#how some people manage to fill the whole bio and still give me nothing to work with is truly a talent

[fingertipsmp3]

Last night: had a dream I decided to take a job as a clown

Tonight: redownloaded tinder

Prophetic dream?

[irrelevantwriter]

House Call

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) x Female Reader/You

Rating: Explicit, NSFW

Warnings: Language, vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, mention of bodily fluids, reader being scared and horny, Rio’s BDE (y'all know what's up)

Word Count: 4.2K

Summary: Part 1. Rio shows up unannounced to talk business. Among other things. 

A/N: It’s here...it’s happening. It took me a whole 2.5 seconds to become obsessed with Rio once I started watching GG. Ya’ll know how I roll. Anyway, this is me just dipping my toe into the water. I didn't get too deep with a plot (spoiler alert: there isn't any). It’s essentially just reader-insert into the show’s current plot, but with some smut thrown in. For fun. I hope you guys like it. Feedback is that good shit. 💗

*Added a Part 2! Read it here.

*Give and Take series masterlist

*Masterlist in bio.

***********************

“You okay?”

The sound of your friend’s concerned voice filled the line, pulling you back to the moment and the conversation you’d been engaged in before you’d burnt yourself in the spray of hot water.

“Yeah, just washing dishes.” You explained, cradling your cell between your shoulder and cheek as you maneuvered dirty dishes under the spout of water.

“So the meeting with the principal? How’d it go?” Rachel asked, getting you back on track.

You sighed, beginning to scrub at a stubborn coffee stain left behind on one of your favorite mugs.

“Fine. The kids are still having a hard time with the divorce so it’s…” You paused, unsure of how to describe the child-like brooding your son and daughter had taken to participating in since you’d separated from their father.

“Tense? Difficult? Weird?” Rachel listed off helpfully.

“All of the above.” You deadpanned, still scrubbing.

“You take the rest of the day off?”

“Yeah, I’ve gotta figure out what I’m going to do with these kids. Paul said he’d come over later to talk it over.”

“How incredibly thoughtful of him.” Rachel replied, sarcasm and disdain dripping from her words.

“Well, it’s a start. And as much as I’d like to tell him to fuck off, I can’t. He’s still their dad.” You explained for the hundredth time, feeling the stress of your situation with your ex starting to creep into your body. Your shoulders felt stiff and your head began to throb with a dull ache. It was a familiar reaction these days. One you loathed.

You opened your mouth to steer the conversation elsewhere when the doorbell rang, chiming throughout the empty expanse of your home.

“Paul?” Rachel asked, obviously hearing the alert of someone’s company over the phone.

“I guess. Look, I’ll call you later.” You said with another sigh, this one more tired than annoyed. You gave up on the stained mug and moved onto drying it, shutting the water off as you did.

“Okay. Good luck.”

“Thanks.” You ended the call, aware that you were short with her, but unable to feel sorry for it. You had plenty of other things to worry about, none of which involved your shitty ex or his new girlfriend.

You placed your cell on the counter and turned to make your way to the entryway, mug still clutched in your hand. The ceramic cup dropped to the floor and shattered into pieces when you saw who was already in your kitchen. You gasped, clutching your chest and yelping at the familiar man in black, the dark ink splattered across his throat the first thing you noticed. Your heart leapt, your body going rigid at the unexpected visit. Pop-ups like this were never a good sign.

“I let myself in.” Rio supplied, voice low and thick with authority and charm. He wore a smirk, lips upturned at your surprised reaction. He always seemed amused by you. That fact only served to unsettle you further.

“What’re you doing here?” You managed to say between shaky breaths, fear making your own voice quiver.

“Just checking in, mama. Can’t I do that?” He challenged with his arms spread wide, daring you to say otherwise.

You didn’t.

You went to move around the large kitchen island but the shards of broken mug prevented you from getting far on bare feet. Rio took notice and strode towards you, all clean lines and hooded eyes. He had a swagger about him that radiated. It sent a clear message about the kind of man he was. Confident. Skilled. Smart. There was an ease in his movements, but a beast lay in wait inside, ready to strike when the need arose.

His piercing gaze took in your dress, uncaring of being discreet or polite. He appraised you from the tips of your painted toes to the top of your head. It was as unnerving as it was thrilling. He crowded your space. He always did. While the scent of him filled your nostrils. Something spicy, but pleasing. It sat in your nose, and you knew from previous experience that you’d smell it for hours after.

You swallowed, wanting to avoid his close proximity. You hastily bent down to gather what you could of the jagged pieces, moving around his sneaker-clad feet that stood before you. You tried to ignore his presence, tried to appear calm and composed. It was an uphill battle. The man always knew how to throw you off. He knew how to keep people on their toes. It was yet another facet of him that you both coveted and despised.

You hissed, feeling the edge of one of the shards dig into the tip of your finger. You stood and sucked the tip into your mouth, trying to clear the area of the blood that had started to surface. His eyes were on you, watching you with interest and a certain level of lust that you didn’t allow yourself to explore. You stiffened when he reached for your wrist and pulled your finger away from your lips. He inspected the cut, his flesh warm and soft against yours. It was a side of him that eclipsed the man you’d come to know over the last several months.

“It’s not bad. I’ll be fine.” You whispered, attempting to pull your hand free of his. It was futile.

“Band aid?”

“Uh...yeah. In that drawer. Next to the stove.” You pointed in the direction of the drawer, holding your breath as he retrieved the item. This time, you watched him. Watched as he unwrapped the bandage and tended to your finger with all the care of a parent with their child. He held the appendage steady as he got ready to wrap it, but he stopped himself. He locked eyes with you instead, making you shiver.

“I make you nervous.”

It was a statement. A very true statement. And yet you found yourself shaking your head; ironic because your voice felt too unsteady to use.

Your heart stopped when he placed a tender kiss to the cut. The air around you crackled with heat and tension. It was unlike any feeling you’d ever been subjected to before. It was danger mixed with primal fascination...attraction. And it called to you like a raft in a sea of treacherous waves.

He ignored your silent response and sealed the band aid over your finger, ensuring the ends were smooth against your skin. He didn’t let go of you.

“Don’t lie to me, okay? Trust is an important thing. And we’ve gotta have it if we wanna keep doing business together.”

His calm demeanor and gentle chastising made you a puddle of obedience. Your need to please wasn’t just born from fear. It was something you’d been unable to come to terms with until now. You saw it for what it truly was. You wanted to please him. In as many ways as he’d let you.

You nodded in response, agreeing to his statement.

“Let’s try it again then, yeah?” He started, eyes roaming your face. “I make you nervous, don’t I?”

“The constant threat of my life makes it difficult for me to be calm.” You said, choosing to still be untruthful. 

You forced yourself not to fidget as his stare scorched your skin. His black eyes roamed across the open expanse of your collarbone and to the modest neckline of your wrap dress. He licked his lips as he focused on the measured breaths of your chest, your breasts rising with each pass.

“That’s not the only reason.” He retorted with a shake of his head. He leaned in close, noses almost touching as he spoke. “Don’t move.”

You said nothing as he bent down, continuing your failed task of picking up the broken bits of ceramic. You observed him dutifully gathering each piece, piling them into one large hand. His face looked pensive, as if he was trying to solve an equation in his head. You leaned against the island for support and bit your lip, unwilling to give into the lecherous thoughts that haunted you at night and managed to infiltrate your dreams.

“Nice dress.”

His compliment made you pause, looking down to meet that familiar smirk. He’d set what was left of the mug onto the counter, the floor relatively clear of large fragments. His fingers now played with the hem of said dress, the flowy material dancing in the air and away from your body.

“Thanks.”

Your voice was small. The apprehension so clear that you could both taste it. He found it funny. You found it humiliating.

He slowly straightened, taking the fabric with him as he gathered it to just above your knees.

“Color looks good on you.”

Again, the juvenile warmth of his praise sent you reeling further into anxiety’s waiting arms. Inwardly, you were responding to every lick of his lips and quirk of his eyebrow. Your thighs shifted restlessly against each other, waiting for that satiation that you hadn’t felt in forever. Outwardly though, you remained as skittish as a wild horse. You were as much on the edge of pleasure as you were on retreating.

“Thanks.” You said with a pleasant smile, wanting to conceal the yearning that bubbled just under the surface. You smoothed out the hunter-green fabric that rested against your abdomen, hoping to urge his hands away from you and the dress.

No such luck.

Instead, he ran his fingers up your skirt and along the outside of your thighs and hips, almost meeting the edge of your lace panties. Your traitorous body showed its hand, your nipples hardening in eagerness. Rio’s gaze predictably caught the action. And his face showed his approval.

“How long you been divorced?”

You furrowed your brows in confusion at his sudden curiosity. But the switch in topic had you alert again and somewhat clear of the fog he was so insistent on throwing you into.

“Why? What does that have to do with anything?” You questioned, stepping back from his body.

His hands fell away from you finally, but they didn’t stay idle for long. They skimmed over your hips, pressing your backside into the edge of the kitchen island.

“Answer me, mama.” He demanded, head craning down to meet your eyes. The intensity of his stare made you shift on your feet. He had an amazing poker face. A skill that left you envious.

“Two years.” You dutifully supplied, leaning backwards every inch that he moved in.

“It’s been that long then.” He commented with a nod, a finger tracing along the neckline of your dress, hovering just above your cleavage.

“That long for what?” You asked, taking note of the subtle ways in which his face changed. There was no trace of the teasing, light-hearted flirting that you’d become accustomed to seeing from him. He was serious. Almost as serious as the times he’d threatened your life. His touch was more insistent, telling you what he wanted rather than hinting. His mouth lowered to your ear, his nose brushing against your neck in a far too erotic manner. Your fingers itched to anchor yourself to him. You denied the request.

“Since someone stretched you out.”

A gasp caught in your throat, though you didn’t know if it was more from his words or his touch. He’d managed to slip a hand under your dress, tracing the crotch of your panties with a dexterous finger as he spoke.

“Wh-what do you mean?” You stammered, knuckles tightening against the edge of the counter you were currently gripping.

“I mean…” Rio started, lips brushing against the shell of your ear with each syllable. His finger barely teased your slit, but his voice more than compensated for the lack of physicality. “You haven’t had someone here,” He emphasized the word with a firm press of his finger against the soaked material that hid your clit from view. “In two years. Maybe more.”

You whimpered, biting your lip as he continued to manipulate your body. Your head screamed at you to stop, to pull away. But the sensation of his body pressed so firmly to yours was far too comforting to deny.

“You don’t know that.” You attempted, though the effort was obviously pointless. It was true. Since your separation and subsequent divorce from Paul, you’d barely been on a date, much less had sex. Your body was fiending for it...for him. And he knew it.

He scoffed, finding amusement in your words. He pressed his finger along the same dampened area, seeing your eyes roll into the back of your head. He licked his lips when your hand shot out to grasp at his wrist.

“Yeah, I do.” He affirmed with a nod, finger still teasing over your lace-covered slit. “He stepped out on you, didn’t he?” He continued, his eyes taking stock of the way you responded to his touch.

You had trouble focusing on the conversation he insisted on having while his hand was up your dress and practically in your underwear. You didn’t feel the need to supply an answer anyway. He already had all the information he needed.

“He didn’t deserve you.”

You were jolted back to reality by his words, straightening your spine and pushing his hand from between your legs.

“And what? You do?” You threw back, agitation seeping into your tone. You felt like he was patronizing you. He was always one step ahead. Always aware of the skeletons in your closet before you were.

“Never said that.” He said with a shake of his head, not stepping out of your space. His hands were off your body now, but the stains they’d left on you would remain there. They wouldn’t easily be erased. And you weren’t entirely sure that you wanted them to be.

“Why are you here?” You asked, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

“Business.”

“A simple call or text works for that.”

“Wanted to come in person.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders. He wore an expression of smugness, as if he knew something you didn’t, which was often the case.

“What do you want then?”

“Why don’t you tell me?” He retorted swiftly, lips pulled into a thin line.

The seriousness was back, his eyes nearly swallowing you as all humor became sucked from the room. The nerves in your stomach came back full force, the fear aiding them in their efforts. He was challenging you, apparently done with your lying.

“I…”

You didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know how to even begin. He was too intimidating. Just too much.

“I-I can’t.” You finished lamely, shaking your head and looking down at your feet.

He tilted your chin up, his mouth only centimeters from yours as he dared you to move.

“Just say the word.” He rasped against your lips, his free hand cradling your cheek.

You let yourself stare back, taking in his dark lashes and the angles of his face. He confused you on many levels, angered you beyond belief. He made your life a living hell. And yet, you wanted him more than anything. More than the money and the thrill of crime. And somehow he was privy to it all. And he wanted to give it to you.

So you were going to let him.

“Kiss me.” You breathed out, your hands finally coming to rest on his chest.

He needed no further encouragement. His mouth settled over yours in a tangle of lips and tongues. He tasted like mint, his lips much softer than they looked. The scratch of his facial hair only added to the moment as you pressed further into him, asking him to take more.

He did.

His hands were rough, but not unpleasant as they trailed along your body. They had the marks of healed scars. Not to mention the blood of those who chose to cross him. They were everywhere and all at once. Your breasts, your neck, your waist, your ass. He kneaded where he knew you yearned for more and tenderly stroked the areas in between. You struggled to keep up as his hips pushed into yours, his own yearning making its presence known.

“We shouldn’t do this.” You managed to say between heavy breaths, Rio’s mouth attaching to your neck and sucking near your throbbing pulse.

“Why not?” He mumbled into your skin, hands unwilling to slow down.

“Things will get complicated.”

He pulled himself away from the crook of your neck, his thumb running over your kiss-swollen pout.

“Yeah, they will.” He said with a chuckle, that devilish smirk staring back at you.

It was all a blur after that.

Limbs intertwined together as you worked on the buckle of his pants while he pushed your dress up and over your hips this time. He harshly pulled the lace away, the elastic snapping against your thighs as it got caught before making its way to the floor. Your mouths didn’t separate, not even when he lifted you onto the counter. He pulled one side of your dress away, exposing the matching bra you wore underneath. Your pebbled nipples called to him and he responded, massaging the flesh with expert precision. You moaned and writhed like a woman possessed. Like a woman that hadn’t been laid in two years.

“Feels good?”

The roughened gravel of his voice made your walls spasm, the hint of self-assuredness causing a wave of arousal to seep from within you. You could only nod, wordlessly pleading with him to continue on. His touch ventured south to your spread thighs. You widened them, allowing him access to the place you needed him the most. He didn’t disappoint.

His fingers were long and probing as they penetrated your sex, slipping easily in. You gasped at the fullness, the stretch around him making your eyes squeeze shut. He let your body guide him as he rubbed at your clit, his fingers curling against your walls.

“I’m...god...I’m gonna cum.” You confessed, only somewhat embarrassed by the suddenness of your climax.

He worked hard and faster. Your nails dug into his back, your mouth landing on his shoulder as you struggled to not cry out. You bit down when the euphoria of orgasm washed over you, trapping his hand within you. He could feel every tremor he brought forth as you shook in his arms. It felt like it lasted for hours, your body unwilling to let the feeling be a fleeting moment in time.

“You still with me?” He asked, lips pressed to your temple.

You nodded, hissing when he removed his fingers from the confines of your body. You watched, feeling as if you were in a daze. He shifted his pants and boxers down, revealing his length to your ravenous eyes. The hand that had been so deeply embedded in you now wrapped around himself. He was long and hard, as rigid as his hands. You felt like a moth to a flame, hand reaching out to feel if he was real. He was.

You swiped your finger over the tip of him and were overcome with wanton pride at feeling the moisture that sat there. His jaw clenched in a way that you’d only ever seen him do in anger. He didn’t allow you to continue. In an instant he was wedged between your thighs, his body already pushing into your waiting sex. Even with the climax from his fingers, he was a tight fit. You both expelled breaths, his a mumbled curse and yours a throaty moan. You shut your eyes as a new burst of pleasure radiated from your core and traveled up your spine. There was only a brief moment of intimacy as he sat unmoving within you, letting your body adjust to him.

It was short-lived.

“Fuck...” He cursed as he began to fuck you into the counter, hands holding your hips in place.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he lavished yours with kisses and bites, each thrust of his hips causing his teeth to graze your skin. The chill of the marble countertop beneath your bare ass cooled your overheated skin. You bit your lip so hard you could taste blood as he filled you over and over, each pass making your walls accept more of him. He was deep and hitting that gloriously elusive spot that sat within your womb. 

He cupped your breasts while you scraped your nails down his back, hearing him growl in response. The sound made you yearn to hear more. So, you did something you’d always wanted to do...you licked the ink on his throat. You decorated his skin with tantalizing kisses, your tongue aiding your actions. He shivered against your lips, the reaction making your walls clench around him. He was, at least for the moment, a slave to your ministrations. And it was a high unlike any drug you’d ever encountered.

It was animalistic fucking at its finest. He hit every nerve, soothed every ache. The union of your bodies was enough to send you sailing off the proverbial cliff, but his touch kept you tethered to solid ground, longing for more. He rocked his hips mercilessly into you, making your back arch at an almost painful angle.

“Right there, huh?” He teased, feeling you squeeze around him in raw desire. “Yeah, that’s the spot.”

You whimpered and tensed when he savagely rubbed your swollen clit, forcing your legs to tighten around him. He laughed, the sound ominous in your ringing ears. You could only hold on as he delivered the sweetest torture you’d ever felt. You spread your thighs wider, trying to get him closer than humanly possible. You opened your neck up to him, letting him have access to your bare flesh. You wanted him all over you and leaving a scorching trail of hunger in his wake.

It was manic. It was frenzied. It was passionate. And it all combined into a seductive elixir that made fireworks burst from within.

“Shit...I’m cumming.” You warned, feeling him double his efforts. Every muscle went taut with blinding pleasure as that coil finally snapped. You felt weightless, and yet the firm body still driving into your depths made you feel sublimely solid. And whole. More whole than you’d felt in the entirety of your marriage.

It was on the tail-end of your climax that Rio found his. His hips stuttered as he grunted and groaned, releasing himself into you and painting your walls. His fingers dug into the flesh of your inner thighs while his face burrowed into your chest and neck. It was as uninhibited as you’d seen him. And you were addicted to the sight. 

You both heaved with shallow breaths, the exertion of each of your climaxes literally taking the air from your lungs. The room smelled of sex and instant regret as you straightened in Rio’s arms. He separated from your body, eyeing you as he redressed. You shifted your dress back together to cover your bra, the mess between your thighs preventing you from closing them completely. 

Before you could say anything, Rio reached up and cradled your cheek. He played with your bottom lip, his thumb once again finding the appendage. His eyes took in every part of you, as if he hadn’t fucked you senseless seconds before. He licked his lips in that dangerous way that let you know his thoughts were on more than just money.

“Business is good?” He asked, warm palm still pressed to your cheek.

“Yeah, it is.”

“Cool, cool.” He nonchalantly replied, hand leaving your face as he stepped back from your debauched body. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You said with a nod, pushing your dress further down over your thighs, a lame effort to protect any modesty you might’ve still possessed. He smirked at the action.

“Might wanna clean up the mess.” He said with a cheeky upturn of his lips, hands gesturing to the remaining fragments of ceramic that still littered the floor but eyes locked solely to the spot between your legs. The place he knew he’d left a part of himself.

You bit your lip and nervously played with the hem of your dress, feeling his eyes bore into you. Despite still being fully dressed, you felt naked to him. Bare. Exposed. Vulnerable. You hated it.

He retreated, facing you as he walked backwards towards the front door. You watched him from over your shoulder, still unsure of what to make of the whole situation. 

“And lock your door from now on. All kinds of madmen running around these streets.” He quipped, eyes lighting up at his own joke.

He was gone as fast as he’d arrived, causing havoc and then leaving without a second thought. The door closed with a crisp click at his exit, the house now feeling bare without his foreboding presence.

You didn’t move from your spot. You remained on the counter, Rio still leaking from your walls and your dress still disheveled despite your best efforts. Your mind raced with thoughts, each one riddled with panic. His unexpected visit left you with more questions than answers, all of which were tinged with fear. What did this development mean for you? Did it actually mean anything? Or was he simply taking what was so obviously laid out in front of him?

Did it matter?

No. It didn’t.

Because although he may have indulged your craving, your appetite was far from being fulfilled.

[shoutogepi]

Red Roses

Kirishima Eijirou

word count : 7.5k

[ ✘ (nsfw!), flowershop!au ]  

themes : haaaa where to begin… almost dubcon?? (BEWARE!), dom!kiri, size kink!kiri, light spanking, tinyyy bit of ass play, little use of “Sir”

bio : Kirishima decides to educate you on the alternative meaning behind a red rose.

author’s note : this fic was meant to be for the @bnhabookclub​ provisional licensing exam event using their flowershop!au, but alas... i am a lazy procrastinator. anyway you should check them out!! i’ve absolutely loved being a part of something so great. also thanks to all who helped me with this fic <3 buuut special thanks to @lady-bakuhoe​​ for beta reading <3

tagging: @queensynderella @marilla-eldriana @1-800-callmekatsuki​ @hisoknen 

also available on AO3 here

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🅃he bell tinkles overhead as you step into the quaint store, palm clammy against the metal doorknob and chest tight with apprehension.

“Y/N! Thank god for you,” your friend exclaims from behind the register, sliding over the counter with ease. She shoves the apron she’s holding into your hands before attempting to throw her hair into a messy bun. “I cannot believe my sitter cancelled on me this last minute— my husband has to be out of the house in ten minutes!”

You smile at her gratefulness, but your eyes are not on her. The curtains on the back room part and out steps the store owner, red eyes landing on you. “Y/N,” he greets you, the timbre of his voice low and cool. You nod and smile hesitantly toward him, shifting your attention back to your friend even though you can feel his gaze raking over your body.

Yuki wags a disapproving finger toward the man behind the counter, “Kiri, you better take good care of her!” She commands with a playful yet firm tone, body already halfway through the door you’d just come in through.

Your entire being screams out for you to beg her to stay, but you hold your tongue as you recall it was you who said you’d cover her shift. She already seems to have had the stress lifted from her shoulders at your arrival, and you can’t bear to back out after coming all the way here.

Looking back toward the source of your stress, you can’t help but admire him. Scarlet locks hang down around his face, majority pulled back into a sleek, short ponytail to give you a better view of his handsome face— jawline sharp as his teeth and the scar on his forehead slicing through his brow. He’s tall; well over six foot with rippling muscles adorning his long, tan arms. He’s wearing a crisp, white button down rolled up to the elbows, black and red ink poking out of the hem and trailing down his forearms. The store’s pine green apron is pulled snug around his figure, accentuating his broad chest and narrow hips. You already know his ass looks incredible, even though it’s hidden by the plastic countertop. He’s a five course meal on legs, for Christ’s sake, but you know better than to get ideas— he’s a player.

“Of course,” Kirishima replies across the store after her retreating form. His eyes drift over to you, catching your stare. “I’ll take great care of her.”

The door closes, sealing you to your fate with the red beast of a man. For a moment you just stand there, frozen as your mind runs through a thousand thoughts. Before he can comment about your blatant staring, you rip your eyes away from his, throwing the neck of the apron above your head. Tugging the tie around the back of your waist, your fingers fumble with the thick material as you turn to face him again. “So what should I work on?”

He seems amused at your question, even though it’s extremely valid. Not even bothering to hide the generous once-over he gives you when you've finally tightened the bow behind your back, he takes his time to answer you. “Yuki usually does the ordering for next week’s shipments tonight, but I’ll do that. You can put together some bouquets— I’ll give you one to follow off of.”

You’re honestly surprised that he’s giving you real work to do, but then again, you are covering a shift after all. Kirishima shows you the corner behind the counter designated for bouquet assembly, and he helps you make the first bouquet before he slips away behind the curtains of the back room once again, leaving you alone in the store.

He’d picked a simple bouquet for you to reproduce; a dozen red roses with a few sprigs of baby’s breath and a touch of greenery. The work is pleasantly methodic to complete, and by the time the sky is dark, a small sense of pride blooms in your chest at the pile of bouquets you’d managed to complete. It’s five minutes to close, and not a single customer has come into the store in the last hour. You’re snipping the ends off of the last branch of baby’s breath when you hear the rustle of the curtains behind you.

Immediately the atmosphere of the room changes. The once warm and light mood that filled the shop dissipates, replaced with a heavy, silent tension that causes trepidation to ooze into your veins.

“These look pretty good, Y/N,” Kirishima speaks from behind you, thick fingers moving over the packages of cellophane in a slow, analytical sweep. You roll your eyes, wondering if he’d thought you’d do a shit job or something.

You open your mouth to give him a curt thanks, but your voice dies in your throat as you feel his presence a hair’s breadth from your backside. The heat that rolls off of him licks at your skin through your clothes, your hands fixed midair.

“Though this one’s a little off,” he murmurs, breath washing over the shell of your ear. His hands come into your field of vision, arms absurdly thick and just generally large in comparison to you. His hands are just as big, dwarfing yours as he plucks the dainty flower from your stiff fingers.

The tattoos that peek out from the cuff of his sleeves hold a certain gravity that captures your stare. You watch him tuck the stem among the bouquet in your peripheral, placing it in precisely the perfect location to make the ensemble flawless.

Your stomach lurches when his chest brushes against your shoulders, fingers turning in on themselves to form to meager fists that you place atop the counter. “There,” he whispers, and you can feel just how close his lips are to touching your ear.

His voice does something to you; up close like this it sounds almost akin to how a tiger’s purr rumbles through its whole body. Except it’s your body that it thunders through, an unwanted heat beginning to form between your thighs. You shift your legs slightly, bringing your feet closer together in an attempt to mitigate the sensation.

You nearly gasp when he pulls away, eyelids fluttering shut in relief.

“You’re actually pretty good at this,” he comments, returning to the pile of bouquets that rest along the countertop. He starts to tuck them into his arms, red gaze flickering to gauge your expression. There’s a knowing gleam in his eyes, and you try your best not to allow heat to flood into your cheeks. But he doesn’t push it any further, turning and walking around the counter to crouch in front of one of the fridges that line the wall. You find yourself wishing for the cool air to wash over your own face, and you grab a few bouquets before making your way over to him.

You kneel down next to him, slightly annoyed that even sitting down he’s still at least a head taller than you. Stupid proportional man. You open the door and prop it open against your hip, leaning in to place the fresh bouquets inside an empty bucket, following Kirishima’s lead.

Kirishima watches you from the corner of his eye for a moment. “Thank you,” he says as he continues to fill the buckets in front of him, “for filling in for Yuki, I mean. The shop doesn’t look too busy but it needs two people to keep it up and running, so… I appreciate you coming in.”

His words are unexpected, and they bring a fresh wave of heat to your cheeks. You’d never seen the playboy be so openly appreciative before, although honestly you’ve only seen the fuckboy side of him— the one that eyes you down, and blatantly flirts with you when you come to visit your friend during her shifts. “Of course, Kiri,” you reply automatically. The burning in your cheeks only intensifies when you realize you’ve addressed him so informally, but when you turn to apologize to him, you find he’s much too close for comfort. He’s leaned in, taking you by surprise as the scent of his deep, savory cologne wafts into your face. Those carmine eyes piece into yours, making your stomach fill with butterflies, flapping round your stomach in a concoction of nerves and— you hate to admit it— hunger.

“You’ve done such good work today, Y/N,” he nearly whispers, and you watch as his full lips part to utter the words, sharp fangs glinting at you. Before you lose yourself to the moment, he stands, mollifying the intensity and severing you from the invisible string that pulls your gaze to his. You hesitantly take the hand he reaches out to you, trying not to think about how truly huge it is compared to yours. He pulls you up effortlessly, and you still as his other hand comes to touch the back of your waist when you all but collide into his chest. “Sorry,” he says but you wouldn’t deem his tone apologetic, “you’re so dainty, y’know— like a flower.”

You turn on your heel to face the other direction, hoping he doesn’t notice how much his comment affects you; you’re sure you look like a bird with fluffed, ruffled feathers— you certainly feel that way at least. You let out an awkward laugh as you take a hasty step toward the register, your body wanting nothing more than to rid itself of this infuriatingly delicious heat that Kirishima’s words create underneath your skin, licking and crawling along your bones. Finding yourself safely harbored behind the counter once again, your eyes fall to the nearly-completed bouquet you were just wrapping up when Kirishima exited the back room. Your fingers reach for a sprig of greenery, flat wide leaves fanning out in an elegant manner that could only accentuate the beauty and simplicity of the red bouquet.

But your sense of security is proven false, for Kirishima’s deep, demanding voice trickles like honey into your ears. “Red roses are accepted as the symbol of love all around the world,” he pauses for dramatic effect, and you hate to admit you’re left teetering on the edge of your metaphorical seat waiting for his next words, “but true florists know they convey another meaning.”

By the clarity of his diction you can tell he’s standing not far behind you, probably a step or two away. You can feel your heart rate spike again, your breath catching as you wonder what his next move will be. “And what’s that?” You reply dryly but it comes out more like a breathless whisper.

His thick forearms intrude your vision and settle on either side of your figure, leaving just a touch of space from your flesh. Your nearly shaking fingers drop the twig of leaves when he reaches between your hands, plucking a single thorny stem from the assembly before you and holding the soft, velvety petals to the tip of your nose. He doesn’t have to say the words for you to know to take a sniff of the blossom, and you inhale as much as your lungs will take before he answers your question, breath hot against the shell of your ear.

“Desire.”

Your body freezes completely, too shocked to even draw in a breath of air, when his pointy teeth graze the very tip of your ear. Jaw hanging at his sheer impudence, you’re still as a statue when he moves the soft swell of the bloom across your far cheek, soft petals trailing along your fiery skin. The action tickles slightly, causing your head to turn toward his face that hangs down above your shoulder.

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart,” he coos, and again there’s that rumble in his voice that resonates through your frame. He drops the flower, not caring to even spare a glance as it falls from his fingertips. The digits move to cup your chin, middle finger pushing the corner of your jaw to swing your face directly in front of his. Simmering red eyes stare deep into yours, flickering toward your lips briefly before he decides he no longer wants to drag this out.

You’re horrified to moan so unabashedly when his lips press against yours in a vicious siege, dominating them and claiming them as his. His kiss is rough, as if he can’t hold himself back from his beast-like passion, yet it’s much more meaningful and encaptivating than you’d imagined it would be. His arm slithers around your hips to place his hand atop your ribs. Your eyes widen at his undisguised motive, and you open your mouth to call him out— but before you can pull away to tell him to stop, his tongue slips between your lips. Knees wobbly at the sudden intrusion, your tongue begins to move with his, stroking, and swirling, and tangling into one sexy, sloppy mess. His hand slips from its place on your ribs, drifting underneath the side of your apron and cupping your entire breast— not much of a challenge for his large palm.

Kirishima moans into your mouth at your acceptance, and you can only croak out a small whimper of reciprocation. His hand is hot through the nearly sheer fabric of your blouse, and the bra does not do much to block his calloused hands from your chest. His other hand continues to grip your jaw, just hard enough so you’d have to struggle to pull away from him. That is, if you were ever to want to pull away from him.

Your hands are still frozen in front of you, unsure what exactly to do in this situation. Mind completely exhausted of all higher levels of thought, the only emotions you can recognize are lust and satisfaction. Actually, your brain is so hazy with these feelings that you don’t even complain when he starts to undo the tie at the back of your apron. His teeth drag across your bottom lip, the sharp edges not quite pressed hard enough to cut you, but for some reason it brings an unexpected thrill. Pulling away from your mouth, Kirishima’s lips meander across your jaw, his hand tilting your head up so he can continue his journey to your throat. He sucks on the tender flesh there, inhaling your sweet and clean scent as his tongue washes against your skin. You gasp at his brazen action, ass pushing against his hips to discover something long and thick there. Teeth prick into your flesh just a touch too hard, but he’s let go of you after only a minute, and he traces over the small wounds with careful licks.  

“Do you,” you suck in short breath when he squeezes your breast, your words faltering, “Do you do this with all your employees?” You taunt, but Kirishima can recognize the doubt in your tone. It’s hidden under false scorn, but your question is pure and filled with true intent. 

He pauses his treatment on your neck for a spell, and when he speaks, the wet skin on your throat feels cold as his breath falls upon it. “Of course not,” he purrs, raising his head to take your earlobe between his teeth, pulling away and sending a fresh wave of shivers down your spine. Your body jolts at the stimulation, and your bottom brushes against his crotch again. This time, his hand moves from your breast to wrap around your waist, securing you in place. He presses his concealed cock against the swell of your ass, and you bite your lip at the sheer size of him. Leaning in, he places a long stripe on the side of your ear with his hot tongue, and you can hear the teasing dripping from his voice. “Only with the pretty ones who beg for it.”

Kirishima’s hips rut against your ass, and he holds you in place so that the gentle grind he offers is felt in full effect. You nearly moan at the feeling of his hot length rubbing against you, your pussy starting to leak onto your panties. Of course you know he’s been around, but he’s so sexy— and he’s got to be good at what he does with all that experience.

He pauses, angling your face to still in front of his again. There’s a mischievous twinkle in his eye, and a pleased smirk pulling up one corner of his mouth. He turns your face away again, and your eyes fall shut as his nose scrapes along your cheek. “Yuki says to stay away from you,” he grumbles, lips pressing against your cheek as he speaks, a groan slipping from his parted lips as he rolls his hips into yours particularly hard. Your bottom lip is held prisoner between your teeth in a desperate attempt to hold in the moan that craves to be set free. “Says a good girl like you is too good for me to be messin’ around with.” His words convey a dash of irritation, and you’re caught off-guard at the seasoning of disdain.

You wonder when she’d told him that— when they’d talked about you— but Kirishima does not allow you another moment to ponder it. He kisses you again, and all thoughts are cleansed from your brain as his lips seize yours. The hand on your chin drops and you gasp as it lands on the hem of your skirt, curling around you so his hot palm rests on your inner thigh, just a short distance from your soaked panties. Your feet move to draw your legs together, and your quivering thighs rub against his hand as you struggle to make your body move to your will. Pulling back to fill your lungs with fresh air, you mumble against his lips, “Kirishima, that’s—”

“But I know you’re not all that innocent,” he continues, fingertips brushing over the saturated lace. He groans as he traces along your slit, delighted to find you’re more than aroused from all his touching and teasing. Your cheeks feel impossibly hot, and you let out a soft whimper as he grazes over your clit a few times, your head falling back against his broad chest. Kirishima takes in your lustful expression, and the way your eyelashes flutter at him makes his cock twitch in his pants. “You’re so wet, sweetheart— fuck, you’re a naughty little thing. Y’want this, huh?”

Even though you only give him the slightest nod, he seems to accept your response, for his grip around your waist tightens considerably, pulling you flush against him. His hips buck against yours and you moan aloud when the clothed tip of his cock rubs against your panties through your skirt. You can’t even react when he spins you around, your head feeling fuzzy and laden with desire. He grabs your hips, easily placing you on the edge of the countertop before his fingers move to rip off your apron, then coming to undo the buttons at the front of your blouse. “The— The store,” you pant, eyes darting toward the door that currently sports the ‘open’ side of the sign. You swallow thickly when Kirishima falls to his knees, landing at the perfect height for him to put his head between your thighs.

His hands move to snag the hips of your panties, and you nearly whine in embarrassment when he slides the item down your legs, a thick string of your lust connecting the material to your pussy before it severs. Kirishima only moans in awe, pride oozing into his system as he takes in how drenched you are for him. He shoves the soiled lace into his pocket, and you whine at the action, about to complain but he cuts you off. “Don’t worry, Princess. No one’s gonna bother us,” he breathes out as he comes closer to your weeping core, your slick trickling down your ass cheek to drip onto the countertop.

White hot mortification bursts through you as he takes a long whiff of your pussy, and you squirm to move backwards but rough hands trap your thighs open, dragging your ass to hang halfway off the edge. He smirks as he looks up at you, examining your flustered expression.

“You ‘dunno how long I’ve wanted to have a taste of this sweet little pussy,” he growls, and your hands fly to the end of the counter to steady yourself, grasping onto it tightly. He chuckles when your cunt twitches before him at his words, his hands spreading your thighs apart into an obtuse angle, moving forward to drag his nose along your slick folds. You whimper at the contact, clenching around nothing as he teases you, your mouth falling open to suck in ragged breaths of air. His tongue darts out just slightly, and he runs the tip along your slit, separating your folds and savoring how your thighs shake underneath his grasp. “Mmmm,” he moans, sending tiny vibrations echoing through your sopping cunt, “good girls always taste the best.”

You can’t bear to look at him any longer, and you move your hand to place your curled knuckle between your teeth as his tongue creeps out, the flat muscle petting over your entrance slowly. His teeth graze your clit and you whine at the stimulation, the smooth enamel sliding across your bundle of nerves easily. His tongue is slow and playful, stroking you and avoiding where he knows you want him most.

Kirishima nuzzles into your cunt, rubbing your clit again with a lewd snarl pulling up his lips. “Look at me,” he commands and you follow his direction instantly, eyes blown wide with lust and tongue pressed tight against your knuckle. He groans at the sight, and you only shift your hips in his grasp to try to get closer to his mouth. Those scarlet eyes find yours once again, and you struggle to hold his gaze as his lips wrap around your clit, sucking it in and rolling his tongue over it. He moves the muscle hard against you, just fast enough to have you moaning out, your hand flying from your mouth to grasp the top of his crimson hair. Pulling away briefly, he blows a small huff of air across your heat, shit-eating grin splitting to gloat. “Doesn’t that feel good, sweetheart? Be a good girl and keep those pretty eyes on me.”

Your lips waver as they press into a firm line, your thighs straining to close at the intensity when he sucks your clit into his mouth again. But his massive hands hold your legs apart without any effort, and he lashes his tongue against you without mercy. There is nothing more you want other than to throw your head back and close your eyes, jaw hanging open and heated pants drifting out, but you force your gaze to remain on the man between your legs. Your fingernails scrape against his scalp as you try to find some way to channel the pleasure he introduces to your body, but the action only seems to spur him on. One hand leaves your thigh only for his other arm to wrap right around your ass, and your hips buck helplessly against his face when a fingertip prods your slicked entrance.

Kirishima does not ask for permission, and you suck in a silent gasp as his finger spreads your pussy, shock and pleasure shooting through your limbs at the stretch just one finger provides. “You seem a little quiet, sweetheart. Wanna hear that sweet voice of yours again,” he growls against your pussy, tongue flicking down to trail along the edges of his finger lodged deep inside of you.

You can only whimper as he glides the digit out, pushing it back inside slowly and nearly making your eyes roll back in your skull. His finger is already so long and thick— god, if you had fingers like that you could probably make yourself cum in—

A shriek of bliss rips from your lungs as he thrusts his finger into you, curling toward himself and rubbing some place your fingers have never reached. There’s a cocky grin on his face, and you hate to admit he looks so good looking up at you like that from between your legs, but you can’t bring yourself to form any words. “That was cute,” he chuckles, jagged teeth nipping gently at your pearl again and forcing your entire body twitch against him. He makes sure to capture your full attention before he finishes his thought, the corners of his lip curling with something darker. “Is that the best you’ve got? I think you can do better.”

He’s anything but gentle, the heel of his palm rubbing against your folds as he fucks his finger into you at a rapid pace. You’re seeing stars flash before your eyes, the sliver of sanity you were so desperately clinging to ripped from your grasp. You cry out when his mouth returns to your clit, sucking, and flicking, and slurping. Your eyes just won’t stay open, jaw losing the opposite battle as it hangs ajar, broken and unrestrained moans tumbling out like a burst dam.

Kirishima seems satisfied with your reaction, and he begins to groan against your cunt. You’re dripping with enough slick to coat the entire lower half of his face, and the vibrations from his throat only reverberate through your pussy, making you sharply tug on his hair.

“K-Kirishima,” you pant, a plea about to leave your lips. You’re not sure if you want to beg him to stop, or to give you even more. But Kirishima makes that decision for you.

A strained gasp slices though you when his finger slides out of you, only to be pressed against another digit and shoved into you. The unexpected addition causes you to yelp, a strained moan purring out of you as he allows a few slow strokes for you to adjust. Jesus, having two of his fingers in you feels like you’re being stuffed already— a fleeting pang of fear shooting through you as you wonder what his cock will feel like. But you’re not allowed to ponder the thought, his fingers picking up the pace and curling against that spongy spot again.

Body squirming with bliss, your hips thrash in his hold, switching between scooting back and forth, rocking yourself against his mouth. Kirishima can feel your cunt begin to tighten snug round his thick fingers, your walls fluttering and pulsing at his rough but generous stimulation. “Gonna cum? Bet you make sucha pretty face when you cum, come on sweetheart,” he murmurs, slick lips kissing along the top of your pussy, across your clit. You would’ve cum already if he just kept that sly mouth of his on your clit, and you don’t expect his next words to affect you so much as you cum all over his hand. “Sooner you cum, sooner I can split you open with this cock. You want that, right? Wanna have me fuck that tight little cunt— y’wanna be my good girl, huh?”

Kirishima holds your hips close, arm tightening around your bottom as your body spasms with your orgasm, euphoria zipping through your entirety. The broken moan that rings out into the room makes his cock pulse in his pants, trousers feeling suddenly much too snug for his liking. Your head is thrown back in ecstasy, thighs quivering atop the counter and toes curled in your sneakers.

Finally he allows you a moment to breathe, fingers slipping out of your pussy and standing before you. His arm slides up with him, snagging around your waist to lay his palm flat against your shoulder blade and hold you upright. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he smirks as your eyes finally open, only to catch him tracing his tongue along the fingers that just brought you to heaven’s gates.

Your palms land on the broad expanse of his chest, fingers curling around straps of his apron. He laughs as you whine gently, ducking down a considerable distance and allowing you to slip the loop over his head. You undo his shirt as your lips collide, this time in a sloppy and desperate kiss. His tongue rolls over yours in your mouth as he tugs your bra to rest on top of your chest, your breasts spilling out into his eager palm. He thumbs over your nipples and growls against your mouth, and you whimper and allow your fingers to spread across the flesh of his chest. When you open your eyes, you notice a black and red dragon carved into the top of his pec, dipping halfway down from his collar bone and curling around his shoulder down the length of his arm.

Shirts thrown to the floor in crumpled heaps, you trail your fingers down his hard six pack, thumb combing through a neat trail of black above the button of his jeans. Digits running down to cup his hard length, you look at him with wanton eyes and groan. “Wanna taste you, Kiri.”

Kirishima clicks his tongue in his mouth, a beefy hand wrapping around your wrist entirely and steering your hand to rest on the bulge on his thigh. Your eyes widen almost comically, your throat drying and pussy tightening with a cocktail of apprehension and excitement. He leans down to run his tongue along the column of your throat before he pulls back with a brief nibble to your jaw, locking eyes with you. “I don’t think a sweet girl like you can handle taking me in your mouth.”

His fingers move to undo the button on his jeans, the suspense thick in the air as you watch in awe. He tugs the jeans to rest beneath his ass, the bulge in his black boxer-briefs already indicating you might be in for more than you can handle. You try not to let your jaw drop when his cock springs free, swollen tip glazed with a sheen of pre and pulsing veins decorating the entire shaft. Hand around the base of his cock, you whimper as it only covers half his length— his fist is already considerably bigger than yours and suddenly you’re in fear for your pussy.

Kirishima laughs at your expression, pressing a quick kiss to your lips and smoothing the hair from your forehead. “Don’t worry Princess,” he murmurs, arm around your waist again to push your hips to the very edge of the countertop. Your pussy twitches when the head of his cock brushes your folds, and you find yourself wondering if you’re about to be in a world of pain or pleasure. Probably both. “I’m gonna make you feel so good,” he promises, nuzzling his face into your neck and pressing gentle, wet kisses there.

“I don’t— I don’t think it’s gonna fit,” you croak out, arms hesitantly wrapping around his neck. Yet your legs spread on their own accord, inching forward so his cock rubs against your opening.

Kirishima purrs at the action, licking his lips against your throat. “We’ll make it fit, sweetheart.” He brings his hand up to his mouth and spits into it, the crude noise making you flinch and wrinkle your nose in disgust. But it doesn’t last for long— any conscious thought leaves your brain when you glance down, seeing him stroke the top half of his cock with his slick hand. Biting your lip, you close your eyes and pull him closer, trying to prepare yourself for whatever is about to come.

Thankfully his movements are slow as he pushes into your wet cunt, and you’re surprised how easily his length slides into you. The stretch is unreal— unlike anything you’ve ever felt before— and it takes all your willpower not to clench around him for you know that will just cause you further discomfort. He only enters you halfway, grip tight on your waist as if he’s having a hard time controlling himself. Sighing against the flushed skin of your neck, he moves to kiss you again, lips tender and careful.

You whimper when he gives a tentative thrust, your nails clawing into the muscles lining the top of his shoulder. His cock is so thick, and knowing it’s only halfway inside you has your stomach twisting in terror. He’s goddamn huge. It takes a few more gentle thrusts for your grip on him to loosen, and your body relaxes slightly in his arms.

Kirishima clearly has enough experience with this, because the pace he sets is perfect. His hands slide all over your body, cupping and squeezing every inch of flesh he can find. Hips rock into yours at a slow, benevolent pace, your pussy stretched wide around him and fluttering as his thick veins drag along your velvet walls. Lips finding yours again, his tongue and pointed teeth distract you as with each thrust his cock shifts a tiny bit deeper inside of you.

At some point you start to moan, head falling back and mouth open wide as long, unadulterated sounds float out from the bottom of your lungs. Kirishima’s pace hastens, hands landing on your hips and thrusting into you swiftly. His cock is making your head spin, brain full of fog as your heart hammers in your ribs. He swears as his rough hand claps atop your ass cheek, taking note of the way your pussy shivers around him and a sharp squeak is summoned from your lips. “God you’re fuckin’ tight sweetheart— fuck, you a virgin?” He moans, fingers biting into the reddened skin on your ass. When you shake your head at him, he questions how on earth it is possible for you to be this snug around him, but he makes sure to thank whatever deity there is for it.

You cry out when his thumb greets your clit, and he fights to maintain his measured pace at the way your cunt squeezes so tightly. Your slick is dripping onto the countertop, his cock buried deep in your core, again and again. His added stimulation to your clit has you gasping for breath, a coil in your stomach filling with pressure. “Ohgodohgodohgodohgod Kiri please don’t stoppp,” you beg, pupils drifting up into your skull and your hands flying all over his torso, grabbing whatever skin you can reach.

Kirishima groans, palm pushing your tailbone forward so your hips bump against his. You scream at the full intensity of his cock inside of you; every inch and every vein setting fire to your insides, his thumb relentless on your clit. Your vision turns white as you reach your peak, your body seizing in ecstasy. Pulling him close, you wheeze for breath against his chest, his thumb never stilling its movement on your clit until you grab his wrist and rip him off of you, overwhelmed with the bliss from your orgasm rippling through every bone in your body. He’s still moving inside of you— albeit at a snail's pace— but it’s enough for him to prolong the pleasure simmering in your veins.

Finally you collapse into his chest, mind numb and eyelids too heavy to keep open, your lips pressing clumsy kisses into his skin. A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest, his fingers carding through your tresses. “Now, that was cute, Princess,” he says, the amusement in his tone laced with something darker. His fingers curl in your hair, pulling your neck back so your head tilts up to meet his sinister gaze. “But you didn’t get permission to cum, did you?”

Your heart begins to race, your stomach plummeting as he holds your gaze without vigilance. You whine as he pulls out of you, your cunt never feeling this empty before as his hot length disappears. Kirishima picks you up without effort, biceps swelling with intricate swirls of charcoal ink. He places you on wobbling feet before spinning you around, your hands flying out to grab the counter as he shoves your shoulder down.

“That makes you a bad girl, Y/N.”

Horror streaks through your every limb, and yet, only a sinful moan wanders out of you, your feet moving apart and thighs spreading for him to fit between. You crane your head to look at him, drinking up the beautiful man behind you. Broad shoulders trail into a broad, thick chest, tapering down to a tight and powerful waist. Each muscle on his body is prominent and enticing, covered snugly with tan skin that glimmers with a sheen of sweat. His red hair hangs to frame his handsome face, mostly still tugged back into his low ponytail.

As if reading your mind, he moves a hand back and snags the tie off, vibrant locks of scarlet licking the tops of his shoulders. Running a hand over his forehead, he looks at you with a predatory gaze, a smirk curling up one side of his lips. “Y’know what happens to bad girls, right?” You bite your lip and shake your head, egging him on as the top of his cock traces around your opening. “Bad girls get punished.”

The loudest scream of the night rips through you as he thrusts into you without warning, his cock hitting all different kinds of places than before in this new position. Kirishima doesn’t allow you a moment to adjust; he starts slapping his hips against your ass roughly, fist gripping the hair near your scalp again and pulling it tight so your back arches. You cannot breathe, or speak, or think— but somehow his name slips out of your mouth between all the moans.

A harsh slap across your ass sounds, the sting causing your pussy to quiver around his length. “Bad girls don’t get to use my name,” he growls into your ear, leaning over your body to take the tip of your ear between his teeth.

Your eyes are crossed in pleasure, your expression probably comforted into the most lewd, carnal face you’ve ever made. His cock is too big, and you know you won’t be able to walk right tomorrow, but maybe that adds to why it feels so fucking good right now.

“You’re makin’ this seem like a reward, not a punishment, Princess. You like taking it rough, huh?” He teases, pulling your head back by your hair and eliciting another moan from you. “Answer me.”

His cock pounds into your cunt, the sheer stretch enough to make you cum, let alone the length. Your lungs begin to shake as you feel your orgasm building again between your legs. “Yes Sir!” You yelp when his palm cracks against your ass again, your knees wobbly and the pressure continuing to build.

Your reply makes his cock twitch inside of you, and Kirishima sucks in a cool breath of air between clenched teeth. His hand grips the bottom of your thigh, and you cry out when he hikes your knee onto the countertop, cock drilling into you even deeper than before.

Your pussy twitches as you cum instantly, a drawn-out moan vibrating through your throat. Fingernails scraping along the countertop in your gaze of euphoria, Kirishima is forced to halt his assault on your cunt as it squeezes him tightly, his teeth piercing into his lip in pleasure. But as soon as your cunt loosens, he’s fucking into you with renewed vigor, your hips knocking into the counter as he plunges his massive cock into your sloppy heat. “You just don’t fuckin’ learn,” he snarls, wrist twisting to pull your hair tighter, bending your spine to his will.

“I’m sorry Sir,” you choke out, tears beginning to trickle down your cheeks. Each thrust brushes your cervix and it hurts, but at the same time the intensity of it all feels incredible. “I didn’t know I could… could cum so q-quick! Please, Sir— ah!— Please forgive me!”

Kirishima tosses his head back at your admission, your apology immediately accepted. His hand slips from your hair to your throat, turning your head so he can see your face as he pounds into you without mercy. The tears slipping down your cheeks make your eyes sparkle and he groans, his own end in near reach and only approaching quicker at the sight of you. “Y’look so pretty when you cry, sweetheart— shit, I know you have one more for me,” he leans in and pokes his tongue out to collect a salty tear, kissing the wet skin on your cheek. His thumb on your throat wanders to your lips, and you take the digit into your mouth with enthusiasm, keeping your eyes locked with his.

You whimper around his finger when his other hand comes around to circle your puffy clit, already overstimulated and thighs shaking. Your legs try to close but he keeps them spread apart, cock still ramming into you as his lips trail down to your neck. His hand on your throat loosens and comes to rest on your ass, pulling your cheeks apart and tracing his slippery thumb over your puckered hole. Your eyes widen with shock, and you force your voice to work even though it comes out scratchy and breathless. “W-What are you— Kiri wait, that’s—”

“Have you ever had anything in here, Princess?” He inquires as his thumb slips into you, making you shriek at the fiery stretch. Pushing the digit into your ass, he moans at the sight of you sucking in his thumb so obediently, your hole trembling and squeezing round his finger.

You shake your head, at a loss for words once again. You can feel his cock rub against his finger through your walls, and though it’s a foreign, unfamiliar sensation, it’s far from unwelcome. More tears of pure pleasure descend from your lashes, the combination of all his stimulation driving you insane. You can feel your climax building with every thrust, your walls dragging along his cock and his finger, his other hand rolling your clit.

“C’mon, baby. Cum for me, it’s alright,” he purrs, balls feeling tight with his near release. His fingers pinch and rub all over your slick clit, and you mewl out as that familiar pressure heightens in your stomach. “You’re a good girl, aren’t you? Show me how good you are, sweetheart.”

He doesn’t allow you a second to think, and you whine out for him when his hips crash against your ass, shoving his entire cock inside your soaked hole and spreading your aching walls. The spot he’s hitting with the head of his cock causes your eyes to cross— you didn’t even know it existed before now— and suddenly everything is too much, and you’re crying out his name as your orgasm tears through you.

Kirishima gives a few more hard thrusts before he’s there too, the tips of his teeth piercing into your neck as he floods your pussy with his heavy load. Your cunt pulses around him, milking out every drop he has to offer as you’re thrown into waves of complete euphoria. Eyes closed, toes and fingers coiled tight in pleasure, you whimper as he gives your clit a few more rubs before his hand moves up to push his hair back. “Good girl,” he praises, hot palms sliding along your curves and rubbing circles into your skin.

You’re totally spent; body limp atop the countertop, nipples hard and hot against the cool plastic, tears drying on your cheeks, ass feeling warm and fuzzy, and pussy trembling with the aftershocks of your climax. Kirishima is careful when he pulls out, and you can’t even find the energy to make a noise of complaint at the emptiness between your legs. You can feel his release begin to dribble out of your abused hole, and your body twitches when he presses his thumb in to shove his seed back inside.

He sighs as he grabs a paper towel from the sink behind him, dragging it along his weeping, yet still impressive, length. As you’re still catching your breath, he walks around the counter and into your field of vision, tucking himself back into his pants nonchalantly. When he reaches the door, he flips the ‘open’ sign over to ‘closed’ before sauntering over to you, eyes trained on yours. “Well, sweetheart,” he chuckles, gaze raking over your exhausted form, still collapsed on top of the counter in a sedated-like state. He reaches forward, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear as he smiles brightly, but a shadow of something more ominous lingers in those scarlet eyes. “You’re gonna have to cover Yuki’s shifts more often.”

   ─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

.

.

soooo that happened. finally some dom kiri on my blog!!! please be sure to lemme know if you enjoyed <3

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

[the-witty-pen-name]

Deadbeat Pt. 8

Lee Bodecker x F!Reader

18+ ONLY

Warnings: age gap (reader is 21), fluff, angst, cursing, abandonment, toxic parent, violence, toxic siblings, infatuation, cheating/divorce, insecurity, mild housewife kink, mentions of prostitution, mentions of alcohol, corrupt official, fake relationship, jealousy, jail

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: You work at the bar at the edge of town, the Sheriff is going through a divorce and needs to rent a room.

A/N:

IMPORTANT UPDATE

I made a Google form to be added to my taglists, so if you want to be added, the link is in my bio. I’ll only be adding people to the list if they requested to be added by filling out the form! This way all of the requests are just in one place so I don’t miss requests! Thank you!!!

Also, if you are liking this series, consider checking out my new Lee Bodecker series, The Nanny. Part One

Thank you all so much for reading and sharing my work. Everyone whose reached out and told me how much they love the story really makes my day, oh my gosh!! I love you all so much, I’m so thankful.

This is unedited, and I missed anything I should include as a warning let me know! I hope you all enjoy!

Also, even when this fic is over (it’s not yet don’t worry!), I want to continue writing for Lee and this reader, so send me ideas of what you would want to see! Smut, fluff, I just wanna hear ideas you think would match this story! Like moments of them living together, dreams, or even ideas for one shots of Arvin x Reader when they were dating if you want more from that aspect of the story... anything else you want to see with this story that will be like one shots that are part of this same universe. 

Tags and Requests are OPEN

Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // Part Five // Part Six // Part Seven

That’s the funny thing about time. More often than not it’s the one to dictate you and not the other way around. Rationalizations regarding time hardly ever work out in your favor.

Oh, I just need more time for this, and then everything will work out.

Just need to make it through this week and then next week will be better.

If I had had more time, I could’ve gotten everything done.

How often did those actually ever work out? Time, especially in this town, was never an ally. It worked against you, spreading and infecting as fast as a forest fire. Time let rumors spread and time allows for circumstances beyond your control to unfold. It’s the catalyst that expertly pulls people apart and sometimes if you’re lucky, back together.

Perhaps, two years ago, you would have thought you would have been one of the lucky ones. One of the select few that time actually heals, but you had since given up on that notion. Lee was gone, ripped from you as quickly as he had swooped in. Your job was ripped from you as well, leaving you incapable of supporting yourself. And now you had Tommy back as well you needed to worry about. That was the one positive in the whole mess Lee left you to clean up alone.

The events like a domino effect just tore things done one by one. Now the room is cleaned out and his things are tucked away in boxes in your garage just like his car. It was the only physical evidence that had proved it all had actually been real.

You didn’t even want to try to visit him at first. You were hurt, and felt used. He had kept so much from you, especially your job. His lies had been so effortless. It bothered you immensely. He let you believe you had been able to land it by yourself. Maybe you could have. But now you’ll never know. What employer is going to hire you now?

Tommy got a job fairly quickly and you found a job outside of town, away from the people who knew your name or Lee’s. The article published that revealed Lee had gotten you the job was evidence enough for the town that all the rumors and gossip that they spread with no forethought were actually true. You had slept with him for the job, of course. Some people pinned the blame on him and some on you.

It took you six months of him being gone before you would even go in his room. Anything of yours that had secured a permanent spot there you just went without. But you needed the money, and Tommy had the good idea to get another tenant. He helped you box everything up and move it all down to the corner of the garage, making it all out of sight out of mind.

You had managed to sneak several of his shirts into the bottom drawer of your dresser. You were impressed with how much of a front of indifference you were able to put up. You had made it like an assembly line, and you ignored the tug at your heart at how it reminded you of when he first moved in. Keeping busy kept your thoughts at bay. However, nothing prepared you to what you found in the drawer of his nightstand.

You had just wanted to get the work done fast, removing the whole drawer and dumped the contents into a cardboard box. It was mostly junk, but then a black velvety box had caught your eye. It stood out from everything else. You hadn’t been nosy, and up until this point, you hadn’t given much thought to any of the items you had been packing away. It was a necessity to keep you sane.  But like Pandora’s box, you really just couldn’t control the urge to open it. You reasoned it was probably cufflinks or something for special occasions he just never wore. But the temptation was just too much and you sat down on the floor and fished it out of the half-filled box. You opened it and you immediately burst into tears. Not once had you cried since he had been gone. You hadn’t given yourself the opportunity to, not when there were so many things that needed to be done.

It looked brand new, a gold band with a perfectly round diamond sat perched in the box that he had hidden away in the junk drawer he assumed you’d never have a reason to go through. You distinctly remember Janie’s ring had been white gold, and you remember Lee had told you she kept her ring. He said he didn’t want it back anyways; he had said over coffee one morning. Nope, this was yours and the receipt you found in the cardboard box confirmed it when you saw the date printed on the top. He had gotten it a month before your whole world went to shit.

For the next two weeks, you had kept it stashed away, hidden under the t-shirts you selfishly kept out as well. The weeks really started to blend together, just going through the motions and not really feeling like you were living. You were on autopilot. And before you had realized it, it was coming up on a year. Time had moved somehow simultaneously slow that year and also fast enough for you to lose track. You hadn’t moved on. You were just ignoring it, not wanting to acknowledge the hurt that was still behind your eyes, still as apparent since the day he was carted away.

One night, you don’t know what switch in your mind flipped, but you started crying in the shower and then couldn’t stop until you had cried yourself to sleep. You had just exhausted yourself and the cycle continued night after night as soon as you stepped in the door after work. You were lying on your bed, still in your clothes that you had worn to work even though it was way past midnight. You turned your head and just stared at the bottom drawer of the dresser, your eyes straining from the tears and also from the darkness. Maybe, just maybe, it would make you feel better. You got up, walked over to the dresser and sat crisscross in front of it. It was probably the first conscience decision you had made in weeks. Somehow it made you feel more alive.

Stripping down to just your underwear, and leaving the work clothes haphazardly in piles on the floor, you grabbed one of the t-shirts and pulled it over your head. Just the smell of him cleared your head. The way it was able to just aid your headache was almost instantaneous. It smelled like him. It grounded you, and had the opposite effect you thought it would have. You skeptically believed you were torturing yourself, and grabbing one of his shirts would make you feel worse. For the first time in a while, you felt comforted and finding a candy wrapper in the front pocket just made you smile.

You then pulled out the ring and looked at it, taking it out of the box for the first time. You slipped it onto your left ring finger. It was a little loose, but Lee didn’t do awful guessing your ring size. You didn’t care, you thought it fit perfectly. It was understated and stunning and you had never seen a nicer ring. It was simple, very unlike what your relationship had been. Actually, that wasn’t true, you realized. It was very easy falling in love with Lee, and when it was the two of you, it was perfect. It was the world and circumstances outside of your control that made it complicated. You also realize you had forgiven a while ago, but you had been too stubborn to admit it.

Fuck it. Fuck everything that you let overpower you for so long. What? The old ladies at Church call you a slut? Let them. The amount of weight that words hold over everyone here is so toxic. No one in this town was a saint. The whole town is held hostage by their own twisted dark secrets and the way people get by is just exposing the secrets of others. No one was moral. You hadn’t done anything wrong. What was your crime? You did nothing. Lee was as guilty as sin, but what made them better? What gives anyone the right to decide for themselves his motives, and ignore the good in him to villainize him?

It was early Saturday morning. Getting up from your spot, somehow feeling lighter on your feet, you see its after two in the morning. You settle back into your bed, and the revelation allows you to have the most restful sleep you can ever remember having. You woke up feeling refreshed, and feeling alive. Your head was clear. You still didn’t look good. Your undereye bags were dark and heavy. It would take more than a few hours of uninterrupted sleep to remedy those. The pain behind your eyes was still there, but the motive had changed. It was a longing, and a missing of him that weighed heavy on your head.

You wake up shortly after seven and your body doesn’t allow you to sleep in despite your attempts. You get ready for the day, changing into a pair of your fitted jeans that were cuffed, a pair of your Keds and one of your white t-shirts. You grabbed your purse, and made your way downstairs. Tommy had already left for work early and he doesn’t like to wake you. It was probably better, because had he been there, he would probably talk you out of what you were going to do.

The bus was pretty crowded, always was on Saturday morning. You hadn’t realized how close he was to you this whole time until you realized you had been on the bus for less than twenty minutes. This whole time, he had felt so far away, almost like he was erased, even though he was just in the next town. You arrived just as visiting hours had begun. You weren’t even sure you’d be allowed to see him, or if he’d want to see you. You hadn’t come before, and you wouldn’t blame him if he refused to see you. Hell, you didn’t even know what you’d say. You didn’t think about it once. You just wanted to see him.

The guard at the front desk took all your information and got you situated and then you just had to wait. It was probably less than fifteen minutes you had to sit there but it felt like forever. It was that familiar feeling of time messing with you again. Finally, the same guard returned and led you down a really bleak hallway, until you reached a room with a long table, with seats and dividers, and phone receivers. The seats situated across from each other separated by think glass. You gulped, you’d only ever seen rooms like this in the movies, and you shuddered facing where Lee had been stuck for so long. You weren’t the only one there, and other prisoners in beige scrubs were seated behind the glass talking over the receivers with their loved ones.

You took the seat the guard motioned to, and you thanked him. You were trying your best to not shake or show how nervous you were to see him again. You were scared he would hate you for not coming sooner, or he’d say he didn’t want to see you again. You couldn’t blame him. It has been a year. Yet, your heart leaps and betrays you when he walks in and any brave front you had is gone. He looks more tired than you, and his hair is slightly shorter than when you last saw him. But overall, it’s still Lee and goddamn, what you wouldn’t give to break the glass. The silence is deafening when he doesn’t even look up at you when he grabs the receiver. Does he not even want to look at you? He sat down without even looking up from his feet. He looks so defeated.

“Lee?” you ask softly into the receiver; you aren’t even sure if it picked up the sound. Apparently, it had because his eyes shot up at the sound of your voice. His eyes were wide and looked vulnerable as he scanned your face, like he was trying to keep from blinking.

“Oh sweetheart,” he gasps, “I’m so sorry. Everything- all of it. It was all my fault.” He also looks close to tears.

“I’m sorry I took so long,” you say, unable to pull your eyes from his.

“I didn’t expect you to even want to see me, darling,” he admits.

“You left an awful mess I had to clean up first,” you joke, making him chuckle halfheartedly.

“You deserve so much better,” he said sadly, “Settle down with someone your age, with a nice job or something- get out away from this place.”

“Christ, Lee, if I wanted that do you think I’d be here?” you joke. He smiles.

Four months ago, Arvin offered to drive you home from Church. Even with your brother being back, you still ended up going by yourself most Sundays. You weren’t even sure why you still showed up. It was an hour of being stuck in a room with a ton of people where you didn’t even have one ally. Actually, that wasn’t entirely true. You had Lenora, who’s sympathetic smiles from across the aisle let you know her silent solidarity, and you had Arvin, who wasn’t one to care what others thought much anyways.

Leaving Church now since the news was finally printed, no one tried to talk to you afterwards except for Arvin and his family. His grandmother was still as sweet as always, but you could see how much she pitied you. Arvin was always friendly still, and he had been so helpful with everything.

“I don’t even care if it was true you know,” he said suddenly, pulling your attention from the open window on the passenger side.

“If what was true?” you ask looking back to him.

“You know, how everyone is talking,” he says in a hushed tone, not wanting to actually say it.

“That I slept with the Sheriff to get the job?” You finish his sentence for him.

“Yeah, I- It doesn’t change anything,” he says, “You’re still you and I don’t care. We’re all human.”

“It’s not true,” you confirm, crossing your arms, and then looking back out at the passing landscape.

“Look (Y/N),” Arvin continued, “I’m sorry about what happened. I feel awful. I want to do anything I can to help you.”

“You’re always such a good friend to me,” you smile, “You shouldn’t be putting yourself out too much for my sake.”

“I want to,” he insists with a smile, “We got a history, you and me.”

“Yeah,” you say with a content sigh.

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately,” he admits nervously. He pulls in front of your house, and as usual he runs over quickly to get the door for you. “And just that we aren’t kids anymore,” he continues, and you nod. You dig for your keys as he talks.

“I got a job, pays pretty good,” he continues on, “You got a good job, and this old house. I know you better than anyone. I know it isn’t that romantic, but I’ve been thinking about this a lot. I’d love to marry you, if you’d have me.”

“A-Arvin, are you serious?” you ask, your heading whipping up at the sudden proposal you hadn’t anticipated.

“Tell me it wouldn’t make sense,” he laughs softly with a shrug, pushing his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.

“Arvin, I don’t want to just marry someone for the practicality of it,” you sigh.

“It’s you and me,” he continues, holding your shoulders gently and his eyes are latched onto yours. “I know I made a horrible mistake, but I have been trying so hard to make it up to you. You’re the only girl I ever loved- I never stopped. I loved you when we were eighteen, I love you know that we’re twenty-two and I swear if you let me, I can love you for the rest of my life.”

“Arvin…”

“It’s always been us, hasn’t it?” he asks rhetorically, “There’s never been anyone else…”

“I’m in love with Lee,” you say hurriedly, cutting him off before he continued.

“You what?”

“I’m in love with Lee,” you say again, slower and much more purposeful. You watch his whole expression fall, and it breaks your heart to hurt him.

“You’re in love with Sheriff Bodecker?” He asks, “That fucking deadbeat?”

“He’s not,” you insist, “You don’t know him…”

“You don’t either, (Y/N),” he cuts you off. “He’s no good and crooked. He manipulated you, took advantage…”

“No, he didn’t,” you affirm.

“(Y/N), he’s a liar, and he’s good at it,” he continues, “You don’t think he just up and told you anything he thought you’d want to hear to just get what he wanted…”

“You’re wrong!”

“He’s an alcoholic, no good drunk who took advantage of you with your mama gone…”

“Shut up!”

“He was using you!”

“You’re wrong, Arvin! You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Okay, fine,” he sighs, “Let’s say you’re right. So, you’re gonna wait for him? Wait out the five years until you’re twenty-six? And then after you wait for him to get out, how do you know he wants you? Then what are you going to do? I know right now you hate me, but God, (Y/N), I’m a good guy who only wants to put your happiness first… I’ve always put you first. I love you and I’m not going to make you play a ton of games or keep things a secret. I’ll run around this whole town right now screaming how much I love you at the top of my lungs so the whole town knows.”

“I don’t love you.”

Lee still can’t believe you’re finally here in front of him. He thought about this moment for so long. He had even tried to prepare himself to brace the possibility that you might never want anything to do with him ever again. His dreams would plague him with thoughts of you. Sometimes they were happy, and he’d be woken up with the horrible realization that they hadn’t been true, and others were worse. He’d dream about getting out, and seeing you with someone else. Married, and happy, and he wasn’t the one you settled down with. Sometimes, he wouldn’t actually see you with someone else, it was always just implied, or he’d see you with Arvin.

Most nights he’d jolt awake and be covered in sweat, and he would still be cursed by the images that flashed before him in his dreams. He just thinks about all the things he wished he could change and how much he’s hurt you. He just thinks about all the things he would say if he ever got to see you, or what he would do to try to win you back. Then, other nights, he’d be much more self-deprecating and he’d internally fight with himself about how you don’t want him anymore, and you’d realize he was never what you wanted.

Now, he can’t believe you’re here across the glass. He could see the pain and exhaustion behind your eyes and he hates that he is the cause of it. He can’t stop looking at you, and part of him thinks he’s actually back in his room, having another dream about you that he will wake up from and find himself alone again. His eyes scan your face and just wants to take in every part of you, it had been so long. Then his eyes land on a shimmer of something on your hand and he might just die in his seat.

“You found it?” he whispers, looking at the ring on your finger. You look puzzled and then you follow his gaze down to your hand. You had forgotten you hadn’t taken it off.

“Um, yeah,” you admit shyly, looking down at it, “I assumed it was mine.”

“It is,” he smiles, pressing his fingertips gently to the glass briefly. “If you really want it.”

“It’d be a shame for it to just sit in the box,” you shrug. Neither one of you say anything for a moment, neither one of you not knowing what to say to fill the silence.

“I’m going to wait for you,” you declare, aimlessly playing with the ring on your finger.

“Are you sure?” he asks. He can’t let himself get too hopeful. Not yet.

“I’ve never been surer of anything, Lee,” you affirm.

“I will make it up to you.”

“Yes, you will,” you joke, making him laugh.

“I love you,” he sighs relieved, like the weight of everything that has held him down this past year just vanished. You wanted him, and he wouldn’t lose you.

“I love you too.”

PART NINE

Taglist:

@scar-is-bi @jiminlife2k18 @asylummaniac01 @rosalynshields @charmed-asylum @jamesbuchananbuckybarnes1917 @alexandrathegreat3 @hersilencedscreams @malar-region @purplerain85 @vesper852 @smilewolfdolan @softshell-taco @champagnebucky @lilacmeadows @mollygetssherlockcoffee @bluebouquetcupcake29 @stucky-my-ship @moonliightbabes @sassy-kassaay @lharrietg @bbmommy0902​ @hoe-for-sebstan 

[justthehiddleswrites]

Accidently Married | Tom Hiddleston x OFC | Chapter 3 | And Miss Out on Mum Meeting the Girl You Married Without Telling Her? Not a Chance

A/N:  Tom makes certain comments about an ex (who is unnamed).  It is a fictional girlfriend, take from it what you will.  Keep your hate to yourself.  

SERIES MASTERLIST HERE

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Molly Bishop)

Summary: Tom is stuck in a news cycle from hell; Molly is stuck in the dead end job of bartending with a pile of student and credit debt.  Tom has an idea to solve all their problems.  Get married, get the paparazzi off his back, divorce after a year and Tom pays off Molly’s debts.  Tom has everything figured out, that is until he sees Molly as more than a just a friend and so does someone else.  In this vying for affections who will win, the handsome Brit or the boy from Boston?

This Chapter: Molly finally gets to meet Luke and they try to convince him that this marriage is not some elaborate plot to manipulate the press.  And Tom makes a critical error.  We learn more about Molly and her past. 

Warnings: fake marriage, smut (vaginal sex), mentions of:  child abuse/neglect, foster care, substance abuse, cheating.

TAGLIST IS OPEN! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED!  THANK YOU FOR READING!

–

Tom regretted drinking two cups of espresso the next morning before heading to Luke’s. He definitely regretted not eating anything more than a piece of toast with butter and marmalade. Even after Molly offered to make something for him.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to make you eggs, an omelette? I could probably manage some French toast before we have to leave.” Molly sipped her tea as she ate some oatmeal. 

French toast sounded divine at the moment as Tom’s stomach did somersaults. Molly’s knee bounced in the passenger seat on the way to the Prosper office. 

“Do you think Luke will yell at me?” Molly asked. “I don’t do well when people yell at me.”

Tom’s head snapped over at her. She sighed. 

“Foster parents are not always kind. Bio parents can be worse.” She wrung her hands. 

He reached over and squeezed Molly’s knee. “I promise I won’t let him yell at you.” 

“Thank you, Tom. Are we telling him the truth?” 

“Only if necessary.” 

“Then what are we telling him?” 

“That I went to Vegas, and I fell madly in love with you and on a whim we got married.”

“A fanciful tale.” Her head dropped to her chest. 

“Oh, I don’t know, darling. You sell yourself short. You’re bright, funny, caring and dare I even say easy on the eyes.”

Molly blushed. “Thank you. You are not so bad yourself. Although I seriously question your dietary habits.”

Tom chuckled. “I’ll work on it. And I hope after all of this we will be good friends.”

“Me too.” 

“Looks like we are here.” Tom parked the car on the street. He hustled around to open Molly’s door and help her out. “Time to face the firing squad.” Her eyes widened. “Kidding!”

By the time the meeting was done, Molly wished it had been a firing squad. 

-

“Luke, this is Molly Bishop, now Hiddleston.” Tom wrapped his arm around her waist. “My wife.” 

“My condolences.” Luke shook Molly’s hand. 

Molly’s brow furrowed. “I…” 

“Of all the stupid shit you have ever fucking done—” Luke started in on Tom. 

“Luke, watch your tone.” Tom jabbed a finger in his publicist’s face. “You are not to yell at Molly.” His bright blue eyes flashed and his fists clenched. 

Luke took a step back. “Right. Take a seat and let’s see if we can straighten this out.” 

They sat next to each other. Molly reached for Tom’s hand and he took it. Luke sat down behind his desk, staring at the two of them. Luke pinched his nose hard and took several deep breaths. Before speaking, he poured a glass of water and dropped two Alka-Seltzer into the water. Molly stared at the whole thing. Tom leaned over. 

“For later. Luke says I give him indigestion.” he whispered.

“And headaches.” Luke added.

“I can understand the feeling.” Molly muttered under her breath.

“I beg your pardon!” Tom twisted around to face Molly. “Et tu. Is this about the vegetables?”

“It wouldn’t kill you to eat one every so often. You’re not 21 anymore.”

Tom gritted his teeth. “I said I would work on it. Can we not talk about this right now?”

“You’re the one who brought it up. I was just making a comment.”

Luke’s head bounced back and forth like watching a tennis match, a smirk growing on his face.

“You two are good. Really good. Damn Tom, the lengths you will go to… hiring an actress to pretend to be your wife, that’s—”

“We got married, Luke. In Vegas.” Tom retorted. “Darling, do you have the copy of the license?”

Molly grumbled. “I do, but we are not done with the whole diet thing.” She rummaged through her purse and produced the folded piece of paper. “Show him the photos.” She whispered to Tom as she handed over the license. 

“I’m not showing him the photos unless I have to.” Tom hissed.

“Show me the photos, Tom.” Luke beckoned him. 

Tom side eyed Molly and handed over the license and his phone. Luke glanced at the license and then scrolled through the photos, eyes growing wider. He zoomed in on one and squinted. 

“Is that a spider ring?” he asked.

“His name is Clive.” Tom deadpanned.

Luke cuts his eyes at Tom. “Of course, you named it. You wouldn’t happen to have the ring, would you?” He turned to Molly.

She let loose a breath, exasperated. “Honestly,” she jabbed a finger at Tom and then Luke. “I was not expecting the Spanish Inquisition.” She dug through her purse again. “You are both lucky that I planned ahead.” Molly slammed the two Tiffany boxes on the desk. “There, here is your pound of flesh.”

Luke opened the boxes and found the spider ring and plastic gem ring. His eyes went to their proper rings and then ran his hands through his hair. 

“Holy shit, you got married.”

Tom rolled his eyes. “I have been saying that for the last 24 hours, mate. Can we move on?”

Molly giggled. 

“I… I… apologize. Sorry.” He sputtered, he turned to Molly. “I’m sorry, Molly. You have no idea the things this man has put me through.”

“I can imagine.”

“Hey! I—”

“Not talking to you, Tom.” Luke held up a hand. “I am talking to your bride. Clearly the reasonable one. Although she did marry you, so…”

Tom slumped in the chair. “Two of you. I thought you were on my side.”

Molly reached over and rubbed his arm. “I’m always on your side, honey.”

Tom smiled and leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Thank you, darling. Do you believe me now, Luke?”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but yes, I do.” He slammed his hand on his desk, rattling his water. “Now let’s talk about these.” He held up several newspapers.

Forty-five minutes later, they finally ended the meeting. Tom was starving. Luke grilled Molly about her background. By the end of everything, Tom now knew that Molly spent the ages of 12-18 in foster care, went to college where she worked two jobs to make ends meet, and has no contact with her younger brother who was adopted. Tom felt a twinge of guilt listening to Molly tell her life story. He never really bothered to ask. 

Luke led them to the door but stopped short. 

“How did your mom take the news, Tom?” Luke asked. Tom froze and paled. Luke leaned in. “You did tell her?”

Molly glanced between them. “I thought you called her when we got home.”

Tom ran his hands through his hair. Little bits stuck up. His mouth fell open and his eyes widened. “I forgot. I was distracted by someone yelling at me.”

“You haven’t told your mother about us?!” Molly screeched. 

Luke chuckled, which soon turned into a full belly laugh. “You are so dead, Tom.” Molly gasped. “You will be fine, Molly, but pray for your husband. There is nothing scarier in this world than Diana Hiddleston mad at her only son.” 

Molly gulped. “I will keep that in mind. Now if you excuse us, we have some calls to make.” 

Tom nodded, still reeling from the fact he didn’t tell his mum, or his sisters, that he got married. Fake or not. He hoped she hadn’t seen any of the photos yet. But knowing Emma and Sarah, they sent her the links. “Right, calls.” 

Molly pushed Tom out of the office and towards the elevator. She waved bye to Luke as the doors closed. 

“That went better than expected.” Molly shifted her weight from side to side.

“Yeah, yeah!” Tom blinked and came back to reality. “You were brilliant. What made you think to bring the rings?”

“People have the tendency to believe you when you can present physical evidence. That, coupled with the photos, lends credibility. I mean, who gets married with a plastic spider ring?” She laughed and Tom joined in. 

“Genius, really. Luke would have never—” Tom’s stomach rumbled. He blushed. “You were right I should have eaten something.” 

Molly stretched to reach his cheek and gave him a quick peck. “You will soon learn I am always right. Let’s find you some food and then you call your mother.”

“Fine.”

-

They found a place for Tom to grab a sandwich since it was too late for breakfast and not quite time for lunch. Molly stared on as Tom inhaled the sandwich, a bag of potato chips, and a bottle of water. 

“Did you taste any of that?”

Tom glanced up at her as he poked the last bit of the sandwich into his mouth. “Yes.” 

She shoved a napkin towards him. “You have crumbs on your face.”

Tom swallowed. “Thanks.”

“Call your mother.” 

Tom slouched. “Can’t we wait until we get home?” 

“No.” She stared him down. “If you don’t do it, I will.” Molly lunged for his phone, but Tom was too fast and grabbed it first.

“I’m calling her right now.” He held the phone to his ear, praying it would go to voicemail.

“Tom!” Diana’s warm voice filled his ear. “How are you doing, love?”

“Doing good. A bit of jet lag, I was in Vegas over the weekend.”

Diana hummed. “And how is Luke?”

Tom chuckled. “Angry at me as always.”

“If you would just listen to him…”

“I like her.” Molly popped in.

Tom waved her off. 

“I know, Mother. Listen,” He fidgeted with his hair again. Molly realized it was an absolute tell when Tom was nervous. “I was wondering if you might like to grab some lunch this week. We can catch up. So much as happened since I last saw you.”

“I would be delighted, Thomas. Why don’t you come up to the house? Does Wednesday work for you?”

Tom mouthed “Wednesday” to Molly, who shrugged her shoulders.

“Like I’m doing anything? You and Luke are the only people I know here.”

“Right.” He returned to the call. “Wednesday is perfect, mum. Noon?”

“It’s a date. Don’t forget to bring that wife of yours, Thomas. I am quite keen on meeting her.”

All the blood drained from Tom’s face. “I… I… can explain—”

“I’m sure you can. On Wednesday. I have to go, love. It was good to chat.” The line went dead.

Tom stared at the phone. “I’m so dead. She knows about you.”

“Oh, she knows. You are her son. And didn’t you mention having sisters? They totally ratted you out.” Molly smiled at him.

-

Tom had some appointments on Tuesday which kept his mind occupied from seeing his mother the next day. Molly took some time to figure out how to change her name, get a new passport, and figure out how to maneuver life in a foreign country. Tom took her to get a phone that would work. 

“Here you go.” 

The first thing she did was snap Tom to add to his contact list. He was laughing in the photo.

“Don’t use that one!” Tom pouted. “Let me pose.”

“But I like this one. It captures your essence.”

But now it is Wednesday morning. Tom woke up early to go for a run. Molly was already up, sipping tea in the living room.

“Can I join you?” she asked upon seeing Tom in workout gear.

“I run about three miles…”

“Sounds perfect. Give me two minutes.” She bounded off the couch towards her bedroom. 

Tom fiddled with his headphones until Molly emerged in sneakers and workout leggings. Over the ear headphones around her neck. 

“Ready to go.” She tucked her phone into a pocket. “I will just follow you.”

“Let me know if you need to turn around.” Tom winked as they set off.

They returned home about thirty minutes later.

“Sure you don’t want to go another mile?” Molly bounced on her feet. 

Tom breathed hard. “Maybe another time. I’m a bit out of shape. You run?”

Molly nodded. “Most days I run. If I get up in time. I miss the gym.”

Tom chuckled. “We need to get you a membership. And I need to ..get into shape myself. Can’t let my wife show me up in paparazzi photos.” he half-joked. 

Molly coughed. “They take photos of you running?!”

“Sometimes.” He took a sip of water, his heart rate going back to normal. “Definitely now with you in the picture.”

Molly raised an eyebrow, stepping towards him, grabbing the water bottle from him. “Think they are out there right now?” 

Tom glanced around and sure enough, he spied a few cameras with zoom lenses down the street.

“Yup.” 

Molly wrapped her arms around his neck. “Maybe we should give them a more scandalous photo.” 

Tom leaned down. “What did you have in mind?” he smirked as Molly tugged his head towards her and her lips crashed against his. She sighed and Tom slipped his tongue into her mouth. Molly did the same. As he fisted the back of her shirt, Tom noticed one of Molly’s arms moving. 

“AH!!” He screamed as the cold water poured down on his head and Molly jumped back laughing.

“I thought you needed a little cooling off.” she laughed.

Tom lunged for her with a smile on his face, droplets of water falling from his hair. 

“You’ll pay for that!” Tom gave chase, while Molly dashed into the house, screaming and laughing.

She made it as far as the living room before Tom’s long legs caught up with her.

“Got you!” 

Tom grabbed her by the waist to pull her towards him, but their feet slipped and they ended up on the couch. Tom on top of her. Their eyes locked for a moment before Tom scrambled to his feet. 

“I’ll get you all wet.” he commented nervously. “I should…”

“Right.” Molly nodded, sitting up. “I’ll make some breakfast. Eggs and toast. I don’t know what your mother is planning on for lunch.”

“A light breakfast would be best.” Tom shook out his now soaked t-shirt and Molly caught a glimpse of his abs. 

“No problem.” She smiled. 

They both headed off in different directions. When it was time to leave for Diana’s house, Molly fidgeted with her casual dress and knee-high boots.

“Do I look okay?” she glanced at Tom in jeans and a sweater. “I’m overdressed. Look at you, casually gorgeous. I’m going to change. I have nothing to wear. Nothing to wear…” Molly’s face broke down.

Tom wrapped his arms around her. “What’s going on, darling?” She buried her head in his sweater. “You didn’t freak out like this when we went to go see Luke.”

“That was business. This is your mother. I don’t do well with families, particularly mothers. What if she hates me?” 

He kissed the top of her head. “First off, you look beautiful. Second, if my mum hates anyone between the two of us, it will be me. She is going to love you, darling.” 

Molly sniffled and dabbed her eyes with the back of her fingers. “Really?”

“I am 100% certain. Now let’s get on the road.”

Molly smiled and nodded. The fear wasn’t gone, but she felt better knowing Tom would be there with her. That fear came rushing back as they stood on the front step of the house of Diana Hiddleston. Tom reached for Molly first. 

“I’ve got you, darling.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek right as the door opened.

“Gross, Tom. And at Mum’s house no less.” Emma gagged.

Tom’s cheeks turned a bright pink. “Emma! I didn’t expect you to be here.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “What a surprise.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “And miss out on Mum meeting the girl you married without telling her, not a chance.” Emma turned to Molly. “Emma.”

“Molly B… Hiddleston.” She smiled and extended her hand. Emma shook it with a firm grip.

“The papers didn’t give a name. She seems nice, Tom. Clearly she doesn’t know the real you.”

Tom continued to blush. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Em. Can we come in or are we eating on the front step?”

Emma held the door open wide and stepped aside. They stepped inside. “Mum’s in the kitchen.”

As if on cue, Diana’s voice rang out. “Is that them, Emma?” 

“They just got here!” she yelled before turning back to them. “She’s been cooking all day.” 

Molly gulped. Tom squeezed her hand. An older woman with grey white shoulder length hair. She came up to Tom's shoulder, if that.

“You were supposed to tell me when they got here.” she scolded Emma.

“I was on my way to tell you.” 

“Go take the food out of the oven.”

“But…” Emma protested.

“Go, child. You’ll have the entire meal to listen to me yell. Right now I need a word with your brother.”

Emma pursed her lips as she walked into the kitchen but made a slashing throat gesture, mouthing the words “you’re so dead” at Tom before disappearing. 

Diana wiped her hands on her apron. “Now where is my new daughter-in-law?” 

Molly raised her hand. “That would be me. Molly, ma’am.”

Diana held open her arms and wrapped them around Molly tight. She realized where Tom got his hugging skills. 

“You are just a doll. Is my son treating you well?”

Molly nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” 

“So polite and much shorter than the last one. Right at eye height for me.”

“Mother…”

Diana waved Tom off. “And please call me Diana or Mum or Mom. I promise I don’t bite.”

Molly giggled. “Yes, ma.. Diana.”

Diana hugged her again before spinning to face her son.

“Tom.” She crossed her arms.

“Mum.” Tom grew very interested in the rug on the floor. 

“Do I get a hug?” Diana smiled. 

Tom looked up and grinned. “Always.” The two of them hugged tight, Tom bending at the knees to wrap his arms around her. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.” Diana pulled back.

Her hand reached out and smacked Tom right upside the head. Tom cowered, covering his head.

“Mum!” he howled.

“You got married and didn’t tell me!”

“I was getting around to it. Luke distracted me!” Tom explained. 

Diana smacked his arm. “Do not blame Luke for this, he is a saint! You were keeping this lovely girl away from me.”

Molly beamed as Diana smacked Tom one more time. 

“You think I’m lovely?” she asked.

Diana turned to Molly. “Oh dear. You are perfectly charming. Unlike my wretch of a son.” Another smack to the chest.

“Really, Mum? In front of our guest?” Tom flinched.

“Molly is family.” Diana stopped, took a deep breath, and smiled. “Now with that sorted, let’s go eat.” She spun on her heel and headed back to the kitchen. 

Tom hooked his arm with Molly’s. “My mother.”

“I like her.” 

-

Emma and Diane pumped the two of them for every detail about this abbreviated courtship.

“A chapel in Vegas, Tom? Romantic.” Emma sneered.

“I thought so.” Molly added.

“Thank you, darling.” Tom leaned against her. 

“Awww.” Emma commented.

Diana stood to clear the dishes as Emma examined Molly’s ring.

“Let me help you.” Tom rose to help, taking the rest of the dishes. Diana grabbed his arm when they reached the sink.

“I really like her, Thomas. You did well.”

“Thank you. She is something.” Tom smiled.

“Much better than the last girl you brought home.”

Tom frowned. “Mum, I…”

Diana held up her hand. “I know. Don’t mention her. But I will say this. There was something about her that didn’t sit right with me.” 

“You never said anything to me.”

Diana smiled softly and cupped Tom’s cheek. “You seemed so in love and happy. And all I have ever wanted for all my kids is to be happy.”

“Oh.”

“But none of that matters. You have Molly now and the two of you have years of happiness ahead.” 

Tom glanced over to where Emma and Molly hunched over Emma’s phone. Tom’s heart twinged with guilt. 

“Right. Of course.” He smiled.

Molly burst out in laughter.

“What is so funny over there?” Tom called out, heading over to the table.

Emma giggled. “Just some old pictures.”

Tom’s face fell. “No, you didn’t…”

Molly giggled. “You were so skinny and that hair!” 

The two girls fell into a fit of giggles as Diane placed a hand on Tom’s shoulder.

“Yes, I like her very much.” she whispered. “Why don’t we pull out the old picture albums?”

Tom groaned. 

[imagineteamfreewill]

Imagine Robbing Dean’s Cabin

Pairing: Robber!Reader x Dean

Word Count: 1,510

Warnings: None

Square Filled: Robber!Reader

Summary: The reader finds what she thinks to be the perfect hit, but it turns out to be less than perfect.

A/N: This is a submission for the 2020-2021 SPN AU Bingo (@spnaubingo​). Please let me know what you think, and enjoy!

X

_______________

“Perfect,” you murmured, and you shifted on the tree branch to get a better look at the cabin. It was empty, just like it had been for the past three months, which made it the perfect hit. You’d been craving a good robbery ever since you’d gotten into town. You were supposed to be getting out of the life, but old habits die hard.

Silently, you climbed down from your perch and slipped between the shadows of the massive fir trees. The ground was blanketed with fallen pine needles and you sent up a prayer of thanks. They kept your footsteps quiet, making it easier to sneak towards your mark, not that that mattered when the cabin hadn’t been used in months.

You were halfway through the kitchen window in the back of the house—some idiot had left it unlocked—when the light flipped on. A man was standing in the doorway, and he had a gun trained on you. It had been a long time

“How do you feel about cops?” he asked, his voice low.

You inhaled sharply, frozen in place as you frantically tried to figure out the best way out of this. You could back out of the window and risk being shot while you tried to escape, or you could climb the rest of the way in and face the man head-on.

“They’re not my favorite,” you finally responded after he raised an eyebrow at you. Slowly, you lowered yourself onto the kitchen counter.

“Me neither,” he replied. He cocked the gun and you glanced towards the nearby door. It led out onto the back porch, which was a straight shot into the thickest part of the forest. If you could only make it there, you had a pretty good chance of coming out of this unscathed.

He gestured with the gun towards the plain kitchen table nearby. When you didn’t move, he took a step towards you and his upper lip curled as he growled out, “Sit.”

Your mouth grew dry and you swallowed hard as you crossed the short distance between you and the nearest chair. It creaked when you lowered yourself into it.

“What’s your name?” the man asked. When you didn’t answer, his jaw clenched and his eyes flickered dangerously. “What’s your—“

“Amy,” you murmured.

“Bullshit.”

You stared at him, pressing your lips together. Who did he think you were, an idiot? No one with any common sense would give their real name after being caught in the middle of robbing a house.

“Listen, I’m not in a good mood, so you’d better stop lying to me. I’m not a person you want to make angry,” he ground out. Though the kitchen was well illuminated, his face was still half in the shadow provided by the hallway, and you suppressed a shiver as fear slid into the back of your mind.

“I wasn’t going to hurt you or anything,” you told him. “I was just gonna take a look around, see if there was anything of value. If you let me go, I promise I won’t come back. You’ll never see me again.”

“There’s nothing valuable here.”

“Great, then let me—“

“No. Stand up,” he ordered. You stayed in your seat until he stepped closer and held the gun to your head.

“Whoa, hey!” you cried, but you got to your feet. This was not turning out the way you’d hopped and your heart was thundering in your chest as the man led you towards the living room. He turned on that light too, then prodded you towards a faded couch against the main wall. You sunk down onto the middle cushion and stared up at him, holding your breath.

“I’m not gonna hurt you if you cooperate,” he told you, and you nodded weakly, exhaling heavily. “Do you do this often? Rob people?”

You shook your head, then thought better of it and murmured, “Not recently.”

“Explain.”

Taking a deep breath, you clutched your hands together and tried to keep your voice from shaking as you told him about the man who’d first coerced you to help him rob someone, and then how it had become something of an addiction. You hadn’t been able to go more than a few days without sneaking into someone’s house or a business to find something that would give you the same adrenaline rush. After a close call that left you in the hospital and your partner six feet under, you’d moved to the tiny town of Evergreen Falls, Montana. You’d been hoping it would be the perfect place to recuperate and find a new hobby, but you’d been wrong. You’d seen this cabin and it had only worsened the itch that nothing seemed to scratch.

“So what was your plan, exactly? You’d just rob me and then go back to living your cute little life in town, and everything would be great? You wouldn’t feel the need to steal anything else ever again?”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were an expert,” you scoffed. If you were being honest, that had been the plan, but when he put it the way he did, you realized that you’d been stupid. Of course you wouldn’t have been able to go back to living a normal life after robbing this place. You would’ve gotten the buzz of adrenaline back and never wanted anything else ever again. Nothing could replace it. You’d tried.

The man stared at you for another moment before the corner of his lips quirked up in a smile. Silently, he uncocked the gun, flipped on the safety, and tucked it under his shirt.

“What if I told you I had a business proposal for you?”

“I don’t typically do business with people who hold me at gunpoint,” you said, keeping your arms crossed over your chest. “And definitely not after they mock me. I know I don’t make the best life decisions, but I don’t need people making fun of me for them.”

He kept silent and stared at you intently, and you shifted uncomfortably under his steady gaze. Finally, you uncrossed your arms and got to your feet.

“Can I go or are you gonna shoot me if I try to leave?” you asked.

He shrugged. “Don’t tell me you aren’t at least curious. You rob places for the adrenaline, right? I can promise you that the rush is ten times better in my line of business, and you actually help people.”

You hesitated, glancing between him and the front door. He was right—you were curious. Quietly, you sized the man up. He was broad-shouldered and he stood tall, and the way he moved stealthily as he walked proved that he was used to sneaking around. You hadn’t even noticed his presence in the cabin until he’d announced himself, and you’d been watching the place on and off for months now. A big part of you wanted to know how he’d managed that, even if you didn’t end up doing business with him. You were an observant person and not much got past you.

“Alright,” you said. “I’ll bite. What is this business proposal?”

“I need someone to help me take something,” he replied.

You rolled your eyes. “Obviously, or you wouldn’t be talking to the person who just tried to rob you. What exactly would you need my help with and why should I help you?”

He glanced towards the kitchen and you waited patiently. Clearly, the man was caught between telling you some sort of lie and telling you the whole truth. 

“My brother and I need to break into a museum and steal a painting.”

“Is it a money thing? A kinky thing?”

His ears turned red. “What? No!”

“Then what is it? Are you thieves? Is someone paying you to bring it to them?”

He shook his head and sighed, running a hand through his hair. “We have to destroy it. If we don’t, more people are going to get hurt.”

You raised an eyebrow and crossed your arms over your chest again. This guy was crazy. “Right.”

“I know it sounds bad—”

“Oh, do you? Good, I was worried you didn’t!”

He sighed again. The man looked up towards the ceiling for a long moment, mumbling to himself before finally saying, “Sit down. I’ve gotta give you the talk if you’re ever gonna take this seriously.”

“I’ve already had the talk, thanks. My parents were pretty specific when it came to the whole birds-and-the-bees thing.”

“It’s a different talk. Just sit down, alright?” He gestured to the couch behind you. 

After a moment of thought, you reluctantly lowered yourself back down again. The man took a seat in a worn green chair that faced the couch and rested his elbows on his knees, leaning towards you.

“Promise me you’ll wait until I’m done to ask any questions,” he said, and you stared blankly at him in response. “Just promise?”

“Fine, I promise.”

“Okay. So my brother and I, we work together…”

_______________

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[listless-brainrot]

Hi! I know you love Haru and I'd love to hear your thoughts on what his personality is like? Not his bending or his ships, but just what kind of person he is. He was super undeveloped in ATLA and I'd love to understand him better and write about him!

hey, i'm glad you asked!! super flattering to have you come to me in regards to this question, and i've analyzed this guy to hell and back over the course of nearly a year now, so i'd be more than happy to give you my characterization of him

granted, it's pretty lengthy, and is heavily based on canon, hence why a lot of it ties to his bending, but i'll try my best to make it so that it's more about haru as a person, rather than his service to the plot

also makes me super happy to hear that people do want to understand and write about him!! that really does mean the world to me particularly, so thank you <3

with all of this in mind, here's a collection of my (pretty lengthy, sorry about that) thoughts:

haru being super undeveloped is actually one of the reasons why i find him so compelling- there’s so much you can do with a character of his caliber because there’s not much canon/supplementary material that can discredit your characterizations. canon, however, does actually supply a characterization of him that i’ve managed to compile and accrue over the course of finding nearly every single little detail i can find pertaining to him. this includes his canon episodes in both book 1 and 3, the videogame he appears in (which is straight up called avatar: the last airbender), and even the silly shorts.

(mild disclaimer, i know full well that the latter two i mentioned are considered non canon, but i like incorporating little bits and pieces of what they have to offer, as i don’t really have any other options. also, the videogames are the only supplementary material where he’s treated as a part of the gaang, so it’s the most personality you’ll ever get.)

i’ll start with main characteristics i try to keep in mind when writing him, and then talk about smaller, more innocuous details that i just find particularly fitting for him.

haru is:

emotionally driven. a lot of his decisions are more driven by emotion, rather than logic. this ties in with his impulsivity and morality. he’s aggravated by his position in the village as the only earthbender left, and this culminates into him still bending discreetly despite the inherent risk. he does this not only for himself, but to preserve the (possibly only) emotional connection he has to his arrested father. this is a similarity he shares with katara, who’s emotionally tied to her mother due to losing her, and haru is the one to understand what that loss really means in this interaction: “this necklace is all i have left of her.” “it’s not enough, is it?” by saying this instead of an apology or some other response, he shows that the feeling of loss she’s experiencing is mutually understood in a way that goes beyond just sympathy. there is nothing that will replace who you’ve lost other than the person themselves, and he understand that more than anyone. it’s also implied that haru doesn’t know if his father is still alive, as no one knows where the prisoners go, but it’s clear that he still holds a sort of hope that he’s somewhere out there, and that keeps him going. it just takes a little bit of outside influence for him to fully believe in that, as well as being reunited with his father again. in general, he’s also pretty receptive of other’s emotions, and is quick to come to their aid.

impulsive. not just impulsive, either- he’s got anger and resentment lying beneath his quiet composure. it’s not as bad as characters such as zuko’s, but it’s still worth mentioning. i’ll mention the impulse part first, though- generally speaking, haru reacts faster than he thinks. upon being spotted practicing his bending by katara, he runs away without pausing to consider the harmful repercussions of being found out (nor followed home). he not only runs away from danger as a first instinct, he also runs towards it in some cases, ironically enough- he’s the first one to notice and immediately run towards the mines once he hears/sees the explosion and suspects that someone’s in trouble. he does this without any prompting by katara, even if the act of actually saving the old man needed some egging on from her in order for him to accomplish. his impulsivity comes to a head in the form of his most dangerous act- him attacking the warden. i’ve already elaborated on that specific interaction here, though i will once again emphasize that haru had absolutely no plans past attacking the warden based on his body language, further fueling the idea that this was just a split second decision, one made on nothing but complete and utter impulse. to bring the anger aspect into this, he’s also unable to hold his tongue and insults the fire nation soldiers and even his town once the former leaves, and his instincts swing wildly between running and fighting on a dime with little in-between.

adaptable. instead of completely shutting down in the face of such a negative situation (and over the course of five years, no less), he brings it upon himself to practice bending, accept his role as man of the house and work in both the shop and on the farm, and other responsibilities that go unmentioned, especially when taking into account that his father is apparently the leader of his village. this is where you could start paralleling him well to sokka, which i have done before, but i will make this more haru-oriented. there is definitely a lot more to be inferred with this particular aspect of him, but i will say that it takes someone of strong will to adapt to the situations presented in his episode, and learning to live with the grim reality of fire nation occupation. to run down what we see again- soldiers freely patrolling the villages, soldiers overtaxing the villagers, soldiers entering wherever they wish unannounced, soldiers stealing away people in the night without much resistance, soldiers forcing villagers to work in the coal mines to gather the coal needed for their ships, and soldiers forcing captured earthbenders to build fire nation ships. this is all off of the top of my head, so i could be missing a lot, but again, seeing haru still be as morally oriented and determined as he is after all of this, it’s pretty impressive and telling of his adaptive capabilities. to take this one step further, he’s also extremely adaptable when it comes to working with others, as in the games he fills his role as a necessary component of the gaang without conflicting sokka or other preexisting roles, and in book 3, he finds his place amongst teo and the duke, taking the most initiative amongst the three.

lonely. a snippet from his personality bio on avatarspirit.net calls him “lonely and brave”, and i think that’s especially fitting for his character. he only had his mom for five whole years after every other earthbender was taken away, and this is without mentioning the ostracization he faced simply being one, given how the fire nation constantly demoralizes his country’s benders and likens them to savages. the village he lives in also appears to be full of old folks, so it’s not very likely that he had friends his age that were even in town, especially if we consider the circumstances of following book 2 episodes with the earth army recruiters. (it’s also unlikely that his friends are alive if they did join the army- take a gander at this line from zuko alone: Gow: Just thought someone ought to tell you, your son's battalion got captured. You boys hear what the Fire Nation did with their last group of Earth Kingdom prisoners? Soldier: Dressed them up in Fire Nation uniforms and put them on the frontline unarmed, way I heard it.  Then they just watched.) furthermore, it’s not likely that haru could’ve left his little village prior to its occupation- the games imply he’d been to omashu previously, but the circumstances of the war make this unlikely, unless he was super young. given his not always pleasant attitude and sullen expression we sometimes see him with, it’s not hard to imagine that the effects of him being so alone without the connections he needs has affected him deeply.

some other things:

-he’s horrible at lying (”they’re crazy! i mean, just look at how they’re dressed” is that really the best excuse you could’ve come up with??). -he doesn’t like keeping his hands/arms still (arms are usually crossed, sometimes gestures as he talks, hands usually balled as if expecting a fight). -he’s pretty outwardly expressive (for someone who’s supposed to be hiding most of the time, he tends to wear his emotions/intentions on his sleeve). -he can’t bite his tongue (especially when it comes to something that goes against his personal beliefs). -he doesn’t know how to react to touch (katara hugging him takes him by surprise both times, and he doesn’t reciprocate often, if anything he reacts stiffly) -he’s particular about his appearance (notably in the games, he makes negative comments about people touching his hair, and there’s also. sokka’s comments in book 3. sigh.) -he’s considered dangerous/sensitive by others (note sokka’s comments in book 1, and katara’s comments in the school time shipping short) -he lives a busy personal life (works both in the family shop and on the family farm, and has probably had to work in the coal mines at some point, though this is speculative) -he’s not above poking/having fun (in the games, he’s not above making fun of sokka and his comments about benders, and jumps at the opportunity to ride the omashu mail chutes) -he’s family oriented (count how many times he talks about his parents, it is many times i assure you, it’s important to note that he’s one of the few atla characters to actually have both parents as well as a decent relationship with them) -he has a tendency to idealize. he talks about his father fighting against the fire nation even when horribly outnumbered. it wouldn’t be surprising if he idealized the ideal of rebellion (which would later bite him given that:) -he’s a part of the first successful earth kingdom rebellion. this is mentioned on the wiki, and is unfortunately not shown in the show. it should’ve been, though. -he’s dramatic. he has an entire cliff he brings katara up to just to be dramatic and spill his sad backstory. he needs to be encouraged to save the old man, but he does it in the most dramatic way possible- he really didn’t have to stop the entire avalanche AND push it back into the mines. drama king. -he is very lucky. this can apply to anyone who encounters the gaang, but honestly, given his personality and a few things i’ve mentioned above, it’s a miracle that he’d survived as long as he did without detection nor suspicion. -he’s creative. (this one is much more speculative, but he does create huge statues of katara and ty lee pretty quickly, maybe he’s done similar things before)

to summarize: he’s a lonely impulsive idealist who isn’t afraid to throw hands if necessary and is also very attached to his dad <3 his connection to his dad makes up at least 75% of his personality

[writethelifeyouwant]

Pretty Boy

Pairing: Sam Winchester (SPN) x Spencer Reid (CM)

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 2.2k

Tags: implied one night stand, college bar, questionable decision making, flashbacks, Stanford!Sam, virgin!Spencer, making out, grinding, back alley blow jobs

Created for: @spnkinkbingo - TedTalk!Sam | @there-must-be-a-lock 3,500 followers / 30th birthday celebration - Sam x Spencer

Summary: When Spencer comes across a viral TedTalk, he's stunned to see he recognises the speaker.

When he gets into the bullpen that morning Spencer goes through his usual routine. His messenger bag and scarf are dropped onto the desk, jacket slung over the back of his chair, and mug filled with coffee that – thankfully – smells fresh. He holds the warm ceramic tight between his hands, letting his fingers re-acclimate themselves to blood circulation after his walk in from the bus station, while his computer flickers to life and his inbox loads.

After years of resisting the advent of modern technology, Garcia had gotten fed up with him and set up his work email address with a few things to tempt him into reading his emails. Every day he comes in to cute pictures of baby animals - courtesy of the chain between Garcia, JJ and Emily - as well as newsletters from medical journals, physics journals, and psychological studies. Spencer opens today’s email from the TED conference series and sips his coffee while he waits for the embedded videos to load. Last week there had been a really interesting keynote on educational psychology, and he hopes there is something equally as stimulating today.

The headline under the video isn’t particularly enthralling, Top Federal Lawyer Shares How To Win - In the courtroom and in life, but Spencer nearly spits out his coffee when the video thumbnail loads and he recognises the speaker.

Sam Winchester. So he’d gotten into law school then. More than that, he was now one of the top Federal Attorneys in the country, according to the bio in the email. God, he’s young to have that job, he’s only two years younger than Spencer. Even Hotch hadn’t made it that far up the legal ladder by 35. He remembers Sam as intelligent, charismatic, intuitive – all skills that would have gotten him far if he shook the right hands along the way, but still – Spencer is quietly impressed.

“Hey, Pretty Boy!” Spencer hears Morgan’s voice distantly but he’s caught up in memories now.

“Pretty Boy!”

Spencer looks up from his drink and turns towards the sound of his nickname, about to tell Morgan to stop calling him that for the millionth time when he hears another voice shout back.

“Dude, can you just stop? I told you not to call me that!”

Spencer and Morgan both look puzzedly at the stranger who’d just told Morgan off. He has bright hazel eyes, and soft looking, light brown hair and – yeah, Spencer can see why someone might call this guy ‘Pretty Boy’.

“Oh, sorry,” Pretty Boy blushes and shakes his fringe in front of his eyes. “I thought you were Brady. I keep telling the idiot to stop calling me that.”

“I keep telling this one the same thing,” Spencer jerks his thumb over his shoulder at Morgan, shocked for a moment that he’d actually spoken. He wasn’t very good at speaking with strangers in bars.

Morgan claps his hand over his chest in mock hurt, expression teasing. “C’mon man, you know I’m only messin’ with you,” Morgan laughs and ruffles Spencer’s hair. “He is pretty though, in’t he?” he whispers conspiratorially at the other Pretty Boy and Spencer shoves Morgan off him.

“You’re lucky I don’t have my gun on me,” he threatens and Morgan holds up his hands in surrender.

“What like you could hit me?” And before Spencer has the chance to retort, Morgan’s dashed off, back to the table where Gideon is sipping a beer and reading through an open case file.

“So, you usually bring a gun on nights out?” Spencer takes a moment to realise the stranger is talking to him again.

“Oh I, uh,” Spencer stutters under the his open, curious gaze. “It’s not, um, I’m an FBI agent,” his voice shoots up at the end making it sound more like a question than a statement. “So it’s not, you know, illegal for me to–”

“Hey, it’s fine,” the stranger laughs and scootches one bar stool closer to Spencer. “I know who you are, actually,” he admits, ducking behind his hair again. “I was in the careers talk earlier.”

“Oh,” Spencer relaxes a little now he doesn’t have to explain himself but then tenses up again remembering how awkward he’d been during the presentation, and not really wanting to relive that experience if this guy was about to make fun of him for it.

“I uh, I’m Sam,” Pretty Boy – Sam – sticks his hand out, and Spencer shakes it, a little perplexed as to why this guy is still talking to him. “I’m uh, guessing I should call you Dr. Reid rather than Pretty Boy, huh?” Sam tries to break the tension with a joke and Spencer realises he’s still holding Sam’s hand, the skin soft and warm under his, and he’s staring pretty intensely at the guy.

“Um, Spencer,” he manages to choke out as he snatches back his hand and tucks his hair behind his ear.

“It’s nice to meet you Spencer,” Sam smiles, genuinely, but with some kind of intensity behind it that Spencer can’t place.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Sam,” Spencer tries the name out on his tongue and decides he likes it.

“I really liked the presentation earlier,” Sam says, taking a sip from the beer bottle he has in front of him.

“Are you thinking about joining the FBI?” Spencer asks, circling his fingers around his own glass to give them something to do, to keep them from creeping back along the bar towards where Sam’s are now resting.

“I don’t know,” Sam shrugs, turning on his stool to face Spencer a little more head on, and giving him a small smile. “I’m pre-law right now, but I thought it would be cool to hear about, I guess.”

“Law is nice,” Spencer nods. “We get a lot of people transferring in from law backgrounds.”

“Did you like the Academy?” Spencer grimaces at Sam’s question before he can help himself. “Oh, maybe not then,” Sam laughs.

“No,” Spencer rushes to explain himself. “I just, when I was there I was still really young, and y’know, people pushed me around a little. I mean, look at me,” Spencer gestures up and down his scrawny body.

“I am looking,” Sam breathes, eyes following Spencer’s hand and dragging across his form. Spencer freezes. Did Sam just… flirt with him? He has no idea what to do with that. He decides to carry on with his previous train of thought instead.

“With a guy like you... you wouldn’t have that problem,” Spencer finishes, feeling himself blush a bit in embarrassment at the lame conclusion. He was not doing a great job at selling the Academy.

“Whaddya mean? A guy like me?” Sam pushes with a knowing grin, that same intensity in his gaze, eyes still roaming over Spencer.

“Well, you, y’know,” Spencer waves his hand in Sam’s direction, hoping that will get his point across, but Sam just sits there smirking at him, waiting. “You’re all tall and, a-and,” his eyes catch on Sam’s shoulders, which are broad, and nicely displayed beneath a t-shirt that’s stretched just a little over the muscles there, “s-strong looking, I guess?” Spencer cringes. God he sounds like an idiot. “I bet you could throw around someone like me, easy,” he shrugs. Sam is still smirking at him, and Spencer takes another drink, trying to cool down the burning in his cheeks.

“You wanna find out?” Sam takes a casual sip of his beer, eyeing Spencer the whole time.

“Find out what?” Spencer’s brows draw together, not following. Sam grins and hops off his barstool, closing in on Spencer’s personal space. Most people might look threatening, doing something like that, but Sam just looks… happy. Carefree, almost – and excited.

“Just how easily I could throw you around,” Sam is still speaking pretty loudly to be heard above the noise of the bar, but he’s pressed himself close up against Spencer’s side and leaned in like he’s whispering in his ear. The feeling of Sam’s breath on his neck is enough to make Spencer shiver, and coupled with the words themselves, Spencer thinks he might just fall off his chair.

Sam pulls back to look Spencer in the eye, and Spencer finally understands what that darkness behind Sam’s irises is – desire, attraction, hunger. Sam’s eyes flick down to where Spencer is licking his lips, a bad nervous habit of his. That desire clouds Sam’s expression even more and he starts to lean down, eyes still fixed on Spencer’s mouth, and a split second before it’s too late, Spencer reaches out and places his hands on Sam’s chest, stopping him short.

“Sorry, I just...” Spencer glances nervously back at Gideon and Morgan who are, thankfully, engrossed in conversation and not paying him any attention. He looks back at Sam and sees the understanding flit across his face.

“Follow me,” Sam checks around them and then reaches up and grabs Spencer’s hand. Spencer makes a small noise of shocked protest but Sam ignores it, leading them around the bar and out a door in the far corner.

They emerge into an ally, dark and shaded from the street lights, and Sam immediately pushes Spencer’s back against the door they just came out of. Spencer stares at him nervously, but doesn’t pull away. This is nothing he’s ever done before. This is what Morgan does, picking people up in bars and slinking off somewhere private to do god knows what. This isn’t Spencer. But Sam’s still looking at him with those bright, beautiful, hungry eyes and Spencer feels something stir in the pit of his stomach that he hasn’t felt for a long time. And as nervous as it makes him, he lets himself admit that he wants this too.

Sam moves closer in, pressing his front against Spencer’s, and he feels solid. Yeah, this guy might be pretty but he could absolutely throw Spencer around if he wanted to. He feels himself shudder against Sam and the fronts of their hips skate against each other, sending a jolt of want to the pit of Spencer’s stomach.

“Hey,” Sam’s voice is low and soft, and it brings Spencer’s attention back to Sam’s face, which is only inches away now. “Is this okay?” Spencer nods, pleadingly, and Sam smiles. Sam’s hand comes up to his face and Spencer leans into it. His eyes slip closed as he relishes the warmth, this is more human contact than he’s had in months. And he doesn’t see it coming because his eyes are shut but then Sam’s lips are on his and wow – they feel amazing.

Spencer’s kissed people before but he’s never been kissed like this. Like he’s being devoured. Like he’s everything Sam could possibly want. And Sam is certainly everything Spencer could want. He pushes his hands up into Sam’s hair and pulls him in tighter. Sam moans against him and wedges their thighs together and Spencer swears that when he tugs on Sam’s hair again he can actually feel the twitch in Sam’s pants in response.

Sam is getting harder by the second and Spencer can feel Sam coaxing the same reaction out of his body. He juts his hips forward experimentally and the answering groan from Sam matches his own. Fuck, that feels good. And Sam feels big. Jesus Christ, Spencer doesn’t know how it’s possible for a guy to feel that big through that many layers of clothing and he can’t stop himself imagining how big he would be if he wasn’t trapped behind those jeans.

Sam grinds their hips together again and ducks his head to nip at Spencer’s neck, sucking a spot into the skin that’s visible above his collar.

“Oh my god,” Spencer whines, and he feels Sam grin against his throat, lips twitching in a smile.

“That feel good?” Sam murmurs against his skin, and when he ruts their cocks against each other again Spencer thinks he might die.

“God, yes,” Spencer pulls Sam’s lips back to his and kisses him hard and messy. Sam’s hands drag down Spencer’s chest and rub over his cock and Spencer’s breath actually chokes off in his throat.

“How far do you want this to go?” Sam asks against his lips, not wanting to break the kiss.

“I– I want…” Spencer knows what he wants but he’s scared to ask for it. He’s never done this before. The making out with a stranger in a dark ally part, or the more than ‘kissing and accidentally coming in your pants’ part. He doesn’t want to do that. What he wants is to drop to his knees and get Sam’s cock in his mouth. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to say it, so he goes for the next best thing.

Spencer drops to his knees with a thud, and looks up at Sam – panting, waiting.

“Fuck yes,” Sam moans and tears into his jeans, fists his cock out of his boxers and – yeah, he’s big. Shit, Spencer gulps, genuinely salivating at the thought of getting that between his lips. “This what you want?” Sam strokes himself in front of Spencer’s face and he can only nod, fascinated, not taking his eyes off the shiny red tip that is just begging to be sucked. “Alright Pretty Boy, let’s see what you got.”

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[flying-nightwing]

Scorpion (1/2)

I am still working on Op. Solarstorm, but I had this playing in my mind for far too long to keep ignoring. Also, not me back at it again with my favourite tropes and villain!reader? lmao. Anyway, enjoy!

Masterlist in bio/pinned

Pairing:

Dick Grayson x f!reader (villain)

Word count: 5217

Warnings: Language, violence, steamy stuff hehe ;) but no nsfw, kind of angst? also reader being so fucking dramatic Summary: You are the resident bad guy of Blüdhaven, former supervillain, nemesis of Nightwing and master toxinologist in your own right. One night, however, you receive an unexpected visit that convince you to return to your former alias, Scorpion. (Based off a prompt I can’t find in my likes anymore but I’ll link it as soon as I find it)

The storm raged outside.

The rain pelted down your windows, blurring the view of Blüdhaven’s skyline almost entirely. Only the occasional thunder bolts lit up the horizon, just enough to see for a fraction of second the dark clouds glaring down the city. The wind howled as it navigated around the skyscrapers, washing away the droplets of rain as soon as they crashed down.

You stood in front of the curtain wall of your condo, sipping a glass of wine and watching it all unwind like a movie. You found the storm relaxing, as if the loud growl of it drained all the negative energy stored within you and released it as a powerful blast out into the world. You smiled at the thought; if only you could possess that much power to smithe your enemies, your job would be about a hundred times easier. 

You were about to leave your window for a refill when you heard the faintest thud at your door. You frowned, waiting a moment, before shrugging and resuming your course for the kitchen. However, before you could get there, another sound reached your ears, this time, unmistakably two quiet knocks. You placed your glass on a hallway table beside a flower vase and went to the door, peeking through the glass eye. When you saw nothing, you backed up and reached for the switchblade tucked under the waistband of your pants, then placed a careful hand on the knob. You twisted and pulled the door open, and your muscles tensed at the sight in front of you.

Your fight or flight instinct kicked in for a second as your eyes registered the black and blue before anything else, but you held back that reaction when you noticed something was wrong. While there was no doubt the man on the other side was Nightwing, the vigilante that always managed to spoil your plans or stop your schemes, he looked nothing like the cocky vigilante who would have already delivered a clever one liner as soon as he got a glimpse of your face. 

No, that man was hunched on the wall, his footing staggering and his suit ripped on the arms and the torso. He was drenched and visibly weak, and his mask was broken over his left eye. Even if you could see only half of it, you noticed the blown pupil that expanded over most of his iris. Like his reaction time had been put in slow motion, he finally lifted his head, his gaze swaying from left to right. He had been clearly drugged.

“I’m sorry” His voice was shaky and breathless. “I’m sorry… I had nowhere else to go”

You noticed only then he was clutching his stomach, even if he wasn’t bleeding specifically there. You snapped out of your stupor, putting your arm around his torso and holding him up as he crashed forward. You managed to pull him in your condo with you and shut the door behind you with your foot. He was heavy, especially since he probably didn’t have the control of his muscles at all to help you with the weight, but you managed to get him to your couch. You laid him down, being careful not to let his head bounce on the way down. You put the back of your hand on his forehead, and he was burning. Even through the rain on his skin, you could see the coat of sweat on his face and down his neck. Switchblade in hand, you cut through what remained of his suit and slipped it off him before he caught his death from wearing cold, soaking wet clothes on top of whatever else was happening. He started writhing on the couch, moaning in pain and still clutching his stomach. You saw that it was swollen and tender under all the shallow fresh cuts littering his body, and immediately you understood that he hadn’t been drugged, he had been poisoned.

You moved up his body again and kneeled beside his head, gently removing his domino mask. He was so out of it he didn’t even notice your cold fingers on his face, nor your saddened sigh. It had been a while since you had seen him without his mask, and yet, he was still as shockingly beautiful as he was years ago. You didn’t waste time appreciating his beauty however, as you were most probably on the clock. You stood up and left him there for a second as you grabbed your emergency kit labelled poison/venom and brought it back to him, kneeling once again. You grabbed the flashlight first, leaning above his face and pulling the eyelids of his right eye open. You flashed the light in it, but the pupil remained blown, completely ignoring the sudden brightness. His left eye was the same. 

Quickly, you put the flashlight away and grabbed a plastic syringe, capping it with a needle. You made sure the air was out before finding the vein in his arm and plunging the needle in it. You filled it with blood and put it aside while you fished the toxicity test, then put a small amount of blood in the vial and twirled it to mix it with the powder. You waited a minute and checked the scale, which told you if left untreated, whatever was flowing through his veins would be very lethal. You swore under your breath as you pushed to your feet again, heading for your bedroom and your walk in wardrobe. At the back of it, you punched a code in a pad and the wall pulled slightly toward you. With a tug, you pulled it all the way out and grabbed the first o negative blood bag as well as tubes and a stand to hook it on. You returned to him and prepared his transfusion in a record time, setting the bag and the tubes then putting once again a needle in his arm. At this point, he had stopped moving, but his chest still rose and fell in jagged motions. 

You remained there a couple of seconds more to be sure he was really passed out, then you grabbed the syringe filled with blood and moved everything else out of the way. You put the syringe on the counter while you dragged your working station from another room--only now glad that you made the choice to have it on wheels--and put it so you could have a good view of Dick even when working. You took the time to put gloves, then brought the syringe with you and sat behind your microscope.

You put a drop of blood on the slide and got to work.

---

You waited in the dark warehouse, your ears strained for any other sound than the water leaking from the roof. Your double edged spear was prominent on your back, glistening under the faint light coming from the bright spot outside. You hadn’t taken it out in a while, but its blades were still sharp and deadly. You hoped the sheer sight of it would be enough to remind your rendez-vous who was in charge here, but you wouldn’t mind using your weapon once again. 

You stared deeper into the building as quiet footsteps grew closer, and seconds later, your contact emerged from the darkness. You let them come to you as you remained attentive to your surroundings. Just because they were an old colleague of yours, it didn’t mean you trusted them. If anything, it made them even more dangerous in your eyes. 

“Scorpion” They greeted with a smirk, using your old nickname. You couldn’t help but let a chuckle at the memory of the good old days, when you definitely wouldn’t have gone to such lengths for Nightwing out of all people. “What owes me the pleasure of getting your call tonight?”

“I need some intel” You went straight to the point, fishing a small vial from your black trenchcoat, holding it up to eye level. “This is a very rare sample of Diamondback rattlesnake venom I extracted from the blood of an unfortunate victim. Any idea how it got into Blüdhaven without me knowing?”

They raised an eyebrow after giving the vial a quick glance. “Are you accusing me of smuggling it into the city?”

“Not yet” You carefully replied. “But I believe you might know who did”

“Listen” They sighed as you put back the sample in your coat. “You’ve been out of the game for a while now. Things have changed down here, and it’s not my place to question the chain of power”

“Have they?” You challenged, sweeping the room once again and noticing they hadn’t brought back up. Decidedly, someone somewhere got ahead of themselves and forgot their place. 

“Uh?”

“Have things really changed?” You slowly raised an eyebrow. You felt dread creep in their eyes. “I want a name”

“None can do” They backed up slowly, palms up. “You hold no power here anymore, so you should just go back to your tower and keep your nose in your mob business before we both get killed”

“I guess we’ll see, won’t we?” You mumbled, looking them up and down. Then, you reached behind your back to get your spear. You striked rapidly as they jumped back, the blade slicing the skin of their biceps. You spun it in your hand and put it back on your back.

“What the f--” They swore, glaring at you. “You’re truly out of it, Scorpion. Can’t even hit your fucking target now. That’s why nobody’s scared of you anymore”

“If you think I missed, then you’ve learned nothing” You simply smiled as you backed away. “You’ll remember who’s in charge soon enough. Have a good life, what’s left of it anyway”

You turned around and walked away, thinking about how the powerful venom coating the blades of your staff was strong enough to cause seizures in about fifteen minutes, and death in fifteen more.

---

You returned to your condo as the sun began to be visible over the horizon, the soft light basking the whole living room in a yellow hue. You quietly went back to your room, changing from your drenched trench coat and black suit to a cream colored blouse and burgundy slacks. You carefully put back your spear in its locked case, keeping its blades far away from any exposed skin.

You returned to the living room, pausing beside Dick who was still passed out. His breathing was slower, more even now, so the antidote you had prepared before leaving had worked. The fever seemed to have died down, and you guessed his stomach wasn't swollen anymore. You didn’t want to pull off the two heavy blankets over him to check and let his bare skin come into contact with the cold of the room. You checked the solute solution that replaced the blood bag on the stand, knowing you wouldn’t need a refill once it was empty. Knowing the man, he’d wake up anytime soon. 

You cleaned up the room and brought back your working station to your office, then sat at your computer to catch up on some work your now ex-accountant messed up. After a couple of hours, you took a nap that turned into something closer to a night full of sleep, and only woke up in the late afternoon. You were surprised Dick was still out when you checked on him, it wasn’t his type to fall into the average of anything, especially not recovery time. 

You had to wait well after sundown for him to stir awake with a groan, then slightly panic as he took in his surroundings. He tried to sit up, but fell back onto his elbows.

“Take it easy” You said, bringing his attention to you for a second before he averted his gaze. “You had quite the dose of venom in your blood. You’re lucky you even made it to my door”

Even with his gaze casted down, you could see he was confused by the soft tone you spoke to him with. It was a far cry from the threats and insults you usually shared when he decided to come and interfere with your business. Yet, you didn’t like the idea of someone else out there trying to kill him, despite the fact that you had done so many times in the past. You and Nightwing had been long standing rivals, fighting for the same turf when you were Scorpion and now that you had your own mob to manage. He knew where you stood, and you him, creating a dynamic where unspoken rules were religiously being respected by both parties. And well, you hated when rules were broken, especially by people with no respect for them, especially when they targeted your nemesis.

You stood up and walked to him, sitting on the coffee table beside him. You brushed your hand down his cheek to his chin, gently pushing up so he could meet your eyes. They were still a bit glassy and unfocused from the venom, but the pupils had regained their normal size. The white around his dark blue irises was bloodshot, and the dark bags under his lids were prominent. In the years you had known him, you had never seen him so battered, so down, so not… him. Even if you were by all purposes and intents enemies, it still sparked a rage within you. You could feel the anger rise in your throat at the defeated face staring back at you, but you willed it back inside. For now.

Your voice was barely a whisper, but it still conjured a divine wrath with every word. “Who did this to you?”

“Doesn’t matter” He mumbled, but he didn’t have the strength to conceal his lie. He tried to get up, but his muscles failed him. 

“But it does” You shook your head, not letting him look away. “Someone injected you with venom and tortured you. It cannot go unanswered, not under my watch”

Something switched in his eyes, before it was buried under resolve in front of your insisting. “Sionis”

Suddenly you saw red. You knew he had been in town for a few weeks already, but you mostly ignored him, thinking he’d go away on his own after concluding whatever deal he was there for. You had no doubt he had been the one to take over Blüdhaven’s underworld right under your nose and turn everyone against you. Unbeknownst to them, you were still the most dangerous person in this city and it was well past time to remind them of it. 

“Stay here, you need to rest” You ordered, gently pushing him back on the couch. “When you’ll feel strong enough to stand up, there’s food in the fridge”

“Wait, where are you going?” Confusion etched on his features.

“I’m going to have a little chat with Sionis”

“(Y/N), no” His voice was strained as he pushed himself off the couch and tried to stand up again. The use of your name made you halt your step to face him as he struggled to stay on his feet. “You don’t… You can’t…”

You retook the steps towards him, stopping right in front of him. “You came to me last night for help, so let me help”

“I know but…” He trailed off, sighing. “I can’t let you fight my battles, it’s not right”

“I’m not, I’m doing what I should have done weeks ago. I have let the infection fester in the wound for far too long, and now it’s time to clean it” You placed a hand on his cheek, and he didn’t fight it. “It’s our city, and if Sionis thinks he can take it, he’s gravely mistaken” 

“It doesn’t mean I want it to be taken back your way” His eyes flashed pain as he shook his head slightly. Yet, he still didn’t back off, but you retracted your hand like it touched fire. “Scorpion left a trail of bodies wherever she went. I may still not approve of your current career, but nothing will let me morally support your descent to that rabbit hole again”

Your features hardened at his words. “Those are bold claims for a man who cannot take two steps without crumbling” You spoke calmly, but the harsh undertone in your voice was a dead giveaway of your bitterness. “I don’t want to see you hurt, I think we’ve established that a long time ago. But I feel like it’s a good time to remind you that what was given can be taken away”

“You’re threatening me now?”

You gave him a cold smile as you backed away. “Oh honey, you’ll know when I’m threatening you”

“So we’re back to this uh?” His sneer transcended his weakened physical state.

“You should rest” You deflected, not ready to answer that just yet, not to him, anyway. You hated to see disappointment on such handsome features, even if it was pretty much the only thing you ever saw anymore. “This isn’t a hangover you can shake off with a tylenol and a smoothie. You need to let the antidote work” 

He only held your stare, the disappointment you dreaded steadily growing in his blue eyes. His lack of words were as effective as his worst scolding. Without breaking eye contact, you fished your phone from your pocket and dialed the first contact in your list.

“Borovski, arrange a last minute meeting with Mr. Sionis” You spoke in a flat tone. “Yes, let him know that Scorpion requires an audience”

------

You found the place of the meeting peculiar. 

The underground casino was crassy, a cloud of cigarette smoke hanging low in the air. No players were sitting at the tables, no bartenders were on duty, only a handful of armed guards giving you a not so warm welcome into the establishment and one man in a purple sequin suit.

“Ah, Scorpion!” Sionis called as he stood up. Then, he paused as he took you in. “I must say, you are not what I expected”

You raised an eyebrow at the grimace he made, but he kept looking you up and down as if there was something he didn’t quite catch. Finally, his eyes stopped on your spear on your back, and his face lit up with understanding. He laughed, but it seemed way too forced.

“Oh, I get it now!” He wiped nonexistent tears from his eyes as he pointed back and forth between you and the spear. “It’s because the spear’s like a scorpion tail. Very clever!”

“I’m glad to see there are no explanations required then” You scoffed sarcastically as you took one step forward. Immediately, his guards closed in on you.

“Aht aht,” He held a finger up, waving it obnoxiously. “I might find it clever, but there is no scenario possible in which you come close to me with that thing. Hand it over”

“Afraid of a little blade, Sionis?” You taunted, nevertheless taking your spear off your back and handing it to one of his goons. 

“Nice try, but we both know it’s not just the blade” He made yet another grimace as you got cleared to come closer. “Men, be careful not to touch the shiny part of it, kay? I’d hate to stain the floors with your dead bodies”

You smirked as you sat down in the chair he gestured to, resting your arms on the empty poker table. He sat down sideways in front of you and crossed his legs, bouncing his feet to an imaginary beat. “So... Miss Scorpion,” He began, a hint of humour in his voice like the situation was amusing. “I gotta say, I admire your previous work. But how long has it been since then? Five, six years? Where have you been?”

“Seven” You corrected. “I inherited a criminal empire from my father, changed vocations. Rather than sting people, I synthesize antidotes to the most potent venoms and sell them for quite a fortune per dose”

“Uh, I heard you were in the drug market” He frowned. “Perhaps my intel was… Mistaken”

“That too” The corner of your lips went up. “Well dosed, venom makes for a fantastic psychedelic. But worry not about your circle, those are no street drugs. Not a lot of people can afford it, in fact”

He nodded slowly. “So you want what exactly, to sell to me?” 

“No” You shook your head, your smile turning just a bit more sinister as you grabbed the rattlesnake venom vial and rolled it to him. Slowly, he picked up and observed it, recognition flashing in his features. You leaned forward, setting your stare on him. “I’m here for other concerns. Like you bringing venom in my city without my authorization”

He sat back in his chair, amused and unimpressed. He twirled the vial in his gloved hands, lazily studying it. “It’s not your city anymore” He shrugged. “It was right there for the taking, and honestly it is so much more fun than Gotham, without a gloomy bat lurking in the dark”

You didn’t react immediately. You simply observed him, then subtly calculated the distance of each goon from him. In theory, their reaction times would be slow enough for you to get to Sionis. But you held back, knowing he’d expect it now. 

“That’s what your smuggler said, too” You hummed, watching closely as his eyes met yours. He mustn’t be happy about that, because his expression became a notch darker. “Before I killed them, that is. But I guess I did you a favor in doing so. They would have sold you out to the next opportunist. Nobody likes a traitor, right?”

He regained his composure, but the bitterness in his eyes didn’t leave. “When I heard you wanted to meet, I thought it’d be to apologize to me for your misstep” He took a deep breath. “I was ready to let you go with some compensation for my loss in the form of doing my dirty work, I really was. But now I see you still want to be insolent--”

“Alright, I’ll say this once and only once” You interrupted him, and he instantly grew offended. “Get out of my city. Leave and never come back, or Nightwing won’t be the one you’ll be facing”

“So, this is what got your panties in a twist” He laughed, then seriousness fell back down on his features in a snap. “Kill her”

Before they could move, you pushed out of your chair and grabbed your switchblade in your belt. Your footwork was swift as you spun around Sionis, avoiding the range of the gun he was pulling out, and stopped behind him. A second later, his head was slammed down on the table and your blade was pressed to his throat. You looked up at the goons who had halted their movements, suspense of what you’d do next hanging in the air. 

“Drop your weapons” You ordered, nodding at the gun aimed at you. “C’mon, off with it. Kick them away too”

“Drop your weapons” Sionis repeated through his teeth, not daring to move a muscle. God knew what was on your blade, and if you drew blood, it’ll most likely be over for him. “Fuck!”

Slowly, they lowered their weapon to the ground and kicked them toward you. “Good” You huffed out before leaning closer to Sionis. “Now maybe you won’t underestimate me anymore. This is only a taste of what will come to you if you keep provoking me. I’ll destroy you like a poison running its course through a healthy vein, and you’ll regret setting eyes on my city. Understood?”

“You fucking bitch” He panted, a twisted smile on his lips. “You’re fucking dumb if you think you can get out of here alive. You’re out of your league, little girl”

“Really? I was under the impression that your life mattered more than mine” You said as you pressed your blade further, exposing the metal to his blood long enough to know the venom got in. You retracted your blade, but kept the hand on his head. “If I don’t make it out of here, neither will you. You’ll be dead in thirty minutes, like your smuggler. It’s gonna be painful and ugly, trust me. But if I walk out of here, in five minutes you’ll have a delivery boy knocking at your door and handing you the antidote. So what’s it gonna be, Sionis?”

He took a moment, exhaling loudly as his breathing quickened. “Go” He muttered harshly, glaring up sideways at you with a thousand daggers. “Fucking shit hell, go!”

You grinned, making the motion of leaving, but you weren’t done just yet. “One more thing” You slammed his head on the table once again before letting him go. “Nightwing is off limits. You’d do well to remember it”

You backed off of him, letting him stand up again and adjust his suit with an undignified huff. His eyes shot thunder at your back as you retreated, smugly taking your spear out of a goon’s hand and exiting the casino. 

You weren’t such a fool not to expect retaliation, but at least you could say he had been warned through an over of what would be waiting for him. 

-----

You weren’t expecting a welcome party back home, but Dick was there, on his feet, leaning on the couch as he glared at the front door. 

“I thought you’d be back to sleep by now” You mused as you got in your apartment. You dropped your keys on the counter and made a show of putting down your spear. His eyes burned into yours as he watched your every move like a hawk. You raised an eyebrow as you took off your coat, then unclipped your utility belt and dropped it beside your keys. “Why now, are you finally out of clever one liners?” 

He scoffed, then crossed his arms against his chest and looked away.

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t know why you’re mad I went after Sionis” You kept speaking, as he clearly gave you the silent treatment. “Who, by the way, tried to kill you with rattlesnake venom, in case you have already forgotten”

“I’m not mad” He finally mumbled. “I’m mourning the days where I didn’t have to worry about you going on a killing spree anymore”

“Is that all you think of me?” Your tone turned dry as you took one step toward him. “A loose cannon that needs to be held on a leash?”

“I don’t know” He shrugged sarcastically. “From what I remember from your so called glory days, bodies pile up pretty quickly when you’re in a mood”

You closed your eyes as your eyebrows rose in disbelief. “I’ve always liked you, Dick” You began after taking a deep breath. “As yourself and as Nightwing. We’ve always had a lot of common enemies, and I was fine with sharing this city with you”

You paused, slowly closing the distance between you and him. His muscles were tense, and his posture was defensive.

“If you think this was bad, oh you’re in for a treat, honey” You were face to face now. “I held back out of respect for you. Sionis is alive, out of respect for you. I healed you out of respect for you. Now that I know none of that respect is reciprocated, what stops me from fully being the bad guy?”

He stood up fully, towering over you. You had to look upwards to hold his glare.

“Me”

You smirked. “You’re so full of yourself”

“You don’t believe I can?”

“Well, you couldn’t when I was holding back”

“What makes you think I wasn’t holding back too?” He raised a challenging eyebrow.

“You had no reason to leave me out on the streets to pile up bodies, as you put it so eloquently” You taunted. “Unless…”

You inched closer, your faces only inches apart now.

“Unless you liked the chase as much as I did”

“In your dreams” He sneered.

“Oh, every night without a fail” 

Before you could blink, he sneaked his hand behind your head and crashed his lips to yours. You were surprised, but you didn’t waste time leaning into it. For a man still weak from his previous poisoning, he recovered his spunk pretty quickly. His fingers dug into your side as you moved against each other, and if you didn’t know better, you’d believe he was trying to leave bruises on your skin. You returned the favor, brushing your hands against his bare chest, but his reaction wasn’t the one you had anticipated. He hissed, probably still sensitive around the stomach from the effect of the venom, and you took the opportunity to catch his lower lip between your teeth, giving it a soft bite. 

“Fuck” He grunted, his eyes fluttering close.

“Are you sure you’re strong enough for this?” You hummed, tracing the dark bags under his eyes with your thumb. He opened his eyes once again, an incredulous and slightly offended glint in them that told you he was tired of you asking any variant of this question. “Alright, no need for hostility”

You returned your lip to his as he steadily backed you through your condo, navigating with assurance toward your bedroom. Your back pushed the door open with a thud, and soon after, you felt the mattress pressing behind your knees. You sat back, peeling off your shirt from your body and scooting further back on the bed. Dick climbed after you, pushing you on your back and wasting no time to crawl all over you again. You heard noise in the background, but you were too busy focusing on how blissful his mouth down your neck to your chest and back up made you feel. You barely noticed when your hands were brought up above your head, or when cold metal was secured around your wrists with a click. 

Then, his body weight above yours was abruptly taken off. You reopened your eyes, mind still a bit fuzzy as you stared in confusion at Dick standing at the foot of the bed. Your frown deepened when you gave a good tug on your wrist, but couldn’t bring them down. You narrowed your eyes, then read his smug expression and understood what he did. You were tempted to be mad, but you couldn’t help but give him a full blown grin”

“Well, well, well” You drawled out, relaxing back. These were your handcuffs, you knew there was no getting out of them so easily. “I gotta say, I’m impressed. Using my attraction to you to get me temporarily out of commission is cold. I didn’t know you had it in you”

“Well, you had it coming” He crossed his arms against his chest, but in a more relaxed manner this time. 

“Playing dirty now, are we?” You chuckled as you shamelessly checked him out. “Very well then. Next time we meet I’ll have adapted my game. I hope you’re ready”

You might have imagined it, but a small smile played on his lips just before he turned around and left you there, handcuffed to your bed frame.

[irondadfics]

do you have any bio!dad recs where peter isn't kidnapped? where he got to grow up with tony as his dad? thanks for all u guys do!!

(@dreamworld27​ Many of the following are also bio mom!pepper, so we’re combining asks. ALSO, check out this old rec list of ours. We believe you’d like it)

Hardest Lessons (Softest Results) by mainstreamelectricalparade 

“Sorry, sir, but Miss Potts has been trying to reach you for fifteen minutes and overrode my Do Not Disturb setting,” JARVIS replied, at least managing to sound a little sheepish thanks to Tony's flawless programming.

“You're lucky I don't have time for a lecture,” Pepper said sternly. “I need you to come to my office right now, there's a bit of a situation.”

“Didn't I hire you to deal with those so I don't have to?”

“Not this one,” Pepper said. “There is absolutely nothing about this that you can pass off on me. Mary Fitzpatrick from our research department in New York is outside. She says she needs to talk to you.”

That didn't sound like something Tony couldn't pass off. “And?”

“She's pregnant.”

Made of iron, born of fire by iamgoingtocrash and savvysass

Faced with impending fatherhood, Tony Stark has multiple emotional crises, realizes he needs to make some life changes, gets to know the mother of his child better, bonds with his makeshift family, and finds unconditional love in his son.

Broken Wings Series by slothbeans

Tony Stark was known by many names.

The name that always the felt most accurate was Incubus.

In a world protected by Angels, it felt right to be recognized as a demon. He wasn’t the biblical presence everyone prayed for, but he believed that was fair, because he was something the world needed to keep balance. In a world filled with purity and love, there had to be evil to balance it out. Some people had to be bad.

I love you more than anything series by iron_spider

Pepper sighs heavily but doesn’t look away from him. “There is a woman on line one, her name is Mary Fitzpatrick—”

Tony feels like someone breaks an ice cold egg on the top of his head. Frozen yolk spearing down the back of his neck.

“—and she says she had your baby, Tony. Two days ago, she’s still in the hospital. She’s one hundred percent sure it’s yours.”

Tony stares at her.

Yeah, he’s had this happen before. It’s never panned out, always been a cash grab, and if he does have any biological kids out there, the mothers haven’t contacted him. All the ones that tried their hands were bullshitting.

But he remembers Mary Fitzpatrick.

And without picking up the call, without taking a test, without seeing the baby—he knows.

White Clouds by Mogoona3000

Slowly but surely, Tony's life is nothing but a product of occurrences taking place around him, for him, to him.

But for the first time, he chooses what changes, when it changes and how it changes. He chooses Peter.

These are the occurrences that dance around this new relationship. This is how choosing to raise Peter unfolds.

Radioactive by @justme--emily​

Things haven't always been great between Tony Stark and his son. He wasn't ready to become a father...didn't even know he had a son until the boy's mother died. Over time, though, he thought he got the hang of it. But that was before his son went on a field trip to Oscorop and was seemingly left fighting for his life. *Written for Iron Dad Big Bang*

Stardust series by cold_nights_summer_days

Nightmares plagued Peter Stark even before his dad went missing, but they were a hell of a lot easier to deal with when he was there.

OR

Some late night stargazing because I can't let go of the headcanon that little Peter would love space and Tony would love teaching him about it. Fight me (or please don't, actually, I don't want to go to the emergency room)

His greatest creation series by peterstank

Stark men don’t quit. Stark men brush off their knees as they get back up and fix their mistakes. Tony’s not stupid; he knows he’s made plenty of them. He has a ledger-full, a laundry list.

But somehow, this doesn’t feel like one of them.

or: the one where tony finds out he’s going to have a kid and he thinks maybe, just maybe, he could try giving the whole ‘dad’ thing a go.

Outsider by PinkEasterEggs

Peter tries to find his place in the world after the Avengers defeated Thanos. As much as he knows he's loved, he can't shake the feelings of being replaced when he comes into a new world where his father is now married and had another child.

To be where you are by pinkbelle

A series in which Peter is Pepper & Tony's biological son, but otherwise compliant with MCU up to IW/Endgame

Close to the ground series by boo_boo_thefool

“Not done,” Tony slices a hand through the air, and Peter shuts his mouth immediately. “Because you must have done something. Last I remember, your mother wasn’t an insect.”

Peter winces, but he can’t help mumbling an “Arachnid,” under his voice.

“Excuse me?”

“Spiders are arachnids, not insects.” Mask clutched in his hands, staring at the floor, Peter decides this might just be one of the worst moments of his young, ever persisting life.

(...or the civil war biodad au that no one asked for.)

I promise you kid that i give so much more than i get series by geralt_of_rivia

Tony had dealt with blood before, he was an engineer. He’d nearly lost fingers, had accidentally sliced open major veins. But this, this wasn’t just any blood, this was Peter’s blood.

//

Peter gets an injury that really isn’t as bad as it seems, single dad Tony has some obligatory dad panic. + some extra fluff I tossed in to try and soothe myself after the horror that was the unmentionable movie. It’s pre-IronMan though so there’s no movie spoilers whatsoever! Safe to read!

What We Are series by Yellowdistress

Starks didn't create beautiful things. They created weapons that destroyed beautiful things. That was the way it had always been.

But when the four-year-old's wide eyes blinked at him, Tony was struck with the sudden realization that maybe that had been a lie.

[chessdaze]

@khoc-week ⭐ Day 1 - 8/1 

◾ Reference Sheet 

I actually drew one for Sid last year but I decided to update it. His design overall hasn’t changed it’s mostly my style that has - and the quality of my work so I’m glad I was able to redo him for this year. I really want people to get to know him properly this time. 

I’ll repost the original world lore and his background below, but I also want to answer the prompt question In character so here’s that:

◾ How would your character describe themselves?

“Eh, what kinda question is that?” Sid raises an eyebrow, but it’s barely noticeable over his large round sunglasses. “I dunno, smart, stubborn, and uhhhh tough?” There’s a pause. “I was one o’ the only kids t’ even go t’ school back in the city, and Helio and Mari never fuckin’ give me a moment t’ breathe without telling me o’ my stubbornness. As for tough, well, the muscles ain’t for show, I guess.”

“What ya askin’ me this for anyhow? I got work t’ be doin’, these houses won’t build themselves.” 

Now for world info and sid’s bio:

the world trapped in a desert

The Basics

Cindergate is a city that has seemingly seen disasters, parts of the city are being rebuilt and other parts completely abandoned and falling apart. It’s cut off from the vast desert around it by a large, also crumbling, gate. The city has a mix of technology, though seems to shun anything too ‘high tech’.

The city has a population of tough individuals who know how to survive in harsh conditions. Most of the population in this world are human, with occasional animals who can also survive the harsh sun and heat. These people are ruled over by one family - who govern and help make and enforce laws. Because of this the head of the family is often referred to as ‘sheriff’. The family keeps laws strict in the town. There is one law in particular that the sheriff is always eager to punish those for breaking-

The Keyblade Wielder Ban

The people of Cindergate are aware of the keyblade, heartless, the worlds, etc - however they consider Keyblade wielders evil, no matter who they are or what their motivations may be. They believe that the wielders are dragging darkness into the world and are the reason so many heartless live in the desert that surrounds the city. The city has to constantly beat the heartless back, and are the reason why a good portion of the city has been abandoned or is always needing to be rebuilt.

It has been the tradition of the world for a while that if a wielder is found, they are to be branded as a traitor to the city - both metaphorically and literally. After a trial to determine if someone is a wielder or not - they are branded with a mark in the shape of a keyhole. Then they are dragged through the city and out to the gates that surround it. The wielders are then exiled, pushed out to the near lifeless desert. The people of the city will often attack them with weapons or throw objects at them to make sure they don’t try to run back into the city. They consider the wielders ‘sacrifices’ to the heartless to keep them at bay.

At times the heartless in the desert will get the better of the wielders with no training. Those who manage to survive their first day and night have the chance to come across a safehaven made by wielders in the reaches of the desert and on the edges of a canyon.

Landscape.

The city is the mix of a steampunk and wild west setting. There are some technology around the city but it’s big, clunky, and steam or coal powered. The part of the city that has been abandoned has a chance of heartless sneaking in, and so there are people here who patrol at night on occasion but besides that at times kids sneak into the area to play - but it’s strictly forbidden to do so and they will be punished if they do.

The desert surrounding the city is vast and nearly lifeless. Aside from the heartless, there are few plants and animals that live there.

Past the nearly lifeless desert is an area of plateaus and canyons. Within this area those who have been exiled from the city attempt to make a living. They find items that the people of cindergate ‘sacrifice’ to the heartless, (pieces of machinery, cloth, food, etc) and try to repurpose it for their own needs. There’s a bit more life in this area, but not much in terms of subsistence.

The Survivors

The wielders and those who were exiled with them (family members who hid them, other accomplices, and even people who were falsely convicted of being a wielder) have been managing to survive so far, though it’s a constant struggle. They’ve made houses out of spare pieces of wood, tarp, scrap metal, and hide themselves in as much shade as they possibly can.

Some practice with their keyblades in order to get a handle on their abilities and fight off heartless that come near the safe haven. Others completely shun the fact that they can use a keyblade and refuse to wield it. Those who are not wielders try to contribute by making food or volunteering for other odd jobs. There are also wielders dedicated to finding a way off world.

AND NOW THAT THAT’S OUT OF THE WAY -

Sid’s about:

Born to the ruling family of Cindergate, Sid had everything handed to him on a silver platter. And he hated it. He couldn’t wrap his head around the strict rules of the town or the terrible court system. Any time he would try to speak up on this though was met with punishment from his parents. So he decided to bide his time, becoming their perfect ‘puppet’ so that he could become the leader one day and change things for the better.

While still considered a bit of a rebel, his parents at least ‘admired his change of heart’ and let him walk around Cindergate freely. While growing up he made two friends - a girl name Mari and a boy named Helio. The three of them were practically inseparable, they were some of the only ones that didn’t care who Sid was related to. He could be himself around them, and so he vowed to keep them safe most out of everyone in the town.

Mari revealed to the boys one day that she was a keyblade wielder - which was a terrible discovery. Keyblade Wielders were banned from Cindergate and it she was found to be a wielder she would be arrested, branded, and exiled to the harsh desert that surrounded the town. The desert that was filled with heartless. At the same time Helio revealed himself to be a wielder as well - having been one of the longest out of all of them, since he was a child. He knew better than anyone what would happen to wielders who got caught as his mother had been cast out when he was a child. Sid promised that he wouldn’t let them get caught and that he would lift the ban, they just needed to keep their keyblades hidden until he became the leader of the town.

This was easier said than done, especially since Sid would come to be a wielder as well. An old friend of his family invited Sid to his deathbed. This old man revealed how close Sid’s father and him used to be, and how they had a dream to make Cindergate a thriving place. But Sid’s father had done nothing more than oppress the people and make the ban more strict than it needed to be. So the old man had a solution - to pass on the power of the keyblade to Sid. He had kept it hidden all of his life, hoping that one day Sid’s father would change his mind on the ban - but he never did. In his last moments he forced Sid to take the power of the keyblade from him, saying it was Sid’s responsibility now, before passing.

Sid was terrified and furious with the power he had been given. Yes, he had been wanting to make CinderGate a better place for wielders and non wielders alike but - he didn’t want it to be like this. Still, he wasn’t about to let the opportunity slip through his fingers. He told his friends of his new found gift and worked to become even more like the 'perfect’ leader his parents wanted him to be, just so he could take over quicker and get the stupid ban taken down.

Not long after this, Helio and Mari were caught for being keyblade wielders. Sid stood up to his parents to try and get them to see reason. When they still wouldn’t listen he revealed himself as a wielder in front of the whole town - saying if they were going to throw out his friends they would have to throw out him as well.

And they did, but not before branding him as a traitor - literally. They burned the keyhole shaped brand onto the side of his face before exiling him,Helio, and Mari out of the town. The three ran until they couldn’t anymore, fought off heartless, then collapsed with laughter - surprised but grateful they were still alive.

A while longer of traveling lead them to a survivor camp. Other people like them who had been exiled from Cindergate. It wasn’t much, but it became home for the three wielders. Sid took it upon himself to improve the day to day lives of the survivors by building various machines and other contraptions to make life easier for them. But still, it wasn’t enough. Thanks to his parents hoard of keyblade wielder knowledge (because how else were they supposed to fight off such a 'threat’ without an entire library full of knowledge?), he knew of other worlds and he knew that the keyblade could get them there. He just wasn’t sure how to unlock the power. None of the survivors were masters by any means, some of them didn’t even have a keyblade - and were friends or family of wielders exiled or falsely accused and wanted nothing to do with the keyblade.

Sid, taking another burden onto his shoulders, did the only thing he could think he could accomplish - he made himself and his two friends keyblade armor. He hoped that with the armor they could brave the passages in between worlds and find a way to get all the survivors to a new home.

[natexarnoult]

hey all!! my name is mads and i’m 23, use she/her pronouns, and live in mst! i’m so excited for y’all to meet nathan - he’s a char i’ve had in mind for a while and i’m stoked to finally bring him to life! i’ve included some main points about him under the cut, along with his bio and a couple extras for him - please message me if you’d like to plot :D 

Nathan comes from a single-mother household... at least, until he was in high school.

Nate knows who his father is and is trying to build a relationship w/ the man but is still hurt from his mother hiding his father’s identity & not hiding the truth.

He is very much a ‘trust-fund’ kid but is working hard to distant himself from his parents’ wealth and build a name that isn’t connected to his parents.

Nathan truly is a sweetheart but has a hard time expressing this to those he cares about - he grew up in a home that wasn’t welcoming to affection and is still trying to break this habit.

He’s been in Heartsdale for several years and I’m so open to creating some pre-existing connections with him! Friends, ex friends, exes, enemies - anything! Please just message me so we can chat :)

He graduated from UCLA with an art history degree but is more interested in actually making art than learning about it - he travels a lot as he likes to make his show room diverse and brings in pieces from all around the country.

Nathan lives above his gallery but spends most of his time outside of both his gallery and his apartment - it’s either a midlife crisis and he regrets his choices or he’s just trying to meet new friends, who knows?

His pinterest is here and is constantly being update; please follow me if you feel so inclined!

Annnnnd: bio here as well:

Nate’s parents met while his father was on a school trip. A senior studying art history at Harvard, he’d taken the trip as an excuse to ‘see the world’ - if that world meant England, sure. His mother was the manager at a museum they visited on the trip & his father found himself returning to her canvas filled institute daily. They spent hours talking, sharing their love of paintings and critiquing some of the pieces her museum had chosen to display. Neither of them wanted to admit that their time together would be coming to a close - his trip was only for 3 weeks over the winter holidays - but on his last day in the country, Nathan’s father left a note within her bedside drawer, his address and phone number scrawled sloppily across a spare receipt & he snuck out before the sun was up. Saying goodbye would be too hard.

He returned to the States. He graduated. He got a job. He went years without hearing from the woman he’d met. One day, when his father was leaving The Met - he’d become a director of programs - his eye landed on a woman who looked so familiar, her hand clutched by a child, no older than 10. That moment was Nate’s first memory of his dad.

He remembers sitting in his dad’s house, a wide and bright space that was 20 minutes from where they’d met on those huge steps. This man had given them a ride and was now setting tea in front of his mother, but Nate was playing with his dog. He remembers snippets of the conversation - his mom was apologizing a lot. Apparently she hadn’t wanted to see him. They were in the States to visit her sister, Nate’s aunt. He remembers that this man kept looking between his mom and him & he looked so confused. Finally, he remembers a silence falling over the room and the man asked a question. Nate couldn’t make it out but his mother’s response was clear, definite; “Yes. He’s yours.”

At the time, Nate had no idea what that meant. He hadn’t yet been given the talk and his mother didn’t explain her relationship to this man. She introduced him - Nathan couldn’t remember his name - and said that he was an old friend from college. But soon, he found himself with this man more often. His mother invited him to join them at his aunt’s birthday party. When they flew back home to England, his mother would often be stuck on the phone with her old friend from college. One day, a year or so after their New York trip, his mother was picking him up from school, nervously pressing her thumb nail into the steering wheel. She asked if he remembered her friend from college, the one they’d seen while in New York. Nate did. She asked if he’d like to take another trip to New York to see his aunt, to see her old friend from college & maybe stay longer this time - like maybe the whole summer holidays?

They stayed the whole summer and when fall came around and it was time for Nathan and his mother to return home, he was sad - he was going to miss his aunt, he was going to miss the excitement of living Stateside. The rest of his year was almost a blur - his school year went by relatively painlessly, though he had begun to feel the hurt of being one of the only brown kids in school - and eventually spring had returned. His mom, again, sat him down and began asking questions. Eventually, and now Nate was smart enough to see where this was going from the start, she asked Nate how he would feel about moving to the States, about living with his aunt for a while. The move itself was quick and before he knew it, Nate and his mother settled in the States. He spent his days at school and his afternoons in extracurriculars - his new school had an art program that Nate was excelling in. They spent nights hanging out with his aunt or his mom’s college friend and for the first time in his young life, Nate felt comfortable. His mom’s friend had begun taking him to the museums, explaining the complexities of the canvas hanging on the walls and asking for his opinion on the work.

When Nate was about halfway through his junior year of high school, his mother and her college friend were both in the car when he was picked up from school. It wasn’t entirely all that weird - he wasn’t dumb enough to think that they weren’t dating, but Nate did always wonder why his mother never broached the subject with him. It’s not like he was a little kid anymore, for fuck’s sake - if your kid is old enough to date, they’re old enough to know who you’re dating. Nate probably couldn’t tell you the rest of what happened that day. He remembered getting home and grabbing a snack, as he always does, and he remembered getting told to sit down by his mother, that she had something important to tell him.

Nate’s life split into the before and the now - before Stephen was his father & now. While typically a rather well-mannered teenager, Nate was furious. Sure, his mom didn’t have to disclose her love life if she didn’t want to, but to know that Stephen was his That they’d known since the start and never told him? He thought back to their first visit to New York, when they ran into Stephen on the steps of the Met - he remembered his mom was surprised, thrown off her guard, but never uncomfortable, never not wanting to be around this man.

He slammed the door on his way out of the house, hopping on his bike and riding off. That night was the first night he ever acted out - Nate made it to his friend’s place out in the suburbs and snuck in their basement window. The rest of his friends, along with a couple girls he knew from his English Lit class, were circled around a small table, upon which sat a small tray & a bong. Nate welcomed the small act of rebellion, in the face of such shocking news, & spent his night testing his limits.

His parents, as he now so affectionately referred to them as, soon regretted telling Nate at such a volatile age. He soon spent all his evenings with his friends, sneaking into the house after midnight (if he’s early) and going straight up to his room. They tried not to push it and Nate was torn between appreciating being left alone and pissed that no one cared how he felt. His mom had tried to address it a couple times but Nate always shut down, refusing to give her more than a two word response.

It went on like that for 2 years, silence, short answers, tension. At 18, Nathan found himself going off to college, moving across the country to attend UCLA. He lived off his parents money, figuring the least they could do after years of absconding from the truth. And he lived lavishly - drinks on him every time his friends went to the bars, new clothes, new shoes, everything he could want.

He graduated with minimal rule infractions, an MIP here, possession of controlled substance there. But his parents always paid for a lawyer, flew out for the week and handled everything for him. After college, Nathan bounced around for a year, spent a couple months in LA, three in New York, and another 6 or so in a van his parents had financed, driving around the US.

Six months on the road proved to be exhausting, however, and Nathan found himself back in one of his first stops at the start of his trip, Heartsdale. It wasn’t long before he signed a lease on an apartment downtown and spent his days as a barista at Legal Grounds. He didn’t necessarily need the job - his parents still financed his whole life - but it was nice to have something to meet people in town. After a while, however, being a barista became boring. Nate spent his time admiring the local work they had pinned for sale on their walls, admiring the fine line work and critiquing in the way he’d spent four year training to do. On a walk, he found himself fantasizing about owning his own gallery, having his space to curate an experience. Nate’s eyes caught on every single ‘For Lease’ sign downtown, pausing and forcing himself not to take a peek inside. It wasn’t reasonable, he told himself. Irrational, at best. He had no experience managing anything, no experience building something from nothing.

And yet… he couldn’t help. One brisk morning, the sun was bright against a For Lease sign, practically screaming the numbers at him. His fingers were typing the numbers into his phone before he even realized what he was doing. It was 4:23am, the downside of an opening shift at a coffee shop, and he wasn’t expecting anyone to pick up anyway. “Morning, uh,” he paused - was he really doing this? “My name is Nate Arnoult and I’m interested in the space you’ve got on 1st and..”

Moving in was quick, it only took 6 months before Nathan settled in the space above the retail spot. He spent his first night with his friends, drinking and dancing. His friends, just as ecstatic as he,  commended him - Nate had been hemming & hawing about opening a gallery space for months and to finally have a space, a place to start… Nathan was on cloud nine. And it went better than he thought it did. The art scene extended out of his small town and he was able to show pieces from all over Georgia. He even flew out to other states, offered small artists a space in his show room.  The rest, he supposed, is history. He’s been living a comfortable life and still maintains contact with his parents, despite their rocky past - not friendly, but not fatal either.

[myarmsaretoolong]

so apparently i had a brainwave for a scene from my ironhusbands/bio-dad/riri fic and felt the need to write it down so uh... here i guess

very much unfinished and just a first draft but idk i think it’s a decent go

When Tony was a young boy, he still believed in family. That fate could throw together a handful of people who loved each other to the point of idiocy, and who would always have each other’s backs.

He believed in family right up until he realised Howard cared more about some long dead Super-Soldier fantasy than his own wife and son. Howard would always talk about Steve, about what he achieved and how he gave his life to save the world. Usually in the same breath in which he berated Tony for accidentally short-circuiting the lab. Nothing Tony ever did was good enough for Howard. How could it be when Steve’s legacy hung over his head?

Then there was his mum. She tried, god knows she was a saint compared to Howard. She’d watch movies with Tony, tuck in him at night, cuddle him as he held back tears after Howard’s last screaming match. But so much of her energy was spent dealing with Howard that she had little to give to Tony. It wasn’t her fault, he didn’t blame her for it, but that didn’t make up for much.

No, it was Auntie Peggy and Jarvis who really raised Tony. He’d spend his holidays from boarding school at Jarvis and Ana’s when he could get away with it. Auntie Peggy would visit when between SHIELD missions as often as she could.

But they weren’t family, they were just people. A small part of him realised that he wouldn’t let them be his family, but that was something he’d unpack later. Save it for when he inevitably got himself a therapist. Or, more likely, when Pepper and Rhodey dragged him kicking and screaming to a therapist.

Pepper and Rhodey, they were some more people. And the Parker’s, too. Just a handful more people. His people, but just people.

Fact: the closest he’d ever felt to having a family was when he’d brought Rhodey to his house for Thanksgiving. Howard was away on business, and Rhodey’s parents were on a cruise - they were going to celebrate together when they got back. So the three of them cooked together, laughing and singing along to the radio, then ate as much as they could without throwing up.

Of course, Howard showed up early the next morning. It was meant to be a surprise, but he’s seen Rhodey sleeping on Tony’s floor and flipped out. Within an hour, the pair were on a plane heading back to MIT. That was the last time Tony let Rhodey near his parents.

Another fact: this moment is probably the second closest he’s felt to having a family.

Ben and Richard’s deep laughter mixed into one sound. Rhodey tried his best to hide a smirk behind his hand, and Mary didn’t try at all to hide her eye roll.

Tony leaned forward, elbows on his knees. He didn’t like being on the outside of the joke. “Am I a chef?”

“Absolutely not,” May grinned.

Ben and Richard howled louder, leaning on each other and wiping tears from their eyes.

Tony drummed his fingers on the post-it note stuck to his forehead. “Not an actor, not a sportsman, not a chef…Are you sure I’m even famous?”

“Definitely famous.”

“Can’t be if I haven’t heard of them,” Tony muttered. He plastered a scowl across his face and folded his arms.

Ben and Richard reached the point where their laughter turned into silent gasps for air, faces turning bright red. Maybe they’d had one too many to drink, but everyone else was just as tickled by the game. Happy even cracked an all too rare smile, though quickly wiped it away.

“I think I know this person far too well,” Mary grinned, one hand resting on her belly.

That’s what brought this group of people together, one night back in February that led to an unexpected pregnancy. At first, Tony has been terrified by the prospect of being a dad, but now… well he still was terrified, but also excited. A few weeks later, Mary met Richard, then Tony met Richard, then Tony met Richard’s brother and his wife May, then finally the Parker’s met all of Tony’s friends. And the rest, as they say, was history.

Pepper quirked an eyebrow, trying hard to keep a straight face. “I think we all know this person too well.”

Tony slumped back with a sigh. “I quit, it’s a stupid game anyway.”

“We all know you just hate losing, Tones,” Rhodey smirked. He gestured for everyone to quiet down, waiting patiently until Ben and Richard got themselves under control. “Guess some people and we’ll tell you if you’re hot or cold.”

“Okay,” Tony rubbed his hands together. “Um… Gandhi?”

In a split second everyone in the room, bar Tony, cackled with uncontrollable laughter. Rhodey clutched at his stomach and doubled over, Pepper hid her face in Mary’s shoulder, Happy and May giggled away in their own corner.

“Cold, cold,” Rhodey managed eventually. “Like Arctic cold.” His comment only sent another wave of laughter around the room.

“That’s it.” Tony ripped the post-it from his head and turned it over, reading the two words that adorned it. TONY STARK. “Oh for the love of- Really?”

Rhodey threw his head back. Come to think of it, that handwriting was definitely his.

“That’s right, Platypus, laugh it up. I can take it.” He screwed the paper into a little ball and threw it across the room, then sagged back into the sofa, defeated. Soon, though, the sound of his own voice joined in with the laughter. “I suppose it is a little funny, in a sadistic kind of way.”

The laughter stopped as abruptly as it started when Mary let out a little gasp of pain. All eyes in the room went to her.

“Just a kick,” she waved away their worry. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

Richard quickly sobered up. “I think we’ve got a footballer on our hands,” he said with a goofy grin. Tony would have said it was sappy if he didn’t have a matching one of his own.

Though his baby was biologically Tony’s, Richard was just as much it’s father. The three of them had sat down and discussed how their co-parenting arrangement would work. Ironing out the details as the months wore on. Neither wanted the other to be cut off of the baby’s life, and they all got along plenty well enough for the unconventional parenting setup to be a problem.

Tony was glad for Richard’s input. He didn’t know how to be a father, had hardly had one himself. He had a whole list of what not to do, but the rest was a mystery to him. Which is exactly where Richard stepped in, helped fill the blanks and make difficult decisions - like what colour was best to paint the nursery and which buggy is the safest.

um yeah, that’s what ive got. this is partly just proof im still working on this, and partly me trying to get over my recent writers block on the aladdin au

let me know what you think?

[lyn-rambles]

Did you know? || Yaku Morisuke x Reader ||

Hello again my fellows

Ok so this one shot is part of the Haikyuu Headquarters server collab  we all very happy to show our works, so please check out other works and give all the writers and artists a look uwu. If you want to see more of this type of content please use this.

I hope this time it gets posted because tumblr has been eating this thing ;-;

Pairing: Yaku x reader

Prompt: You woke me up at 3am for this?

Altern Universe: N/A

                                                                 PoV: Second person 

Warnings: None

Word count: 2.5 K

Yaku had a rough day, practice with the Japan National Team had exhausted him, he could barely walk to his shower to get off all the sweat from his body. He had been staying at the Japan's volleyball Association’s Dorms while he got arrangements done to stay in a more comfortable place. The cool water felt great against his sore body, they practically cleaned the gym floor that day doing drills and receives most of it. He was amazed to see that Hinata had gotten better at them and also was glad to see some old friends and known faces, he was also happy to see Kuroo again but he wasn’t going to tell him that out loud… He had a reputation to keep.

He closed the water and stepped out fresh, and feeling better, maybe not less tired but a bit more comfortable with his body. Yaku slipped on his pajamas and looked at his phone. The little LED had twinkled the whole afternoon, the color red immediately made him think that he must be out of battery and as he unlocked it he found your message. A smile grew in his lips. After his graduation you both had tried to keep contact. At the time you were still a second year but you got to be acquainted quickly. You had lived near each other, yet, you didn’t attend the same middle school it wasn’t like you an Yaku had talked too much, until you became a first year at Nekoma.

“I don’t know if you’ll see this before training but I wanted to show you this” and then showed a photo of the new samples you had prepared for your bio class. You worked as a teacher on a Junior High School, and had talked him about your plans on using plant samples to teach about the common tissues on them. He smiled at how proudly you had shown him the images from the microscope. He replied to you congratulating on the quality of them. He remembered how fascinating you found the world around and how happy you were on telling others about it. You had always rambled facts about animals, space, plants, the solar systems, name it you probably had a fun fact about it. It was that hunger for knowledge and the love of spreading it was what drawn him to you on first place. You were part of the science club. Professor Murakama, the bio teacher was in charge of your club, and Morisuke hadn’t talked with him outside from classes but Kuroo had insisted on him to help him getting some works they had delivered and he wanted a revision even though he almost got a perfect mark.

“Hello there!” he greeted them. He had lifted his safety glasses. And the small circle of students that surrounded him turned to them. Morisuke didn’t know most of the people there, since most of them were first years, but he waved at you. You returned it. Of course you knew Yaku, he had lived next to your house since forever but you had never actually been close. Kuroo got to the professor and he just stood awkwardly on the door frame as everyone returned to the working tables.

The professor muttered something to himself. As he checked on Kuroo’s worksheet. “Yaku, why don’t you join our experimentation while I go to the teacher’s lounge with Kuroo?” he asked him. “You can use my lab coat and safety glasses while you are at it.”

Morisuke put on the equipment as he reminded everyone to be mindful of the lab rules pasted on a cardboard on the wall behind Yaku. The students divided on partners and you sat on a work table alone.

“What is it (Y/LN)? Why aren’t you working with anybody?” Yaku asked as he sat down next to you.

“We are an odd number of students, so today is my turn to work alone.” He turned to see one of her classmates mouthing to her that he was sorry. “You are free if you only want to watch, since you don’t have rubber gloves.”

That day seemed so long ago, he had watched as she prepared the acidic solution in a beaker and added drops of phenolphthalein before adding a strong base and watched in awe how the liquid started to get a hot pink color.

“Wha- Whe- How?!” he had asked you.

Since then, it was history. He had sometimes went at lunch time to see how were you doing, being a first year was tough. And you sometimes met him at the cafeteria before getting back to your friends. Then he got your number and that’s when the rambling about random science facts became constant. He always had at least one image and a new fact, such as “Hey! Did you knew that elephants are the only species with 4 knees?” He always had a smile at that and he didn’t notice when he started to look at them with fondness until his teammates pointed it out. And then it happened, one day he just didn’t get the random fact of the day as you two had started to call it, by your second year, even he had started to send you those kind of things or whenever he found out about some new exhibit. His friend urged him to already ask you out as he clearly had signs of endorphin rush whenever they mentioned her or Talk saw her. Up to this day he never knew why he didn’t do it, even more when he got so concerned that you didn’t even saw his text, since you always answered quite fast. He walked outside of the VB team staff room and walked to the entrance alone. And he rose his gaze and you were there under a tree, with your head between your arms. He rushed at your side, without knowing what to do, he put his hand on your shoulder.

You shot your head up only to see his face. He looked as your face was tainted with tears.

“Hey, (Y/N),” his voice wavered. “What happened?”

You only cleaned your eyes with the corner pf ypur jumper. And used a napkin to clean your runny nose. “Nothing… I am fine, Morisuke.” You managed a constrained smile, he stood up and offered his hand.

“Come on, let me walk you home.” You took his hand.

That day you were supposed to tell your feelings to your crush. You had been harboring feelings for him since you met him on your first year and today, you (with Yaku’s help) had worked enough courage to tell him. You had crafted a love letter to cite him on your classroom and tell him there after school. He had also helped you (he almost did it all) to bake some small cookies to gift him.

There you stood with your crush in front of you, you had told him. You had done it, this is the moment where he accepts and-

“I like you, as a friend, your intelligence is quiet intimidating and I can’t see you as more than a friend because of it.”

Morisuke had heard your story, as you started to sob again. You were sitting on the sidewalk in front of your house as he took out a napkin and scooted near to you as you kept crying, his left arm grabbed you by the shoulder and he embraced you. Your violent breaths calmed and he let you go. His uniform now had moisted with what you called “nose tears” (“Morisuke! Did you knew that when you cry some of your tears go down on your nose and that’s why you have a runny nose every time you cry?”) but he could wash it later. Right now the only important thing was you.

“Morisuke, you are my friend, right?” He nodded. “is my-“

“No” he had answered right away.

“But you didn’t even let me finish” you pushed him with a playful manner.

“I knew what you where gonna ask and my answer is no.” He searched on the paper bag and handed you a chocolate filled bread. “I know your favorites are caramel ones, but right now you need something to raise your serotonin levels.” You took it and looked at him, you had sent him that fact when you had suggested to make the cookies. “Besides if he feels intimidated by something as petty as that, he doesn’t deserve a the time of day, he doesn’t deserve you.” He grumbled. You had stared at him wide eyed as his face started to get pink and bid you farewell as he slammed his house door. You smiled as you clenched the bread.

And then his graduation came. You had sneaked from cleaning duty thanks to your best friend (“Go get him, (Y/N)!”) He had also been encouraged by his friends this might be the last time he could tell you about his feelings. His family was throwing a small dinner and they had invited you since you had started to spend more and more time with Morisuke. His mom had made Stir-fried vegetables with other dishes. All his family gathered inside as you two talked on the same sidewalk, you both had been sharing some good old laughs.

You still held your stomach with your arms at Yakkun as he rubbed his leg after slapping it while he laughed. He had the sting of tears of laughing and of pain on leg, but he kept going. Until both of you had calmed and the small faint dread of bursting out laughing again came back.

“Ok, now in all seriousness, (Y/N)” he tried to regain his composure and you snorted at him as he bit his lip to suppress another laugh. “I have something to tell you- please breathe… slowly” His gaze was heavy with feigned disdain as he turned around to not laugh at your violent rapid breathing caused by another burst of laughs. You inhaled deeply trying to calm yourself.

“So?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “Have I told you the reason why I never accepted the two confessions I ever received?”

You gasped. You had been pestering him, one of your best friends into telling you but nothing had worked. “No! But please do tell me! I can’t believe it is finally happening!” you grinned at his question.

He breathed in slowly, as he started the word vomit, he saw your grin slowly disappear. As your eyes slowly went down. His heart his head started spinning. His face was becoming red, he wanted to turn back and get inside his home like that afternoon all those months ago. His whole being felt as if he had his guts stolen.

“And I didn’t worked up the courage up until now to tell you.” He sighed, for the first time, defeated. “I like you more than a friend, I-”

His eyes went wide when you hugged him by the neck and kept pressing pecks to his cheek. Then that hollowness became a party of elephants dancing on his gut. He finally turned to you, on your face shined the biggest smile you could manage.

“Yakkun, I was supposed to confess to you today, you stole my idea.” If he could have turned an even deeper shade of red he would have, he worked his hands up to your face and kissed your temple and smiled through his embarrassment.

Months passed by fast, as he had made the arrangements to move to Russia and play on the Super League. Lev had been helping him to make the contacts. You were currently on your third year, and whenever you could go home early you helped him studying Russian, you helped him craft flash cards and as you said the word in Japanese he answered always making a different grin. Much tp your laugh. You also helped him on his writing… you both sadly sucked at it. You tried to have non-study-dates-because-you-also-need-to-stop-worrying-about-me-and-school. Yakkun also helped whenever you found problem in a class… which wasn’t really often, but he was glad whenever you asked him for advice. Days after you got your college acceptance letter from college, he left Japan.

Yakkun had fallen asleep remembering the times you had stayed awake studying as he made you company over a video call or he had stayed awake after a particularly rough training just to have a “meal” with you.

His phone buzzed, once, twice, and the third time he picked it up. A pool of drool had formed under his face. He squinted his eyes at bright screen.

“(Y/N)?” he asked with a groan.

“Salutations, Mori!” over the speaker he heard the car engine.

“What is it?” He yawned as he stretched his arms and some of his joints cracked.

“I-” you hesitated before answering. “I found something really cool, I was wondering if you could join me.”

He rubbed his eyes, before turning to see his phone screen.

3:00 AM

He sighed with defeat. “Sure, just let me put a shirt on.”

You drived off, he took the copilot seat and dozed off yet again. You felt guilty of waking him in the middle of the night, but you had been waiting for this the whole week. Earlier you had called Kuroo just make sure the team had a free day before resuming their training. You side eyed him as how he curled on the seat breathing softly. The light of the city were getting behind as you approached your destination. The small lights of the highway and your car illuminated the way.

“Mori, we are here.” You gently shaked him. You were parked on a resting spot. In front it had a small hill covered with grass. The moon cleared the way. Mori had just woken up again and was getting out as you unloaded the trunk. You got some small snacks in a bag and a blanket.

“You woke me up at 3 AM… For this?” he was ired. And his expression showed clear dissatisfaction. “Listen, (Y/N) I know it is- Are you even listening?”

You had turned your face up and a teeth smile crept on your face. You lowered your face and moved your hand up so he could see. A meteor shower painted the sky as he looked up in awe and the it hit him, you had been mentioning this the whole week.

“You forgot, didn’t you?” He looked at you his face had softened as he approached you.

“I’m sorry (Y/N).” he murmured grabbing taking the bag. You turned your head side to side.

“You’ve been working to the bone lately.” You took a step nearer and cupped his face with your free hand. Your eyes locked with his soft gaze as he smiled fondly. His forehead rested on yours and then he pushed his lips to yours, your skin started to get goose bumps as you exhaled , you had been yearning for this.

“Did you know it was worth to get up at this time?”

[soccerbites]

listen to my heartbeat, JJ Maybank

masterlist in bio

a.n: i posted this a few months ago but it got deleted when i deactivated my old account, and it was a request, if you think it's familiar that's probably why :) english is not my first language so i apologize in advance for any mistake.

words count: 1,6k

warnings: swearing, lots of angst, death of a close family member.

(not my gif, if it's yours please tell me so i can give you credits)

You knew she shouldn't go to that trip, you told her not to but she didn't listen to you, as always.

After losing your dad a few years ago she was everything you had left.

You just couldn't believe it, your uncle told you on the phone call that your mum died in her sleep, sudden death, but it was senseless she was the most healthy person you've ever knew, she had a super strict diet and every morning ran around the neighborhood as a exercise form.

They say god takes from us the best people sooner, and you were starting to think they were right. At least she felt no pain.

I lifted my head to watch the wall clock, in any minute from now everyone would arrive at John B's as always, you were not going, not like that, not after what happened.

Your house was flooded with your hard crying as picture frames flew all over the room, making it a glass broken disaster, everything you saw ended slammed onto either a wall or the floor.

You kept on punching the kitchen table and all on it fell, the mug from where you drank your coffee earlier that day shattered on the floor, the sound of it making you more anxious; your anger filled every inch of your body at the same time you let your madness leave it by kicking and hitting things. You decided you had enough of that when you saw the blood from your knuckles slide over your hands.

You let you body fall in a corner, knees up to your chest and hands pulling your hair, screaming the word 'fuck' again and again.

"Y/N? are you here baby?" JJ's voice echoed through the now silent spaces of your home as you tried to stop sobbing so he'll think no one was there, "i know you're here, your bike is right beside me and you would never walk on your own right now" you hadn't notice how dark it was outside, you had spent the whole day crying in that little corner.

you didn't answer to him, hoping he would go away eventually.

"i'm coming in k love?" you hid your face with your blood covered hands trying to avoid his glare. It was not the first time he had seen you cry, but it was never this way, you were the one who comforted him and that led you to cry too 'cause you couldn't stand seeing your boyfriend so broken.

"he- what the fuck Y/N?" he ran towards you and tried to make you look at him "your hands are covered in blood love, what happened?" still no answer from you, "come on baby look at me" he begged you but you just moved your head side to side indicating a no.

"go away JJ i can handle this on my own" you mouthed between multiple sobs.

"i'm not sure about that baby" he started petting your head. "god, why do you always think you have to do everything on your own?" JJ whispered but you heard him.

"'cause i have to, i'm supposed to" you answered, still not looking at your golden boy.

"no you don't" he softly said while hugging you close to his chest, "why don't you tell me what happened so we can figure this out together?" you kept denying with your head.

It felt as if the room was becoming smaller with every second and breath you took.

"baby i need you to look at me and explain what's happening" your lovely boyfriend tried to convince you to talk to him.

"no, i can't" tears soaking JJ's t-shirt.

"why Y/N? now you're worrying me even more than when you didn't go to John B's" he kissed your head.

"'cause if i do it means it's real, if i say it out loud it becomes real" you grabbed your arms around the blonde boy's back harder.

"take deep breaths come on" he broke your hug and hold you by your shoulders as he searched for your eyes, you did as he told you and started paying attention on your breathing, "you're doing amazing, go on" JJ cheered on you, "you've always been strong for me, let me return the favor".

"shes is dead" you said finally looking to his beautiful blue eyes, "my mom is dead" tears fell down your cheeks again and JJ's eyes filled with them two.

He was shocked with what you were saying, he hugged you again, pressing your head over his chest, right were his heart was, JJ didn't want to say anything, he couldn't say nothing due to the fear of making everything even worse. Your boyfriend couldn't get it either, your mum was the kindest woman after you and also really young.

"my uncle said it was sudden, while she was sleeping" he rubbed your back, "no pain", the sobs, not only from you but also JJ now, were louder with every word you said "i told her JJ, i fucking told her not to go" you screamed, "i knew it, i had a bad feeling about it but she didn't listen to me, she never did" you pulled out of JJ's arms .

"it's my fault, it has to be" you punched the floor again and again, the golden boy didn't know what to do, and he hated himself for that; you were always there for him and now that you're the one who's drowning he doesn't know how to take you back to the surface, "WHY HER?! WHY HER AND NOT ME YOU ASSHOLE!" you screamed at the ceiling as if it was the sky and god could actually hear you.

"no, no baby don't say that" JJ grabbed you face with both his hands making you focus on his features, you threw yourself back to his arms and he gentle received you again, "i love you Y/N, don't say that ever again".

"i could have stopped her baby" you cried on his chest.

"sshh, just listen to my heartbeat, ok?" for the second time since he had arrived you did what he told you to and focused on his heartbeat and remembered all those times when you were the one holding him the way he was doing now, all the times he had listened to you heart and how that was the only thing that calmed him down. And you were now finding out that, the only thing that could pacify you was JJ's heartbeat as well.

"you better now?" he asked while looking down at you, your eyes were closed, he rubbed his thumb on your on your rosy and swollen face from all the crying you did, he smiled when you nodded, "that's my girl" he placed a lock of your hair behind your left ear and kissed your head multiple times.

"come on, take a deep breath, it's gonna be alright, we will get through this together as we always do" you nodded again, "it's not going to be easy but i'll be with you in every step of the way, yeah?"

"yeah" you simply and fast answered.

"i'm gonna help you shower, we will have some food and go to sleep" JJ looked up to the ceiling, his chin on your head, and held you tighter, "tomorrow morning we are going to clean up everything, and go to my house so i can pick up some clothes and stuff" he looked back at you, "i'm staying here as long as you want me to".

"that sounds nice" you said and glanced at your amazingly beautiful, caring and favorite person.

"it does right!?" JJ smiled at you, excited at how well you had relaxed that were finally able to talk without sobbing for the first time since he had arrived.

You both followed JJ's plan.

He took you to the bathroom firefighter style, not letting go any second, then helped you get undressed.

He was making sure the water was extra hot because he knew you liked it that way and you just stared at him the whole time. JJ washed your hair, being extremely careful trying not to hurt you, after that he cleaned your body.

You got dressed with some sweatpants, a white t-shirt and JJ's hoodie,

He made you sit on your bed and started doing your night skin care on your face, following every step you told him was next. When he was done he kissed the tip of your nose and gave you a peck on your lips just to after heat some noodles you both ate while laying down in bed and watching a very interesting show from Animal Planet, a channel JJ and you loved a lot.

Your boyfriend really helped you keeping your mind off of what had happened for like two hours, but, as you were laying with his hands on your waist, making you the little spoon; the bad feelings came back. He was the most important thing in your life right now and you were afraid of something bad happening to him, a tear fell from your eyes and down your cheeks at the thought of it.

"JJ?" you called him, almost whispering just in case he was already asleep.

"mhm" he mouthed and shifted his head as you turned to face him, his hands never leaving your body.

"can you promise me something?" he placed his free hand on your face; sensing the wet spot on your cheeks and just nodded, "please never leave me" he looked deeply into your eyes while rubbing his thumb on your waist and hugged you being scared of you crying again.

"it's ok, i'm here, i'll always be here"

Finally, after a very tiring day you managed to fall asleep on the arms of JJ, the great big love of your life.

[highkey-lowkey-as-hell]

Watt martian au? Tell me more

!!!!! okay SO

so it was very very important to me that the finale squad be the ares 3 crew because i just needed that to be a thing so

lewis - cairo

martinez - reese

vogel - annleigh

beck - kate

johanssen - eva

watney - mattie

so mattie is, unfortunately, the one who gets stranded on mars

and then for the other four

mitch henderson - riley

venkat kapoor - chess

annie montrose - farrah

mindy park - clark

SO

cairo is the commander of the ares 3 mission, and she's also the geologist

reese pilots the mdv (how they get from the hermes down to mars), the mav (how they get from mars back to the hermes), and i think the hermes (which is the ship that takes them to and from mars, it's really big and expensive so there's only one that's used for the entire ares program)

annleigh is the chemist and astrodynamicist

eva is the computer expert

kate is the flight surgeon and eva specialist (eva stands for extra-vehicular activity, or anything done outside of an earth atmosphere)

mattie is the botanist and engineer

riley is the head of astronaut corps

chess is the manager of the entire ares program

farrah is in charge of nasa's pr

clark works in satellite imaging and he's the one who figures out that mattie is alive

(also they refer to the astronauts with their last names because nasa so technically i should be saying adekoya, roberts, o'daniel, sanchez, dalton, and wheeler, but no♥️)

the mission i think was around 200 days to mars, and then reese piloted the mdv down to the surface, where all their stuff for the mission was there in advance. in the first few days, they set up the hab (base of operations, where they live, etc), the solar panels, and checked out the mav - the ship that was sent in advance and would bring them back to hermes

on sol (mars days are called sols and they're about forty minutes longer than earth days) 6, the mission was hit with a huge sandstorm - the mission was designed to withstand up to 150 km per hour winds, and the storm was 175 km per hour, so yeah, that was very very BAD. the problem wasn't whether the hab would pop - the problem was that the mav couldn't stand up to that much wind for that long. so houston gave the order to abort and they all suited up and went out in the storm to try and get to the mav. halfway there, mattie was struck by debris (the satellite dish) and the antenna went right through her bio-monitor, showing all her vitals as 0. cairo refused to stop looking, but the mav began to tip and she had to get back, and they left for the hermes, believing mattie to be dead.

SURPRISE!! mattie is not, in fact, dead!

the antenna also ripped a hole in her, but the angle at which she landed and also the blood created a weak seal, so her suit was okay. she stayed passed out while the co2 filters were expended, the suit backfilled with nitrogen, and then eventually the oxygen alarm went off because the suit had to backfill with pure oxygen, and the concentration was about 85% which is very bad. she got up, got back to the hab, fixed her wound, and began to figure out what the fuck to do.

the primary comm system was in the satellite dish, which, as mentioned, definitely wasn't functional. the secondary and tertiary comm systems were in the mav, which the rest of the crew took up to the hermes, so clearly those were gone too, so mattie has no way to get in contact with earth or hermes. and in the case of an abort, hermes would only stay in orbit for 24 hours, so by the time mattie could fix the satellite, they'd be long gone.

the surface mission was only for 31 sols, but for redundancy, nasa sent 56 sols worth of food. since they got 6 sols into their mission, mattie has 50 sols of food for 6 people. since she's only one person, she has 300 sols of food, which if she rationed it, would stretch to 400 sols. except she has four years before ares 4 is supposed to launch, and 400 sols of food won't reach there. but!

the surface mission was during thanksgiving, so nasa's psychologists were like "hey, maybe they should cook a meal together for bonding" and so mattie has twelve non freeze dried potatoes. and! she's a BOTANIST! and because of that, she has some stuff for plant experiments - some earth soil! the only problem with mars soil is that it doesn't have the bacteria that is needed for plants, but mattie can mix her soil with mars soil in the hab and have enough to farm a bunch of potatoes. potatoes plus vitamins can help stretch her food supply!

so she grows potatoes. except water is a problem. so she figures she can make water using liquid oxygen, and then gets hydrogen from leftover hydrazine fuel, by running the hydrazine over an iridium catalyst and separating the nitrogen and hydrogen, and then burning the hydrogen and oxygen to make water. except she miscalculated and accidentally filled the hab with hydrogen and made a bomb. so she burned the hydrogen off little by little, forgot to calculate the oxygen she was breathing, blew herself up, and then tried again and eventually fixed her hydrogen problem. so after a lot of effort, she had a way to make water for the potatoes.

the whole time, she's been bored as hell because she left her own entertainment usb stick on the hermes, to focus on the mission, but now she's super bored, so she rifles through the other crewmembers' stuff and finds medical journals in kate's stuff (nerd), nothing in reese's stuff, annleigh's stuff is in german, agatha christie novels in eva's stuff, and disco music and 70s tv in cairo's stuff. so she's losing her mind listening to SO MUCH DISCO.

back on earth, chess is begging the director of nasa, teddy sanders, for some satellite time to take pictures of the ares 3 site, because she figures that since they aborted so early, there's still almost an entire mission up there and she might be able to get funding for an ares 6 mission, she just needs pictures of what the site looks like and the damage from the storm. teddy keeps denying the request because nasa is a public domain organization and has to release all the photos they take within 24 hours, and teddy doesn't want astronaut wheeler's body on the front page of every newspaper in america. eventually, chess convinces him to give her the satellite time, and clark is assigned to take her pictures. when he does, he notices that the solar panels are clean, one of the rovers has been moved, the mdv has been disassembled (mattie needed the hydrazine), and he can't find mattie's body. so he calls chess and they realize shit, mattie is alive. farrah, being the pr manager, is tasked with telling the world that mattie wheeler is alive, which is a disaster, and they work on getting in contact with mattie. riley says "shit, we have to tell the crew" but teddy and chess veto it, because the crew still has ten months of space travel ahead of them, and they need to focus on their mission. riley is pissed, but there's nothing she can do.

in the meantime, mattie figures that in four years, she needs to be at the schiaparelli crater, where ares 4 will land, which is really far away from acidalia planetia, where ares 3 is. so she needs to drive like 3400 kilometers to schiaparelli. as a test, she modifies the rover and spends three weeks driving 1500 kilometers to the site of pathfinder, a 1996 probe that nasa lost contact with in 1997. she gets pathfinder, brings it back to the hab, gets it working, and nasa realizes what she's doing and sets up the old pathfinder computers. mattie hacks the rover, and BAM, she can talk to nasa!

since she has her potatoes, that stretches her food supply a bunch, which gives nasa time to hopefully build a probe to send her supplies to help her last until ares 4 arrives. now that there's a viable rescue plan, riley is cleared to tell the crew.

back on the hermes, eva just got the data dump and she's dispatching personal emails to everyone's laptops when she notices a video file for all of them, and cairo calls the whole crew to come watch. it's riley, saying that mattie is alive and they're going to try to rescue her. mattie stresses that it wasn't the crew's fault every time it comes up. annleigh, reese, kate, and eva are all thrilled that mattie is alive, but cairo is devastated that they left her behind.

mattie has been using airlock 1 every time she leaves the hab, just because that's the one she uses, but the constant use has put a lot of wear and tear on the seams and one day, it's too much and as she's in the airlock, the hab pops, blasting her about 100 meters away, still in the airlock. her faceplate gets cracked, and after 24 hours in the airlock, she manages to fix it, but it's super leaky and it'll only last 4 minutes. so she rolls the airlock back to the hab, goes back in, manages to have just enough time to grab reese's suit's helmet and patch kit, and then escapes to the rover. she gets back in contact with nasa, says she's okay, and fixes the hab, but being exposed to mars's atmosphere killed all her crops, shortening her food supply significantly. so the probe nasa is going to send needs to be a whole lot faster.

nasa builds iris in about 46 days, but they have to cancel inspections to save some time, and the launch fails, and they don't have another booster, so mattie is totally fucked.

nasa's psychologists have mattie write emails to each member of her crew, just in case she doesn't make it, which is becoming more and more likely. the emails (summarized):

to reese: if i die, you need to be the one to talk to my parents. they'll wanna hear about mars. it won't be easy, i know, but i'm asking you to do it, because you're my best friend.

to eva: you're a nerd. seriously, i had to do so much computer stuff to connect pathfinder to the rover and how the hell can you stand it oh my god, you're such a nerd.

to annleigh: chemistry is boring, i hate it. also you are a chemist with a base on mars, you're some sort of mad scientist supervillain.

to kate: okay so i don't have to follow mission rules anymore so: dude... you gotta tell eva how you feel or you'll regret it.

to cairo: it wasn't your fault, okay? you did the right thing, you saved everybody else. don't blame yourself. also why the FUCK do you like disco so goddamn much???????

so it turns out that china actually has a booster that isn't public knowledge, so if nasa could build another probe, china could supply the booster. they agree to it, in exchange that the ares 5 crew will have a chinese astronaut. an astrodynamicist named rich purnell realizes that it would be so much more likely to succeed if they sent the hermes back to mars, so he plots a course that could have china's booster, the taiyang shen, resupply the hermes, and then the hermes would go back to mars, do a flyby, and mattie would meet them in space using the ares 4 mav. the problem is there's only one booster, so they can either build iris 2, which has a high chance of killing one person, or do the rich purnell maneuver, which has a low chance of killing six people. teddy decides to go with iris 2, but riley is furious and disagrees and secretly sends the ares 3 crew the instructions for the rich purnell maneuver.

on the ship, annleigh has a personal email from her family that has a jpeg attachment she can't get open, so she goes and finds eva, who realizes it isn't a jpeg, it's a plain ascii file. annleigh recognizes it as a maneuver for the hermes and explains it to the whole crew. cairo says that if they were to do this, which is something that nasa expressly rejected, it would be mutiny, so it isn't her decision to make. they all have to unanimously agree. obviously, all of them immediately agree to go back and save mattie.

riley gets in trouble with teddy for sending the maneuver, but she has no regrets.

nasa tells mattie the plan for the flyby, and she's cool with it - after all, she already had a plan to drive to schiaparelli eventually.

nasa launches the taiyang shen, and it goes perfectly, resupplying the hermes as expected.

back on mars, mattie is modifying the rovers for the trip to schiaparelli. part of this involves drilling a hole in the roof of rover 1, so that she can fit the life support machines she needs in it during the trip. she accidentally leans the drill against a table, and accidentally sends 9000 milliamps through pathfinder's system, which is designed for 100 milliamps, and totally fries it so she can't talk to nasa anymore, which is bad. she decides to proceed with the plan as intended, and once she gets to the ares 4 mav, she'll be able to talk to nasa again.

back on the hermes, reese complains that the cooling system by her room isn't working, and it's basically trying to cook her every night. mattie's room next to hers has the exact same problem. so she's been sleeping in airlock 2, but that's very dangerous for very obvious reasons. so cairo says "okay, you can sleep in kate's room, and kate can sleep with eva." kate apparently took mattie's email to heart, and they've been trying to be subtle, but it's a pretty small ship and everyone knows they're together. cairo says she doesn't care, since this is already a pretty crazy mission, as long as it doesn't mess with their duties.

back on mars, mattie begins her 100 sol drive to schiaparelli. the problem: there's a dust storm, and her rover is powered by solar panels. it's not as violent as the one that forced them to abort the mission, it's just a huge cloud of dust she can get stuck in. but she manages to figure out how to get around the storm and continues on her merry way to the schiaparelli crater.

when she reaches schiaparelli and begins to descend into the crater, her rover hits a soft spot on the ramp and flips over. she's fine, and it doesn't take too long to fix, so eventually she continues on.

and now she has reached schiaparelli!!!! she gets back in contact with nasa through the mav, and nasa lets the hermes and mav talk directly - not a call, just emails back and forth, but they get to have a conversation and the hermes is so close to earth at this point that they're only a couple light-seconds away, so there's barely any delay.

problem: normally, the hermes would orbit mars for 31 sols and then the mav would bring the crew to low mars orbit and dock with the hermes, but the flyby won't let the hermes go into orbit, so mattie has to basically gut the mav to make it light enough to get up into space entirely. part of that involves removing the entire front of the ship, and the control panels, so mattie won't control the ship - reese will pilot it remotely. everything is good to go, and they're ready for launch.

the day of the rescue comes, and because mars and earth are 12 light-minutes apart, if the ares crew asked a question, it would take 24 minutes to get a response, so they're entirely on their own with no help from nasa. the plan is for reese to fly the ship, eva sysops the ascent, and kate literally has to go out in space, catch the mav, and bring mattie back while annleigh is their backup. reese launches the ship, and mattie had to cover the hole with hab canvas, which rips in the ascent and throws mattie off course. they're 68 kilometers apart, which is way too far. they use the attitude adjusters to get closer to the mav, but then they're going 42 meters per second, which is way too fast. to slow down,,,,, cairo has annleigh build a bomb and they blow a hole in the vehicular airlock, which helps them slow down enough that kate can catch mattie.

kate goes out, gets mattie out of the ship, and annleigh reels them in. cairo reports six crew safely aboard, and there's worldwide celebration.

kate brings mattie back to the medbay and bandages her ribs, and it ends with mattie sitting in the medbay, sore, exhausted, starving, vision blurry from acceleration sickness, and so goddamn happy that she's going to live. she reflects a bit on how many people came together to save her life, and how that's basic human nature, and she's just really glad to be on her way back to earth.