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angryschnauzer · 4 years

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Stuck - Steve Rogers edition

A/N: By popular request, and i thank everyone that messaged me and sent me asks if i would consider releasing a second edition of ‘Stuck’ but with a Marvel character, i give you ‘Stuck - Steve Rogers edition’. (You can read the Henry Cavill character ‘August Walker edition’ here.) In future i will consider dual-releases of more stories, where the narrative works for various fandoms. If there is any of my back catalogue you would like to see written as a different fandom, drop me an ask!

Summary: You are Steve Rogers maid, and when you are changing the sheets on his massive bed your hand gets stuck between the mattress and headboard. Upon finding you in that predicament Steve takes control of the situation, however it doesn’t mean you get unstuck any time soon. (Based on a pornhub video i saw at 2am a few nights ago)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Maid Reader (no race or size described) Fandom; Chris Evans, Marvel, Captain America

Warnings; NSFW, 18+, Dub-con, Fingering, groping, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, size kink, breeding kink, boob play, anal fingering, double penetration, spanking, spying/stalker behaviour, surveilence, voyerism, unauthorized recording of a sex act, not-great aftercare (he tries), slight dom/sub, the start of a ‘sugar daddy’ arrangement, Daddy Kink (this version DOES contain it).

I do not operate a tag list, however please follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications. That way you’ll get an alert every time i post anything. Masterlist can be found on AO3 link HERE

Stuck

Ringing the doorbell, you stood anxiously on the doormat outside the expensive apartment, listening for approaching steps but hearing none. So when the door suddenly opened you let out a tiny yelp of surprise, before taking a deep breath to steady your racing heart;

“Good afternoon Captain Rogers”

The giant of a man stood in front of you, recognition quickly passing over his face when he saw your uniform of black dress and simple black ballet flats;

“Oh yes, the maid. C’mon in”

You worked for a high security housekeeping company, strict controls and stringent background checks as you were contracted to the Avengers and the agents and staff that worked for Shield. You always worked on an ad-hoc basis, only visiting homes when clients or agents requested it. This was however the fourth time cleaning Captain Rogers apartment, always having to work around suitcases littering the halls and various weapons being cleaned and serviced on the kitchen table.

Holding your pail of cleaning supplies you waited as he shut the door, talking at you rather than to you;

“Okay so here’s what you need to do today; clean the bathroom and kitchen, vacuum the rugs throughout, change the bedding and leave in the laundry hamper”

You nodded;

“Sweeping throughout too sir?”

“No need, the Roomba does the smooth floors, it just can’t get onto the deep pile rugs” he hooked an earbud into one ear; “I’m going out for a run, I’ll be two hours”

Swallowing nervously you nodded, watching as he hooked the other earbud in and left without another word, leaving you staring at the white wood of the door after he’d closed it.

Captain Rogers both scared and excited you. A beast of a man, he was all muscle, and each time you had visited he had excused himself so not to be there whilst you were. The fact that he was always in a t-shirt two sizes too small on and running shorts that did nothing to hide any part of him had you stretching your concentration to its limits in order to get your job done and not drift off into a fantasy land that you saved for when you were curled up in your own bed.

Getting to work you started on the kitchen, stacking the dishwasher with the various dirty crockery that littered the room, cleaning the surfaces, sink, stove. Next up you hit the rugs, working quickly as you vacuumed, before heading to the bathroom.

Taking a deep breath you opened the door and relaxed. Cleaning bathrooms for single men were what you always dreaded, but at least as you started to cleanse every surface including the toilet, you realised that the Captain thankfully had good aim.

Half an hour later you wiped your brow on the back of your arm. Captain Rogers bathroom had in fact been a nightmare, the man shed more hair than a fucking Golden Retriever. Washing your hands and glancing at your watch, you saw that you had fifteen minutes left of the two hours, taking a deep breath before grabbing the clean linens from the closet.

Captain Rogers bedroom was white. There was no personalisation, no trinkets. Slipping your ballet flats off you climbed onto the bed, mentally taking in the sheer size of it; it must be a super king if not larger. Your mind immediately went south, imagining him fucking on the bed, sprawled out as you straddle his face - you had always wondered what that beard felt like against your skin - and you ride his tongue, or him pile driving you into the mattress, his hard body pressing against every inch of you as he fills you.

Moving up the bed you tugged on the sheet, cursing as it wouldn’t pull out from between the mattress and headboard. With a huff you shuffled forward, pushing your hands down between them, tugging on the expensive white cotton. Pushing your arm down a little further you could just about feel that it was caught on something, moving to pull back and then it happened… you were stuck.

“What the...?” you muttered, realisation hitting you that your watch had slipped into the gap and was now preventing you from pulling your arm out. You could feel your heart rate increasing as you struggled to set yourself free, pulling against the strain but it did little to help. You pushed and pulled and grunted, hiking your dress up so you could widen your stance on the bed, but nothing worked. You frantically looked around to see the time, yet there wasn’t a clock or display in sight, and you could hardly look at your watch. If you didn’t get out of there soon Captain Rogers…

“Well isn’t this a pretty sight…”

No. Please no. Oh god no. You screwed your eyes shut, the heat of embarrassment rising to your skin;

“I’m stuck” you whispered, letting out a yelp when you felt the bed dip behind you, feeling his hands gently resting on your hips;

“Unfortunate for you, maybe not so for me...”

Five minutes ago.

Steve sat in the small room, staring at the laptop screen in front of him. As ideas went, this was both his best and worst idea yet. Installing hidden security cameras in his apartment had been at first simply for security whilst he was away on missions, but he’d found a secondary use for it once Shield had recommended your employers as a maid service. He hadn’t been expecting someone as pretty as you, you had this look of innocence about you that made him just want to corrupt you and ruin you. He may be a bastard but he wasn’t a heathen, so instead of just turning on the charm offensive he had found an abandoned room in his apartment building and set up a small surveillance center. One with a chair, a laptop, a bottle of lube and a box of tissues.

Steve Rogers had just spent the last two hours edging himself as he watched you bend over in that knee length dress, adjusting camera angles to see up your skirt as you bent over. Steve Rogers was one step away from full on pervert. And he had no regrets at all.

That was until he saw you on his bed, and realised you were trapped. Temptation got the better of him, so stuffing his hard dick back into his running shorts, he quickly left the room and silently made his way back to his apartment.

He entered and could smell the pleasant scent of the cleaning fluids you’d used, the quiet grunts as you tried to free yourself from your predicament. Toeing off his sneakers he silently made his way through the hallways, suppressing a groan as he saw you on his bed; ass up face down, the fabric of your dress stretched over the tops of your thighs, the fabric moving as you moved to expose glimpses of your buttocks. He pressed a hand over the obscene bulge in his shorts before moving to the bed.

“Captain!” you squeaked out in surprise; “You’re back… umm I’m stuck, my watch… I can’t get my wrist back through the gap between the headboard and the mattress”

“Oh… what a shame. Let me help…”

You were expecting him to move around you, but instead he covered your body with his own and grasped your arms. Your mind was lost as you took in how his massive hands could completely circle your wrists, the weight of him above you almost suffocating, and when he started to tug you knew you were done for.

The gentle rocking of your bodies, rubbing against one another was all it took for a moan to leave your mouth involuntarily, the feeling of his hard dick rutting against the crease of your ass making you embarrassingly wet almost instantly. He grunted above you;

“Huh, well that didn’t work…”

Pushing himself up he knelt behind you, still pressing his hard-on against your ass as his hands gripped your hips and he tugged gently, however all he did was pull you back against his crotch;

“This fabric is slippery, hang on a second…”

Pressing your head to the bed you felt him flip your skirt up, hearing a sharp intake of breath behind you as he took in the bright red thong you were wearing beneath your dress. His warm hands smoothed over your buttocks before gripping onto your hips and half-heartedly tugging again.

It was no good, you were too turned on to even object. You’d lusted after your client for weeks, and now you found yourself in this predicament which it was obvious he had no intention of helping you with, but instead had other ideas that you had no desire to object to. You were rocking back against his dick, the quiet moans escaping your throat telling him you were more than into it, so when you felt his fingers curl around the elastic of your underwear and tug them down to your mid-thigh, all you could do was arch your back and present your pussy for his inspection.

Thick fingers parted your folds, teasing your nectar to your aching clit where a thumb rubbed hard circles against the sensitive bud. His other hand was lost from you for a moment and you could feel him moving, before you felt the thwack of his heavy dick against your ass.

With your hand trapped and your body stretched out you could barely look over your shoulder, but when you did you could see the impressive bulk of your clients body towering over you, the sight making your cunt clench with anticipation.

“Excited, are we?”

“Please Captain…”

“Please what?” You moaned and his quiet chuckle filled the room; “You gotta say it”

“Please fuck me”

“Eager little thing, aren’t we?”

“Please Daddy…”

“Well, as you asked so nicely…”

He took hold of his dick and dragged the bulbous tip through your folds, dousing himself with your juices before lining himself up with your entrance. When you felt him push just the tip inside you it felt like you were being split open, he must be as thick as your wrist, and as he continued to force his way into your body it felt like he was the length of your forearm.

“Such a good little slut, taking my dick…” his voice filled your senses as your body fought to relax and allow him deeper, your juices running down your legs where he would rock back and forth to lubricate his girth before pushing another punishing inch in to you.

Your velvet walls parted yet gripped him tight, and you could feel every ridge, bump and vein as he started to fuck your tight pussy. With every pull and push your head swam, your body moving back to meet his thrusts as his massive hands gripped onto your hips and he started to slam into you harder and harder. When his hand came down onto your ass the loud smack surprised you just as much as the pain, but you arched your back even more like a bitch in heat.

He reached beneath you, tugging at the neckline of your dress with both hands, before the seam of the collar broke and the soft jersey stretched enough for him to tug the fabric down. His fingers caught in the lace cups of your bra, and whilst still plunging deep into you from behind, he was able to let your titties swing free and he grabbed a handful;

“Such pretty tits. Next time you clean I want you in just your underwear so I can watch them swing. Might get you scrubbing the floors so I can see you bent over and ready for me”

You shuddered at his words, he already paid a premium for your services, and the electronic tip that he’d sent through had been more than generous, the last visit alone you had been surprised by the triple figures, but more than grateful that you were able to pay the bills.

His hands had found their way back to your ass, smoothing over the soft skin as he continued to fuck you, the wide ridge that ran along the underside of his length rubbing so beautifully against your g-spot, you were sure you were going to cum soon.

He pulled your cheeks apart and you felt him spit on your asshole, the warm liquid pooling for a moment before his thumb started to rub insistently over the brown rose. Burying your head in the soft sheets you allowed your body to relax as he breached your back door with his thumb, the wide digit stretching you as he pushed in as far as he could;

“This ass is incredible. I can’t wait to fuck it”

You let out a tiny yelp at the idea of trying to fit his massive cock in your ass;

“Captain!”

“Oh, don’t you worry, I’ll make sure you’re stretched out first. Might want to add a plug to the uniform list for next time, make sure you’re ready lubed and stretched for me. But don’t you worry your pretty little head, this time I’m just going to cum deep in this sweet pussy of yours. Are you on birth control? Are you ripe?”

You hadn’t even considered birth control. Your insurance had stopped covering you a couple of years back, so when you had gone on the occasional date that had ended up between the sheets, you’d simply resorted to condoms;

“No… no…”

“Oh yes. I’m going to cum deep inside you, let my seed rest within your womb. God, I’d love to see your belly round with my child, I bet your tits would be even more impressive. Hmmn yes, that’s fucking perfect…”

You hadn’t thought it possible, but all that he said was turning you on even more, and it wasn’t just you that liked the idea, you could feel him swell within you, his girth growing thicker as his arousal grew. The added stretch was driving you closer and closer to your own orgasm, the dual stimulations of your pussy and ass both being filled had you trembling with need.

“Are you going to cum for me?” his voice was hoarse and dry, an edge of desperation to it too; “I’m close, gonna shoot my load in you soon. You’d better cum before I do ‘cos once I’m done I’m pulling out and will leave you dripping with my seed and on edge…”

The threat of being left on the precipice was enough to push your body over the edge, cumming hard as your body held him so tight he thought he wouldn’t be able to pull out. The vice like grip had him throwing his head back as your body milked him, his own orgasm ripping through his body that he came with a roar and a string of expletives.

Steve wasn’t sure if he had ever cum that hard before, but the way your body gripped him so tight he was in no doubt that your pussy was the best he’d ever had - and he’d had a lot - and he knew without a doubt that he was not going to let anyone else ever come near it again.

As he slowed his thrusts and let you work through the aftershocks of your intense orgasm, he mentally checked off all the things he’d been checking up on; from the details of your financials, your family and education, your social media. He had seen all of them. He had your phone tapped and knew that he was going to be installing spy cameras in your apartment… that was until you agreed to be his.

Looking down at your ass he pulled his thumb out of your now loosened asshole, making sure to catch the way it winked as he recorded on his phone, having pulled that out of his pocket soon after he’d started and had recorded himself defiling your body. Giving your ass a smack he relished how the camera picked up the jiggle as the force rippled through you, before grasping a large handful of ass as he pulled out and watched his cum pool at your entrance, before pushing it back in with two thick fingers. Tugging your underwear up your legs from where they had settled around your knees, he made sure the flimsy red mesh covered your hole, quickly getting soaked with his seed as he pushed the fabric against the mess to fully coat it.

Finally he shut his phone off and reached towards the headboard, giving it a tug and feeling it lift, watching as you silently pulled your hand free before collapsing on the bed. He carefully unbuckled your wristwatch before rubbing at the sore skin, easing away the chafed skin. He set your hand down carefully and quickly left the room, returning a moment later with a glass of water and holding it to your lips as he helped you sit up.

Setting the empty glass on the side, he rubbed your back before attempting to fix your torn collar, finally giving up. He swiped a thumb across your cheek, wiping away the mascara tear stains;

“Next week you’ll need to be in your underwear and heels. Make sure the plug is well lubricated. I’ll have everything delivered to your address”

You went to object, to question how he would even know, but then realised… Shield… of course he knew. You pushed yourself to the edge of the bed, finding your shoes and slipping your feet in, standing on wobbly legs as he spoke again.

“Do as I ask and I’ll let you stay the night so I can fuck your other two holes as well”

Turning you nodded;

“Yes Captain”

“Oh, you can call me Daddy now, I did so like that little slip you made in the heat of the moment” he turned to leave the room before waving his finger at the pile of fresh linen still folded at the end of the bed; “Remember to finish up before you leave”

He left the room without another word. You went to object, but just as you did you felt the phone in your pocket vibrate. Quickly checking it your eyebrows practically shot off the top of your head, seeing the tip transfer come through for $2000. Biting your lip, your thumb hovered over the accept/decline buttons, the moral dilemma tearing your mind in two.

In the hallway Steve watched his phone. He could see that you’d received the notification of the tip. When he saw your action on the app he smiled and slid the phone back into his pocket, already planning your next visit.

PART 2 >>>

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x you #chris evans #captain america x reader

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abreathofthewild · 4 years

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I Need A Hero, Chapter 1/?

Summary: After Y/N finds out that her late grandfather has willed his rural Montana ranch to her, she decides it’s time for a little change of scenery. At least until it’s in a condition to sell. Along the way, Y/N finds a renewed appreciation for hard work, new friends, and possibly even love. She has the land. Can Thor help make it a home?

Word Count: 11559 (I have no idea either, trust me)

Warnings: non-main character death, mentions of alcohol, some thematic elements, eventual smut.

A/N: I have so many people I could tag on this post, so many. For now, I'll just say thank you to @spacelabrathor for allowing me to use this idea and to @itssimplydior for going above and beyond in helping me grammar check and just being a great hype person. Thank you thank you thank you! And thank you to everyone who has waited so long for this. I have an amazing circle of friends on here. I hope this first chapter was worth the wait!

Edit: The banner is by the amazing @frankiemorales who designed this moodboard because she loves the story so much ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

Links: Thor Odinson Masterlist and AO3 Version

Skyscrapers cut through the blue sky like ancient monoliths; they weren’t ancient at all but the way the sun glinted off the glass and steel of their structures made them look like modern interpretations of old gods. Car horns and shouts and ongoing conversations hummed through the air, the constant buzz of life an undercurrent that was all at once hard to ignore and easy to be lost in. There in the middle of it, beneath the heartbeat of the city, you sat in an office chair trying to clear your head around a different type of ringing in your ears.

Your grandfather had passed away. Your estranged grandfather. And yet here you were, listening to his attorney tell you that he had willed you his ranch. The ranch you had spent almost six summers at as a child. The ranch where you had learned to ride a horse. The ranch where you had learned how to skip rocks and climb trees. The ranch where you had decided that one day you’d have a big ranch of your own, “just like Grandpa”.

“Miss? Miss, are you still there?” A breath rattled from your lungs as you tried to form a coherent sentence. “I’m sorry, I can imagine this is difficult but were you able to hear me on the line? Hank has passed away and he’s left you his ranch. We’ll need you to come sign some paperwork. There are some stipulations that I’d rather discuss in person. Then you’re free to get the details settled to sell it if that’s what you want.” Another pause.

“Um, yes, I’m sorry. I heard you. Can you email the initial documents?” The barely-managed response felt odd on your tongue, stiff.

“Ah, yes, I’m sure we can manage that. I’ll have to apologize, things move a little slower around here so sometimes it slips my mind that electronic signatures are an option now. Like I said though, the final details will need to be worked out here, in Dove’s Reach.” After that, you tuned out; the man’s voice on the line seemed to drone on. Your brain honed in on “it’s not really in a state to sell” and “I’ll put you in touch with a licensed appraiser just to make sure”. Then the call ended and you realized somewhere in there you must have hung up the phone but you honestly couldn’t remember.

A ranch. A whole ranch. 500 acres of rolling hills in Montana. Your breath caught and you quickly brushed away the tears that had welled in your eyes, pursing your lips and glancing at the paperwork spread in front of you. There was so much work to do here with the Harrison case. Your eyes roved from the physical documents to the spreadsheets on your computer screen and back again. It would be foolish to take time off now when you were so close to finishing it up. You could see your father’s frown as if he was standing in front of you.

And yet… Your grandfather hadn’t been a part of your life for so long. In the beginning, when your parents had told you abruptly that Grandpa had done something bad, been mean to them, you took it hard. Seven years old is a horrible time to lose a grandfather who taught you how to milk a cow and showed you the wonder in the small things. But as you got older and your parents became more embroiled in work, more distant, you put it to the back of your mind. You were still young enough that you had no choice but to take their word for it. The thoughts tripped around your head like a broken record; you felt a little queasy. You wiped brusquely once more at a stray tear and, taking a deep breath, turned to your monitor. You minimized one tab and opened another, preparing to write an email. It was a little more difficult than you had anticipated though and ten minutes later when your assistant walked in reminding you of your 2 o’ clock, you startled from a blank daydream and an even blanker screen. Your surroundings rushed back in around you on a pinpoint vortex and all at once, you knew you had to go. Regardless of parts of the will needing to be handled in person, something split in your heart. Right now, your place was at the ranch.

“Reschedule that appointment please. Let Clark know we’ll be switching it over to a Zoom call. Actually, cancel the rest of my appointments for the next two weeks. I’ll let you know if I need you to move anything around after that.” She widened her eyes but nodded all the same, turning and exiting your corner office with purpose. You began typing out the email to your father letting him know that you’d be taking advantage of all those vacation hours you had stored away for a rainy day. You would take the Harrison case with you and could easily finish it remotely. It would be on his desk by the deadline. Your rainy day was today but despite the circumstance, you were beginning to catch the feeling that there wasn’t a cloud in sight. The ranch house flashed across your mind’s eye and you blew out a breath from your lungs you hadn’t even realized you were holding.

You clicked send and stood, throwing on your coat and gathering the necessary paperwork from your desk. You let your assistant know you were leaving and walked out the door, not bothering to pay attention to a few pairs of wandering eyes who watched as you entered the elevator and headed down to the ground floor. With each minute of descent through the high-rise building, you felt your heart beat faster. It felt like there was a balloon in your chest waiting to burst. Your heels clicked on the marble floor and as you pushed through the doors into the spring air of New York City, you felt just a little more alive than you had moments before.

The redeye flight and extra two-hour drive put you in Dove’s Reach before the sun had completely risen. Last week if someone had told you that you would be standing here right now looking at your grandfather’s ranch house with the notion that you could fix it up, you would have laughed in their face. But as the sun rose in the east, it felt as if anything was possible. To the north was a range of mountains that could have looked menacing, but from your vantage only served to leave you in awe. The immediate land was just miles and miles of green fields that met with forest. The trees were behemoths; the sun bathed everything in a rich golden light adding unbelievable depth to the scene before you. The air smelled clean and fresh and alive.

You resisted the urge to pinch yourself because if this was a dream you never wanted to wake up. There was your grandfather’s house right in the middle of all of it. It still held the country charm that you remembered but there was so much that was… off. From what you could see with the naked eye, the wooden fence was sagging and falling over in a lot of places. The barn was missing slats of wood and one door hung precariously on its hinges. The house was a relic, the paint dry and peeling. You knew your grandfather as a strong, stout man who even in his older age was capable of running a whole ranch. The state of things now left a hollow feeling in your stomach and left so many questions unanswered.

A suitcase, carry-on, and laptop bag was all you had with you as you took the key from under the mat and opened the front door. It groaned loudly as if it hadn’t been opened in a long while but it made you smile to know that your grandfather had left the key in the same place after all these years. You walked to your left into the kitchen and set your keys on the counter. The familiarity of it all suddenly made you pause with a sudden sense of Deja Vu. The magnets on the fridge, the little table with four wooden chairs, and an old fashioned clock hanging on the wall that had faded from a once dark blue. The checkered yellow and white curtains were rolled up above the farm-style sink and an old mason jar with some dried flowers sat in the sill.

You found yourself choking up as you realized your grandfather’s coffee mug, the big one with some western painting of a bucking bronco, sat ready next to the coffee pot. You walked over to it and cradled it in your hands as the feeling washed through your bones that it was your mug now. There was so much you remembered about him and yet so much you never got to know, never would know. It nagged at you as the realization began to set in that there was so much to get done to sell this place. And after it was gone, there would be nothing of your grandfather left. A shaky sigh escaped from your lips.

Sleep. Right now you just needed to sleep. You made your way upstairs, the wood groaning in protest as you went, and headed to the right where one of the two guest rooms were located. Again, it was like a museum, in a state of preservation. With a wrenching in your stomach, you wondered if he’d ever had visitors after you. The bed sat against the opposite wall under the window and the sunlight filtering in passed the tree outside left dappled patterns on the patchwork quilt. You brushed your fingertips across it and marveled at how soft it still felt.

The room smelled faintly of dust so you cracked the window. You were rewarded by the cool breeze laced with the scent of pine wafting gently into the room. It was the beginning of spring but mornings were still chilled with the end of winter. You were pretty sure that in the shade of various trees on your way in there were small drifts of unmelted snow and the dried grass in the fields outside had sparkled with frost. You flopped down on the bed, covering yourself with the knitted throw that was tossed across the bottom.

As your eyes fluttered shut, you had a distinct feeling that you had always lived here. The thought crossed your mind as you edged into sleep that maybe you should stay.

It was well past noon when you startled awake. This time, it felt like there was a weight on your chest. You cracked your eyes and let out a small ah when you were greeted by a plump silver and white cat with green eyes sitting on your stomach. It chirruped when it realized you were awake. The cat hadn’t been in the house when you arrived (that you had seen). Maybe it climbed the tree and hopped in the window. Either way, it had been a long time since you’d last had a pet (your long hours didn’t allow for it back in New York) and your heart did a light skip as you scratched behind its ears. Its purr sounded like a motorboat.

The breeze coming through the window was a little warmer now and after a while of trying to stay lost to the world outside, you knew if you didn’t get up right then, you wouldn’t feel motivated to do so for the rest of the day. And there was a lot to do. With an exaggerated grunt, you deposited the cat on the other side of the bed. It sat there licking a paw and periodically giving you an irked look. You let out a small snort and grabbed a pad of paper and a pen from the desk and began writing down your goals for the day.

The main one was a basic grocery list (you were pretty sure there was nothing in the fridge or cupboards), and now getting some cat food. If you remembered correctly, the actual town was about another half hour from the ranch in the opposite direction you’d come. You stood and winced as pins and needles prickled up and down your legs from sitting cross-legged on the bed. You glanced at your computer bag tucked in next to the desk on the floor. The Harrison case would have to wait.

Main Street hadn’t really changed much from what you could remember of your time here. A lot of red brick and dark wood. It was quaint and about as small-town as you could get. Something lurched in your chest when you pulled to a stop in the grocery parking lot. Everything was so foreign to how you lived in the big city but at the same time… it sang of a home you had not experienced before. Part of you thought it was a shame that you had to go back in two weeks. You brushed the thought aside as quickly as you allowed yourself to feel it. There was no use indulging that line of thinking and besides, it was the first day. You were sure you would feel differently at the end of that time after you’d put in the work that would be required.

The grocery store was bigger than you remembered; you were pretty sure it had been expanded. Maybe the town wasn’t as little as it used to be. A cartful of basics and what felt like 500 mental notes later, you brought your groceries to the front. You daydreamed for a moment as the steady beep of the register sounded in the background.

“You’re not from around these parts, are you darlin’?” You came back to yourself, shaking your head. The woman ringing you up was older, with short-cropped white hair and glasses perched on the end of her nose. Her name tag read “Rose''. “I thought so. We don’t get many people around here that buy tofu. Is it any good?” She wrinkled her nose in such a way that made you giggle. You shrugged your shoulders.

“There’re a few different ways I make it that taste pretty good. I’m not vegetarian or anything, I just like all sorts of foods.” She brightened at that; you guessed there were also not very many vegetarians in Dove’s Reach either. “I’m actually here to handle my grandpa’s estate. He just passed away…” You trailed off, surprised by the lump that was suddenly in your throat. Her eyes widened just a bit before she reached out to pat your hand.

“Do you mean Hank? Was Hank your granddaddy? Yes, he must be, I can see you have the same eyes now. Well, I’m so very sorry, hon. He was a good man. It seems like only yesterday he was here picking up groceries.” There was a tear in her eye now and it made you wonder how close the two were. “It had actually been quite some time since he was able to make it in here on his own. Months at least.” Months? So he had been sick for a while. Why hadn’t he told you? Rose saw the look flash across your face. “Oh,” she breathed out quietly, “you didn’t know, did you?” She clucked her tongue as you paid. “That Hank, always thinkin’ he didn’t need help. We were all surprised when he finally had Jonesy coming ‘round to do things in town for him. Jonesy was his attorney, you’ll probably be speaking to him soon, I’d reckon. Well, if you need anything, you just let me know, okay?”

You grabbed your bags and put them back in your cart. There would be time to ask Rose questions about your Grandpa later, you hoped. But right now, you needed to focus on getting help with the ranch.

“Well actually, Rose, I’m looking for some help to fix the ranch up. Do you know anyone off the top of your head?”

Rose had told you to go across the street to On The Wings of A Dove, the local hang out after a day’s work had been finished for a lot of folks. It was surprisingly modern with an old feel. Deep red brick, exposed black pipe, and low lighting. The smell as you walked in the doors made your mouth water. Luckily the owner, Gus, was in and was more than happy to help a young lady such as yourself.

“Thor! This lady here needs some help fixin’ up her ranch to sell. You lookin’ for work?” You glanced in the direction the portly man was facing, down the bench, and around a couple of other patrons. A man leaned out and smiled in your way; the flash of white teeth made your heartbeat stutter.

“As a matter of fact, Gus, I just finished up at the Finch’s farm helpin’ them with that young colt.” He stood and walked over to you. If he looked big from a distance, there was no denying it now as he moved into your space. You looked up at his face and the golden hair framing blue eyes was enough to make your brain go foggy. He held out a hand, the chorded muscle across his chest and in his broad shoulders evident even with such a small movement. You took it and something bloomed in your chest when his hand enveloped yours. His skin was rough with calluses. It was warm and a vision flashed across your mind unbidden: those hands grasping at your face, roving down your arms, across your chest, gripping your hips, and moving lower… You shook your head and tried to listen to the words coming out of his mouth.

“The name’s Thor. Thor Odinson. How may I be of service, pretty lady?” Normally, someone being so forward would irk you. But somehow hearing Thor say the words “pretty lady” in a slow drawl didn’t bother you in the least. You offered him a smile back, quirking your head to the side. Taking inventory. He couldn’t be much older than you if he was older at all.

“Thor Odinson? That’s an interesting name.” He nodded, ducking his head and running a hand through his hair. It looked ridiculously soft to the touch and you had to stop yourself from snorting in good-natured annoyance.

“Yes, ma’am. My family comes from the Old Country. They wanted a strong name for a strong man. Gus said you’re lookin’ for help though?” He crossed his arms and leaned in, the white t-shirt he was wearing stretching across his chest. You forced your eyes to move back to his face where you were met with a little crook of his lips. You were pretty sure he saw that but there was no embarrassment in the knowledge. “I can help you do just about anything. Pick your poison.”

It was a lot. And you were certain there was more than you even realized with your knowledge of how to run a ranch being zero. You listed off how the house needed a good cleaning but you could take care of that. It probably needed a new coat of paint inside and out. Several of the shudders on both stories needed repairing. The barn looked pretty run down but you hadn’t gotten up close to it yet. One of the doors had definitely been hanging crookedly on its hinges. Then there was the fence… You could probably use more than two people for that. You had no idea of what state the ranch hand cabin was in. You looked up at him and gave him a shrug. His eyebrows were up near his hairline as he leaned back and whistled.

“Boy, we’ve really got our work cut out for us, don’t we? Well, I think we’d better start with those things you mentioned first. Trust me, if there’re other problems we’ll find ‘em real quick. Might cost ya a pretty penny. Are we tryin’ to stay within a certain budget?” He looked you right in the eye and Lord help you, it had been a long time since someone looked you in the eye with any sort of sincerity. You were used to working with less-than-savory types in your corporate world. You cleared your throat and shrugged again.

“Not really. If we fix it up good enough, there won’t be a loss. It’s a pretty place. Just needs some TLC. And the land is worth its 500 acres in gold.” The silence was palpable but not in an uncomfortable way. Thor leaned in and you caught a slip of his scent. Sweat and leather and woodsmoke. You took a deep breath, pulling the smell with it. You realized he was listening. He wasn’t just hearing your words, he was taking them in and mulling them around in his brain. “But wait. Does that mean you’ll do it? We haven’t even talked about wages or anything like that.” He waved a hand in dismissal, rolling his eyes.

“We can talk about that later. What matters is you need help and we like to help people ‘round here. Maybe that’s not somethin’ you’re used to where you’re from? It’s all right though. I’ll introduce ya to small-town hospitality. When are you wanting to get started?” You threw him a sheepish grin before glancing down at the floor as if the pattern there was the most interesting thing in the world. If your parents could see you now, you knew they’d be appalled. Thinking of doing the work yourself, of hiring someone you literally just met and someone who was only suggested to you by a cashier at a grocery store. It was a little ridiculous you admitted but you brushed the thoughts away.

“Tomorrow? You can stay in one of the guest rooms in the house. There’s a ranch hand cabin but I have no idea what it looks like. As far as I can tell, it hasn’t been a working ranch in a while so there’s really no telling what state it will be in…” Again, he held his hand up slowly, politely putting a stop to the words pouring from your mouth.

“The cabin is just fine. I don’t need much anyway. Depending on how long I’m there, the only thing I ask is to bring my dog, Tucker, with me. He’s as good a help as any man I’ve met and twice as friendly.” You nodded enthusiastically. “Well, all right then. Sounds like everything is as settled as it gets for now. Can I get the address from ya? I’ll head over around 5 PM, get settled in if that suits your plans for the rest of the day.

“Perfect.” You smiled as he shook your hand again.

It occured to you that this is the first contract you’d ever made without a signature on paper and yet somehow, it felt like the most foolproof one as well.

It didn’t take long for Thor to settle in. He had insisted on taking the ranch hand cabin despite your protesting. When the two of you looked it over, it wasn’t as bad as you would have guessed it to be, even though there was a thin layer of dust on every surface. You searched through some of the cupboards and luckily came up with a spare sheet set. You took the old one to wash, holding your breath against all the dust motes that flew into the air as soon as you took the sheets off.

“Tucker didn’t want to come?” You asked with a teasing tone,one that Thor responded to with a laugh. He took his baseball cap off and roughed his fingers through his hair. He shook his head.

“No, ma’am. We’ll see how things go here but guessing by the fence line I saw on my way in, he’ll definitely be coming to stay here with me. Don’t worry, either way you’ll get to meet him. He’ll be tickled pink.” Again, a duck of his head that made you wonder how someone could have such good manners. You looked down, shuffling your feet. That seemed to be a regular thing for you now as well. Not being able to look someone in the eye? Not a good look on a big time lawyer. But you had an excuse, right? You glanced up through your eyelashes as he turned away and looked around.

He stood tall, straight-backed. You absently wondered if it was from riding horses. He probably looked great on a horse. He was no longer in just the white shirt from earlier but his Carhartt jacket didn’t swallow him, it just somehow emphasized how big he was. Every movement brought that into sharp focus. The floor creaked beneath his boots as he flipped switches on and off, watching with concentration as each lightbulb somehow still worked. They took a few moments to crackle on but crackle on they did. And with each one his smile somehow got bigger. After a little while of inspecting the little space he turned to you again.

“This will do just fine. No worries need be wasted on my behalf. Tomorrow I’m thinking we should head down to Redwood Hardware and see if we can get an order in for some fence posts. They might have some in stock already but the amount we’ll need is probably not gonna be in store. You might also wanna consider hiring other help besides me. I stand by my work ethic but we’ll get the job done a lot faster with more people.” You blew a breath out of your mouth and pursed your lips. He was closer in an instant, placing his hand on your shoulder. He lowered his head to make sure you would meet his gaze. It threatened to take your breath away. “I know it might not seem like it right now, but we’ll have this place up and running, sale-worthy in no time. A place your granddaddy would be proud of.”

You did meet his eyes then, glancing back and forth between them. You nodded. If anyone was going to tell you how a thing was going to go and you would believe them… It was going to be Thor.

The day came when it was time to actually set up the new fence posts instead of just staring at them with a certain bit of dread each day when you went outside. The sky was a blue that seemed to go on forever and the air itself smelled alive but still, you stood, hands on your hips, ticking off all the other things you could be doing. There were loads of things. But Thor stood next to you, a smirk on his face and you knew there was no way you could put off starting this any longer. He placed a hand on your shoulder and squeezed.

“It’ll be alright darlin’! It’s a lot of work, hard work, but you’ll get the hang of it. I’ll be right there every step of the way to help ya out.” Again, the uncanny wave of reassurance swept over you at his words and so it was you found yourself climbing into the passenger side of his old Ford and marveling at what pristine condition it was in. The last couple of days you’d been driving your rental car; there was an old Jeep in the barn but it needed more repairs than you could focus on at the moment. You’d seen his truck the day he drove up to the house and the days after but you hadn’t seen the interior and you were impressed.

You didn’t know many hyper-specific details about any vehicle but you guessed this one was old and yet… the seats were a rich brown leather, worn in certain places from use but not split. It even had a sheen to it still, as if he wiped it down on a regular basis. There was one little piece of plastic up near the passenger air vent that was slightly cracked but the rest of it still shone as close to new as it would ever get again. A reddish brown darker than the seats but just as fine. Nothing had been replaced or updated it seemed, just kept in the same condition it always had been. But looking around, you knew it had been used. It had worked many long years. You quirked your mouth and glanced at him as he shifted the truck into gear and drove through the gate, driving along the rutted pathway that ran along the length of fencing. The field stretched out for miles and miles beyond you in gentle sloping green hills. There were some wildflowers starting to sprout up but from what you understood, it was nowhere close to peak season yet. The fence closer to the buildings was in better condition; the farther away from there you got, the more obvious it became that the ranch had been non-operational for some time. As it was apt to do regularly now, your mind wandered. You were lost in two vast landscapes, one physical, the other in your memories. It took Thor slowing and then parking at the point where the fence literally ceased to exist to bring you out of yourself.

The two of you hopped out and started grabbing supplies. After figuring out how much you wanted to get done for the day, the two of you started in on the fence posts. Or more like Thor jumped right in and you took a split second to watch him as he began working. Almost immediately he shrugged off his flannel; he was in a simple white tank top and those ridiculously well-fitted Wrangler jeans and boots. Even the gloves on his hands looked slightly tight as if his hands were too big even for the large size. His motions were smooth and concise; he turned away from you, leaving his back on full display. You leaned on your post hole digger for a minute, taking in the way all the parts of his body worked together. From the muscles in his arms, the ones chord across his shoulders and back, all the way down to how his hips swayed with the movement.

An eagle cried out overhead and you moved in about ten feet away from him. You wanted to think that you knew how to do this right away just from watching him. The soil was no problem. It was soft and dark and easy to dig. The smell curled through the air and reminded you of being a kid, when the most you had to worry about was if the dirt was the right consistency for a mud pie. But after a few tries, you realized you must be doing something wrong because your hands kept slipping and Thor had already moved past you to dig and place two more wooden posts. Still, you don’t say anything just yet. You were determined to do this.

As the day waned on, slow as molasses, you could feel him watching you. He didn’t move in to stop you, didn’t tell you you were doing it wrong. He let you struggle. There was a war inside of you at that moment, part of you wanting him to jump in and show you how and the other part being refreshed by him letting you figure it out. That inner monologue went on for a while before he nudged you and handed you a bottle of water. You stopped, relieved. The sun was somehow high overhead now. For every one post you were finishing with difficulty, Thor was getting two done. Frustration flared over your whole body. He cleared his throat and raked his hand through his hair.

“I noticed it looked like you were havin’ a bit of a hard time diggin’ the post holes. Would ya like if I gave ya some pointers?” You watched him, the earnestness in his blue eyes, and nodded. A smile lit up his face and you wondered how many people got to see it. It was bright and put the endless Montana sky to shame. “Perfect. Let’s eat lunch now and then I’ll show ya a thing or two.” You munched on the turkey sandwiches you had thrown together, sitting on the ground in front of the truck where there was still some shade. The ground was cool beneath you, the air around you smelt like something that should be written about in a book; the earthy smell of grass , the distant hints of pine, the promise of wildflowers. Thor was sprawled out next to you but not in an overbearing sort of way. He just took up a lot of space. You tried not to concentrate on the fact that your knees were touching.

“So your granddaddy left you all this? I’d be pressed to sell it. It’s too bad ya can’t keep it.” You stiffened before catching yourself quickly, though you were pretty sure he had noticed He took his last bite before standing up. “You’ve got a life back home though. It’d be hard to leave that behind.” He held out his hand and you accepted it, wanting to push that cagey feeling behind you. He looked off in the distance, hands on hips, then back to you. “Well, ya ready for those tips?”

“Yes, sir.” You brushed dirt off your backside and put your gloves back on. “It is too bad,” you mumbled. Mumbled because you were too afraid that saying it out loud would change something for you. “That I can’t keep it, I mean.” He turned to you, not the least bit of surprise on his handsome face. But there was understanding there. He got it. You grabbed your post hole digger and went ten feet from the last post readying to dig the new hole. Thor watched your position for just a moment before you heard his footsteps come up behind you. And then he was standing there, at your back. If you took one half-step back you would be met with his chest. The day was warm but heat radiated off of him like a steadily growing fire. Something pooled low in your belly and your mouth went dry as he moved into your space and then you were flush with him.

His arms came around yours, his hands engulfing your own. His breath was warm near your ear as he rumbled “No, darlin’, like this.” He shifted your hands from the middle of the handles to the top. You were hyper aware of the way his arms felt around you, acutely aware of his scent. Sweat, and musk, and dirt. “That way you have more leverage and you’re not leanin’ over when it goes in the dirt.” He stayed like that for a moment, probably only seconds, but it felt like longer. You heard his breath catch from behind you before he slowly removed his hands, backing up just a pace. You immediately tried to retain the feel of him against you, the way his voice settled into you when he spoke. The way his smell engulfed you, making you feel like the safest person in the world. When was the last time you had felt that way?

Your limbs moved slow, as if your body was now full of lead. He moved back in again, briefly, sliding his boot between your feet and nudging them just a tad bit farther apart. “That’ll help too,” he said. And this time, when you raised the digger up and heaved down, you immediately noticed a difference. While it didn’t necessarily feel easier, it definitely didn’t hurt as much and your body didn’t feel as stiff, didn’t feel like it was being pushed into an awkward angle. You took a couple more plugs from the earth, digging down far enough to keep the pole stable and when you stood straight and looked at him, there was that grin written all over his face again. This time, that smile leapt to your face.

Thor pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, red with a white paisley pattern, and raised his hand, slowly, as if he was touching a wild animal, wiping a streak of perspiration from your cheek. “That’s my girl! Keep that up, we might not need help like I said before,” he exclaimed with a wink. Time seemed to slow to a halt. That’s my girl. That’s my girl. That’s my girl. The words thundered through your brain, down out your limbs, between your legs. That’s my girl.

You looked down at your watch, surprised to see the hands tick forward without delay. As the day went on, a thought tickled at the back of your mind, like a horses’ whiskers on your palm. It’d be easy to be his girl.

The night came in cold enough that you were filled with relief when Thor stood to his full height and stretched, slotting the post hole digger in a pile of soil and suggested the two of you call it a night. Goosebumps had already peppered your skin and the breath coming from your mouth was visible in the air. You nodded and stretched a little too, trying to ignore that stiffness you knew would turn into full-blown pain by tomorrow morning. Thor watched you quietly as you slowly put your jacket on; he glanced from the ground then to the sunset when you looked his way. You let out a small barking laugh and almost immediately regretted it, wincing as the cold night air ripped its way into your lungs.

You managed an uncomfortable grunt as you stuffed your gloves in your pocket and Thor grabbed the keys to his truck. You examined your hands; your palms looked like one huge blister. The skin was bubbled and inflamed and if you were being completely honest, it was one more thing you really had no idea how to take care of on a scale like this. Thor started the truck and even though it was only a ten-minute drive back to the house, you were already thankful in anticipation of him cranking the heater just a bit. It would hopefully be a small relief for the contracting sensation in the muscles along your shoulders and arms and back.

There was not a whole lot to gather since the only portion of the fence that went up today was the posts; still, you moved in to help him by grabbing some smaller loose supplies and your post hole digger. You could feel his eyes on you, feel the way he noted you navigating around your raw hands. It took a moment but soon he was wandering over to you and taking the items from you, nodding his head kindly to the truck. You mumbled your gratitude as you got in, frustrated with yourself. It was only the first day but Thor was already picking up your slack. You watched him from the passenger side mirror as he slammed the tailgate shut. There was not a bit of annoyance in his expression. You had small inkling you were being a bit too harsh on yourself.

When he got in, the truck groaned and immediately the cab that felt huge and open before now felt full; crowded but not in an unpleasant way. You sneaked a sideways glance at him as he settled in. He didn’t shift the truck into gear right away but instead sat back, gazing out the windshield at the sunset. Even from your vantage point, it was stunning. The sky was a variation of colors from deep black-blue, to a soft blue, to pink, to orange. The sun slipped back below the mountains to the north and west and the only detail you could make out on them now was their peaks; they were in shadow and looked like a great set of black teeth.

The light coming into the truck had softened, illuminating the planes of Thor’s face. The slip of his golden brown hair, the strong cheekbones and slope of his nose, the clean jawline that now had a five o’ clock shadow. It was quiet, save for the lulling roar of the truck engine and somehow you knew in that second, you wanted more of these moments. Your brain hadn’t quite latched onto how you would get them but you were going to try. Maybe it was Thor. Maybe it was the gentle heat in the cab with the chill outside. Maybe it was the clean smell of spring scented air. Maybe it was a hard day’s work that was so different than the long hours you kept at home. Right now, it didn’t really matter. You sat back with a sigh of content, able to ignore the subtle aching in your limbs. Finally, Thor let out a gentle hum, a sound you guessed actually reverberated through his body.

“When we get back to the house, we’ll take care of those hands, all right?” You nodded and he shifted the truck into gear, turning back the way you came this morning and it was suddenly all you could do not to reach out and rest one of those hands on his arm.

The gravel crunched under the wheels of Thor’s truck as he dropped you off at the front of the house, telling you he was gonna take a shower and then he’d be back up to bandage your hands. You tried to tell him you would take care of it, really, but he insisted. Deep down, you knew you had taken care of blisters on your heels before but nothing like this so you gave in, hiding a smile as he drove the truck down to the other cabin.

When you got to the bathroom, it took every effort not to just quit and wallow right there on the old tile floor but after a few struggling moments, you peeled your clothes from your body and stepped into the warm water, ignoring the stinging of the wounds. It took a few tries with washing off the dirt of the day, with every contact with soap intensifying the hurt in your hands. As you stepped out, you knew you’d be popping some Advil tonight; it would be foolish not to, you guessed.

You threw some leftover chicken noodle soup on the stove and plopped unceremoniously into one of the kitchen chairs, leaning your head against the wall as you relaxed. The fact that you hadn’t worked on the Harrison case for two and half days now nagged like a trapped rat at the back of your mind. Your laptop was currently upstairs though and there was no way you were forcing yourself up those steps again until you absolutely had to. Instead, you checked your emails on your phone, briefly scanning over the subjects on each of them and filtering out the spam. You set it back down with satisfaction. You’d just worked one of the hardest days in your life and you guessed it was probably going to remain tough from here on out. Despite that, you felt more nervous energy bubbling in your veins.

You decided to pull out the old maps you had found at the little desk in the living area. The house was small compared to the expanse of the land itself. Your grandfather hadn’t been a person who needed extravagance, that was for sure. Maybe you’d convert one of the guest rooms into a study. It would certainly be a lot easier to spread out property maps in an office rather than a little desk in the living room. You put little x’s where you thought the boundaries were. You were somewhat familiar in your work life with reading property maps but these… the maps were old enough that you were second-guessing if the plot already marked was accurate. Another thing to put on the to-do list for a town run. Land maps would be public record, especially in a town as small as Dove’s Reach.

A knock on the front door snapped you out of your thoughts. You hollered that the door was unlocked as you rolled the maps up and put them back on the desk out of the way. You ladled soup into bowls, setting them back on the counter to cool just a bit. You heard him knock his boots on the door jam outside and then set them with a thump just inside the door as he ambled into the kitchen. You reprimanded yourself as you turned and got caught off guard again by his size. His arms were crossed and he was leaning against the wood of the kitchen entrance, completely filling it up, quietly surveying your movements. You thought he was zoning out but you were not entirely sure.

“Uh, I hope chicken soup is okay,” you let out. His eyes met yours and he nodded enthusiastically as he shot you a dazzling smile. You gave him one back. “Somewhere else just then?” He nodded and you took one bowl at a time to the table, a heavy cloth in between your skin and the bowls. You hissed as the edge of one of the bowls caught a patch of the blister, the hot ceramic making the burning more intense than it should be. Thor was behind you immediately, taking the bowl and steadying it. It was a good thing because you were certain you couldn’t have prevented a spill at this point.

“Let’s take care of those blisters first. Looks like that soup is a little too hot to eat just yet anyway.” You nodded as he placed a gentling hand on your shoulder, maneuvering you to the chair you were sitting in earlier. The pain was pretty bad at this point; you had taken Advil about fifteen minutes ago but it hadn’t taken effect yet so here you were, miserable, and trying to fight the hot tears welling up in your eyes. It was embarrassing. Thor cleared his throat. “Did your granddaddy have a medicine cabinet around here?” You took a shaky breath and pointed to the little doorway off the kitchen.

“There’s one there in the laundry room on the opposite wall from the door.” He stepped away from you and into the little room. You could hear him open the cabinet door and rummage around. You hadn’t looked in there yet to see what supplies were available but you doubted any of it was still usable. Yet here was Thor, a huge grin on his face, some bandages in one hand and a questionable-looking jar in the other.

“I knew if your granddaddy was as much of a working man as you had mentioned that he’d have some of this here with him. Best ranch and farming remedy for just about anything.” You knew the look on your face was one of clear skepticism because he laughed, a deep booming thing that made you want to listen over and over again. “I know you city folk probably like to go to the doctor’s for everything but let me tell ya, if we put this on your hands twice a day and keep them all wrapped up, those blisters’ll be gone in no time. Three days tops,” he murmured as he finally looked at the ragged state of your palms. He was moving slower again, pulling out a chair and placing it right in front of you.

He sat down and despite the pain, or maybe because of it, your breath hitched when he caged your knees with his own. “Let me see ‘em up close, darlin’” he breathed as you held out your hands for closer inspection. He let out a low whistle as he gingerly took one, then the other to examine the raw skin. He rubbed a small circle on the inside of your wrist and you were acutely aware of every little detail as his calloused thumb against the soft skin there elicited an erratic heartbeat. He sat like that for a moment before seemingly catching himself; leaning back and reaching over to open the jar of salve. It was not a bad smell but you wrinkled your nose a little at it. He glanced over at you and smiled.

“This might hurt a bit. But it’ll help.” You nodded and braced yourself just a little. The balm itself didn’t sting but the contact of fingers on the blisters definitely did. There was no use hiding your grimace so you just let yourself go, taking deep breaths and letting them slowly out through your mouth. He was so gentle. This close and with his concentration on your hands, you allowed yourself to watch him unhindered by the threat of getting caught. His fingers were steady and slow and he was so sure of himself. You found yourself leaning into his touch, holding your breath. After he was satisfied with one hand, he took the roll of bandage material and slowly wrapped it around your palm, down around your wrist, and back up again to secure it in place.

“You did real good today,” he said quietly, still looking down, almost as if he was unsure he should say it. As if he thought you may not want his opinion. A smile spread across your face as you let out an exasperated groan.

“If you say so,” you replied, willing him to look up at your face to see that you mean it. He must have felt your eyes on him because he turned to you then, looking back. Searching. You felt the heat rise in your cheeks and creep down your neck and something leaped in your belly. He was so close. You could see his eyelashes. See how his eyes weren’t just one shade of blue but several different ones. You could smell him. A similar scent to when you first met him but also mixed with a fresher element from his shower. You could smell his wet skin and how it went from a day of work to warm water to the chill outside to the warmth of your house. It made you want to lean forward and bury your face in the place where his neck meets his shoulder.

You must have been staring a hole into him because he bit his lip then leaned back, finishing up with your other hand before grabbing the supplies and heading to the laundry room. “I do say so,” he rumbled from the little room. When he came back out again he’s smiling. His hands were on his hips and for whatever reason, it was exactly the release of whatever emotion that had transpired moments ago. You laughed, grabbing some bread slices and dropping them in the toaster. They popped up and you spread on some butter, ushering him to sit back down.

The conversation was easy, more idle chatter than anything else. Questions about each other’s lives. How long had he lived here? All his life. When did you know you wanted to work in law? As long as you could remember. You wanted to help people at the heart of it. How did he learn to train horses? From his daddy and his grandaddy before him. Would you ever consider keeping the ranch? The question caught you off guard and a rush of emotions flowed just beneath the surface of your calm exterior. Your pause told Thor what he had guessed the moment he saw you go to work on the land that morning.

“Of course I would,” you murmured as you pushed your empty bowl aside. You leaned onto the tabletop, one arm across its surface and the other supporting your face as your eyes stared off into space. “I just… I just don’t think it’s in the cards for me right now. If it had fallen into my lap under different circumstances or at a different time, maybe. But now? I don’t think so.” Your words trailed off and sounded empty even to your own ears. But as you glanced back up at Thor, there was no judgment there. Looking into his eyes, you could almost imagine a future here.

A future here was a dream though. A dream you were not keen on indulging. You tossed him a smile and grabbed the bowls to put them in the sink. Dreams were good. They could keep a person going. But you were already living a dream back home so you plastered your best convincing expression on your face just as he stood and brought the toast plates to the sink. You watched as he washed both of the plates, slowly, like he was waiting for you to amend your words. But you didn’t and he thanked you for dinner and headed for the door.

You followed him to it, leaning in the doorway as he stepped outside into the cold night air. He zipped up his jacket and turned back to you, a curious expression on his face. If he had thoughts about any of the night’s conversation, he didn’t voice them. Instead he just gave you that lopsided grin and bid you goodnight. Without a second thought, you reached out and grasped his wrist. He turned to you, looking at where your hand held on and then back to your face. You let go immediately.

“Um, thanks for… for today? For your help. Thanks for your help so far. I really appreciate it.” He chuckled low and quiet, a sound that seemed to continually get under your skin, and warmed you up from the inside out. He nodded.

“The pleasure’s all mine, ma’am.” You watched from your place as he stepped off the porch; you could still see how his breath fogged up the air. “Good night,” he called over his shoulder.

You did not retreat into the warmth of the house until the darkness swallowed him up.

“This is ridiculous. What do you mean there’s a stipulation?” Another ten days had gone by and you were just now getting around to meeting with your grandfather’s attorney. Thaddeus Jones was emblazoned on the golden placard on his desk. The man before you did look like a Thaddeus but at the beginning of the meeting, he had insisted that you call him Jonesy. He sat back in his chair with a look somewhat like that of a golden retriever being scolded.

“Well, your grandfather wanted to give you time to… enjoy the little things in life again. He thought that maybe you’d need a break from all the hustle and bustle in New York. As such, in his will he specified that you could only sell the ranch if you stayed there for one year. If at the end of that year you decide that you still want to move forward with the sale, then you are more than welcome to and will receive any and all profits made from said sale. If, however, you have a change of heart, the ranch is also yours to run as you please. But if you decide to sell any time before then, all profits made from the sale will go to our local youth program.” There was no use trying to hide the stunned expression written all over your face. You had to stay here for a year? How were you even supposed to go about this without feeling torn about one thing or the other? You weren’t in it for the money. You knew that with a certainty that sat deep in your gut. And donating to a youth program was a great use of anyone’s money.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. I just thought this wouldn’t be so complicated.” Jonesy nodded solemnly, his round spectacles sitting towards the tip of his nose. “I thought this would be a sign and done deal. I thought I wouldn’t feel so conflicted about leaving,” you finished quietly and suddenly it was as if the air had been punched from your lungs. There it was. There was the real reason this whole thing felt so ludicrous. It wasn’t the stipulation itself--it was the fact that you were actually considering it. You glanced out the vaulted window of Jonesy’s office. It was on the second story of his building and gave you a sweeping view of Dove’s Reach. It also gave you a focused picture of the huge storm brewing outside. Massive cumulus clouds gathered not so far away, the heart of them dark and foreboding. It mirrored the storm in your heart.

“I suppose the good news is that you have a while to make a decision. I’ll just have you sign some preliminary papers today and then you take all the time you need. It is a lot to take in but your grandfather was a good man, one of the best. I’ve known him since we were young colts ourselves. I’d like to think he knew what he was doing when he made this decision.” It was difficult to argue with any of that, considering you didn’t get the chance to know him better yourself. Maybe this was a good thing.

“Thank you, Jonesy. I really do appreciate it.” You bit your lip and glanced outside again. “That should work for today. I have a feeling I should be getting hom--getting back to the ranch before that hits.” You pointed and Jonesy watched you for a moment before nodding.

There really wasn’t much for you to sign at this point. Mainly papers about you having seen the will and that you had a knowledge of what was going to come of it. You gathered your copies and shook Jonesy’s hand before leaving; you were instantly glad that the two of you had decided to speed things up a bit because as soon as you exited the building, a cold gale hit you in the face, ripping back the hood of your jacket and nearly blowing your hair out of its braid. It would have been twice as cold had Thor not given you direction on which clothing was worth spending money on. You gave him a call, letting him know you were on the way back. It was a new routine, one that you had started. It felt good to have someone to stay in touch with. It was unlikely you’d get lost in such a small town, but still.

“Drive safe, darlin’. The closer you get out here, the harder the wind’s blowin’. I already put all the tools away and got most of the larger open spots on the barn boarded up. Also dropped some buckets on the front porch just in case. From what I could tell, the roof seemed pretty sounds but just in case.” A pause. “How did the meeting go?” You sucked in a breath.

“Different than how I thought it would go. I’d rather talk about it later though. I’m thinking I’m gonna head straight to bed when I get back. It’s just a lot. See you tomorrow morning?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

The drive back was definitely worse than the drive out. Wind and rain pelted your vehicle, so much so that by the time you got home your knuckles were white and your hands were aching when you released the steering wheel. Thunder rumbled closer and closer and lightning flashed in the distance. A warm bath and warm pajamas were currently at the top of your list. Then bed. You smiled when you saw there were indeed buckets on the front porch, all mix-matched colors and various sizes but they would do if the roof started leaking. At least you wouldn’t have to be scrambling to find anything if it did. There was also a note taped to the door, scrawled in surprisingly loopy handwriting.

Grabbing some clothes and things from my place, won’t be back for a couple hours. Call if you need anything :)

You smiled and stepped inside, glad to be out of the weather. As you turned again to glance out at the land, the sky darkened visibly even as you stood there. It looked like it was going to be a long night.

Your phone screen was too bright in the dark space of the living room. 8:30 PM. The power had gone out and it had taken you a little bit of time to scrounge up some candles to keep things lit. You knew you should just go to bed but quite frankly, you knew that wasn’t a possibility. The storm raging outside was unlike any storm you’d experienced before. Sure, there were big storms back in New York but this… the wind and rain was coming down so hard, you were sure the roof was going to tear off. It was doing surprisingly well right now but with each big gust, the whole house groaned. The thunder and lightning were even worse. The sound of both was so close, so loud, so frequent that your ears were ringing. There was no way to research now with the internet out but you were pretty sure you had read something about lightning being able to strike you in a house.

You paced, already familiar with the location of the furniture, every wall, every corner. It was a comfortable dance around the couch, passed the coffee table, to the window by the fireplace and back. A flash of lightning burst in the sky, illuminating every contour of the layout of the house. Almost immediately the clap of thunder sounded like some ancient drum and despite the logical part of your brain telling you it’s fine it’s fine it’s fine, you dropped to your knees.

“Holy shit,” you breathed through clenched teeth. Your hands were shaking as you brought the phone to your ear. Thor was probably already asleep. He had gotten back about an hour ago and was a naturally early riser because he somehow was able to fall asleep early every night. He was probably asleep--

“What’s wrong?” The sleepy gravel in his voice sent shivers tripping down your spine. He had been asleep. But those two words were still calm. Concise. Protective. You were silent. Now you felt stupid.

“Uh, it’s--it’s nothing. I’m sorry I woke you. I can’t sleep. This storm is pretty wild. Um. I thought maybe you’d still be awake and wanted a drink but it’s fine. We have--” You didn’t know if it was your rambling or if he sensed the fear in your voice.

“I’m comin’ up.” That was that. A dial tone. He had already hung up. There was no chance for you to object. You waited by the front door, listening to the rain and watching for more flashes of lightning. You heard Thor’s heavy footsteps as he came up the porch steps, saw him as a flash of lightning illuminated his outline from behind. You hastily opened the door. He hesitated for a moment, only long enough to watch as you nearly leaped out of your skin when another boom of thunder cascaded about you.

He stepped into you, wrapping you up in a hug. It was unexpected but you felt yourself sag into him. His jacket was wet from running through the rain so he slipped it around you and suddenly you were enveloped in warmth. You buried your face in his chest, as he rested his chin on the crown of your head, rubbing his hand down your back. You took deep pulls of his scent as his voice rumbled above you, into you from his chest.

“Aw, it’s just a little lightnin’, darlin’. Just a little storm. You’re safe. Nothin’ to worry about, I promise. You’re safe.” He kept murmuring it as he nudged the door shut behind him with his boot. Murmured your safety into existence like a mantra. As you rested there in his arms, your hands under his jacket around his back, you tried to remember the last time you felt this way, like nothing could touch you in the world. The house could crumble around you and you would be fine. In his arms, you would be fine. You gripped a little tighter, noticing with mirth how your hands could barely touch around his abdomen.

“How about that drink?” You said it into his chest as he stilled above you, breathing in slow and steady as he nodded into the top of your head. You reluctantly backed up from him as he slipped passed you into the living room making straight for the fireplace. He had it roaring as you brought two glasses of whiskey on the rocks and set them on the coffee table. You sat, dragging the blanket around your shoulders and allowing yourself to zone out while you stared into the fireplace. The crackling of its embers still couldn’t drown out the maelstrom outside, however. Thor took off his jacket and hung it on the coat rack by the door. When he sat next to you, the couch sagged under his weight. He took a sip of his drink before sitting back and opening his arms in invitation. You didn’t wait this time, instead scooting over to nestle up against him. Heat radiated off of him.

“Did you know the diameter of a lightning strike is actually only about the size of a quarter? Think about that, that big ol’ powerful force of nature the size of a coin.” No you didn’t know that. Another flash of lightning, another clap of thunder. This time you didn’t jump. “And thunder can actually be heard as far away as twelve miles from the actual strike.” Another sip of whiskey. “Lightning can also strike outside of the rain zone. Those strikes are called anvil crawlers.” A log shifted in the fire and your eyes drooped. He chuckled quietly as he intoned “In Norse mythology, the sound of thunder supposedly comes from my namesake as he rides his chariot across the sky.” You offered a lazy smile even though he couldn’t see it.

Thor continued on with more various facts about thunder and lightning and the storms that brought them. The taste of the whiskey sat light and spiced on your tongue, and your eyelids became heavier as you relaxed into him more. The fire burned steady and even though the storm continued to rage outside, at a certain point Thor’s voice faded into nothing as you fell asleep.

You woke up to the sun shining directly in your eyes. You groaned, shielding them from the crisp light and instantly regretted taking your hand out from under the blanket away from your heat source… Thor was stretched out behind you on the couch. It could barely fit the two of you but his arm was locked around your waist, caging you in. His breath came slow and steady on your neck. You could hear the rooster calling from his coop by the barn, hear his hens clucking about him. The cat you still hadn’t named was curled up on the rug by the fireplace, the embers almost completely died down. Thor took a huge breath, tickling the hairs on your neck as he rumbled something into the skin there. Your heart ballooned in your chest.

“I guess my facts weren’t that interestin’, seein’ as how we both fell asleep. Want some coffee?” You nodded as the two of you sat up. The cat chirruped from his place on the rug. He stood and arched his back in a stretch as well, coming over to the two of you for his morning pets. You both reached down to touch his hand, your hands meeting in the middle. Thor offered you a sheepish grin as he stood. “Uh, coffee is… ?”

“In the cupboard above the pot.” You smiled back, not bothering to hide any of the warmth in its shape. You stood, letting the cat out the front door. He seemed a little indignant at the fact that it was so wet outside but his ears swiveled and he was out the door and racing down the steps. You added some kindling and more logs to the fire, satisfied as flames leaped into existence. Thor handed you a mug of steaming coffee, with cream and a little bit of brown sugar. How he knew how you liked your coffee you didn’t know. But you liked that he knew.

The storm had cleared. A peek of blue sky could be seen from the window. With the clear sky came clear thoughts. It had been two weeks already since you had come to Dove’s Reach. Two weeks since you learned you had the rights to a whole ranch. A day since you had learned that you had to stay here for a whole year if you wanted to see any profits from selling. And only a night since you had realized that a year was no time at all.

#thor x reader #thor odinson x reader #thor #thor odinson #cowboy thor #western thor #i need a hero #inthorantine writes #i did it!!!!#i finally am posting it!#i hope chapter 2 will be just as good

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shelbyshoe · 3 years

Text

Garden and Lace

I've done a ton of revision and edits on this one, so I'm posting the better version here. Enjoy!

By the end of their mission, Levy is over Natsu and Lucy's arguing. She decides to take matters into her own hands. To finally have some peace and quiet, she traps them in her little glass bottle that houses her secret garden. With lots of time to kill, Natsu and Lucy must make up, but Lucy has other sensual plans of revenge.

Rated: Explicit

Some Explicit Tags: Smut, Light BDSM, Restraints, Ejaculation Denial, Edging :)

Words: 3940

FFN

AO3

Technically they had succeeded in their mission, but Levy Mcgarden felt far from successful on their way back to Magnolia. They completed the job, but in usual Fairy Tail fashion, they did not receive a reward. This didn't bother her. She only wanted to get out of her house. What irritated her was her partners' constant fighting. Natsu and Lucy were her close friends that she would lay down her life for, as they have done for her on many occasions. At that moment, however, all she wanted was to shove her fists in each one of their faces. This jarred her, as Levy was the nonviolent type. She needed to devise the perfect plan to ease her headache and still make it to Magnolia in time to see the next sunset. Levy sighed as their voices rose over the trees. She could barely pick up the sound of wings fluttering above them. Even the birds could not tolerate them. She hadn't expected much from their simple escort mission, only to get out of the house. Gajeel had left with Lily on another stealth mission for the master, so she felt compelled to depart on her own. She'd originally felt grateful for the extended invitation from Lucy. Her friends became a couple only a week ago, although not officially. Lucy sat down with her before their mission to explain. At first, this amused Levy. She thought it would be a quiet mission with the two love birds. She would get her hands on some extra cash and get out of town for a few days. Instead, Levy heard nothing but arguing.

"You didn't have to destroy the whole building!" Lucy complained. The trio took a break and sat on rocks near a once peaceful river. The day hot enough without them spitting words at each other.

"What was I supposed to do? Let him get away?"

"You could have taken it outside!"

"I can't always control that!" Natsu retorted. Levy's head pounded from the constant noise. She understood Lucy's frustration, but she also empathized with Natsu. For this reason, she stayed out of the entire argument. At least they didn't drag her into their discussion. They needed a valuable time out together in a quiet space. Levy remembered the small bottle she kept in her bag. She pulled the bag over her shoulder and inspected its contents. Levy shoved her arm into the mouth of leather all the way to her shoulder, glad she had created a bag with such an immense extension. She continued to rummage around for the bottle. The bold letters on the front spelled out "bag" and moved along with her arm inside. At that moment, Natsu picked Lucy up and threw her over his shoulder. "That's it," he said.

"You put me down right now!" she exclaimed. Levy watched out of the corner of her eye as Natsu began to walk Lucy over to the river. They had completely forgotten Levy's presence. She needed to find the bottle quickly before Natsu did what she thought he would do.

"Ah-ha!" Levy called out too late, as Natsu hopped into the river, and Lucy screamed. A great splash followed the sound. Natsu threw his head back, water dripped from his hair, and laughed as Lucy stood up and outstretched her arms to grab him.

"That's enough!" Levy cried, stood up from her rock, and stomped to the river's edge, "I can't take any more of your arguing!" The small mage watched as they both glanced in her direction. They were hip deep in the river, completely soaked. "Now, you both get into this bottle and deal with your problems before my head explodes."

"Now Levy, we can talk this out," Lucy said, trying to reason with her in vain. They must have seen something dangerous in her expression.

"Yes, you can," Levy said, her smile evil and wide, "once you get into this bottle!" Their eyes followed Levy's quill, as she began to form words in the air. S-H-R-I-N-K.

"Wait!" Natsu called. The smoky words darted toward them and slammed them back into the air. The world around them spun with a gust of wind.

Lucy closed her eyes and waited for her body to land but didn't fall as hard as she expected to. The patch of grass she landed on was soft. She squinted her eyes in the dim light when the day turned to night. Lights twinkled in the distance through the trees. She sat up slowly and recalled what Levy had said to them. Lucy would apologize to her later. She didn't realize how much she and Natsu fought. As much as she loved him, Natsu infuriated her at times. His destructive behavior always got them into trouble. This time, all the reward money from their mission went to pay for damages the dragon slayer created. She did understand where Natsu came from, but the excuses never ended.

Lucy stood in cast shadows, and spots of lights rustled with the light breeze around her. They reminded her of little fairies dashing in and out of the brush. She shivered and wrapped her arms around her body with clothes still soaked from the river. The plants around her stretched out vast and foreign. Someone collected all of them and blended them together in one place. Lucy recalled the glass bottle in Levy's hand as the small woman lectured them. She must have sent them inside her bottle full of shrunken shrubs to get them out of her hair. Lucy brushed some grass off her blue skirt and pressed on through the strange foliage. Levy must have put a lot of work into her little terrarium. Some flowers Lucy had only seen in books. Some crawled up the trees, and some pushed through the dirt at her feet as she walked. She noticed the tiny purple petals sprouting from each step she took. She walked on with magic all around her—a chill against her skin. When the lights appeared closer, she moved a large jungle leaf to reveal the source of light.

A bright clearing between the massive plants revealed itself. An outdoor sitting area sat in the center draped in light netting. An inviting sizeable rug and pillows arranged on the lush grass. A short table with a turquoise tea set sat in the middle of the space. Above her, strung through the branches, tiny fairy lights lit everything in the clearing like stars. Bright insects weaved in and out of the tree canopies. Had Levy meant to punish them or reward them? Natsu. It was crucial she find him before he destroyed Levy's garden. Lucy inspected the opposite side of the clearing. She brushed the large leaves aside and stepped into the darkness.

"Natsu!" She waited for any other sound than the soft rustle from the wind through the trees. She heard something fall from a tree above her. With a small yelp, she backed up into the brush. Whatever fell from the sky had landed with a loud grunt. She heard a cough and knew what or who had fallen. "You scared me!" she said. Natsu lay on his back with furrowed brow and wet clothes. She stepped into the light and reached out her hand to him. His eyes opened slowly and gazed up at the tree where he had fallen.

"Lucy!" he exclaimed, taking her hand and hoisting himself up onto his feet, "Looks like there is no way out of here."

"What were you even doing up there?"

"Thought I could get a good look from the trees. Where are we exactly?" he asked.

"We're inside Levy's bottle," she replied, "I think this is her garden."

"How long do you think she'll keep us in here?"

"I assume until we get back to Magnolia." Lucy pushed past Natsu toward the sitting area. She wrapped her arms around her again with a shiver. He inspected her body with the movement. A light against her skin, warm and golden, cast shadows across her features.

"Lucy you're cold," he said. She continued to tremble; her eyes narrowed.

"Whose fault is that?" she accused. Natsu strolled around the sitting area—observed the plants around them. He squatted beside the tree line and squinted at a small twig that inched toward a bush like a caterpillar.

"This place is really cool," he decided. Lucy gazed at him from where she sat. His exquisite muscles moved suggestively beneath the soaked dark fabric against his tanned skin. The anger she felt for his usual antics subsided for the time being. Instead, her eyes darkened with the possibilities. She recalled all their intimate moments since they started seeing each other. She imagined the way his body moved beneath her thighs as she straddled him. If they were to spend hours together, trapped in a glass bottle of plants, she thought she would take advantage of it. Instead of pouting about Natsu's dunk in the river, her mind bloomed with ideas of revenge.

Natsu had never seen a place like this, more vivid than his own imagination. He wanted to ask Levy how she had created it all. Lucy might know. When he turned to her to ask, his mind silenced at the sight of her. Lucy's arms outstretched over the pillows, her hair draped around her in a golden display, and her eyes roamed his body like a hungry predator. Nothing grabbed his attention more than her white top, drenched from the river, clung to her skin to reveal hard pink nipples beneath the impeding fabric. Her eyes revealed no embarrassment, in fact, they invited him. He gravitated toward her like a moth.

"Lucy," he almost growled, "If you don't stop looking at me like that." If she invited him to take her here, could he promise her he wouldn't lose control?

"You'll what?" she teased. The look he gave her caused her to squirm. She'd play the temptress to catch him in her trap.

"Do I even have to answer that question?" he said. He didn't know what changed in Lucy to forget their argument, but he wasn't about to remind her. The hem of her skirt rose slowly to her upper thigh as she spread her legs. Natsu sunk down on his knees before her, desperate for the treasure between them. His fingers slid beneath her skirt when she stopped him.

"Not until I say so," Lucy said. She reached down and cupped his face in her palms and lifted his mouth to meet hers. His hunger seized her as soon as she pressed her lips to his. A soft breeze sent a shiver up his spine. The drenched clothes they wore now felt like heavy lead against their skin. Lucy placed both palms on his shoulders and guided his back to the floor. Natsu obliged without hesitation, his eyes heavy lidded, and waited to see what she would do. Lucy slid her fingers beneath his top to peel it from his skin. She tossed the fabric to the side without a glance, sat up, and gazed down at his bronzed skin. His arms above his head in surrender and chest bare as it rose and fell heavily with his excitement. His lips barely parted, invited her. She knew this look. A concentrated expression he would give his enemies, but with Lucy, it was to conquer not destroy. She had seen it whenever they made love. The images she conjured sent a wave of heat to her sex. Natsu's eyes darkened as he scented her, his length stiffened beneath her.

"Lucy, let me touch you." His voice husky with need and his hands curled into fists— fighting restraint. She only grinned in return. She reached around her waist, pulled off her belt, and tossed it to the side. Her familiar whip left in her firm grasp. He knew the custom leather weapon from every battle they entered together but never had he seen it in her hands with such a look in her eye. She pulled the leather between her fingers and leaned in to take his wrists, her breasts in perfect view. He leaned in and pressed his lips against one of them and heard a soft groan leave her body as he kissed her breast through the thin soaked fabric. She inspected the whip that firmly bound to his wrists together. Lucy slid her hands against his muscular chest. Her fingers leisurely glided against every ridge of muscle. Natsu closed his eyes with the irresistible sensation. This woman drove him crazy and surprised him every time they were together.

Lucy dipped lower to undo his belt, dropped the belt beside her own. His heart raced as she worked his pants open. With a firm grip on his waistline, she pulled down both his pants and boxers over his painful erection, starved for her touch. She gazed greedily at his body like a prize she had won and sat on her knees between his legs. Before she leaned into trail kisses down his chest, Natsu swore he heard her whisper, "lucky." He arched his back when her tongue darted out and trailed along his torso with her plump lips. The scent of her arousal permeated all around him. He groaned beneath her soft touch, his instinct screamed to claim her—to rip out of her precious whip and take her on the rug. "Lucy, please," he said between gritted teeth. He heard her chuckle before she wrapped a small hand around his cock. Natsu moaned with exquisite pleasure and bucked into her grasp.

The sight of him in her palm was one of the sexiest things she had ever witnessed. A powerful dragon slayer writhed in her grasp. Natsu lay naked, tied up, and completely helpless to her. The power intoxicating enough to embolden her. She rubbed his head slowly with her thumb. The tip glistened with his precum and throbbed with the need to release. Her other hand gripped the inside of his well-built thighs. Fuck.

"Don't worry Natsu, you'll like this," Lucy promised. She licked her palm and slid it over his immense length. His wrists struggled in their binding and his fingers dug into the grass. She gripped tighter over his velvet shaft and pressed her thumb against the vein beneath. He lifted his gaze to her hand in the way she worked. Her name fell from his lips as she upped the pace. Lucy wanted to burst into evil laughter with absolute power. She knew he was close when he bucked wildly against her hand and her name replaced with pleas. He finally seemed to fall apart when she cupped his scrotum and squeezed gently.

"I'm coming," he said, almost unable to speak the words clearly between ragged breaths. On a good day, Lucy would have happily obliged. Nothing pleased her more than getting him off and blowing his mind. Today was not a good day. She had prepared for this moment and almost pat herself on the back with how satisfying her revenge would be. Not only would she get her way in the end, and eventually allow him to come, but she would also punish him in the process. Plus, the whole thing was so hot she could feel her heat spill into her panties. When she felt the pulse against her palm, she tightly squeezed her fingers around the base of his phallus. Lucy knew the moment he realized what she was doing. His eyes grew wide, he moaned loudly and bucked his hips as hard as he could for the release that never came. When the ache subsided and his hips no longer moved, she let go of his shaft.

"Huh," she said, "It worked."

"Are you trying to kill me?" he demanded. She had expected the irritation in his eyes, but not the pure arousal from the act. He liked this.

"Maybe." Lucy needed him. She knew she wouldn't be able to last long without him inside her. Her core tightened to the point of ache as she sank lower between his legs.

"You're the death of me, Lucy Heartfilia." Natsu couldn't take his eyes off her, maddened with the need to bury himself inside her. Whenever she released him from his restraints, he swore, he would take her so hard she would scream his name. The anticipation set his blood on fire. She lowered herself between his thighs and trailed kisses down to his length, her mouth like flame against his skin. She gazed up at him in deep brown as she took his cock in her greedy hands once again. Lucy wrapped her lips around the head of his shaft, and her tongue lapped at the sensitive tip. Natsu arched his back again pulling at his restraints.

Lucy couldn't take her eyes off him. His chest moved up and down with his erratic breathing as he moaned. His face and chest flushed with the pleasure of her. The whole image so erotic she couldn't stand it anymore. She reached down with one hand to pull down her skirt and underwear. Natsu's gaze glued to the pair of pink lace panties. They were, in fact, his favorite pair. They fell before his eyes and lay on the ground beside her. Her hand moved to her weeping sex to touch herself, and he bit his lip at the sight. Don't lose control. He repeated the word like a mantra. She slowly took him into her mouth as she stroked her sensitive clit with her fingers. She was so wet, they slid easily over the throbbing nub. She couldn't help but moan against his cock. The vibrations made a curse slip from his lips. Lucy knew he was too big to fit entirely into her mouth, so she placed her other hand below her lips and squeezed tightly.

"Fuck. You suck me so good," Natsu said. She groaned when praises fell repeatedly from his lips, and she upped her pace. She sucked his shaft into her mouth with sloppy wet sounds in her ears and rubbed her drenched clit in a frenzy, spreading her knees wider for herself. She could feel her climax coming as his shaft began to pulse. This time she pulled her mouth away as he came and clamped her hand around the base of his cock once more. Without concern, she continued to reach her limit. Natsu shouted out with his denied release as she came against her own fingers. He watched helplessly as she rode her orgasm.

"Fuck," he groaned. His shaft cold and wet with the absence of her hot tight mouth. She stilled between his legs to catch her breath. Natsu took the opening and sat up. She gasped when he leaned into her and pressed her back to the ground. Natsu pulled free from his restraints while beads of sweat formed over his skin. With free hands, he placed both on either side of her head. "My turn." One hand reached up to restrain her wrists in a tight grip. With the other, he pushed his fingers between her folds and drove into her tight little cunt. She whimpered with his touch and thrust her hips into his hand. Natsu was relentless. He worked his fingers against her sweetest places until she became a puddle in his grasp. She cried out for her coming climax. Instead, he pulled his hand away and allowed her to wiggle her thighs together for relief. She groaned loudly at his gesture and frowned at Natsu's victorious grin.

"Natsu," she pleaded. He let her wrists go and moved down to her blouse. The fabric teased her peaked nipples since they got there, and it didn't sit well with him. He took little time to free them from her blouse. Natsu tossed her top over his shoulder, and his eyes roamed her pale and perfect breasts before lowering his lips to one of them. He sucked her chilled nipple into the heat of his mouth. Lucy cried out when his tongue lapped at them, and his teeth grazed against her skin. The sound like a melody in his sensitive ears. He left soft kisses beneath one full breast and moved to the other, pleased with her reactions. Usually, he'd take his time and savor her, but after what she did to him, he had no more patience. He released her nipples and positioned his cock against her entrance. Her mouth hung open in an empty cry as he sheathed himself inside her. Her eyes rolled back with the sweet feeling of him filling her to the brim.

"Fuck Lucy." His control shattered and he squeezed his eyes shut as her walls tightened around him in a vice grip. He knew he would come sooner than he would like, and it was all a part of her plan. He took a deep breath to calm himself, readied for what came next. As soon as she adjusted, he pulled out of her to the tip and proceeded to slam into her dripping sex. Her breasts bounced with the force and a resounding slap of wet flushed skin filled the air. She was the most erotic and beautiful woman he had ever seen. All he wanted was to show her how he would worship her body. His name tumbled from her lips as he rode her hard. Her fingers dug into his back—implored him to continue. Natsu slid his hands beneath her and grasped her firm buttocks. He pulled her hips up to meet his and buried himself fully into her. "God Lucy, I can't," he said desperately.

"Come for me, Natsu." With her words, he crumbled. Their cries echoed around them as they came together. Natsu rolled his hips with languid motion, her tight walls squeezed around him in her orgasm. He all but collapsed to the side and pulled her close to his chest. He wrapped his legs around her possessively with his sex within her.

"Are we even? No more fighting?" he asked breathlessly.

"No more fighting," she agreed. If this was how all their arguments ended, she may not mind.

It took them a while, beneath the darkened canopy of trees and foliage, to unlock from each other. Lucy picked up her clothes and began to dress, as she watched the fireflies dash in and around the fairy lights. The place was like a walk in a dream. The two lay in a heap amongst the pillows. Lucy spread her arms out and leaned her head back against their softness. Natsu laid his head in her lap gazing up at her.

"I'm beat," he said.

"Me too." They sat together for a while and talked about everything and nothing. They almost dozed off with the sounds of the forest when they heard footsteps coming toward them.

"Geez, you guys really fight, don't you?" Levy said walking through the brush. She was in a fresh set of clothes and followed by a tall dark shadow. They knew she made it to Magnolia.

"Damn Salamander, what do you do, get into fistfights with the girl?" Gajeel's familiar voice said, "You both look exhausted." Natsu and Lucy glanced at each other and laughed.

"Something like that," Lucy said.

#nalu #fairy tail #ft fan fiction #nalu fan fiction #natsu x lucy #garden and lace #my writing

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borkthemork · 3 years

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Got tagged by @calamity-unlocked for the procrastinating writer ask, and might as well! Always fun to get away from the pains of editing, RIP to Falling Down Dry’s eighth chapter.

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

26.

2) What’s your total AO3 word count?

220,000.

3) How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

A lot. Just...a lot before I got into Ao3 so let’s keep it at that. But mainly I wrote for SU, Amphibia, and FMA.

4) What are your top five fics by kudos?

-Death of the Ego

I would say this happened because I wrote this at the right place at the right time. People had been theorizing that Steven would get corrupted ever since the trailer to SUF, and I originally made this as a one-shot...until people encouraged me to start exploring it.

Wouldn’t say it was my best work, but every time I wrote something it meant I improved slowly, and I would always appreciate that no matter the weather.

-Doesn’t Have to be Solo

Oh man, I loved this one! Just a series of connected events with Steven going on his road trip, and learning more about himself and who he was along the way. It also was the fic where I needed a lot of beta readers as time went on, so it made me learn a lot about grammar, prose, and overall the internal rules I developed while writing in general.

-Beyond the Music Box

This was the surprising one! This fic was originally a place where I could archive all the drabbles I written on Tumblr, and y’all really wanted it due to how chaotic my tag format is for this stuff.

It’s surprising for me because I didn’t expect a lot of love when it came to my casual writings since they take I don’t know an hour or so in creating, so thank you everyone who encouraged me to do this.

Just ignore the fact I’ve been lazy at updating the drabbles, shhhh.

-Building One Up

Marcanne, my beloved. Me and my friend kept talking about how Anne was a buff dork and this was at a time where no one really focused on that except mainly on Sasha when it came to strength (for obvious reasons).

I found this slander (I’m joking, by the way) and decided that I needed to write my feelings out on the topic.

And y’all agreed with me so dthdfthtfhtfht.

This also was the first time I had to hone in on a new form of characterization entirely, being that I infused the character’s thoughts and feelings into the way the prose flowed out itself. For Marcy, I went on a pretty analytical front with this piece, and it helped me get into the groove for people like Anne and Sasha and many others over the course of writing.

-Late Night Talks

I didn’t expect this one to blow up at all. I wrote this at one a.m. and y’all just grabbed this fic and ran, I am still confused.

5) Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I respond to comments all the time because comments just give a lot of serotonin, you know? Someone took their time out of their day to remark on things I did in the work itself, and it’s just very validating to see. It also creates this environment that says, “Yes, I see you, and you can interact with me anytime you want.” so it’s all about that friendliness unless you’re rude to me back.

6) What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Pizza for One. Had an angst kick when SUF occurred so I milked it whenever my motivation got the best of me.

7) Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I don’t write crossovers unless you mean a crossover of characters to a new environment and set of rules. I would gladly write characters into the FMA world, oh my Lord!

But I guess the craziest stuff I’d written would just be comedy sketches? Best example would be Joe and Bessie having kids and Marcy having a conniption over it, so take that what you will.

8) Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I don’t believe so? I did get one person on my old SU fic asking me to continue while giving me unsolicited advice but they apologized not soon after.

9) Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I do write smut. I write it privately but I adore characterization and intimacy, and so I try to make rather domestic pieces that connect to the characters themselves. If it has a certain kink, I make sure to research it so I could understand why the character finds the act rather arousing, and I just want to pay respects to the act itself.

Even with our current day and age, there’s still a lot of conservative anti-sex rhetoric going around, and I always try to view the act of physical intimacy in the same lens as one who adores love in all its different facets and forms.

10) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope.

11) Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope to that either!

12) Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Sadly, no. I do art trades with people and those are lovely to do since we get to brainstorm and make art together, but I’ve never co-written work with someone. If anyone wants to do that, then sure, just hit me up.

13) What’s your all time favourite ship?

It changes every season, every morning tide, every peace loving hour on the Planet Earth.

It’s Marcanne, right now.

When it comes to ships I always go with the Friends-to-Lovers dynamic, but a lot of the ships I have come from seeing the amount of intrigue in how that type of ship would play out. That could be with Kannao and the amount of commentary over Japanese gender biases, or Royai with their very complicated but extensive adoration and loyalty to one another.

For Marcanne, it’s all about that playful banter that could definitely bubble out of the surface if you just (bangs table) allow them to communicate and be transparent fully. (cries)

14) What’s a WIP you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Sadly, that Anne fic with her confiding in Hop Pop after they get settled in her house. After what happened with the sneak peek, I realized that this fic would need a lot of build-up to be satisfying and I didn’t have the strength to do a 10k build-up to Anne crying.

Maybe I’ll finish it, we’ll see.

15) What are your writing strengths?

Writing strengths would be concise prose and characterization. I am a worry wart, I worry over the importance of each paragraph and how it all forms and transitions together, it’s just a part of how I work a great deal of the time. And man, characterization is the big one for me, if I don’t understand how the people work and could theoretically function in the story itself, I feel absolutely lost.

Which is also the reason why I’m struggling right now with FDD Chapter Eight, because Marcy’s reaction to Yunan keeps eluding my grasp!

16) What are your writing weaknesses?

I overthink a lot. Concise prose is great but I force myself to get all fancy and massive with details since I’ve got to unless I want a specific part to be so quick and unmeaningful, and this leads to pacing issues or just not enough intended time for people to breathe in the fic itself.

17) What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I need to get a beta to make sure I don’t sound like an asshole, haha. I do love other languages, they are beautiful and can add a lot towards an audience who does know the language itself, but it depends on the work I’m doing.

18) What was the first fandom you wrote for?

That would be uhhhhh, my memory is lacking but Minecraft. The whole videogame had a wish fulfillment atmosphere to it, and since I got rather obsessed by how anything could happen in the engine itself I went with it.

19) What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

When it comes to me, my own perception of my art changes day to day. Back when I first posted the Lapidot fic I thought it was the best thing I’ve ever done even though now, with the knowledge I have from workshops and betas, that the style I drafted had a lot of grammar and prose mistakes that I wouldn’t make in the future. It is pretty subjective, but for now I think the best fic I could look at right now would be amestrian catcher (set something ablaze).

Thank you Calamity once again for this! And I’ll be tagging @resplendent-chungus, @aanau, and @golddragon387!

#tag game #personal

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zeppelin-and-unicorns · 4 years

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Fanfic recommendations part two: Stories that take place during season 8 (canon divergence)

This is a smaller category than the previous one, but I promise that those stories are amazing. I’ve read and reread every single one of them, and I love them all with all of my heart. I hope this post is useful to you. Lots of love ❤️

(And yes, they are in alphabetical order. I wish I’ve done that with the post season 8 post too, but it’s up for a while now and it would be just too much work to edit the whole thing)

All These Things That I’ve Done by c00kiefic

Story based on the sexual tension between Jackie and Hyde during season 8.

This story is complete.

26k words, 9 chapters.

Rated M.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Don’t Stand so Close to Me by c00kiefic

A story when Eric came back way earlier than he planned to because his friends were being dumbasses and needed some direction. Gotta love Eric Forman.

This story is complete and it’s a super fun read, 10/10.

95k words, 24 chapters.

Rated M.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, Eric/Donna, Kelso/Brooke, background Red/Kitty

Fear and Loathing in Wisconsin by elphabacan

What if Jackie had decided enough was enough after the slumberparty with Donna and Sam and recruited Brooke to go to Vegas? And what if turnabout is fairplay when they run afoul a charming lounge singer named Jude?

Lots and lots of love for this story. It’s amazing and it’s complete.

42k words, 15 chapters.

Rated T.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, Brooke/Kelso

Get Away From The Edge by BlueZeppelin

Jackie has been down for a while and it leads her to the Water Tower, alone and depressed. She wants to jump but will Hyde let her?

This story is kind of sad, but it’s still good. I just wish it gave us more details. Don’t read it if you’re triggered by depressive thoughts. It’s complete.

5k words, 3 chapters.

Rated T.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

I Think it’s a Real Waste by Jaded

In which Fez and Donna are decent friends to Jackie, and Hyde knows he fucked up. There’s a lot of J/H, but the story also focuses on all the gang. This is a really good story, please read this.

This story is complete.

120k words, 13 chapters.

Rated T.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, Eric/Donna, Brooke/Kelso, Fez/OC

Into the Woods by c00kiefic

Once upon a time, there lived a beautiful princess with long raven hair and enchanting eyes, whose only desire was to be loved by the handsome, yet distant prince…

I absolutely adore this story, I really, really do. It reminds me of fairytales and it makes me want to cry at the same time. Also, both Hyde and Donna get an not so pleasant “wake up call”, that they rightfully deserved btw.

This story is complete.

41k words, 10 chapters.

Rated T

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde mainly, some background Eric/Donna angst

Pain Without Love by YouLivexYouDie

This story made me cry so hard. It has a happy ending though, so it was worth it.

Jackie Burkhart is about to experience something life changing. She will never be the same afterwards, nor will the people who love her.

This story is complete.

12k words, 3 chapters.

Rated T.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Confession by heavinly-vixen

After the torture Hyde had been inflicting upon Jackie since the arrival of his 'wife', Jackie just needs to talk to someone who's on her side.

This story is complete and it has a sequel! It’s called Reconciliation and it’s also complete.

12k words, 9 chapters.

Rated T. The sequel is rated M.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Made Bare by MistyMountainHop

A heartbroken Hyde considers his relationship with Jackie kaput. Too bad Jackie sees it differently. She intends to get a proper resolution with him, but breaking through his hostility — and getting past his wife — may well prove impossible.

This story is complete.

50k words, 8 chapters.

Rated M.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, background Eric/Donna

Also available on AO3

Someone To Love by Bunny1

Hyde comes back from his 3 month bender to the unexpected.

This story is complete.

6k words, 7 chapters.

Rated M.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

The Birds and The Bees by c00kiefic

Jackie’s pregnant and the father of her child is married to someone else. Amazing story, what I love the most about it is Jackie and Donna’s friendship.

This story is basically complete, the only thing missing is the epilogue.

22k words, 6 chapters.

Rated T.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, Eric/Donna

The Right Road Lost by zpplnchick

After a car accident, Hyde wakes up to a twisted version of reality he comes to find is actual hell and with no memory of how he got there, a hell that Jackie's been living in for the past few months. Set during Season 8, shortly after "Sweet Lady".

This story is complete.

43k words, 20 chapters.

Rated M.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

The Road to Redemption by Hyde’s Bride

Jackie leaves the group because of Hyde and Donna's behavior. Eric comes back early to find how things have changed. When he forms a new bond with Jackie, will it force Hyde and Donna to fight for them? Or will they lose their loves forever?

This story is complete.

33k words, 12 chapters.

Rated M.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, Jackie/Eric, Eric/Donna

When The Leeve Breaks by zeppelinandunicorns

What would've happened if Jackie and Donna left Point Place when Eric moved to Africa and Hyde married a stripper?

Donna and Jackie moved to Chicago once they realized that they've sacrificed themselves enough for the sake of their relationships with Eric and Hyde. Will it be too late to fix things once the boys realize what they're missing?

This story is a WIP.

So far, 125k words, 23 chapters. This story will be 54 chapters long so... yeah.

Trigger warning: Depression, past eating disorders, child abuse

Rated T.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, Eric/Donna

Zen Vision by Ultrawoman

A series of one-shots turning each and every episode of the horrendous Season 8 into a happy Jackie and Hyde love affair!

This story is complete.

37k words, 22 chapters.

Rated T.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

One-shots during season 8:

Being Here by UnfitWriter

Set in season 8, after Sam's departure. Jackie and Hyde can't stand each other, but when something horrible happens to Hyde, Jackie will try to console him in only way she knows how.

5k words.

Rated M.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Here Comes Goodbye by nannygirl

Sometimes you just have to say goodbye. Or not.

5k words.

Rated T.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, background Red/Kitty

Reconnecting by SerenitySparrow

During the party at WB's house in season 8. Jackie and Hyde hook up in a coat closet during the party.

3k words.

Rated M. Very M.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

Tipping Point by janus_74 (tanner)

How a different Perfect Man list could change the end of Season 8.

4k words.

Rated T.

Pairings: Jackie/Hyde

So far, this is all.

I’ll repeat this at the end of every single post: speaking as someone who writes, it would be really cool if you guys decide to leave a review (or a comment, if the story is on AO3) in the stories you read, especially the unfinished ones. It really motivates the authors, and receiving a compliment is always a mood lifter. I’ve seen some authors updating stories after years because of nice reviews, so… yeah, this is just an idea.

If you think I left out a good story, feel free to reply to this post!

Next category: Season 7 fix-its.

#jackie x hyde #jackie and hyde #fanfic rec #zenmasters #that 70s show #that '70s show #fanfic recommendations

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lumilasi · 3 years

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I saw this in my feed and since I was pretty bored and FINALLY free from the said boredom, figured I could do this one. I generally enjoy question based tags, especially if they relate to art/writing/fandom/are some general things about favorite colors, music, foods, things about your home country etc.

(basically, you can tag me in stuff similar to listed above things and I’ll probably do them if I see them/have time lmao)

Fic Writer Questions!

How many works do you have on AO3?

44 total. I used to have more but I’ve deleted an old Bleach one I knew I’d never continue to write, and two bnha ones for the same reason (those two were also at the very beginning stages so nobody missed a lot anyway)

What's your total AO3 wordcount?

4 269 068......wow. It’s even MORE than I even imagined. Over 4 million words.

....Someone take my writing tools away from me lmao

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Three. I started with MCU, moved on to Bleach and now I’ve done most ofr BNHA

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Crossroads - 3069

Family Secrets - 3015

Reanimate - 1534

The neighbor - 809

Espada and Fraccion - 782

.....Admittedly this list surprised me. Not the first three but the last two. The fifth is an one shot for Bleach that I wrote AGES ago. I also for some reason expected this list to match the bookmark list more lmao

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I always try to respond to every comment I get, but often times when it’s just one word or a heart emoji I don’t really know what to say, so I might not reply to those. I do appreciate every comment I get, and read every single one, even if I don’t respond

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

I don’t do angst endings typically, but Family Secrets is probs the most obvious choice, given what happens at the end.

- and its not even the real end, because I couldn’t help myself and made two more stories for the AU that was like “hey! this character I made you all love so much actually DIDN’T die, he just had unfinished business back home” lmao

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you've ever written?

Rarely, typically they’re between my own fics (the story that crosses the paths of Crossroads and Family Secrets AU’s, literally titled Crossover, creative name I know OTL I was out of ideas)

Or between me and other people’s fics. Currently there’s two, both with Crossroads: one with Theteapotofdoom’s fic Something Good, and another with leontheneon’s fic Here with you. Both stories are basically a two part series that is non canon to actual Crossroads. The first story is finished, second one has two chapters left...that...I uh...struggle to write it seems OTL

(not tagging either person into this because Tea is very busy IRL right now so I don’t want to bother her, and Leon hasn’t been around in ages, IDK if they even use tumblr anymore)

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not really no? I can only remember one time with somebody kind of demanding me to completely rewrite one fic in the past. It wasn’t really hate, more just...kinda unreasonable in my eyes? This was years ago by now.

While I did understand their side and the particular struggle they had (once they actually explained it, the first comment at the time came off pretty rude and demanding), I still feel them wanting me to re-write an entire multi-chapter fic just for them is a bit unreasonable, like said.

Like it wasn’t just couple of grammatical errors that was their issue, we’re talking weeks and even months long process of completely reworking multi-chapter story, because the grammar wasn’t tip top perfect. (I’m not a native speaker so there’s bound to be some mistakes; pointing out small occasional things is one thing - asking me to rewrite an entire multi-chapter story is another)

You can imagine that is not exactly high on my priorities list with IRL responsibilities and being more focused on the actual content of what I write, the ongoing stories I’m updating. This fic isn’t even finished yet either, so...yeah. Like after they explained their side of the story I was a bit more understanding, but its still....a bit ridiculous and unreasonable in my eyes to ask somebody to do such a massive overhaul when the story isn’t even finished yet?? Like maybe once its done and I have time I can go and edit it, but not when I haven’t even finished it lmao

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Nah. I don’t care about smut a whole lot personally. I much more enjoy writing emotional scenes, character interactions and mystery. Plot over porn basically lmao

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don’t...do people actually do this? It feels like such a weird and pointless thing to do. It’s fanfic. stuff you write for fun and for free, for people to read for free. I’d also imagine its pretty easy to get caught given AO3 shows when you first posted your story.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, a couple of times. In Russian and I think other one was Chinese?

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Writing the crossovers was kinda that? Like I asked feedback from Tea and Leon on how to write them. there was also actually third crossover story that was supposed to happen (only I wasn’t going to be the one to write it) but this project has been shelved as the other person had to drop majority of online activity due to some IRL health related things. (I’m just glad they recently contacted me to inform they were doing better)

What’s your all time favorite ship?

Right now it’s..probably pretty obvious its Shigadabi, but I can never really say any ship is my all time fave, as it always changes depending on the fandom lmao.

I guess my favorite character x proper sleep/emotional stability/happiness will always be the OTP

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Oof. I always try to finish every single one, and if I absolutely know I won’t, I tend to just delete them. Thankfully I’ve only done it thrice. Which I guess is still a lot, but compared to how much I write, in context not really?

What are your writing strengths?

From what I’ve gathered of feedback, its typically emotional moments/character dialogue and interaction/character arcs and so. Mystery plots too. Or maybe that last one is just me lmao

What are your writing weakness?

Personally, while I tend to get positive feedback on both, sometimes I feel like I struggle to choose a good pacing for a fic, and fight scenes are always a pain. Namely, I might struggle with making the pace too long-winded and slow sometimes. Ironically, my IRL update pacing is probs a bit too fast in turn. (To add another layer of irony, I got an update ready for Unravel that I’ll post after making this tag)

Also writing shorter stories. I’ve been trying to write one-shots more (like the Spinaraki series thing) to kinda try and get myself to pack up my stories better and not let them always spiral out of control haha

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I did try to do that once with a fic I deleted, I had a native speaker help me with the canadian french bits. This person is no longer active on tumblr, and I deleted that fic because I realized I’d never finish it.

Technically tho, as a non-native English speaker, EVERY word is in other language to me lmao. I could only add Finnish as an extra one easily, and it rarely makes sense to do so anyway.

What was the first fandom you ever wrote for?

MCU. It’s what I originally made my AO3 for, as I felt brave enough to post things. I also can’t remember writing fandom related stuff before that, it was typically more oc related. Writing fics has helped me learn a lot about world-building, character consistency and all that stuff, without having to make everything from scratch (tho I do enjoy doing that as well of course). I feel like my original work writing has improved too thanks to my fic writing shenanigans in a way lmao. Tho that might just be me, IDK

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Oooof. This changes a lot depending on the time. I can never really pick just one either: my current favorites are Stringmaster, The neighbor and Family Secrets

Stringmaster because I love building the Steampunk AU, and Tomura’s relationship with Dabi and his Sensei, The neighbor because I personally think the romance build up in that one is probably one of the best I’ve done so far (the character dialogue in that is among my favorites I’ve written as well) and FS, because it taught me a lot about character building through writing a character like Hisashi.

Plus I just really like Hisashi.

And baby Izuku and little Tenko are super adorable.

And Inko is the best mum.

Also the fact the whole story is so ironic in a sense its still kinda funny to me.

The only writer I know that might be around rn is @nightlilly0110 soo...I guess I’ll tag them if they want to do this! Anybody who’s a writer can snatch this too of course ;)

#tag game #writer tag #fic writing

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kurodachimagic · 3 years

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Chocolate and Cherries - Chapter 1

Summary: When Adachi falls into the arms of a kind stranger his life changes for the better.

Rating: Pg 13

Tags/warnings: Fluff, getting together, au, Writer Adachi, Chef Kurosawa.

Word count: 6.2k

A/n: This story was written for the cherry magic mini bang! Thank you @hiwatari-art for inviting me to join! Had a lovely time working with you as always. Thank you to my other artist over on twitter guacagabs. The entire story is being posted right now. Thank you to @schnaf for being a great friend and beta!

Read on ao3

Adachi dragged his feet on the pavement as he made his way home from work. He was already too exhausted to start his writing day with the best mindset but it would have to do. He’d already skipped four days this week and if he didn’t actually sit down to work on his book, it would never be published. He let out a deep sigh and shook his head slightly.

The situation was not ideal by any means, he was not great at cooking and it was already too late to start dinner, but he definitely needed to eat something or his mind would absolutely quit on him, he knew that much.

Adachi knew he should probably get something healthier but he refused to waste even more time walking to the store, so he decided to stop by the food cart near his flat for his usual emergency menu: two tuna onigiris with mayo - along with a can of soda in the hopes that the caffeine would boost his creativity. He was not too happy about it, but he didn’t have much time to contemplate his choice because as soon as he had paid, the first few droplets of water hit his shoulders. Looking up, he felt the next few drops hit his nose and his forehead. He cursed inwardly and simply took off awkwardly running the last few blocks home, trying his best not to slip and fall, his dress shoes nothing but a hazard in this particular situation.

The building door was so close, he could see it through the pouring rain; just a few meters and he would be home. Adachi rushed, his hand extended already to grab at the door handle when his body collided with something - someone - and fell backwards. It was as if time had slowed down; he could see the face of the person he ran into frozen in shock, his eyes widening as he saw Adachi falling, while Adachi could only think about the pain this would cause him, physical, yes, but mostly emotional. He always managed to get himself in embarrassing situations and now -

His neighbour extended his hand just in time to catch Adachi’s and pulled him upright effortlessly, his expression switching from shock to a relieved smile. “Are you ok? I’m so sorry, I hadn’t seen you.”

“Thank you! I’m so sorry,” Adachi said, feeling the heat rise to his face, partly because of his clumsiness and partly because his neighbour had not let go of him yet. In fact, Adachi could have sworn that the guy was rubbing his thumb on the back of his hand. He didn’t know what to do, so he tried again. “Uh, sorry. I should’ve been more careful.”

“It’s ok, I’m glad that you didn’t get hurt.” The man seemed to suddenly remember they were standing in the pouring rain and pulled Adachi to the door. “Come, you’ll catch a cold in this weather.”

No matter how hard he thought, Adachi couldn't remember ever catching his name but he had seen this man before in the elevator and in some of the common areas. He seemed to be a bit of a recluse, much like himself.

The man opened the door and finally let go of his hand before ushering him in. “After you, Adachi.”

Adachi’s eyes widened; he didn't know how the man knew his name, but he didn’t mention it. He walked inside and called the elevator, followed closely by his saviour. Once the doors opened, he stepped in and turned around, pressing the button for the fifth floor and finally facing the man. "Thank you, again…" he trailed off.

"Kurosawa. My name is Kurosawa." He pressed the fourth-floor button.

Adachi smiled and bowed to him. "It was nice seeing you, Kurosawa. Have a good night."

The elevator dinged and Kurosawa bowed with a smile before exiting. “Good night, Adachi,” he waved.

Adachi hesitantly waved back as the elevator doors closed. Before he knew it he was one floor up, opening the door to his flat, throwing his work bag on the sofa and taking his wet clothes off with a groan before going to the bathroom.

What a day. Not only had he stayed late to finish on that project Urabe had handed to him but he also made himself look like a fool in front of his very cool neighbour, and to add insult to injury now he needed a hot shower to hopefully avoid catching a cold. He shook his head and hopped under the stream, washing himself thoroughly and letting the hot stream relax his muscles.

Feeling in a bit of a better mood, Adachi got out of the shower, wrapped himself in a towel and went about getting into a comfy set of pyjamas. He finally sat at his desk and opened the white doc of doom, checking the time and cursing as he realized it was 9 pm already. He slouched in his chair, throwing his head back with a groan. This book was going to take a million years at this rate, he really needed to prioritize his schedule, put on some good hours into it each day, especially during the weekend, he needed to -

Adachi’s stomach growled loudly, reminding him that his emergency dinner laid abandoned in its bag. He got up and stomped over to the sofa, unwrapping the onigiris and eating them without so much as a thought before returning to his spot. He promptly sat down to continue with the daily task of staring at the document while he begged his brain to type something - anything - out. But his mind had other plans though, Kurosawa’s face and gentle smile kept popping in his mind. Maybe it was because of the way he moved, how he had kept him from falling with his sharp reflexes, or maybe it was how elegant he looked even when he was soaking wet, how well his suit fitted him. Kurosawa was like some sort of superhero, or… no, he was more like a Prince Charming from an epic battle world. That was a start - it was not the murder mystery he had thought about, but it was definitely a start.

The sound of Adachi’s footsteps worked like a metronome, helping his mind settle into a rhythm. He was starting to see things in more detail: The brave prince paced in his castle, his sword close by his side, the problems his kingdom was facing were almost too much to bear and with his father on the brink of death, it was all on him. A shadow appeared above the citadel - the… the… ‘kingdom x’ was being attacked by a three-headed dragon. How would he fix this and save his people? Had someone sent the dragon or did it act with free will? Did the soon-to-be king have secret magic powers? Maybe they were a secret even to himself!

With renewed energy and excitement, Adachi sat down to work. This new world just wanted to be written, to become a reality, and he was not going to stop it. Aided by the occasional sip of soda and a few “stretching breaks” that were more like actual pacing, he managed to draft four thousand words by 5 am, effectively breaking his 3 thousand word record from just a few months ago. If he could keep up the pace he could finish the book within the next month and send it to Tsuge for editing and review. He sent a quick text to his friend to tell him the good news and got into bed; he would probably regret staying up so late tomorrow, but now he didn’t have it in him to care. Writing was definitely his call - even if he was very close to missing his goal of being a published author by 30.

---

The commute to work was nothing short of hell. The morning started with Adachi missing his usual train and having to take the next one during rush hour - not that he ever managed to avoid rush hour, but he usually took the first train during it so it wasn’t as crazy as later in the morning. This resulted in him having a very unpleasant ride, squeezed half to death between the sea of people, feeling like a canned sardine with a bad case of insomnia. That was the other issue, the previous writing night ended up being a success but even though he’d been exhausted by the time he was done, it had been impossible to fall asleep. Now he was on his way to a long workday with a pounding headache and a sour mood. If given the opportunity, Adachi would’ve chosen to take the day off to sleep and feel refreshed enough by sundown to continue writing.

His job was definitely a necessary evil, but sometimes he couldn’t help but resent it. On the verge of thirty, Adachi spent most of his day at the office, writing his reports, Urabe’s reports, and occasionally picking up the slack of some of his colleagues. There was barely any time for hobbies or relaxing and least of all to be an aspiring writer. To be completely honest, Adachi had started viewing his day job as his second career in the past year. His heart and soul were focused on his new goal, what he really wanted. In the end, if writing didn’t become his main income, it wouldn’t matter, he was passionate enough about it to continue no matter what. After all, living in the fantasy worlds he created was more than enough for him.

Adachi made it to his desk just on time, but running those last few blocks only served to make his mood even sourer. He pulled at the collar of his shirt with a small huff, still thinking about his writing and leaned back in his chair until it touched Urabe’s shoulder, startling him.

He turned around swiftly, blush already rising to his cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Senpai.”

Urabe nodded and waved him off. Then, he cocked his head and looked at Adachi in more detail. “What is going on with you, Adachi? You look tired.”

“I just had trouble sleeping last night, that’s all,” Adachi said with a heavy sigh. He could picture so many things he would rather do than give explanations about his personal life, but he would feel too guilty if he was rude to Urabe when he was only worried about him.

“Hmm, are you sure that’s all?”

“Yes. I’m ok.” He attempted his best smile. “Thank you for asking.”

“Adachi,” Urabe pouted, his brows burrowed into a childish frown, just like every time he would ask Adachi to take on more work, any semblance of concern already gone out the window. “Can you finish this report for tomorrow? The boss is really piling stuff on my shoulders and I already had other plans for today.”

Sometimes Adachi wished he was a bad person, or a bad colleague even, but he couldn’t help taking on the extra work when it was needed, after all, he didn’t have much of a life. He rolled his eyes but nodded. “Yes, of course.”

“Oh, wait. Is your birthday today or tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.”

“And you’re turning 30, right?”

Adachi nodded once again, hoping to end the conversation as soon as possible; he didn’t want to be reminded of the passage of time or how much he hadn’t achieved by now.

Urabe rolled his chair closer and elbowed him. “Aaah, you sly weasel. Do you have a date?”

“Of course not. I’m just looking forward to getting home and sleeping.” That was literally his birthday plan.

Urabe frowned and gave him a quizzical look. “But you have... ‘dated’ before, right?” He winked.

Adachi shook his head slightly and saw the same look many people gave him, a mix of pity and judgement.

“You should ask one of the girls out. I’ve heard Yui is single and she’s very pretty!”

Adachi slowly turned his chair towards the copy machine and saw Yui across the room. She was, in fact, very pretty, but… she didn’t spark anything in him. She looked like a work of art, pleasant to look at, but not for him. “No, I don’t think that would work.”

“Adachi, if you don’t date someone by the time you turn 30, you will turn into a wizard!” He whispered.

“What? That’s ridiculous!”

“It’s true, you’ll see!”

Adachi rolled his eyes and turned back to his desk, finally starting on the reports needed. The sooner he was done with that, the sooner he could return to his writing.

The elevator opened its doors for Adachi and the ding that followed made his muscles relax instantly. Only a few more minutes and he would be up in his flat, taking his shoes off and cooking something quick before sitting down to write. He felt inspired by the beginning of this new story and he wasn’t about to let a bad day at work ruin that for him.

Just as the doors started to close, someone put a bag between them to keep them open. The first thing Adachi saw was a girl with a cute and gentle look, a black wispy fringe framing her face and a sweet smile. She nodded at Adachi and he smiled and nodded back. He wondered if he would ever date a girl like her, if sharing his life with a partner and doing things together would be so different than what he did now. The answer was probably not, since he assumed nobody would be supportive of him working all day and writing all night; if he was honest with himself, he didn’t really have time for a relationship, even if he sometimes yearned for a bit of company - theoretically. Adachi blinked repeatedly, suddenly crashing back into reality when he saw the looming presence of Kurosawa behind her, giving him a weird look he couldn’t quite place as he ushered the girl into the elevator.

Out of sheer awkwardness, Adachi nodded and mumbled a quiet hello at him, looking away as a blush crept onto his cheeks. Was that Kurosawa’s girlfriend? He groaned and let his head fall back against the elevator wall. He’d been caught staring at his neighbour’s girlfriend like a creep. He ventured a sideways glance and realized Kurosawa was still looking at him with a weird expression.

Thankfully, the ride was short and only a minute later, Adachi was home, barely paying any attention to his basic needs as per usual. He made some instant ramen and added a bit of egg to it before eating it mindlessly, daydreaming of his new story and the magic system involved.

Perhaps it was quickly becoming a much more ambitious project than he had anticipated but as long as the writing flowed, everything would be ok. What was supposed to be a long writing session soon turned into an early night after Adachi’s brain decided to shut down mid-sentence, putting him to sleep sitting at his desk, his head hanging down and his spine hunched over.

#cherry magic #cherry magic fic #mine

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taurusart07 · 3 years

Text

The Savior of Fire

Hi guys, this is my first time posting a fic I did for the @grishaversebigbang. I had so much fun making this adventure with mu OCs and I was really happy of working with talented artists who showed the same passion for my characters as I did.

Summary: After many reports of Grisha caravans with newly foundling (children) recruits are being raided by mercenaries or even undercover Druskelle. Grisha soldier Dimitri Alexand rov (OC), gets assigned with the mission of finding these missing children and the ones responsible for their kidnapping.

Materialki: @awtetsuya27 (https://awtetsuya27.tumblr.com/post/661317187569614848/story-the-savior-of-fire-by-taurusart07-link)

@yourpancakefulness (https://yourpancakefulness.tumblr.com/post/661319128844500992/dimitri-wanted-to-leave-something-to-commemorate)

Soon to be on AO3.

For now here’s a link to the finished docs if you want to read now.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1NQDnS1Ul9Y-p6RdNKpEk7G6MMsLMv1p_LBEPwpVPtlM/edit?usp=sharing

Chapter 1:

Even at his worst, being around fire was always a comfort for Dimitri. Knowing he could take control of the situation surrounded by his element calmed his nerves. And even before he discovered he was a Grisha Inferni, he found comfort looking at the flame of a candle or getting lost in the dancing blazes of a fireplace.

When the Grisha examiners arrived at his small farm near Ryevost to find out about his nature, Dimitri was both excited and sad about going to live at the Little palace. For once he was ready to embrace his abilities and serve his country. But also, he felt bad for leaving his mother alone. After the loss of his father she was all he had left. However the Grisha assured him she would be safe if he left. He knew the risks, many enemy spies roamed the lands and could be on the hunt for Grisha at any time.

Time passed, and the Ravkan Civil war had ended with The Drakling’s death. Afterwards the second army was reformed and the Etherealki order was now led by General Soya Nasyalensy. Now there was more activity of Grisha helping through the war, getting along with the Otkazat’sya and the first army made the war effort much easier. But the enemy kept resisting. More missions began to be assigned to small grisha groups, and no one was more enthusiastic about it than Dimitri.

“Why are you so eager to leave the Little Palace to the front lines?” Asked a young Grisha Squaller.

“Because,” Began Dimitri shoving his messy dark curly hair aside. “It’s been too long since I’ve been here. I want to see some action. Something I can prove myself” The squaller looked at him doubtfully, but of course, no one really understood Dimitri.

He walked down the halls of the Little palace, towards the training grounds, where his instructor was waiting for him. For the greater part of his last year, Dimitri hadn’t really done full extense sessions of training, since his incident in the mountains of Petrazoi near Ryevost. On a recon mission. Dimitri had fallen deep into a cave where he was sure there was no way he was gonna get out of there alive, for he heard a fierce snarl come from the darkness of the cave. A wolf happened to land there as well, and at that moment that quiet cave became a battlefield for survival. Dimitri spent quite some time fighting off the wolf. his fire was not strong since his strength was quickly taken away by the constant struggle of keeping the predator’s fangs away from him.

After intense hours fighting off the animal, Dimitri came out triumphant, seriously injured but he had managed to kill the Wolf. And once he did, he found out that this animal was an amplifier. Not like the sacred amplifiers Morozova created, but a natural one. At first, Dimitri wasn’t sure if he should take on its bones to merge with them, but when he wanted to check on it. He had a vision, It was almost as other Grisha with amplifiers described them. Right in front of the dead wolf, Dimitri saw a luminescent copy of the animal, bowing to him, out of respect.

Hours after that, the rescue team arrived, and Dimitri’s injuries had to be taken care of at the little palace, so he requested them to take the dead wolf with him, and told them about its nature. The healers tended his wounds and suggested him rest since the bites of the wolf had been quite deep, some scratches in his torso and back would also take some time to heal properly.

It had been nearly a year since that day, and during that year he felt incompetent by having these bambraces made out of the bones of the wolf, and not be able to push himself once more. But all that has changed now.

“Are you ready to try this Dimitri?” Asked Oleg, an experienced Inferni trainer who began mentoring Dimitri from his first day at the little palace. Dimitri gave a silent nod and thus his teacher began an easy attack on him, something he could fend off. But to Dimitri, this felt too easy. With just a single hand gesture and his fists he managed to effortlessly push the incoming fire away from him. Another burst of flames were thrown at him, and without struggle he managed to dodge and even redirect some of the fire into Oleg. Now it was his turn to attack. His dark, almost coal colored gloves with red embroidery ready, and his mind focusing on trying to use the enhancement of his amplifier. He launched forward and threw a massive explosion of iridescent red and yellow sparks right to Oleg. His teacher managed to evade the attack with an impressive jump and still maintained a regal posture, as he dismissed the fire around him, clearing up the arena.

“It seems you haven't lost any condition. And your technique has improved” Regarded Oleg “I’m quite impressed, your amplifier has indeed enhanced the heat on your fire as well, though you still need to work on precision”

Dimitri Couldn’t expect more. Even though the healers had told him that he needed rest, and very moderate training, the truth was that inside his room there was none of it. He continued on with his training in complete silence and without anyone's knowledge of it. His fires had to be very low in size if he didn’t want to light up the entire little palace. Once again he began to send flames towards his mentor. As he kept on, the enhancement of the amplifier began to settle in with Dimitri’s will.

Oleg started to give him more demanding shots of fire, seeing that Dimitri wasn’t so rusty at all. He sent out a gigantic wave of flames, only to distract him, and get closer to engage in hand in hand combat. Dimitri managed to block some of the attacks as they began to get more and more constant, not giving him time to pack a punch at Oleg, or even stunt him or get him out of his way. His feet almost reached the edge of the arena, when he decided to pull out a trick he invented on his secret sessions. It required minimal movement, but a great deal of concentration. As he kept Blocking Oleg from taking him off the limits of the arena. “You ready to give it a rest boy?” Teased Oleg.

Dimitri began to feel the heat accumulating in his forearms and hands, however he did not feel any pain, unlike Oleg, who was rapidly disengaged once the heat hurt him enough.

“Looks like you learned some tricks on your own” Said Oleg, surprised.

“It wasn’t so hard, and as you can see it doesn’t require much mobility” Explained Dimitri, worried he would get in trouble for not following strict instructions from the Healers.

“Regardless,” Added Oleg, taking off his gloves, and shoving away the sweat on his slightly wrinkles forehead, “You should've at least told someone, in case anything happened” He dismissed Dimitri, and let him join his fellow comrades, who were impressed by the skill he showed at the arena, and was asked to show them how to do that trick.

“It’s not gonna be that useful, don’t you think?” Said one of the older Inferni. “We barely get into hand to hand fighting. Most Druskelle I’ve encountered had been reduced to ashes before getting near me” He bragged. Dimitri did not take his opinion at all, since he was always told by Oleg to always expect the worst of a situation and no to rely always on his power. Dimitri left the Training grounds on his own. He mostly didn’t hang out with many of his own, just with Pyotr, another inferni who he grew close to after they both were taken under the mentroy of Oleg. As he reached the halls of the palace. He was first planning on going to his room and getting some rest, cause even though he had not lost his edge, he definitely lost some resistance, however that would not stop him. Going past the library he saw some young durasts studying on some books, furthermore he was about to get to his room, when he got caught by an old familiar voice.

“Dimitri!'' It was his old life time friend Pyotr, he was sporting his typical blue kefta with spiky red embroidery on it. His hair was much larger than he remembered. And his light fair skin was covered with some minor scars obtained at the battlefield. He ran towards his friend and partner in crime, and embraced him with a hug. They hadn't seen each other for almost a year, since most inferni were sent to the front lines along with the Heartrenders and the first army. When Pyotr and the rest got orders to leave, Dimitri was barely tended by the healers after the encounter at the cave.

“It’s been so long my friend,” Said Dimitri “How are things on the Fjerdan front line?” He asked. They constantly received reports every other night, however the casualties were hardly named, and the letters he received from his best friend told so little.

“Well… Pretty intense as you can see'' Answered Pyotr, pointing at his scars on his face “Fortunately they’re not gonna get permanent… But yes, things are tough. The Fjerdans are getting more brutal, even with our strengths combined, both armies are barely resisting” he said.

“Then why are you here?” Asked Dimitri.

“To escort you,”His friend answered.

What? Thought Dimitri . “Where?”

“Just come with me. Trust me.” Said Pyotr, taking Dimitri back to the halls, without giving any more details on where they were going. But he had to trust his lifelong friend, just as he always did.

When Dimitri Finally arrived he was completely out of words. Right inside of a rounded dark room illuminated by bright lights, was the Triumvirate in front of him. Genya Saffin leader of the Corporalki and talented tailor, David Kostyk master fabrikator and head of the Materialki, and lastly the fierce and only Zoya Nasyalensky General of the etherealki. Among them were many more Grisha commanders and lieutenants discussing the war effort.

“Is it Him?” asked General Zoya to Pyotr. Dimitri remembered reading some letters of his friend about how sometimes they were saved by Zoya and her powerful winds and storms she summoned. However he did not expect to have direct contact with her, with any of the triumvirate. Pyotr nodded to her and so Dimitri walked forward trying to not show his excitement and fear by being in the presence of his leaders.

“Dimitri Alexandrov, at your service. Grisha inferni, former member of the seventh regiment.” His answer sounded as if he were reading it outloud in front of a class. Some Grisha in the crowd found his answer funny and some looked doubtful at him. “Former member?” Questioned Zoya.

“I had an incident a year ago,” Explained Dimitri. “Ever since that I’ve been on break. But I’m more than ready to be back in the field, I swear” It was true. The least he wanted was to be back in his room training in complete silence. He wanted to hear the roar of his fires.

“I’m not sending you to the battlefield,” She began. Her deep black hair hanging on her sides and her blue kefta shimmered with the lights. “There have been some events across the country that concern us,” What could she possibly be talking about?. Dimitri just kept his mouth silent and let her explain. “As some of the guards have informed. The caravans of examiners that went to the first near cities have not arrived and It’s been long since they left the palace in order to find new grisha among children” Informed Zoya. “Only a wounded squaller managed to arrive at the palace yesterday. He claims their caravan had been raided by unknown enemies, who took the children captive, and killed our Grisha brothers and sisters.”

Thoughts of his past began to run through Dimitri’s head, Of how they prick his arm to reveal his inferni powers, of his arrival at the little palace, and his first training lessons with Oleg, along with Pyotr. If what Zoya said was true, then children just like he once was, were not only taken away from their families but from their future, as a soldier, and as a Grisha. People like Dimitri were still not seen with the best intentions around the world. The Fjerdans burned Grisha at the stake, while the Shu dedicated extensive experiments on them. Ketterdam wasn’t a good place either, for they were mostly sold out as indentures for the wealthiest merchants. But children offered something more to those countries. The Shu might try to dissect their living bodies to further investigations, and the Fjerdans might even want to try out the dangerous drug, Jurda Perm on them, as for the ketterdam businesses, those children without the dominion of their powers, may just as well be slaves or even delight se the carnal desires of sick old men around that treacherous city.

“As for what our records show, the examiner parties we’ve sent out have been to the south, from Sikursk, Caryeva, Keramzim, Kribirsk, and the west to Os Kervo, and their near villages and farms” Said Zoya, showing everything she explained on a three dimensional map, of all ravka and the north and south borders. It was still not big enough to fill the entire table, as the pieces had connections like a puzzle that Dimitri guessed were pieces of the other countries.

“Just yesterday we sent out a crew towards Ryevost, and another to Balakirev” Said Genya, her soft voice filled the entire room, and it was quite hard for Dimitri to not look at her eyepatch, a symbol of what happened to her at the civil war.

“Which means they should be arriving there by now, and the parties heading north still have to report on arrival” she continued. “We need to find out who are these captors, if they’re druskelle or mercenaries after a high price on Grisha children”

“Will you do that, Dimitri?” Asked Zoya out of nowhere. Dimitri has always expected an assignment, he just didn’t expect it to be of such importance.

“You want me to look for these children?” He asked, the question was pretty dumb of his part, but his mind still hung over the task he had ahead”

“I’ve heard that you kept asking for open assignments the whole year, even with your condition in mind” Said Zoya. “Also a fellow comrade of yours spoke fondly of your determination, and aptitude for this job” She glanced subtly at Pyotr. “You must assemble a team with Grisha in which you can put your whole trust on this job, You are expected to leave tomorrow at dawn” She said finally, heading towards distance, to hand him an archive with the details of his first mission after a very long time.

“I will not let you down, General” Said Dimitri, “I'll find those kids and bring them home” He said as he was Dismissed by Zoya. He began wondering how he could carry such a test on himself, he wondered who he would contact to join him. As he left the room, walking through the halls, Pyotr intercepted him, congratulating him for receiving such an important job. “It won’t be easy” said Pyotr, “You'll definitely need one or two Heartrenders, and possibly another etherealki”

“I know just one who can come with me,'' said Dimitri, looking at his friend while they kept walking.

“Who?” wondered Pyotr naively.

“You, idiot,” Replied Dimitri, laughing. Of course he would need his best friend in this, He always reminded Dimitri of what he was capable of and more. “You really thought I would do this without you?”

They kept planning who else to bring, Dimitri didn’t want a whole group as that might draw attention when they needed it less. He definitely agreed with Pyotr, they would need at least a heartrender, And dimitri knew who was fit for this Job.

“You’re insane” Said Pyotr, “Raol Ralevsky is the most hated Grisha among his class”

“And that attitude of his and his incredible skill is what we need” Explained Dimitri. He was his first immediate choice. Besides, Dimitri knew he wasn’t that awful, as Raol once helped Dimitri to control his amplifier, for he also had one within his neck, a massive claw of a Tiger he once hunted.

“I heard he once took about six Druskelle on his own, completely destroyed their bodies, that man shows no mercy”

“Once again proving my point, we don’t know if these captors are Fjerdans or not, or how many are there when they attack the caravans. Just trust me on this, we need to get Raol, I need you to let him know, just tell him Dimitri is asking him for this”

“You're gonna tell me that now you’re friends with him?” Asked Pyotr, appalled “More of an ally at the palace” Replied Dimitri, as he left his friend to be alone in his room.

Inside of the grand place he had for his own, he took off his blue kefta, and hung it on a chair near his wardrobe. The room curtains were completely blocking the last hours of light the sun had left. He took off an ointment from the drawer at his bed. with the small red bottle in hand Dimitri walked to the next room at his dorm, where he mostly trained and where a silver bathtub was waiting for him with warm water. He placed the bottle on a small table near a full body mirror. The ointment was a tonic given to him by the healers to help the deepest wounds heal up, but it didn’t seem to do any effect. However he continued on hoping it would work one day.

He took off his white shirt that was covered by the kefta. revealing his scarred light brown skin, reminiscent of his mother who came from Novyi Zem. His leaned but chiseled torso still hadn’t lost the massive scar that crossed from all over his chest to his belly. Dimitri poured some of the ointment on his right hand and slowly began to rub it across the scar. He then turned around and using the mirror he began to apply more of it across the few scars left on his back. After a couple minutes, the ointment dried off and Dimitri striped of the rest of his clothes to enter the bathtub, and for once, in the heat of the water, the smallest pain that was attached to him the whole day vanished.

He knew that he would not receive any of these glimpses of pain relief for the next days or weeks during his mission, but he preferred being outside, in the heat of the action and in the heat of a royal bath.

#gvbb21 #gvbbfic21 #the savior of fire #grishaverse oc #inferni #grishverse

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khadij-al-kubra · 4 years

Text

Worst Impressions are the First (ch 7)

Main Characters: Logan, Patton, Roman, Virgil (Human AU)

Pairings: Romantic LAMP

Word Count: 5036

AO3

<=PREV

NEXT=>

Author’s (longer than usual but it’s for good reason) Note: *The Apocalypse—2020. Zoom in on a plague rat turned writer. She has survived thesis projects, getting a Master’s degree, burnout, writing and illustrating a children’s book, being a slave for the U.S. census bureau, months of overthinking anxiety spirals, and one or two incidents involving an asshole skunk. But now, battle weary yet unwavering in her love of art and love for her loyal readers, this onesie-clad tea slurping book dragon....has finally arisen from the ashes*

I LIVE BITCHES!!!!!!! And I am SO SORRY for taking so long!!! I’ve been hard at work, been editing like a mad woman, and I even have a beta now! The gorgeous and talented @humbletortoise So I am OFFICIALLY off hiatus!!! *cue confetti canon*

Also, one of the biggest reasons I’ve taken so long to update is because I’ve spent the past month or so essentially retconning the fuck outta this fic. I realized looking back at earlier chapters in this story that, although I was proud of them at the time and greatly appreciate the positive reactions, they were...not my best work. (shitty first drafts if I’m being honest) That’s because, at the time, I was trying to split my attention between writing this fic and working on grad school stuff, which resulted in my writing for this not being as best of quality as it could have been upon first posting. This story deserves my best, and so do all of you. So now I hope to give you that.

I encourage you to go back and re-read the previous chapters up till now (trust me, they’re near unrecognizable to the first drafts, but in the best way). Or if you don’t feel like doing that, you can just continue on from here. totally cool. For the sake of convenience and my own sanity, I’ll attach the AO3 Link to this fic from the start. I may also start just posting chapter updates on tumblr but only have the link to the chapter and add my reader tags. Again, for the sake of my sanity because Tumblr is a bastard when it comes to posting fics. (Also PLEASE let me know if there are any tagging issues if anyone’s on my tags list; yet another reason i’m considering just linking my fics in the future)

Anywho, without further ado, at LOOOOOONG last, here is the next chapter!

Chapter 7 - (POV Roman)

When Roman had offered to walk with Logan to class, it was only partly out of an innate sense of chivalry; a side of himself that he rarely got to show on account of being a socially awkward gay disaster. Though mainly, he saw it as a chance to get to know his second soulmate better.

He certainly hadn’t expected two long minutes of civil but silent walking. Well, as silent as a stroll through their school could be with its usual racket buzzing around them. With a vocabulary as big as the continents of Africa and Eurasia combined, you’d think Logan would be more of a conversationalist. Alas. He merely walked in step with Roman. They glanced over at each other every so often, but Logan stayed tight lipped and seemingly impassive; fiddling with his bumblebee hair pin every now and again. Damn. Looked like he was going to have to make the first move.

Roman was bad at this. How did people usually…Oh yeah, common interest. That’s a thing. He wracked his brain for some sort of ice breaker. One that’d make him look cool and calm or, something, in front of Logan. He was a fairly decent student though not quite mathletes level. He could compliment his outfit maybe? Was that too forward? Too shallow? Maybe he could find common ground? That was as good a place to start as any.

“So! So uhh…What kind of music do you like?” Roman asked. Yeah, that’s good. Everybody likes music.

Logan glanced at him. “Can you be more specific?”

Roman’s brow furrowed. “I mean, like, your favorite genre of music to listen to?”

“Classical,” said Logan in a clipped tone.

“That’s cool. I don’t really listen to classical myself.”

Logan only hummed, his face neutral. Roman was really hoping for more than that. A few awkward seconds passed, then Logan spoke up.

“Are you perhaps a fan of the classic Sherlock Holmes novels?” He inquired.

“Um, I haven’t gotten around to the books yet, actually,” Roman said, scratching his earlobe. “I mean, I’ve heard great things about them. And I’m a big fan of the Robert Downey Jr. movies.”

“Ah. I see.” Logan said, giving him the judgiest side eye.

Come on, Roman thought. Give me something to work with. “Oh! What about theater?”

“What a frustratingly vague inquiry.”

“Well, excuse me for trying to get to know my soulmate a little better.” Ay come jode, work with me here, man!

Logan sighed. “While I understand and appreciate your intention, I believe ‘getting to know someone’ as you put it, requires a certain level of specificity. Anything less indicates a somewhat shallow level of sincere interest, and I greatly despise shallow conversation. That said, if you’re inquiring as to whether or not I enjoy theater, no. I don’t understand the concept of professional make believe, though I appreciate it as an art form. I assume you’re a fan?”

Is he seriously implying I’m shallow? Roman groused, pushing his red frames up the bridge of his nose. Ugh, forget it Roman. He’s throwing you a bone here. Take it.

“Obviously,” said Roman, gesturing dramatically. “I mean I’m no actor—Eesh. No. Yikes—but everything about the artform enthralls me. And I like all kinds of genres and eras of plays, from Shakespear to Ruhl, but musicals are by far my favorite, because like, there’s so much you can do with them design wise. I mean just look at how groundbreaking Hamilton was.”

For a second, Logan’s face actually softened, his eyes lighting up. But just as Roman thought they were finally about to make some progress, his stony companion was back to wearing that platinum puss.

“Ah. How… original.”

Roman blinked. “Are you saying my tastes are basic?”

“Well, yes.”

Augh! Okay. Yep. I don’t like him. Patton was going to be so disappointed, and Roman was too. He’d wanted so badly to get along with all his soulmates, but Logan was a snob! Way less intimidating than Virgil and his ilk, but still a jerk. I wonder if soulmarks can make typos or something? Thank the stars they’d already arrived.

Roman and Logan filed in with the rest of the class for seventh period. Somebody had the liberty of opening a window– the AC was still busted in this classroom– so for once there was actually a decent breeze cutting through the usual mucky Florida humidity. Still smelled like it would probably rain later. Good thing Roman had packed an umbrella just in case, Mom’s orders. His hair looked too good today to be wrecked by frizz.

Roman took a seat at his desk, running distracted fingers over the carved letters in the wood while he mulled over his predicament. Just look at him over there, thought Roman as he glared at Logan, not two rows away from him. Sitting with his hands clasped on the desk all smug—of course he’d be near the front—and with such disturbingly good posture. What is he, a robot? Who is he to call my interests basic, the NERVE! And okay, sure, like Hamilton, sometimes I get over excited and shoot off at the mouth. But great Zeus, does that guy show passion for ANYTHING besides academics? Roman blew a raspberry, plopping his head in his hands.

He always thought soulmates were supposed to get along, even as just friends for life. Balancing each other out, bringing out the best in you and forming a deep connection—that was the whole point. He sighed to himself. Cymbals clashed less than he and Logan did.

He was stirred from his brooding by the bell. Apparently Mr. ‘Call-me-Terrence’ Williams had materialized without him noticing. Okay fine, he should probably pay more attention, but he was having a crisis here.

“Afternoon everyone,” Terrence greeted in that measured, upbeat tone of his.

He draped his navy blue blazer over the back of his desk chair and rolled his shirt sleeves to the elbows. Roman pitied the poor guy; he had to teach sauna of a classroom all day. He could see the glisten of sweat on his teacher's smooth forehead as he wrote things on the board. Yet he still kept a pleasant attitude towards his students.

“Alright class!” Terrence started, “Today we’re covering the next section on the American Revolution. Specifically, the Battle of Yorktown...”

Roman mentally punched the air. My time has come. He opened his textbook to the right page but didn’t bother looking at it. He already knew most everything about Yorktown. Not just because he’d listened to the Hamilton soundtrack fifteen and a half million times, but also because he’d done actual research on the event and time period that the musical took place; There was always the off chance he’d get to stage crew or, heck, even dramaturg the show. He liked to be prepared.

“So the battle of Yorktown took place in 1781, but a great deal of its success was thanks to the French Allies. Many especially aided in fighting the British Troops surrounding New York. Now who can tell me where the French Soldiers first landed?”

Roman half raised his hand. He was pretty sure he knew the answer.

“Logan.” Terrence called.

Roman turned to Logan desk, where his hand was held high and mighty.

“The French Ally ships first landed in Rhode Island, then made their way to Chesapeake Bay,” said Logan, adjusting his glasses. Not even a hint of second guessing in his voice.

“That’s right!”

He almost missed the quick smirk on Logan’s frustratingly pretty face. Look at that smug—thinks he’s so smart...Okay yes, he is smart, but he doesn’t have to be a show off about it. Terrence continued through the passages, calling on a student every now and again to review. Of course, Logan got called on most and he got every answer right. Roman didn’t feel like raising his hand anymore.

“Of course there were many turning points in the revolution, but Hamilton’s return to the field for Yorktown was a key point.” Terrence continued on. “And keep in mind- this was a man who up till now had never been in a position of command before. Not to mention the mental strains he must’ve been under, especially having had to miss the birth of his son Philip, the first of three children he had.”

Wait a sec. “Well, that’s not right.”

Even though he’d muttered, apparently Mr. Terrence still heard him. “Come again, Roman?”

Shoot. “Um, I said,” Stop sounding timid, you know you’re right. “I said that was, um, wrong.”

The whole class turned to him. Oh great, history class has its eyes on me. Roman cleared his throat and tried to look taller.

“What I mean is: Hamilton had eight kids, not three. And on top of that, Phillip was born a few months after they won the Revolution, not during, so Hamilton didn’t miss the birth of his son. I mean sure, it’s a small thing, but the devil’s in the details as they say. Heh.”

Terrence gave the most insultingly bemused look. And Roman definitely heard a few kids snickering behind him. He glanced quickly at the culprits and felt his ears go hot. This is what he got for putting himself in the spotlight.

“Roman, I applaud you for participating in the class discussion,” Their teacher started gently, “but I’m afraid you’re wrong on this one. If you read your textbook close you’d see in the fifth paragraph where it mentions from one of his later letters—“

“Actually Mr. Williams, if I may, Roman is correct.”

Roman saw Logan at his desk, one hand raised while the other adjusted his neck scarf. Was the teacher’s pet actually… backing him up?

“It is a common misconception that Alexander Hamilton only had two children, even more so modernly, what with the musical having only named two of them. However Roman has clearly done his research on the plays historical accuracies, which is more than I can say for some.”

Logan shot a cool but scathing look at their recently snickering classmates and they withered. Roman fought the urge to point and laugh aloud. He did however stick his tongue out real quick. What? He could be shy and petty at the same time.

“My guess,” Logan continued, “is that this textbook edition is also either misprinted or outdated, judging by the publication date in the copyright section.”

Brows furrowed, Terrence looked at the textbook laid open on his desk. He flipped back to the front, before pulling out his cellphone—“I’m the teacher, I’m allowed to do this. You guys aren’t.”—and after what Roman guessed was a quick Google search, their teacher looked up. His eyebrows drawn in a ‘hm, well damn’ expression.

“Looks like you’re right, Roman. And thank you Logan for bringing to my attention about the textbooks. I’ll have to talk to the principal about hopefully getting some updated materials. But we’ll see how that goes,” Terrence, muttered the last part, though Roman was close enough to catch it. Terrence cleared his throat and moved back to the board. “Maybe if we call on assistance from the inside. Much like how the Sons of Liberty sent in Hercules Mulligan to spy on the British...”

“Perhaps if we knew of an immigrant who was unafraid to step in,” Logan said just under his breath.

No one else seemed to notice the reference, but when Roman did, he felt like a mini volcano about to burst rainbow lava. Apparently there was a lot more to his soulmate than first meets the eye; and now that he knew, Roman was determined to see more of it. The rest of class passed quickly and everyone filed out to the halls as the first bell for the last class period of the day rang. Roman made sure to catch up to Logan on the way out and staccato tapped him on the shoulder.

“Hey, Logan?” He said.

When Logan turned, he swore time slowed down for a moment. The brilliant boy’s skirt flared around his waist, and somehow his skin glowed even under the dull, inconsistent school lights. His posture was erect yet natural, he could have been raised among nobility. Amidst the stench and clamor of loud sweaty students, Logan was as poised and striking as the goddess Athena. Oh...

“Yes, Roman?” Logan asked.

Roman gulped. “I uh, just wanted to thank you for backing me up in there.”

“Thanks are unnecessary,” Logan said. “I detest when someone is shamed by other students for speaking up in class, regardless of whether or not they have the correct information.”

“Well regardless, thanks for coming to my aid in the face of academic danger.”

“Dramatic, but my pleas—oof!”

A hurried passerby bumped into Logan from behind, rushing off with a half-assed ‘sorry’. Logan, caught off guard, stumbled right into Roman’s arms. The two looked at each other, cheeks filling with heat. Roman caught a whiff of something faintly floral on Logan, something natural– a lavender and honeysuckle perfume, perhaps. It was heavenly. They were still in the middle of foot traffic though, so he maneuvered them to the side. Which was tricky since Logan was still so close to him and also a good two inches taller with the heels.

“Well,” Roman flashed his pearly whites. “Seems you’ve fallen for me.”

Logan pulled away, but his lips quirked upwards in a teasing smirk. “Oh please, I merely stumbled into you.”

“Ah, but stumbling is the first step towards being swept off your feet.”

“Bold words from an abashedly charming homunculus in such an… eye catching ensemble.”

Did he call me charming!? He composed himself, “Hey, don’t let the sweater vest fool you. I may be short but I’ve got guns.”

“Aaah. But mind over muscle, as they say. Do you find yourself up to the task?”

“Only if it’s you, my brainy blossom.”

Roman’s class was in the other direction, but Logan didn’t need to know that. They walked through the halls, conversing. class was still in the next ten or so minutes, but Roman was having fun. Banter with Logan felt surprisingly easy. Natural like they’d been at it all their lives.

“By the way, was that a ‘Guns n’ Ships’ reference I overheard, pastel poindexter?” Roman asked.

Logan cleared his throat. “It… may have been, yes. I found myself unable to resist toppling the figurative dominos.”

“In other words, you seized the opportunity you saw,” Roman said, matching his own reference to the source’s cadence, which got a chuckle out of Logan.

“Precisely. Under more casual circumstances, I may have even recited Lafayette’s part.”

“You can rap? You can rap Guns n’ Ships? Like, the whole thing, no tongue twists?”

Logan stopped for a moment, turned to Roman. The taller boy cleared his throat, and after a moment wherein he seemed to mentally restrain himself, he simply adjusted his glasses. “I have an appreciation for poetry.”

Roman blinked rapidly. Holy shit, he’s an even bigger nerd than I am. He definitely needed to see that at some point.

They turned a corner, stopping just outside of the science room. Some students were going in to take their seats, and the teacher was already making notes on the board. Logan pulled an AP Physics book from his backpack, but made no move to leave, much to Roman’s delight.

“So then,” Roman leaned against the eggshell wall, “How come you acted so indifferent earlier and called my tastes basic? Oh, and I think I remember you also implied I was shallow?”

Okay, yeah, he was still kind of salty about that. But then he saw the shamed look on the nerd’s face, and Roman wished he could have taken it back. Logan looked at his shoes then back at him.

“To be candid I was… hesitant to show the full extent of my enthusiasm. In case you thought I’d be—I believe ‘being the most’ is the term— it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve caused someone to lose interest in conversing with me due to informational overload. I nearly bored my Aunt Patricia to sleep once talking about a fascinating article on jellyfish. And considering how I blundered our initial meeting—“

“Pfft, ya think?” He mentally slapped himself again when Logan went tight-lipped and turned to go. “No, no, wait. I—I’m sorry. Truly. ...Truth is, I was no gentleman either. I’m not always great at thinking before I speak. It’s why I’m so awkward around people. Takes a while for my true charming nature to shine through.”

“Clearly. Still, you show a level of interpersonal aptitude that I, well, lack.” Logan fiddled with his hair pin again and a stray hair came loose. “Reading people and expressing emotions has never really been—It’s something I struggle with.”

Much as Logan tried to maintain his cool composed posturing, Roman could tell that this was something that really bothered him. He tried so hard to seem put together and confident and serious, but really he was just as awkward and insecure as anyone. Roman smiled softly and stepped closer to Logan, reaching up to tuck the loose ebony strand behind his ear.

“Hey, everyone’s got things about themselves they can work on. Including me,” Roman smiled. “And believe me when I say that I will never judge you for being passionate about something you like. So if you ever want someone to ramble about jellyfish or Sweeney Todd to or—I dunno, calculators or something?—I’m all ears.”

Logan’s cheeks went pink and he gave a hesitant yet sincere smile. “That’s...very kind of you, Roman. And coincidentally, I also greatly enjoy Sweeney Todd. The use of iambic pentameter and alliteration to give a succinct synopsis to the story in just the first sentence alone is pure brilliance.”

“Right!? I mean the man’s a mad genius. I’m dying to design sets for one of his musicals someday. Like last year? I came up with the concept of having the Sweeney Todd sets done in a way that highlights the class differences with the characters.” Roman went into a small three minute ramble regarding the specifics before he cut himself off abruptly. Logan was blinking rapidly, a look of mild shock crossing his feature. Roman nearly started sweating; Had he messed this up again?

“That… that’s ingenious”

Roman’s ears were burning. Ohmygosh!Ohmygosh!Ohmygosh!

“Hey, Logan!” They both startled and turned to an impatient cheerleader with a ginger undercut and they/them pronoun pin shaped like a coffin. “What’re you doing just standing out in the hall, ya dork? Oh, hey Roman.”

“Uh. Hey, October,” Roman said, waving awkwardly to them.

“I told ya, Red, you only get to call me that when we’re working on a show.”

“Wait, October? Red? You two know each other?” Logan asked, brow arching.

“Kind of. They sometimes help out with costumes for the drama club,” said Roman. And they have terrible timing. I mean seriously Tobes, we were having a moment.

“Come on Lo, class is about to start, and you promised to go over my homework with me real quick beforehand. See ya ‘round, Ro.” Toby grabbed Logan’s hand and pulled him into the classroom. “You can fill me in on what you were doing with Red later.”

Logan followed his—apparently—friend into their classroom, but he shot Roman an apologetic look over his shoulder. Roman bounced a bit on the balls of his feet before following halfway into the room. Logan was in his seat with Toby showing him an open notebook. A teacher in a tight grey hair bun was writing on the board. Students at their seats were chatting, and some looked up at the short dork in red who burst in. For once Roman ignored them, his mind set on one last attempt at wooing his green skirted genius while he still had the nerve.

“Hey, Logan,” he said. “I’ve also got some great layout designs for an Into the Woods set. If you’re interested, maybe we can meet up after school and I can show them to you? Maybe we talk a bit more over iced lattes or something?”

“Excuse me, Mr. Prince, seventh period starts in five minutes,” said the teacher. “Unless you’ve suddenly transferred to my class, I suggest you stop distracting my favorite student and get going.”

“I’ll be gone in just a second,” he said. “Well?”

Logan smoothed the silky fabric of his pink scarf and said, “That sounds optimal, Roman. I’ll meet with you. By the first floor water fountain perhaps?”

Roman grinned. “I shall be counting the minutes.”

“Mr. Prince,” said the teacher with a warning glare.

Roman blew a kiss at Logan and then ducked out of the doorway. Was he embarrassed of himself? Oh definitely. Did he regret it? Absolutely not. He felt ten inches tall.

Now to complete the quest of making it to class in time. He slid off a shoulder strap to unzip his classic Mickey backpack, getting out the notebook and the relevant homework. He found them amidst the mess of spiral notebooks, granola bar wrappers, two textbooks and rainbow sticky notes. But something was missing from his folder.

“Where are those– it should be here.” He could’ve sworn he had his stapled the blocking notes in his folder. No, wait, the last place he saw them was— “Ah shoot! I left them in the tech closet again.”

Under normal circumstances, Roman would’ve grabbed them after school, but the auditorium was locked on weekends. He’d have to wait till Monday to get them and that just wouldn't do! he wanted to show Logan his notes today! I’ll bet David Korins never has these kinds of problems. Okay, okay. Still got four minutes. He could rush to the auditorium, grab the notes, and then head straight to class. I should have enough time, right? Right. Besides it was only Spanish Class, he was already pretty fluent after all those summers visiting his grandparent in Nicaragua. He spent most of class time dreaming up blocking notes anyway.

Despite not being totally convinced by his own argument, Roman immediately turned on his heel and started running in the opposite direction. After a teacher told him no running in the halls, Roman power walked through the halls with a skip in his step and a song in his heart, feeling absolutely gay in both senses of the word. Logan had actually called his idea ingenious! And the way those sharp eyes softened just for him- he would squeal if not for the fact that it would draw too many eyes to him. The halls were still filled with a few stragglers rushing to the last class of the day, and he was already trying not to get caught being late for class.

Now he knew how Maria felt in West Side Story. Y’know, before Act 2. Oh sure, they’d gotten off to a shaky start, but as the Bard’s adage on the course of true love said; and Roman felt it in his gut that this was certainly the start of true love. Not just with brilliant Logan but also with soulful Patton as well. He didn’t know how an awkward geek like him ever got so lucky in the soulmate department…Then again, there was still the matter of Virgil. So maybe not so lucky.

Roman touched his arm, remembered flustered yet flattering purple words. I know they both said Virgil is secretly sweet and I can sympathize with the terrors of closet town, but COME ON! Virgil? Really? That gloomy gladiator? There had to be a mistake in that. After all, Patton liked to see the good in everyone. Logan was much more of a skeptic, but he does seem to have a blind spot with sarcasm. Maybe Virgil was messing with them somehow. Even if he’s not a jerk jock, the guy’s still kind of a creepazoid; with his dark eyes and cheeta-esq gait and those probably huge muscles hidden under that bulky jacket and big hands...

His gay disaster train of thought came to a merciful halt as he reached the auditorium. Roman pushed open the doors, took a pause to breathe in the quiet comfort of this chapel of the arts. Okay yeah, chapel was maybe a little kind for the school’s auditorium which doubled as the drama Club’s rehearsal space/prop closet backstage/Mx Joan’s unofficial office because the school didn’t fund the arts programs enough. Even so this space was Roman’s sanctuary. The place where he could help create magic from the shadows, bring stories of those gone and living to life. Here, Roman found something of a community with his fellow backstagers, glee club losers, and budding thespians (the nice ones). So he loved every squeaky stage plank, every duck taped seat cushion and every speck of dust that floated in the spot lit air like fairies.

Mx. Joan wasn’t around for once, thankfully. Probably in the teacher’s lounge or rendezvousing with the school nurse or something. They were pretty chill and Roman knew he was their favorite student, but the choir director/drama club moderator/music teacher (this school really needs to fix its funding habits) wouldn’t have been too keen on Roman being deliberately late for class.

Roman walked down the aisle and to the side room by the stage. It was originally a janitor’s closet, but their club moderator transformed it into a ‘Crew Only’ Storage Unit… Okay it was still a closet, but with less bleach and more coils. This was where they kept important equipment for semester shows, like the lighting and sound boards, along with other supplies. Roman made a quick mental note to get more gaffer tape later, seeing their supply was low.

He looked through the small pile of scribbled and highlighted sheets with the lighting cues for the spring show. I’ve really gotta get a binder for these…Ah-Ha! Here you are! Roman pulled out the stapled sheets titled ‘Into the Woods Dream Set’ and carefully shoved them into his bag. Perfect timing too. He might just be able to make it to class after—

RIIIIIIIIIIING

“GAH!”

What the heck? He could’ve sworn he was alone in there, but that yelp just now said otherwise. Up close, Roman saw that the curtains were rustling, accompanied by sounds of heavy breathing and moaning, yet not a footstep to be seen or heard.

Holy SHIT, this place IS haunted! I KNEW that backdrop fiasco last semester wasn’t caused by cheap slit plywood. My supplies are the best quality allowance money can buy. Great Macbeth’s bloody knife, I TOLD Kai we should've sprung for a ghost light! Remus always teased him for being superstitious but look who’s laughing now.

He dashed back into the crew closet and grabbed the heavy push broom leaning in the corner. Roman Prince was NOT about to be caught unawares and possessed by the ghost of a disgruntled student without a fight. He would defend his domain of imagination!

Roman slowly climbed the stage steps, wielding his broom like a bow staff, turned the curtain corner where the noises were coming from and was about to release a war cry on the—

“Virgil?”

Roman nearly dropped his weapon at the sight of Virgil Alighieri—star athlete, object of his fears and supposed soulmate—curled in on himself trembling and crying.

His jacket was pulled over his head like a hood, yet Roman could see the tear stained face peeking out from underneath. Virgil’s eyes were squeezed tight, making the dark circles he’d never noticed before more prominent. There was no denying the athlete had muscle but he was more lithe—thin enough for Roman to wonder if the guy ate enough. Virgil’s trembling could rival a chihuahua, shaky hands clutching his knees, and he was clearly in the midst of a bad panic attack.

Roman had built Virgil up in his mind as being like some odd combination of Hades and Ares. The strong silent wolf within his pack of jocks, a surging thunderstorm just waiting for the right nerd to come along and piss him off enough to strike down like the bolt of Zeus.

Someone to be afraid of.

But now? Seeing him in this state, all alone and whimpering like a wounded animal...it broke Roman’s heart.

He set the broom down gently and carefully crouched down in front of Virgil. “Virgil,” he said softly. “Virgil, can you hear me?”

Virgil let out a breathy sob but otherwise didn’t seem to register him. Just how long had he been sitting here like this?

Roman was at a loss for what to do. Sure he knew plenty of people with anxiety but never saw someone having an actual panic attack before. He did know that if he didn’t help the other calm down soon, Virgil was liable to pass out. He’d never wanted to hug someone so badly in his life. Roman tentatively reached out a hand but stopped. What if touching him makes it worse? What if I startle him so badly he actually has a heart attack!? Maybe I should get the nurse. But I can’t just leave him like this.

He caught sight of the colorful soulmarks written on Virgil’s arm. Saw his own harsh thoughts: ’Dios mio, he’s staring right at me—like he wants to punch my face!’

Roman took his shame and forged it into steel. I won’t abandon you...my soulmate.

Virgirl’s let out a hiccuped cry, and this gave Roman an idea. Something from back when he was a child. It was probably stupid and a long stretch, but it was all he could think of. He readjusted himself so that he was now sitting right next to Virgil, making sure not to startle him. Roman cleared his throat, then as softly as he could, he began to sing.

“Come stop your crying, it’ll be alright.

Just take my hand, hold it tight.”

Roman one and carefully gentled his hand over Virgil’s. After a moment, he felt a light squeeze, and that encouraged him to keep going.

“I will protect you from all around you.

I will be here, don’t you cry…”

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