#her empty quiver is attached to her belt

[cactusprisms]

Andie, my Genshin oc insert, is me if I was a little bit cooler, and better with bow hunting. That said, falling from one world into the Abyss, fighting through said Abyss, and clawing your way into a new world is not for the faint of heart.

[mass-convergence]

Battle Scars

Summary: [pounds table] SOMA BACKSTORY. SOMA BACKSTORY. SOMA BACKSTORY.

That's really all you need to know?

AO3

Sápmi

~860 CE

She was fierce as a child, born a warrior.

She had to be.

Soma’s parents had died when she was young; victims of a plague that had torn through her siida. She lived so far north the sun barely rose at all in the winter and they hid from the lights that danced overhead in those dark, frigid nights. When the sun finally reemerged and the days warmed she would spend her time in the tundra with bow in hand.

It was on one such day in early spring that Soma found herself crouching in an alcove of trees, staring down a flock of ptarmigan that had landed on an outcropping of lichen covered rocks nearby. The birds strutted around, pecking at the dirt, blissfully unaware of the young girl and her companion crouched nearby. The trees, though they were more like glorified shrubs with how tiny they were, provided ample cover for the two as they readied their bows. 

Moments later two arrows arced through the cool air and hit their marks. The rest of the ptarmigan fled in a panicked flapping of wings as two of their own fell. Soma walked up to her quarry, a rather plump bird - the biggest one of the flock.

It wasn’t quite the game she was hoping to find that day.

Her friend, another young girl from her siida, picked up her own kill. She looked over at Soma and smiled, “Not a bad hunt for today.” 

“I was hoping to get a bear,” Soma grumbled as she tied the feet of the ptarmigan together and attached the dead bird to her belt with the two hares she had shot earlier.

Her friend snorted and rolled her eyes.

Nothing needed to be said between them: Gollá knew that Soma would never be truly satisfied with a hunt until she had taken down the largest beast on the tundra. 

And even then that might not be enough for the ambitious child.

They weren’t too far from their camp, though the goahti were out of sight behind a small ridgeline. A tendril of smoke rising from behind the hill let them know where home lay and they began to make their way back towards their temporary settlement as the sun hovered just over the western horizon. 

When Soma’s parents had died, Gollá’s family took her in and raised her as their own. The two had become like sisters: hunting, playing, and sparring together as they followed the reindeer herds with their siida. They walked back through the trees, pushing through the thick branches with Gollá leading the way. She was slightly larger in build than Soma and stood at about a hand taller. She was the perfect size to muscle her way through the underbrush while Soma followed closely behind. 

“Fuck.”

Gollá suddenly stopped, causing Soma to bump into her. Soma didn’t need to ask what was wrong because the issue became quickly apparent when a large cow moose barreled through the trees at the two. Soma dodged to the left while Gollá went right, the moose passing between them. Soma scrambled to her feet, leveling her bow at the beast and reaching for an arrow in her hip quiver. To her dismay her fingers met empty air and she risked a glance down, seeing the quiver empty and her arrows scattered on the lichenous ground. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the reason for the attack: a calf standing nearby. They must have spooked the mother and she attacked out of protectiveness for her calf. She wildly reached for the arrows that had fallen out of her quiver, trying to get at least one of them nocked and at the ready.

Her hands shook so badly with adrenaline she could barely pick up one of the shafts.

Meanwhile, the moose had turned its full wrath onto Gollá who was still struggling to get to her feet - winded from her fall. As Gollá stood, she came face to face with the wrath of the cow. She raised her own bow only to get headbutted in the chest and sent flying. 

“Gollá!” Soma yelled as her friend collapsed into a heap on the ground, bent over double as she choked and gasped for air. 

Something snapped when she saw her friend go down and her vision went red.

She bent down, with a steady hand she picked up one of the arrows that lay strewn across the ground. The moose still had its full attention on Gollá, still perceiving her as the greater threat - for now.

She nocked the arrow and took a steadying breath as the moose charged Gollá again, hooves kicking towards the stricken girl.

Gollá wheezed for breath, clutching her aching chest and staring at the moose as it approached. She tried to get up, feet slipping on the soil. Every move brought another jolt of pain to her side and she feared she had broken a rib or two. 

Of course she had much bigger issues to deal with at the current moment.

Literally.

The moose was charging her again now that it saw that she was moving still. Gollá stopped moving, cowering and trying to shield her head with her hands and arms. 

“Get away from her!”

Thunk.

Gollá heard the sound of an arrow piercing flesh and the pained wheeze of the moose as it staggered from the arrow that had hit it right in the chest. The shot didn’t take it down immediately, nothing but a shot directly to the heart would take down a moose immediately. It did however turn to face Soma who had bent down to grab another arrow from the ground.

The moose turned towards Soma and began to charge, Soma looked to the ground where the rest of her arrows lay and back up to the mortally wounded but still charging cow. With a grunt, she threw aside her bow and drew her knife. 

The moose was on her in moments; a mass of hooves, muscle, and rage. Soma managed to dodge the hooves well enough for her not to immediately get a fatal knock to the head, though she felt something slam into her chin with enough force to make the world fade out for a brief moment. 

In the chaos of the attack, she saw her opening and she slammed her knife into the moose's throat. Soma withdrew the blade, hand covered in hot blood that steamed in the cool evening air. Her grip tightened around the birchwood handle of her knife and she rammed the knife into the moose once more, this time at the junction between its still flailing front legs. 

The blade slipped between its ribs and into its heart. 

With a final groan, the moose collapsed in a heap and Soma had to roll out of the way to not get crushed by the carcass. She spent a moment trying to catch her breath after the battle, leaning on one of the trees for support. The sound of Gollá groaning in pain brought her to her friend’s side immediately, “Gollá.” 

“‘M fine,” Gollá mumbled as Soma helped her sit up, “Just … bit winded … ‘s all.” 

Soma made a disbelieving noise in the back of her throat, watching her friend clutching the left side of her chest in pain. 

“Well you did it,” Gollá said, looking at the dead moose that lay only yards away. 

“Huh?”

“Well it’s no bear … it’s bigger.”

With difficulty, Soma helped Gollá up and slung her arm over her shoulders. Together they limped back towards the camp. 

They made it back just after sunset, the two immediately being ushered into a goahti to be tended to while a few of the adults went out to the moose carcass. Soma flinched back as Gollá’s mother cleaned the wound on her aching chin. The older woman tutted, holding Soma’s head still as she inspected the deep gash. 

Time would pass.

They would follow the reindeer herds across the tundra, never staying in any one place for longer than a few months as the herds migrated.

The wound would heal and scar over, the first of many to mar her face in the years to come.

-

Wessex

~865 CE

Soma tightened her grip on her axe as she let out a fierce battle cry and leapt off the longship with the rest of the men. The moment her feet hit the rocky shore she was already moving, her axe cleaving into the throat of the first enemy she found. His blood splattered across her face as his head came nearly clean off. She barely flinched, moving onto her next target in the fray.

This was the life she had craved for when she left Sápmi all those years ago. 

As she had gotten older, she had grown restless - even with the nomadic lifestyle of the Sámi. It was the same route they took year after year, following the herds and hunting. Gollá had grown well into her role in the siida.

Soma had not.

So when Danish traders came up to their camp, bringing with them wares and tales of the great armies being raised to invade far off lands, Soma knew what she wanted to do with her life. She left with the traders a week later, carrying little more with her than the clothes on her back and the knife on her belt.

Gollá had said goodbye to her with a tearful embrace, burying her head into the crook of Soma’s neck. 

Leaving her friend, her adoptive sister was the hardest thing she ever had to do in her life thus far. They stayed in that embrace for a while before one of the traders broke up their hug with an awkward cough and stating they had to get onto the road to make good time before nightfall. With that, Soma and Gollá separated, Soma riding away with the Danes and looking back every now and then until Gollá’s form disappeared into the tundra.

Now she was in the employ of Guthrum, joining him on his raids of England. A warrior in her own right, she had impressed him when he first noticed her in battle and he had taken her under his wing. When Ragnar had died in his failed invasion of England and his sons vowed revenge, Guthrum was quick to offer his support to Ubba and Ivarr.

She spotted Ubba in the fray, he was dual wielding axes and cutting a bloody swath through the Saxon defenders in the village they had landed in. Somewhere someone had lit a house on fire, the flames quickly devouring the structure and spreading to the surrounding roofs. The inferno belched thick smoke into the air that stung at Soma’s eyes and burned her throat. She took a brief moment to swipe at the tears welling up in her eyes at the irritation the smoke caused and looked for her next target. 

A form barrelled past her, nearly knocking her over as he yelled out his own battle cry. 

“Face me and die you Saxon shit bags!”

Soma regained her balance and shot Ivarr a look as he continued his charge through the battle. The man was an absolutely lethal and nigh unstoppable force on the battlefield and she was glad he was on their side.

That didn’t stop her from butting heads with him at every strategy meeting when he started spouting shit and scoffing at any ideas that didn’t involve wholesale slaughter of the countryside. His lust for blood and battle was insatiable and as much as she’d love to bury her axe into a Saxon’s skull, she would rather not do it at the cost of half their men. 

She scanned the battlefield and her eyes locked onto one of the men on her ship, Magni, struggling to fight off a Saxon that had put him on his back foot. He was reeling back from the blows the larger warrior was raining down on his upraised shield, looking for an opening. Soma approached the two as Magni stumbled and fell onto his back. The Saxon raised his axe with a maniacal grin, ready to deliver the killing blow. He must have sensed her approach because he turned from Magni to face Soma as she charged, raising his shield at the last second to block a blow that was meant for his head. 

The Saxon stood at two heads taller than her and was built like a bear. Despite his size he was fast, blocking her blows as they came and reciprocating with his own when he could. They backed off and faced each other, breathing heavily, their shields raised.

The Saxon made his move, hooking his axe over Soma’s shield and wrenching it free from her grasp. The shield went flying and Soma moved quickly to dodge the followup attack. 

She didn’t move quickly enough.

As she quickly stepped back, she felt the blade of his axe cleave into her cheek and etch a bloody wound to her nose. The pain didn’t register immediately, she was more focused on making sure his next blow didn’t take her head off. 

“Soma!” 

She barely heard Ubba yell her name, focusing solely on the man currently threatening her life. The next blow she blocked with the haft of her axe, the force reverberating rather painfully down her arm as the hafts of their weapons met with a loud crack. 

The Saxon had made a deadly mistake thinking she was about to fall, he had left himself wide open and she intended to exploit that. She hooked her own axe onto his and pulled.

While she didn’t have quite the leverage to disarm him, she yanked with enough force to pull the man off balance. He stumbled forward and Soma sidestepped him, ending his life with a savage blow to the back of the neck. His head rolled off his shoulders and onto the muddy and bloodsoaked ground. 

She calmly picked up her shield and walked over to Magni, offering him a hand to help him up. He took it gratefully and pulled himself to his feet, “Thank you.”

He stopped when he saw Soma’s face, “Your cheek…” 

Soma certainly felt the wound now, throbbing and leaking blood down her face. She tasted the sharp, metallic tang of her own blood coating her lips as she opened her mouth to speak. However the battle was still not over and she couldn’t take time to retreat and lick her own wounds yet. Not while there were still the drengr she was fighting with risking their own lives.

“I’m fine,” she said, “It’s just a flesh wound. Come Magni, we still have a battle to win.” 

She turned around only to come face to face with Ubba and he barely suppressed his grimace at the sight of her wounded cheek, “You’re wounded Soma, fall back to the longships.” 

“I can still fight Ubba.”

Thankfully he didn’t have to argue with Soma as a minute later someone yelled, “The Saxons, they flee!”

Ubba gave her a look and crossed his arms. Soma looked back at him just as steadily before grumbling, “Fine.”

-

The salve the healer had applied to her cheek after cleaning the wound had blissfully numbed the pain. She closed her eyes and held still as the young woman stitched the gash shut. 

“That must have been quite the battle,” the woman was saying. Soma didn’t immediately notice the somewhat flirty tone the woman had taken with her but Lif, who was sitting on a neighboring cot getting a wound of his own treated, had. He looked between the healer and Soma and his lips twitched.

“You should have seen her. She fought as if she were possessed by Týr himself.”

The healer looked from Lif back to Soma, “Oh? That is impressive.”

Soma shrugged slightly, “I fought no better nor no worse than any drengr today.” 

“Oh don’t humble yourself Soma,” Lif shot back lightly, “You know you can wipe the floor with any of us save for Ubba and Ivarr.”

The healer finished stitching the wound on Soma’s cheek and applied a bandage, “You should be all set for now … I’ll want to see you every day for the next week or so to make sure the wound is healing properly.”

“Thank you,” Soma stood up to take her leave.

“And, perhaps, if you’d like to share some of your battle stories … I’d be more than happy to hear them,” the healer added with a wink.

Soma smiled politely, “Perhaps I will.”

She stepped out of the hut with Lif. He cleared his throat conspicuously as they exited, “... she seemed nice.”

“Lif…”

[araingirl]

A river of blood: Meeting before the war

The preparations for the war were going on in the bastion of Nippon which had begun even before the sun had woken up in the east. Now, the source of daylight was blistering at the center of the bright blue sky, keeping the white cotton shafts busy in roaming around it. Soldiers were carrying the sacks of crops and dry foods on their shoulders and marching. The stallions and elephants were grazing in their barns, some of them were wandering in the open meadow and a few were training with their respective masters. The combatants were practicing with their Katana, javelins, axes, bows and arrows. Hiromi, Takao, Hitoshi and others were surveilling everything going on. Everywhere, there was a heated passion to melt all the pride of the Russians like their icebergs.

The brown-haired lady was standing a little farther from the rest, near some dense shrubberies linked with the jungle. Dressed like a kunoichi, her left hand was holding a longbow and the quiver of arrows was attached to her back. Sweat was trickling down from her forehead. Still, her heartbeats were quite fast from the labor she’d experienced during the archery session of two long hours. She was looking like to keep an eye at the forest so that no intruders could enter their camp through that path. But, in reality, her assignment was to do more than it, that was also hiding from the rest of the warriors. Her eyebrows were fixed at their positions, lips were pressed and a small sigh was let out through her nostrils.

“Cheek-chee! Cheek-chee!”

Her ears twitched at the chirping of the bird. It was a signal, coming from the depth of the jungle. Glancing at the atmosphere around her once, when she found out that no one was watching her, she emptied her lungs once and refilled them. Then, very cautiously, she stepped into the bush and quickly tiptoed towards the spot from where the tweeting was made. She caught the side of a familiar redhead, waiting for her. Seeing her, he blew off, “Lady Hiromi, the time is very short. Someone wants to meet you, right now.”

“Meet…me?” Hiromi raised a brow, “Who, Yuri?”

“You yourself will be able to see,” The scarlet-haired guy huffed, “I am going outside to keep an eye. If someone suspicious comes here, I will send you the signal again.”

“Okay.” The brunette nodded. No sooner had the redhead been out of her sight than another guy took his entry here. He could easily be recognized by the brunette, with his two-toned hair; the slate bangs, covering his amethyst orbs, through which the summer wind was flurrying and the dark-indigo extension gently lying on his bullneck. Pervading the bushy leaves of the tall trees around them, the sunshine was stroking his porcelain skin. His vision was curved down, robust arms were crossed on his chest. The white scarf around his neck was sliding against the pebbly ground. The slightly bent Shashka blade was tucked in his belt, by the left side of his waist.

Hiromi’s eyes were shot wide-open as they had the view of the dual-haired Russian. Hot and unsteady breaths came out from her nose. Since she wasn’t expecting him to be there, it was obvious for her to be shocked to this extent. Her orbs glittered with moisture, she clenched her fangs and tried her best to turn away her vision from him. At the same time, a question popped in her mind: Did Kai get to know about their plans somehow? Nothing could be worse than that at that time…

“What brings you here?” Her tone was stern and direct, not portraying those one hundred emotions rummaging through her heart.

“Missed you.” His reply was also not less straight.

“Kai…” She whispered, not pretending to be an iron-lady anymore, “Come closer to me.”

“No.” Shaking his head, he refused her offer.

“Why?” Revolving to him, she frowned, “Who will stop you here, valiant warrior?”

“Nobody,” The twin-haired man scrutinized the area once, “Besides, stop calling me that. I don’t feel proud of my courage anymore.”

“How long are you going to stay here?” Now, her voice got a little softened, flinging an indirect request at her lover not to end the time so soon.

“As soon as possible.” Nevertheless, something else was roaming in the mind of the Tatar.

“For this?” The brunette couldn’t help cocking an eyebrow, “For this only, you have come here putting your life at stake?”

The Russian didn’t retort immediately. Outstretching his head, he placed his aventurines at her rubies. She could see how much tolerated pain, how many dried teardrops and how many unpronounced words which might have stopped at the tip of his tongue-were gathered in his pupils. Not speaking anything, he gradually came closer to her and pulled her into an embrace. Suddenly, in his toned biceps, the brunette felt much comfortable and easy-far away from the hectic battle strategies, the vows to create a river of blood of the enemies in the battlefield, serene and happy like an ordinary, yet, deep lover. Slowly, her petite arms bound his well-built torso in their garland; she placed an ear against his heartbeats.

“At first, I thought not to visit you,” Kai dipped his nose in her chocolate locks and received their seraphic fragrance with a heartfelt inhalation, “But couldn’t hold myself. I feared of not meeting you anymore. What if you stand in front of me and there is a river of blood between both of us? What if I get drowned in that river and become unable to open my eyes to have a single glimpse of yours for one last time?”

“You’re ruthless!” Hiromi bit her lips and snapped, “You’re freaking horrible! I don’t know you!”

“The thirst of these eyes has finally been quenched,” Kai gently released the brunette from his embrace and stepped back, “Let the angel of death come, I don’t care, I don’t fear. I have already painted your portrait in my heart. Even if my eyes get covered with blood now, that light will never get extinguished. Never.”

“Kai!” The brunette shrieked.

“Hilary…you’re my sole source of energy, my pride…” His final sentences had been uttered before he got vanished into the depth of the forest, “You are my queen.”

Shutting her eyes tightly and biting her inner lips, the chocolate-haired lady kowtowed on the ground, letting her head hang down.

 _______________________________________________________________

Will it be their last meeting? 

Second chapter of “A river of blood”, coming soon! 

[vecnawrites]

Dog tail faunus Jaune goes into heat and the only one near by is Neon Katt who is more than happy to help she just under estimated how bad his heat was and what hes packing.

Jaune panted, his tail twitching as sweat dripped down his body. He fought back the urge to whine, he wasn’t a scraggly preteen dealing with his first heat, he was an adult now, with several under his belt. He would have to get back to the dorm first, before the effects really hit him; he didn’t want a repeat of the first time he had lost control, or the last time.

He had been lucky as all hell that Saphron and Terra had wanted a baby, and were going to ask him to donate anyway. So while it was awkward to mount and rut his sister-in-law in his head, it had at least worked out for them, and was nothing more than something to laugh about now.

But even more than that, he thanked the Brothers that Velvet was such a kind and understanding girl, even being sweet enough to say she was willing to help him out again if he needed it. He had been incredibly thankful, hugging the girl tightly. He did wonder why she had such a blush on her cheeks, though. It might have been embarrassment, since they were both still naked at the time.

But that was neither here nor there at this point. Velvet was on a mission with her team and Pyrrha (who had heavily insisted, cheeks as red as her hair that he come to her for help the next time his heat flared up) was away doing some sort of sponsorship thing, leaving him alone at the moment...he shook himself again. He needed to leave, to get back to the dorms, before-!

“Heeeeyyy~!” Jaune froze as the cute cat faunus from Atlas appeared before him, her eyes sultry and looking interested, roaming over his body, her own feline tail flicking back and forth. He watched her sniff the air and lick her lips, his own powerful nose picking up a sweet, almost cloyingly so, scent. His cock throbbed as he realized it was the scent of her arousal, a sweet, tempting thing that called to him, made his libido swell, his cock throbbing and straining lewdly against the fabric of his trousers.

Before he could say anything, the orangette snagged his wrist and began walking, dragging him along with her, helped out by her roller blades...it also had the added effect of flipping her skirt up every few seconds, revealing her plump, pert cheeks of her ass, and just beneath it, flashes of pink, shining under the light, which told him not only where the wonderful smell was originating from, but that this girl was very daring, going around in a skirt that short without panties.

Hey couldn’t stop the yelp from escaping his lips as he was dragged into one of the empty ‘study dorms’ (which were meant for studying, but were more often than not used for sex. He would know, one of these were where he and Velvet ended up) and shoved towards the bed as she closed and locked the door behind her. Looking up, he was met with a blur of color which knocked him to the bed with a naked orange haired girl above him, hovering with a cheeky grin on her face.

~x~x~x~x~

Neon Katt was what one would call a party and fun loving individual. She loved nothing more than having a good time, and orgasms definitely counted as having a good time! They were the perfect way to wind down after a long, stressful day...or just to have fun and relax!

But, much like a cat, she was also quite the opportunist. She knew that the blonde beneath her held the biggest dick in the fucking school, and she had interrogated, uh she meant, had a ‘girls chat’ with the bunny faunus in the year above when she saw the weak, bow legged, limping gait the bunny had, telling anyone who knew anything that she had been fucked marvelously.

As the mortified bunny spilled her guts to Neon, the party Katt found herself drooling from both sets of lips. Hell, she was surprised that Velvet had actually been able to walk at all from how vigorous she said that he had been!

A plan quickly hatched in her mind, a genius, diabolical plan to get some loving! A cunning plan to ensure she got fucked just as heartily and well as the bunny faunus had. It wasn’t like people were lining up to share her bed in Atlas, after all.

And so far, the plan had worked perfectly! She could feel that cock pushing up against her pantiless ass (she was beyond thankful that she had forgone the garment on the way here as she had been so wet she might have ruined it, and she might do so from now on, that was so naughty~) and gazed down at her prey with a sultry look on her face.

“Well now...I can feel you’re having a bit of a problem, big boy~” she cooed, rubbing back against the thick cock still trapped within it’s bindings. She licked her lips, sure that she was going to have a wonderful time riding that beast. “Fortunately, Neon’s more than willing to help you out!”

Scooting down, Neon licked her lips hungrily as she stared at the massive bulge, her fingers curling into the fabric of her pants, pulling them and his boxers down and-

WHACK!

Her vision swam, not only from the sudden strike to her face, but the thick wave of hot musk that washed over her and drove her animal instincts wild, her pussy gushing and squirting out onto the bed, panting and huffing up the delicious musk that filled her lungs and overpowered her brain, frying her synapses. She squirmed, her nose rubbing that thick length as she slumped down and forwards, until her face was covered in an almost boiling warmth, her tail flicking back and forth wildly as the mind melting smell cloaked her lungs, imprinting itself into her nose and brain.

Her small chest pushed outwards as she inhaled as deeply as she could, pale pink nipples hard and swollen, as she refused to leave the musky warmth that enamored her so. She could stay there forever...she rubbed her face deeper into that heavy sack, her toes curling.

She was so intoxicated by Jaune’s musk, she failed the warmth going missing, her being spun around and settled onto her front, face down, ass up, the blonde gripping her hips. She did, however, take notice when the thick fat shaft she had just been shamelessly rubbing her cheeks against fell between her toned ass cheeks with a loud SLAP, the fat rod rutting a bit between her cheeks before sliding down and resting against her soaking, dripping pussy lips.

She looked back drunkenly, eyes widening as she saw the large, obscenely thick cock attached to the blonde Arc, with an even thicker, bulbous, fist-sized knot at the base, twitching with every heartbeat of the young man it was attached to. She swallowed hard. “Uh, can...can we tal-”

-SLICKT!!

Neon’s eyes crossed as Jaune’s bitch breaking fuck stick of a cock spread her pussy wide open, though thankfully, she could feel that massive knot still outside of her poor core. A strained mewling noise escaped her lips as her fingers curled into the sheets, her body trembling heavily from the myriad of sensations rushing through her body.

She felt her lover begin to move back, and her core, on reflex movement, began to squeeze down, trying to keep the heavy cock inside her body, before a loud yowl escaped her throat as Jaune decided to thrust back inside her body with a slick noise, her pussy clamping down hard around the shaft in a faux orgasm.

The pace wasn’t slow. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t loving. It was rough, primal, aggressive, outright animalistic. Neon could only release the most pitiful mewls as she was thrust into, fucked into, the bed, her tongue hanging out of her mouth, drool staining the sheets beneath her.

Plap! Plap! Plap! Plap! PlaP! PlaP! PLAP! PLAP! PLAP! PLAP! PLAP! PLAP! PLAP! PLAP!

Wet, slick noises filled the study room air, along with male and female sex musk, as Neon was fucked hard, fast, brutally into the bed, her more carnal, feline instincts loving it, her pussy flexing and clamping down on the invader in constant, wet and messy orgasm.

Pap! Pap! Pap! Teal green eyes widened as Neon felt that fat knot prodding insistently at her pussy lips with every thrust now, feeling the cock within her twitching and throbbing in warning of what was to come. Gathering every bit of strength she could in her panic, Neon raised her head up. “W-wai-!”

POP!

“NNNNNNNNNN!!!” Neon’s pupils shrunk to pinpricks, before rolling up in her head as her entire body went stiff, her tail sticking straight out like a ramrod as Jaune’s knot found its way into her unprepared pussy, locking her and the blonde together, hip to ass, the tip of his cock pressed flush against her cervix.

“nnnnnnn♥~” she whined out as her blonde lover began to rut into her body again, his big strong hands moving from her hips and down to her butt, fingers sinking into the muscle as he delivered shorter, but far more powerful and intense thrusts, his tip smacking into her cervix over and over.

Fingers and toes curled into the sheets, nearly tearing them outright as Neon lost herself to the brutally intense fucking, her pussy clamping down and squeezing tightly as she squirted, reaching her most powerful orgasm yet.

She slumped to the bed, boneless and body quaking as Jaune continued to slam into her over and over and over again, his thick cock throbbing and twitching mightily deep within her, signifying that his own orgasm was imminent. Neon knew, she just knew, that the moment he came she would never be the same afterwards! Her eyes widened as she felt a powerful throb within her, followed by incredible warmth filling her belly. Her toes curled.

“Nyaaaaaaaa♥~!” she cried out, hearts in her eyes as she fell face first to the bed and quivering as she felt strong, thick spurts of warm cum filling her belly, shooting into her welcoming womb. She blissfully passed out, purring deeply, and an overjoyed expression on her face.

Huffing, Jaune slumped over Neon’s body, slowly rutting his hips as his balls steadily drained into her warm and velvety pussy. Carefully gathering the unconscious girl into his arms and turning onto their sides, Jaune tucked the unconscious cat Faunus against his front, he settled and let himself relax, letting the dopamine and serotonin from his continuous orgasm wash over him, his hand gently rubbing over his sleeping partner’s slowly swelling belly.

He closed his eyes, hoping that when both of them woke later, she would feel up to another round before separating. Burying his nose into her hair, he allowed himself to drift off, happy and content.

[kurinoot]

care less more

-> his visits are short and are punctuated by the hectic and taciturn. the only thing the budding musician can associate about you is a rebound and the cold, disheveled sheets, and he plans to keep it exactly that way.

pairing: semi x reader

themes and warnings: smut, angst-ish woohoo, cheating, mentions of rough sex, dacryphilia, fingering if u squint

wc: 1.5k

notes: another wip posted woot woot so this piece is my submission for the church of meian’s songfic-themed tune june collab! this song is heavily inspired by olivia o’ brien’s song entitled ‘care less more’ and I HIGHLY suggest that you play it while reading mwehehe. also, thank you so much to @chibi-chanforever, @latrombone​, @oneblonded​​, and @spacesevyn​ for beta-ing this baby! also, take note that the ones in quoted bold italic are some of the lyrics in the song!

chant: care less more by olivia o’ brien

 The distilled moans and wet sounds of skin slapping against skin reverberate throughout the room in a hasty fashion.

“You receive me so well—ugh” you hear Semi groan as his hips continue ramming into your wet, gummy walls, hands clenching at the crumpled sheets and face scrunching at the growing tight sensation welling up against his pistoning cock. Moans effortlessly and wantonly fall out of your lips and fill his ears like a crisp staccato of notes.

He slams his lips against your quivering ones, muffling any possible sounds as he continues to hit your sweet spots. “Oi, you better keep it down low if we don’t want to be found out.” he growls lowly against your lips before pulling at your bottom lip with his teeth.

It has been months ever since he has begun this rendezvous with you, punctuated by crumpled sheets, unregistered phone numbers, and desperate love making.

Except, there’s no love and no strings attached.

You nod at his bequest, trying to ease and soothe yourself at the incessant onslaught of his cock jamming into your core. You run your fingers against his broad chest, instantly clutching them on the expanse of his broad shoulders brimming with sweat as he continues his intense jutting of his hips against yours.

“S-So good, Eita—”

“We don’t use first names here—ngh—I thought—hng—we made it clear last time.”

“I-I’m sorry—ah!”

His hips sharply stutter against you, going harder and harsher at the prospect of his first name ringing against his eardrums. His muscles become more tense, hands tightly gripping your waist as he accepts your half-hearted apology with a rough snap of his hips. It’s no use to him when he knows that you’ll still cry out at his ministrations, so what’s the point?

Might as well fuck you rough anyway while he still has the time.

His breathing becomes more labored and the sweat in his body began falling like droplets of rain. It is no different for you, eyes welling up with more tears and moans slipping out of your sinful mouth ever so carelessly at the rough feel of his dick ramming inside you.

“S-Semi, I—” you choke on your words as his fluttering pace leaves your senses culminating in intense, hot flashes of white.

“Are you going to cum?”

Your muscles and throat tense at the sudden question right while he’s hot-headedly thrusting into the throes of the wet ring of your walls. He has you all whining, toes curling, and creaming beyond comprehension, sweat-riddled fingers digging themselves further into the threshold of his muscle-clad arms.

“Cum for me.”

“You look at me, you see her face. No, you don't like me; I'm just there to hold her place”

Tears have long since stained your face, mixing with eyeliner and mascara to form emotion-riddled trails streaking down your face, which seep into the pillows underneath you, painting you into an inkblot masterpiece

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he groans, sharp pupils burning as they fall upon your wide, quivering ones. You’re not stupid; you understand the intentions behind his words, eagerly nodding at his comment.

You mean her? you reply knowingly in the back of your head and accentuating ‘her’ all intentionally, knowing that you’re just a look-alike that he’d willingly fuck in place of his complacent girlfriend. But you shrug it all off because as much as you hate being a placeholder, you can’t help but be content to have this clandestine rendezvous with him. Nevertheless, butterflies violently rattle against your insides at his double-edged words.

“Hope I distract you enough from the girl that you love 'cause I've been doing the same, you're just a boy that I 'ah'”

You’re not clueless to know and understand that he will never see you in a spotlight beyond the platonic boundary, if you can even call this relationship a platonic one. Sure, you already knew what you were getting yourself into, but the sting and longing in your heart only grows more and more as he continues to use you as nothing but a hole to fuck with when he’s bored and unsatisfied with the woman that he treasures and claims is all his.

You can then feel the tips of his fingers as they explore along the side of your waist and then dig further into the deep recesses of your cunt, adding fuel to the fire as he strums and presses along the swollen nub of your bundle of nerves while he continues to push his dick into you.

“Please, please, please,” you whine in desperation, followed by strings of incoherent babbles as your calves tense and clench, ensnaring his hips tighter and closer into yours and probing his cock to inch way deeper into unexplored territory than last time.

Call reality a bitch whenever you want, but this is miles better than only being another fan lost in the sprawling ocean of other fans.

You can’t have him as your other half? Be a VIP Semi Eita cockwarmer then.

Poor girlfriend having no knowledge that he’s drilling another hole besides hers, you lament in your thoughts as he continues drilling into your wet cavern.

“So close!”

He further cements his grip on you, calloused and nimble fingers letting go of your clit as his hips snap erratically, feeling the growing crest of the wave inching him closer to nirvana.

“G-Gonna fucking cum—holy fuck—cumming!” you scream out, the growing wave of your climax nearing its zenith.

“Good. Then fucking do it.”

With the last snap of his hips finally probing your deepest spots, your fingers dig into his steady arms right as he stutters his hips, plunging into you a few more times before you feel the warmth of his cum bleeding through the latex. A stifled, guttural groan twitches out of his throat, with knuckles turning white as his hands clench the sheets tightly from the climax bursting out of the seams of his groin. You break right at his clutch, gushing right against his twitching cock as your entire being becomes sore and flaring in heat afterwards.

Labored breathing and panting envelops the entire room, the smell of sex and sweat emanating from both of you altogether as his head dips right in the crook of your neck in exhaustion. His breath tickling against your sweat-matted skin only leaves you trembling more as your toes curl and your fingers numbly grasp the sheets tightly, hushed whimpers leaving your sore, dry lips.

He stills in for a couple of minutes, hips still stuttering to let his climax subside bit by bit while he tries to regain some energy before he pulls out of your warmth. Your cum continues to gush out of your pussy, the wet ring of muscle still twitching at the loss of contact.

“Why you wasting all of your time laying next to me? If you really wanted it so bad it's where you'd be”

“This never happened.”

His voice, albeit tired, says it firmly, his words empty and emotionless, like he always does after every meeting that you have with him. You wearily nod at his words, uttering a cold “Of course. No biggie,” right before you let yourself drown in the comfort of the thick pillow lying beneath your head and the thin sheets enveloping your body. 

Of course you know very well how this entire rendezvous can overthrow his career as a musician if you’re not careful enough. Heck, his entire career and image will be in shambles once even a single speck of mistake exposes him and his illicit affairs with you.

He rests for a couple more minutes, breathing slowly steadying back to normal before you hear him ruffle through the sheets. Your head’s all buried in the comfort of the make-up stained pillow, but you can ascertain that he’s already preparing to leave, judging by the sound of his belt clicking back and the once heap of clothes finding its way back to his tall, unabashed figure.

“Why you wasting all of your time busy texting me? If you don't want what's best for me”

The familiar ringtone of your phone beside you flashes right before your eyes. Your hand flimsily picks up your phone just as you hear the door open and close subsequently with considerable force as you read the message softly.

Semi <3: I’ll text you the next schedule :) and try to be less noisy next time.

You can only laugh dryly at his usual message, the growing crack in your heart only reverberating further as you choke at the oncoming onslaught of tears running through your face once again, but for an entirely different reason. Your chest heaves heavily, breathing in mouthfuls of air in an attempt to calm yourself down.

You swallow the lump in your throat, more tears inching away from your swollen, make-up stained eyes as you realize that you willingly let him into your personal life and then realize further that he’s way beyond bone-deep in you. You reluctantly open his message, numb fingers typing a reply trying to ease the hole in your heart.

You: okay :)

As soon as your thumb hits send, your hand languidly places the phone right back beneath your pillow as your tears finally broke through the dilapidated state of your emotions

You could care less but it was already obvious that you care a lot more than what is expected as you cry out every bit of frustrations into the cold, love-devoid sheets.

taglist (answer this form if you want to be included!): @hqintheclub​ @kinsurou @rosesandtoshi @anime-nymph​ @hogwarts--imagines​ @semisgroupie​ @kurosukii​ @bunbyy​ @wisenerdcreator​ @hismilkbread​ @bucinhajime​​

✖ tune june collab mlist ✖ church of meian collab mlist ✖ my potion rack mlist ✖

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

By the king’s hand 🐍 X

Warnings: noncon/rape, forced oral, violence, mentions of pregnancy and miscarriage.

This is dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You find yourself in a new prison.

Note: In advance, sorry. Guess that’s all I can say hahaha.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Your shoulders ached as your weight tugged at your muscles. A folded length of ribbon was tied around your eyes and your hands were bound above you. You dangled on your tiptoes in the chill cellar. Your gown was little protection from the late autumn air that permeated the underground. Your teeth chattered and you shivered ever now and then.

How long had it been since you’d been left there? Magnus had been gruff and silent as he dragged you down the steps, nearly tossing you down them. He shrouded your vision almost at once and shackled your wrist with a warning that he would break your fingers. You thrashed out at him blindly as he secured you to the hook above; like a pig awaiting the butcher.

The door slammed and a heavy locked churned, signaling your desolation. You screamed at first, until you were breathless and hoarse. None arrived to save you from the trap. Silent, you hung weakly and nodded off for only a few minutes before you were roused by the thought of your reality. 

You felt as if you would cry but sniffed it back. You wriggled in the thick metal cuffs and kicked out as you tried to free yourself. That didn’t work either and the hours passed in helpless paralysis or frantic writhing. You felt death in the cold air of the chamber.

When at last the rusted hinges shrieked, you raised your head cluelessly and tried to see through the cloth at your eyes. Heavy footsteps entered the cellar and you counted two pairs as they shut the door in their stead. 

Had Magnus brought Loki to you? Would the king dole out another punishment to you for a crime not your own?

It was quiet, tense, as the footfalls paced around you. You gripped the chain that held the cuffs together and sensed a warmth before you. A large, thick hand framed your chin and turned your head back and forth. A dark chuckle made you gasp.

“Was it very hard to catch her?” Thor asked as he squeezed painfully and tilted your head up.

“Fish in a barrel,” Magnus replied. “The challenge was going unseen.”

“Oh, yes, my brother is rather upset,” Thor pulled down the strip of fabric to fall around your neck. “And how could he not be.” He ran his thumb along your bottom lip, “Without his little pet?”

“Why?” You quivered as you tried to shake him away. “Why are you doing this?”

You were shocked by the strike across your cheek. Your head spun and you turned at the end of your restraints before the prince righted you and brought you to face him again.

“I have no reason or obligation to explain myself to a peasant,” he sneered, “But you can assume that I have the same needs as any man. As the king himself.”

You hung your head as metallic blood gathered at the corner of your mouth. Your cheek throbbed as you tasted iron. Thor forced your head up again and admired the way your lip already began to swell.

“Did you do anything to her?” Thor asked.

“Not yet,” Magnus snickered. “Can’t say I wasn’t tempted.”

“Good,” The prince released you and untied his cloak. The scarlet cloth fluttered to the floor. “And you say he took her from the dungeons?”

“Put her there first,” Magnus replied flatly. “She never knows when to shut her mouth.”

“Mmm,” Thor hummed and reached to unsheath a blade from his belt, “Among her other charms, I’m certain.”

He slid the knife beneath the top of your dress and tore it through the satin easily. Your bodice fell open as he sliced through the skirts. The gown unveiled your nudity as he stood back and nudged you so that you spun from your shackles. He grasped the loose fabric and cut it entirely away from your body, letting it fall in shreds atop his cloak.

You pulled at the cuffs and grunted as you kicked at the stone floor. A wave of panic mingled with your anger. “You can’t--” You were silenced by another smack, this one across your ass.

“I could gag her. Or break her teeth?” Magnus offered.

“You will do as I bid,” Thor rebuffed, “I’ll have my fun first.”

He turned you to face him again. He took your head between his hands and rubbed your temples cloyingly. He dipped his thumb down to your mouth and pushed it inside. You bit him and he hissed. He curled his thumb beneath your tongue and sent a pang through your whole body.

“No biting,” he snarled, “Or I will do worse to you.” He warned. “Use that mouth wisely, pet.”

You glared at him but did not try again to bite him. You were terrified truly. The two men could kill you easily and you had little faith that they would not when all was at an end. Your mortal cowardice stilled you and had you prone to the prince’s will.

“Let her down to her knees,” Thor ordered as he let go of you and took a step back. 

He picked at the top of his breeches as Magnus moved to the pully which held taught the rope attached to the hook above. He turned it and Thor grabbed your shoulders. He pushed down until you were on your knees, your hands still held over you.

“Alright, pet,” he purred, “You may pretend I am your king, if you prefer, but I promise you will know it is me.”

He pushed open his trousers and reached inside. He pulled his member out and stroked himself until he was hard. You looked away as Magnus’ shadow caught your eye. The guard watched without emotion. You closed your eyes as the prince came closer.

He pressed his tip to your lips. You held your mouth closed at first. He growled, a low wordless threat, and you parted your lips. He slid inside, just a little and groaned. He caressed your head and his fingers stretched across the back of it. He urged his cock deeper and prodded at the back of your throat.

Your eyes watered as you tried to steady your breath. He forced himself deeper and sank down until no air could pass his girth. He held himself there and wiggled his hips. Your neck strained and he retreated slowly before thrusting down your throat once more. His voice was smoky as he rocked against you.

“Mmmm, fuck.” He swore, “How long it has been.”

Your mouth made sloppy noises around him as he sped up with each tilt. Your head pulsed as you struggled to catch your breath. Your eyes streamed and rolled back as spit leaked out around your lips. You shuddered in disgust as he used you, his grunts and groans feeding your derision.

“You ready to taste me, pet?” He snarled, “Be a good pet and drink me up.”

He hammered into you even harder, your throat raw and ragged as he did not relent. He turned your head up as he plunged into you over and over. His voice bounced off the walls and a tremor rippled through his body as he came. The heat of his seed flood your throat and mouth around his thick cock and he slowed a little at a time until he was still.

He pulled out of you and quickly forced your mouth shut. He covered your mouth with his hand as his other spread over your neck. He bent over until his nose met yours and you opened your eyes.

“Swallow,” he hissed.

You obeyed and withheld a wretch. He smirked and stood straight. He sighed and lifted you to your feet. He rounded you and pushed on your shoulders until you bent. He gripped your hips and pulled you back. His wet cock rested against your ass as it twitched.

“Just a minute,” he rasped as he rubbed your bottom with one hand. You kept your eyes on the floor as your arms were bent awkward around your head.

He slid two fingers along your thigh and felt around your folds. He tutted as he felt how wet you were. You shook your head, ashamed of your body’s deceit. He circled your entrance and pushed into you, stretching you around his thick fingers.

“You’re fucking tight,” he said, “Is my brother not using you enough?” He pulled his fingers in and out of you, “You sure do feel as if you are wanting, pet.”

He fucked you with his fingers and his heady breaths sent tingles across your flesh. When he withdrew his digits, he spread your folds and guided his cock to your entrance. He slid between his fingers, carefully, and pushed his tip inside. You tensed around him and he groaned. He retracted his hand and grasped your hip, impaling you in a single motion and jolting you entirely.

“Shit,” he croaked, “Oh, pet, you are delightful.” He moved you against him as your walls clenched around his thick cock, “You fit me so well.”

He rocked your body against his and had you back on your tiptoes as you struggled not to topple. If you did, you would only wrench your shoulders and injure yourself. He grabbed your shoulder as he rutted you and brought his other hand around your neck to force your head up.

“Use her mouth,” he demanded. You looked away as Magnus neared at the prince’s order. “Be a good pet,” he squeezed your chin and you opened your mouth weakly.

You closed your eyes as Magnus fumbled with his belt and you quaked around Thor’s intrusion. Thor’s hand snaked down to your other shoulder and Magnus replaced his along your jaw. He slid into you without warning and filled your throat painfully. His other hand went to the back of your head and he bobbed you up and down his length.

“Yeah, like that,” Thor uttered, “My brother is so selfish not to share you.”

You twined your fingers together as the men moved you between them. As Thor slid your cunt up and down his cock, Magnus did the same to your mouth. The two men rutted into you until only the clapping of their flesh and their grunts could be heard. Your own thoughts were scrambled as you only prayed for it to be over.

Thor sped up and hammered into you. You choked on Magnus as you were forced closer to him and the prince mewled as he emptied inside of you. He slowed and still but did not pull out, instead guiding your head.

Magnus growled and you felt him quake. He muffled his voice as he spilled into you and you tasted his salty seed as it bubbled around his cock. He pulled out of you roughly and his cum leaked from your lips as Thor kept you against him, still buried deep in your cunt. He jerked his hips and you whimpered, coughing up more spit and seed onto the stone.

He slid out of you carefully and you felt his cum leak out as he did. He slapped your ass and you fell to your knees. The prince moved around you, a shadow beyond your haze, and you felt a tug above you. He wound the gears until you were on your feet again, your soles nearly off the stone.

“Fuck her,” Thor commanded.

Magnus turned you to him and lifted your leg. He reached to your cunt and pushed his hand roughly against you. He stopped and looked to the prince. “Can I have her ass?”

“No, not yet,” Thor snipped as he tucked his cock in his trousers only to rub himself through them. 

Magnus huffed and his nostrils flared. He lined himself up with your entrance and took you off the floor as he plunged into. He brought your other leg up, hooking his arms beneath your knees as he tilted into you. You hung your head back as you were held aloft by the shackles. He bounced you against him without restraint; every thrust harder than the last.

“You fucking little bitch,” his voice was low as it rumbled through you, “This is what you want. What you always wanted.”

You whined and your thighs trembled as you tried to resist the heat that bloomed in your core. You bit your lip as his pelvis rubbed against your clit and he slammed into you over and over. Your tears fell freely, almost without notice, and you squealed as you were overcome with pleasure. You bent your legs around his thick arms and came around his cock.

He grunted louder with each thrust into you. He worked your body against his and let one of your legs fall loose as he gripped your neck. He choked you as he lost himself in his lust. You heard Thor too, his breath shallow and shuddery.

Magnus climaxed with a snort and held himself deep inside you. He lifted you from his cock and left you to dangle again. Your thigh grew slick with cum as you hung helpless, awaiting their next move with dread. You whimpered at the tenderness between your legs and in your throat.

“You still there, pet?” Thor snapped his fingers in front of your face as he fondled your tit. “Come on, we’ve only just begun.”

🐍

You were numb. If life with Loki was harsh, your existence in the hands of Magnus and Thor was the worst hell one could know. You languished in the dank cellar when they were away with only the frightful anticipation of their return. Those times you did manage to sleep were little relief as your nightmares were haunted by the same men who controlled your reality.

There were hours, maybe days, when you were left alone. You had no way to keep track and you suspected your guess wasn’t very close. You were let down every now and then to relieve yourself or to eat the meagre meals provided by your captors. The stew that turned your stomach and tasted worse than the bile always rising in your throat.

You could barely recall what came before. Your life in the city, your time in the dungeon, your months spent in the king’s chambers. It was as if none of it had happened and this had always been your lot.

When you did think of Loki, you were foolish enough to miss him. Was it any better than this? You remembered him using you too; remembered his cruel green eyes and his restless hands. And yet, it was all just a blur to your addled mind.

You cried often but tried not to when they were there. When they were there, they used you. You lived on their will, you served your purpose and were easily tossed aside like a doll. Your body was not your own; had it ever been?

The pain was unending. It surged through every part of you; your muscles, your bones, your very soul. There was no way out. You would die in this place, at the hands of these men. You would be forgotten to this grim cellar, just another casualty of aristocratic greed.

You were half-asleep when the door woke you. You hated that noise; dreaded it more than anything. You didn’t look up; you didn’t need to; couldn’t bring yourself to. The men’s faces were etched into your mind; they were all you saw, waking or otherwise.

A shadow loomed over you. You felt a warm hand on your chin and your head was lifted. Thor stared at you and turned your head back and forth. 

“Pet,” he rubbed your cheek, “Can you hear me?”

You nodded dumbly and he smiled. Your vision cleared and his features came into focus.

“Get her down,” he gently released your chin, “Sit her down and get her a blanket.”

Your arms fell before you, still held together by the shackles. You were moved to sit on a stool and a musty wool blanket was thrown around you. Thor sat on another stool as Magnus paced behind him.

“Do you know how long you’ve been here?” He asked.

You shook your head and hugged the blanket around you. You shivered. “Forever,” you whispered.

He laughed and reached to rest his hand on your knee. “What is it, Mag? A month, now.”

“Just over,” the other man assured. 

“And after all this time, the king continues his search,” Thor said mockingly, “Not realising you are right beneath his very nose. Beneath his own brother.” He laughed loudly and smacked your knee before he drew away. “But Loki is not that stupid. He will catch on. We must move you.”

“No,” you rocked and kept your head down, “Kill me.”

“What?” Thor sputtered and it was Magnus’ turn to laugh. “Pet, what use are you then?”

You raised your head and blinked. You looked between the men and your eyes stung. How awful they were. You had never thought any could be so vile.

“Please,” you begged, “Just do it.”

“You are confused.” Thor said, “You don’t seem so unhappy when I’m inside you.”

You recoiled in revulsion and lowered your head again. Your stomach ached and you felt sick. Your nausea had grown worse with each day. You didn’t know if it was the rancid stew they fed you or the unyielding anxiety. You rubbed your stomach; it was firm and warm beneath your hand. You were surprised by how full it felt at your touch.

Thor’s eyes went to the movement beneath the blanket and you peeked up at him. He nodded and for once, his blue eyes were serious. He stood and grabbed your elbows to bring you up to your feet. He pushed the blanket open and you flinched. He touched your hand.

“Have you not looked at yourself?” He asked.

“What?” You breathed.

He slid his hand beneath yours and pushed his rough palm to your stomach. You looked down and bit down at the sight of your body. There was a subtle roundness to your middle not there before. Your breasts were swollen too and tender as the edge of the blanket tickled them.

“You’re with child, pet,” he said glumly.

You gaped up at him in shock. You shoved him away and covered yourself. The chain between your shackles jingled as you turned and hid your face. “No, I cannot…”

“It is neither of ours,” he said firmly, “You are further along than that.”

“Then…” you gasped, “Then why keep me?”

“I’ll find a place for the bastard. I cannot say my brother would do the same.” Thor said. “And you are still early, you are still…”

“Capable,” Magnus intoned. “If we’re lucky, we can fuck the child out of you.”

“Don’t be so crass,” Thor reproached. “Pet,” he neared and touched your shoulder, “If we move you, and you promise to behave, then we will settle you somewhere comfortable. For you, for the baby, until your time comes.”

“And after?” You kept your back to him and shrugged away his hand. “What am I to do with a child?”

“You wouldn’t be able to-- A royal bastard… must be hidden. You cannot stay with the babe. It would be dangerous for both of you.”

“Dangerous?” You spun to him, “For me or you? You only want to keep me hidden from your brother. To keep me to yourself and for what reason? You’ve a wife, a child? Was she not due already?”

He scowled and crossed his arms as he backed away. “Now, pet, you must understand--”

“A child would ruin me. You wouldn’t want me after so why--”

“Because I am a prince and I can do as I wish,” he hissed. “Now, I am giving you a choice, and let me tell you, I do not do so often so I can move you somewhere where you and your child will be healthy or I can keep you in another cell and fuck you until you are bleeding.”

You reeled at his tone. Your stomach churned again and you groaned. A child? It was too much to think of, but to be kept as you were? That was unbearable. If it was only your own life, it would be an easy choice, but it wasn’t just you anymore.

“I’m…” you sat before you could collapse. You hunched and hugged your stomach with one arm. “I’m sorry.” You looked up at him, “I’ll be good.” You swore and bent over. “I’ll--” You wretched onto the floor and your entire body convulsed. “I’m scared.” You admitted as you stared down at your vomit.

“Good,” Thor taunted, “You should be.”

[aadmelioraa]

CAN I ASK FOR BOTH 1 AND 2 WITH ALDFLAED PLS IM BEGGING

YES YOU CAN!! 1 + 2 being: a conversation you wish had happened in canon + expression of love.

This turned into a whole thing, whoops.

Read below, or on ao3.

Hope (Aethelflaed x Aldhelm, rated T, 1.5k)

When finally she sees Aldhelm again it does her heart good. Despite her insistence to the contrary, the thought that he may have succumbed to his injury crosses Aethelflaed’s mind more than once in the weeks that pass between their meetings.

He’s speaking with one of the guard at the other side of the courtyard and when his eyes flick towards her briefly a restrained smile flits across his face.

She walks towards him at a leisurely pace, waiting for the other man to take his leave before she approaches too close.

He greets her with a bow of his head, bending at the waist by force of habit and grimacing slightly as he does.

“Please do not trouble yourself,” she says, laying a hand on his arm without thinking. He stands as if turned to stone, and she pulls her hand away, heart racing. Despite their exposure, something about this encounter feels even more intimate than their last. She had not expected that.

“Lady. Your victory was well-told.” Aldhelm’s voice is warm, though his eyes remain as shrewd as ever.

“You are looking nearly healed,” she says, no interest in discussing matters of war for now. “I am glad of it.”

His eyes are fixed on her as he replies, “I have recovered, thanks to you.”

“I could not very well have let you bleed to death on my floor,” she chides gently. “If you had wanted to meet your end, you ought to have gone elsewhere.”

He huffs a laugh, followed by another painful grimace, but this time she refrains from reaching out.

“Your husband is within,” he says, glancing towards the palace.

Aethelflaed frowns. “Why have you returned, Aldhelm? Do you not fear he may strike again?”

And as he meets her eyes, she knows the answer, and it sends a familiar quiver through her the way his confession had those weeks ago.

He’s returned for her. Out of duty to her, and to Mercia—they are one and the same to him. It is equal parts calculated and reckless to slink back to the side of the man who’d tried to kill him—who’d tried to kill them both. But she was here, and so was he, and their reasons were not so dissimilar.

“I will happily leave if you have an errand for me,” he says, a hint of levity entering his tone. “But otherwise, my place is here.”

“I have no errand for you,” she replies, narrowing her eyes as she shakes her head. “My only orders were to stay alive, and so far you have not failed me.”

A smile pulls at the corner of his mouth again, this time he barely fights it. “If you are pleased, then so am I.”

She sweeps by him with one last glance as she says, “I must greet my husband. I am sure he will be as happy to see me alive as he was to see you.”

And though his face is gone from view, she can see his gentle smile deepen clearly in her mind’s eye.

***

Aldhelm retires that evening well after the rest of the household has gone to bed. He had hoped to catch one more glance of Aethelflaed as he sat by the fire, but she had vanished some time ago.

When he reaches his room something stays his hand at the door. It is closed, as he’d left it, but his years of soldiering had made him attuned to any small changes in his surroundings, and it has saved his life too many times for him to second-guess his instincts.

He draws his weapon and pushes the door open gingerly. He had been right. The room is not empty.

Aethelflaed sits on the edge of his bed mending a tunic—his tunic—and looking so at ease he nearly questions whether by some trick he’d arrived in her room instead of his own.

“You do not sleep, Aldhelm?” she asks easily, glancing up from her work just long enough to cause the color to rise in his face.

He returns his knife to his belt and closes the door behind him, not sure he should, but certain it cannot remain open. “I found myself lost in thought. But you, Lady, are also awake. Do you not sleep either?”

Aldhelm steps closer, heart pounding, and sees the garment she’s mending is the robe he’d been wearing that fateful night in Winchester. The bloodstain, by some miracle, had disappeared after vigorous scrubbing with ash and cold water, but the jagged rift in the fabric had remained, Aldhelm finding himself strangely averse to repairing it. The gash was an echo of the scar on his own body which served as a warning that might reinforce his better judgement should he find himself again at odds with Aethelred. A warning which now has been turned into a message with quite a different tone. Wounds will heal, rifts will be repaired, and his heart will continue beating for a singular purpose—he can no longer deny it does. He had admitted it to her, those weeks ago, now he has admitted it to himself.

“You needn’t trouble yourself.” Objection is futile for many reasons, not least of which is the mesmerizing effect that her elegant and efficient needlework has on him.

“It’s no trouble,” she replies. “And I’m nearly done.” Indeed, as she speaks she pulls the final stitch and inspects her work. “There. You can hardly tell.”

When she offers him the garment he accepts, and it feels somehow heavier than he remembers. Her hands linger near his, fingers buried in the folds of the fabric.

“My lady, you endanger yourself by being here.” He cannot help but remind her.

She lifts an eyebrow in that authoritative way of hers. “You ought to worry for yourself more than you do me, Aldhelm.” And as she traces along the line of her stitches her fingers brush his.

He’s struck suddenly by a memory from several years ago: Aethelflaed in profile, sitting atop her horse as she commands the Mercian fyrd. Something about her expression now makes it impossible for him not to recall that moment. He wonders if perhaps that was the moment when his heart had begun to turn towards her. He cannot be sure, for he had found himself ambushed by sentiment before he’d even realized that his affections had been capable of attaching themselves to such an object.

“I should let you rest.” That thoughtful line he has come to love so well has appeared between her brows.

“I am honored to have been visited by such a careful seamstress,” he says, taking a step back to allow her aside.

She smiles slightly. “I was told as a child to make my stitches neat, or they would not hold.”

“Precision is a strong suit of yours, I have noticed,” he remarks, awed that still she does not leave.

“Not, however, of my husband’s,” she replies, her tone darkly humorous. “And thank God for that.”

“Why are you here, Lady?” The question is as blunt as it is inevitable. It is late, and he is tired, and she is too exceptional not to be aware the effect she has on him.

Her expression turns sober, and he curses himself for his candor. “My apologies, I did not mean—“

She shakes her head. “Do not apologize. You are right, I should not be here."

“You do not intend to tell me why you’ve broached propriety for such a small task?” Aldhelm asks, folding the length of the garment in half and setting it aside.

“It is not a small task,” she replies, and lays a hand on his chest.

He places his hand atop hers as if to confirm he had not imagined it her touch.

“I should let you rest,” she repeats, but instead of moving away, she moves closer.

“You should rest as well,” he replies. “But only after you reveal your true purpose.”

Her eyes crease with a smile. “Do you suspect me of duplicity?”

“If you no longer suspect me, I feel compelled to maintain the balance myself.”

She breathes a laugh, but her grave look returns.

“If I were a more hopeful man,” he brushes his thumb along the curve of her cheek, “I’d invent some foolish reason for your presence.”

“Perhaps, Aldhelm,” she says, and his heart leaps at the sound of his name on her tongue, “Perhaps you may allow yourself a little foolishness, on this occasion only.”

He gently lifts her chin towards him. Her eyes are bright and clear, no trace of uncertainty in her face.

“I am afraid I shall play the fool too well,” he murmurs.

She rises on her toes to kiss him. “I have no doubt you will regain your reason, before long.”

And he wraps his arms around her and gives in to hope, at least for a night.

[dishonestkilla]

Hate Me

This is a very short headcanon I thought of while listening to the song below.

TW: Angst, language, NSFW, 18+ content, mentions of violence, smut, toxic relationship, nasty smut it's nasty so read at ur ownnnnnnnn risk

Pairing: Drug Dealer!ReaderAU × Dabi

words: 3k

There was a thick silence in the dark alley where they stood. The only sound being the sound of tobacco burning on the other side of the cancer stick that was placed between her plush lips, the smoke she inhaled being freed the moment she breathed out, letting the toxins out towards his furious face.

Teal eyes burnt through her soul, shooting daggers at her. If a gaze could kill, she would've been long dead.

"So, that is all you are? A petty criminal?" The question was more rhetorical than something that actually needed to be asked. Dabi never knew what she actually did, hell, he now wanted to know if he ever actually was aware of who she was..But now, all that he could feel was a slice of anger blinding his sight.

"Yeah," She shrugged, still unfazed by his shaking figure and in one second, she could've sworn that a blue flame sparked on the surface of his scarred face but being the stubborn woman, the warning sign of his rage was ignored.

To her, his wrath was not justified nor was it plausible. This was her life, it had always been. Just because she let him spend a night here and there, caressed the side of his rough face, kissed his lips tenderly and loved him dearly, holding him close whenever she felt like breaking, it didn't mean that he could interfere in her business life.

"You have been lying to me all this time? Staged working at Kurogiri's bar for what? To get your hands on some filthy money?? Is that it? Money? Is that all you care for? Don't you think that our world has enough problems, wouldn't you like to be part of something that is actually worth a thing?" Dabi's voice raised slightly at the end, his hands flying up in dissatisfaction as he eyed her, but the sight he saw was anything but pleasant.

Her face had been contorted into a crooked smile, head tilted go the side just a little, orbs darker than usual. That grimace made him so mad, he could've sworn a vein in his neck popped from how tense he had become.

"Listen to yourself, acting all big and tough. Fucking hell," Y/N blurted, a big puff of smoke leaving her throat as she laughed out, "So what if I am not the Messiah. So what if I am not like you, a saint, a chosen one. I have been doing this ever since I left home, if you don't like it, you don't have to be going out with me." She continued, face turning serious, her orbs now igniting a new flame in themselves.

"You don't have to love me, if you don't want to accept me," her voice was barely audible when she said that but knowing Dabi, Y/N was sure he heard her.

"Why don't you let me help you then? Because I do love you, fuck, I love you so much, isn't it proof enough that I'd put myself as a villain at risk to be exposed to some junkie that would die to sell me to the police? Just to be able to he-" before the real eyed male could continue, he was interrupted, Y/N now also tensed up, lips quivering, she was mad and it was evident.

"I don't need your damn help, you bastard!" And in the next second, her hand had made contact with the surface of his face, leaving a red print behind.

"I owe you nothing and don't want to either," she hissed, jaw clenching, hands balled into fists as her gaze was now hunting him down.

"Owe me? Who in the fuck told you that in a relationship people owe each other things?!"

"Who in the fuck dated you, so that you know now?!" Her words weren't little knives into his hearts, no, it was like her ever so soft hands wrapped around the organ itself, crushing it inside of his chest. Just like that.

"You don't mean that," He whispered, now suddenly vulnerable, hurt and saddened.

"Yes, I do. I do, because you always claim to know everything, mess up my business, try to tell me what the fuck to do, and then dare to teach me on relationships. Reality check, Dabi. You're a villain, a burnt, brutal, scary villain. Nothing more." She yelled at this point. Tears welling up in her eyes, entire body shaking in frustration as her voice made it's way to the ears of the black haired man.

His lips were shaking, and now it wasn't only anger and sadness inside of his guts, it was something much worse.

Dabi wanted to wrap his hands around her throat and squeeze. Hard.

But no, not like one of the times where he had her against the wall, hips plowing into hers, one nipple between his fingers as she moaned loudly at his ministrations, head against the concrete. Not like those times where he let out his steam on her, ravaging her body, leaving purple marks on her satin alike skin that he had adorned with love bites moments before.

It wasn't one of the many moments in which she submitted to him with a mewl because of how roughly his digits burned her as a sign of affection alongside of his length caressing her velvety walls, bruising thrusts being the source for the nasty clapping and squelching noises that filled the room of the empty bathroom stall in some random club.

This was different, he wanted to cut her oxygen supply for good, watch as her face started to grimace, eyes rolling back as he took her life ever so slowly before burning her perfect body in his flames, feeling her warmth one last time before extinguishing her.

Without even noticing, he had moved forward, trapping her between the brick barricade behind her, caging her between his arms while holding her down with his own weight.

The way she looked at him caused a low growl to erupt his chest, a rush of heat running down his spine as he watched her with intent eyes.

Now, it was his turn to smirk twistedly at Y/N as the girl gulped. It wasn't like she was weak, the opposite, her quirk was one to be feared at least to say, after all, she could manipulate other people's nerves to bend at her own will, if she wanted to, she could cause him severe pain, but instead of that, she let him pin her down with his eyes. Despite of being powerful, she was fairly aware of Dabi's high pain tolerance as well as his immense strength. Y/N wasn't stupid enough to try and fight the male when she was intoxicated at that.

"Let me show you what you do to me.."

Before she could even protest, his lips had been attached to her sweet spot right below her right ear, a meal leaving her plump lips, melting at his touch and the way his calloused hands traveled the surface of her body. Arms now around his neck as she pulled him impossibly closer, causing Dabi to snicker against her throat while leaving wet kisses on her neck, marking her in his wake.

"Look at you, already a whimpering mess and I haven't even started yet," he rasped, now standing up straight again to meet her desperate gaze.

"Shut up," the girl retorted with sass, now it was her turn to tease him.

Lips colliding with his own, the taste of nicotine and whiskey flooding her senses, everything a blur and the reason on why they had started to banter long forgotten, the only thing mattering being their lust and desire for one another.

While his fingers tugged at the strands of her locks, her own had started to fumble with his belt, haphazardly ripping away the leather piece before she slid down the wall to kneel in front of his growing erection.

The heels of her shoes now meeting the wall as he had granted little space so she could do whatever she wanted to.

Soft pecks placing themselves against his restrained bulge before his hands wrapped themselves around her hair, making her look up at his gaze, "Get to it," he ordered and Y/N didn't have to be told twice before pulling his pants and boxers down to below his thighs, just enough to grant access to the angry tip of his cock, precum already leaking down the slit.

Experimentally she licked a stripe from his base to the tip, tasting his slightly pineapple flavoured release.

Yes, pineapple. She had forced him to eat the fruit regularly, if he wanted her lips around his length and his shaft down her throat.

One hand wrapped around him, thumb and index finger not able to touch, she started to jerk off the tall individual in front of herself, eyes focused on his leaking tip, paying attention to the area with kitten licks.

"Did you forget how to suck dick? Do I have to remind you?" He snapped at her, a sneaky smirk on his face.

Not wanting to play his petty game, the female let her head down till her nose met with his pubic bone, irises blown wide with lust at the sight of him groaning, his head lulled back at the immense pressure of feeling the walls of her throat inviting him.

Repeating the action a few times she then proceeded to suck down his erection with quick yet impactful bobbing motions, cheeks hollowing around him, practically milking him for whatever he was about to give her.

The two were fighting, they hated each other at times and probably had been at the verge of killing the other more than just once, however, they also knew each other more than anyone else did and not only physically but also emotionally. Now, the knowledge of one another's body and sweet spots were the advantage of their frankly scandalous little escapade in some dark alleyway where she had been dealing some of her 'happy pills' and 'devil's lettuce' the latter being what she was high on herself. The only difference being the passion and burning desire that fueled her intoxicated mind to wander even more. 'Test the waters and play with fire', as she liked to say.

One of his scarred hands darted out into her hair, nimble fingers digging in as he took a fist of her locks into his palm, pulling her head down his entire shaft, the intrusion causing a soft gag to escape her throat, eyes shooting up to meet his mischievous gaze upon her, the sight of his lazy smirk yet fiery orbs sending a jolt straight to her core.

He had regained control of what was going down, his hips now ramming into her mouth as if it was a fleshlight for him to abuse. The mere sight of how her pretty lips wrapped around his tip just to be parted more whilst he forced her down onto his length, the way she salivated all over him, drool now dribbling down onto her exposed cleavage that was peeking up from underneath the flimsy top she wore, her eyes slowly watering as she laid her hands on either side of his thick thighs. It was mesmerizing, if he could he would take a picture of it.

Finally satisfied with one last thrust into her sloppy cavern, the male didn't wait any longer before pulling her up to her wobbly legs, turning her around, he pushed her face into the wall behind herself, moving behind her as his lips latched onto her neck again, leaving bite marks here and there while his hands made quick work of her leather pants, pulling them down her thighs hastily, groaning at the sight of her lacy panties, "Seems like you've expected this, yeah? Getting fucked by no other than your man in a nasty alleyway." Making her sneer at him, she was quick to reply to his comment, "My man? Darling, you're not even a man in the first place!" That was it.

That was what caused his next moves to be crude and rougher than usual.

Pinning her arms behind her back as he bent her over against the wall, hips plowing into her, intruding her insides to spread for him, grunting as her wet, spongy walls clenched around him.

Without further do, he started to slam into her with slow, yet deep thrusts, the force of each thrust causing her entire body to jolt forward, pushing her against the wall even more.

His moves never faltered as he pulled out of her so merely his tip was coated in her juices, forcing his entire dick into her repeatedly before he set a steady pace of in and out.

Dabi was taking his time judging on how he dragged out the moment by changing between steady thrusts and reckless ramming.

One hand that supported her hips whilst she moaned and mewled at her insides being rearranged by him over and over, lifted, igniting a fire for a second before raining down onto each ass cheek of the girl in front of himself, leaving red hand prints that would stay for quite some time, marking her squeal at the force, the rough treatment being painful yet so pleasant that she couldn't help but moan out incoherent words as his hips sped up to an erratic pace, knocking the air out of her lungs.

"Yeah? What was that? Who isn't your man, huh? Say that again, I want to hear you say it." The way his voice seemed so unfazed caused her to roll back her hips like some sex-crazed animal, whimpering at the lack of treatment when he suddenly pulled out just to forcefully pull her flush against himself.

However, Y/N wasn't that fragile, with that being said, a smirk crept onto the female's flushed face, "Not you-" Her answer caused a low growl emit from the male, as he pulled her back by her hair, now back arched even more as he groaned against her ear, voice raspy, the hand that held her wrists wrapping around her throat, cutting the air supply of the girl, hips assaulting her again, the sound of skin slapping filling the quiet alley.

As her walls clenched yet again caused by him abusing her cunt for more than half an hour without letting her release, each time pulling out just to make sure she'd get the message of who was in charge. At this point she was shaking, her jaw slack while tears ran down her cheeks, staining her face.

"Come on, baby, tell everyone here who your man is and I will fuck you until you cum all over my cock, little slut," He could swear that he felt her grow even tighter around his length as he degraded her yet again.

"D-D-Dabi.." her voice was a mere whisper and not enough for the hot headed man, shaking his head as his hips came to a halt again. Denying her release all over.

"What, princess, I couldn't hear you and I bet no one else could either. Use your pretty brain if you want to cum."

Those words finally pulled her trigger as she started to beg the wanted villain, "H-hah~ Please, Dabi, I am yours, all yours and - you're my m-man, please make me cum.." She pleaded, voice desperate and in a hoarse tone.

Pleased with her begging, the black haired criminal picked up his recklessly rough pace again, one hand creeping to her front as he started to rub her clit in circles, and all of that combined to the low growl and grunts coming from him while biting her neck was enough to make white flash in her vision, body trembling as her release gushed out of her abused hole, screaming out his name.

Vigorously shaking in his arms as he worked her furthermore until he released his seed into her, painting her walls white whilst she milked him.

"I've got you, I've got you." The man cooed, caressing her body as he slowly let her calm down before pulling out of her, helping her redress as he pulled his pants up himself, watching her lean against the wall, hair tousled and mascara running down her eyes as he held out a hand, wiping away the black streaks lovingly, her head automatically leaning into his touch.

"I hate everything about you," she mumbled, making him chuckle, cocking an eyebrow at her as he watched her put a blunt between those lips of hers, lighting up the piece before inhaling the toxins inside of it, eyes rolling to the back of her head in comfort.

Moving forward he took the piece from her, he grabbed her jaw after she took another big hit, kissing her softly, tongues and smoke mixing together before he took her hand and lead her to his nearby apartment, with her just strolling after him like a lost puppy just to be cuddled up on his chest moments later upon her arrival in his shabby little space, arms around him while smoking yet another blunt.

Looking up at his turquoise eyes that held so many unreadable emotions, she let out a huff, pouting at him before laying her cheek flat against the surface of his sternum again.

"I didn't mean that," She slowly admitted, looking up to see him smirk a little, man if she could've just punched him. Well, she could..But shouldn't..Unless..

"I know that you were just Dic-"

"Don't say it, I swear to god, do not say it!"

"Dickrived,"

"Ugh! you're such a dork."

Both laughed at the silly comment Dabi made proudly, his entire chest puffing up before he embraced her with his arms, "Am I really such a monster?" He suddenly asked before she unexpectedly kissed his lips with passion, in an attempt to quiet him down.

"Shush, no you aren't. And even if you were.. You are my monster." Those were the last few words he heard before they both drifted off to sleep, never knowing what would expect them next.

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

A/N: This took longer than I thought, phew. Hope y'all thirsty ones liked it hehe.

[captain-tch]

All That I Can Give

summary: kiko is a struggling business owner thrown into the chaos of the borderlands. when she makes a mistake that will threaten her life, she learns just how far she will go to keep herself alive.

TW: DEATH, MENTIONS OF ATTEMPTED SUICIDE, MENTAL HEALTH, TOXIC RELATIONSHIPS, VIOLENCE

chapter 8: cops and robbers

previous chapter

Kiko and Tetsu looked up at the police station with cautiousness. Kiko couldn’t help but snap her head back to the sign lighting up with the words GAME ARENA, turning her head back to the station. It didn’t look like the arena could be anywhere else. 

“You sure this is the right place?” 

Tetsu grunted. “Unfortunately.” 

“I don’t have a great feeling about this.” Kiko sighed. Absentmindedly, her hand ran through her ponytail, curling the ends around her finger. Her bandaged hand remained limp at her side. 

“It can’t be any worse than any of the other games,” Tetsu paused. “Right?”

Kiko felt inclined to agree, just to ease the knot of stress that had tensed his shoulders. She didn’t want him going into a game too riled up - it would make her job ten times harder. She didn’t want to tell him what really was on her mind, how each time she played instead of getting better, it seemed to get worse, and her brain had been conjuring up endless possibilities throughout her sleepless night.

Each time she had entered a game, she had been alone. Each time she left with more memories she couldn’t erase. 

Maybe it would be different this time. 

She prayed it would be different this time. 

Forcing one foot in front of the other, Kiko led the way into the police station. Tetsu was hot on her heels, letting the heavy door slam shut, making their presence known. Curious eyes followed the pair to the table set up in the entrance. She paid them no mind. Kiko passed Tetsu a phone, pulling hers to her face to register. 

“REGISTRATION COMPLETE.” 

Her brows involuntarily pulled together. The swirling sensation in her gut slowly turned into a tornado. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the game master had been waiting for them to arrive, and now that they had, was far too happy to make them endure misery. 

“GAME: COPS AND ROBBERS. GAME DIFFICULTY: TWO OF CLUBS.”

Kiko wanted to cheer. This would be her easiest game yet. Perhaps they could breeze through this. A quick glance around the room told her the feeling was mutual. 

Her eyes continued to wander around the room as the rules were explained. “RULES: PLAYERS ARE EITHER A COP, OR A ROBBER. THE COPS WILL HUNT DOWN THE ROBBERS. ROBBERS WILL ESCAPE THE COPS. THE TEAM WITH THE MOST PLAYERS REMAINING AFTER TWENTY MINUTES WINS.”

She tried to assess the players around her. No one particularly stood out to her, besides a man and woman leaning against the counter. The woman was draped over the man, playing with what looked like a bracelet around her wrist. The man had a matching bracelet, and from where Kiko stood it looked like it said 32. She wondered for a moment what that could mean. They were both wearing beach wear. Kiko tried to dismiss her growing questions. 

No matter how hard she tried to pull her attention away from the pair, something kept dragging her back. It was almost like she was being pulled in by some omnipotent force. Something about the man niggled at the back of her brain. She tried desperately to conjure the answer. 

He flashed her a glowing smile. 

Kiko choked on air. 

Ares himself had joined the Borderlands. It was Ryuk. 

“ROBBERS HAVE A TEN MINUTE HEAD START - PICK YOUR WEAPON AND MASK FROM THE TABLE.” 

Kiko hadn’t even checked her phone to see what role she’d been assigned. She was too busy staring at her tormentor. He looked well, no major injuries or the slightest hint that the Borderlands was starting to affect him. He was made for this world after all. 

“Kiko,” Tetsu snatched the phone out of her hand, checking the role it had assigned her. “We’re both robbers, lets go.” 

She was grateful for the distraction, looking down at the selection of weapons with a frown. “This is it?” 

A hammer was the most lethal item on the table. Before anyone could reach for it, another member of her team had already snatched it up. Amongst the weapons were a backpack, stationary, and a set of walkie talkies. 

Tetsu grabbed the walkie talkies. He selected the first mask he could find, snorting at the terrifying clown design. “Here, it suits your face.” 

Kiko couldn’t even think of a retort. She took the mask and slid it onto her face, disappearing into the police station. Tetsu jogged to keep up. 

“You didn’t pick a weapon!” 

The words didn’t even process in her brain. She was consumed with the past, memories blurring before her eyes. Scars burned and bruises lit up at the flashbacks. Her throat constricted the more these thoughts rushed through, until it absorbed her very being. 

A pair of rough hands pushed her into the wall. She cried out, healing bruises on her back radiating agony. Kiko resisted the urge to cower, prying open her eyes that she hadn’t even realised had closed. 

Through the limited field of vision through the mask, she could see Tetsu towering over her. His hands were tight on her arms, his mouth set from the gap she could see in his mask. “You need to put whatever is bothering you to the back of your mind. We’re in a game now. Don’t let whatever it is get us killed.” 

Kiko’s entire body was quivering. Tetsu relaxed his grip. The fury ebbed away as he squeezed her arm reassuringly, as if to try to replace the memory of his vice like grip. “I’m sorry.” He whispered. 

Visibly gulping, she brushed him off. She cleared her throat. “It’s fine.” 

Puling away from Tetsu, she started to pound her way down the hall. “Where are the others?” 

“They took off.” 

Kiko froze in her steps. She slowly turned to Tetsu, unable to close her jaw. “But this is a clubs game?” 

“I think the plan is to stay as wide spread as possible. If it’s harder to find us, it’s harder to kill us.” He sighed. He lifted his mask away from his face for a moment, rubbing his hand against his jaw. “We should stick together. If we get split up, find the CCTV room.” 

Kiko agreed to the plan. He passed her a walkie talkie, attaching his own to his own belt loops. Kiko followed suit. “We can use these to talk to each other. It lets us know that the other person is still alive.” 

“THE TEN MINUTE HEAD START IS OVER. GAME START. GOOD LUCK.” 

Kiko shivered at those words. She clenched and unclenched her fists, gaze moving all around them. 

“We need to hurry, find somewhere that’s quiet.” 

Tetsu agreed. As quietly as they could, they crept through the halls of the police station. Kiko kept an eye out for any weapons she could use lying around. She prayed she might have been able to find a gun in a drawer, or a knife taped beneath a desk. 

So far, nothing. 

She cursed the movies she had seen as she opened another drawer, only to find the contents empty. It seemed that if there was a higher force here, it was set on mocking her.  

They carried on down the hall. The slap of fast, staggered footsteps grabbed their attention. In a flash, Tetsu and Kiko parted, Kiko hiding beneath a desk and Tetsu splaying himself as flat as he could inside of an alcove. 

The pair of them held their breath as a masked face ran past, heaving breaths and limping gait. 

“Please - someone help me!” The woman cried out, tripping over her own feet. She crashed to the floor in a heap. Her body heaved up and down. She made no attempt to get back up. 

Tetsu moved to leave his corner. His eyes connected to Kiko. She firmly shook her head. A bad feeling churned in her gut as another pair of footsteps, almost teasingly slow, crept up to the woman. 

“Did you seriously think you could out run me?” 

Tetsu slid as far back into the shadows he could. Kiko watched the scene unravel with baited breath. The same bracelet caught her attention as the predator leant down. 

Ryuk. 

Ryuk snatched the woman, spinning her so she was laying flat on the ground. Her cries grew in intensity. He crouched in front of her, swiftly removing her mask, both hands caressing her cheeks. In his silky smooth voice, he whispered a sweet nothing in her ear. “You have nothing to fear.” 

A resounding crack deafened Kiko’s ears. The woman’s body collapsed to the floor. Kiko fought the urge to scramble backwards as the woman’s unseeing eyes stared in her soul. She was fixated on the bent angle of the woman’s neck. Her thoughts should be full of fear but all Kiko could feel was an overwhelming sense of relief that it wasn’t her. 

“NINE ROBBERS REMAINING.” 

Kiko swore under her breath. It was only a few minutes into the game and already one of the members of her team was dead. If they carried on at this rate, there wouldn’t be any of her team left at all. 

Her hands were itching to grab a hold of Ryuk’s neck. To feel the life pulse and strain under her palms as he fought for breath. She craved to see the face of a scared little boy as she stole his future from him. Kiko wanted to hear the bodiless voice shout out her victory in murdering the very man who destroyed her life. 

As if sensing what she was thinking, Tetsu shook his head. His warning struggled to bypass the bloodlust corrupting her thoughts. She wanted Ryuk dead. 

She could convince herself it was for the game; she never was very good at lying to herself. 

“Ryuk!” A girly whine screeched. “Why did you steal my kill?” 

A manic smile spread on Ryuk’s lips. “If you didn’t play with your food, you could have killed her sooner.”

The girl huffed. She draped her arms around his neck, grinning at him brightly. “Promise to give me the next one?” 

“Anything for you.” He leered at her. Ryuk cupped her cheek almost lovingly, dragging a thumb over her skin. “But remember - if you see that Kiko girl, she’s mine.” 

Kiko wasn’t able to see Tetsu’s reaction, but she imagined it wasn’t good. She was going to have a lot of explaining to do later. Kiko’s thigh started to cramp from the awkward position. She tried to delicately manoeuvre herself. 

Her hand slapped the floor. 

Wide eyes connected to Tetsu’s. She prayed to whatever higher power there was that the sound was muffled. In her experience, prayers never usually worked. 

“What was that?” 

Kiko tensed her muscles. She started to slowly rise into a squat, readying herself to run. She shared a panicked look with Tetsu. His hands were moving as if signalling to her a plan. In the darkness of the shadows, Kiko couldn’t translate. 

“Hey - get back here!” Ryuk boomed. 

Tetsu darted from his corner, sprinting down the corridor. Ryuk bolted after him. Kiko had an overwhelming sense of deja vu. She felt her mind grasp the edges of the memory, a vile feeling halting her from submerging herself completely. She needed to do whatever she could to stop Ryuk. First, she had bigger fish to fry. 

His friend was about to trail him when Kiko popped up from behind the desk. In a split second, she instinctively grabbed a chair from behind the desk and threw it at the girl. She screeched, ducking out of the way. 

It bought Kiko the precious seconds she needed to sprint in the opposite direction to Tetsu. She hated Ryuk chasing him, but at least now he only had one wolf targeting him than two. 

The girl was closing in behind. She grabbed a handful of Kiko’s ponytail, dragging her backwards. Her scalp burned. A grunt left Kiko as she stumbled backwards into the girl. 

The girl tried reaching for her again. Kiko dodged the attack this time, pouncing to the left. The girl clenched her fist. Kiko didn’t give her time to land the punch, kicking furiously at the girl’s knee. She crumbled momentarily. 

A moment is all it takes. 

Kiko pushed the girl with all her might. The girl fell backwards, her body falling, falling, falling. Her head connected with a desk. A sickening crunch violated Kiko’s senses. 

“NINE COPS REMAINING.” 

Swallowing thickly, Kiko spun on her heel. She fought the urge to turn back and witness the consequences of her destruction, She resisted the need to clamp her hands over her ears to stop that awful sound on repeat. 

She didn’t have time for that. She had to find Tetsu. 

Walking on the palms of her feet, she slowly made her way out of the main corridor. She cast a glance in all directions, deeming it safe after a minute and dashing across the gap. 

“EIGHT ROBBERS REMAINING.” 

Kiko’s steps quickened. She rushed through the halls as fast as her body could take her, without sacrificing her caution. 

Hearing muffled voices, Kiko threw herself behind the nearest door. She splayed herself as flat as she could against the wall, sucking in her stomach and holding her breath. It felt like eons before the voices even reached her. Her lungs begged for air - she held on for longer. She couldn’t risk the smallest sound exposing her. 

The voices soon became silent. Kiko gasped for breath, sneaking a quick glance from behind the door. At the sight of no other people, she began to leave her hiding place. An object on the wall made her freeze in her tracks. 

Break glass in case of an emergency flashed at her. Kiko brought herself in front of the axe, a sense of relief falling on her shoulders. No longer weapon less, she could focus on finding Tetsu, not just on being undetected. 

One. 

Two. 

Three times she slammed her elbow against the glass. It shattered into fragmented pieces, the sound piercing the eerie silence. Kiko cringed, prying the axe off of it’s bracket and testing it’s weight in her hands. It was light enough to carry with her, extra weight aggravating her bleeding elbow. 

With her new found weapon at her side, she moved closer to her destination, the bodiless voice announced the fallen. By the time she was at the CCTV room, there were only four cops remaining and three robbers. Kiko pulled out her phone.

Five minutes until game over. 

Five minutes to kill one more cop and win. 

Peeking through the glass, Kiko felt fury surge through her veins. Without a second thought, she yanked the door wide open. 

The three men were busy kicking Tetsu. They were laughing, delivering harder kicks to his side, snickering whenever Tetsu let out a cry. At the centre of this was Ryuk, a splatter of blood spread on his cheeks. Just a glimpse of Tetsu’s face was enough to provide her the strength to swing the axe straight into the neck of one of his attackers. 

The man fell to the floor, grabbing at his neck. Blood rushed over him in a steady stream, his body quickly falling to the floor. 

“THREE COPS REMAINING.” 

For them to win, she could have stopped now. She could have ceased her rage and waited for the game to end. Six people could leave this game alive. 

But that wasn’t going to happen. 

“Kiko, you finally join us.” 

Kiko didn’t waste any time with small talk. She hurtled herself at the man, knocking the pair of them to the ground. Ryuk took the brunt of the hit, his head slamming on the floor. He grunted. Kiko relished in the sound, it lighting her body in a way nothing else had ever before. 

She clenched her fist, slamming it down into his nose. His head snapped backwards, blood freely gushing from his nostrils. Her knuckles burned at the contact yet a smile crept onto her face. Red looked so good on him. She needed to see more. Her arm moved forward to punch him again. 

She was suddenly stopped in her tracks. He was gripping her arm tightly, pushing it further and further away from his face. She tried to shake out of his grip. It only stronger. 

Sloppily, her bandaged hand came down to his face. Her hand barely skimmed his cheek. A bloodied smile spread on his face. “Still a weakling, aren’t you?” 

He pushed her backwards. Kiko fell flat on her back. She tried to ignore the healing wounds crying at the aggravation. She tried to stand up - his presence loomed over her. He stared down at her from above, gripping her jaw in a tight grip. She flung herself in every direction to free herself. His hand only gripped her tighter. In a last ditch effort, Kiko spat gracefully at him.

Swearing, he wrapped an arm around her neck. She felt his grip tightening. Her windpipe cried out, air cut off. She frantically clawed at his arm, arching her head as far up as she could, trying and failing to suck in air. 

“This,” he whispered in her ear, moving her hair with his breath. “This is what I’ve been waiting to do for years.” 

Everything was starting to become blurry. Her vision was slowly darkening, her eyes begging to flutter shut. Her arms wildly flew out, attempting to land a hit and make it all stop. In her narrowing vision, she caught sight of Tetsu, relentlessly fighting his own attacker. 

You fight to get back home. 

Tetsu’s words echoed in her mind. She wasn’t dying. Not without a fight. If she was going to die, she was going to leave him with a scar to remind him just who the hell she was. 

Kiko clamped her teeth down on Ryuk’s arm. She bit him hard enough to draw blood, not stopping as she heard him yowl in pain. His grip loosened slightly - all it takes is one moment. Kiko slammed her head backwards, ignoring the stars floating before her as her head connected with his. 

Now completely free of his grip, she quickly looked around the room. Grabbing a paperweight from a table, she climbed on top of her tormentor, using all of her strength to keep him down. 

“GAME OVER - CONGRATULATIONS.” 

Kiko looked down at Ryuk. She saw a powerless, weak man, trembling under her grip. She could spare him, having taught him the lesson she had been dying to teach him for years. 

Or she could kill him. 

Kiko tossed the paperweight from each hand, sneering down at Ryuk. “You made my life an absolute hell.” 

“I’m sorry,” he trembled. 

“Not good enough.” 

Her hands slammed down. His skull buckled under the paperweight. There was a dent in his head, and from his blinking, teary eyes, he was still alive. Repeatedly Kiko slammed the paperweight into his head, turning his head into an unrecognisable mess, screaming manically. 

Tears mingled with the blood and viscera on her face as she drove another shot into the remains, heaving. She had to keep going. She still knew it was him. She wanted to erase the memory of him, to destroy him like he had destroyed her. Nightmares rose up as she drove the paper weight down again and again and again. 

Riku coming home with a black eye. 

Finding the outside of her beloved music shop vandalised with death threats. 

Waking up in the middle of the night to find he had broken in, the only trace being a knife lodged into a family photo. 

Shaking like a leaf when he left, the brave façade falling as quickly as it had been built up. 

The paper weight slipped from her hands. Her hands were coated in blood. A shaky breath passed Kiko’s lips as she slowly turned to look at what her hands had done once again. 

She turned to the side, and vomited. 

Gagging at the acidic taste lingering on her tongue, she wiped at the back of her mouth. As she stumbled to her knees, Kiko caught sight of a young girl hidden behind a cabinet, knees pulled in close to her chest. She was shaking, her head deeply hidden in her knees. 

“I’m sorry.” She uttered in the empty space between them. The girl didn’t respond. 

Forcing herself to turn away from her destruction, she started to look for Tetsu. He was sat leaning against a filing cabinet. Upon seeing her, he weakly lifted his hand up in a greeting. The cop he’d been fighting was unconscious on the floor next to him. 

Tetsu looked at the state of Kiko. To her surprise, he didn’t flinch away. 

She offered him a hand. He groaned as he took it, leaning the majority of his body weight on her. 

“Let’s get out of this hell hole.” 

[houndin-around]

Volition | Darth Maul

warnings: angst, minor abuse from previous master, minor drug mention, a small tidbit of arousal | Padawan is of age !

author notes: so today turned into a really bad day and so I took my anger out on writing I guess. Hope ya’ll enjoy it! We all need a maul to rescue us from some shit. This is my first time writing for maul so please be nice 🥺 I’m still second-guessing myself on posting this...😅

“(Y/n) go back to your quarters. I’m done dealing with your subpar technique.” your master ordered, whipping your lightsaber toward you.

Falling to your knees, lips quivering you didn’t even dare to look at your master. “I’m sorry master...please. Please forgive me. One more chance?” you begged.

“Absolutely not! You don’t even deserve the rank as my padawan (y/n), and yet here you are before me. Look how pathetic you are, is this how you’ll be on the battlefield when you lose? Get out of my sight.”

Burning hot with shame as you failed his assessment on formation, though it was something you studied to no end, you still managed to screw it up. Tears streamed down your face as you sat in the dirt, his words cutting into you like a vibroblade. You couldn’t fathom how out of all the Jedi in the temple you ended up with Master Feles. As you were growing up, you had hoped to begin your training with Master Plo Koon, Mace Windu, Obi-Wan Kenobi, or even Master Yoda. At least they were kind to you, but it never worked like that no. Feles sensed much strength within you and thus convinced the council to let him train you. But why? He acted as he cared for you but as soon as you slipped up, harsh words were thrown at you and sometimes even his fists. Master Feles was so full of rage, hate, his aura throwing off uncertain vibes within your instincts.

Alas, there wasn’t anything you could do, you’ve been his padawan for many years and put up with his barbarous treatment. It’s not like the other Jedi masters would believe it though, Feles had them wrapped around his finger. The only time they ended up being skeptical of his teachings was when he ended up losing a battle against the separatist droids, blaming it on you for slowing him down. The result was a quick strike from his lightsaber against your back when you turned to check on one of your downed troopers.

Taking a deep breath, you grab your lightsaber that was thrown into the dirt and wipe it off with your robes. Clipping it to your belt, you scan the area quickly before heading toward the corridor leading to the back entrance of the Jedi temple. It would be hard to dodge any Knights or Masters walking the hallways but it was worth it. You needed to leave and clear your mind, to pretend you weren’t even a padawan for just a night. As you approach a long staircase, two knights head in your direction walking in unison. Swiftly you tuck yourself behind a statue attempting to silence your mind so your presence isn’t detected.

Several excruciating moments later, they pass too absorbed in their own discussion about who was to become a Master before the other. Hesitantly you make you way down the stairs scanning the lower level to see if anyone was lingering. It was well past curfew so luckily you didn’t run into anyone else on your journey to the back entrance. Stepping foot outside of the temple without having to carry out a mission or an errand felt so liberating. Heading down the vast staircase that led toward the city of Coruscant, you couldn’t help but launch into a sprint. The freedom lured you out encouraging you to detach from the order you once followed so closely. Pulling your hood over your head to mask your identity somewhat, you saunter the lively streets of Galactic City. No one even bothers to pay you any mind which eased the anxiety that whirled around in your gut.

The only unfortunate part about this planet was there weren’t many places to just sit down and rest. Everyone was always in such a hurry that sitting down to take in the sights around never came to mind to these citizens. Nearing a dark alley, you round the corner finding it empty, where it was less likely for anyone to want to bother you. Sitting on the duracrete sent a shiver up your spine, it was nothing like the plush pillows you knelt on in the temple but it would have to do. Head against the building made of durasteel, you glance up barely able to make out the stars as the lights of Coruscant hid them.

Out of the corner of your eye, were two gentlemen also hooded part taking in some dubious acts. At first, they hadn’t realized you, though once they did they strutted over, grins flustered on their face.

“What’s a pretty face doing out here all by her lonesome?” the one snickered.

“Seems like she needs some protecting, whaddya think Ander?” the second snickered.

“Well, seems like you just witnessed something you weren’t supposed to. Only way out of it is either pay up and buy some death sticks off me, or you come with us. I much rather the second option. We’re both a good amount of fun.” Ander elbowed his friend playfully, eyes narrowing at you as they both erupted into a fit of laughter.

“I didn’t see anything...I-I promise. Please just leave me alone.” you pleaded. Of course, you didn’t want to make a scene and it was against the code to use your power in any type of personal gain. As much as you wanted to detach from the ways of the Jedi you simply couldn’t abandon the belief system that taught you so much.

“See, we can’t take your word for it sweetheart, so you’re going to have to come with us.” the second unnamed counterpart was a Trandoshan, a species you’re familiar with for being quite aggressive.

The Trandoshan had his digits gripped onto your jaw, staring into your eyes as Ander prattled on probably due to the effects of the death sticks.

“Get your kriffing hands off me!” rage engulfed you, causing you to use the force against the two.

Shocked by the sudden revelation, the men couldn’t scurry out fast enough, fearing for their lives. A sigh of relief escaped your lips only to be sucked back in at the sound of another voice.

“It seems like you’re very strong with the force hmm?” his voice was honeyed, though it sent a shudder down your back at the deep sound.

“I guess..not really though,” you mumbled. “I shouldn’t have done what I just did.” guilt beginning to consume you as you just let anger take over.

“And why do you say that? Because you used your gift simply to protect yourself?”

“It’s not the Jedi way…” trailing off you kneel down before the stranger, assuming he was a Master as it was hard to make out his robes due to the lighting but he spoke in a way that suggested so. “You know that…”

A deep chuckle was released, “I am no Jedi. I was trained in the ways of the force yes, but was never a Jedi.”

The rush of fear soon rested inside you as you realized before you was a sith. Was it the one the Jedi have been looking for? The sith lord? “You’re a sith! You’re the one everyone has been looking for!” you hissed.

Walking closer, the faint light showed bits of his face which was red intertwined with black ink, his eyes a honey-like color that was surrounded by a crimson ring. “My darling, you may think I am evil. I am not. I am efficient. I was apprentice to the most powerful being in the galaxy once. I was destined to become so much more. But I was robbed of that destiny by the Jedi, by Obi-Wan Kenobi.” Moving even closer to you, he too knelt down in front of you, inches away from your face eyes locked. “My name is Maul. I no longer have any attachment to the sith. I’m purely on my own.”

Blinking, you try to figure out how Master Kenobi played in this though that wasn’t something that concerned you too much. What did was the fact this stranger and force wielder is mere inches away from your face, intrigued with you. “So what do you want with me…? It’s clear you want something.” you faltered.

“Passing by, I heard your thoughts. The white noise they emitted that distracted me and lured me in out of pure curiosity. Then,” he paused, licking his lips “Then I saw the power you possess deep inside of you. A power only I am able to help you achieve. But I also feel your strong hatred toward something. Perhaps..someone?” a smirk emerged as he noticed you beginning to go wide-eyed

Putting your head down, you realized you needed to silence your thoughts and feelings as they were clearly becoming very loud for any force user to sense them. Suddenly your jaw was grabbed but the touch was oh so tender, so light as he brought your eyes back to his. As horrifying as this experience was, there was something about him that made you question his true intentions. His eyes seemed to be telling the truth even if his words seemed off, but you can see the pain within them.  

At the sight of you, his hearts began to thud, something about you was driving this zabrak insane. Could it be the power? The drive? Or was it something else so unfamiliar to the zabrak that made him almost feral with just the scent of you lingering in his nostrils. Callused fingertips still touching your soft skin, he closed his eyes trying to read you even further and to give you a chance to consider his words.

“I may have some doubts, but that doesn’t mean I want to leave nor join someone like you!” fear creeping into your voice. As much as you hated your master, how could you leave the only home you know, especially with Maul? A stranger you have no knowledge of, except that Master Kenobi had dealt with him at one point.

Pulling away, he turned his head and rose to his feet. “Very well. I won’t force you to make this decision. If you cannot see your true potential and want to continue enduring the mistreatment from your Master, so be it.” his once smooth voice, now harsh, full of rage.

Him knowing what your master has done was enough to make you fall back in surprise. The sincerity in his voice was convincing, but ultimately there wasn’t much to lose. At this point, it felt great to be away from the temple, and the thought of never seeing Feles again was a bonus. Quickly you leap to your feet, reaching out to grab his forearm. Even though you couldn’t see it a grin enveloped his features. Turning around, this time he leaned in closer, forehead brushing against yours, eyes searching yours.

“I-I’ll take your offer. Let me join you..and get me far away from here as possible. Help me discover my inner power you see.” you urged desperately. You were almost breathless with how close he was, but not out of fear this time, no it was something else. Something about him was drawing you in, the way he touched you, the way he looked into your eyes, it all just sent a new sensation into your depths. Even if your body never experienced this before it wanted more, it craved it, judging by Maul’s facial expressions he sensed it too, and he liked it.

“Good…” he trailed off, his grin still present on his face. “I will help you. Help you discover it all and so much more. You will never regret this encounter and joining me by my side. I promise you that.” His pupils were dilated and his breathing was ragged. A gentle hand moving a stray hair off your face, gaze still fixated like a predator stalking its prey.

Whether or not this was a good idea didn’t matter anymore. The Jedi didn’t matter anymore, nor did your attachment to the code itself, what you wanted now was him. The infatuation was too strong to ignore and swallowed you whole, making you it’s victim though you weren’t the only one falling for its trap.

[blankdblank]

Cosmic Scheme

@deepestfirefun​ here is your song request mingled with a few others long overdue. :D

Pink: So what

.

Na na na na na na, na na na na na na

Na na na na na na, na na na na na na

 The words rippled through the house that you were tearing the drywall and fixtures apart. The message to have the house readied for a photography crew to come by capturing the perfect location for the article on your foster sister who had been riding your coat tails since finding out years after you had run away from their home you had struck it rich. Now you were wanted and now you were useful. Well, for every inch of useful you had a foot of spite in your tiny yet formidable frame now leaving this place to ruin. The lease was signed over to her so she might use it for whatever she planned and you would be gone by the time she got here. Just you and the stray dog you found swimming in your duck pond out back through your morning tea.

 So, so what?

I'm still a rock star

I got my rock moves

And I don't need you

And guess what

I'm having more fun

And now that we're done

I'm gonna show you tonight

I'm alright, I'm just fine

And you're a tool

So, so what?

I am a rock star

I got my rock moves

And I don't want you tonight

 Barks from the massive Black Russian Terrier in your back yard had you dropping the crowbar from your hands that had just finished tearing holes in the wood floor, each board of which pulled up you kicked into pieces far from usable to undo the damage. The water had been shut off but each toilet, tub and sink was ruined with countertops smashed to unglue-able pieces the noise from which no doubt had been troubling the poor giant cuddle monster.

 You weren't there

You never were

You want it all

But that's not fair

I gave you love

I gave my all

You weren't there

You let me fall

 Wide eyed you ran out to the yard tossing away the protective glasses covering your eyes to your dog’s side grabbing his collar trying to pull him back from the badger hissing at him. “No, come on, leave the badger alone.”

“TH-,” trying to tug hi again the large dog bumped you aside onto your butt in the dew coated grass, with teeth still bared at the badger that hopped closer to you clawing at the ground warning it was to charge. Just a flash of fur and before you realized it the badger had you scrambling on all fours to the tree just past your pond. Splashing behind you Thorin’s jaws folded around your belt tugging you to scurry into the gap under the tree that around your body his large paws scooped more dirt out of the way and laid above you to wait for the badger to flee. Only, it didn’t.

Into the hole it leapt and you gasped at the herd of rabbits pulling a sled with all your things on it through the widening opening of the tree you were now looking up at. Straight out of a story book you realized you were falling down a deep dark tunnel while the cackling man on the sled rode down the walls with the badger stretching out to catch air slowing him enough to grip onto the sled. Beside you Thorin twisted and turned and in a try to grab him in his next roll to avoid a shifting root your vision went black at a mist you passed through.

.

Barks and hisses were traded for shouts and painfully onto all fours you forced yourself to shift your head grumbling at the slight sway to the world. “Bunnanunê,” A large hand landed on yours and your hand snapped back in your sitting up on your knees to look at the naked muscular dark haired man in front of you.

“Who are you?!”

“Please, do not be afraid,” he said at your shift to try and scramble backwards, “It’s your Thorin. Please.” His bright cerulean eyes pleading with you to trust him.

“Thorin is-,” Over your shoulder the massive spider suddenly moving from the shadows widening the eyes of the formerly enchanted King a hairy leg laid over your shoulder earning a ear ringing shriek from you. Ducking out from its reach you scrambled back to the naked man moving around him trying to flee only to shriek again making him turn when a tall redhead popped out of nowhere with swords drawn. Dropping down your eyes clenched tucking into a ball covering your face trembling through the King trying to settle against your back, stroking it tenderly between hushed whispers to lull you out of your panic.

Up you were helped and with a spare cloak Thorin was at least partially clothed in something akin to a kilt walking beside your wide eyed trembling self keeping hold of your hand. Hushedly speaking to you hoping to calm you even as you had been taken prisoner by the Elves circling you and the curiously naked Dwarf.

.

The past was hashed up and between shouts it was made clear that having taken off in his dragon sickness leaving the Company still alone and awaiting reinforcements in Erebor Thorin had no clue how he ended up in your world and turned into a dog you had adopted. Frequently the Elves looked to confirm your eyes were still locked on the ground in front of your trembling self while the Kings were once again in a shouting match. Down from above a leaf fell from a floral arrangement being moved to its new home and at the moment it brushed against your nose tears flooded into your eyes that snapped up to the bickering pair.

“Wh-,” their words shattered at your whimpering squeak turning their heads to you, out of nowhere you found your voice, and far louder than you had thought to you shouted, “WHY ARE YOU SHOUTING?!” Their mouths dropped open seeing the tears pouring down your dirt stained cheeks, not from fear but now from all your pent up rage flowing out of you. “First I am being thrown out of my home by this, dragon lady! Then I get fired! And out of nowhere my dog and I get attacked by this badger. We fall down this hole and there’s these rabbits that stole all my things and the old man took off with it all and the badger. I wake up in the woods! He was naked, a spider touched me, I get kidnapped and now you're both yelling!”

Sharply you inhaled in the pair shifting to face you fully. “He says he was my dog and what does that make you? Let me guess you turn into the white fox that has been hiding near my duck pond?! Is all of this some cosmic scheme to find me homeless again, because I’ve worked really hard for everything I had, but no! I can’t have nice things, I can’t be comfortable or the cruelest people on the planet come crashing through my door in some sordid scheme to take it all away again! No one has explained anything to me and I haven't eaten in hours, my ankle is throbbing and now I really, really have to pee…” Your voice trailed off at a squeak in the Kings looking you over at the quivering of your lip you bit at the tip of your rage dropping you back to the verge of crying from the weight of the past decade you had faced hard blows one after another to end your success.

Thorin glanced at Thranduil saying lowly, “She has to relieve herself,” more of a plea for some compassion to treat you kindly even if he was to be locked up again.

Thranduil glanced at Tauriel who tapped your arm kindly ushering you through the throne room and into the hall to the nearest water closet. Through the door she heard your sigh in being able to empty your bladder and the resuming hushed bickering between the Kings. A sharp scream from you again silenced them and had the pair sprinting to check you finding Tauriel already at your side while you shrank down struggling to touch your knotted curl filled ponytail, on top of which was a large bug that the reflection of had reduced you to screams again. Away from you it was tossed and Thorin again got to calming attempts that upon getting a full glimpse of your familiar face Thranduil joined in on the comforting.

A bath and a fresh change of clothes from the newly arrived Wizards Radagast and Gandalf who brought in your things to the guest apartment attached to the one Thorin was settled into.

.

Around the table you sat at still smoothing your hands over the bottom of your mint green blouse over your skinny black jeans, the dressiest of what you had to wear in your bag of usually paint splattered clothing. Thranduil in his seat inhaled deeply in the pouring of wine to fill his glass with Thorin’s next and yours third. The deep purplish blue shade of it tilting your head a moment with his voice drawing your bright purple eyes to him from under your curled side swept raven curls your hand lifted to brush out of your face slowly to fall into it again after slinging your curled braid Tauriel had helped you with over your back. “Now, Miss,” his eyes shifted to Thorin and back again stating your surname he had learned of from Thorin, “Pear, I was wondering if you might clarify a few details of your life, so we might be friends and gain an understanding of one another.”

“Like what?” Your eyes shifted to Legolas, from among the group you had been taken prisoner by and back again.

“Your parentage for one. What sort of household did you grow up into?”

“Um,” hastily you wet your lips and said, “Well, Mom was a sorter in a post office. She got sick when I was five, died two years later,” that had the others seated around you on the verge of shifting in their seats to keep from rushing to you seeing the pain in your eyes before they dropped to the salad first course being served in front of you. “Thank you,” you said with a grin to the Elf who bowed his head again just the same as he did for your thanks for the wine and water before that. “Never really knew my father outside of pictures, he didn’t want kids and when Mom said she was pregnant he took off saying he wanted to go ‘see the world’,”

Thranduil asked, “Pardon me, you said he abandoned her? For what, exactly?!”

You shrugged saying, “Not sure how far he got exactly, Mom said he had 20 bucks to his name when he left her.”

Thranduil’s jaw had dropped entirely enraged while Thorin asked, “How could a man abandon his wife and child?! How could a herd of deer replace the pair of you?!”

“Deer…Oh, they weren’t married. He said they would, but he lied to her to get her in bed. And, to be honest I would have just gotten in the way.”

Through the walls in the kitchen while the servants around you grit their teeth to remain silent the cooks and wait staff shouted in Elvish enraged that anyone would find a child as a burden or an obstacle. Thorin with his fist raised to his lips sat trying to stop trembling drawing your gaze to him still in his kilt wondering why he wasn’t allowed to bathe or given clothes to change into at the very least. Inhaling sharply Thorin lowered his fist and cleared his throat to ask, “Where did you go next?”

“Oh, um, I was bounced around for a few months to different specialists, because I stopped talking. Then I got sent to the Sackvilles.”

The name causing Thorin’s head to tilt asking, “Sackville-Bagginses?”

You shook your head, “No, but the father there Loell said he had a sister who married and changed her name to something like that. Moved far away.”

Thorin, “Lobelia,”

Your eyes narrowed a moment, “How did you know that?”

Thorin, “A hunch. No matter, were you treated well?”

“No. They used to keep me in a shed.” That had Thranduil’s trembling hand rise to smooth across his brow luring your eyes to him, “I ran away when I was 12. Managed to find odd hustles to eat and find rooms. Bluffed my way into an art competition and won the big pool at the end. Got a lot of work after that and, one day one of my foster sisters shows up charging things to my name.”

Thorin growled out, “Tallia,” Earning a nod from you.

Your stomach growled and Thranduil lowered his hand seeing you hadn’t eaten yet and he straightened up to start eating assuming you were waiting on him. Stabbing a group of leaves he cut with his knife he asked you, “I presume a congratulations is in order, clearly you two are courting.”

With fork in hand in the process of lifting your knife you asked, “With Thorin? He was a dog. I wasn’t an animal.”

Thranduil, “Ah, my apologies. There was a mistakable fondness.”

Legolas asked, “How would one gain your favor in courtship then, Miss Pear?”

“Just ask me for coffee”

Thorin looked up to you as you sliced your first piece of salad, “But you hate coffee..?”

“It's a figure of speech, it can be tea or dinner, or not even food related, just a fun activity. Like a hike.”

Legolas, “A hike? That does not seem to be a very romantic outing.”

“No, you have to say it's a date.” Legolas nodded and you continued, “You date and then you're bf/gf and then one day when the guy is ready he proposes and then you're engaged and then it's marriage after. Really simple.” Lifting the fork you eased the slice of salad between your lips and started to chew.

Thranduil, “Boy and girl friends? A courtship should be more than just a friendship between children.”

Thorin, “I agree. Hardly a term one should use for the love of their life.”

Hastily you chewed and swallowed to reply, “Well it’s not like most people have just one. Loell Sackville had fifty girlfriends while I was there and had been married six times.”

Thranduil, “SIX?!”

Your eyes shifted to the Elf King clearing his throat in a silent apology for yelling, “Well it’s sort of like the old myth, there was this god Zeus, and well he was jealous of mortals, who were born with two heads and four of each limb and lived in perfect peace with their soul mates always with them. So he cut them in half and would place some on other ends of the world, cursed to search out their other half until they died. Sometimes relationships just don’t work out because they don’t, sometimes you met the one and you are set for life cherished and adored for who you are. It hurts but love is a battle field.”

Thranduil, “Love is most certainly not a battlefield!” He looked to his son repeating the statement and then to you, “Truly your culture seemed more adept at inflicting pain than proving absolute devotion to those you cherish most in your life, those to whom you should protect with your very lives if need be.”

Unable to argue you simply nodded and looked to your plate making him sigh having seen the pain and nearness of tears in your eyes. Thorin hummed out, “We do not wish to belittle your home, merely we wish more than suffering for you.”

“I don’t have a home,” you muttered and eased another slice of salad between your lips.

Thorin replied stabbing another slice of his own salad, “You have a home! I am King under the Mountain and now that that beast Smaug is slain lying dead in that frigid lake-,”

Thranduil’s head turned to him saying, “Smaug is still in Erebor.”

Thorin, “I was there! I watched him raze Laketown to cinders and fall to a black arrow.”

Thranduil shook his head, “We have not seen that Fire Drake in decades. Laketown was still intact when our monthly goods were delivered there not twelve hours past.”

“How does that work?” You muttered to yourself and the pair looked at you making you blush when you noticed, “The, twelve hours past. We say twelve hours ago, why is it twelve hours past? Do you say I shall see you in twelve hours future?”

Thorin asked you, “Have you eaten any mushrooms from the forest?”

“No, I’m allergic to mushrooms. They give me hives. Come to think of it what was that mist in that hole? I can’t get the taste of bad milk out of my mouth.”

Legolas replied, “That must have been a mist from our mushroom beds. Most likely in a few hours it will pass.”

You nodded and took another bite of your salad after muttering, “Don’t mind me then, something about a non cinder lake.”

Thorin, “Yes,” drawing Thranduil’s curious stare from you, “I am certain beyond a doubt, we escaped from your dungeons and from Laketown traveled to Erebor. Smaug was awoken and flew to Laketown destroying the city before being brought down himself.”

Gandalf strode into the room drawing your eyes to him mid bite of your salad making Radagast and Legolas smirk at your lopsided mouth stretch to gather it all between your lips. “And that is where we come in Thorin.”

Thorin pointed his knife at the Wizard, “You! You have some nerve! I told you to leave me be, my people were safe here and I had found my One I was content to stay there and protect her in the world familiar to her!”

Gandalf nodded, “Oh yes, in a world where you were a dog and she a mortal woman, very clever. That path was never welcomed to you, merely I was forced to send you there to retrieve our young Miss Pear here.”

He looked to you in your slow chew looking between them making Thranduil sigh and ask, “Meaning what exactly?”

Gandalf, “Meaning, the Company is trapped inside with Smaug until Miss Pear can free them.”

Gently you set down your silverware and lifted your wine glass for a sip as Thorin said, “That is not possible! I watched him fall!”

Gandalf turned his gaze to you when your head tilted to the sight through the window behind a servant along the wall, the moon sinking back down the way it should have been rising from making him smirk while Thranduil followed your gaze. The Wizard asked, “Another who can witness the phenomena. My point entirely.”

“The moon just-,” your finger motioned down in a loop making Thranduil look to the window unaware of any change and back to Gandalf as he said, “Those who travel within a mile of that mountain appear to be trapped in an endless hour. Thorin, your kin are still waiting for you in the deepest halls of that keep, unaware of your absence for three months.”

Thorin’s head shook and he said, “That is not-,”

“Oh we’ve stepped on so many butterflies,” you said smoothing your fingers over your face, “They’re stuck in a time loop then?”

Legolas, “This is common in your world?”

“In stories, yes,”

Thorin asked, “I am confused, why then bring Bunnanunê,” Lowering his staff Gandalf in a bright flash of light sent off a ball of lightning straight for you and the Kings shot up to their feet watching you vanished from your seat for a few moments was wreathed in the sparks causing it no damage.

“How would you like it if I blasted you with sparks, you old-,” Loudly gasping you peered on your toes above the back of Legolas’ chair pointing at Gandalf, “You were the badger!”

To himself he chuckled and walked towards you with his empty palm extended, “I would not like it very much, nor would I be able to evade such an attack as you had.” Back to your chair he led you easing it out and in again for you allowing the again seated trio to look you over as he continued, “Miss Pear is a another kind of warrior, who is far more skilled than I for this task.” Far from explaining your lightning like speed, an evasion that none of the Elves had seen you until Gandalf had lured you out with his question.

Deeply you sighed saying as Gandalf strolled around the table again, “It’s just the one dragon?”

Gandalf, “Just the one.”

Lifting your fork and knife you got to slicing off another piece of your salad confusing the men as to what you were thinking.

@himoverflowers​, @theincaprincess​, @aspiringtranslator​, @sweeticedtea​, @ggbbhehe4455, @thegreyberet​, @patanghill17​, @jesgisborne​, @curvestrology​, @alishlieb​, @jogregor​, @armitageadoration​, @fizzyxcustard​, @here2have-fun​, @lilith15000​, @marvels-ghost​, @catthefearless​, @imjusthereforthereads​, @c-s-stars​, @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​, @mariannetora​, @shesakillerkween

Hobbit/LotR – @abiwim​, @jotink78​, @pastelhexmaniac​

x Thorin – @evyiione​, @deepestfirefun​, @queenoferebor​

Pt 2

[the-headbop-wraith]

3 _ 43 _ Rekindling

  As ever when all was well and right the garage was a cacophony of sounds, from hydraulics humming off the rotary lifts and power drills, to the squeal of impact wrenches. Each car port had one vehicle tended to, with a technician toiling away with the task of repairing or renovating an assigned vehicle. Outside, the carport had more automobiles parked up with numbers slipped onto dashboards.

 On the work floor, Uncle Lance was lending an extra pair of arms to the diagnostic work of a utility van, a lot more teched out than his usual forte of labor. However, a tech savvy guy was left to the task of breezing through the more specialized work of the Bluetooth incorporated hardware. This was not the issue it was brought in for, but double-checking the software was procedural. The undercarriage of the vehicle needed a total overhaul and realignment, a time-consuming task.

  Familiar barking rang through the garage.

“Gimmie a moment,” he grunted, to the operator in the passenger seat. He moved back from the open driver side of the van and cast his view across the open floor of the garage. There he was, a black and white streak trotting around supply carts, head held high like he carried an important purpose. In tow was Vivi, momentarily preoccupied by the phone in her hand, and some sort of satchel was draped over her shoulder.

 “A bit early, are yu?” he posed. Lance took the end of the rag pinned to his pro-wrestler belt and rubbed some of the grim off his fingers.

 “Work rooms locked,” Vivi replied. “Is he in today?”

 “Course.” Lance nodded toward the direction of his office. “Shouldn’t be too long, ‘e’s meetin’ with a ‘‘client’’.” He did air quotes.

 “Ooh,” Vivi groaned. They moved off the work field and relocated to the wall, beside where empty boxes from parts were stacked. “How do they keep finding him?”

 Uncle Lance shrugged. “People post them pics to ‘em nosey sites, and they git the info where’n he works. Ye’know, that societal medium thing.”

 “Social media?”

 Mystery yipped, frowning behind his spectacles. This was very tiresome, tedious, and tumdum.

 “Whatever ya call it. Nuisance, they are – dragging him off work.” Lance grumbled under his breath some phrase, which might’ve been a curse or a Curse. “Think they’re them first to come by, offerin’ this biggest, best deal. Arthur could git ah’lot done with them gadgets, but I understand his privacy is important.”

 Vivi set the satchel down on one of the boxes, and looked the way to the doors to Uncle Lance’s office. “It’s not so much the anonymity he wants, but the builds and designs… they’re not, how do I say? General public applicable.”

 “Applicable-micable,” Lance mumbled.

 “Even the housing for the collar to shoulder hookup is specialized.” Vivi leaned over and rubbed Mystery’s head. “Eventually, he might try for a patent, but the models… even the college is thirsting over the incorporation. Anyway, it’s his business.”

 Lance took a deep breath and sighed. “Yer right. Pisses me off still, need tu get a sign out there. Pisses me off, ‘ee’s too nice.”

 Vivi leaned up rummaged through the satchel, revealing bags with containers. She selected a small box and handed it over. “You seem more, um… gruff than usual. Everything okay?”

 Lance popped the lid and examined the small treat within. “We’re backlogged fer parts, work is comin’ through, and I got fancy suits in mah office tryin’ be clever. An’ I gotta get through the client list, before thay start callin’ me.” When Arthur strolled over, he raised up the little food box. An unspoken gesture fortifying break.

 “I can work some over time,” Arthur began. His arm was not attached. “An hour or something, just to get some of these vehicles prepped for the morning shift.” Lance whipped around to face him fully and squared up his shoulders.

 “Arthur. When five o’clock rolls around, the doors close and the shift winds down.” He waved the food box like a school teacher threatening their student with the ruler, and probably a firm algebra lesson. “No one, and no one ever built a better car while exhausted.”

 Arthur rolled his eyes, “But—”

 “I dun car with how enthused yu are, there’s a chasm in the ground to distinguish between work and recharge time. Your brains a battery, and batteries need recharge – or they get replaced. Aw’right?” Lance jabbed at Arthur’s chest, getting the point across the way Lance did when he was cross. “Down time is still werk, yu werk hard restin’. It’s important.”

 Arthur droned out, “Yus, Uncle Lance.”

 Vivi swooped in and threw an arm around Arthur’s shoulders. “And that’s why we’re gatherin’ at my place. Nothing but ‘no doing’ going on there. No cars, or parts, or pieces to tinker with.” Arthur nearly tumbled but Vivi kept him upright. “Complete bores-ville.”

 A thin smile tugged at Arthur’s cheeks. “Whatever you say.”

 Lance nodded, as if he won an argument – which he probably did. “Yu see to that.” He was about to move away, but leaned back toward the two. “Ah, and no work on the van, either.” Then, he took his leave.

 Arthur stuttered and quivered as his Uncle left. “But… the tools need to be reconditioned, or they might turn against it!” Vivi pulled him by the collar, hauling him off. On the way, she grabbed the satchel off the boxes.

 “You can still look at it. They did a fine job, you’ll never know it was crushed once they get the paint redone—”

 A distant roar bellowed out from the owner’s office, “WHAT?!”

 “Exaggeration!” Vivi hooted back. “C’mon Art, nourishment awaits!”

 Arthur hadn’t gotten his feet squared off or organized, he skipped on his heel as she dragged him across the work room. “Whoa, hold up! Vi! Mercy! Mercy!”

 The Mystery Skulls van sat at the back of Kingsman Mechanics, the location used primarily by delivery and staff parking. In the lead paced Mystery, with Vivi and the screaming Arthur trailing. Once Arthur spied the vehicle with its refurbished side, he magically regained his balance and began leading Vivi by her sweater. He had stars in his eyes, for once.

 “Oh wow, you can hardly tell it was crushed.” Arthur’s phone chimed, and when he stopped dragging the blue girl to fish the device from his vest pocket to check the screen. The message read:

 “WHAT?!??!?!?!?!?!?”

 Arthur coughed and texted back.

 Beside the van, Vivi raised the hand holding the packages. “I dunno, it might be more seamless when we get the new paint done.” She posed beside the side, arms flung high. “I can’t wait to see the design.”

 Arthur cringed down, with a grin. He slipped the phone back into its pocket. “Yeah, can’t wait to show off the new colors. Hmm.” He looked aside.

 Off and away from the two, Mystery was sniffing around the parking lot. Once he gave the clear, he barked and rejoined his colleagues.

 “And look, we got windows in the back now.” Vivi escorted Arthur to the aforementioned updates, showing the windows. “Surprise!”

 Arthur gaped. “Oh, awesome. Now we can witness the angry mob chasing us out of town.”

 Vivi waved a finger. “Don’t forget, the creepy monsters we can’t deal with. Won’t that be fun?”

 “Ooh-dles.” The back doors swept open, and Arthur retreated back five steps.

 Lewis leaned out. “You guys are really loud.”

 Arthur shuffled over to the doors and examined the fitted panel. “One way?”

 “And reinforced,” Vivi chimed. She handed off the satchel to Lewis. “Is it okay?”

 Arthur shrugged. “I’m not opposed to it. Hey Lew.”

 “Sup.”

 Inside the van and along both walls laid long, flat boxes. The label read industrial shelving, and one was already opened. Metal bars and packing sheets littered the floor. On the end of one box, Lewis set out the food cartons from the package.

 “I’m gunna miss the cuvees,” Arthur mentioned. Vivi was busy wiping his hand off with a rag and some ninety-nine, even though he didn’t work on the floor since his meeting.

 “Yeah,” she hummed. “But we lost inventory, and stuff would get crammed in the back and forgotten. We never cleaned them.”

 He toed one of the boxes with his sneaker. “I’ll modify these, so nothing goes flying off while you’re driving.” Lewis had relocated to the front seat and snorted, a little flame curled off his shoulder. “Someone did bring in catering today. You didn’t have to come abduct me.”

 Vivi was already digging in, eating some chicken with sauce. “I wanted to show off the van. And we had to dump it off anyway, so you can load up supplies.” She pulled over the portable ice chest and popped the lid. “You gunna be able to do that on your own?”

 There was no sound, but Arthur did catch the faint movement of Lewis as he glanced over the bench seat. “Yeah, I’ll be good. I didn’t feel like wearing it today.” He leaned over and snagged a drink from the cooler, the ice was melting and the canister damp. “I was replacing a servo and Gally, bless his hamster instincts, decided to gnaw through the circuit board.”

 Vivi nearly choked. “He what?! Is he okay?” Mystery had curled up beside her, and raised his head, horrified. “He’s usually such a good helper.”

 “Yeah. I must’ve fucked up the current or something. He hates that.”

 Mystery rested his chin back onto his paws. Yeah, that sucks. Arthur made that mistake once before, and it turned Galahad into a round fluff.

 While they ate, Vivi pulled out a notepad and wrote out what equipment they could use tonight. Their meetup wasn’t directly off the work lane, there would be movies and not much else going on but ignoring the movies – or complaining how unrealistic the movies were. For the most part, she wanted to discuss more work centered stuff, and perhaps do something about the cluttered closet that held predominately junk stuff. She insisted on using the words ‘stuff’ and ‘things’ without remorse.

 There was likewise a separate list for movies they could stream or buy, or pirate.

 “You can put more down,” Arthur mentioned, as he tried to work through the veggies someone insisted he have. “Uncle’ll help me. He’ll be working late tonight.”

 “Lemme get this straight,” Lewis spoke, “he won’t let you work overtime, but he will.”

 “It’s his business. He can do whatever he wants,” Arthur retorted. “And people had better not start seeing your spooky shadow ‘round. We get enough problems with jackasses showing up trying to get copycrap over my spec designs, I don’t want Spectral Seekers showin’ up, harassing Uncle Lance for a crummy show.”

 Lewis leaned back over the bench seat. “I was bored, okay?”

 “Bored?!” Arthur spat. “Was that today, or when—”

 Mystery barked.

 “Art! It’ll be fine,” Vivi proclaimed. “That was one time, we figured it out. After this, we’re goin’ straight back to my place to set up. Cool?”

 Arthur made a face and deflated. He poked at his food and sipped his drink, but just a bit. He avoided raising his eyes or checking the front of the van. “Hmm. Yeah. We’ll just… the guys need to stay focused.”

 Lewis hunched down in his seat. “I wasn’t tryin’ to be a ‘presence’, it’s hard being all cooped up.”

 Arthur fixed his legs, readjusting them along with his hunched posture. “Sure. I get that.”

 Once everyone got settled, or stewing, Vivi relaxed and resumed poking at a salad. That wasn’t too bad, but she wondered if it was always like this, or when this all started. They were talking again, the progress was slow but any amount she appreciated. Then again, maybe it wasn’t them. Maybe it was… her.

 Before the break could be called a success, Vivi helped Arthur bring down one of the boxes packed with equipment and stowed it in the van. The spare bike was stashed in the van, and Lewis helped Vivi pull her eco-friendly, short distance transport out before he evaporated in a plume of flames. Likely, to attach himself to the flashlight stored in the side pocket of her backpack. She clicked on the light to confirm for Arthur, Lewis wasn’t hanging around.

 “Let me know if you’re running late or anything comes up,” she stated, while Arthur double checked that the van was secure and latched tight.

 “I’ll remember,” Arthur replied. They said farewells, and he returned to the garage of Kingsman Mechanics, with Mystery by his side.

 The remainder of Arthur’s shift whirred by in a steady momentum, cranking out the vehicles on his roaster. It was a little before closing when he scrawled out the end time of his last assignment, on the task chalkboard on the work floor wall. He might actually make it to Vivi’s before she began with the texting. It’d be fun to wait outside and just hang out, until the first one chimed off.

 Following one brief shower, Arthur got busy in his work room packing some fresh clothing for the next day. A separate bag sat reserved for parts, if he got around to the easier aspects to his arm and trying out the new cooling system – it was rather clunky and added weight – though, keeping the circuits at a controlled temperature kept rotors from overheating. A vent would be a nice benefit, but he needed a sealed compartment; a difficult feat in a multisegmented apparatus.

 While Arthur went around the work room browsing for items he needed, Mystery was satisfied with dozing on the couch. It was only when Arthur hauled out the travel cage for Galahad, that spurred interest from Mystery. Arthur went to the hamster terrarium and located his caramel colored companion in his nest.

 “Well get this stuff downstairs and get that flatcart,” Arthur explained.

 Mystery was already nosing the door to the room open. He glanced back at Arthur, ear twitching. You got that okay?

 “Lead the way.” He claimed the terrarium under his one arm and went with Mystery, to the ground floor.

 The lights around the corner blazed bright, but the sounds from the work floor approached subdued. By now it was well past five, and shutters barred out noises from the open road across from the carport. He hardly saw anyone as he went for a flat cart parked by supplies. Mystery hopped onto the panel and rode it, while Arthur guided it back to the corridor. Loading up his gear was a piece of cake, and he was making good time. He’d park the flatbed cart by the employee access and bring the van around, and leave the cart in parts for whoever needed it next.

 Only a last cluster of technicians remained in the garage, upon his departure. A few closing out some diagnostics or working with one of the trainees. Arthur exited through the back and locked the employee access. The last order of business was a quick text to Uncle, reminding him to lock the deadbolt.

 Score! No messages from Vivi, yet.

 __

 It was almost a shock for Arthur when he arrived at the door to the apartment, and it opened to reveal Vivi. He shouldn’t really be surprised, why would someone not ‘living’ in her apartment answer the door. The fragrance of sugar and popcorn swept out.

 “Holy cakes, I was about to start texting,” she cheered. “Did Uncle Lance kick you out?”

 “Naw,” Arthur grinned. Mystery nudged the back of his legs. “Did you need any help setting up?” He and Vivi had to give space for Mystery, the dog shoved his way on through and went straight for the kitchen. “More important, do you ever feed him?”

 Vivi sighed. She was already gathering up Arthur’s bags. “He had a whole chicken today.”

 Arthur grabbed the terrarium and stood, the cage nestled under his arm. The Plexiglas box wasn’t heavy nor cumbersome, even so, he lingered at the threshold watching as Vivi retreated within. He glanced away and toed at the edge of the door jam. When he raised his gaze, Vivi was still there and quiet, a patient smile tugging the edge of her lips. She nodded toward the living room.

 His feet shuffled across the entry. Noises came from within, the sort you’d expect to curl forth from a kitchen. “A whole chicken? Wow. Isn’t that something.” The sounds didn’t pause or hush a bit, as he scooted through the corridor.

 Finally, he poked his head into the kitchen. “Are you doing spicey stuff?”

 As expected, Lewis was at the stove with a pot and spatula looking guilty. “No?”

 “I’m gunna start sneezing.”

 Lewis shrugged. “It’ll clear up your allergies.”

 “I don’t have allergies.”

 Vivi relocated to the living area to deposit Arthur’s gear, and swung back. She was dressed casually, not her typical skirt or sweater, but her clothing was certainly on the poofy side, and clearly comfy. “Are you gonna start arguing again?”

 Woof?

 “We’re not arguing,” Lewis defended, swinging the spatula.

 “This is a conversation,” Arthur affirmed. He went ahead and followed Vivi. He set Galahad’s terrarium under the end table in the corner of the room and popped the lid.

 “Whatever you call it, I’m not refereeing.”

 Lewis cackled. “Purge initiated.”

 Off center of Vivi’s living area, the other end table was situated with a television on top, with wires hooked from it to the laptop sitting on the floor. In the corridor to the bedroom, the closet door was open and some of the boxes within left on the floor. The door was pulled back fully, permitting Arthur to view some of the items left out of containment, wedged on the shelves within. He shuddered.

 A cacophony of popping erupted from within the kitchen, and Lewis swished around the large pot upon the burner. “Wanna get a movie going, and we can start looking through the stuff?” he proposed. “I did some homemade candy.”

 “Mmm!” Vivi hummed. “These gummies are really ugly, but they’re tasty.”

 “That’s what happens when you don’t use molds.” Lewis brought up a plate with wax paper, and little colorful globs topped. They were ugly as heck, Arthur noted. In a large bowl, Lewis poured out a whole kettle of corn from the pot he was using. The fluffy kernels were still glistening with melted sugar, steam shimmered across the lumpy peak.

 Likewise on the counter, there sat two fire extinguishers. Arthur supposed they could pack one or both in the van. He wondered if she bought both, or if one came with the apartment.

 “Arthur.” He shook his head and looked to Vivi. “Can you get a movie going? I gotta boot up my laptop.”

 The couch was already dressed with blankets and extra pillows. It kind of reminded him of the old times, like nothing changed. He took his seat beside the chair arm, near where he put Galahad’s travel cage. He took the ball of fluff from his little nest and set him up on the back of the couch. Mystery thundered onto the couch and gave the hamster a close look over.

 Opening credits ended for the introduction, and the movie began. Vivi planted herself beside Mystery, and Lewis was last to join with the bowl of popcorn and plate of gooies. Vivi took a handful of popcorn and started eating, along with one of those gooey treats from the plate now set on the back of the couch. Galahad was wheeling his way over, but Mystery lay his head in the way.

 “I was thinking,” she said, and swallowed. Lewis left the popcorn in her care and revisited the kitchen. “We’ll be off on another assignment, and doing whatever cases we want on the way. But we have all this stuff, and it’s kind of starting to pile up.”

 “Right,” Arthur muttered. “You could just dump it off on Duet.” He took the bowl she passed and tried the popcorn. It was good, salty and sweet. Lewis came back over and handed off some drinks to him and Vivi. “Uh, thanks.”

 “Don’t you think I tried?” Vivi licked her fingers and went to typing on the laptop. “We get duplicates and we got fake crap, some of it is legit. Yeah Lew?”

 He nodded. “Some of it gives me the heebie-jeebies. Don’t like that.”

 “I’ve been checking some blogs and people,” Vivi went on, tucking the unopened bottle beside her hip. “I have harmless crud, that’d make for good props for research. That stuff can go to whoever, but Duet doesn’t want duplicates or reproductions.”

 Arthur popped the cap to his beverage and took a sip. “I’ll leave that to you bunch then. I didn’t want much to do with it then, and not really much now.”

 “That’s cool,” Vivi assured, with a smile. “You had some heavy run-ins with some of this crap, and I don’t blame you.” She plopped the laptop onto Arthur’s lap and got off the couch.

 A timer went off, and Lewis made his way over to the kitchen. “Should be good to say farewell, though? Eh, Art?”

 “Yeah.” He reached over to the popcorn bowl and grabbed a kernel, which he delivered to the hamster sitting on Mystery’s head. “No goo junk,” he commanded. “We don’t want to give Mystery a haircut, ‘cuz of some gummy stuff.” Mystery delivered and expression of utter petrification.

 Then it hit Arthur, while Vivi was pulling out a plastic crate from within the closet. “Shit. I forgot the equipment.”

 “Que s’eso?”

 “The equipment.” Arthur took the plate of small, browned marshmallow meringues Lewis handed over. “Um, I was supposed to finalize it. Make sure I’ve got it all stabilized and tuned.” He and Lewis held a painfully long stare. “I wasn’t planning on testing that crap on you. Though, it’d certify if my handywork was thorough.”

 “No.”

 Vivi set the crate down on the floor and browsed through a few clay figures, among them bundled tissue paper and bubble wrap. “That’s fine, we’ll get to that another day.”

 Arthur sucked in some air beside his teeth. “Meh. It was my thing to do, while you guys did yours. Fuck.” He sat a moment, debating if there was something else he could do if he wasn’t preoccupied with his go to task. There was the tinkering work on his arm, but he recalled some of the tools for that was left in the boxes he meant to pack. Aside from eating, which he now was not in the mood for, he didn’t have much else to do but watch bad movies.

 “It’s not late, I can swing over and grab ‘em.”

 “Or you could just let it go, and have a weekend to relax,” Vivi indicated. She leaned on the couch beside his legs. “I wasn’t serious with getting a head start on this, so that stuff can wait. Right?”

 Lewis took the plate of gummies off the couch back, before Galahad could crawl into them. “Is this gunna be a bother for you all evening?”

 Arthur sighed. “Yeah. Threw off my groove and everything.” He pouted. “It won’t take any time at all. Zoom over and back. It’s not a lot to gather up either, I don’t wanna put it off though.”

 Vivi stood up. “Fine. I’m not like, your other boss or anything.” She tried the meringue thing. “Are these burnt?”

 “They fucking are,” Lewis rasped.

 “But they’re good anyway. I love burnt marshmallows.”

 “Not helping.” Lewis pointed down at Arthur. “I’m going with.”

 “Why?” both Arthur and Vivi exclaimed. Mystery woofed. Lewis looked from Vivi to Arthur.

 “To… help? Is there… a reason why I shouldn’t?”

 Vivi stuttered, “No – not… it’s up to Arthur.”

 All up to him. Yay. Arthur set the laptop aside and got off the couch. “Sure, fine, it’s cool. Let’s go so we can get back.” He went to the entry way, twirling intermittently through his strides to call, “Keep an eye on Gally, huh? I want him eating normal hamster things.” Lewis nearly ran into him on their way down the corridor.

 They were already headed out the door, when Vivi answered, “He’ll be good— Gally! Mystery! Not the gummies! No!”

  __

 By all appearances, the garage was vacant of life and sat with impenetrable silence, scarcely an aura of habitation. Vehicles huddled abandoned, the tools cold and still at long last following a brutal and arduous workday. Upon one soldering table stood a partially drained Styrofoam cup, a stray draft teased a greasy rag hung over the handlebar of a flat cart. Light flickered over the listless machinery, in the deepest reaches of the shop strange shadows carved burrows into deserted spaces. Aside from those minute scraps of animation, nothing stirred within Kingsman Mechanics. However, appearances are deceitful.

 The small access doorway for shipments betrayed the established stillness. The knob twisted one way slowly, then the other gradually, a faint tick-tick twittered from the key chamber. Tick-tick… tick! The dead bolt swept sideways with genuine dedication, and the latch barked loose.

 A brief reprieve followed, insisting that nothing was amiss and all was complacent, ordinary, and drab. Then, the faithful metal panel eased an inch, enough to allow a swollen lump to squeeze through. The squishy bulb observed the blanket of unremarkable matter. Off from the doorway, the blocky stacks of supplies and barren pallets, a tarp and some other obscure items, industrial shelving and other blocky shapes.

 Through the doorway extended a small cylinder, and with a click the glaring slate of light glittered through the interior room, skewering the gloom and incriminating the present occupants. Hubcaps, a flatbed cart, opened boxes and packing materials strewn on the floor. Cold metal sleeping in the dark, oblivious boxes, and not a conscious soul in sight.

 The vague shape eased through the slither of doorway and let the panel whisper shut at their back. Once within fully, they doused the light and let their eyes adjust to the swollen murk. With practiced grace they moved from delivery, and inched onto the work floor. Some dull glow did enter through the front windows of Kingsman Mechanics, illuminating the barest of outlines upon workstations and patient vehicles. They moved through the garage meticulously, pausing only to listen and grasp their environment through hearing, and their intuition. It hadn’t failed them yet.

 Parts and easily mobile machinery were everywhere, some adding up into the thousands if packed carefully into the duffle bag slung over their arm. None of it had substantial value, only a temporary check to drop in the bucket. They followed the wall, clicking on the flashlight and capping the front to stifle the blast of light. There was no rush, if they couldn’t find it tonight, there was always next week. It would mean stake out and observe for changes, but a task amended without issue or too much delay. Better safe than sorry. Maybe the gear wasn’t here at all, and this was a waste of time. They wouldn’t know until a thorough search was launched. But all night lay ahead.

[xxxrubytuesdayxxx]

If you admit you don’t really know what’s going on...

Word Count: 2,051

Disclaimer: This is part (54) of a Choose Your Own Ending!

Start here:

“Honestly? I have zero idea which,” you admit, with an apologetic grimace. “But I don’t think it would be fair to you to keep your hopes up while he and I fool around. I’m so sorry Tae-ssi,” you tell him sadly. 

As if sad Taehyung and, once he hears the news from Tae, over-protective Jimin aren’t enough to deal with, you still have worried Jin and suspicious Namjoon to contend with as well. By the end of the week, angst-ridden Yoongi seems to have been added to the list and your roster of relaxing companions has been reduced to Hobi and an inappropriately over-affectionate Jeongguk. 

It almost comes as a relief when Big Hit haul you and the hyung-line in for a meeting pre-Run BTS. None of you but Jin and Yoongi seem to have any idea what you’re all here for, and they’re both keeping pretty silent, although Yoongi’s mood has definitely improved exponentially, so you, Hobi and Joon exchange raised eyebrows and wait impatiently for management to show up.

Turns out that they’ve decided to allow the two eldest members to date as a kind of social experiment. Hitman Bang reiterates that there’s not strictly a dating ban, but that he is strongly advising the younger members to have patience and see what the public response is to the two hyungs dating before making any hasty decisions around their private lives. You all bow your heads and thank PD-Nim rather confusedly before heading back to the dorm to get everything ready for the episode filming this evening. You notice Jin busily texting before Yoongi pulls you aside with an anxious expression on his face.

“Can you invite Mai tonight, noona?” he asks you in an undertone. “So I can introduce her to Bang PD-Nim as my girlfriend,” he adds, gruffly.

“Uh, of course!” you assure him quickly.

“Please don’t tell her though. I want it to be a surprise,” he mumbles. You smile at him encouragingly and nod your agreement. He gives you one of his little gummy smiles in thanks and heads down to the van. You message Mai happy Chuseok and let her know that, as the boys are mid-recording and can’t get back to their families for the holiday, management thought it would be nice to invite a few close people who might also not be able to get home for the holidays. “You should definitely come,” you tell her. “It will be cool to see you and the boys miss you. Also wear something cute,” you add, refusing to explain further when she presses you.

Unfortunately nobody warned you that the boys were going to be dressed up in public-school boy uniforms with a distinct military air, or that the look would suit Jeongguk so perfectly. You try to ignore him, but it’s impossible, and you and he end up exchanging heated glances every time management look the other way. Attempting to escape, you head for Mai, but Jeongguk deliberately catches your wrist as you walk over. 

“Do I look cute?” he asks you, coquettishly. 

“Ne. You’re the sexiest school boy I’ve ever seen,” you murmur in his ear, pretending to adjust his bangs. He smiles coyly, lowers his lashes and bites his lip, playing along. Unfortunately Mai doesn’t miss the exchange.

“That is oh-so-gross and probably illegal,” she whispers when you join her. It takes you a second to realize that she heard you and Jeongguk.

“Come on, it wasn’t that bad,” you defend yourself. “It’s not like he’s actually a school boy or anything.” 

“No,” she reiterates. “It’s just gross and tacky. Why would you flaunt that whole noona thing? Besides, what if management heard you?!” she hisses.

“Okay, fine. Maybe you’re right,” you admit begrudgingly. “But he does look hot in that outfit and anyway it wasn’t even my idea.”

“You’re just benefitting from the kink, huh?” provokes Yoongi. You roll your eyes at him to try and cover for the veracity of his statement, then head over to the rest of the staff to assist with preparations.

Management and staff leave once filming is complete and the boys are free to relax and have a meal, prepared by Jin and some drinks, courtesy of Yoongi’s cocktail-making skills. Mai accepts a cocktail from her man with a smile. 

“Can you please take off the school boy uniform?” she asks him, before he can sit down. He looks down at her, smiles and then takes one of her hands and kisses her palm.

“I’ll be right back,” he promises her. She watches him leave with a smile on her lips, but when she turns back towards you and Jeongguk, her smile fades: Jeongguk has grabbed you around the waist and pulled you onto his lap so that you’re facing him, straddling his legs. As Mai watches, he starts kissing you passionately, pulling your top open to slake his thirst on your decolletage.

“Do you want me to take my school boy uniform off?” he teases, gazing up at you doe-eyed and already intoxicated from the Irish bomb cocktails he insisted Yoongi make him.

“Ani. Leave it on and come to my room,” you beg, kissing the side of his neck and completely forgetting yourself in your desire for him. You climb off his lap and pull him to his feet, desperate to get him into your bed. He grins as his hair falls into his eyes and follows you, staggering more than a little. 

You’re barely halfway there before Namjoon steps in swiftly and cuffs him.

“Enough, Jeongguk,” he tells him curtly. “And what the hell is wrong with you, noona?” he pleads. “You’re really not helping.” You look at him pleadingly, turn to look helplessly at your lover, then back to Bangtan’s leader.

“Sorry, Joon,” you mutter, begrudgingly letting go of Jeongguk’s hand and returning to the kitchen to start clearing things away.

Jeongguk drifts out to “get some water” still in his schoolboy outfit and you mouth “noraebang” to him when Namjoon is preoccupied. He winks, nods and retreats back into his room with his water, leaving poor Joon none the wiser when Kook subsequently announces that he’s ordered one of the company cars around to take him to the local singing rooms for a couple of hours.

“Whatever,” Namjoon sighs, sinking onto the couch and flicking through the television controls to find something to watch. If he smells a rat when you slip out half an hour later, he chooses to ignore it in the name of getting some peace and quiet.

You sign in at your local noraebang and pay for your own room, chatting amiably to the hostess at the counter. She knows both you and Jeongguk as you regularly use the booths, and she knows you work for Big Hit but doesn’t know exactly what your job entails, so she doesn’t think anything of you both turning up separately on the same evening. You surreptitiously note that one or two of the surveillance screens behind her are blank, and you incline your head to ask her to turn your camera off as well, slipping her the extra payment the lounge accepts for the privacy privilege that makes them popular with idols. She nods at the unspoken request, flips a switch causing another screen to display static and leads you to an empty, numbered booth. You sit down with a sigh and text Jeongguk to let him know you’re there. Your phone vibrates almost instantly, displaying a text with just a number on it. You gather up your microphone and clutch and pop out into the corridor to slip into his private, unmonitored booth. 

He’s mid-song when you arrive, but he smiles at you and inclines his head to take a seat, which you do, after glancing at his playlist to make sure he’s got a few songs lined up to cover for your assignation. You slide along the velvet-covered bench to lay your hand on his thigh and he winks at you, without missing a note. You let him keep singing, as you climb into his lap, loosen his tie and pull at his schoolboy shirt with your painted fingernails. He drops one hand from the microphone he’s singing into to cup one of your breasts. You drop your head to attach your lips to his clavicle, kissing your way up to the underside of his jaw, as your hands grope his increasingly-exposed chest, searching for his nipples.

“Unf...fuck, noona, I want you so bad!” he gasps, dropping his microphone onto the couch and pulling your head away from his throat to press his lips to yours as his song continues, forgotten, in the background. You lose no time wrenching his shirt from his trousers and getting to work on his belt buckle, leaving his tie askew across his shoulder.

“Oooh, you’re going to get a terrible karaoke score,” you tease him, palming his growing erection over his pants. He nibbles his perfect bottom lip and moans softly. “Tell you what…” you suggest, gently extricating his cock from its cotton prison and prompting another airy moan from his primed vocal chords. “Why don’t you try and get a top score for the next one? I’ll help you hit the high notes.”

“Oh please,” he scoffs. “Like I need any help.” You watch his face as he immediately regrets his cockiness, your hand slowly but firmly pumping his dick as he swallows hard. You smirk.

“I mean under normal circumstances, of course not,” you affirm. “But these will not be…” you pause to run your tongue languorously over one of his painfully-erect nipples, “normal…” sliding the pad of your finger over the slit in the tip of his cock until he gives a strangled groan and a ribbon of precum trickles forth, “circumstances.” 

“Okay, let’s get it” he murmurs, his voice breathy with desire.

“Let’s try one of your showpieces then?” you suggest, moving swiftly to type the matching digits into the keypad.

“Ohhh you bitch,” he half-laughs, half-pleads, when the title flashes up. You let him off easy for the majority of the song, just toying with his cock, stroking your fingernails along his inner thighs and sating yourself on his dark nipples as you wait impatiently for his vocal solo. The bridge fades into screen-Jeongguk’s vocal as you wrap your lips around his swollen, quivering member and let your tongue slide along his shaft. Gagging yourself with his cock, you listen in fascination as the flesh-and-blood man in front of you meshes his voice with his counterpart on the screen in a searingly passionate rendition of one of BTS’s most recognisable tunes. He barely makes it through the solo before he ejaculates straight down your willing throat, rounding out the song with considerably less vehemence, but just as much volume. You collapse, spent, in each others arms and await his score. 

“100?!” you yelp, disbelievingly. 

“Can’t do better than that,” he gloats, with an impish grin. “Now...come here!” He grabs you by the waist, flings you onto the couch and climbs between your legs, where he insists on riding out the remainder of his orgasm until you’re shaking and screaming for mercy. Once you’re done, you clean yourselves and the booth up, finish your set and then head down to reception together, intending to claim you had just bumped into each other in the building. Only the look on the hostess’s face stops you dead in your tracks. You blush, Jeongguk blushes and you all avoid each others’ eyes. The hostess opens her mouth to say something, changes her mind, closes her mouth and smiles at you both expectantly: “Oh, you guys ran into each other after all!” she comments a little too brightly. You give her a bemused look, knowing the game is up and hoping to just salvage the situation.

“You peeked, didn’t you?” you ask her flatly. She nods guiltily.

“I’m sorry, unnie!” she squeals.

“Can I have the tapes?” you ask her, wryly. She nods again, mouthing further apologies to Jeongguk, whose cheeks are still flaming, as she removes the tapes from the machine and hands them to you with a small bow. You take them with a muttered ‘gamsahamnida’, before you and Jeongguk make your escape, praying Namjoon won’t put two and two together when you return.

THE END

[angelicthor]

billion dollar man - part 10

pairing: tony stark x reader

summary:  after mounting bills and debt cause you to look at alternative means of making money, you’re thrown into a whole different kind of life when one of the most famous billionaires on the block offers to be your sugar daddy, of course in exchange for a different from of payment. non-superhero au.

warnings/genre: +18 only, sugarbaby/daddy relationship, smut: daddy kink, slight dom!tony, slight angst, fluff

masterlist | billion dollar man masterlist

a/n: please validate me let me know what you think! :) 

You and Tony crashed through his front door, lips locked in a passionate kiss as you tore the clothes from each other’s bodies, leaving a trail behind you as you made your way to the bedroom. How you made it back to Tony’s penthouse was a mystery to you, the pair of you were nearly buzzing with arousal by the time you exited the elevator, the car ride near torture as Tony’s hand wandered up your thigh and stroked your pussy through your panties, smirking at you as you bit down on your lip to stop yourself from moaning.

By the time you made it to the stairs, you were in nothing but your brand-new underwear courtesy of Nat, Tony’s impatience getting the best of him as he hoisted you up, wrapping your thighs around his waist as he flew up the stairs and into his room, smiling into your neck at the squeal you let out at the abrupt action.

Throwing you down on the mattress, Tony stood at the end of the bed, dark eyes roaming over your exposed body, lingering on the rapid rise and fall of your chest before trailing down to your legs, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip as you slowly let your legs part, his hands flying down to his belt - his shirt already discarded somewhere downstairs - the clinking sound sending a shiver down your spine.

Pushing his trousers down his legs, Tony quickly stepped out of them, crawling over you and caging your head between his arms as he held himself above you. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear before slowly lowering his lips to yours in a gentle kiss, moaning as your hands threaded through his hair, lightly tugging at the strands and grinning into the kiss when his hips rolled into yours in response.

Pinning your hands above your head, Tony’s lips attached themselves to your neck, nipping at the skin when you tilted your head back and peppered kisses down the column of your throat and to the top of your breasts that were still encased in lace and silk. Letting out a strangled groan, Tony buried his face in the valley of your breasts, releasing your wrists to cup the globes of flesh in his hands, hardened nipples peaking through the silky cups.

“God you’re so fuckin’ gorgeous, drive me insane,” Tony moaned against your skin, hardened length grinding against your core as he littered your chest with lavish kisses.

Tony’s hands reverently traced over the contours of your body, calloused skin a striking contrast against the soft curves of your body. Taking advantage of your arched back, Tony quickly unclasped your bra, pulling the garment from your body, muttered curses falling from his lips as his eyes landed on your bare chest.

Unable to take anymore, your hand gripped Tony’s cock through his boxers, relishing in the hiss it drew from him and smirking at the reaction it drew from him. “Tony, please,” You whined, breath hitching when you felt his fingertips trailing along your pantie-covered core, your wetness darkening the baby blue silk.

“Patience babygirl.”

You were about to tell him where he could shove his patience when you felt his fingers hook under the hem of your panties, dragging the material down yours legs and throwing them to the side before he tugged his own boxers off, leaving you both bare and wanting.

Seizing your leg with a bruising force, Tony hitched your thigh over his waist, his cock gliding through your glistening lips about with every roll of his hips, the swollen head nudging against your sensitive clit with every movement as he coated himself in your arousal.

A smug smirk pulled at Tony’s lips as he watched as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, breathy cries falling from your lips as your nails dug into his shoulders, the touch you had been so desperate for a welcome relief which only served to make you hungrier for the man above you. You tried in vain to get Tony to fuck you, writhing beneath him as your hips rose from the bed in an attempt to entice his cock into you.

Chuckling darkly at your pitiful effort to get him to fuck you, Tony gripped the base of his cock, slowly easing his head into your awaiting heat, a sharp gasp escaping through clenched teeth as your silky walls wrapped around him, his lips once again attacking your neck as you threw your head back against the pillow, mouth falling open in a silent scream as Tony pushed into you, his hips finally coming to a stop as they were pressed against yours.

Burrowing his head in the crook of your neck, a litany of curses fell from his lips as you both adjusted to the feeling, the strain in his voice causing your cunt to clench around him, Tony’s cock throbbing in response. Taking your wrists, he pinned your hands above your head, lifting himself up as he tentatively thrust into you, grinning at the sob that tore from your throat at the action.

“Tony – Daddy please, please!” You begged wantonly, not caring in the slightest how desperate you sounded.

“Don’t worry pretty baby,” Tony gritted out, hips rhythmically rolling into yours, his eyes glazing over with lust as he watched your face contort with pleasure, “Daddy’s got you.”

The room was filled with the wet sounds of your bodies smacking against each other, your moans mixing with the low growls rumbling from Tony’s chest, your back arching of the bed and your toes curling as the tip of Tony’s cock repeatedly rubbed against your g-spot.

Biting down on his lower lip, Tony hitched your thigh higher on his hip as he thrust harder into you, “You know babygirl, you’d look so fucking good all tied up. Completely vulnerable, unable to move, completely at my fucking mercy.”

You shuddered at the idea, Tony’s words sending a shot of arousal through your body as you bucked your hips up into his. “Oh, you like that idea huh? Such a dirty fucking girl. God, I’d fucking ruin you, you wouldn’t walk for days.”

Whimpering you fought against Tony’s grip on your wrists, needing to hold onto something as you neared your end, “God, so close. So fucking close, Tony please.”

Releasing your hands, Tony held your body tight against his as his hips lost their rhythm, letting out a guttural groan as your raked your nails down his back, your climax hitting you hard as your body convulsed beneath him, your cunt quivering around Tony’s sensitive cock with your release before his hips snapped into yours one final time, body tensing as his cum painted your walls, a guttural groan falling from his lips before he collapsed at your side.

You both lay panting, thoroughly worn out from your previous activities as you cuddled into his side, Tony’s arm wrapping firmly around your shoulders as he pressed a kiss to your sweat-slicked forehead.

When your racing heart had somewhat returned to its regular pace, you turned onto your stomach, crossing your arms on Tony’s chest and resting your head there, watching the man with an arched brow as he propped his head up on his bent arm.

Noticing your expectant expression, Tony shot you a quizzical look as he tried to figure out what you were trying to get at, “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Tony’s confusion only grew as he watched your curious gaze melt away to a sinister smirk, “So you wanna tie me up, huh?”

Shaking his head, Tony let out a boisterous laugh as he matched your grin. “You have no idea what I want to do to you Gorgeous.”

“Likewise, Daddy.”

 Letting out a tortured groan, Tony lightly trailed his finger down your cheek and hooked it under your chin, lifting your face to his, “What am I going to do with you?”

“Whatever you want Mr. Stark,” You whispered against his lips before pressing your lips against his, his hand cradling your neck as you tenderly explored each other’s mouths, the easy caresses a complete contrast to what had transpired only moments before making your head spin.

Slowly pulling away, Tony kept you close to him as his eyes fluttered open, an easy smile on his lips that you couldn’t help but mirror. “Do you want to talk about today? You don’t have to but I’m here if you need me, you know that right?”

Tony’s smile grew at your words and he moved to grip your hand, pressing a kiss to the palm before he entwined your fingers together, resting them on his chest over his heart. “I know darlin’ but I don’t think I’m up to that right now – tell me about your day, did you have fun with Nat?”

You understood perfectly that Tony didn’t want to share what happened yet, he would when he was ready, you couldn’t expect everything to change after one session it would take time.  Knowing he wanted to change the subject you told him all about your day with Natasha, the lunch you had together, the new designs she was working on, the plans you had made to go shopping later in the week, and her upcoming birthday party. 

Whilst you spoke Tony’s hand had not once strayed from where it was stroking up and down on your exposed back, rolling his eyes when you told him how much planning Nat was putting into her birthday. You two spoke about the trivialities of your day until your eyelids began to droop, sleep pulling you under as you passed out curled up against Tony.

You woke a few hours later after your nap hungry and cold as your reached out to Tony, finding his side of the bed empty as you opened your bleary eyes. Knowing that he sought refuge in his lab when sleep refused to seize him, you moved to the bathroom to fresh-up, throwing on Tony’s discarded dress shirt before you plodded down the stairs.

Stopping at the kitchen, you checked the fridge for any food, rolling your eyes when you saw its bare contents. Pulling your phone out of the breast pocket of Tony’s shirt, calling your favourite takeout restaurant and promising them a sizeable tip if they got here fast.

Fifteen minutes later you were walking down to the lower level of Tony’s penthouse to his labs, the bag of chinese food in one hand and a couple of beers in the other. The lab was simple, multiple tables dotted around the space with various contraptions that you couldn’t even begin to explain littered about the place, you thought it looked more like a high-tech mechanics than it did a lab, but you supposed that was simply the nature of engineering.

You saw Tony hunched over one of the tables at the back, blindly reaching for one of the numerous screwdrivers sprawled out across the bench, grasping the one he needed as he fiddled with whatever was in front of him. As you approached closer to him, you could hear the faint humming that sounded remarkably like ‘shoot to thrill’ intermingled with a grunt or two whenever his project failed to cooperate.

Tony still hadn’t noticed you had entered the room and remained oblivious to your presence as you stood next to him, jumping with shock when you dropped the bag of food on the bench next to him, staring up at you with wide eyes in confusion.

“Wh-what? What are you doing down here, I thought you were asleep?”

“I was,” You shrugged, plucking cartons of food out of the bag and placing them on the table beside the two bottles of beers, “I had a nap and now I’m hungry, figured you would be too. I took a guess at what you would want, I hope you like it.”

Tony was speechless, mouth agape as he silently accepted the box from you, brows furrowing as he felt his stomach rumble at the prospect of food. Apparently, he was very hungry. You didn’t say another word as you sat down and began eating your own meal, unaware of how stunned Tony was by your actions.

“So, what are you working on?” You asked after a swig of beer, tipping the bottle to the project Tony was previously fiddling with.

“Oh, uh, it’s a prototype for a new reactor. See this disk,” Tony pointed to a small metal disc at the very centre of his work to which you nodded at, “This should give off enough electricity to power the circuit, if it works it should be able to continuously power the circuit without failure. It’s supposed to be a new clean source of energy - if I can ever get it to actually work.”

You were silent for a moment which Tony took as uninterest before you erupted with excitement, “Holy shit, that’s incredible! Could you use it to power anything bigger like buildings or cities? Oh my god, could you power New York with it?”

“I mean, hopefully. One day, it would have to be a bigger model obviously but right now I’m just trying to get this one to work.” Tony regarded you with a small smile, noting the way your eyes lit up at his explanation and the genuine interest you had, “You really are fascinated with this aren’t you?”

“Of course I am, this is incredible Tony!”

“Well the board doesn’t think so, they think it’s a waste of time given that once it’s in place there’s no real profit to be made,” Tony sighed out dejectedly, leaning back in his chair as he took a drink of his beer.

You sound of your scoff caused him to arch a brow in your direction, an amused expression crossing his face at the sight of your scrunched-up nose and curled lip, not because he found the expression adorable of course. “The board. What do the board know outside of projective numbers on a sheet? This is amazing Tony - you’re amazing.”

Leaning forward in your chair, you caught Tony off-guard when you pressed your lips against his in an affectionate kiss, slowly pulling your lips away with a grin when you saw his dazed expression. You went back to your dinner as if nothing had happened, more than content to spend the rest of your evening in Tony’s lab as he tinkered with his project.

You furrowed your brows in confusion when stood up from his chair, picking up his beer and the carton of noodles and nodding his head towards the door, “Come on, let’s go eat this upstairs and we can watch a movie or something.”

“But what about-”

“It can wait, don’t worry about it.”

Twenty minutes later you were both sprawled across the couch, Tony resting against the arm with you nestled between his legs, his arm wrapped your shoulders as you tucked your head under his, both of your gazes on the plasma screen before you, empty cartons dumped on the table as you simply relaxed.

Not taking his eyes of the screen, Tony pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead, murmuring against your temple, “Thank you.”

Smiling, you turned slightly in his arms, pecking your lips against his neck in response before snuggling further into Tony’s hold, his arms tightening in response as you both returned your attention to the movie playing. 

a/n: i don’t have a tag list but if you want alerts please follow @angelicthorwrites and turn on notifications

[jflashandclash]

Tales From Mount Othrys

Ajax: Birth of the Triple A Chimera II

           Upon hearing they were surrounded by Romans, Alabaster put on music. If Pax had to guess, this meant the Witch Boy had conceited defeat and wanted Axel and Pax to be comfortable in their last minutes. The phones lines were already down. The Romans must have cut those first while getting into position. Might as well relax to music before they cut the power too.

         “I won’t be able to hear—” Axel protested over Pax’s metal mix.

         “And they won’t either,” Alabaster hissed. His fingers rifled through the boxes, refrigeration tanks, and crates. He didn’t look down while he searched, trusting—unwisely—that Pax and Matt hadn’t boobytrapped anything.

         While Alabaster sought ingredients and pre-rendered runes, Axel tore through their supplies for weapons. He found an antique harpoon gun from Alabaster’s private stash of awesome, several lengths of electrical cord for the band equipment, actual rope, dissection equipment, spikes, and a few crowbars.

         They already counted Axel’s sword and Pax’s utility belt. There weren’t many weapons attached on the belt, but Pax had taken to hoarding smoke bombs from their band supplies and darts from the lounge. When they didn’t think Dr. Thorn was paying attention, Pax and Matt liked to throw darts at his spikes and use the smoke bombs as cover in their retreat.  

         Alabaster cursed, withdrawing his gloved hand from a Styrofoam box of dry ice. “Do they know you that you spotted them—”

         “No. I don’t think anyone saw me, or they didn’t indicate if they did. On our hopeless exit options: the back door is locked and barricaded with boxes from when Matt unloaded earlier,” Pax said. Alabaster had been frustrated that Matthias completely blocked the back exit; however, Matt’s impertinence might buy them a few more minutes of cowering and pathetic farewells. “The windows are still shut and locked since you think fresh air is evil or something—”

         “It’s to their benefit to charge us from more than one angle,” Axel said, dumping a box of artifacts on the floor. A PVC pipe rolled out beside some naked, wooden statues. Leave it to Alabaster to have porn in the form of long-dead people doing some kind of mud dance. Axel tossed the PVC pipe to Pax. Pax caught it, feeling along the holes. Not the best make-shift blow dart gun, but it would do. “If we can funnel them, their numbers mean nothing. Ajax, did you see explosives or a Bear Cat?”

         Despite everything, Pax almost dropped the pipe in his delight. His mouth slipped open and he giggled with—

         Axel paused in his rifling to glare at Pax. “The armored vehicle. The kind that rams down walls.”

         “Though, also a species in Southeast Asia that I promise to turn you into if we get out of this alive,” Alabaster muttered.

         From the name of that animal, it must have been cute. Pax tried not to tremble at the words “if we get out of this alive.”

         “No Bearcat,” Pax said. He wracked his brain. “I didn’t see any vehicles.” Which made Pax wonder if the Romans had taxied here with all of their weapons or if there was a flock of eagles perched atop the building like the most overloaded phone line. Knowing how big they were, Pax guessed the ceiling would be sagging if that were the case. “Just that Mr. Friendly Bryce and his Done-With-This-Shirt Centurion, Ari and their gang.”

         “Ari,” Axel echoed. He froze. His gaze unfocused as his tufted ears sank into his hairline. “Ari? Julian’s girlfriend? She’s supposed to be in university—unless… she came back to the military to avenge him…” His fingers sank to his chest, where a single medal—Julian’s praetorian badge—hung from a strip of leather.

         Pax hadn’t meant to say her name and hadn’t meant for Axel to put together who she was. He puffed up his cheeks and popped them. After the air left his lungs, Pax jumped to his feet, waving his hands towards the ceiling. "Axel! Earth to fucking, badass Axel! We. Here. Going to die. Not just you. We probably only have minutes left. You can feel guilty about Julian’s death on your own time!”

         Sure, Axel woke up screaming from the shame and trauma or whatever, but this wasn’t the place for Pax’s brother to stare off into the distance and soliloquize about his sins.

         Axel shook his head. The hand near his chest clenched into a fist. “Fifteen, you said?” His ears shot up as he scowled at the “weapons” in front of him. “That’s too many for me. We can’t just pick them off. They’re Romans. They’ll group and we’ll get swarmed. Alabaster?”

         Alabaster’s posture looked so rigid that he could have been a statue. A frown tugged his lip in a way Pax normally found cute. “If they were all in one area and none of us where in that area, I might be able to take them out with an elemental explosion of sorts, but I would need time that we don’t have for ritual casting and their utmost cooperation to die”

         “Cho,” Axel said. His eyes darted to the entrance of the inner laboratory. If this were anyone other than Pax’s badass, infallible brother, Pax might have guessed panic was setting in. “Think. Think. There’s too many to fight.” Axel unsheathed his sword, stalking between the narrows labyrinth of boxes in the world’s shortest bout of pacing. “We can’t channel them so their numbers don’t matter; we might get flanked if they break through a window. We don’t have enough supplies to barricade all the doors effectively and they could just set the building on fire if we did. We don’t know what individual powers they have. What did older generals do when they were outnumbered and out maneuvered?”

         The idea struck Pax so hard that he thought it must have come from some divine source. He would thank his mother (or maybe Prometheus) later. For proper dramatic effect, he snapped his fingers. “The Romans don’t know that we’re outnumbered and outmaneuvered. Not for sure.”

         Alabaster’s lip quivered. His emerald gaze danced to Pax. “Didn’t Mercedes’ reports say they weren’t sure if Axel was a monster? And me, a mad scientist?”

         “That’s it!” Axel inhaled deeply. “We’ll Zhuge Liang[1] it, or at least a variation of Empty Fort strategy.” He pivoted to their scattered band equipment. “They’re prepared for witchcraft. Not stage performance.” There was a plan formulating in Axel’s head—Pax could tell since he was no longer saying things that would incur a sand-and-soap mouth washing from their Chiich.

         Alabaster hesitated, his gloved hand squeezing the lid to the Styrofoam case. He mumbled something in Latin: a prayer, an incantation, or a final request for McDonald? Pax wasn’t sure. When his eyes opened, they blazed. “I’ll get the vat of dried ice in the back. Hecate bless us, I can’t believe I’m leaving things up to luck with you two. It’s like betting against loaded dice.”

         Pax, who hadn’t gambled much, resented this comment; he and Axel would most likely be using loaded dice. This almost not-suicidal plan and Alabaster’s cynical “hurrah” made Pax swallow. Now, they just needed to pull the plan off and have nothing go wrong, something that definitely wasn’t in their track record.  

 ***

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed! Tune in next week to see Pax’s fanfiction of the events. I hope you guys are staying safe and healthy!

 Footnote:

[1] In the Romance of the Three Kingdoms, Zhuge Liang opened all the gates of the city he defended and sat atop a platform, where he played his guqin. The enemy leader, Sima Yi, ordered a retreat since this looked too much like a set up for ambush.

[she-is-tim]

Will you catch me if I fall for you?

Elu Marvel AU 

mostly written for @anxetyt1me and everyone else that are going to enjoy this 

Summary: 

Eliott is an ambitious archer boy who decides to join the Avengers when an opportunity crosses his way. Little does he know that his heart is going to be captured by one of the twins HYDRA experimented on. Lucas and his twin sister Manon just survived the attack of Ultron in Sokovia, but they are already training to become Avengers. The boy is a cheeky bastard who likes playing games. This time his target is Eliott and he can always get what he wants. 

Enjoy *finger guns*

Eliott knew the compound will be huge, he saw it on tv, but he was still in shock as he got out of his taxi. He paid for the ride, it wasn’t cheap, but he was willing to sacrifice all he had just to get here. He grabbed the strap of the quiver attached to his torso, feeling the weight of the steel arrows and his bow pulling him down. It felt like his legs were turned into concrete, heavy and immovable. Every step was like an eternity, his palms started sweating as he made his way inside the gigantic front yard towards the Avengers building. There was a chopper on his right, just waiting on the parking spot, ready to fly away at anytime. He knew the people who lived inside wouldn’t use it, they had flying supersuits, special wings, superpowers and quinjets. They liked to make a fancy entrance, especially Tony Stark. Not like any of this mattered in this exact moment. 

He swallowed the lump in his throat, continuing his road towards the front of the building. Feet still heavy, heart thumping, threatening to burst out of his chest. Now that would be a good introduction. 

As he got closer, he had to squint his eyes, protecting it from the piercing sunlight that was reflecting from the gigantic windows. The weather was nice, not too hot, soft clouds swimming through the endless, blue pool above. He stopped, looking at his outfit. Black leather, tight and well fitting, belts snaking around his waist, his thighs, keeping his throwing knives - silver ones with handles carved out of bones - safe. Boots perfectly melted on his feet, thick sole, strengthened with steel. Hands covered in leather gloves that let his fingers free, except the index and middle finger on his right one. Designed especially for professional archers like him. 

He got kicked out of his thoughts rather literally when a blue flash appeared out of nowhere. During his years of hard practice and training, it was clear that his senses were extraordinary, just like his reflexes, but he still had problems focusing his attention. That’s what made this situation possible where he was laying on the ground, the handle of his bow hardly pressed to his back as a feet on his chest placed pressure on him. Gasping for air he tried to open his eyes, which wasn’t so easy considering the sun was shining right at his face, but then a shadowy silhouette leaned over him. His eyelids fluttered open, trying to take in his surroundings and for a second Eliott was sure it would be less blinding to stare at the sun. 

The boy was gorgeous. Fluffy brown hair surrounding a beautiful, smooth face with perfectly curved nose, pink lips and those damn blue eyes. Eliott wasn’t a poetic boy, but he could write long essays about the beauty of just those irises alone. He knew he was staring, mouth agape, not able to form the words, but it seemed like the boy had a clue who he was. With a slight movement he tilted his head to the side, cocking an eyebrow. The smirk that appeared on his face was probably the most beautiful thing Eliott had ever seen, hands down. 

“You are the boy Clint is waiting for?” He spoke up and fuck, his voice was soft and smooth like warm honey, having a slight french accent, which just made him 1000 times more attractive. His foot was still pressing the archer boy down, not like he had any problems with it. He could put a leash around his neck, there wouldn’t be a complaint coming from his side. 

After long minutes of just staring into each other’s eyes, Eliott realized that there was a question he needed to answer. The boy above him didn’t seemed to be annoyed, on the contrary there was a playful spark in those ocean blue eyes. Trying to take a deep breath wasn’t a good idea considering he was pinned to the ground, but he did anyways, just to help himself find some confidence to speak with this angel. 

“Yes…” he muttered, voice sounding rather raspy. “My name is Eliott.” He managed to say it, but he kept finding himself at a loss of words under the gaze of the person above him.

“Welcome to the Avengers compound, pretty boy.” He said, leaning down even more and with that placing more pressure on Eliott’s already hurting chest. “You are going to have fun.” He added with a cheeky smile on his pretty face. Eliott knew he would already do anything for this boy without a single question just to see him smile again. He was pretty much fucked. 

“Lucas, what are you doing?” The high pitched voice came from where the entrance of the gigantic building was. Eliott could see the outlines of a girl, slim body, wearing black skirt, a grey shirt with a scarlet red jacket. Her curly hair was like a brown waterfall, surrounding a pretty face. Eliott could notice the similarities between her and the boy, Lucas’ features, not mentioning the soft French accent of both. 

“Nothing.” He replied and within a blink of an eye the pressure was gone from Eliott’s chest.

He could only see the blue flash as the angelic boy returned to his sister. Now he knew who they were, the Lallemant Twins, Lucas and Manon. Orphans that were used by the psychopath HYDRA scientists, experimenting and torturing them, making them have special powers to then use them as weapons against their enemies. But they got out, sided with the Avengers and helped them defeat the army of Ultron, the crazy robot that tried to drop the city of Sokovia on the Earth to destroy humanity with it. Of course Eliott didn’t know the details, but he had seen a lot of videos, read articles and interviews with people who were there during the battle. Lots of the citizens died or got hurt, it was a hard price to pay for saving everyone else. That’s what it means being an Avenger, Eliott knew it. 

He slowly got up from the ground, being sure that his back has a bow handle shaped hole now. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t take his eyes off the boy, who was now having a quiet conversation with his twin sister. He just realized what Lucas was wearing and he just didn’t know how to process that sight. The pants were fine, loose ones, black colored with two white stripes on the sides of his thighs, but the top… He was wearing a well fitting, long sleeved shirt, a combination of dark blue and grey mixing on it with lighting bolt shaped white stripes just on the place where his stomach area started. And it was tight, like really tight. 

Without realizing that he started walking forward, he suddenly found himself being close enough to catch some of their talk. It turned out to be difficult to focus on the actual words being said while seeing and hearing Lucas speak. The boy was just so soft and beautiful, Eliott couldn’t believe he actually fought with an army of lethal robots alongside big names like Clint Barton, Thor or Captain America. It just seemed impossible for this soft looking boy to hurt even a fly. 

“-cking care what he said, I’m going to handle this one.” Lucas sounded just a little bit frustrated as he was talking to his sister. Manon looked at Eliott over her brother’s shoulder and then let out a frustrated sigh. 

“Fine, but I am not going to save your ass from Clint again.” She said and with a smooth movement she spun around on her heels, disappearing behind the glass door. 

Eliott just stood there dumbfounded, as the other turned to him, wide smirk plastered to his face. Realization hit like a truck, only noticing now how small the boy in front of him actually was. He could hug him from behind, resting his chin on the top of his head easily. And damn if that didn’t make him want this brunette even more. 

“So, why are you here actually?” Lucas asked, trying to sound nonchalant with little success. He opened the door for the tall one who nodded as thanks, walking inside. 

~°~

Eliott was glad when they arrived to the training room where Clint Barton waited for them. Their walk was really awkward, at least to him, Lucas seemed to enjoy circling around him, asking the most random things. ‘How old are you?’ ‘Where are you from?’  ‘Are those knives on you thighs?’ ‘Wanna try throwing one at me?’ ‘Is this your natural hair color?’ ‘Can I touch your hair?’ ‘You wanna touch my hair?’ Of course he could barely stutter out a few words, completely embarrassing himself. This was the first time he felt so nervous around someone that he lost his voice and wasn’t able to speak. Usually he had too much confidence, being aware of his looks and skills, but this very short and also very fast boy seemed to make him turn into a shy, stuttering mess. 

As he stepped into the huge, empty room made out of steel and concrete. Half of the floor was covered in what looked like auburn linoleum, while the other half had epdm rubber flooring. In the middle stood the guy himself. The person Eliott looked up for ever since he heard the rumors about him. Clint Barton aka Hawkeye, the best archer in the whole world. Hair perfectly styled, oil green shirt loosely hanging on his well trained body, tight jeans wrapped around his legs, tucked into black boots. Suddenly his nervousness got doubled, hands getting sweaty. Lucas stepped forward, putting his hands on his waist. The man squinted his eyes at him before his face broke into a wide smile.

“There you are, you little bastard. I was looking for you.” Cint said, walking to the boy and patting him on the shoulder. “I see you found my visitor.” his eyes wandered towards the tall boy, who had to swallow, wiping off the sweat from his palms.

“Yeah, he’s fun, but very quiet.” Lucas responded, now turning around, another pair of eyes landing gazes on Eliott. 

“I… My name is Eliott.” he managed to force out the words. This would be much more easier, if that angelic brunette wouldn’t be there with them in the room. 

“Yeah, I know.” Clint said, looking at the boy next to him now. “Leave us alone, Lucas. I think you have training with Nat and Manon today.” he said cocking an eyebrow, sounding like a father who’s talking to his rather stubborn son. It was endearing to see this kind of relationship that Eliott could never had in his life. 

His father left him and his mother when he was just a baby, not even bothering to pay child support or visiting his son. He grew up in bad circumstances, struggling with money, which lead his mother to borrow cash from the most shady people. That’s why she ended up with a bullet in her head, that’s why Eliott got captured when he was 12, being tortured and trained to be their deadly assassin. To their bad luck, they couldn’t erase all the memories he shared with the mother they killed, so he waited. When the perfect opportunity came, he killed them all and escaped. Since then he was roaming the countries, leaving Paris and all its filth behind. Until he found out that the Avengers are looking for rookies, training them to become fighters. So he called the number, talked to a few people and now he was here. After long years of suffering, loneliness and fear, he found the place where he can get a reason to live.

He got dragged out of his spiraling thoughts when a blue flash, probably Lucas passed by him, leaving with the feeling of soft fingers brushing through his hair. It was so sudden and unexpected that he almost lost his balance, barely saving himself of landing on his back yet again. That boy really liked to play with him, using his speed to get maximum advantage. 

“I’m sorry about the kid.” Spoke Clint now, walking closer to Eliott, who quickly shook his head as weak try to get rid of the clinging feeling of the brunette’s touch. “I guess he’s excited. He is not allowed to leave the compound, so he doesn’t really have the chance to meet new people.” He explained with a soft smile on his face. 

“How old is he?” Eliott decided to ask, because he was genuinely curious about the boy. It felt like something inside him was pulling him towards Lucas, like they were connected. 

“He’s 17, too young if you ask me.” 

“Life doesn’t care how old you are, it just throws shit at your face and expects you to handle it.” Eliott replied, looking at his personal hero, who seemed to be impressed by his words. 

“I can’t wait for you to meet Nat, I think she would like you.” He said smirking. 

~°~

A whole week passed, filled with long hours of training with either Clint or Natasha. They were really good, like real professionals, which made Eliott realize that his skills weren’t much above average compared to them. But this just kept fueling his determination to become stronger, faster, never missing a shot. 

Sometimes as he met Lucas on the hallways or in the kitchen, but they didn’t have much time to talk both of them occupied with their own training. It still couldn’t make the archer boy forget about that soft touch or ignore the way sometimes the other was looking at him. Those ocean blue eyes haunted his dreams, chasing away the usual nightmares he had ever since he slaughtered his torturers. He knew they were bad people, that they deserved to die, if not for their other crimes, then just for killing his innocent mother. And still flashes of spilling blood, echoes of death screams and the sight of lifeless bodies were the only thing he could hear and see once he closed his eyes. Up until he met this gorgeous boy. 

It was Tuesday, his usual training were canceled due to a mission both Natasha and Clint had to participate in. Something happened that involved a guy named Brock Rumlow, so Captain Rogers decided to follow the leads. Eliott only had the chance to see the actual big names from afar considering both Tony Stark and Captain America were busy people. He once had a chance to chat with Sam Wilson, he’s a sympathetic dude with great humor, Eliott liked him a lot. Then there was Manon, the quiet one out of the twins. She’s spending most of her time with either Vision, the android with crazy powers or Natasha, trying to learn how to use her abilities in battle. 

Since there wasn’t much thing for him to do without training, he decided to spend his time outside by the river. He sat on the side of the wooden platform, back resting to one of the pillars that held the roof above his head. He looked at the sketchbook placed on his lap, opened on two blank pages, pen laying on his right ear. It was a long time ago since he had time to actually draw something, but he knew exactly what - or more like who - he wanted to draw. The person that got stuck in his mind ever since they met on the driveway of the compound. Someone with eyes so blue that the sky feels jealous, the ocean wants to hide by the sight of them. 

He let out a deep sigh, dragging his eyes away from the sketchbook to the calm water, trying to enjoy the quiet. There wasn’t any noise coming from inside the building like always, no one was arguing with F.R.I.D.A.Y. or training with explosives. There wasn’t a thing that could ruin this perfect moment. At least he thought so, until a certain fast boy appeared out of nowhere, creating a wind that almost flew Eliott’s sketchbook out of his lap into the river. Thankfully he had enough consciousness to catch it in time, saving it from getting soaked. He shot an angry look at the short boy, who was standing in front of him now, innocent smile plastered to his face. He was wearing sports grey sweatpants and a white shirt with the word ‘Désir’ written on it. Eliott hated the fact how he looked fucking gorgeous in those clothes too. 

“How’s it going?” he asked, running his fingers through the already disheveled hair. Eliott rolled his eyes, clutching his sketchbook to his chest to protect it from the chaos that this brunette was. 

“I was doing fine just a second ago.” Eliott replied. Just because he had a crush on this demonic angel, it didn’t mean he can’t be annoyed with his behavior. During the time he had spent here, it became crystal clear that Lucas lived on annoying the hell out of everyone. Which wasn’t that hard considering his abilities. 

“Wow, someone’s grumpy.” he smirked and crouched down just so their eyes could be on the same level. “I didn’t know you are drawing.” he said, nodding his head towards the sketchbook. 

“Only when I have time.” He said, his sudden anger starting to fade away, giving more space to the fucking nervousness again. This boy was affecting him in ways no one ever did before, which was a tad bit scary. Like the way he smiled made his heart beat crazy fast. “What do you want anyways?” he managed to ask.

“Well, since we both have some free time, I thought we could hang out.” he shrugged and sat down now too, pulling up his knees to his chest, resting his arms on it. Eliott tried not to focus on the veins that were clearly visible on his hands and forearms like this. 

“I would prefer to be alone.” He mumbled and that was the biggest lie in the history, because he wanted Lucas to stay, even if they don’t talk. 

“Yeah, I don’t care. I am going to stay.” He said with a wide smirk, resting his chin on his arms now, long eyelashes fluttering at him. Eliott was afraid that his heart is going to burst out of his chest. “So… you are an archer boy and an artist? What other talents you have?” He asked curiously, wiggling his perfectly curving eyebrows. The tall one sighed and dragged his eyes away from the boy, just to make talking easier. 

“That’s all basically. I am good at shooting and throwing stuff. I rarely miss my target.” His eyes followed a piece of grass floating down the river. This place was so calming and peaceful. It was a long time ago since he got a chance to appreciate nature and its beauty in any kind of way. He forgot how nice the summer breeze can feel on a heated day. How beautiful water looks when it’s mirroring the cloudless, bright blue sky. Everything in this world seemed to be so nice, innocent and sweet in this very moment, almost letting him forget about all the horrors he had seen in his life. All the things he had done. People he killed, tortured and hurt. These just faded away in the bright sunlight, the soft wind taking them far away, leaving nothing but serenity behind. 

“What about the drawing?” Lucas voice dragged him out of his thoughts so suddenly he got startled, letting his sketchbook go that was falling towards the water. Everything happened so fast, but within a blink of an eye, his sketchbook as home from his sight. He turned his head towards the boy in front of him, the black notebook in his hands. “That was close.” 

“Can you give me back?” He blurted out instead of saying thank you, which was not very polite, but he couldn’t care less. That sketchbook was too important for him. 

“What will I get if I give you back?” Lucas asked, playful smile appearing on his face as he got up and took a few steps back, keeping the notebook behind himself. Eliott squinted his eyes at the boy. 

“Nothing, that’s mine!” 

“But I saved it for you, therefore I deserve a reward, right?” He kept grinning as the archer boy got up, trying to get his sketchbook back, but he started just swaying around quickly and flawlessly. 

“No, it’s not how it works. Give it back, Lucas!” 

“Come and get it, Robin Hood!” He smirked, sticking out his tongue, slowly backing towards the building. Eliott walked forward with a determined look on his face, but deep inside he kinda enjoyed this little play. Lucas was adorable as he used his speed to get an advantage over him every time he tried to get back the little book. 

“You are so annoying! Give it back!” 

“I want a reward!” 

“What reward?” Eliott sighed, stopping now, placing his hands on his waist. The other one also staying put, looking at him mischievously. 

“Stay there and close your eyes.” he replied, bouncing on his feet excitedly. It was just so fucking adorable that Eliott couldn’t resist him, so he just let out a defeated sigh, closing his eyes slowly. He could feel the wind brushing through his hair, his nose filling with a scent he couldn’t recognize at first. It was like the smell of air right after the storm. Then before he could react, soft lips touched his own ever so slightly and carefully like being afraid of rejection. He opened his eyes just a little, taking in the sight of Lucas being so damn close, his features seemed even more beautiful, eyelashes casting long shadows on his pink cheeks. Hair falling to his face, making him look like the young, innocent boy he actually was. And fuck if Eliott didn’t fell for him in that exact moment. 

His hands moved on their own, grabbing the brunette’s waist, pulling him so close their bodies were almost pressed at each other and he captured those cherry lips with his own. He could feel the boy gasping into the kiss, the notebook falling out of his hands, landing on the wooden floor with a soft thump. Soft hands were snaking their way up on Eliott’s back, grasping into the black shirt he was wearing. Their kiss started off slow, searching, trying to see how far they can go with the other. In the next moment Eliott found himself pressed to a wooden pillar, the rough material digging into his skin, while a soft body was grinding on his front side. That was probably the best thing he had ever felt. With one hand he kept holding the boy’s waist, while the other was sliding down to grab his thigh, pulling him even closer.

After long minutes of kissing and trying to eat up the other’s face, Eliott pulled back, examining the boy, his flushed cheeks, swollen lips and his ocean eyes that were filled with desire. At least his shirt was accurate, which made the older one smirk. Lucas smirked back at him, fingers gripping into Eliott’s messy locks, pulling him down for an open mouthed kiss this time. Tongues swirling around each other. Not even the soft summer breeze could cool down their bodies now that they were burning in passion. 

Their heated up making out session was disturbed by the sound of the Avengers quinjet landing not too far from them. The boys broke apart, looking into each other’s eyes, smiling like idiots. Before Eliott could say a word, Lucas grabbed his hand, squeezing it slightly and started to walk towards the building with him. 

“Let’s go and welcome the others.” he said on a cheerful tone, trying to fix his mess of a hair with his free hand. Eliott let out a heartfelt laugh and placed a soft kiss on the top of his head. 

“Sure thing, Sonic.” he muttered into his hair to which he got a disapproving look from the boy.

“Fuck off.” 

“Nah, you convinced me to stay. Now you gotta deal with my shit.” his smile didn’t seem to disappear anytime soon and damn if that wasn’t feeling good. Lucas gasped, placing his hand over his heart, faked shock plastered to his face.

“Oh, mon dieu! What have I done to myself?” voice dripping from sarcasm, while he was still holding Eliott’s hand. The tall boy laughed, pulling him closer and disentangling their fingers just so he could throw his arm around Lucas’ shoulder, realizing how well he fits there. 

“Just shut up.”

“Make me!” Lucas retorted, stopping in their tracks, turning his head to the side. That expectant look on his face was so alluring and sweet, Eliott couldn’t resist. Why would he resist? Therefore he closed the short distance between them, locking their lips together in a soft, slow kiss. 

When the weight disappeared from under him alongside with the soft mouth that was pressed to his just a second ago, he almost lost his balance, landing on the floor. He heard laughing from afar, turning his head towards the sound. Lucas was standing in the doorway, leaning to the frame, swinging Eliott’s sketchbook in his hands victoriously.

“Come on, Robin Hood! We have to go.” he said with his cheeky smile that made the tall boy’s heart beating faster. He shook his head with a soft laugh, jogging towards the building where the other was waiting for him. 

Now in this very moment Eliott felt like his life had a reason, that all those things happened to him in the past weren’t just to fuck him over, but to lead him towards this moment. He was meant to be here, meeting Lucas, falling for him. It sounded cheesy, so he would probably never admit it out loud, but in this playful boy he found his reason to keep going. And so he will, because he is not gonna let anyone take this away from him. Not this time.

~°~

Make sure to leave a comment or your opinion on this ficlet! I am super nervous, cause I can’t decide if this is a good one or not, but I really wanted to publish it already. 

Bious