung my suit coat onto the passenger seat of my car and started around the grounds.  More who’s cheating on who or whom or whatever.  Thirty seconds out of the house and my refinement vanished like a summer shower.

There wasn’t any sign of tracked mud on the sidewalk at that point.  The help had probably vanished it the very next morning.  Lazy servants don’t find permanent positions on Quality Hill.

Tracks in the dew would be impossible to discover.  I figured maybe a couple of stops on mornings when I was actually out of bed close to sun-up would turn something up.  

I’d made one loop of the house and found myself on the north side near a recent planting of hawthorns next to the cellar doors.  I was all set to walk the fence line when a divot in the hawthorn bed caught my eye.  It wasn’t exactly a footprint.  There was an old root sticking up an inch, and from the look of it, someone had caught a heel on it and taken a tumble, maybe planting one hand in the dirt about three inches deep.  One of the hawthorns looked like it could have been disturbed, so I shook it.  The whole plant shifted left to right.  Definitely disturbed.  

I had on the shoes folks typically refer to as their church shoes.  Since church was a purely hypothetical construct for me, I call them my client shoes.  I cursed as I stopped in the middle of the shrubs for a better view.  

It was nothing a judge would pay a lick of attention to, but I was ready to bet a fiver that some peeper had taken a fall there since the last rain two weeks ago.

It was dry enough not to make a big mess, but nothing looked to be eroded, and that was a good rain we got.

As I was coming back out of the bed, I realized I was being watched.  I glanced up, and there was the lady of the house peering down at me from a second floor window.  I couldn’t quite make it out from the angle and the glint from the sun, but it seemed more like a dressing gown she was wearing, and not the peach colored dress she’d worn during our meeting.

Her face was blank.  I felt like a dull exhibit from some detective museum.  The closeted warmth from our recent encounter seemed to have entirely faded.

The only reaction I got from her was when I touched my hat to acknowledge her.  She seemed to start, looked like she was going to bolt, and then settle back as she was.

I turned away and smiled to myself, not because of her, but because I’d just caught the butler scowling at me from what might have been a library window, just under hers.  

His expression was much easier to read.  If I had a shot or two of bourbon in me, I’d have likely stormed back in and one or the other of us would’ve wiped that dark smirk off his face.  Even so, it didn’t seem like something I wasn’t quite ready to put out on the table with her yet.  I wanted a better idea of what his game was – and to make sure that it wasn’t simply a ruse of her making.  Back to the first rule: look like you’re trusting your client, but don’t be crazy enough to actually do it.