#your neighbors are disappearing and every last bit of land is being taken by the United fruit company

[jelly-o630]

Everything I learn about my grandpa just reinforces the fact that my dad did a GREAT job

[yaimlight]

First Time For Everything

Rating: 18+

Pairing: Todoroki Shoto x fem!reader

Summary: Shoto gets fucked and its exactly what he had hoped it would be. 

Tags: pegging, slight sub vibes for Shoto, explicit sex 

Shoto stood staring at the door in front of him, hand hovering ready to knock but he couldn’t get it to move any further. It had taken him longer to get here than it should have, his nerves finally getting the better of him and causing him to drag his feet. He had woken up this morning pulse thumping and covered in a cold sweat, the last foggy strands of his dream clinging to his sleep heavy mind. More like a nightmare actually, the faint images of everything that could go wrong tonight haunting him. He had come close to calling it off several times throughout the day but he had talked himself out of it every time he went to pick up the phone. His nerves had carried over into his dinner with Izuku and Uraraka. He hadn’t been that good of company tonight and his two friends had noticed but Shoto had played it off as work stress and lack of time for personal relationships. They had seemed to buy it, telling him he needed to take better care of himself and they would always be there for him if he needed something. It had hurt to lie to his friends but it was a necessity. He should probably be worried how easy lying was for him now but he supposed it would come in handy when trying to bluff a villain. Groaning Shoto took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders and holding his head high. He could do this. He had started down villain’s intent on killing him and put himself in life threatening situations on a daily basis, getting his girlfriend to fuck him was nowhere near as dangerous. With one last deep breath he knocked on the door, two quick and sure taps that seemed to echo around the hall.

The door of the next apartment along creaked open and Shoto turned with a frown, watching as a messy tuff of black hair poked out, brown eyes watching him intently. The door in front of him swung open and Shoto’s head shot back round to look at the women before him. She stood in the doorway, one hand holding the door and the other curled around the doorframe. She had on an oversized black T-shirt with a white skull print on and a pair of black shorts that just peaked out from under the hem of the top. She was smiling widely up at him eyes sparkling and Shoto wanted to drown in them. “Hey you” she said fondly and all he could do was mumble back a strained ‘hello’. Laughing gently she stepped to the side, motioning him to come in. He took a few tentative steps inside, hearing her close the door behind him. “Your creepy neighbor was watching me” he said in his usual monotone voice as he undid his jacket, pulling his hat off his head and tugging his scarf from around his neck. She stepped around him, taking his jacket from him as he shrugged it off, along with his other items before disappearing behind him again. “Probably because the last person who knocked on my door screamed so loud the police were almost called” she yelled, her voice slightly muffled and Shoto could only assume she was still in the closet, putting his things away. He hummed his understanding as he toed his sneakers off. He didn’t think that was it, not all of it any way. The guy was a creep and a bit of a stalker and Shoto knew he was probably just keeping track of who was coming and going. “Drink?” she asked as she appeared once more and Shoto nodded. He would probably need it if he was going to get through tonight without hyperventilating. She grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers together and tugged him through the apartment. He let his eyes dart around the space, taking in the open planned room. She had called it a studio apartment but Shoto didn’t really understand what the meant. It was one large room, the walls painted a bright white and the floors a dark hardwood. The bedroom area was on the right, her bed set in the middle and pushed against the wall. In the middle of the room was her living area with a two person sofa with a coffee table in front. There were two matching armchairs at either end of the table and a TV in the other side. On the left was a kitchen, the worktops in the same dark wood as the floor. The wall opposite was completely glass and looked out over the neon light city. There wasn’t much decoration in the space, just a few photos scattered around, some of him, some of the two of them together and a few of her with people Shoto had never meet. It was all very subtle and tasteful and surprisingly cozy.  Once in the kitchen she sat Shoto down on one of the high stalls. She grabbed two tumblers from the cupboard, placing the decorated glasses in front of him before spinning on her heals to dig through her freezer, pulling a chilled bottle of vodka from within. She brought two large chunks of ice with her, dropping one into each class before pouring the vodka in. Shoto took the glass she offered him wordlessly, staring at the clear liquid for a moment before bring the glass to his lips and knocking back its contents. He coughed and spluttered as the alcohol hit the back of this throat, slamming the glass back down on the counter and wincing at the taste. She was smirking at him as she sipped at her own drink, watching him out the corner of her eyes and clearly amused by his reaction.  Wordlessly she poured him another shot but this time he sipped at it carefully. He watched her as the silence stretched on between them, making him want to squirm as it amplified his nerves. He blurted out the first thing that came to mind, desperate to fill the silence but unknowing what to say.  Shoto sighed, shoving a hand through his hair and asked the one thing he had been worrying about. “Are you sure this is going to work?” his voice came out not much more than a whisper as he looked down at his drink. He wasn’t sure if he was asking about the act its self or if their relationship would be the same afterwards. he knew he was being paranoid but he was asking a lot of her and though she had seemed into it the niggling feeling that she was only doing it for him kept persisting. Delicate hands wrapped around his and Shoto looked up to find her smiling at him reassuringly. “It’s going to be fine. Trust me” she asked and Shoto nodded, offering her a small smile back. She gently tugging him from his seat, stepping round the counter to be closer to him. “Did you do everything I told you to?” Her voice was serious now as she spoke, her gaze fixed on him as she waited for his answer. Shoto blushed, remembering very clearly the short list she had sent him that morning. It had been a strange morning but he had done what she had asked of him. Not trusting his words Shoto nodded, his eyes darting away from hers to look at their joint hands instead. “Good boy” Shoto’s head jerked up at those words, a small thrum of pleasure shooting down his spine. He didn’t know if it was the words or just the praise in general but whatever it was Shoto had liked it. Her smile widened, eyes flashing in recognition and Shoto knew that this wouldn’t be the last time he would hear those words or some variation of them. “Why don’t you head back and get ready?” Shoto stiffened slightly at the words. He knew they would be coming, the two of them having discussed this but it made the situation that much more real to hear her say them. He swallowed before licking his dry lips, eyes nervously darting around before stopping on her. Pulling in a deep breath Shoto nodded, pulling his hands from hers and started to make his way towards the bathroom. He lent back against the door once it was closed, eyes closed and just breathing. He stayed there for a few moments, trying to steady his nerves and gain some composure. He was fine, there was nothing to be scared about. He knew that she would take care of him, that she wouldn’t do anything he didn’t like or ask for. He was safe with her. With a sigh he pushed away from the door and began to strip, folding his clothes neatly and placing them on top of the closed toilet. He turned the shower on, letting the water heat up before stepping under the spray. He let the warm water cascade down his shoulders and back, head hung forward in an attempt to keep his hair dry. His cock hung limply between his legs and Shoto wondered if he should try and get it up before going back out but in all honesty he didn’t know if he would be able to.  He was excited sure but he was also nervous and a little scared if he was being honest with himself and at the moment the negative outweighed the positive.

Groaning Shoto grabbed the soap and began to wash himself, his movements methodical and quick. He let out a small groan as he groped his own ass, cold fingers prodding at his entrance, his dick twitching in interest. Trying to ignore his growing arousal Shoto finished washing, turning the shower off and stumbling out to grab a towel. He rubbed over his body, rough and quick in his haste to get dry. He looked down at his clothes, wondering whether or not to put them back on. It seemed pointless, like an extra obstacle in getting what he wanted. Deciding not to bother he wrapped the large fluffy towel around his waist and headed back out into the main living space.

He found her sat on the edge of the bed, leaning back on her hands and head tipped back. She had turned all the lights off in the apartment apart from the one lamp on the bedside table, the warm yellow glow making everything seem softer. Slowly he walked over to her, coming to a stop in front of her. She looked at him from under hooded eyes, smiling gently. “Hey” she whispered, tipping her head forward and dragging her eyes across his exposed chest, eyes lingering on the obvious bulge between his legs. The smile slipped into a smirk, her pink tongue darting out to drag along her plum bottom lip.

Swallowing nervously Shoto adverted his gaze, eyes landing on the few things she had placed next to her. There were a couple of condoms and a bottle of lube but what caught his attention was the black silicone dildo that led on top. It looked bigger than he had expected, the veins more pronounced than he though they would be. 

“You can touch it if you want” she purred, fingers ghosting along his abs before gripping his waist tightly. With one last look he turned back to the women in front of him, shaking his head no. He was afraid that if he touched it he would manage to talk himself out of it.

With a soft smile she stood, wrapping one arm round his waist whist she griped gently at his chin with the other hand. She leant up at the same time she pulled him down, their lips brushing in a gentle kiss. Shoto sighed into it, his eyes closing as he gripped at her waist. It was over quickly, Y/N pulling away from him just enough that they could look at one another comfortably. “You ready?” she asked, her voice gently.

Shoto stilled, his eyes boring into hers. It was a simple question but it left him feeling anxious. Was he ready? He had had weeks to prepare for this, to psych himself up for what was to come and he had thought that he was ready for it but now faced with it he was unsure. He wanted it, wouldn’t have asked her for it if he didn’t but was he ready to have that experience now?

The hand that had been griping his chin slid up to cup his cheek, her thumb brushing against his cheek bone. “It’s okay. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to”. She reassured him and Shoto felt all the tension leave him in a single rush. He trusted her with this, with him and he knew he wouldn’t come to regret this in the morning.

“I’m ready” he whispered, turning his head and placing a gentle kiss on her palm. She smiled at him, leaning up to place one last kiss on his lips before stepping back. She wasted no time tugging the towel free and threw it back towards the living room. Her eyes raked across his body, taking in everything and Shoto had to fight the urge to cover up, feeling exposed. “On the bed” she jerked her head behind her and Shoto moved without question.

She hadn’t said how she wanted him so he climbed into the middle, laying down on his back and head resting on the pillows. His head was elevated enough that he could watch as she climbed up from the end of the bed, crawling up him with an almost predatory grim on her face. She hovered over him, knees on either side of his hips and hands next to his head. “Do you trust me?” Shoto’s eyes widened slightly at her sudden whispered question. After all this time did she really think she had to ask that?

“Yes” he whispered back, his cold hand cupping her cheek once more. With a soft smile she leaned forward, his hand slipping from her cheek so he could drape the arm across her shoulder. She placed soft kisses along his jaw and Shoto turned offering her more space as she kissed and nipped her way up to his ear. He gasped as she sucked the lobe between her teeth, nipping gently at it. “I’m going to wreck you” Shoto stiffened at her words, her gentle laughter sending shivers down his spine. She took advantage of his stunned silence, kissing her way back down his neck. Her teeth scrapped across his skin before sinking into the soft flesh where neck met shoulders. He cried out at the sudden shock of pain, eyes screwed shut, his other hand coming up to tangle in her hair. He felt her smirk against the abused flesh, her cool tongue soothing the sting.

She continued to move down his body, kissing, sucking and licking at every bit of exposed skin. Her mouth and tongue alternated from the sting of ice to the prickle of fire against him, making him gasp, squirming beneath her. Her assault on him was constant, never stopping to let him breathe or regain his bearings. Her hot mouth sealed around one of his nipples, sucking and licking at it hungrily. The other didn’t go ignored for long, her ice covered fingers pinching and twisting until Shoto was gasping, arching his chest off the bed and offering more of himself to her.

The stark contrast in temperatures was jarring, his mind unable to really comprehend to two different sensations all at once. It was maddening but also not enough, all it was doing was stroking the fires of his arousal, making him crave more. Suddenly everything shifted, what had been hot was cold and what was cold now hot. Lips were exchanged for fingers and fingers gave way to sharp teeth. Shoto cried out at the sudden shift, the sensitive skin aching at the sudden and drastic shift in temperature.

Shoto hardly had time to process the change before she was moving on, fingers skimming down his side as her lips dragged down his abs, tongue licking at the groves and teeth nipping. She shifted, hands curling around the inside of his thighs and forcing his legs open. She settled between them, eyes find his and holding his gaze as she swirled her tongue around his belly button before placing gentle kisses down his stomach. Shoto held his breath as he watched her, anticipation thrumming through him the closer she got to his straining dick but she bypassed it, placing more kisses across his thighs. Shoto’s annoyed whine turned into a pained gasp as she bit down on his thigh, sucking the skin into her hungry mouth. She let the skin go with a wet pop, placing a soft kiss over the mark that was undoubtedly there. “Patience is a virtue” she whispered, smirking at him and Shoto groaned in annoyance, his head falling back to the pillow. His leg twitched as she kissed down it, all the way to his ankle than started on the other one, making her way back up. He expected her to skip right past his straining erection, continuing the slow build up so it came as a shock when she sucked him down in one go. Shoto cried out, hips jerking forward at the sudden attention. She hummed around him, hands grabbing at his hips and forcing him back down against the bed. Shoto curled a hand in her hair, not to control her movements but just for something to hold onto. She sucked and licked at him, her head moving up and down his length painfully slow and Shoto was lost. He tried to thrust up again, to get her to speed up her ministrations but she pushed him back again, her hands heating up to prickle uncomfortably at his skin. He hissed at the sudden sting, pulling away from her. She hummed around him, her hands cooling to sooth the pain and his hiss turned into a sigh. She sped up after that, her tongue swirling around his head before sucking him back down till he hit the back of her throat, the muscles constricting around him as she swallowed. She worked him perfectly, driving his desire higher only to bring him back down with a pained sob. He was begging, could hear the desperate please for more tumbling from his lips in between moans and cries of pleasure but she wouldn’t let him, keeping him on a knives edge. So far gone was he that he didn’t really register that her hands had left him, nor the sound of a bottle being opened. She shifted between his legs, the angle changing and he slid between her lips, her tongue dragging along the sensitive vein. He hit the back of her throat and she stopped. Panting Shoto lifted his head to look at her, his eyes struggling to focus on her. Finally his eyes locked onto hers and his breath caught. She was looking up at him, eyes hooded and stretched lips quirking into a smile around his dick. As soon as she realized she had all his attention she swallowed, a slick finger pushing at his entrance. Shoto’s head fell back, crying out at the sudden sensations. She slowly slid her slick finger in, pressing gently forward whilst still sucking at his cock. It stung, probably would have hurt more if he hadn’t been so blissed out already but he supposed that was the point. Distract him with pleasure so he didn’t notice the pain. She stopped once her finger was all the way in, her knuckles pressed against his ass. She pulled off his dick with a wet pop and a quick lick to the leaking slit before lifting herself up slightly to look at him. “You okay?” She asked, her voice rough yet still managing to sound concerned. Shoto was panting, his ass squeezing down on the intrusion. It felt odd, a little uncomfortable and he was fighting his body’s urge to force it out but it wasn’t bad. His erection had flagged a little but not completely, probably helped by the fact she had delicate fingers that were well lubed. Absentmindedly Shoto wondered how many he would have to take before she deemed him ready to take the abandoned toy. Shoto shifted his hips slightly, groaning as he felt her move inside of him. “Yeah” he managed to groan out. She smiled at him, blowing him a kiss before she ducked back down, taking him back into his mouth. She lapped and sucked at him leisurely as she slowly pulled her finger back before pushing it back in just as slowly. They continued like this till her finger was gliding into him effortlessly, his muscles relaxing and accepting the intrusion. The sting of pain had subsided, the hum of pleasure building again. “Another?” She numbed against his hip, teeth dragging across the bone. All Shoto could do was grunt, spreading his legs wider for her, planting his feet flat on the bed and raising his knees up. He felt exposed like this, wanton but he didn’t care, he just wanted more. She smiled against him, placing a gentle kiss before she pulled back. Shoto groaned as her finger slipped free, and odd sense of emptiness filling him. He rolled his hips trying to chase her retreating finger but the only answer he got was her teasing laughter, her warm breath fanning over his neglected dick and caused him to whine. “Shush love, you’ll get what you want soon enough” she soothed, mouthing up his dick and swallowing him back down. He let out a small moan, rolling his hips again to press deeper into her waiting mouth. He hissed as he pushed back, pressing his ass against her waiting fingers. Slowly she pushed forward, slick fingers stretch him one again. They went in slightly easier, his body more accepting this time but it still stung slightly.

She carried on as she had before, fingers working inside of him whilst she distracted him with gentle suction and hard licks except this time he felt fuller, the painful stretch not taking from his pleasure but adding to it. He was breathing heavily, hips rolling down onto her fingers before pushing back up into her waiting mouth. It was everything he wanted from her, better even and they weren’t even to the main event yet.

Her fingers shifted, pushing deeper and curling up wards and Shoto screamed, a bright shot of pleasure darting up his spine and setting his nerves alight. “There you are” she whispered, her lips curling into a smirk against his thigh as she pushed against the spot again causing him to gasp. “Wha…what…what’s” he managed to gasp out but the rest of his words stuck as she rubbed her fingers inside of him, pushing hard against his prostate. “Told you I would make you scream” she purred, her fingers pushing gently against the spot once more before pulling them out.

He whined at the loss, his dick twitching and leaking. “Come on” she commanded, hands grabbing at his hips as she began to turn him. He went with a groan, rolling onto his front and lifting himself up onto his hands and knees. They had spoken about this beforehand and Shoto knew this would be best for his first time but he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to watch her above him as she took him apart.

Cool hands ran up his side, quick fingers dancing across his ribs and tweaking at his still sensitive nipples. He let out a little gasp, head falling forward and his hair falling around him. The hands moved on quickly though, sliding down his back and messaging his ass. He moaned softly, rocking back and pushing his ass back into her hands. Her laughter ran out, loud and clear in the quiet room, nails digging into the muscle slightly as she squeezed.

“Look at you. Already so desperate for me” he groaned at her words, unable to deny her claim because it was true.  He wanted her to own him, to keep her promise and completely wreck him. “Please”. The word tumbled from his lips, begging her for more. He felt her move behind him, her hands gripping his cheeks and pulling them apart, exposing his clenching hole to her. He felt even more exposed than before, his greedy hole and dripping dick on display for her and he loved it. Loved that she was watching him fall apart for her so intently.  “Not yet love”.

Her warm breath against his twitching hole was the only warning he got before she dragged her tongue along his crack. Shoto cried out, hips jerking forward at the sudden sensation but her tight grip on his ass kept him place. Her tongue flicked at his rim, lapping at it and pushing down ever so gently before sucking hard. Beneath her Shoto squirmed, his arms giving out as he collapsed face first into the sheets, panting and moaning. He pushed back against her tongue, the tip slipping inside of him. His walls clenched around the intrusion but she pushes forward, tongue slipping in as far as it could go until her face was flush against his ass.

It felt so dirty, a filthy imitation of what she would be doing shortly as she fucked her tongue in and out of him and Shoto loved it. He rocked back against her, the lewd sucking and slurping noises driving him on. For a second he entertained the thought of reaching back and grabbing a fist full of her hair and using his grip to hold her still whilst he ground himself against her face. The thought had his dick twitching but he couldn’t bring himself to move, his hands tingling with pleasure.

With one last suck she pulled back and Shoto’s body relaxed, all the tension leaving him. “Such a filthy little pervert”. She nipped at his ass and Shoto yelped, hips jerking away from the sudden sting of pain. She laughed at him, one hand leaving his ass to stroke at his neglected cock. Her grip was nowhere near tight enough or fast enough but it had him moaning regardless. Her fingers were back at his entrance again, dripping with lube and rubbing gently against his hole. She dipped the tips of her fingers inside of his loosened hole before pulling them back out, teasing him with what he wanted until he couldn’t take it anymore. He rocked back on her fingers, forcing them deeper inside of him. They booth moaned, her head falling forward to rest against the small of his back. Encouraged by her reaction Shoto began to rock back and forth, pushing himself down onto her fingers and then forward into her waiting hand.  

“Look at you, fucking yourself back onto my fingers like the greedy little whore you are” Her filthy words had Shoto gasping, pushing back harder. “Please” he gasped, hoping she would grant him whatever it was he was begging for because he didn’t know. He wasn’t sure if he wanted her to continue with the filthy words, fingers moving inside of him or if he wanted her to finally give him what he had asked for all those weeks ago.

“Shush love” her voice was low and gentle as she soothed him, a delicate hand petting at his side. “Just a little more and then I’ll give you what you want”. As she spoke she pulled her fingers out of him causing him to let out a small sob at the emptiness. He didn’t have to wait long, her fingers returning but this time a third pushed in alongside the other two. Despite knowing better Shoto pushed back against them, wincing at the sudden shock of pain at being forced wider. “Gently” she chided him and Shoto stilled, allowing her to slowly work the three fingers into him, pushing a little bit deeper every time. He let out a shaky breath once her fingers stilled, finally all the way in.

She kept still as Shoto adjusted, stroking his sides and a pressing kisses against the small of his back in between soothing words. “You’re doing so well. Shush just breathe. Relax, that’s it. Doing so well love”.  He was breathing slow and shallow, trying not to move too much. He felt so full, his ass stretched wide around her fingers and it was a delicious kind of pain.

After a while he felt comfortable enough to rock his hips slight and that was the only permission she needed. Her fingers curled, brushing against his prostate and causing him to cry out once more. She worked methodically after that, her fingers moving in and out of him quickly and efficiently. Her fingers barley brushed against his prostate but every time she did it had him gasping and pushing back for more.

She shifted behind him, draping herself along his back and nipping at his ear. “You ready?” It was the second time she had asked him that tonight and unlike last time he was quick an answer, gasping out a desperate ‘yes’ as she brushed against his prostate one last time before gently slipping her fingers free. “Touch yourself” she demanded before placing a quick kiss on his cheek and moving back, the bed shifting as she got up. Groaning Shoto wrapped a shaky hand around his dick, lazily moving it up and down. He kept his grip lose, afraid that if he gave himself too much attention he would cum before she got to fuck him. Behind him he could hear fabric rustling as she finally undressed, catching a glimpse of black as she threw her top to the side. Then came the snap of elastic and metal snaps clicking into place, the crinkling sound of a condom wrapper being opened and then the sound of a bottle cap opening. Shoto wanted to look. He wanted to see what she looked like with it hanging between her legs. Wanted to watch her cover it in lube whilst she hovered over him. He was just about to turn when the bed dipped, her warm hands sliding up his thighs as she crawled up behind him. He pushed back against her hands, hopping to feel more of her pressed against him but she was too far back and he groaned in disappointment. Laughing gently she knocked his hand away from his aching dick and replacing it with her own, fingers wrapping tightly around him. He cried out at the sudden increase in pressure, her hand moving quickly for a few short strokes before her hand was gone. He didn’t have time to lament the loss as she curled one hand tightly around his hip and the tip of the dildo brushed against his waiting hole. He stiffened at the sudden pressure, body tensing at the prospect of having something bigger inside him. “Breath love. We’re going to take this nice and slow” she reassured him, booth hands rubbing soothing circles into his sides. With a deep breath Shoto shifted, getting both hands back underneath him and pushing his chest back up. He lifted his head, staring at her headboard as he tried to calm his racing heart. He was nervous again, worried about the pain that he was sure would come. She stayed still behind him, the tip just pressed against him as her hands ran over his back and sides, trying to ease his tension. He was grateful for her allowing him this moment, his breath finally evening out and he nodded his head and pushed back over so slightly. Her hands went back to his hips, holding him still as she began to push forward. Shoto gasped at the first real push, his hole stretching around the head of the toy. It didn’t hurt as much as he thought it would, the time she spent stretching him helping with that but it still stung slightly. She pressed forward slowly, rocking her hips gently and stopping every now and then to give him time to adjust. The whole time she whispered words of encouragement to him, her tone gentle as the words tumbled from her lips. “You’re doing so well love. Just relax. That’s it. Halfway now. So good for me. Just breathe. Look at you taking it so well. Almost there last push”. Her words helped, the whispered praise sending shivers down his spine. When she finally bottomed out she stilled, hips pressed tight against his ass. Shoto’s head had fallen forward, hanging between his trembling arms as he tried to calm himself down. He was so full and he could feel every inch of the thing inside of him, every raised vein pushing against his walls, the stretch just on the good side of painful. Experimentally he constricted his muscles, clenching down on the toy and letting out a soft moan. Chuckling gently she leaned forward to rest her head on his shoulders, the toy shifting inside of him and causing him to suck in a breath. He could feel her smiling as she mouthed at his warm skin, teeth nipping at his shoulder blades. “Feels good doesn’t it” it wasn’t a question and Shoto frowned turning his head slightly to try and look at her. “Did you really think I was going to put something inside you that I didn’t know would feel good?” She mumbled against his back, teeth scrapping gently across the abused skin. Shoto’s eyes widened as he fully registered her words, his mind filling with images of her in a similar position as he was now expect she was alone, working her own fingers into her before plunging the toy into her stretched hole, twisting and turning it to get the best angle as she fucked herself. He groaned, head falling forward once again and pre-cum dripping from his neglected cock. At some point he wanted to see that, to watch her take herself apart on the same thing she was using to wreck him but that would have to wait, his own need pressing down on his mind and demanding release. He must have spoken without realizing it because she was laughing again, leaning back and gripping his hips once more. “Next time love”. With that she slowly began to pull back until only the head of the toy was left inside him. “Sing for me” she demanded then snapped her hips forward, pushing back inside and Shoto did, head flying back as he cried out towards the ceiling. She quickly found a rhythm somewhere between fast and slow, grinding against his ass every time she pushed into him. Every couple of thrusts she would brush over that sensitive spot inside and he would cry out, hands clawing at her sheets as he pushed back looking for more of that sharp burst of pleasure. It didn’t take long for him to start pushing back against her, fucking himself back on the dick that was now gliding easily into him. He was a babbling, incoherent mess, begging her for more but she wouldn’t cave, instead keeping to her maddening pace that wasn’t enough to push him over the edge. One of her hands left his hip and Shoto keened, anticipating the feel of her hand wrapping around his aching dick but it never came. There was a soft click, barely audible over his heavy breathing, followed by a gentle hum. Her fingers clenched on his hip, blunt nails digging in as she let out a low groan. She collapsed against him, her breasts pressing against his back as she ground her hips forward. The hand not in his hips slipped into his hair, grabbing tightly at the slightly damp strands and tugged his head back. He gasped at the sudden pain but the sound was swallowed as she sealed her lips over his in a sloppy kiss. He kissed back as best as he could, his tongue lapping at her mouth and muffling her moan. Pulling back he made a confused noise but she was already gone, letting go of his hair to grip at his hips and jerk him back onto the toy. He gasped as she hit his prostate straight on, hitting it again and again as she spoke, her voice low and breathless. “I said you couldn’t have a vibrator, I didn’t say anything about me not having one” he could hear the amusement in her voice as she thrust forward again groaning loudly and all Shoto could do was let out his own cry. “Please. I, I want” he couldn’t get the words out, every one falling into a moan. She slowed down, closer to grinding against him than actually fucking him and Shoto whined at the lack of friction, trying to pull forward so he could fuck himself against her. Her hands tightened on his hips, her bruising grip stilling him and holding him tight against her. “What do you want?” She asked, tone gentle as she came to a complete stop. Shoto sobbed, his arms finally giving out and he collapsed onto his elbows. “Shoto. What do you want?” She asked again but this time her voice was hard, an edge to it that left him no room to deny her. “Wonna see you” he managed to mumble out against the sheets, head turned to the side and tear filled eyes straining to make out the room beyond. Silence greeted him and Shoto began to feel panic creeping up along the edges of his mind, slowly eating away at his pleasure. Had he said something wrong? Maybe she didn’t want to see him, see the blissed out look on his face as she fucked him. Maybe she truly was disgusted with him and this was the only way she could make it through this. She slowly pulled out of him and Shoto let out a chocked off sob, shoving his face into the pillow. He felt the bed dip as she got off and he had to fight back tears. This was the point she left him. He jerked as gentle fingers slid round to curl under his chin, gently turning his head to look back out over the room. He expected anger and disgust but instead he found her smiling gently down at him, eyes filled with love. Her cheeks were flushed a deep red and he could see where she had been biting at her lip. “Whatever you want my love'” her voice was gentle, loving and Shoto felt a rush of relief flood over him, mixed with the overwhelming love he felt for the women before him. He smiled gently back at her and began to turn onto his back, wincing slightly at the dull throb of pain. She stayed next to the bed until he had made himself comfortable, checking that he was okay before climbing on top of him and settling between his spread legs. His eyes instantly went down to thing between her legs, the black dildo looking incredibly large and he couldn’t help but marvel that it had been inside of him. His erection had softened slightly in his moment of panic but watching her line herself back up to his entrance, getting ready to take him again had him hardening once more. Slowly she slid back inside and Shoto gasped, the angle different like this and causing the toy to push against his prostate. She watched him intently, looking for any sign of discomfort but when she didn’t find any she smiled down at him. He watched as she fiddled with a small control she had tucked into the side of the harness, pushing buttons until she let out a small gasp, hips jerking forward and pressing the toy deeper inside of him.

She leant forward, resting her weight on one arm braced against the bed next to his head and the other slid down his thigh, curling around the muscle and yanking his leg up to her hip. Like this they were closer, her breasts pushed against his chest and mouth close enough to his that he had no problem reaching up, curling his arms around her neck and pulling her down for a kiss. It wasn’t lost on him that this was often how they ended up when he fucked her, pressed close together and sharing breath as they both moaned and panted for more. She couldn’t get the same kind of movement like this as she had before but like this she pushed against his prostate with every thrust, the toy dragging against it and pulling almost a constant stream of cries from him. Breaking free of his lips, she hung her head down next to his ear, every moaned word that came next sending shivers down his spine. “Look at you. Taking me so perfectly. Singing so sweetly for me it’s almost enough to make me cum from that alone”. Shoto arched up into her, nails digging into her back hard as her words washed over him. He wanted to be perfect for her, wanted her to enjoy breaking him as much as he was enjoying being broken. “Please” he gasped, nails scratching along her back as she lifted herself up enough to look him in the eyes. He could only imagine how he looked to her. Skin flushed red and tears falling from his eyes, mouth hanging open as he gasped for air and moaned for more. “Please” he cried again, rolling his hips down as best as he could. “Okay” she whispered, pulling back even more so she could fuck into him faster and harder, hitting that spot dead on every time. Shoto cried, his muscles clenching down on the toy as his climax rushed forward. He felt on edge, like glass about to shatter but it wasn’t enough, he needed more. Whining he grabbed at her hips, fingers scrabbling at sweat slicked skin as he tried to pull her closer. She snatched up one of his hands, curling it around his own dick before going back to gripping his leg, holding him open for her as she drove him closer to the edge. Franticly he jerked at his straining prick, his hands gliding as he rubbed his pre-cum over himself. He was babbling nonsense, chasing his release and not really paying attention to what was coming out of his mouth, only catching the odd word. He was sure he called her name, singing her praise as he begged for more and in between he gasped and moaned, sure he sounded like one of the pornos he had gotten the idea of this from. Above him she moaned, her hand disappearing for a second before returning to his thigh. The vibrating sounds had gotten louder and somehow she was slamming into him harder and faster, moaning just as loud as him. “Close, I’m close” he called out as the coil tightened in his stomach, his hand squeezing tightly at his swollen and dripping head. “Then come for me” she demand before falling forward, lips crashing against his and forcing her tongue into his waiting mouth. Shoto cried, body tensing as she pushed hard against his prostate, his hand moving quickly over his pulsing member. He came harder than he could ever remember, ass clenching down on the toy inside as hot spurts of cum shot out of him, splattering against their stomachs and dripping over his hand, his vision blurring as it burst with bright white. Above him she stilled, groaning into his mouth as her body shock and then everything seemed to fade to black. When he finally came to Shoto groaned, unsure how long he had been out. She was no longer with him, the room eerily empty. Frowning he went to sit up but a sharp pain shot up his back and he collapsed back onto the bed with a gasp. “I highly recommend against moving” her voice floated across the room and Shoto turned to see her coming out of the bathroom, washcloth in hard. She had gotten rid of the toy and harness and was now gloriously naked with faint red lines loping around her waist and thighs but they were already fading, probably along with whatever ones he had left on her back. Slowly she sank onto the bed next to him, dragging the warm cloth over him and cleaning him off. Shoto hummed at the gentle treatment, eyes slipping closed once more and enjoying her caring touch. “How you feeling?” She asked tentatively. Shoto cracked his eyes open looking at her and surprised to see her frowning down at the towel in her hands. “Sore” he said truthfully, not missing the way she tensed slightly. “But good”. She turned to him, eyebrow raised in question but her lips were quirking you in a small smile, matching his. She threw the towel toward the corner of the room before crawling into the bed and curling into his side. He draped an arm over her shoulder and buried his face into her hair. “Thank you” he mumbled, his arm tightening around her. “Glad I could give you something you wanted” the silence stretched in between them and Shoto felt his eyes starting to droop, exhaustion finally finding him. “Was it, what you wanted?” Her voice was quiet and if he had been just that little bit closer to sleep he probably would have missed the whispered question, uncertainty lacing every word. He kissed her head before using his head to get her to tip hers back so he could look into her eyes. “Better than I imagined”. She blushed at his words, any trace of doubt being chased away. He lent down placing a gentle kiss against her bitten red lips. It was soft, nothing more than a gentle brush of lips but it was perfect. The sound of her phone dinging had her pulling away with a groan. Reluctantly she pulled away, stumbling from the bed and disappearing into the half-darkness of the living room. When she came back she had a large fluffy looking grey throw with her, throwing it across him before turning the lamp off and crawling back into the bed, snuggling up to his side once more. The light of her phone was harsh in the darkness and Shoto turned his head away, eyes closing as he let out an annoyed huff. “Who is it” he grumbled, annoyed that his moment had been disturbed. “Work” she sighed, slinging an arm over his stomach so her hand could curl around his side and turned to press her front flush against his side. “Nothing important” she mumbled and Shoto grunted, eyes closing and resting his head against hers. Her breathing evened out quickly, little puffs of warm air tickling his skin. With a sight Shoto sunk back into the bed, closing his eyes and willing sleep to take him. Tonight had been good, better than he had ever dared to hope for and all he wanted to do tonight was bask in his pain fuzzy afterglow and enjoy having the women he loved in his arms.

[wicked-mind]

Remember Me: Chapter Five

Summary: Y/N and Bucky were the unlikely match when it came to love, but they were inseparable since they met. After a fight, Y/N left to be a trauma surgeon in the military and returns without her memories. How will Bucky remind Y/N how she is the fire in his bones? Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Swearing (I like swearing. Adds character and sounds pretty to me lol), car crash, oh and enter John Walker

Series Masterlist

All Writings Masterlist

Note: Okay, I know what you are all thinking. Oh no, not Walker! He isn’t a bad guy in this, just a friend so put the pitchforks away. And as always, support is appreciated whether it be a like, reblog, or comment (:

*gifs not mine

Previously

When Bucky finished cleaning the plate and beer from earlier as well as making sure all the doors were locked and lights off, he walks back to the bedroom to see the beautiful figure of Y/N asleep in his bed. He was grinning ear to ear, happy she was back where she belonged. He pulled off his shirt and changed into some dark grey sweats before slowly and quietly crawling into bed with her. He watched her sleep, taking in everything about her. He had missed watching her sleep, pondering what was going on in her brain while she slept. What dreams she was having and whether it was of him or not. He could lay there for hours and watch her sleep, brushing his fingertips along her cheek slowly. As much as Bucky wanted to stay awake and watch her, he eventually fell asleep as well with a small smile on his lips.

Chapter five - We looked at each other a little too long to be “just friends”

Y/N blinked awake as the sun hit her face from the window, her eyes immediately landing on Bucky asleep next to her. She studied his face, he seemed so relaxed and happy when he slept. She lifted her hand to gently brush across his face, watching him twitch a little at the touch before opening those gorgeous blue eyes to stare at her, “Hi..” She said softly towards him, feeling butterflies erupt in her chest at his gaze.

Bucky smiled, Y/N was back where she belonged- next to him. Even is she couldn’t remember much about their relationship, she was there staring at him like she always did in the mornings and Bucky had never been so happy to see those eyes staring across from him, “Mornin’ doll.” He whispers out to her, slowly reaching out and wrapping his arms around her, pulling her closer to him, “How’d you sleep?”

“Good… I slept really good.” Y/N responds, keeping her voice soft. She as enjoying everything about this moment. The way Bucky looked at her made her feel like she was his sun and she could see the love he felt for her practically dripping off of his features. It was melting her with every touch and every look he gave her, “What time is it?”

Bucky broke his gaze from Y/N’s face to roll over and check his phone on the bedside table, “Almost ten.” He said before rolling back to look at her, smiling instantly at the sight of her sleepy features.

Y/N’s eyes went wide and she jumped out of the bed, “Shit.. Shit shit shit.” She muttered, walking around the room, “I have an interview at the hospital at ten forty-five.” She paused in her spot, “And I forgot to tell Steve where I was last night. He’s probably freaking out.” She put her hands on her face, “Oh god.”

Bucky got up quickly, walking over and placing his hands on her shoulders, “Stop freaking out.” He said with a smile and small chuckle, “I got some pairs of your old scrubs, all washed and everything. Go ahead and shower, all your shampoos and soaps are still there as well as your toothbrush. I’ll give you a ride to the hospital and I’ll talk to Steve.” He told her, rubbing his hands comfortingly down her shoulders until he reached her hands. He brings one of her hands up to his lips, kissing her knuckles as he stared into her eyes, “Sound good?”

Y/N listened to him, entranced by the way he looked at her. A thankful smile creeped across her lips slowly, nodding at him, “Sounds like a good plan.” She said, a small blush appearing on her cheeks as he kissed her knuckles, “Thank you.” She told him.

Bucky proceeded to show Y/N where all her clothes were, passing her some dark navy scrubs. They were always her favorite color and also his. He watched her disappear into his bathroom behind the shut door, a smile glued to his lips. He couldn’t believe she was back in his house, in his bed, and now in his shower. But those thoughts cleared his mind as he dialed up Steve on his cell phone, listening to it ring once before Steve answered.

“Bucky, is she with you? Sam called and said she was at the bar last night and ran into Rumlow.”

“Yeah, she’s alright. She was a little tipsy from tequila and I took care of Rumlow…” Bucky paused as he heard Steve let out a soft chuckle about the tequila, “I showed her the box.” It was silent for a moment before Steve responded.

“And? Is she okay?”

Bucky smiled softly to himself, “She remembered the rose I gave her our first Valentine’s Day and how the neighbor yelled at me for stealing it from one of the rose bushes.” He chuckles a little, “She’s fine though. She stayed the night and I’m taking her to the hospital for her interview. And don’t worry Stevie, I’m taking it slow, being a perfect gentleman.”

Steve sighed a little, “I trust you with her, Buck. You know that I always have. Just don’t be taking up all her time, I missed her too.”

Bucky smiled, “I won’t. I’ll bring her back to your house after her interview.” He said, before exchanging goodbyes and hanging up. The sound of the shower turning off stopped him, he watched the door to the bathroom down the hallway, waiting for her to come out in those dark blue scrubs he loved so much. When she appeared through the bathroom door, his breath got caught in his lungs. There she was, all doctored up. Bucky loved this look of her, as professional as she looked she was also extremely sexy in the way the scrubs hugged her curves.

Y/N bit her lip as she pulled her wet hair back into a pony tail, noting the way Bucky was running his eyes up and down her body. It made her skin feel hot, tingly. She walked over to her backpack she had left, zipping it open and making sure her stethoscope and emergency medical supplies were in there, which they were. She never went anywhere without them just in case someone needed help. She picks it up and slings it over her shoulders before walking over to Bucky, biting her bottom lip again nervously, “Ready whenever you are.”

Bucky smiled at her, reaching out and placing his hands on her hips, pulling her closer to him and placing a soft kiss on Y/N’s lips, “You’ve always looked so damn good in scrubs.” He told her, his smile widening as he saw her blush again, “C’mon darlin’. I know you like to be early.”

Bucky dropped Y/N off at the hospital, telling her to give him a call after her interview was over and he would pick her up to take her home. He gave her a soft kiss before watching her go inside, speeding off on his motorcycle with a boyish grin across his features. Within an hour, Y/N called him, “Hey doll, how’d it go?”

Y/N walked out of the hospital and down the street, the phone pressed to her ear, “It.. Uhm.. It didn’t. The chief of surgery remembers me and how amazing of a surgeon I am but he didn’t feel comfortable putting someone with no memories as chief of trauma.” She said with a sigh. She couldn’t lie, the moment the words passed Chief Miller’s lips she felt defeated and hurt. The one thing she actually remembered was surgery and medicine and it felt like that was being taken away from her.

“Oh… I’m so sorry, darlin’. I’ll come pick you up. We can pick up some lunch and go back to your brother’s okay?”

Y/N kept her steady pace down the sidewalk, pursing her lips at his words, “I actually feel like walking home… processing stuff you know?” She looked up when she heard some tires squealing, watching a truck t-bone a parked car and hitting a pedestrian in the process.

“Y/N, what was that? Are you okay?! Y/N!”

Y/N blinked at the sudden wreck, Bucky’s voice pulling her back to reality, “Yeah, I’m fine. I gotta go.” She said before hanging up and running straight over to the man who had been walking across the street when the truck made a sharp left and struck him. She immediately got into the groove of assessing and treating traumas, directing a bystander to call for an ambulance.

Bucky panicked when Y/N hung up on him, immediately jumping on his bike and speeding towards the hospital. He parked his bike and ran into the ER, looking around for Y/N. When he heard his voice, he froze and turned.

Y/N was on top of a man on a gurney, her hand in the man’s chest as he was unloaded from the gurney. She didn’t even notice Bucky standing in the middle of the ER watching her, she was stuck in surgeon mode and covered in the man’s blood, “We got an MVC, two more ambulances behind us, driver and passenger. Triaged in the field. This patient was a pedestrian hit by the truck, I need to get this man to an operating room now!” She told the doctors who were pushing the gurney through the emergency room. Her eyes focused on Chief Miller, “Better give me those privileges, Chief. I got my finger plugging a hole in his right ventricle and if you don’t, he will bleed out before someone else can plug the hole.”

Chief Miller nodded, watching the other two from the car crash come in from ambulances before returning his sight on Y/N who was waiting for him to grant her privileges to operate, “I’ll do you one better, you’re the new Chief of Trauma. I’ll call ahead to OR 2, let them know you’re coming and get cardio to meet you there.”

Y/N smiled and nodded, relief flooding through her at his words. She did it, she had proven herself. As doctors pushed the gurney towards the operating room doors, her eyes fell on Bucky who had heard the whole thing and was giving her a smile and mouthing the words ‘great job’ to her. She smiled and nodded towards him before disappearing behind the doors to the operating room.

Bucky waited for her in the waiting room for about three hours, grinning to himself. Of course Y/N got the job, she was destined for it and he was unbelievably proud of her for proving that she was still the best trauma surgeon around. When he saw her come out of the operating room doors and into the waiting room, she was wearing clean red scrubs and her backpack over her shoulders. He immediately stood and hugged her, “Okay, first of all, next time tell me what happened instead of just saying you have to go because I was worried. And second…” He smiled down at her, brushing his fingers across her face, “I’m so proud of you.”

Y/N smiled at him, “I’m sorry, I just jumped into surgeon mode. I didn’t mean to worry you.” She told him, “And thank you. I did it.” She said with a small giggle of joy. She leaned up and kissed Bucky’s cheek, “Chief Miller said I can finish up the paperwork tomorrow. So… It’s almost dinner time now… how about dinner and a ride? I’m starving.”

Bucky wrapped an arm around her shoulder, “Anything for you, Chief of Trauma.” He said with a smile, walking her towards the exit of the hospital. He helped her to the parking lot and clicked the helmet secured on her head before helping her onto his bike. This ride home was different than others. Y/N didn’t hide her face in the back of Bucky’s leather jacket, instead she tilted her head back and let the wind hit her face and run through her hair. She closed her eyes, smiling and laughing a little at the high. Bucky was right when he told her it was like when she performed surgery. It was exhilarating sitting behind Bucky on his motorcycle. She felt free, everything fading away to this moment and she was stuck in it. It wasn’t until Bucky slowed down in front of a diner that she opened her eyes and looked at him, her mouth hanging open a little as she took deep breaths before she smiled at him.

Bucky slid off the bike, kicking the kick stand down, “I’ll be right back, love.” He told her, smiling as he pressed a kiss to her cheek. He disappeared inside and came back out with a bag of to-go boxes, passing them to Y/N, “Think you can manage holding onto those for the ride home?”

Y/N took the food and nodded towards him, “Yeah, I’ll manage.” She told him, securing the food in one arm with her fingers tightly around the straps of the plastic bag before wrapping her free arm around Bucky’s waist when got back in front of her on the motorcycle. The way home, she kept a firm grasp around Bucky’s waist with her arm that wasn’t holding the food, but a smile still was planted to her lips as the wind rushed against her face. Once they arrived back at Steve’s house, Y/N and Bucky walked in. Y/N immediately hugged her brother and apologized for not calling or coming home last night before telling him the good news that she got the job. It called for victory beers during dinner.

“This is nice, like old times.” Peggy said once they had finished eating, holding Steve’s hand on the table.

Bucky and Steve nodded in agreement with the statement while Y/N bit her lip. She didn’t remember these ‘old times’ they were agreeing about but if this is what they were like she’s glad it existed. She was sitting next to Bucky who had stretched out an arm over her shoulders, stroking her shoulder gently with his finger tips as he watched her carefully. This was genuine happiness painted across her features, she was happy to be home and safe with people she loved. Her train of thought was interrupted when she heard a truck in front of the house, her brow furrowing, “Are we expecting someone?” She asks, her eyes flickering between Steve and Peggy who shook their head.

Steve stood up to go look out the window with Y/N and Bucky behind him while Peggy started cleaning up the dishes. Y/N froze when she saw a tall, muscular blonde haired man get out of a large black truck, “Oh my god..” She said softly as a smile crept onto her lips. She pushed her brother out of the way from the front door, opening it and running down the porch steps and jumped into the man’s arms, “John! What are you doing here?” She asks when he put her back down.

Bucky watched Y/N get excited at the mystery man, feeling a tinge of jealousy at the smile that wasn’t towards him. That bit of jealousy went full blown when he saw Y/N in the man named ‘John’s’ arms, "Who the fuck is John?" He muttered over to Steve who shrugged before he stepped out with Steve, going to wrap his arm around Y/N’s waist as he gave the blonde man a look over, “Who’s this, doll?” He asks curiously, though his voice was stern and his lips were pressed into a grim line. His arm around Y/N’s waist pulled her closer against him in a protective fashion.

Y/N looked at Bucky then back to the man named John, “Steve, Bucky, this is John Walker. We were on deployment at the same time, he was one of the men in charge of protecting our base.” She said with a smile, “He was pretty much my best friend from what I remember.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes as he looked the man up and down again, muttering something under his breath like ‘well you did a good job protecting the base’ sarcastically but low enough nobody heard.

John smiled, placing his hands in the pockets of his jeans, “I heard you were back up and running around, had to come see for myself how you were. Heard you lost a lot of your memories but I’m glad you still remember me.” He said to her before turning his attention to Steve and Bucky, “Nice to meet you guys, heard a lot about both of you.”

That sentence drew more into Bucky’s curiosity. What did this blonde guy named John know about him? What had Y/N told him about the end of their relationship when she deployed? And why in the fuck did Y/N remember John Walker but not him? His jealousy was growing by the minute, wondering what John was to Y/N and vice versa. Bucky’s jealousy faded a little when he felt Y/N place a hand on his hand that rested around her waist, flashing a small smile down towards her before kissing her head.

Steve shook John’s hand and put on his best friendly smile, “Always nice to meet a friend of Y/N’s.” He said, “Appreciate you checking up on her.”

Y/N waited for her brother to stop talking before bringing the attention back to her, “If you came a little earlier I would’ve invited you in for dinner, John.” She said with a smile.

John looked at Y/N, a smile resting on his lips, “That’s alright. I just wanted to come and say hello and let you know if you need any help remembering things,” His eyes flickered to Bucky before returning to her, “I’m here for you. I should head back to the VA now though, got a meeting. I’ll see you later, Y/N.” He told her before smiling towards Steve and Bucky, “Nice to meet you two, I’m sure I’ll see you guys around.” He said before turning and getting back into his truck and driving away.

Bucky watched John drive away before he shifted himself to stand in front of Y/N, taking both her hands in his as Steve started to head back inside, “You didn’t tell me you remembered him?” He said, posing the comment as a question as he put a small smile on towards her.

Y/N shrugged, “Yeah, I didn’t remember until I saw him and it all came rushing back. This memory thing is so weird.” She sighs softly, “Some things come back in bits and pieces and other times it’s like being hit with a tidal wave of memories. He’s great though from what I remember, you’ll like him. We should all go get drinks sometime.”

“Oh, I don’t know, doll.” Bucky said, his smile growing as he leaned down to lay a gentle kiss on Y/N’s forehead, “I don’t know if I can manage to share your attention with anybody else.”

Y/N rolled her eyes a little bit at his comment, giggling softly, “C’mon, Bucky. It’s not like that, don’t get jealous. John’s just a friend and he may be able to fill in some gaps in my memory.” She reminded, knowing that he would know that was important to her.

Bucky sighs and nods reluctantly, “Alright, fine. We can get together for drinks one night.” He said with a smile down to her. He couldn’t say no to her, never could. Except before she left to serve as a trauma surgeon in the military. That was the one time he had tried to tell her no and that backfired pretty horribly, “I got a question for you, darlin.” He stated, “How did you figure out the girl I talked about was you?”

Y/N smiled, lifting her hands to rest on his cheeks as her thumbs brushed across his stubbled cheeks lightly, “Well, I am some sort of genius even without my memories." She teased, "You would always look at me when you talked about her like you were talking to her. You call me those cute pet-names quite a lot. And… well, we looked at each other a little too long to be ‘just friends’ like everybody kept telling me.” Y/N watched his facial features turn into a smile towards her, feeling him grip her waist between his large hands and pulling her closer, “I also just felt safe with you. Like the whole world melted away and it was just you and me and it was familiar feeling.” She finished before standing on her toes and planting a kiss to his lips.

_____________________________________________________________

Taglist: @vicmc624 @buckypops @shawnie--jo

If I missed anybody on the taglist or you would like to be added, send me a quick message, comment or ask. Thank you for the support (:

[taurean-brat]

Cafuné - Angel Reyes

Summary— Cafuné, an unique, untranslatable Afro-Brazilian Portuguese word meaning “to run your fingers through your lovers hair”. Angel x Spanish Speaking/Latina!Reader 

Warning(s): Fluff, a little sad (?), mention of sexual situations, the grey sweats and shirtless Angel.

Final Word Count: 2.3K This was supposed to be something short. Like maybe 1K short. Smhh 

A/N: Also this is not beta read. I wrote this cause it’s cloudy and cold out and I was listening to the song Cafuné by Micro TDH. It’s a very beautiful song and one of my favorites for when I’m in one of these moods with a candle lit and the room dark and Now I wish I was being held, but sadly I ain’t got a man. 

_______________________________________________

The moment you opened your eyes, the grey and cloudy light flooding your room through your slightly open curtains, you knew what kind of day was in store for you and wanted nothing more than to just wish you hadn’t woken up. Or that you lived in an alternate reality… or something. You hated these gloomy, cloudy days for the feelings they elicited in you, and you knew it would only get worse as the day dragged on.

Days like this were rare for you, where you just wanted to be wrapped up tight in your mans arms and do nothing all day, the feelings of listlessness and overwhelming sadness being washed away just by knowing you were safe in those arms. But staring at the empty side of your bed where your husband slept, you knew it wasn’t happening. 

Not because he wouldn’t drop everything to come home and be with you if you told him, but because you didn’t want to burden him with the neediness your emotions elicited in you. 

With a sigh, you throw the covers off you, shivering at the cool December air, and just briefly you’re taken back to growing up in New York, where it was more than likely snowy and cold enough to freeze hell over.

The reminder just made it worse and with a groan, you pull yourself out of bed, making quick work of making the bed and then heading to the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth, staring at your usually vibrant hazel green eyes look more of a glassy grayish blue. 

Leaning over the sink, you stare closely at your reflection, your dark curls framing your face in the half up half down you’d thrown it in as they hell over your shoulder and down into the sink. 

“Come on, Y/N, it’s just a few hours.” You say to yourself looking for the strong woman you usually see in your reflection and not the sad girl you’re not so used to seeing anymore. “Just throw on his favorite hoodie, some leggings, and wait a few hours. Then you can cuddle with Angel all that you want.” 

And that’s exactly what you did. You made quit work of throwing on some pink fuzzy socks, black leggings and his favorite hoodie, which happened to be light pink color with a small red rose stitched over the heart and the words “almost dead” in black, gothic lettering across the top. It made you giddy every time he wore it, your giggling nonstop. It wasn’t because men wearing pink was wrong— if anything the fact he’s not afraid of wearing it just makes you love him all the more— but rather because your man, the badass, 6’3”, built as fuck biker can rock the color. And it did things to you. 

Immediately, you felt somewhat better, just standing there inhaling the unmistakeable  scent of him for a few minutes before you moved along to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of coffee and eat the french toast you found covered on the counter, still warm and you wondered how you didn’t wake up at the smell. Just looking at it, you knew he’d made it exactly to your liking with extra cinnamon, and very obviously lots of powdered sugar. 

Making quick work of eating your breakfast, and serving your coffee (two splashes of French vanilla creamer and three teas spoons of sugar), you washed your plate, putting it to dry and then grabbed your speaker off the table. 

While you still wished you were in Angels arms, the simple gesture of him making you your favorite breakfast, warmed your heart, and you couldn’t resist sending him a text as soon as you sat down on the couch and turned the tv on: 

To: Mi Santo Diablo:

Thank you for leaving me breakfast, Mi Rey. Te Amo hasta que no queden estrellas en el cielo. 

You made quick work of taking a picture of your small smile, face half hidden in his hoodie and attaching it to the text before pressing send. 

While waiting for a response you turned on your speaker, connected it to your phone and put on some upbeat Spanish music while you put on a show on mute in the background (a habit you’d picked up as a teenager so you wouldn’t feel so lonely while studying late at night). You’d started cleaning up as the music started. While it wasn’t something you wanted to do today, it was better to keep yourself busy than disappear into your mind. 

You spent the next hour cleaning the kitchen, and moved on to vacuuming the rug in the living room when you heard your phone go off and you knew it was Angel, so you opened it quickly

From: Mi Santo Diablo:

You’re welcome, Mi Dulce. You deserved a day to sleep in. Yo también te amo. Hasta que el sol deje de arder. 

You smiled and went to send a series of emojis when another text came in. 

From: Mi Santo Diablo:

You look bella in my sweater, bebe. Can’t wait to have you in my arms.

You deleted the text you were gonna send and then proceeded to sending a few puppy eye emojis with some of the emoji with the floating hearts around the face, making use of the echo feature so it would fill up his screen. Before you went back to cleaning.

By the time you were done, cleaning, doing laundry, and putting said laundry away, the sun was starting to set and getting dark.

Walking back to the kitchen, you go about making vodka sauce and white rice to make penne ala vodka. Usually you’d wait for Angel, but you hadn’t eaten since breakfast since you skipped lunch. Plus, he called to say he’d be a bit late and to eat without him. And while you didn’t want to, and it made you frown, you did so because you’d likely pass out if you went any longer without eating. 

You ate your food pretty quickly, as always when it was a pasta dish, setting some aside for Angel in the microwave and another one for him to take to the clubhouse tomorrow before putting the rest of it in the fridge and washing the dishes. 

While still in the kitchen, you lit a few candles, setting one on the counter and taking the other with you to the coffee table in front of the couch as you watched the last rays of the sun disappear.

Sitting on the couch, you grabbed your phone off the table and lowered the music a bit so it wasn’t blaring so loudly the neighbors probably felt it in their bones. You found a not quite so upbeat song, but wasn’t so sad either. It just depended. It was one you’d found a few months back and you couldn’t help but falling in love with the lyrics. 

Putting it on repeat you laid on the couch and just stared blankly at the fire, listening to the song, and singing along certain parts. 

You were so caught up in just singing along quietly, staring at the fire of your candle, that you didn’t hear the door open and close behind you. Nor did you hear the footsteps walking towards the back of the couch nor feel the warm chocolate brown eyes staring you, full of love as you sighed and curled up a little more as the song restarted, putting your face deeper into the hoodie.

To Angel, it was cute finding you curled up on the couch in his clothes. Filled him with a lot more love than he thinks he’d ever be able to show you but he’d be damned if he didn’t try every now and then to do so. It also made him want to fuck you in them until you could only say his name and were creaming all over him 

But seeing you now, curled up as small as you could make yourself and likely a hairsbreadth away from startle to cry, he knew that wasn’t what you needed, so before he did anything he walked back up to your room, changed out of his clothes and put on some grey sweats, forgoing the shirt. 

It wasn’t long before he was standing in front of you, blocking your view of the candle and watching, slightly amused as you blinked and trailed your eyes up his legs, stopping briefly on his very obvious dick print before they trailed up his chest and then to his face before meeting his eyes.

“Move, I wanna lay down.” He says without much else, watching the small smile make its way to her face, likely about to say something, before he decided to make his way on to the couch. His girl was small, fun size, a huffing voice sounding very much like yours said in his head, and that made her easy to just pick up and carry around. So he did just that. Picked her up and then stretched himself out on the couch, before sitting her on top of him. The annoyed huff she let out was followed shortly by giggling 

“Excuse me, I was laying there.” She says and he scoffs. 

“Nah, mami, you were curled up like a little kitten.” He says and smirks, “Big difference.”  

The pout on her face is cute and he can’t help but laugh, as he brings her down to place a kiss on her lips. 

“Rude, mi amor. Very rude.” You says, quickly getting comfortable, hiding her face in his neck as his arms wrap around her in a tight embrace. And when he thinks you’re gonna be quiet, and just enjoy being in his arms, you lift your head up, eyes narrowed at him. “Also, who the fuck gave you permission to look like such a fucking thot, huh? Wearing my favorite grey sweats without my permission.” 

It made him laugh, his arms tightening around you a little more but not enough to hurt you. 

“Hush up, mi dulce, you Ain’t one to talk. Wearing them fucking leggings.” He’s  quick to move his hands down to your tights clad ass and squeezing before he lands one hard smack on each cheek, causing you to yelp and then giggle as he brings his arms back around you rubbing up and down your back slightly before embracing you again. 

“Alright, fair point.” You say, looking up at him, your eyes full of love, and if humanly possible you’d likely have hearts for pupils whenever you stared at him. You kiss at his neck and what you can reach of his jaw for a few before you just decide to lay there, the song once again restarting.

Angel lays there, just listening to you breath, feeling you inches arms, and he doesn’t know what he’d do without you, nor where he’d be. You were one of the few constants in his life. The one person he knew he could always count on to have his back and support him and he loved you for it. Always will. And hearing your even breathing on his neck, the small puffs of air warm against his neck only certified his resolve to make sure nothing ever happened to you, that he never did anything to hurt you. At least not intentionally. He knew he’d found forever with you. And he wouldn’t trade it for anything. 

Listening to the song playing, he sang along so quietly he doubted you could hear him, aware of your sleepy state:

Yo quisiera darte las constelaciones

Más millones de caricias en un manantial (yeh)

Si te fallo quiero que no me perdones (no)

Porque no mereces que nadie te trate mal

Tu presencia es necesaria por razones

Que hasta el sol de hoy no encuentro ni cómo explicar

Pero estoy agradecido por montones

Porque te encontré cuando no hallaba qué buscar

Tu cabello se posa sobre mi pecho

Y es valioso el hecho de sentirte respirar

Lo creas o no, me siento satisfecho

Pues, tú me mostraste lo importante que es amar

Tus ojos me reflejan el sentimiento

Justo en tus pupilas se deduce que es real (real)

Si no quieres decir nada dame un beso (dame un beso)

Y no me sueltes nunca más

Me siento fenomenal

Porque siento que es real 

Listening to him sing the words so quietly, nearly sounding like a prayer to you, warmed your heart, and the tight feeling present in your chest from the moment you woke up seemed to just evaporate as you felt his arms tighten their hold on you, one arm staying around you and the other traveling up to card his fingers through your hair, his lips against the top of your head. And you couldn’t help yourself:

“Te amo, Angel Ignacio Reyes. Hoy y Para Siempre.” You said, with a slight squeeze of your own arms around him before you gave in to the tiredness you’d felt for hours now. Knowing you were safe. 

Slipping away into unconsciousness, you smiled as you heard his reply. 

“Te amo, Y/N Y/M/N Reyes. Hoy y Para Siempre.”

_______________________________________________

Tags: @calif0rnia-lovers I saw you post something about being tagged in anything involving hoodie szn or just hoodies in general I think @blessedboo @angelreyesgirl

Please lemme know if you want to be tagged(or if not)🥺🥺 also I hope you enjoy it!! Comments and creative criticism welcomed🥰🥰🥰

[aleator]

day 09 - royalty au (thor/tony)

Once every ten years, Ironfell hosts a grand tournament, and knights come from all over the kingdom to get a chance to face off against one another. It is a great honor to simply compete in this tournament, but for the lucky and talented knight who wins, he is permitted one wish he may ask the king to grant him.

Most winners wish to be granted a position in the royal guard, while others wish for a title and a plot of land, or for some fair lady’s hand in marriage. Tony has only presided over this tournament once, a few years into his reign as king, but he witnessed it several times prior under the rule of his father, King Howard.

Now it’s Tony’s turn again ten years later and the whole city is a flurry of activity and excitement. The tournament lasts for a week and many people come from far off to watch as well, not just to compete.

Which leaves Tony a very busy man in the weeks leading up to the tournament. Thankfully he has his council and advisors to help, but most importantly he has Thor, his favorite knight. Not that he plays favorites with the royal guard, of course. That wouldn’t look good for him and his attempt to be a fair and just ruler.

“You should have worn the red cloak,” Thor says first thing upon seeing Tony the morning of the start of the tournament. “Makes you look more regal.”

“Good morning to you too,” Tony replies, tugging at the clasp on his dark blue cloak. “How’s the crowd out there?”

“Excitable. It’s been a long year. The people could use some proper entertainment.”

Tony adjusts his clasp again, frowning at his reflection in a nearby mirror. “Then we’ll have to keep them entertained.”

Thor reaches out and gently takes Tony’s hand away from his cloak, then adjusts the clasp for him. Tony stands still while Thor does that, then looks at himself in the mirror again.

“Thank you.”

“Still would be better in red.”

Tony laughs and motions for Thor to follow him down to the main hall so they can get the celebration started.

The king traditionally gives a speech at the opening ceremony, so Tony opens the first day of the tournament with a rousing speech about honor and good fortune and courage, all the usual stuff the crowd likes to hear before they watch people do fancy tricks and hit each other with sticks. Then he’s led to his special box seat at the arena. With both parents now passed away, it’s just him and the head of his guard, Sir James, in the royal box with a few important dignitaries from neighboring kingdoms.

The tournament begins with much cheering and fanfare as the knights are introduced to Tony and the crowd. Some he knows are from nearby, others are from the outer edges of the kingdom, but there’s one knight he doesn’t recognize at all, a man in red armor on a pure white horse, whose only name given is the Lionheart.

The crowd is instantly abuzz with speculation on the secret identity of this mysterious knight, but the tournament does not stop even for gossip. The first day of challenges are mostly archery displays, with knights showing off tricks and skills more suited for showmanship than battle.

A feast for all ends each day of the tournament, so by the end of the first day the crowd is well enthused for its continuation. Tony does his duty as host in the main hall of the castle, though he can’t help looking around for the mysterious Lionheart, who does not seem to be in attendance.

“Who could this Lionheart be, do you think?” Tony asks Thor as his knight walks with him through the halls of the castle up to his chambers after the feast. “He seems skilled with the bow, but I’ve never heard of him before.”

“Perhaps he is foreign,” Thor offers, and Tony hums thoughtfully. While there is no rule banning foreign competitors, the few foreign knights who do join usually announce their presence, not hide behind a mask and a false name.

“He must not have a noble patron backing him,” Tony decides after a few moments consideration. “Why else would he not share such information?”

“Perhaps,” Thor says again, though Tony remains too caught up in his thoughts to pay him much mind.

“I suppose we will see how he does in the rest of the tournament,” Tony says at last. He nods to Thor as they reach the door to his chambers, and Thor nods back. “Good night, Thor.”

“Sleep well, Your Majesty,” Thor says, as he always says every night before Tony retires for bed.

The next few days were reserved for jousting matches, both individual performances against wooden dummies and one-on-one matches between knights. The real winner of the tournament would be the knight who triumphed in the melee on the last day, but lesser prizes would be given out to those who performed well in the jousts.

Despite the impressive display of skill from all involved, Tony can’t help being mesmerized by the red knight’s performance. Like with his archery, his talents on horseback and skill with the javelin and lance are seemingly unmatched. Much of the crowd seems taken with this mysterious knight, and Tony wonders if he’ll be the one to win the tournament overall.

“I would have thought your favor would be with Sir Steven,” Thor replies when Tony says as much the evening before the final day of competition. “He is one of your own knights.”

“Of course,” Tony says with a flippant wave of his hand. “But he’s curious, is he not? He disappears before every feast and only reappears at the start of the next day’s tournament. Why not join in the celebration?”

“Keeping his identity a secret must be more important,” Thor suggests.

“Well, if he does win the tournament, he’ll have to reveal himself,” Tony says with an un-kingly huff. Just one more reason he’s maybe secretly hoping that the red knight wins.

The next morning, as the knights prepare for the grand melee, Tony decides to hell with it and puts on his red cloak. Yet Thor is nowhere to be seen, and Tony walks down to the main hall alone that morning.

For the final day of the tournament, all the knights battle it out in the arena on foot with their preferred choice in weapon. Though it’s a free-for-all, the rules of chivalry still stand, and all weapons must be modified to prevent fatalities. Knights who have been defeated must bow out until there is only one man remaining--the true tournament victor.

The red knight strides into the ring with a simple war hammer in hand, which is a curious choice, in Tony’s opinion. A war hammer can do a lot of damage in battle, but it’s small and unimpressive for such a spectacle as this.

That doesn’t seem to slow the red knight down at all, for as soon as the battle begins he takes down his first opponent with ease. As the knights clash against one another and the crowd cheers, Tony only has eyes for the red knight, hands gripping the arms of his chair tightly with each close call the red knight has.

When the dust clears at the end of the battle, the last man remaining is none other than the red knight, Lionheart.

The crowd goes wild, everyone thoroughly taken by this mysterious challenger who appeared out of nowhere and swept the tournament. Tony stands and approaches the railing of his box as the red knight crosses the arena to kneel in the dirt before Tony.

“Rise, Lionheart, for you have proven yourself worthy on this day,” Tony says imperiously for all to hear. “Remove your helm and speak what you wish bestowed upon you as a prize.”

The red knight does not stand, nor does he remove his helmet. Instead, in his deep voice he says,

“I wish for your hand in marriage, Your Majesty.”

The sudden murmur of the crowd is so loud that Tony almost doesn’t think he heard the request right. Nobody has ever asked for anything like this before. It’s not as if he’s some poor nobleman’s daughter to be offered up in exchange for good standing. He’s a king! Such impertinence from someone who refuses to even share his real name.

Frowning, he motions for the knight to remove his helmet once more. “If that is your wish, then I bid you again, reveal yourself.”

This time the knight does stand, and the crowd seems to collectively hold its breath as he reaches up to remove his helmet. Instead of the mysterious red knight, now only Thor stands in his place, knight of the Ironfell royal guard.

“I told you red’s your color,” Thor says to him, and Tony lets out a surprised exclamation, gripping the railing of the royal box before he collapses from shock.

“I fear you might be right,” Tony replies, his laughter disbelieving but his smile wide. “I hope it’s your color too, since you’ll be wearing it a lot more soon.”

“Your Majesty?” Thor says, looking hopefully up at him.

“You won the tournament fair and square, and thus your wish will be granted.”

In yet another unkingly move, Tony hops the short railing of his spectator box and jumps down from the low platform his box sits upon, stumbling a bit on the landing. As is chivalrous, Thor immediately drops his helmet and hammer to go and catch Tony before he falls in the dirt. Then, somewhat less chivalrously, Thor kisses him soundly, all of the background noise of the tournament fading away as Tony loops his arms around Thor’s neck and kisses him back.

Perhaps, Tony thinks, the final day’s feast can double as a wedding.

[noladyme]

Chess. Chapter 4

Y/N never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. She only took what she needed, or what she felt others needed. She’d stayed out of sight for a long time, avoiding anything that could get her in to too much trouble. But for some reason Rick Flag shows up in her life, and in an instant, everything changes.

TW: violence, blood, language

I was taken to a shower room. With no other exit than the door we came in through, it seemed the Tweedles felt it would be safe enough to leave me alone in there.

I showered for an eternity. The water was hardly warm, and it smelled moldy in the room, but I didn’t care. I let the water run over me, scrubbed every inch of my body with a bar of soap on a string. I ran my hand down my injured ribs, and winced at the pain. Remembering Flags hand touching that same spot but an hour before, I smiled to myself. His touch then had been gentle, and my mind wandered into a more pleasant direction. A bang on the door interrupted my train of thought.

“Finish up!”, a voice called. I turned off the water.

A clean set of clothes had been laid out. Another tank top, this one not cut into pieces, a clean set of underwear, and a pair of orange pants, with much too long legs for me. I folded them up, to right bellow my knees, and finally put on the slip-on shoes that completed the outfit.

Calling out, I let the twins know I was ready.

After eating the mac’n’cheese and jello that was pushed through the hatch in the door, I slept deeper than I ever had, on the small cot that had appeared in my cell, while I was being questioned – or recruited, I wasn’t sure which it was. The last thing I saw before drifting of, was loose wire hanging from the corner of the ceiling, where the thermal camera had once been. I wasn’t being watched anymore.

---

I woke up to the sound of the door being unlocked; I sprang up from where I had been laying, fully awake, and on high alert. Two guards stepped in to the room. Not Flags men.

What the fuck is this?, I panicked, and took a stance, preparing for a fight.

Grabbing me by the wrists, they spun me around, locking my arms behind me. They held me like this, as Griggs stepped into the room, and looked me up and down.

“You look even better clean, puss”, he leered at me.

I lifted my knee, and stomped down onto the foot of the guard to my right. Letting go of my arm, he yelped; and I swung my arm, punching Griggs in the face.

Covering his mouth with a scream, he then slapped me hard, making my ears ring.

“You goddamn bitch”, he said, blood running from his busted lip. I laughed at him; and made to get another hit in, when the second guard holding me, kicked me behind my knee; making me lose balance, and topple over.

Laying face down on the ground, someone put a knee on my back, holding me down, as my ankles and wrists were put in cuffs. Spewing all of the worst profanities I knew, I then twisted my neck, biting at the guard holding down my shoulders. I narrowly missed him, and another hand held my head down, making my forehead meet the concrete.

“Watch it, dumbass. We need her whole!”, Griggs spat. He pulled a sack over my head.

They carried me like this, down the corridor, as I screamed and cussed. This isn’t supposed to happen, I thought. Where’s Flag? Waller, even?.

I hadn’t officially accepted Wallers “offer” of joining her circus. Was this payback for my little stunt yesterday? Was I being sent back to Gotham? Or were they taking me somewhere to end my suffering.

A sharp pain in my ribs – from a boot, I figured – made me consider whether euthanasia wouldn’t be a kinder fate.

A door opening and closing behind us. The temperature changed. The air was damp, and the sack on my head stuck to my skin, making it difficult to breathe.

I heard the sound of a gate opening. “Freak transport”, Griggs voice called. Laughing.

Another door. I was made to stand, and my feet were uncuffed. I heard the sound of hip hop music. More musical torture? Metallic clanking, and I was pushed forward harshly, almost falling over.

“Get that shit of her”, Flags voice said. Thank God.

“Careful. This one has sharp teeth”, Griggs said; and someone pulled the sack of my head.

Blinking, adjusting to the light; I examined the room. About 100 yards deep, 50 yards wide. From the looks of it, an old indoor basketball court. My calculations turned out to be right, as a tall, dark man, wearing the same outfit as my own, was shooting hoops at the end of the room, never missing one throw. He turned in my direction, and looked at me, then Griggs busted lip, and laughed to himself.

In one corner a large figure, wearing a hoodie, sat with his back to me, watching BET on a small flat screen. In another, a man covered from head to toes in tattoos – I could tell, as he wasn’t wearing a shirt, or shoes – was doing pushups.

Flag walked up from behind me, staring me down.

“Welcome to the gym”. He took out a set of keys, and uncuffed my hands. “I can handle it from here”, he said to Griggs.

“Are you sure, sir? She seems cranky”, Griggs answered, and put his hand on the gun in his belt.

“I’m sure, asshole. If we need anything, I’ll let you know. Now get”.

“Dick”, Griggs muttered, and walked out the large door we had come through. The metallic sound started, and then made a last large clank, as it shut behind him and his guards.

Flag examined my face, and stroked his fingers across the small cuts on my forehead, from my former spat with the guards.

“You need to be careful, kitten. I won’t always be around; so if you piss them off again, I might not be able to help you”.

“You weren’t there to help me this time, and I made out fine on my own”, I retorted.

Flag moved his hand down to my belly, looking at the blood on my top, lightly touching it.

“I can see that”, he said, removed his hand, and continued. “You ripped your stitches”.

“I’m fine”, I pouted.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is our newest team member”, Flag called out. “Y/N Y/L/N. Also known as Chess”.

The man with the basketball, turned around, and made a final throw over his shoulder; and the ball went straight into the hoop, then bounced away across the floor.

The tattooed man stopped his workout, and walked towards us.

“Croc, did you hear me? Get your ass over here”, Flag shouted.

The large figure turned of his television, got up, and walked towards us, pulling the hood off his head. For a second, I was tempted to run, or even do something as embarrassing as hide behind Flag. The tall mans face was covered in what looked like scales; and it took me a hot second to realize that was his actual skin.

Killer Croc. I’d heard of him.

“Don’t worry, cher’. I ain’t gonna bite”, he growled at me; showing his terrifying teeth, in what I guess was supposed to be a smile. In spite of his appearance and reputation; I instantly felt calmer, from his use of the cher’ endearment. It reminded me of Sammy.

Sammy. “What happened to the owner of the club?”, I asked, voice shaking.

“He’s fine”, Flag answered. “I bumped him on the head a bit, when he tried to stop me from going after you. But I left a large tip for him. He’ll be able to make next months payment to whichever scumbag is using their protection scheme on him”.

I exhaled, relieved.

“And my cats?”, I remembered, panic returning.

“Your neighbor has them. Don’t worry”.

Good. Selina was sweet, though a bit kooky; and she seemed to love cats, more than even I did.

“All your loose ends are tied up, and as long as you behave, they’ll stay that way”.

I raised my eyebrows at him. “You are using my cats to blackmail me?”, I asked.

“Yes”, he answered shortly, and smirked.

By now, the three men were gathered in front of me.

“Where the hell is Harley and Digger?”, Flag called.

“Harley had feminine things to do”, basketball guy answered, before being interrupted by a shrill voice.

“Flag! The british guy was watching me on the toilet again!”. A curvaceous but lean woman appeared in a doorway to my right. She was dragging the rugged looking unicorn man, by his ear; storming towards us.

“I’m Australian, you crazy bitch”, he yelped; and she yanked him by his ear to the ground, putting a foot on his neck.

“Whatever. Do it again, and I’ll punch you in your kangaroo pouch!”, the woman hissed, and kicked him in the chest, before walking over to us. Once she saw me, her face instantly went from murderous to gleeful, and she reached out her hand to greet me.

“Harley Quinn. Pleased to make your acquaintance”, she said; grabbing my hand, and pulling me in to a tight hug.

Surprised, I simply patted her back, and then pulled away.

“You smell nice”, she whispered in my ear, before stepping back to join the others.

I was suddenly terrified and ecstatic at once. The queen of Gotham. It was like meeting actual royalty; if that royalty was crazy as hell, and had access to weapons.

They stood there; a motley crew of deadly weirdos, smiling and/or grimacing at me.

“Diablo. Deadshot. Killer Croc. Harley Quinn. Captain Boomerang. This is Chess”.

Basketball mans – correction, Deadshots – eyes lit up.

“You’re the invisible girl”.

“That’s her”, Flag answered.

“Can you talk for yourself, mami?”, asked the tattooed man – Diablo.

“I always thought a woman should be seen and not heard”, said Digger.

I smiled, disappeared, and the next thing he knew, he was back on the floor, wincing in pain, from my knee on his back. I leant towards his ear, still invisible.

“Are you sure about that?”, I purred, and dug my nails into the skin of his neck.

He yelped, turning around quickly; and I fell back, landing on my butt, before I sprang up, to stand next to Flag. Only then I made myself visible again.

Digger scrambled to get to his feet, and stepped towards me; a sneer on his face.

Flag stepped in front of me spreading his arms, as if protecting me. What is up with this guy?, I thought.

Deadshot stepped forward to face Digger, and Croc took a hold of his arms, holding him in place.

“Stay cool, man”, Deadshot said. “Looks like we’re going to be working with this lady now, so you need to back of”.

Digger settled down, but not before shooting me a look I couldn’t figure out whether was angry, or strangely aroused.

Flag turned to face me. “That wasn’t very smart”, he smiled.

“What? He has a mouth on him”, I answered.

“The last guy who used that sentence, lost his spot on this team in a pretty bad way. The spot you are now going to fill”. He went to stand next to me again, folding his arms across his torso.

“What happened to him?”, I asked.

“We don’t talk about it”, Harley pouted. “It was kind of gross. Speaking of which! Did you get yours yet?”. She sprang forward, putting her hand on my neck, as if searching for something.

“That’s the next step”, Flag said. He reached for his belt, and pulled out a strange looking gun.

None of the crew in front of me would look me in the eyes. Only Deadshot furrowed his brow, and kept eye contact with me; then pushing his lips into a thin line, before mouthing sorry.

Flag put the gun to my neck, and before I had time to react with anything more than a gasp, he pulled the trigger, and a sharp pain – there one second, gone the next – spread throughout the skin around the wound he’d made.

He let me go, lowered the gun, before meeting my eyes with a pained look. “It’s official”, he said, and put the gun into its holster.

I stood there. Mouth agape. Confused.

Deadshot stepped forward, patted my shoulder once, and then walked back towards the basketball.

“Welcome to the Suicide Squad”, he called out, made a shot, and the ball went into the hoop again.

Tag list:

@gloriousgam3r

@hyp-oh-critical

[lololil]

Requested by @nachtumringt from this prompt list - the way you said “I love you”. I appreciate you greedy being, thank you for the request. I hope you’ll enjoy it. 🍃✨

2. With a hoarse voice under the blankets

Lucas doesn’t know when it became love. Maybe it always has been. He remembers seeing Eliott for the first time, a clumsy little boy carrying boxes into the house next door. The feeling in his belly - like infinite little stings - and the heat spreading through his tiny body were definitely something new.

He even asked his maman what it meant, afraid he might have had an allergic reaction, but she just smiled and kissed his forehead. “One day you’ll know, mon chérie.” But he wasn’t sure he wanted to know, it may have been warm and fuzzy, but it was prickling, urgent. “Now, don’t you want to go meet the new neighbors? Take them this.” She stuffed his short arms with a basket filled with fruits and some sweets. He wasn’t sure he wanted to go, of course he wished to see the boy again, but what if that weird feeling ate him up?

If only had he known...

The feeling did, in fact, eat him up. To the point each two of three thoughts in his head would be about Eliott - that’s the boy’s name.

And now, twelve years later, they are in the exact same position. Lucas observing him from his house, analyzing how his muscles contract differently with each movement, how the breeze makes his strands dance around, how his eyes shine even though the sun decided to stay hidden behind the dense clouds. Boxes are being carried, but this time from the house and into the car. Eliott’s car. The one he will drive away in first thing in the morning, away to college. Away from Lucas.

Funny thing is, he did find out what that feeling he felt so many years back was. But now he has only been left with his chest ripped open, his heart sore, imploding, bleeding. 

Eliott’s eyes catch his and he can’t help but smile. His friend looks worried, lifting his shoulders with a clear question what is it. Lucas shakes his head and Eliott, as the stupidly perfect boy he is, starts running towards Lucas with a childish jog despite his huge limbs.

“What’s wrong?” Eliott asks, keeping his hands behind his back.

“Nothing! I was smiling!” He points to his own mouth and makes an exaggeratedly fake grin. “See?” Eliott huffs and takes one hand to Lucas’ hair, playing with it.

“Dumbass.”

“Yes, I guess we’ve established that that is my role in this relationship.” He points to both of them and something shines in Eliott’s eyes.

“I have something for you.” Lucas’ features brighten and he jumps excitedly. He was always incapable of feeling down around Eliott.

“What is it?” Eliott laughs and takes his hand from behind his back. Presenting Lucas with a stuffed raccoon. The raccoon. “What? Eliott, you can’t give me this. I already have my hedgehog.” And well it was kind of ridiculous, but they had bought them when they were younger, Lucas only agreed because Eliott had the most gorgeous smile on his face and he wanted it to last a bit longer.

“Yes, but I want you to have it. Please. So you can remember me when you look at it.” He looks taken aback, bashful, and it’s so honest and so sweet Lucas could kiss him. God, he wants to kiss him.

It’s not like I could spend a minute without thinking of you he almost says. “Ok. But only if you take my hedgehog.” Eliott smiles so angelically it’s hard to breathe.

“Ok.” He agrees and Lucas takes the stuffed animal giving it his all not to squeeze it. “You are cute.” It isn’t unusual for Eliott to say random stuff like this and Lucas never knows what to do. Obviously, his immediate response is always a heat accompanied by a deep crimson spreading through his features.

“Okay, please don’t. Come on, we still have a lot to do before you leave.” Eliott ruffles his hair once more and takes Lucas’ shoulder, leading them into the latter’s house.

***

Hours later, after spending the evening rewatching all their favorite movies, they are in Lucas’ bedroom, tucked under his covers, talking. This is one of the things Lucas loves the most, spending time next to Eliott talking about everything and nothing. Just existing next to him.

After they’ve settled in a comfortable silence, Eliott turns his body in Lucas’ direction and they stare at each other before Eliott starts talking.

“Do you remember how we used to read stories under the covers?” Lucas laughs.

“How could I forget.” Indeed, how could he. Eliott wiggles his eyebrows.

“So, wanna do it again? For old times sake?”

“For old times sake.” Lucas imitates him exaggeratedly. “Gosh, you are just a big baby and want excuses to read child books.” Excuses, just excuses. It’s what came to Lucas’ mind instead of running to get under the covers just to be closer to Eliott.

“I don’t see any kids' books around here. Do you? I mean, it is your bedroom, so if there were I guess that would make you the big baby.”

“Oh shut up and just get under the blankets.” And it’s beautiful, how Eliott beams with excitement. Just like a child.

“Ah, I’ll just get my phone, because I know how you get. Afraid of the dark and stuff.” At that, Lucas has no choice other than roll his eyes and tackle Eliott onto the mattress. Wrong choice, they end up close, really close, and Lucas has to strain himself not to join their lips. He quickly goes under the covers and Eliott follows after, turning his lantern on. “Excited, are we?” He teases, but Lucas is too entranced by the way the light reflects on Eliott’s features to respond. “For someone so opposed to the idea you sure got down here pretty fast.”

“Jesus, shut up!” Lucas says kicking him maybe a bit harder than necessary, making Eliott let out a high pitched squeal and they both burst out laughing. Their bodies squirm and it gets harder to breathe under all the blankets but none of them dare to resurface.

The laughter dies gradually, disappearing into a stuffed silence. Through the badly lit space, he can see Eliott. He seems lost in thoughts.

“Lucas, I’m scared.” He whispers, the light barely hitting his face, but Lucas can still see the deep worry in his eyes, how they are darker than usual, heavier. And how Lucas wants to touch him, take this feeling away, make that beautiful smile appear on Eliott’s face again. “I don’t want to lose you.” Eliott’s voice sounds broken and a shiny tear travels down his cheek, making a perfect trail to his mouth. Lucas follows its path with his thumb, drying it softly. Eliott’s skin is so warm under his hand.

“You could never lose me.” Eliott closes his eyes, creasing his eyebrows. More tears slide down his face. “It’s true.” Lucas can’t stand this, so he gets closer, until their noses touch. And Eliott opens his eyes, pupils blown. “You will never lose me.” They stare at each other, minutes spent looking at the galaxy that is Eliott’s eyes.

“Lucas.” His voice is only a tone louder than a whisper, a soft hoarse to it. He backs up a little, his hand traveling up to cup Lucas’ jaw. Eliott studies his face for a minute, eyes landing on each and every spot of Lucas’ features before they return to his eyes. “I love you.” All his thoughts get blurred, he can’t command his body to move, he can’t do anything except from widening his eyes in utter shock. He had wished to hear those words coming from Eliott’s mouth with that meaning countless times, but he never really expected it to happen.

Eliott must sense Lucas’ inability to form any coherent sound, so he lands a kiss on his cheek, it’s warm and sends a shiver down Lucas’ body. “I love you.” A croaky whisper against the skin there. His mouth travels to Lucas’ ear, warm lips caressing it. “I love you, Lucas.” He lets out with a warm puff and realigns their heads, trailing his thumb across Lucas’ lips and capturing the lower one. Lucas wants to bite it. “Can I kiss you?” He asks. Grave.

Lucas wants to scream yes, finally. But his brain is still short circuiting from the revelation, so he just joins their lips. It’s far better than he could have ever dreamt of. Warm like a summer breeze, but as refreshing as inspiring winter air.  They move in perfect synchrony, pulling desperately at each other, their bodies touching completely. It’s like they have been doing this forever. Might as well have been.

Lucas has to part, words finally coming back to him.

“I love you, Eliott.” The boy smiles, dumbfounded. It’s a beautiful image and the duvet over their heads with the dim light makes it even more magical. “God, I love you. So much.” Eliott lets out a laugh, maybe a bit relieved, and pulls Lucas on top of him, their mouths join again, no sight in detaching.

***

The next day, when Eliott leaves, Lucas still feels like a part of him has been ripped. Like maybe a vital organ is missing. But at least now he knows what Eliott’s mouth tastes like, what it feels like to touch and be touched. And that, that is something nothing can take away.

And now, when everything seems too much, they can always go back under the blankets. Just the two of them. Stolen peace in the middle of chaos.

[seagreen-meets-grey]

When Lightning Strikes Ch. 20

When your life is nothing but a cloudless sky, lightning can come and strike you so unexpectedly, you won’t even know what hit you.

Or: When Hiccup and Astrid meet, it is as if lightning strikes.

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13] [Chapter 14] [Chapter 15] [Chapter 16] [Chapter 17] [Chapter 18] [Chapter 19]

Crossposted on ao3 and ff.net

(Last round, everyone!)

_______________

The pub wasn’t very crowded on a Wednesday night. Maybe a third of the tables and half the stools at the bar were occupied. Indie-Rock music was coming from the speakers, a backdrop to clinking glasses and pleasant conversations in seemingly countless languages.

Outside the windows, the setting sun was largely hidden behind clouds, but darkness was yet to set in. The lights in the pub were slightly dimmed to create a cozy atmosphere, accentuated by the Nordic decorations and laughter all around.

It was pleasantly warm inside, a stark contrast to the chilly air of late October, with cold winds coming in from the sea.

“Yes! Bullseye!” Astrid went to pull her three arrows out of the dartboard and accepted the two bottles of Kaldi Blonde, a local Icelandic beer, from Hiccup as he took his turn. They were standing in a corner of the pub, competing in their third game of darts. After she’d won the first two rounds, he was determined to win this one. But he would have to catch up to her first. The first arrow hit the triple twenty and he cheered, throwing her a victorious smirk.

“Don’t celebrate too soon, I’m still ahead of you!”

“Oh no, I’m going to destroy you,” he countered, squinting at the board and shifting his stance a little. With one smooth throw, the arrow landed slightly higher to the right of the first one, counting one point.

“Ha!”

He stuck out his tongue at her in response as he lined up his third throw. An excited buzz was flowing through her veins, mind completely at ease and a warm feeling in her chest – the usual for spending time with her boyfriend. She noticed him making his cute, concentrated face where he pressed his lips together and dedicated his entire focus in a single direction. Hiccup threw the arrow and for a split-second, it looked like it would hit another triple twenty, but it bounced off the first arrow and flew through the room.

She laughed at his wide-eyed expression as he scrambled after the arrow and crawled underneath a table to retrieve it.

“Did the board count that?” he asked as he poked his head out between two chairs.

“Nope,” she answered after a quick look at the electric board, “and I’m still ahead of you!”

He was grumbling something as he stood again, wiping a bit of dust off his arrow, and she was raising her bottle to her lips with a grin when she suddenly stopped mid-motion. Hiccup came to take the beers from her so she could start her turn, but then frowned at her. “What is it?”

A thought had just occurred to her, hitting her right in the chest, spreading through her entire body like electrically charged lava. She met his quizzical eyes, so green in the dimmed lights of the pub. Even after all this time, they still had the same effect on her.

“Astrid?” He briefly touched her still raised hand to get her attention and the same old spark jumped over her skin as if he was touching her for the first time. It was as if she had taken off the thick glasses that made everything look hazy – no, she realized, she’d taken them off quite some time ago, but only now had she noticed. Everything was clear all of a sudden, and she felt light, her heart jumping into her throat.

“Let’s get married,” she blurted out, a huge grin spreading on her face.

“W-what?” Hiccup was taken aback, staring at her with a slight gape.

“Let’s get married,” she repeated.

“You- But- I- Why—” he stammered, a million thoughts scurrying over his expression.

She crossed her arms. “Well, why do you think?”

He blinked, still in surprise. “You… You changed your mind? When?”

“Just now.”

Slowly, his gape morphed into a wide, blinding smile as he scooped her up in his arms and spun her around before setting her down again and holding her close, foreheads pressed together. She almost forgot about the drinks in her hand, nearly dropping the bottles. “And you’re really sure about this?”

“Yes.” Goosebumps broke out over her entire body as she looked into his eyes and saw her reflection in them mirror the unbridled joy and love building and crashing between them like a tsunami wave. Why had she taken so long to realize her fears had been stupid all along? Sure, they had come from a real place, but in this very moment, past Astrid was nothing more than a ghost fading into nothingness somewhere in the smallest corner of present Astrid.

“Okay,” he whispered. “Okay, let’s do it.”

Without breaking eye contact, she set the beers down on the next table and kissed him, long and deep, before grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the exit. “Let’s do it!”

He hesitated, stopping after a few steps. “What, you mean right now?”

“Yeah.” She furrowed her brows. “I’m sure there’s some place in Reykjavík that marries people.”

“Um… Astrid, this isn’t Vegas. You can’t just go to a nearby chapel, sign a form and get hitched.”

“You don’t know unless you go look for it.” She crossed her arms, a shadow falling over her boundless excited energy. “And then, once we find something, we can go first thing tomorrow and–”

“First thing tomorrow? I don’t think it’s that easy, hon.” He tried a smile, but it only flickered shortly before disappearing again. “Like I said, this isn’t Vegas. We’re on a completely different continent than Vegas. We can’t just go and get married.”

“Since when are you such a pessimist?”

“What? I’m not a pessimist, I’m being realistic here.”

She smiled lopsidedly. “Since when are you a realist? Where’s my there’s-no-way-we-can’t-train-the-neighbor’s-dog-to-bring-us-the-newspaper-Hiccup?”

He shrugged with one shoulder but didn’t answer, glancing right past her, not meeting her eyes. Her shoulders sagged along with her excitement. “You don’t want to.”

“I do! I really do!” he hurried to say. “But…”

“But what?” she inquired when he trailed off.

With slow steps, he reached her, taking her hands in his. “Look. Why don’t we wait until we’re back home?”

“Why? Why not go and at least scout our options? I thought you of all people would agree there.”

He took a deep breath. “Because I want you to have a chance to change your mind.”

Surprised, she took a step back. “Why would I change my mind? This was my idea!”

“I… I don’t…” He struggled to find the right words for a minute. “I don’t want you to go through with something you realize you don’t want after all, just because you made a decision and are too stubborn to admit it’s not what you want.”

“But I just said–”

“I don’t want you to regret your decision,” he said with a pressing look in his eyes that conveyed more than his words did, and she understood. She’d once made a decision she’d regretted later on – in a very similar context. Despite her initial disappointment and correlating annoyance, she felt a stream of liquid cocoa encircle her heart like a moat.

She leaned her head against his shoulder and squeezed his hands. After a moment, she felt him relax, his chin resting on her head. For his consideration alone, she wanted to drag him through the city and find at least Reykjavík’s city hall. But as much as she wanted to elope right here, right now, she could wait. Besides, they were going to be here for another two weeks, that was plenty of time she could use to change his mind.

With a small sigh, she lifted her head and pecked his cheek. “Alright. Now let me continue with destroying you at darts.”

Hours later, when they were lying in their hotel bed, she couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned, squeezing her eyes shut until she felt dizzy, but to no avail. Not even Hiccup’s calm breathing next to her and the peaceful expression on his face were helping, and that usually lulled her to sleep like nothing else could. But not tonight.

Reaching over to the nightstand, she turned on her phone and blinked at the sudden bright light. Darkening the screen as far as possible, she typed a few key words into the search bar and spent the next hour researching. And Hiccup had been right. This wasn’t Vegas. She needed documents, not just copies but originals, and she needed time, two weeks in advance at the bare minimum. And money, too. And rings. And a warm dress and tux. And an officiant. And a place.

Now, some of those things weren’t that hard to obtain, and the costs weren’t nearly as high as she’d feared (seriously, she’d paid more for their big fridge), but she’d have to hand in all the necessary documents immediately if she wanted to make this possible. But as long as Hiccup wasn’t on board, for whatever reason, she could forget about the whole thing.

Swallowing her disappointment, she put her phone aside and turned to look at her boyfr– no, wait, fiancé! She and Hiccup were engaged now! Not with an official ring, but what did that matter? Engaged meant engaged. They both agreed to marry the other. To spend a life together, not just in practice, but in every sense of the word. Officially, legally, bindingly, finally.

The buzzing returned to her chest, and suddenly, it was easy to sink into her pillow and fall asleep. Because just as easily, she realized that time and place didn’t matter. They could always come back or travel somewhere else to get married. Hell, they could pay a few bucks to someone at the airport and take care of any legal requirements later – weren’t pilots allowed to marry people? Or did that only apply to ship captains? But before she could finish that thought, she was already out like a light.

All of her nightly deliberation, though, couldn’t stop her from not-so-coincidentally walking past a shop for wedding clothes on their stroll through the city the next day. Hiccup just shook his head with a fond smile and followed her inside. She could already look, right? And there was no way she’d wear the same dress to her second wedding.

She wasn’t usually one to enjoy shopping for clothes like other women did – if she needed something, she’d go get it, not aimlessly walk through a hundred stores without purpose – this place felt like heaven. Maybe it stemmed from her excitement, maybe it was the rows upon rows of cream and white (and the occasional black or green) that made her feel like she was surrounded by clouds. Brocade, lace, tulle, ornaments with golden or silver threads woven in, all kinds of different lengths and sizes and cuts. She felt a little overwhelmed until she figured out the system in which the dresses were hung.

While Hiccup was chatting with a sales assistant somewhere over by the tuxedo pants, she walked past a row of short summer dresses, running her fingers through the layers of fabric, marveling at the needlework that must have gone into all the fine details in the adornments.

Turning a corner, she found the section for warmer clothes. Winter dresses with long sleeves and thick layers that still managed to look delicate, matching bolero jackets, thick tights that would be invisible underneath the beautiful skirts, even light winter boots that went with certain dresses. Astrid wanted to try them all on. But quickly running the numbers in her head and converting currencies, she had to turn her back on probably half the display.

With pleasant music in the background, a small table with water, orange juice, champagne and snacks nearby, and a friendly sales woman offering her assistance, Astrid figured it was a good thing she and Hiccup didn’t have any set plans for the rest of the day.

Edda, the sales woman, greeted her with an enthusiastic energy, rubbing her hands together and asking Astrid for her preferences. Then she weaseled back and forth between the rows, picking out dress after dress, matching jackets, scarfs, shoes, shawls, fur capes and elegant ponchos. Whenever Astrid had put on one dress, Edda was already back with another.

And they were all so, so beautiful. But they either didn’t quite fit, were too expensive, or just simply weren’t her style. About half an hour into their fitting session, Hiccup was waiting for her lounging in a chair when she came out of the fitting room in a long layered dress with puffy sleeves and a high collar, not unlike Lady Diana’s dress. It had looked great on its hanger (and on Lady Di), but on Astrid? Well, when Hiccup saw her and started laughing, she just rolled her eyes with a defeated sigh and didn’t even wait for Edda to come back before peeling herself out of the monstrosity.

Two hours passed with just the blink of an eye. For a while, she didn’t even see Hiccup in-between getting in and out of dresses. She wasn’t even sure if he was still in the store, but she couldn’t blame him. She was completely drained and had stopped counting after dress number twenty. Seemed like Edda could tell because she suggested a break when Astrid refused to give up and come back another day.

Downing an entire glass of champagne in one go, she wearily wiped a hand over her face. She wanted to find a dress, the sooner the better, because then she had more ammunition to throw at Hiccup who still insisted they didn’t get married until they were back home.

She put down her empty glass and strolled through the store, side-eyeing every dress she’d tried on so far. Some of them had been really pretty. Maybe if she took them to a tailor to make some last-minute changes…?

Just for the sake of it, she took a look at the dresses with the horrendously high price tags. From within the masses, a full-length, sleeveless white silk dress with a lace collar caught her eye. It had a broad sash with intricate Celtic-Nordic ornaments woven in with golden thread. It felt impossibly soft and looked incredibly comfortable. But what was worst was that it seemed to be her exact size.

“That is beautiful,” a voice behind her said and from out of nowhere, Hiccup reappeared. He stepped closer, running a hand up and down her back.

“Yeah,” she sighed and carefully hung it back. “But way too expensive.”

“You could try it on and I’ll convince Edda that you’re meant to have it because no other person will look as beautiful in it as you.” He rested his chin on her shoulder and hugged her from behind. “Maybe she’s superstitious, too, and will believe me when I tell her you’re a goddess or a fairy in disguise and this dress can be her offering to you.”

“Solid plan, babe,” she said with a grin. “You know what? I’ll try it on for you. And for me, because it’s gorgeous and I want to.”

“That’s the spirit.” He let go of her so she could take the dress back to the fitting room.

It was perfect.

For a full minute, she marveled at her own reflection in the huge mirror. The dress fit like a second skin, as if it had been made specially for her. She ran her hands over the fabric, so soft and of such a high quality, the price almost seemed too low, even.

She pulled the curtain aside and stepped out of the room, feeling like the goddess Hiccup had offered to sell her as. And boy, did he think the same, judging by the gape and the wide eyes and the adoring smile that spread over his face following the first shock.

“Wow.” His voice was almost breathless. “I… Wow. Now I want to make you an offering, oh mighty goddess of… of…” He trailed off, at a loss for words. Astrid took pride in being the only one who could cause that in him. (Well, she and one dress. But that was it.)

“Oh, you found one!” Neither she nor Hiccup had noticed Edda come back. “Turn around, let me see.” Astrid turned for Edda, the fabric flowing around her ankles. “Wonderful, wonderful!”

“But way too much…” Astrid fingered with the price tag, already heading back to the fitting room before she could do something stupid like empty her entire savings account for this, but Edda motioned for her to wait.

“This dress is part of our next big sale. If you’re still here two weeks from now, it can be yours for a third of the price. Provided that no one else buys it before you.”

Astrid bit her lip and exchanged a glance with Hiccup. If she already couldn’t have her impromptu wedding in Iceland, she at least wanted the dress.

“I’ll take that chance,” she announced, earning approving nods from both Edda and Hiccup.

Step one: check.

But Hiccup was stubborn. The following days, she kept talking his ear off about extending their vacation and finding a way to get their documents here without traveling back first.

“Astrid, we’re in a different country,” he argued. “Let’s go home first and, when the lenses of the romantic vacation are gone, see what’s the plan then.”

“I’m not going to change my mind, Hiccup, I don’t know how often I have to say that until you believe me.”

But he was relentless. Not even her ploy to convince him by trying on the dress every time they walked past the store worked. She even found matching warm shoes and a beautiful white faux-fur coat that looked like a cape with sleeves and made her feel like a Viking queen. She also knew what she’d do with her hair, picking out a flower crown from a florist and a matching one for Hiccup the first chance she got. But he kept talking about how they could find these things in Berk or maybe have them shipped home.

The only thing they did without hesitation was buy the rings. They’d just come back from a four-day trip across the island when they walked past a jeweler’s display window. Infected with a prenuptial spirit, they spent the rest of the afternoon in a café, hunched over Hiccup’s sketchbook, before they went back to order their own personalized wedding rings. It made the whole ordeal feel absolutely final, but their time on this vacation was slowly running out and Hiccup still didn’t budge. Which was frustrating.

And then, less than a week before the sale, the dress was gone. Along with their chance to just bribe someone to marry them without all the legal necessities. She was grumpy for the entire day.

The next morning, she had sort of accepted her fate, directing her energy into making plans with Hiccup for a winter wedding and a party once they got home. It wouldn’t be as soon as she’d hoped it could happen, and much of their plans hinged on it snowing a lot, but the buzzing excitement was back in no time. And with it, her good mood.

Which is why she didn’t waste any energy on what could have been when the last day of their vacation dawned. After breakfast at the hotel, they took their rental car outside the city and spent the day at the coast, walking hand in hand along the cliffs and picnicking down at the beach sheltered in the shadow of a tall rock formation, with sandwiches, cookies and a thermos of hot tea.

They watched the sunset up by the edge of a cliff, huddled closely together on their camping chairs, listening to the waves at the bottom of the cliff, climbing and crashing back down. The wind was subsiding and the clouds were parting, and Astrid felt as if she was at the edge of the world, just her and Hiccup. It was still cold, though, and she adjusted her hat and scarf to properly cover her ears and neck. Then she reached over and took Hiccup’s gloved fingers in hers, resting their hands on the arms of the adjoined chairs. She felt him squeeze her hand and look at her from the side.

“What?”

His expression was thoughtful. “You haven’t changed your mind yet?”

She sighed in fond exasperation and leaned her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes against a low sunbeam. “No, you muttonhead. I want to marry you. That has absolutely nothing to do with us being on vacation. I don’t know how that even got into that thick skull of yours.”

For a few minutes, he was quiet. Then he pressed a kiss to her temple and hesitantly leaned his head against hers. “Too bad that it did, because we could have been married by now.”

She sat up and socked him on the arm, ignoring his yelp. “Yes, we could have been! I could also have owned my perfect wedding dress by now.” She crossed her arms and added with a low grumble, “Let’s hope the rings are really done by tomorrow morning. I don’t want to pay a shipping fee if they aren’t, they were expensive enough already.”

“Don’t worry, I checked with them this morning, we can pick them up first thing tomorrow.”

The sun had almost completely disappeared behind the horizon when she glanced back at him, absentmindedly playing with his fingers. “Did you really think I’d change my mind about you?”

He shrugged, keeping his eyes trained on the endless sea. In the now quickly dying light, it became harder to read his expression. “It’s not like I didn’t believe you when you said you were sure about it. I just...” He went quiet again, lips pressed together, but she didn’t take her eyes off him, waiting for him to continue. Then he looked at her, and in the near-darkness, his eyes were like a beacon, shining with emotions, open and raw and honest and vulnerable.

“I guess I was afraid.”

“Of what? Me changing my mind?” She frowned.

“Yeah. I mean… What if you start feeling trapped again? Like this is not the life you want?” His voice was almost a whisper, almost part of the wind grazing their cheeks, painting them red. “When you realize marrying me was the wrong decision. You said you were sure, but wasn’t that what you’d thought last time?”

Oh. Oh. So that… That was…

“Oh, Hiccup.” She enveloped him with both arms and pressed a lingering kiss to his mouth. “You could have just said that, you know. Then I could have told you way earlier that you have absolutely nothing to worry about.”

“I know you love me,” he continued, “but you also loved Eret and–”

“Not like this,” she interrupted him. “With Eret, everything was... easy. Pleasant. When I looked at our relationship from the outside, it made sense. But it took me a long time to figure out that I needed so much more than that. I’ve told you many times how it felt when I met you. You turned everything I thought I knew about love upside down, and about what I wanted, what I needed. The only reason I didn’t marry you way earlier is a fear I now know is irrelevant. Because I know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and only you, only ever you.”

“Hm,” he made after a minute, trying a smile, “I guess your fear rubbed off on me a little.”

“It was a real fear, but like I said, I’m over it now. Because I know exactly what I want and because I know that it will be different this time, because I have not even the tiniest of doubts about you, I never had.” She regarded him with creased brows and a suddenly tight chest. “Do you?”

He vehemently shook his head. “No. I could have married you on the spot that day, you know, in the rain. I can’t imagine ever loving anyone else like that.”

“Good, then we’re on the same page. Next time, just talk to me, you muttonhead!”

A long sigh escaped him, as if he was releasing all the tension at once that he’d felt ever since she’d announced that she wanted to marry him, for real. “I’m sorry. I should have said something.”

“I know. It’s alright.” She leaned her head on his shoulder again, a starry sky above them the only light source for miles. One of the only clouds left in the sky gave way to the moon, or rather what little was visible of it, its crescent shape resembling a thin scythe.

“Good to know you’re still on board, though,” Hiccup mumbled and by the sound of it, he was far away with his thoughts.

Astrid fumbled her phone out of her pocket with stiff fingers, pulling up a weather forecast. “Looks like it’s gonna be a clear sky tonight. Hey, maybe we’ll finally get to see the lights!” It was one of the main reasons they’d chosen Iceland as their destination, after all. And so far, the sky had never been clear enough for the real experience.

“Yes, maybe.” Hiccup rose out of his chair with a groan. “But first, we should get back to the hotel, pack our suitcases, warm up, have dinner… Maybe not in that order.”

She hummed as she followed him back to the car, carrying her folded chair over one shoulder. “I’m sure we can think of a good way or two to warm ourselves up.”

_______________

After dinner, Astrid got a call from the jeweler that they could come pick up their rings immediately, even though they were already closed – someone would still be there to lock up, waiting for them. Hiccup offered to go get the rings while Astrid kept packing up their stuff. That didn’t take very long, though, as she was a very efficient packer, so she changed into her sweatpants and lounged on the bed while video-calling Ruffnut for a while.

Her phone was leaning against the lamp on the nightstand while charging, with Astrid sitting cross-legged on the bed, braiding and un-braiding her hair without paying much attention to what she was doing.

Ruff’s grand advice was to just put the rings on their fingers and call it a day. “No one cares about your signature on a piece of paper, dude. Just call yourself Mrs. Haddock from now on, or Mrs. Hofferson-Haddock, or call him Mr. Hofferson, whatever, who cares.”

“If we just wanted it to be symbolic, we could have done it already. But we want the real, official thing. The legal thing.”

Ruff let out a loud belch, crinkling the can of cheap beer in her hand. “Why? That sounds boring.”

Astrid repeatedly combed through a thick strand of hair that had a particularly large knot in it. With a frown, she picked loose hair from her clothes. “It’s not boring. It’s binding. Besides, there’s, like, a million other things that come with legal marriage. Like sharing property. Or tax benefits.”

“Tax benefits, huh? Maybe I should get married, too. Does your fiancé have any single friends? How about that Fishlegs guy? He’s nice.”

“Absolutely not! You cannot marry Fishlegs!

“Why not?” Ruffnut whined.

“Because like you said, he’s nice, and I don’t want you corrupting him. You can have Snotlout if you want, I think he’d be a much better match for you, anyway.”

“Eh.” Ruff shrugged. “He’s a little too small for my taste, but I guess for tax benefits, he’ll do.”

Astrid heard a key turn in the door. “Okay, Ruff, I gotta go now, Hiccup’s back. We’re gonna go see the northern lights.”

“A’ight, see ya. Send ring picks!”

“Sure. Bye, Ruff.” She leaned forward to end the call before shuffling around on the bed to face Hiccup. “That took a long time. What’s in the bag?” With him, he had a huge, plain white plastic bag that was closed with a zipper.

“First of all, I got the rings,” he said while taking off his shoes and jacket, carefully setting the bag down on the floor, leaning it against the wall when it tipped over. Whatever was inside, it had no particularly distinct shape.

“And what have you got in the bag?” She stood from the bed and walked over, but Hiccup caught her hand and pulled her back into the room.

“You’re very nosy. Rings first.”

There was a small black box in his hand. Inside, on a white velvet pillow, rested two silver bands. Carefully, he took them out, placing them in her palm. Hers had a tiny blue stone inserted and on the inside, Hiccup’s initials were engraved next to blank space where the date of their wedding would go once they knew when it was. His was adorned with a dark green stone and her initials. Surrounding the stone on each ring were very fine lines that made a pattern not unlike the one on the sash of what Astrid still considered her dress, although it would never be hers now.

She turned the rings, held them up in the light, and finally slid hers on her finger. It fit like a glove. “It’s perfect.”

“It is,” Hiccup agreed and gently pulled it from her finger. “But it’s going back into the box for now.”

Suppressing a sigh as he set the box aside – she’d get to proudly wear it soon enough –, her eyes wandered back to the white mystery bag. “Now what’s with that?”

Hiccup was at the bag in one quick jump, guarding it from her. “Before you open this, I just want to tell you how hard it was for me to keep this a secret. Do you know how many times I’ve been just short of blurting it out?”

“This sounds like a rhetorical question, so I’ll just…” She made a grab for the bag, but Hiccup snatched it from her, wiggling a mock-reprimanding finger in her face.

“You’re so impatient. And don’t stick your tongue out at me, missy!” He probably read her stance right and correctly deduced she was about to wrestle him for the bag, because he took a step back and held up his hand, expression changing into a smile that made his eyes shine. “You can see this as a substitute for an engagement ring.”

Heart pounding in her chest, she accepted the bag when he handed it to her, setting it down on the bed and sliding the zipper open. A soft gasp escaped her. “But this is…”

“Your outfit for tonight.”

She looked up, finding him wringing his hands nervously. “Tonight?”

He nodded. “That is, if you’re up for it?”

“Hiccup, what are you talking about?” Her heart was still pounding. Did this mean what she thought it meant? But how? “Wait, did you plan this all along?”

“I uh… Maybe?” He flashed her a shy grin. “I told myself I’d wait until the end of our vacation to see if you changed your mind – yes, don’t look at me like that, I know I shouldn’t have worried in the first place – but I couldn’t tell you that earlier today because then the surprise would have been gone. Besides, the rings weren’t ready yet and the dress was too expensive – by the way, I had it put on layaway until the sale started, which is today, so I just picked it up, and I have your boots and cape as well in there.”

He was now in full motion, talking fast and with his entire body, “And then I had to wait for the documents to arrive because they said the copies were fine for processing but they needed the originals for legal purposes. They arrived five days ago, just in time, although actually, the certification of marital status would have had to be handed in eight weeks ago, but they made an exception in this case, but not officially, of course – I didn’t bribe anyone, I just told them our story and they loved it. I already took care of everything; whenever you were in the shower or trying on dresses or when I went to the store to sneak drinks into the hotel or remember when I insisted on sleeping in and you slept until noon? I always snuck away to make calls or hand in documents. Now all we need to do is sign the papers.”

She blinked, her mind catching up to everything that had just come out of him like the Mosárfoss waterfall. “So all my nagging these past weeks has been for nothing?”

“Actually, I’d say the opposite. It was great reassurance.”

She seriously didn’t know whether to laugh or cry or scream or everything at once. He’d planned all this, without telling her, in case she’d change her mind about getting married, despite her constantly talking his ear off about it. It sounded incredibly stupid. But then again, he knew about her history, and she’d told him about her fear of trapping herself in an unhappy life because she thought she’d failed, somehow. He didn’t want to be the reason she ever felt like that again.

Wiping a hand over her face, she walked up to him, punched his arm and pulled him into a fierce hug. “You know, I would have been fine without a grand surprise. In fact, if you’d told me about this earlier at the cliffs, it would’ve been just as much of a surprise.”

“Hm, but I didn’t have the dress yet and it almost looked like the rings would be too late.” His arms came around her middle. “I didn’t want you to be disappointed after all if it hadn’t worked out.”

She pulled back to look at him. “How did you even get the documents?”

He shrugged with a lopsided smile. “Like everyone else would. I called your ex-husband, naturally.”

“Ah,” she chuckled. “I knew it was a good idea to keep him around, eventually he had to be good for something.”

“Yeah, well, turns out he was good for making it possible for his ex-wife to elope on vacation.” He lifted his chin and made a show out of ceremoniously clearing his throat. “So, Astrid Hofferson. Will you marry me tonight under the northern lights?”

Biting her lip to keep the glee from breaking out over her face, she turned away. “Nah, I changed my mind.”

After a beat, he groaned, “You have a very cruel sense of humor, you know that?”

“Maybe you deserve it.” Then she couldn’t hold it in anymore. She spun back around, finding Hiccup already right behind her, throwing his arms around her and lifting her from the ground. “Okay, yes, yes I will!”

After spinning her around once or twice, he put her back down and, with a barely concealed grin, shrugged and stepped to the side. “Too bad, now I’ve changed my mind.”

She grabbed the next best thing to throw at him, which was the pair of jeggings she planned on wearing on the plane tomorrow, and flung it right at him, hitting him square in the face.”Don’t you dare say that later! I will personally make sure to push you off the next cliff if you do.” She took the dress out of the bag, spreading it on the bed to make sure it wasn’t crinkled. But whoever had packed the bag had known what they were doing. Everything looked flawless.

“Thanks for the heads-up,” Hiccup retaliated, “I’ll bring my parachute.”

Underneath the dress, she found the faux-fur coat and the elegant cream-colored winter boots. And at the bottom of the bag, there was a neatly folded matching suit for Hiccup. She spread everything next to the dress. “Hey, let’s go paragliding or skydiving on our honeymoon! Where do you want to go?”

He picked a strand of her hair and twirled it around his finger. “I hear Iceland’s beautiful this time of year.”

“Very funny, babe.” She pecked his cheek, then dashed over to the bathroom. “I claim the shower first, my hair takes longer!”

_______________

They were scheduled to meet with the officiator a little further than a half-hour ride outside Reykjavík. While Astrid had been singing happy tunes in the shower, Hiccup had called the wedding planning organization he’d been in contact with over the whole legal process and given them the green light for tonight.

Now they were on their way to the site, driving themselves to their own wedding, sitting in a rental jeep in winter wedding attire (the flower crown looked very cute on Hiccup), ring box stored away safely in the glove compartment. The first minutes of the drive, it wasn’t clear who was more antsy, Astrid with her jiggly legs or Hiccup with his constant blabbering.

But then he put on a playlist consisting of Coldplay, U2, Imagine Dragons, and the first two songs they ever danced to together on that rainy Sunday, and singing along to the upbeat music gave them an opportunity to lose some of their nervous energy. Hiccup explained his sentiment behind putting November Rain on the playlist, which made her reflect on how far they’d come since Dagur’s now infamous 30th birthday party.

Lowering her window a bit – not willing to risk the air stream messing up her hair, even though she was wearing it loose, with only her flower crown on top –, she sang into the early night. “It’s a beautiful daaaay! Don’t let it get away!” The concept of fears and doubts and heartbreak seemed foreign to her, the world was a magical place and she was only an hour away from making the best decision of her life so far.

Closing the window when the air rushing in became a bit too fresh, she took out her phone and sent an all-caps text to her parents: ‘CHILL THE CHAMPAGNE CAUSE I’M ABOUT TO DO SOMETHING!!!!!!!’ For good measure, she added a string of heart emojis, stars, and a champagne bottle. She considered also adding a bride emoji, but decided to let her parents stew a little over the meaning of her message. She pictured them sitting at home on the couch, speculating– And there it was already, not five minutes later, the inquiring big question mark her father sent into the chat.

Purposefully switching her phone to airplane mode, she flung it onto the backseat and leaned forward as something in the sky caught her eye, something green and purple dancing high above. The aurora borealis. For the first time on this entire vacation, they finally got to see them for real, without thick clouds blocking the sky. She agreed with Chris Martin. This was para, para, paradise!

Their breaths came out visible in the cold air when they exited the car and walked the remaining few hundred feet to the bank of a lake. It wasn’t far from the cliffs, the sound of crashing waves a steady backdrop to the comparatively tiny waves of the lake lapping at their own shore. Hiccup grabbed her hand and she held onto his tightly.

She didn’t spot the two people waiting for them at first, too distracted by the wonderful display of dancing colors all above and mirrored on the almost still surface of the water. She understood why they’d come all the way out here. It was breathtakingly beautiful.

Atali, the woman who would officiate their little ceremony, and Throk, her assistant who was setting up a few lights and a table with chairs, gave them a warm welcome and offered them both a variety of hot drinks before Atali spread the contents of a thin binder on the table. It was their documents, including a certificate that already had tomorrow’s date on it.

“We’re going to start shortly before midnight so you can say your I do’s right after the beginning of the new day,” Atali explained. Underneath the table, Hiccup gave Astrid’s hand a squeeze. “Now I need to know if you chose to change or keep your last names.” She raised her brows expectantly.

Astrid squeezed Hiccup’s hand right back. “I told him that, should we ever get married, I’d take his. So yes, I’ll change mine.” The look he gave her as Atali neatly wrote their names down on the paper made her heart skip at least a full beat. They were actually going to do this. She waited for a knot in her stomach, a nagging doubt in the back of her head, but she found nothing. She was all in.

While waiting for the time to start the ceremony, huddled together over cups of hot mead, Atali asked them to recap how they met and what made them decide to tie the knot here in Iceland. When Astrid mentioned her issues with admitting to failure, Atali told her about the Icelandic way of thinking: “Here, failure is something that receives applause. Us Icelanders will congratulate you when you fail and encourage you to try again.” It was certainly something to think about, Astrid figured.

When Hiccup wondered if many foreigners came here to get married, Atali explained, “Lots of couples find that a big traditional wedding at home isn’t for them, so they book a wedding program with us. Some then come alone, some bring up to a hundred guests.”

Astrid thought of her entire family tagging along for this and instantly knew what she preferred. Hiccup seemed to have read her mind. “It feels much more intimate like this, with just us,” he said. “Besides, we’re going to have a party with our people back home, anyway.”

She nodded. “And if not, then they’re going to throw it for us, whether we like it or not.” She looked at Hiccup with a knowing grin. “And your dad will be the first to sign up.”

“Oh shit, my dad!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t even tell them we’re doing this.”

“Don’t worry, I also just sent my parents a more or less cryptic message. They’re brooding over it right now, arguing over whether or not it means what they think it means.”

Throk laughed. “Are you planning on video-calling them afterwards? Some couples do and the reactions are usually priceless.”

Envisioning her mother’s surprise, followed by chastising questions about why nobody told her, and Hiccup’s dad’s booming, proud voice, she only briefly missed them on this important day. But Hiccup was right, it felt so much more special without anyone else around.

She was glad her coat and boots were so thick, or else she’d have felt frozen over by the time Atali asked them to stand and come over to the lake. Heart beating in her throat, she clutched Hiccup’s hand even tighter. Ever since they’d exited the car, she’d not let go of it once, using him as an anchor to keep her from succumbing to her nerves and jumping into the lake. She’d been nervous on her first wedding day, too, but for an entirely different reason.

Throk changed the angle of the light so that Atali could read her notes. The dancing colors in the sky illuminated everything else enough. Astrid stood in front of Hiccup who took her other hand as well. She noticed her fingers were cold but his were warm, and she was reminded of her physics lessons back in school, learning about electric circuits and leads and connections. Whatever power it was that connected them so strongly, she felt it flow through their hands and into her belly and chest.

Atali welcomed them again and started the ceremony. She began by citing various definitions for love and marriage and life itself, continued that she didn’t believe in the one true definition for any of those concepts. She told them stories of other couples she’d married, from every part of the world, with all kinds of different histories, who all had a different understanding of love and life. In the end, she said, true love was what the couple made of it.

“Do you want to say your own vows,” she asked, “or do you want me to directly continue with the rings?”

The lights in the sky were reflecting in Hiccup’s eyes as he regarded Astrid. “I’d like to say a few things.” He looked at their hands for a moment before meeting her eyes again, focused on nothing but her. “As a child, thunderstorms used to wake me up in the middle of the night. Even now, I sometimes wake up, expecting thunder and rain, but there’s no storm outside, it’s just you, sleeping next to me. And when you look at me, I can still feel the reverberations of the lightning bolt that struck me the moment we locked eyes for the first time. And I feel it now, too. It’s been almost two and a half years since you first told me you love me and I’m still in awe...” He paused to take a shaky breath.

“Astrid, you make me believe in myself like no one else can. Whenever I’m facing a wall or- or I’m stuck in my own mind, I can always count on you to be there. Sometimes, you don’t even need to say anything. I just have to look into your eyes and I now that everything will be okay. Without you, I’d stumble my way through life with no clue or guidance. With you, I know I’m not alone. And now, as I’m standing here with you, I don’t even feel the cold. I just feel you.”

His words were crawling underneath her skin, creating goosebumps wherever they went. She had to hold back the urge to grab him by the collar and kiss those magical lips of his senseless. When she opened her mouth to speak, everything that came out was a hoarse croak. She didn’t notice the amused smile shared between Atali and Throk as she cleared her throat and tried again.

“Contrary to popular belief, I don’t always know what I’m doing. Usually, when I face a problem, I just look at it like it is and take action. It doesn’t always work out. And sometimes I make plans, but then someone comes along, makes a mess of the whole thing and makes me question everything I ever thought I wanted from my life. How could I have known that I would one day consider that the best thing that’s ever happened to me?”

She gulped. How was she the one holding back tears? But as she looked more closely, she noticed the shimmer in his eyes that told her he wasn’t faring any differently. “With you, I don’t always have to be strong. I can break and know that it’s alright. You’re my favorite person in the whole world. I love the way your mind works. I love the way you look at the world and see possibilities where other people don’t think to look. I love how you make me see things in a different light. I love how you help me be the best version of myself.”

Despite the hot pools of tears threatening to spill over, she couldn’t bring herself to tear her eyes away from him. “And I never want to miss that feeling. That’s why I’m here, with you, as I promise I will always be. No matter what life throws at us, I will always be by your side.” Her voice gave out and even if she’d wanted to say more, she wouldn’t have been able to without breaking out into sobs. Hiccup did that to her.

After giving them a minute to let their words take effect and giving them a chance to gather themselves, Atali nodded at Throk to hand over the rings. “Are you ready to go on?”

Communicating with nothing more than a look, the couple nodded. Hiccup briefly let go of one of her hands to wipe at his eyes, catching her wide-eyed smile that mirrored his own thrilled anticipation. She was glad they didn’t have a big audience for this. Then again, she doubted she’d have registered anyone else while he was looking at her like this, painting her insides technicolor with his words.

Atali motioned for Hiccup to take the first ring and solemnly asked: “Will you, Astrid Hofferson, take this man as your husband?”

“I will,” she said, firmly and honestly. He gently lifted her hand, slid the ring onto her finger and tenderly swiped his thumb over her knuckles. Atali repeated her question at Hiccup, but Astrid didn’t even hear her over the pounding in her ears, eagerly awaiting his answer.

“I will.” She ascended. When she placed the ring on his finger, she was infinitely glad he was still holding her other hand, grounding her.

“Now the only thing left for you to do is sign your marriage certificate.”

Her hand was shaking a little, but she gripped the pen tightly and set her signature right next to Hiccup’s. And when Atali took the pen from her hand, she didn’t waste another second, grabbing his collar with both hands and hurling herself into him.

Only once before had a kiss been this earth-shattering, this heart-stopping, this satisfying. Only this time, it wasn’t raining in buckets.

Atali’s laughter brought her back down to earth. “I was just about to suggest to seal this union with a kiss, but you guys seem to have it covered. Congratulations, you two!”

During the ceremony, Throk had been taking pictures with their camera. Now he took a few more with their phones while Atali sorted the documents, and then even more with only the light of the dancing colors. Astrid was in a daze, following Throk’s suggestions on autopilot. Only when he asked if they wanted to take pictures of each of them alone and Hiccup stepped a few feet away from her, she regained her sense of reality.

But she’d still lost all sense of time. At some point, Throk was apparently satisfied with the amount of photos he’d taken, only staying for one more with the four of them in it. Then he and Atali packed their equipment back into their van while Hiccup and Astrid sent pictures to their friends, first of all to Eret, and video-called their parents.

As predicted, Stoick was over the moon, proudly congratulating them. Valka did the same, just less loudly. Wilma’s first reaction was to look at Frederick and go, “See? I told you she meant something like this!” Then they launched into a discussion over their speculations and who’d predicted what with what level of certainty.

“Are we going to be like this one day?” Astrid whispered to Hiccup.

“Oh, honey, I’m afraid we already are,” he said and pecked her cheek. His lips were warm on her cold skin. Which was why they kept the call short, promising to come by once they returned to Berk.

Then they said goodbye to Atali and Throk, thanking them for everything, before walking towards the edge of the cliffs. Standing there with their arms spread wide, facing the ocean while the wind rushed in their ears, they took deep breaths and shouted into the night until they were completely out of breath.

“How are you feeling, Mrs. Haddock?” Hiccup asked a while later as they stood in a tight hug, swaying with the lights above.

“Blown through.” She felt the wind and the chill of late October to her bones. Back in the city, there were a hot shower and a bed waiting for her, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave her husband’s arms just yet.

This was a moment for eternity.

_______________

It was a loud crack of thunder that woke her.

Careful not to make too much noise, she crawled out of bed and tip-toed into the hallway, the occasional flash of lightning in the sky illuminating her path.

On her way past her parents’ bedroom, she stopped and listened, but didn’t pick up any signs that someone had heard her. Nothing from her sisters’ rooms as well. Seemed like the whole house was asleep but for her.

One hand on the railing, she carefully tip-toed down the stairs. In the living room, she slid behind the couch, pulled the curtains aside and climbed onto the windowsill. This was the best place in the house to watch storms, she’d already figured that out during the first week they’d lived here. Rain was splattering against the glass and another roll of thunder shook the sky. She loved it.

Her dad liked to tell the story of how he’d felt struck by lightning when he’d first met her mom. She thought it was cheesy. Ida thought it was romantic. But Ida found everything romantic at the moment. And Lexi didn’t even understand the concept yet. Maybe Benji would have more sense than her little sisters once he was born. But that was still a few weeks away, said her mom.

Several more flashes of lightning momentarily bathed the living room in a bright light, enough to illuminate the mess that three young kids, a dog, and a cat inevitably made throughout the day. Not to mention the dad that liked to misplace everything, especially sketchbooks. He had a lot of those.

A low whimper gained her attention and she spotted first the eyes, then the rest of the golden retriever cowering between the chairs under the table.

“Come here, Zephyr!” she whisper-shouted and the dog scurried over. She jumped onto the back of the couch, wagging her tail and burying her head under Finja’s arm. “You’re a fine guard dog, you are.” She ruffled the fur behind the dog’s ears, calming her as the wind blew a gust of rain against the window, followed by another crack of thunder.

“Fin?”

Finja’s head whipped around at the voice. Ida stuck her head around the door, long blonde hair falling into her face. In her arms, she was holding a bundle of reddish fur – her favorite comfort pet, Nuffink. Finja herself had named the cat back when she’d first learned to speak. She couldn’t remember her thought process behind the name, though.

“Can… Can I sit with you?”

Finja wordlessly waved her over. Nuffink squirmed in Ida’s hold and escaped, but Ida didn’t care, a smile lighting up her face as she quietly ran over to join her sister on the windowsill. Zephyr enjoyed the additional petting hand and eventually stopped whimpering at every crack of thunder.

“Why are you not asleep?” Finja asked.

“The storm is too loud. And you? Don’t you love storms?”

It was true, Finja did. As far as she could remember, thunderbolts and lightning had never scared her. She rather found they calmed her. But tonight, she hadn’t been able to sleep much, nerves and excitement keeping her awake. She’d just managed to fall asleep when the storm had started.

“It’s because of tomorrow, isn’t it?” Ida asked. She was smart.

Finja shrugged. “Maybe.” It was her very first day of school. And since they had moved to a bigger house in a different part of Berk, that also meant she had to go to a different school than all of her friends.

“Don’t worry, Fin, you’ll be fine. You’ll find lots of friends, you’ll see. And granny Valka and gramps live near the school, how cool is that? You can go over after school every day!” One year from now, Ida would be in school too, even though she’d be a few months younger than the other kids.

“If mom and dad allow it,” Finja mumbled, but she had to admit, it was comforting to know that part of her family was always nearby.

“And uncle Eret’s work is only one street over.”

“Really?” Her little sister wasn’t just smart, she also had an amazing sense of direction. She’d kill it in school next year.

Ida nodded and yawned, exposing all of her teeth.

“Cover your mouth,” Finja chided.

“Oops.”

“Come, let’s go back to bed.” The rain was letting up and the sound of thunder far away. Zephyr was drowsing with her head in Finja’s lap. Besides, the glowing hands of the clock on the wall told her it was the middle of the night.

“Can I sleep in your bed tonight?” Ida asked as she climbed back down from the windowsill. Finja suspected she only said that so Finja would sleep better, but it wasn’t like she didn’t secretly like the idea.

“Okay.”

[sanktnikolais]

What Keeps You Up At Night

A/N: one last writing before I disappear for quite a long time. Or idk maybe i’ll be back again soon, but it’s burnt out season these days. No more will to write and live HAHAKLDHFS so have this mess of neighbors au, and i might still write more of this in this au, maybe not just too soon. ;-;

Happy Halloween, ig. 

Word count: 2151

AO3

The first time Zoya had finally talked properly with her noisy, infuriating neighbor without them arguing was in the middle of the night. 

          The endless readings for her upcoming case had taken a toll on her for the past few days, and the sleep she got was not enough to make her last the next day without verbally murdering someone in the firm. Tonight was no different, but she decided to go to bed earlier, as the noises from next door were starting to get louder again, and she was tired of going over and trying to knock his door down. They had been arguing off every little mistake they could pinpoint and use it against each other.

          When Zoya had moved in the apartment complex more two weeks ago, only the ones from across and by the end of the hall came to greet her, while the one next to hers was silent the whole time, and the rest of the day. 

          A firefighter, the other floor tenants had said, so he was gone most of the day. 

          She would've appreciated it at some point, if only if he didn't make so much noise at nights whenever he was back. It was during the third night that she finally had enough rage to stomp over the adjacent door and knock, only to end up with the firefighter arguing back that she, too, was too noisy every morning.

          Those arguments only got frequent for the two weeks, until they got a notice from the landlord to settle things down otherwise they’d get evicted. They had both ‘compromised’ with each other’s time schedule, but it really just involved them glaring at each other and arguing very quietly. Though their interactions had gone much calmer in the past few days, there was still no denying about the bad blood between them.

          Now Zoya was just about to retreat back to her bedroom when there was a loud scratching on her front door. It wasn't the type that one would suddenly hear but was gone after a moment. Instead it was continuous and hurried, as if someone or something was trying to get in. 

          She raised an eyebrow, eyeing the time on her phone. 1:03. What the hell could it be at this time of the night? 

          The scratching continued as Zoya slowly approached the front door, her heart starting to hammer in her chest. She wasn't the type to believe in the supernatural, but who's to say it was impossible? 

          She stopped in front of the door, and then the scratching stopped. Coldness seemed to wash over her, the suddenness of the feeling making her shiver. Whatever it was may have left already, most likely a stray rat or something. But the sound was too loud for something as small as a rat. What if it was—

          Zoya stopped her thoughts with a dark chuckle, feeling silly for even thinking about the impossible, though there was still no denying the slight fear in her chest. With a shake of her head, she took a deep breath and peeked through the peephole on her door. 

          There wasn't anyone outside. 

          She scoffed. Maybe the lack of sleep for the past week had made her imagination and hearing tacky. 

          "Being scared of mere sounds now, huh, Nazyalensky?" she mumbled to herself, stepping away from the door. 

          Only to stop when another sound came from the other side. A soft cry. 

          By this time, her fear was replaced by annoyance, and Zoya just turned the lights on, grabbed at the knob, and opened the door. 

          As expected, there wasn't any soul outside. Even the hall was dim and quiet—except for the occasional ones coming from the infuriating firefighter's slightly open door—when she turned to look in both directions, the small light by the end made it possible to see. Otherwise, the floor was empty. 

          She eyed the next door with a frown, shaking her head. Was he so confident to leave it open during this time of the night? 

          Then a thought came to her head. If she ever caught Lantsov trying to play a prank on her in the middle of the night, she would definitely not hesitate to strangle him on the spot. She shook her head, feeling annoyed with both herself and whatever it was that made the scratching sound. It surely wasted her time to check when she was supposed to be dozing off already. 

          She stepped back, ready to close the door, when she felt something brush past her ankle. 

          It was enough for a yelp to erupt from her mouth and jump, almost crashing over to her door. 

          Zoya quickly recovered and whirled around, expecting to see something scary, probably a ghost that had finally decided to become visible to her or anything supernatural that she's read and watched far too many times. 

          What she didn't expect was an adorable fluff of golden fur poised down on the floor as if it were trying to get her to play. 

          She gaped at the dog, turning back to the hall and expecting its owner to come over to get him. But no one came. 

          A soft whine made her turn back to the dog. It was now sitting up, head inclined to the side with a curious look on its face. If this was some other time, Zoya knew she would've melted on the sight. But now there was only confusion and bewilderment in her mind. 

          The dog couldn't be any older than several months. It was still a bit small to be an adult Retriever, but definitely not a puppy anymore. 

          She crouched down in level with it, and the dog immediately got up to run towards her. It only took a blink before it was jumping to her with an excited bark, and Zoya caught the dog mid-air. 

          The Retriever started attacking her with kisses, and the annoyance she was feeling just now disappeared completely. She laughed lightly when the dog's tail started to wag too vigorously as she stood up. 

          "Where did you come from?" Zoya asked, giving its head a ruffle. There was small ringings coming from the bell on its collar, and she turned the tag over. Sturmhond. "Storm dog, huh?" She leaned back to look at the golden fluff. It reached over to lick at her nose, causing a chuckle from her. "Who in the world would name you like that?"

          There was a squeak of a door being opened. "Sturmhond?" a deep voice echoed in the hallway, followed by rushed footsteps. "Sturm—" 

          Zoya turned around to Lantsov stop by her door, already in his black shirt that had a printed Ravka Fire Protection on the upper left. 

          The firefighter’s stare at her lingered for a second too long before he was blinking and averting his eyes from her and to the bundle of golden fur in her arms. "Sturmhond!" His hazel eyes that had a deep look of worry before suddenly lit up when they landed on the dog.

          The dog—Sturmhond—immediately squirmed off her arms and leaped over to him. 

          He caught him with a laugh. "Saints, there you are," he said in obvious relief. He gave the dog a ruffle on the head as Sturmhond bombarded his cheek with kisses. After a moment, he turned to her with a small wince. "I'm sorry about that, I only got him several days ago from the alley at the back and he's still trying to adjust—" He seemed to realize his own blabbing and he shook himself. “Yeah, I’m sorry for the disturbance.”

          Zoya raised an eyebrow. Did he just apologize to her? “I think this is the first time I heard you apologize, Lantsov," she said, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorway. “You ought to close your door if you don’t want him escaping your place.”

          The firefighter frowned. “It was closed, alright?”

         Zoya raised a brow at him. “Oh, really, now?” she said. “How come he got to my door?”

          “I don’t know,” he said, a tad bit too sharply, and he seemed to realize his tone. “Maybe I did leave the door open. My shifts have been longer these days, I really would tend to forget a lot."

          She fought a smile on her lips as she took in this whole new character of her neighbor. He was so far from the one that she had been arguing for the past two weeks. “Is this character development? You are awfully different today.”

          Lantsov only rolled his eyes as he adjusted the dog in his arms. “Nice to finally meet you,” he said sarcastically. Then he shook his head, a small smile on his lips. “Taking care of this one probably did the trick.”

          Zoya made a surprised huff. It was the first time they had talked without wanting to verbally murder one another, and it was a new thing to see. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all. 

          “Anyway, my shift starts in about ten minutes and it won’t end until lunch I think,” he said with an amused smile, “at least I don’t have to endure your loudness at eight in the morning.”

          She erased her previous thought. Still the infuriating and idiotic neighbor. “For once, I thought you actually had some character development, Lantsov.”

          Nikolai laughed, and Zoya felt the strange ease in the air that was never there before. “Only for you, dear,” he said. “Well, then. I have to go—”

          He was cut off when Sturmhond suddenly jumped off from his arms and padded his way inside Zoya’s apartment, hiding behind her legs. She furrowed her eyebrows and looked down at the dog behind her. It seemed to have shrunk smaller as Sturmhond continued to hide. 

          “Sturmhond. Come on, buddy, I have to go,” he said gently, bracing his hands on his knees to crouch lower. He tried to call the dog once more, but Sturmhond didn’t budge. He sighed and stood up, checking his watch. “He’s still having issues with leaving. He thinks he’s going to get abandoned again.” Then he winced, closing his eyes as if he were in pain. “Can I, uh, ask for a favor?”

          She narrowed her eyes, a laugh bubbling out from her lips. The night was definitely going on a weird turn. “Nikolai Lantsov is asking a favor from me?”

          His wince only worsened. “I know, but it’s all because I forgot to call my friend that’s supposed to take Sturmhond tonight,” he said, rubbing at his face. He looked up after a moment, a defeated look on his face. “Can you watch over him?” 

          Zoya raised an eyebrow, and before she could reply, he quickly added, “I will pay for the dog sitting, don’t worry.” He looked past her and down to the dog hiding behind her. He had a worried crease between his brows, and for once, his usual smug expression was gone and replaced by a genuine emotion she never saw him have before. “He really looks like he doesn’t want to leave tonight.”

          Her frown got deeper as she contemplated the firefighter’s request. He hadn’t been the most likeable person on their floor, at least for her, and she had every right to say no. But what she couldn’t understand was her lack of resistance over the favor and the sudden urge to help him.

          She sighed. “Fine, I can watch over him,” she said even before she could think of changing her mind. Then with much more surety, she added, “I’m on a day off tomorrow, anyway.”

          His eyes lit up like a child being allowed to play outside. “Really?”

          “He seems behaved enough. And I’m sure he’s much quieter than you.”

          To her surprise, Nikolai laughed, and her stomach did a weird flip at that. “He definitely is quieter than me. And he sleeps a lot too, would pass out anywhere he lays down.”

          “My rate is not cheap, though.”

          “I don’t mind.” He chuckled, the expression in his eyes was soft when he said, “Thank you.”

          Zoya blinked, the direction of the night catching her completely off guard. It was only then that he looked much better with a smile on his face rather than the frown he always had every time they argue, and his eyes were definitely much warmer up close. 

          Lantsov was indeed quite a looker.

          She shook herself out of her thoughts, covering them up with a glare on the blond. “Don’t thank me yet, I am planning to use this favor against you.”

          Nikolai chuckled. “Of course, anything for you, Nazyalensky.”

          Oh, she still hated him for having a sudden effect on her. 

          She’ll charge him off big time for dog sitting.

---

But when he came to pick the dog up much later in the afternoon, Zoya hadn’t charged him off with anything. 

[wordstro]

[3:56 PM] + avatar: the last airbender au

it’s only been a few years since the first colonies were established in the earth kingdom. it’s only been a few years since the air nation was completely wiped out and, presumably, so was the avatar. you remember hearing of the change in school curriculum after the fire nation invaded your village - how they taught children of the supposed evils of the air nation, how weak they were, how fire lord sozin defeated a nation that felt they were above and beyond the laws established by the fire nation, how they would have spread their lawlessness and ruined the entire world. colonization came with the red outfits your siblings had to wear to school and an influx of fire nation soldiers passing through your little village, wreaking havoc as they went. it came with a food shortage and a steep rise in prices, with sneering soldiers, too many burn injuries, and your parents warning you to keep your head down, especially when you’d go into town.

the fire nation instilled the belief that the air benders were gone.

they should be gone.

yet, here one was.

he’s cross-legged and floating in the air as he reached for a ripe apple-granate. he has fluffy dark hair - nothing like the bald monks you were told about in your younger years - and delicate features, all pulled together tight in deep concentration. you can see a bit of blue on his forehead, along his hands, the air nation tattoos your parents told you stories of when you were a child.

still, you didn’t mean to or want to catch his attention, because the one thing you’ve learned over the past few years of experiencing war and occupation was that it was really best to just keep your head down and pretend like you didn’t see some of the things that you did.  

except you back right into something fluffy and large and you spin, only to come face-to-face with a large beast. you scream, you can’t help it, and the beast roars back and oh god, oh god, it’s going to eat you and you’re going to -

you’re wet and sticky and oh.

you realize quickly that the large white beast just licked you and, “gross.” you mumble, trying and failing to shake the slobber off you.

“don’t call him that!” an unfamiliar voice snaps.

your head snaps to the side and the boy is standing there, quite literally hovering over you, dressed in yellow and orange robes. you’ve heard stories of the airbenders, before the fire nation spread their own stories, of how they were always kind, child-like almost, but this one has a gaze that is anything but. he looks at you with sharp eyes, fiery almost, and the intensity there could rival a firebender’s. still, there is a delicate sweetness to him, a regality that reminds you of the stories your parents told you. he stares at you, head held high, challenging almost, and you think he is not someone you should ever want to anger. but, his eyes are gentle, despite the fire, and they remind you of the airbenders the stories spoke of, not the ones the fire nation belittles.

“it is gross, though.” you mumble, glancing back at the white beast, who just breathes heavily, tongue lolling all about. its eyes are huge, and it has a dark arrow on its head shaped just like the boy. it must be an air bison, you realize. you thought those were wiped out, too.

the boy lands in front of you, so gracefully, you can’t help but stare. he spins his hands, once, twice, and you yelp as he uses wind to siphon the slobber off you, leaving you looking like a wreck.

“thanks...” you look up at him expectantly.

“yeosang.” he supplies, perhaps a little too easily.

“yeosang.” you repeat a few times, getting used to the sound of his name on your tongue. you tell him your name, despite him not asking. he doesn’t repeat it, just stares.

his eyes are still so intense as he says, “i’m just passing through. that’s all.”

his words are pointed, biting, his eyes flickering over your shoulder. you glance back as well - there’s a column of smoke coming from the fire nation watch towers in your village and you can see a bit of the fire nation emblem peeking through the tops of the trees, always looming, always watching.

“where are you going?” you’re not sure why you’re asking, you’re not supposed to care and you’re certainly not supposed to endanger your entire family by exposing yourself to information that will clearly get you killed, or worse. you bite your lip, add a quiet, “you don’t have to tell me, it’s just…i was just wondering since…”

you trail off, cutting yourself off.

something changes in his eyes - like a sadness, a longing, that makes you pause. his air bison whines softly from behind you. he sighs, glancing up at the sky, before he shrugs, “somewhere safe.”

you don’t tell him that you think such a place does not exist, not anymore. you just nod. you just say, “good luck. really.”

his eyes snap down, settling on you, and he looks...surprised. after a moment, he tosses you the apple-granate in his hands. you fumble, nearly dropping it.

he waves, says, “thanks.”

then he disappears into the trees.

~.~.~.~.~

it’s hard for you to assimilate the way the fire nation orders you to, but you’ve seen what happens to dissenters - your friend and neighbor, choi jongho, was taken away when he tried to crush a pair of fire nation soldiers with a boulder. the memory of him being taken down, of fire engulfing him, dancing in the darkness of his eyes, before he was completely knocked out and dragged away remains vivid, haunting you. no one knows where jongho was taken or whether he was dead or alive. still, it’s hard for you to wake up in the mornings and dress in fire nation red, hard for you to watch as your village succumbs to the rules of another nation, hard to see so many of your people cower beneath hands ablaze with flames. many of the old festivals are forbidden, and the silence that lingers in the streets is a deafening kind.

it's hard for you to forget what it was like before, though your memories begin to fade. hunger and fear turns your village more complacent than ever and you think it’s a clever move, on the fire nation’s part. you're meant to forget, you know, but you still remember things, still remember that encounter with the airbender yeosang, still remember the dances and the festivals and the stories. with the fire nation growing more heavy-handed, more oppressive, with the rumors that the avatar has abandoned the world for one has still not appeared, despite how long ago the air nation had been wiped out, with the way you’ve seen some of your friends dragged away from their families for even whispering of rebellion, you decide you cannot stay in your village any longer.

“it will be one less mouth to feed.” you reason with your mother. you do not tell her the longing you have to be free, because that’s dangerous. “i can find work and send you money. it'll be okay.”

and, you think, your mother knows more about your true intentions than she lets on. she had looked at you strangely the night you returned with your hair sticking up in every direction and the faint smell of animal saliva radiating off of you. she had mentioned that the soldiers were looking for a fugitive in the woods, scolded you for wandering off without telling her where you were going. even now, as you try to soothe her with carefully crafted words, she just stares at you. she doesn’t refuse, though. she just hugs you tight and tells you to be careful.

~.~.~.~.~

you find work on a ship – it’s a fire nation ship because you can never really escape them, not really, but they pay well enough for you to send home a decent amount of money every month and you find that you coming from a fire nation colony makes it easier for you to get such a job in the first place. they called it a privilege on your first day and no one batted an eye at the statement.

“come on, put your fucking backs into it!” the captain of the ship shouts, his whip snapping loudly against the metal floorboards, almost as loud as the thunder and lightning crackling up above.

the sea churns angrily and you push down the urge to vomit as you yank at the sails. you've been on this ship for half a year, yet you’ve never seen a storm this bad. it was unexpected; the skies were clear as day just a click back.

rain drenches you and you lose your grip on the ropes when the boat lurches forward. you land on your back hard, so hard you see black spots in your vision, just before you get a face-full of seawater.

then the captain appears in your spotted vision, snapping his whip. the pain on your leg is unbearable and you have half a mind to kick him off the boat yourself (you’ve had these thoughts since the moment you joined this crew and the captain seemed to make it his personal mission to make the lives of every single colony member’s life a living hell) when lightning cracks behind his head and you swear you see the outline of a gigantic beast in the clouds, your eyes widening in horror.

“have you broken your brain, idiot? get up.” the captain shouts, spitting everywhere, hand splayed, fire growing in his palms.  

you hear screaming on the boat. the captain turns at the sound. instinct tells you to grab something and hold on tight. so you do, stumbling to your feet, lunging at the metal mast and ropes. there's a roar – you’ve heard the rumors of a sea monster roaming the seas, destroying ships as they pass, but you believed them just to be rumors – and you watch, with the slightest bit of satisfaction, as the captain gets swept overboard by an unnaturally large tidal wave. it drenches you in saltwater and your eyes burn when you try to keep them open, even as you hug the metal mast like a koala-cat.

something big lands onboard, roars so loudly, you let out a small whimper. you blink, eyes wide, as the mist clears, as the storm seems to settle, too, and your eyes widen because –

it’s an airbison.

you know it, despite the black cloak it has wrapped around it, it’s eyes and tongue is familiar.

mist still lingers around the ship and you are acutely aware that you are the only one still on board. from the mist, a dark shadow looms, until metal clangs against metal and you realize, oh, they’re hijacking the ship.

someone emerges from the mist, followed by a couple more people, and maybe the captain had been right about you breaking your brain, because you hadn’t even thought to hide until now.

you slowly back away from the metal mast, only to bump into something – or someone.

“it looks like we missed a spot.” someone calls, making you flinch, and you try to run, you really do, but the person is faster, easily yanking your hands behind your back and securing you. all you can do is let them shove you to your knees and sputter nonsensically, cursing under your breath.

the mist dissipates quickly from the deck, clearing, and you look up, first at the person who caught you – a boy with sharp, angled features and a dimpled grin dressed in various shades of blue. then you look ahead, at the people cautiously stepping towards you.

one of them has dark hair, wears familiar green – you almost forgot that your village used to dress like that, before the invasion – and another is also dressed in blue. there is someone, also, dressed in all black, as if he is in mourning. your eyes flicker to the airbison and back to him, a small voice at the back of your head whispering nonsensical conclusions. you know it couldn’t be him, because the fire lord emphasized that he had killed them all, even the nomads that managed to get away. days after he left you with that apple-granate, rumors spread quickly of soldiers finding an airbender hiding in the woods, of how they killed him on the spot and left his body for the animals to feed on.

“please don’t kill me.” you blurt out, the minute they come to a halt in front of you. “i'm too young to die.”

there's a long pause. you open one eye, peeking up at them. the one in green lets out a small snort. he looks a little familiar, “we don’t kill people like you.”

“you don’t?” you blink, in disbelief. you nod at the air bison, “i mean, you have the perfect opportunity to feed me to that?”

“he’s a vegetarian.” the boy who captured you says, from above you.

you only eye them with more disbelief, “you sure about that?”

“do you want us to feed you to Tiny? it really seems like you want us to.” the other boy in blue crosses his arms over his chest. his voice is deep and he’s tall, his nose distinct.

“wait.” you make a face, “you named your giant air bison with teeth bigger than my head Tiny?”

you focus on their faces, one by one, settling on the boy in the green for a moment longer, because he looks incredibly familiar. it takes you a moment too long, only because there’s a scar marring his face, a burning streaking from his nose down his jaw. your eyes widen –

“jongho?”

the memory of flames, of them dragging jongho away so long ago remains vivid in your mind, even now as you look at him. it takes him a moment to recognize you – it was so long ago, and you’ve both changed a lot. but, he recognizes you, his voice unfamiliar around your name.

“what – what are you doing on a fire nation ship?” he sounds…offended.

you shrink a bit at the edge to his tone, at the way his friends seem to look down at you, literally and figuratively. “i needed to find work. this was the best i could find.” you pause, throw back, “what are you doing…out?”

you never expected him to get away from fire nation captivity.

“i broke out.” he says, quite simply, before he gestures around him, “they helped me and a friend get out.”

you notice, however, the boy dressed in all black watching you from the back of the group. his gaze seems particularly pointed and it makes the hairs at the back of your neck stand on end. you stare back at him, have half a mind to snap what because the staring is making you uncomfortable.

he speaks, though, after the lull of silence stretches on longer. he says, “how did you know this was an air bison?”

“what?” that catches you off guard.

“he’s covered up.” his voice is quiet, musical almost, but so heavily weighted. “it could be giant mutated polar dog bear for all you know.”

“i…it flies?” you blink. he doesn’t say anything – doesn’t believe you. “i mean, i remember the stories from before.” the silence keeps going. you fumble with your words, somehow compelled to keep talking, even though no one is prompting you. you say, “i…fine. i saw one – up close – a few years ago.”

jongho blinks, “you did?”

you nod, “yeah, i met…an airbender.” you glance at the boy, note how he freezes in place.

“who?” his voice is sharp as a knife. you think you can detect the hint of desperation. he hurries forward, each footstep light, barely audible, though he moves fast, nearly floating, until he, too, is hovering over you. he lands in front of you with a gust of wind, his hood slipping from his face. he’s sharp and pretty, but it’s not delicate, it’s angular, full of fire in ways you expected of a firebender. A blue arrow peeks out from beneath his long fluffy hair, but he isn’t yeosang. “who was it?!”

you flinch at the loudness, the way it booms all around them. the boy who captured you reaches out, puts a hand on his shoulder, pushing him back just a bit as he says, warningly, “hongjoong.”

you stare at the boy, hongjoong, and you’re disappointed, you realize. you think you may be looking at him with the same type of disappointment that he is looking at you with. for a moment, you both share a look of understanding. he definitely knew yeosang longer than you, but the boy has lingered in your thoughts for years, became something of a symbol of freedom, of the old days, to you. to hongjoong, he must represent his entire culture. he’s no longer alone. for a moment, you both seem to understand each other a bit too much for mere strangers, so you look away first, your gaze settling on his feet.

“his name was yeosang.” you say, quietly. “he said…he said he was going somewhere safe.”

hongjoong slumps in his spot and it’s as if the other boy’s hand is the only thing holding him up. “oh.” he whispers. “oh. he…he…he survived, too.”

the vulnerability in that one sentence makes your chest hurt. you tell it affects his friends, too, their brows curling with concern. you don’t know how you’re supposed to tell him of the rumors after you met yeosang. you don’t know how you’re supposed to remind him that you saw yeosang years ago. there's no guarantee he’s still alive.

but, as you look into hongjoong’s eyes, you think he knows that already.

hongjoong straightens up, his black cloak flapping all around him. he says, “let’s grab the supplies we need and get off this thing.”

you stare as the boys start to move, following his orders, leaving you on your knees, still tied up. only jongho hesitates, but he still leaves you alone. hongjoong stares down at you, for a long, long moment.

“can you bend?”

“what?”

he sighs, “everyone in the crew can bend. can you?”

you shake your head.

“then, what’s stopping me from tossing you overboard like the rest of your fire nation crew?” hongjoong bites out, then, still staring.

“your pacifism?” you squeak.

his expression twists into annoyance. “get up.”

“to your ship?” you ask, a little too hopefully, as you stumble to your feet.

“unfortunately.” he mumbles. “don’t make me regret the decision.”

you nod, quickly, “i won’t, i promise.”

he just watches your enthusiastic nodding carefully before he sighs, turning his back on you.

[whichwaytowonderlandep]

Evermore | Ch. 1

Pairings: (Yoongi/Reader)

Genre: Romance, Angst

Words: 3,638

Tags: Beauty and The Beast AU, Modern au, eventual smut, drug mentions (sort of)

Series: The Disney Series

Chapter One

Your hand flew out of the sheets, flying across the side of the bed blindly before you finally made contact with the annoying device that had decided to wake you up at the ungodly hour of six in the afternoon. Too early for you. 

You let out a loud groan, feeling slightly buzzed as the hangover from last night comes at you in full force. The sounds of the cars running and the people having fun outside of your apartment building filtered into your small and run down apartment. 

You don’t remember much of last night, having completely checked out of your body as the night progressed, you continued to work the streets until the ungodly hour of three in the morning. 

You get up from your bed, bones cracking as you smack your dry lips together. One of your hands comes up from under the covers as you push your tangled hair out of your face. The warm air coming from the fan in the corner doing little to stop you from sweating like hell while you slept during the day. 

You knew your roommate must’ve been here during the day by the leftover weed smell that continued to linger in the air coming from the kitchen. You ignore it, already having been used to the smell before you move to the bathroom. 

Your eyes instantly meet your unruly hair as you really take a look at yourself, seeing all the makeup from last night still on your face — smudged and not at all pleasant looking. 

You decide to get ready for the night, taking a long cold shower as the knots that had formed under all that stress and that hard as a rock bed wasn’t helping make matters any better. 

The heavy metal music and the sound of cars honking filling in the silence as you got ready in the sluttiest clothing you could find in the shared closet you and your roommate, Olivia had. You had promised her to finally join her tonight, after weeks of asking you finally agreed to join her and maybe make some money on the side while you were at it. 

A tight, black dress that landed too far from your knee but that still left something to the imagination. Your makeup was done heavy — black eyeshadow and eyeliner, as well as dark red lipstick coloring your lips as you made your way out of your apartment… through your window. 

It’s not that your door didn’t work well, it was the people behind said door that you were wanting to avoid. Your rent was due soon and your front door neighbor had this thing about grabbing your ass every time he saw you. So, climbing out of a three story apartment window and into your fire escape seemed like the safer choice of the two at the moment. 

You make your way down the street, heels clicking loudly as your hips sway side to side. The dirty streets of the city were filled with late night party goers, drug addicts looking to score and ladies of the night looking to make a quick buck. Your smile flirts with the man you pass, throwing small waves at the ones who almost break their neck to get a glimpse of your ass. You break out in a giggle as one of them trips over his friends.  

Your hair bounces on your shoulders as you quickly make it down the street, catching sight of your friend’s bright purple hair. “Oli!” You shout her name as you stand a few meters away from her, waving your arms around as you try to get her attention from the other side of the street.

Olivia Alvarez was an old friend from the days before you became a college drop out — her following you right along. What mostly attracted you to her was her loud as fuck personality and her will to give less fucks in any situation. “I’ll talk to you later baby, my girl is here.” She pats the guy on the ass, startling him slightly before moving to wrap her hands around you as you ran towards her. 

“I haven’t seen you since yesterday!” You exclaim, hugging her tightly. You let go of her as you wrap a hand around her shoulders. “Where have you been, buddy?” 

“Oh you know…” Oli wiggles her eyebrows, making an action zip her lips and throwing the key away. “A lady never reveals her conquests.” She whips her hair around as she wraps her arm around your waist. Her height making it possible for her to lay her head on your shoulder with no problems — leading the both of you to stand at the corner of the street. 

“Manny was looking for you again last night” you say, watching her smile quickly disappear from her lips. “Told him you left the country… again.” 

“Yeah, well next time you see him, tell him that I died.” Oli ‘s heavy Argentinian accent coming out as memories of him come to mind. “And that my body was cremated, that you scatter my ashes into the ocean so that I may find my way back home and blah blah blah” 

You chuckle at her dramatic ways, finally separating from her as the catcalling around the two of you becomes even more noticeable. “You’ll be fine, just avoid him for a couple of more days and he’ll get bored… eventually.” 

“So what are we doing tonight?” You change the subject quickly, trying to keep the mood a happier one. 

“We are going to hit a couple of clubs, meet some new friends and have the best fucking time if our lives” Oli counts each one of them on her fingers, reaching into her jacket’s pocket and pulling a small plastic bag of different colored pills. 

Your smile only wavers slightly as she pulls two of them out, offering one of them to you before shoving the other one into her mouth. 

You eye the one in your hand, not sure how taking random drugs is going to get you through the night without making a plethora of horrible decisions. It would sure as hell make it a whole lot easier. “Come on (Y/N)” Oli says in a mocking manner, “Live a little!” 

You smile, a slight grimace on your lips before taking the pill into your mouth. 

Right, (Y/N)... it’s time to live a little. — you think to yourself, already regretting what was going to happen tonight. 

//

Min Yoongi couldn’t be even more than happy to get the hell out of that party. If it could even be called a party. His fingers twirl around the emerald ring on his left hand. His face showing no emotion as he took another long sip of his watered down tequila — he had no plans on getting drunk tonight, but as the night went on he was going to quickly change his mind. His black hair crazily moving to the California breeze as he leans on the glass railing overlooking the bright city lights. 

All he wanted to do was to go back to his hotel room and take a nice long and well deserved nap. But no, he had to stay here in the middle of a city where he knew absolutely nobody. Where he was only asked by his company to appear for appearances sake. 

“Hey grumpy!” A loud voice startles him as a taller body crashes into his. Hoseok’s blinding smile moves to the corner of his eyes, a hard pat on his back. “What the hell are you doing out here when the girls are all inside?” 

He would have almost forgotten about Hoseok’s presence if it wasn’t for the way he would constantly come outside and check up on him every couple of minutes. 

“You’re missing out, man!” Hoseok continues as Yoongi gives him an uninterested glare before moving his gaze back to the city. “Why don’t you just come back inside, I might even have the right girl for you.” THe younger man chuckles. 

“Not interested” Yoongi grumbles, already knowing where this was going. He had seen it all before, the parties, the glamour, the celebrities — hell, he has lived in the spotlight most of his life and there was nothing he had grown to hate more. He drinks what was left in his glass, hoping that the younger male would finally take the hint. Unfortunately, that was still not the case. 

“Oh stop being such a grump! I know you used to like to party!” Hoseok whines as he leans over the railing, trying to get Yoongi to meet his eyes. “I want my best bro back” 

“You know, I’m doing just fine with this bottle for myself” Yoongi points to the bottle sitting on the ground beside him. “I was also having a great ass time, so why not let me continue doing that?” With a grim smile, Yoongi looks back at the scenery in front of him. 

Hoseok gives him one last smile before wrapping his arm around the giggling girl beside him. He had always known Yoongi to be the biggest grump he had ever met — nothing mean that he said was ever taken to heart. Hoseok, even after everything they’ve been through, would still consider him one of his best friends. 

Hoseok lets out a deep sigh as he realizes the older man isn’t really in the mood to party so he reluctantly takes his keys out of his jacket, placing them on the flat railing before taking his leave.”Don’t scratch it” Hoseok yells back before disappearing from the patio and into the lively atmosphere. 

Yoongi takes one look at them, his tongue pushing against his cheek as he places the bottle on the metal railing with a thunk, grabbing onto the keys before he makes his way down and through the backyard — possibly avoiding every person he possibly could. 

His mind was slightly buzzed from the alcohol, nose red from the cold and his body feeling only slightly heavy, and yet, nothing was stopping him from climbing into the front seat of Hoseok’s car and pulling off into the dark road. 

// 

You’re extremely sweaty, a little bit hot and definitely feeling like you might pass out any second. At the same time... you felt euphoric, high on life and you would admit a little bit horny. Olivia and you had found yourself gaining free entry to one of the nearby clubs, stepping onto the dance floor as soon as the two of you arrived. You had some idea of what Oli might have given you, making a note to ask her tomorrow if she had any more. 

The strobing lights made you dizzy and the vibrations coming from the surrounding speakers were beginning to give you a heavy migraine. You stop dancing as you feel someone pull at your hand, looking back with your fuzzy vision you see Olivia’s wild hair in your present view.  You could hear her saying something, although it sounded like nothing but gibberish to you. 

You don’t know what she said, but your hazy mind was able to put two and two together as you saw her smirk at you before turning around and grabbing onto some random guy’s arm. She has found a client for tonight and from here on out you were flying solo. 

You’re no longer paying attention to her as you see her making her way out of the club, instead your eyes start scanning the rest of the barely lit club. As a high-end escort, Olivia knew the clubs where all the rich, married and very lonely trophy husbands and CEOs liked to hang out and relax. It was her hunting ground. 

The men in her life didn’t last very long but from the moment they met her, they could only assume they were done for. Once she had her claws on him she wouldn’t let them go until she got bored or she got a large sum of money from them. Olivia gets bored very easily. 

You hadn’t been okay with the idea when she had first suggested you joined her while she worked, knowing rent was due next week and you barely had enough food to last you the next few days. So, you took her up on her offer. To let her teach you her ways of manipulation. 

You lick at your dry lips, feeling lost and alone as you no longer have someone familiar around you. You push your hair back as you step off to the side, your body starting to feel sore as you move towards the crowded bar. You try to find an empty spot, looking as the poor bartender gets pulled in all directions — the idea that you would possibly get a drunk any time soon is long gone as you unwrap your jacket from your waist and head towards the exit. 

The fresh air hits you with full force as your body cools down. You could still hear the loud music thumping from inside the club as you move through the empty alleyway. Your mind is still a little fuzzy as you put on your jacket, getting the last of your cigarettes from the inside of your jacket. 

You stumble out of the alleyway, fighting to make your lighter work as the wind starts to pick up as you step onto the street. You groan out loud, shaking the lighter in your hands as if that would make it magically work. “Stupid thing better work, I just bought it last week!” ‘

You weren’t really paying attention as you kept on walking, the migraine you had back at the club making its presence known. You were not looking at your surroundings, or at the empty and wet street as your boots slap against the puddles and you were certainly not aware of the very bright lights coming down the road at a very alarming speed. 

Yoongi looks up at the road, the bright red jacket shining as the headlights of the car he was driving hit you. His foot slams down on the brakes, his heart beating a mile a minute before the care fortunately stops only inches from your body. He did not need a criminal record. 

 Your startled eyes meet his as you drop your lighter to the cold, wet asphalt with a clink. It would be a lie if you said that you didn’t almost pee your pants. After the initial shock wears off, you feel relieved and then, you feel only anger. It could be the drugs talking or it could be the alcohol that made you act way out of character. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?! You almost ran me over!” You angrily yelled as you slam your hands against the hood of the very expensive-looking car. Hair falling all over your face as you try to take through the tinted windows, trying to get a look at the culprit’s face. You stumble around, your boots not helping out the matter. 

You didn’t have to wait long before the man stepped out of the vehicle, anger apparent on his face as he made his way to the front of the car. “You didn’t scratch it, did you?” He ignores you as his eyes scan the hood, looking for any kind of scratches. “Are you serious right now? You could’ve killed me and you’re worried about your fucking car?!” 

He lets out a sigh of relief as he makes his motives there are no scratches on the car. “Key word, almost.” he mumbles, not sparing you a glance as he gets back in his car. 

“Uh, no you dipshit. I could have died.” You continue on, following him to his window —smacking your hands on it as you try to get his attention again. It seems as if you succeeded as he rolls the window down all the way. 

“Please don’t touch the window, I don’t want it to get filthy” The man says as he looks at you up and down with nothing but a bored expression plastered on his face. 

“Way to be rude, asshole” You mumble, leaning against the car. Your head leaning towards the window as you try to maintain your balance— your stomach starts to feel kind of funny, but the feeling of anger is still surpassing anything else that you could possibly be feeling. 

“I could be splattered in front of your car and you only car if your precious car doesn’t have a scratch on it.” You continue mumble, “It’s exactly how people like you are ruining our country!” There it is again, that funny feeling in your stomach. 

“You mean drug-addicted prostitutes like you aren’t?” Yoongi finally looks your way, an eyebrow raises as he gives you a skeptical look. He knew he was judging you without even knowing you but he was stressed enough as it is and you were the closest thing he could take his frustrations on you. Some stranger he might never get to see again. 

He can tell by the way your eyes widen and your mouth opens in a little gasp that he had offended you, he could feel guilt bubbling up in his chest as he realizes that he offended you deeply. He doesn’t let you see he feels that way as his face and demeanor becomes cold again— pushing the button to close his window, cutting your words as you continue cursing him out. 

You continue to tap on the window as you hear the sound of a revving engine. The rude motherfucker thinks he can get away with anything just because he has money. The  migraine and the feeling  you had in your stomach is something that you can no longer keep pushing down and as you throw up the little food you had managed to eat that day onto the side of his very slick and very clean car you knew that you had fucked up. You smirk as he parks the car once more, wiping at your lips. You take a step back as you watch him angrily get out of the car with eyebrows furrowed and disgust clearly showing on his face. 

You don’t get to live in the moment for long as your vision becomes blurry and your eyes catch only the glimpse of the headlights as your world becomes dark and you hit the ground with a loud thud. 

Yoongi instantly turns around, his eyes searching for your body before he finds you passed out in the middle of the road. “For fuck’s sake…” He mumbles angrily to himself.  For once, he was glad that he got lost on a road with little to no traffic at all. He takes one more look at the vomit on the ground, feeling queasy at the sight of it. He skips over it, careful to not get it on his very expensive shoes as he squats down next to your body. 

“Hey, stupid...Wake up.” Yoongi says as he nudges your shoulder, hearing soft snores coming from under a mountain of hair. He pushes you fully on your back, your hair falling back onto the wet concrete as he sees the peaceful look on your face -- along with some of the vomit still present on your chin. “Why does shit like this always happen to me?” Yoongi has an inquisitive look on his face as he looks around his surroundings, the cold air making his breath visible in front of him as he notices no one around the surrounding area. He could easily leave you right where you were, get in his car and just get the hell out of there. Another part of him is telling him to at least move you to the sidewalk, to the ‘nice’ and ‘comfortable looking garbage so that you at least don’t get used as a speed bump. 

And yet, something in his consciousness tells him that he was human not too long ago and while you were rude to him… he couldn’t just leave you to rot in the middle of nowhere. He had no idea where you had appeared from and as he gently patted the pockets of your jacket he could tell you didn’t have a cellphone or anything he could call your loved ones with. He could always call the police, but he’s sure he wouldn’t be able to explain the scene in front of him or how long they would take to actually get there. 

“Mom…” He hears you mumble in your deep sleep. 

“Hey..Wake up. You can’t stay here…” Yoongi tries one more time and as you offer no more words, he finally makes up his mind. He unbuttons his silk jacket, moving to place it on your legs before he moves his arms beneath your knees and your shoulders. “Damn, could you be any heavier?” He complains, adjusting you as best he could in your arms before moving back towards his vehicle. He struggles with opening the back door as he tries to not drop you, he ends up using his leg as he hooks his foot onto the handle and struggles to open it. Succeeding after a few minutes, finally placing you into the back seat. He steps away, making sure all of your limbs were inside the car before he slams the door—  hoping that it would wake you up and you could go on your merry way, but as he watches your unmoving body still sleeping in his back seat he knows that it was a futile attempt. 

“Fucking…..” He grumbles in annoyance as he skips over the vomit on the asphalt, getting into his car and driving off. 

Masterlist>>

[calumthoodposts]

Broken Home | Part 4

Warnings: Vomiting

Adronitis- the frustration with how long it takes to get to know someone.

------

It certainly wasn't a secret to either of the people sitting at the counter peacefully enjoying breakfast that the brunette boy was incredibly hungover. He had woken up in Reyna's bed with no recollection of what had happened after he left the bar. Now, there he was standing in the hallway entrance with nothing but his shorts on. Calum knew he looked worse for wear with his hair sticking up in every-which-way. He wasn't bothered to fix his appearance after he woke up to a cold bed and a glass of water accompanied by some type of painkiller on the nightstand beside him. Disorientation ran rampant through his head as he took in Reyna's room in all of its ordinariness. The only decoration that stood out was his t-shirt laying in a crumpled mess on the floor.

When the caramel-skinned girl was nowhere to be found, he jumped out of bed and traipsed to the kitchen to find her but, much to his dismay, he only saw his two friends looking at him with unreadable expressions. "You look like you got absolutely smashed last night," Ashton spoke, forking more food into his mouth. Calum said nothing and stumbled to the sink to place the empty glass down, wincing slightly at the noise it made. "Where's Reyn' at?" Calum dished himself some pancakes before sitting down beside Ashton at the island. His two friends were staring at him wordlessly like he was completely git, in which they wouldn't be absolutely wrong. "She went to work. She got the job, did she not tell you?" KayKay shifted her gaze from Calum to Ashton and gave him a look that the tan boy couldn't decipher. Her words were short and they had Calum feeling like a teenager who stayed out past his curfew. He had no idea Reyna had gotten the job and he felt irritated that she hadn't said anything to him. It was lost on him as to why he was kept out of the loop when he had made it evident that he cared. "No, she didn't," Calum spoke shortly, knowing his annoyance was clear. "It's not like you gave her much of a chance, mate." Ashton easily defended the girl. "You were gone all day yesterday and we all know what you were doing judging by the battle scars." Ashton nodding his head toward Calum made him furrow his eyebrows in confusion before he looked down at his chest. Hickies and scratch marks covered the expanse of his skin. Bluish-purplish marks everywhere with lines of red as an accent. "But we didn't…" Calum trailed off cluelessly. He wracked his brain for any recollection of what had happened between him getting smashed with his friends and him leaving the bar. He remembered pieces of the night like a jigsaw that he couldn't put together correctly. "You and Reyna didn't, no. Mate, I've got no idea who you were with last night. How pissed did you get?" Calum didn't answer his question. Instead, he felt his stomach turn as he desperately tried to remember the events of the night before. Dizzying images flashed behind his eyelids, fuzzy and blurred memories that had him racing down the hall and into the bathroom to throw up the glass of water he had drunk. He heaved into the porcelain bowl as everything started playing like a movie reel in his throbbing head. The quality was shit though, and Calum could hardly see what happened. He recalled the feeling of warm hands tearing his shirt off of him and lips attaching to his that tasted like some fruity drink. What he could see was a blonde girl writhing beneath him with her head thrown back into the pillows, and he heaved stomach acid into the toilet again. Nothing was vivid until he remembered stumbling through the door to the apartment and eventually into Reyna's room. Her dark hair against the white of her sheets was ethereal to him and she seemed to glow on her own without the help of the city lights, and her asking him to stay set a fire in his stomach. He was completely pissed, but the way she tensed in his arms shortly after he kissed her head had him screaming at himself mentally with regret for crossing that boundary. It took him the better half of an hour to drag himself off of the bathroom floor, flush his mess, and brush his teeth. His head throbbed and his ears rang at every sound. He got his shirt from Reyna's room in a pitiful attempt to cover the damage he had already displayed. KayKay and Ashton were curled on the couch staring at their phones when he finally reemerged into the room. There's nothing that he could think of to say. His best friends' disappointment was clear enough to him without them having to voice it out loud and, quite frankly, he wasn’t sure he could handle hearing it. "I put your pancakes in the fridge. The syrup is still on the counter. You should definitely eat something." The dark-haired girl offered the mess of a boy a soft smile before turning back to her phone and leaning her head on Ash's shoulder. Calum nodded even though he knew she wasn't paying attention to him anymore. Shuffling to the refrigerator, he retrieved his breakfast and sat back at the counter. The air was filled with unspoken tension that may have just been on his side of things but still made him uncomfortable nonetheless. "These are delicious, thank you, Kay," Calum mumbled through a mouthful of pancakes. He hated the silence that was as thick as smog. It made him think of the person he couldn't get out of his head. "I didn't make them, Reyna did." The knife in his heart twisted and the silence returned to the room, nearly suffocating him as he continued to eat. She wouldn't leave his mess of a brain and maybe when he stopped fighting it things would be okay.

---------

Seeing her home was strange. Reyna had been staying with Calum for three days before she was finally allowed to go back to her apartment and retrieve what she needed, not being allowed to stay since their rent was overdue and the landlord wanted to "cut his losses" instead of taking a risk with more drug paraphernalia. Calum thought it was unfair of him to make that call considering that the neighbor a few doors over had a syringe by the door accompanied by pornographic moans that were loud enough for the complexes a few streets over to hear. Reyna confirmed that it was a daily ritual. He could whinge all he wanted but the truth was that a part of him was happy that she had to stay with him in the least weird way possible. Within the three days she was staying with them, he had grown more perplexed by her. There were small habits she had and a different kind of humor that he never had seen in L.A. and that kept him curious about her. Calum wanted to delve deeper into who she was, and if that meant she would have to be evicted from her apartment and relocated into his temporary one so be it. He was selfish like that. His curiosity for her only grew when he took in the place she called home. The blinds were drawn and only a bit of light peaked through, a small detail that seemed less like a characteristic of her but more of her prat of an ex-boyfriend. At the same time, it seemed very much like her. Closed off at moments but, in others, open enough to see what made her tick. She disappeared down a slim hallway to where he assumed was her bedroom. Calum stood in the living room taking in the beer bottles and a to-go box sat messily scattered on the table in front of the couch. Each side of the musty green furniture had end tables, one being neat and supporting a lamp and a coaster, the other having used napkins, candy wrappers, plastic bags, and tobacco cans haphazardly scattered on top and underneath it. Calum didn't have to think too hard on which side was Reyna's. The rest of the room had minimal furniture and the only memento was the fist-sized hole in the wall. He wondered about how it got there and thought of asking Reyna. He was also afraid that he wouldn't want to hear her answer. Deciding that he had seen everything there was to see he followed to where Reyna had disappeared. She had a camo duffle bag placed on the end of the queen-sized bed where she stuffed clothes from her drawers into. There wasn't much and Calum noticed that camo didn't seem very much like her at all. Again, his eyes wandered from wall to wall, taking in the starkness of it all. A few miscellaneous items were strewn about on the top of one of the dressers, along with a bookcase in the corner that was full of novels on all of the shelves except one. There were picture frames and little trinkets on it and Calum inched forward with curiosity. The first of three frames held a picture of Reyna and a very fluffy looking dog. She was smiling widely down at it while it licked her chin with seemingly the same enthusiasm. Her hair was shorter in that picture, just below her jawline, and he couldn't help but feel like it fit her just as well as her waist-length curls did now. She looked beautiful either way. The one on the right was a picture of Aaron with the same dog, except Aaron's smile was much less smile-inducing and the dog looked elsewhere, seemingly distracted. It was the frame in the middle that caught Calum's attention. Reyna stood beside Aaron with a smile as large as life on her face. Her dimples protruded adorably and a lavender dress hung on her frame, clinging to all of the right places and making her look like a queen. Aaron's hand was wrapped around her waist while she clung onto him with adoration. Calum couldn't believe that Aaron had seen her look so breathtaking and still chose to treat her the way he did. Either the man had the world's supply of self-control or he was an absolute whacka, and Calum decided to go with the latter. Reyna cleared her throat from beside him and his gaze landed on her. He noticed that she had gotten thinner since then and the photo and her hair was much longer, meaning it must have been longer than a year or so since it had been taken. "That was at his sister's wedding. It was a really good day." Her voice was reminiscent and she stared with nostalgia. "You looked beautiful," Calum concluded and she snapped her eyes to him in mild surprise, her lips parting slightly as her wild eyes stared at him curiously. "I think you should take this one with you, as a keepsake." He didn't reach for the photo in the middle, but the one beside it instead. He didn't want to suggest keeping anything that might remind her of the tosser. She smiled as he handed the frame to her and was silent for a spell. "Her name was Duchess. The best dog I had ever owned and my best friend for the longest time." Calum watched as she stared at the photo in her hand. Neither of them said a word until she placed the duffel that was on her shoulder on the ground, unzipped it, and placed the frame inside of it. "Shall we?" Reyna asked with a smile that showed a surprising amount of confidence. Calum gently took the bag off of her shoulder and placed it over his own before she could protest. He gave her a look with raised eyebrows, daring her to complain. She petulantly huffed before walking toward the door with a slight shake of her head. Calum couldn't help the chuckle and the smile that spread across his face when she stopped suddenly, whispering a quiet 'wait' before she darted back to the bookshelf. She stood on her tiptoes and reached a book off of the top shelf, just barely reaching it with her fingertips, before running back to Calum's side after she had it safely clutched to her chest. "Okay, I'm ready."

--------

She didn't get back to the apartment until around six-thirty, which had Calum impatiently trying to pass the time by watching shitty tv shows that he didn't know the name of and didn't care to learn. He scrolled through his Instagram and Twitter countless numbers of times and texted his mum and Mali back. Ashton and KayKay had gone out with Luke, Michael, and the rest of their friends to a club a few miles away. Calum easily declined the offer to go with them, talking things out with Reyna being his top priority. Every breath he breathed in felt guilty. While he was still miles away from knowing all of her–a part of him feeling like he would never fully memorize her–he knew her well enough to know that his actions were stupid, especially considering her past. He stumbled drunkenly into her room, undoubtedly smelling like whiskey, which is what she had said was his staple. Calum was still covered in bite marks from the stranger with the long blonde hair, a person he would probably never see again, and had crawled into the dark-haired beauty's bed as though she was an afterthought. She was anything but. Even in his pissed state of fucking some girl senseless, he knew himself enough to know that his eyes were closed the entire time for one reason. Reyna quickly became an integral part of all of their lives. KayKay, Sierra, and Crystal were overjoyed to add another girl in the group, Sierra voicing how annoying it was to be "outnumbered by testosterone". Group outings had been very limited, but they hung out in the apartments nearly every day. Reyna was still quiet and introverted at times, but she was slowly relaxing and joining in on the banter one step at a time. Everyone grew to enjoy her collected presence even though her role in the group didn't have all of the kinks worked out yet. Crystal irritably grumbled when she found out that Reyna wasn't going to the club with them, which Calum presumed that she wouldn't have wanted to go anyway because of the atmosphere that might resurface unwanted memories. The girl had left the biggest impression on Calum, clearly. He didn't know what it was about her that wouldn't leave his mind. Perhaps, he thought, it was his inner-hero complex lusting to feel needed. He had come to her 'rescue', and was more than happy to walk out with a bruised face since he was accompanied by the girl. Maybe she was a little sister in some way to him that justified his overwhelming urge to protect her. That thought immediately shoved its way out of his mind and he cringed in slight disgust up at the ceiling. As much as he hated the idea of romance and love, he couldn't resist liking Reyna slightly more than just platonically. He was absolutely pissed at himself for it. Why he always liked women who loved other men was a complication lost on him entirely. He didn't want to like her. Love was something that only had led to heartbreak for him in the past and he had no intention of doing it again. Repeating the same action over and over again expecting a different result was insanity, they say. Calum allowed a childish whine to pass his lips when a voice in his head told him the cliche of this being different. After a whole week of spending ample time with her, he wasn't anywhere closer to really knowing her. He constantly tried to piece together fragments of the brief stories she would tell about herself, but none of them helped him understand what her favorite book was or favorite ice cream flavor. He knew her past was rocky and he often found that favorites could be chosen freely. He found himself wanting to know them all. These questions could only be answered by her though, and he'd more than willingly spend forever listening to her list them off. His lovesick afternoon was spent with thoughts swirling in his fried brain like a whirlpool. He needed to get a fucking grip. His prayers were answered and his slipping into insanity halted when he heard the door handle turn. He smiled in relief, slightly worried that she legged it, before lying back on the couch in a pathetic effort to pretend as though he wasn't anxiously waiting for her like a bloody lunatic. He lied on the armrest that allowed him to see the kitchen, conveniently, and he watched as she entered from the entryway. Her eyes immediately landed on him as she set her key on the kitchen counter. "Hey," she greeted sweetly. "Glad to see you survived your hangover." Calum chuckled at her and shook his head. Before he had a chance to reply, she spoke again. "Where is everyone else?" "They went to a club somewhere," Calum informed her and moved his legs off the couch as she came over to plop down on the side opposite of him with a sigh. She looked at him humorously. "And why didn't you go with them? Didn't fancy another sledgehammer to your skull in the morning?" "Fancy? You're sounding an awful lot like an Aussie." Calum retorted sarcastically. She rolled her eyes at him, but he couldn't help but find it endearing how she was picking up on some of their slang. She was like water, he noticed. Having the ability to adapt to anything that was put in front of her and he deeply admired her for it. "I actually wanted to talk to you." He cut to the chase, having already sat waiting for hours. Anticipation threatened to swallow him whole. "Oh?" Reyna looked at him and frowned. "What about?" Calum noticing the way her fingers laced together nervously spoke quickly to ease her worry. "Nothing bad, I think. I just wanted to apologize for last night." She cocked her head to the side and narrowed her eyes. “Apologize for what exactly?" "I feel like shit," Calum admitted and ran a hand through his hair. "I came in late and woke you up. I probably smelled outright terrible and not to mention-" Calum trailed off and looked down at his clothed chest. He wasn't sure whether or not she had even seen the marks, but he hated himself if she did. "Calum, it's okay. Really." She laughed at him but he failed to find any humor in it. "You didn't smell awful, you actually smelled like flowers because of whoever you had spent the night with. You're an adult and you're allowed to do those things with whoever you want. Not to mention you were even thoughtful enough to brush your teeth." I don't want to do 'those things' with whoever, he thought to himself. He wasn’t that man who slept around with whoever was fitting and he felt disheartened that she accepted that idea without any hesitance. Calum didn’t want her seeing him that way, but he knew that he hadn’t exactly shown her any differently. Her denying his apology on the premise that he didn't smell terrible but like another girl didn't help his case. Not only did he shag another girl, but he also brought her scent into Reyna's bed. She was great at acting like she was fine and maybe he could have imagined it, but he noticed the way her smile faltered at the mention of another girl and it gave him some sick sense of hope. "I'm still sorry." Calum tried again. If it was his imagination, he wanted to at least clear his conscience. "Apology not accepted," she tutted. "You're allowed to do whatever you want and my feelings shouldn’t stop you from doing anything differently." With that being her final word, she stood up and headed into the kitchen to fill a glass with water. She leaned against the counter and faced him, watching him with under analytical gaze. "At least let me say thank you." Calum pressed. "For what?" Her lips pressed into a line and it forced her dimple on her left cheek to announce itself, while her eyebrows crinkled together. "Leaving me water and pain meds for the unbearable headache I had. And everything else." "Calum, it's fine, really. It's the least I could do and plus I'm used to it." She spoke dismissively. Calum's shoulders tensed and he bit his lip, looking down at his laced-together fingers. He had fucked up. He wanted nothing more than to show Reyna the life that she had been missing out on; the life she deserved, and he wanted to be the one to give it to her. After last night's stupid antics, he didn't see himself as any better than Aaron. Calum had come back drunk off his arse and climbed into bed with her like it was some habitual chore akin to locking up a house before going to bed. She wasn't some damned assignment, and he wished he could remember everything that happened the night before. He wished he could remember the exact feeling of falling asleep next to her for the first time. But he couldn't, simply because the only time he had the guts to do so was when he was absolutely pissed out. "I'm sorry, that came out sounding very loaded and I didn't mean it like that." Reyna apologized quickly and made her way back to the couch that he was brooding on. "Aaron just used to- well, you know. It just became a habit." Habit. It astounded him how she could continually surround herself with assholes who treated her awfully and disguise it as something as common as a habit. While he didn’t think he was the devil in this particular instance, he hated how she wrote herself as the catalyst for it all. He wondered what other justifications were swimming through her mind to come wrongfully to his defense. Her nervous ticks were on full display. She gnawed on her lower lip and hugged her arms around her waist as she sat down close beside him. It wasn't enough for them to be touching and he wouldn't mind if they were, but he could see how she gingerly calculated everything she did. He wished desperately that he could take one look at her and know what she was thinking, but she left him without the slightest clue. "I know you didn't. I just hate myself for putting you in a position that can be in any way similar to what he did." Calum brought his attention to her face that was ridden with concern and hesitancy. "You're already living with the memory. I don't want to be a walking reminder." Her hand suddenly resting innocently on his thigh broke the unspoken touch barrier she had previously. "Calum, you're so far from that." What a little shit he was for cooking up an apology just for it to end with her consoling him. This was a woman who had gone through hell already, never failing to bring him peace of mind. She was a rock. Life was hard and strange and for the better half of, it utter shit. She had gone through the worst of it, so when she was faced with a problem, she sat down, took a deep breath, tied up her shoelaces, and got on with it. "You helped me when I couldn't help myself. Hell, you still do. I know a week isn't a lot of time to get to know someone and I probably don't know half as much about you as I think I do, but you're the most grateful, thoughtful, and forgiving person I've ever met." Calum's steady gaze was on her. He took in the way her lips moved when she spoke and how they curled upward as she offered him an endearing smile. “Well, when you aren’t being a prideful dickhead, that is.” Calum chuckled at her halfheartedly, having long since relaxed under her touch, her confession kept his heart beating rapidly in his chest. Like firestones, he rested his hand on hers and there were static sparks everywhere. Admiration danced like lights in her warm eyes that watched him so carefully, pondering what she was going to say next. "Hood, you are pretty much the only thing that makes me want to get up in the morning. Me waking up beside you was a goddamn blessing."

[monstermayi]

F!Reader & Shadow Creature (NSFW)

NSFW I had in my head and decided to write. Be kind, first time doing this and I don’t write smut too often.

Moving out of your parents place had been a big step. It was the first time you had ever really been away from them; even during college you were only a few minutes drive from their house. That had partly been the reason you were moving out into the country in the first place.

All your life it felt like you never had a space for yourself. An only child, your parents spent their every waking moment it seemed on you, checking up on you and constantly asking questions about your life. How was school going? Meet any cute boys? What are you going to do for a career? You loved your parents, and you wouldn’t want anything to change, but sometimes you just needed some alone time. You had that in college, but now that you’d graduated and where making a decent living for yourself there was nowhere you could go that was just yours. Until now.

You had been planning on moving out for months. You had found a nice little place on a small plot of land that was surprisingly cheap, and almost jumped at the opportunity to purchase it. Your mother, though, warned you against buying it. She said that it was too cheap, there had to be something wrong with it. There had to be a catch. You both had taken a trip up to see it for yourselves, and having not found anything wrong with it except a few moth balls and lint in the empty rooms, she relented. The little cottage was yours, and you couldn’t wait to finally get away.

Moving had been fairly easy. The only thing that caused an issue was your bed, but afterwards things went smoothly. You didn’t have much, most of your money spent on buying and cleaning up the place, so there wasn’t much furniture. But it was yours, and your parents helped pitch in enough that soon you even had a couch and coffee table. Everything else like a dining table and chairs, extra seating, and a stand for your tv would come later. Most of the furniture you had was already in your bedroom.

You had been in the house a week before you started noticing things were... off, in the house. Cold spots in certain places in the rooms that seemed to move from corner to corner. Footsteps in other rooms. You chalked it up to the place being old. Old houses were drafty and always settling. There was nothing wrong with your house. But then more odd things started to take place. Your keys disappearing whenever you planned on leaving the house, and reappearing in completely different locations from where you put them. You thought, maybe you were just forgetting where you set them down? Then pieces of clothing would go missing even when you had just laid them out. The sweater you were going to put on after your shower? Gone, as if it fell through some portal into another dimension, never to be seen again. When your underwear started to disappear was when you got mad. Whatever was happening, be it a spirit or ghost or your own subconscious or whatever, it was fucking with you and this was the last straw. From then on you started actively trying to find the source. Any footsteps you heard resulted in you storming into whatever room they were in and almost tearing up the place trying to catch whatever it was in the act. Any missing clothes were searched for till you were red in the face. Sometimes, if you were quick enough, you’d catch a glimpse of something, but it was always too fast to see. Like a shadow just leaving. You could never tell if what you saw was real or not.

After about a month of this you gave up. You relaxed out in your living room on the couch and announced, whether for your own benefit or for whatever was in your house, that you were done trying to find it. For some inexplicable reason you suddenly felt disappointed after saying it. Maybe because you were giving up the chase? You had to admit, after a time, it had kind of been fun. Like you and the unseen entity in the house were playing a game of sorts, and now you were quitting without seeing who would win in the end.

Laying there you started to get drowsy, and quickly fell into a doze, the breeze coming in softly through your front screen door relaxing you. You lost track of time, and when you did wake it was slowly, and to a strange massaging on your head. It felt like someone was petting your hair. You figured your mother had stopped by for a visit and relaxed into the petting, humming contentedly. The hand jerked to stop, but when you did nothing more it tentatively began again, playing with the strands of your hair.

It had been some time since she had done this for you, and it always put you at ease. The head massage was just what you needed after the stress of trying to figure out what was going on inside your house. After a few minutes you felt kisses on your hair, and forehead. Not usually something your mother did when she rubbed your head but she probably just missed her only baby, so you let it slide. Then the kisses started to move down, onto your cheeks, and you noticed the lips were much colder than they should be. That, and there was an unmistakable scrape of teeth in them, much sharper than normal human teeth. This was not your mother. What the fuck was this?

Your eyes flew open and you froze, staring upside down at the thing kissing you. At first you thought it had gotten dark and you had slept longer than you intended, but the darkness you were looking at was moving, almost shifting within itself like smoke. You could see a kind of shape, humanoid in the loosest of ways, but no distinguishing features. It hadn’t noticed you were staring at it yet, continuing to kiss down your cheek and to you jaw, teeth and possibly a tongue flicking out to nibble and taste as it went. You didn’t want to admit it but it felt good. Really good. It had been a while since you had been close to anyone, and with everything that had been going on the past few months, even taking time out of your day to take care of yourself had escaped you. Whenever you tried to please yourself in the past you had to stop, feeling like someone had been watching. And living out alone in the country with no neighbors close by put a new kind of fear in you, one you could handle, but still. Now you had a pretty good idea of who, or rather what, had been watching.

You felt paralyzed, half from fear and half from curiosity. How far would this thing go till it noticed you were awake? It’s mouth had reached your neck, and was busy sucking on certain parts that made your toes curl in your socks. You had to bite down on your tongue to keep from saying anything. So distracted by what it’s mouth was doing you didn’t realize till it was too late that it’s hands had reached forward and were now playing with your breasts, taloned fingers circling your nipples. That got a cry from you, the unexpected sensations taking over. The shadow creature stilled immediately, and you saw two yellow glowing eyes lift from your neck and look at you. It had no other facial features except a tongue that was slowly retreating back into its mouth, where you could see black teeth gleaming at you. It seemed tense, like it was about to bolt, and for whatever insane reason, you didn’t want that. Whatever it was hadn’t harmed you, and didn’t seem intent to. The worst it had done was steal some of your clothes, and at the rate your body was heating up, you hoped it would continue that on you. Throwing caution, and probably your sanity, out the window, you slide your hands over its, and squeezed them around your breasts, hoping it got the message that you wanted it to continue.

If faceless shadow creatures could look surprised this one certainly did, eyes seeming to flicker from you to your hands and back, as if making sure this was what you wanted. You nodded the slightest bit, taking a deep breath when it squeezed of it own volition. Taking your accompanying sigh as a green light, it lowered its face back to your neck and started licking and sucking again as its hands continued to tease your nipples. This time around you didn’t bother to stop the noises coming out of you, and neither did it. You could now hear little pleased grunts and growls coming from where its throat seemed to be. You could feel yourself getting wet, needing to clench your legs together to get some kind of pressure where you needed it. The creature continued to play with your breasts, never doing more than giving the softest tweaks and circling to your nipples, the little nubs harder than you’ve ever felt them. It was strange too, as it seemed like the creature could touch you through your clothes, not needing to take them off to torment you. God, what you’d give for it to just pinch or rub over them. The teasing was killing you.

As if reaching your mind, you felt cool fingers rub over the tips of your nipples and your back arched up off the couch, the pleasure of the sudden action seeming to shoot straight to your clit. The creature rubbed and pinched and played with them as you cried out, writhing in its hold. Its mouth soon joined, tongue swirling around the bud of one breast and switching to the other while you moaned below it. While it had you preoccupied, you felt something slither down your body to your jeans, like a cool tentacle, you couldn’t be sure, and start to tease at the top of you mound. You parted you legs, one foot falling to the floor, and were rewarded with it sliding down and curling around your clit. The scream you let out would have alerted the neighbors if you had any, but for what it was worth, the entity above you seemed immensely pleased. The tentacle started rhythmically massaging and rolling your clit in its hold, gently at first then gaining in speed and pressure, making your body twitch from the onslaught. It felt like nothing you had ever felt before. You had had past lovers go down on you, and while some of them had been quite skilled, nothing ever felt like this. This was something else. You could feel the hood of your clit being coaxed up and almost fainted when you felt it swirling around your exposed clit like it was on a mission. It was almost scary how quickly your orgasm was approaching. Only now it seemed to be in the mood to play with you longer, like it wanted to keep you in this state.

You could feel the orgasm rising but it kept backing away just enough to edge you but not let you go over. Constantly it would tease and play with your clit and nipples till you thought finally you were going to cum only to back off at the last second. You begged every time, only to be denied over and over again. Finally, after edging you six times in a row, the entity moved down to where its head was down in front of your pussy, glowing yellow eyes staring up at you. The tentacle, now that you could see, was still there, and you could feel it teasing around the edges of your aching clit. You released frustrated plea to please just let you cum, and the entity lowered its mouth to you. Your jeans were ruined, never mind your underwear, but it touched you through them as if you weren’t wearing any at all. The first lick from the bottom to the top of your pussy had you squirming, and it had to hold you down as it started to eat you out in earnest. The tentacle rubbed and swirled around your clit while it’s tongue dipped inside and rubbed itself along your walls, it being long enough to find your g spot and torment it till you were sweating and screaming. You came faster and harder than you ever had in your life, every muscle seizing up as it rocked from your clit outward, the pleasure making your body feel like it was floating. The creature continued to eat you out and work you through the orgasm, continuing to do so through the over stimulation until you were cumming again, even harder, almost passing out at the feeling ripping through you.

After the second mind shattering orgasm the entity slowed and stopped, only occasionally giving little licks to your clit and watching your body twitch from it. You could barely move, legs shaking involuntarily as you tried to catch your breath. You had to push it away from you, the licking it was still giving becoming too much to bare. The creature purred and seemed to slithered up your body, stretching out like a cat and cuddling into your neck as it relaxed on top of you. There was enough weight that you could feel it but it was light, a comforting pressure instead of crushing considering it was much larger than you. You rubbed your hands over its back, feeling the vibrations as it purred more, and wondered at the texture of it. It was cold, though not freezing, and it was light feeling. Like passing your hand through mist. You lifted your hand and saw tiny wisps of inky blackness trail with it then rejoin into its body.

For a few minutes you laid there with the creature, occasionally speaking to it. It didn’t seem to have the ability to speak but it was clear it understood you. You asked it yes or no questions, finding out that way that the entity was genderless and liked being called “They” and “Them”, and had apparently lived in the house for a few years, the last occupants having gotten too spooked by their games to stay. They liked to play games like hiding objects and sometimes scaring people to keep from getting too bored. Never anything heinous, they didn’t want to hurt anyone, but they were lonely and that was the only way they could have fun. They had no friends or family that they knew of, seeming to have always existed. You were the first person that had not run away, and had in fact taken an interest in them. Even played with them!

From your line of questioning, they seemed to grow embarrassed, and admitted through a series of head nods and shakes that they had grown a kind of crush on you, admitting to hiding your keys to keep you at home longer, and taking your clothes to have some part of you with them when you were gone. The underwear incident came a little later, when they began to get more interested in you sexually. Humans were interesting, and you were interesting, and after the one night they watched you trying to masturbate they became infatuated with making you feel good. Which is what lead to what happened just a few minutes ago. They knew you were stressed, and didn’t want to stop playing with you, so they thought maybe playing with you might help. They apologized of course, knowing it was wrong to take things and touch you without permission, but they relaxed when you said you didn’t mind, and that they just needed to ask next time.

The words “next time” got them purring again, and nuzzling into you more. It was actually kind of cute, like a puppy or a kitten, and you pressed kisses to the top of where their head was and where you thought their mouth might be. It was hard to tell due to everything blending seamlessly into their body when not in use, but they helped you out and kissed you back, cool tongue slipping inside and rubbing against yours. You felt something start to rub against your pussy again and groaned, hips twitching when multiple wispy tentacles easily slipped through your lips and started teasing your entrance and clit. Head falling back, you watched them grin and tilt their head down to look at you as they began removing your clothes this time, never once letting up on your pussy as they undress you. Once you were completely naked, they leaned back and took their time just watching you as you clutched at them and the couch, writing from the building pleasure between your legs. They leaned back down and kissed you, and as your third and not even close to final orgasm of the night shook through you, you could tell things were going to get a more interesting in your house now.

You couldn’t wait!

[csrolereversal]

CS Role Reversal Halloweek 2019 Roundup

It is time! Halloween has passed and all the art and stories have been posted! I am so grateful for those who took part in the event, I couldn’t have asked for a better beginning.

I really want to thank everyone, Artists and Writers and also Readers - yes, always capital letter, everyone is Amazing.

And now, what you’ve been waiting for days - the Roundup (I have no idea whether it is just round-up or round up, I just went with what wordreference told me, that’s my curse lol)

October 25th

- @courtorderedcake ‘s wonderful mind conjured this awesome world and @awkwardnessandbaseball found the perfect words to describe it in:

→ A Fan of Every Part of You

Summary: Killian Jones has a really loud, destructive upstairs neighbor, and he’s about to lose his patience with them. But when he discovers that it’s a beautiful witch with a soft spot for his dangerous familiar, Captain, that complicates things just a bit.

- @clockadile showed us that watercolors can create something stunning right here, and @swanslieutenant dragged us in that world with:

→ caught in irons

Summary: Cursed to become a monster at the rising of the full moon, Emma enlists Hook’s help to venture across the sea to find the only one who can cure her. But with the secret held tight to her chest and the full moon edging closer, sometimes secrecy and lies can be worse than the darkest curse. 

October 26th

- @darkcolinodonorgasm brought back to life her undying love for vampires in her piece and @sherlockianwhovian brought the whole piece to life in:

→ Dawn Is A Feeling

Summary: Princess Emma has always heard tales whispered about the crumbling castle in the mountains and with adulthood comes independence, giving her the opportunity to discover the castle’s secrets once and for all. Will she find her end or perhaps her beginning?

- the first contribution to the event of @hollyethecurious is this wonderful ghostly piece which @capnjay21 has turned into a wonderful mysterious ghost story:

→ A House is Never Still

Summary: Five years ago, Emma Swan disappeared under mysterious circumstances. Killian Jones’ disappearance, well, not so mysterious – given the denizens of Storybrooke all but blamed him for her murder. Drawn back to town by a series of strange events, he soon realises the story of what really happened the night she vanished is beginning to unravel, and what’s more: it isn’t over.

October 27th

- inside a wonderful, bright pumpkin, @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 gives us all the family feels @stahlop then brought us into with her:

→ Not all Treasure is Silver and Gold (sometimes it’s chocolate)

Summary: Killian takes his children on a trick or treat treasure hunt to learn about the town’s history and reflects on his own in the process.

- the bloody brilliant @artistic-writer blows us away with her bloody wonderful wolfman!Killian, for which @lillpon wrote:

→ To Give One’s Trust

Summary: Captain Hook has been a werewolf for centuries, in control of his wild state. When he gets kidnapped and experimented upon, his desperate actions to escape have dire consequences for him. When Emma Swan meets a feral werewolf on a night with a full moon, she can sense that there’s something more to that creature. Perhaps, with the right amount of trust, she can help him help himself.

October 28th

- @clockadile and her watercolours hit us again and though at first you can see peace in her art, if you look closer, you can see there’s so much more to it, and that more is what @wellhellotragic explored in her amazing fic:

→ Dead in the Water

Summary: Killian Jones may have just had the worst year of his life. The loss of his hand, of his career, and of his pride were almost more than he could take. In a bid to reclaim his life, Killian decided it was time to face his fears, and get back on the metaphorical horse, or in his case, back on the water. Only, the purchase of a haunted second-hand boat may just come at the cost of his sanity.

- @courtorderedcake drags us to Victorian London with her majestic art of which @snowbellewells tells us the story in:

→ The Case of the Heart in Armor

Summary: Killian “Holmes” Jones is rarely surprised or shocked anymore, but that all changes when he meets one very stubborn - and very beautiful - pickpocket, and trouble brews in the distance, hidden by the London fog…

October 29th

- for whump lovers (and not only them!) @cocohook38 created bloody brilliant art which you can feel as you look at it and which @hollyethecurious​ brought to life in her:

→ In the Darkness of my Mind

Summary: It still struck Killian as an oddity that a town created by magic and surrounded by its craftings day in and day out would throw itself so fully into the customs of what this land referred to as Halloween. Emma had told him about the holiday’s origins, the belief many held about the veil between worlds being thin enough for the dead to pass over into the land of the living. Never did he imagine that such a phenomena would actually occur, or that he would be the one responsible for allowing an old, formidable foe return from the bowels of the Underworld.

- @kitsunewingstar​ ‘s entry has me widen my eyes in shock and my jaw drop, and yours will too when you look at it. All we have to see if whether or not @gingerchangeling​ will find out the truth behind the art in her:

→ The Misthaven Witch

Summary: When Will Scarlett drunkenly accusess KIllian Jones of being afraid of the town’s local legend, he of course has to set his inebriated friend straight. Because there is nothing to fear about the ruins of Misthaven…… and the witch rumored to reside there.

October 30th

- another piece from @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713​ , another piece that has me shocked because of its beauty, just like @profdanglaisstuff​ ‘s words do in:

→ come sit at our feast

Summary:It’s Halloween, when all the weird and wondrous beasts of the world creep out of the shadows and throw themselves one hell of a party. For Emma Swan and Killian Jones, witch and shapeshifter respectively, it’s a chance to kick back, get high, and watch the mayhem unfold…

- another amazing piece from @hollyethecurious​ for which @theonceoverthinker​ created a magnificent poem:

→ Doppleganger on the Docks

Summary: Even in Storybrooke, the town where most anything can happen, Killian doesn’t expect much chaos when he and Emma go sailing together. But hey, for good or ill, that’s their town, right?

- @cocohook38​ hits again! Another beautiful, magnificent and amazingly detailed set of sketches for which @darkcolinodonorgasm​ created more words that she thought she would - and it’s not over! - in:

→ Kiss the Hell out of me

Summary: Princess Emma had been warned not to seek the Devil of the seas, the pirate captain whose thirst for revenge left only one man alive after every attack so he would tell the tale of the demon that had taken his brothers’ lives. But desperate times call for desperate measures: she has a kingdom to save, and the man who carries himself as a horned king is her only hope. Too bad that Killian Jones is not a man anymore. 

October 31st

- @carpedzem​ ‘s art melted me, I’ve basically turned into the hearty-eyed pumpkin you can spot right here, and @lassluna​ ‘s wonderful fic didn’t help! Get even more fluffy feelings in:

→ The Pumpkin Incident

Summary: It was supposed to be a quick trip to the pumpkin patch. Quick in and out, grab the pumpkins and get home. She was not supposed to meet newcomer Killian Jones. She was certainly not supposed to end up trick or treating with Henry, a pirate and little Robin Hood. (But why does he look so damn good as a pirate?!)

- and there’s no Halloween without a black and orange piece, which is what @darkcolinodonorgasm​ did in her last contribution to the event from which the amazing @thisonesatellite​ took all the angst from to give us the utterly amazing fic that is:

→ All The Darkness In The World

Summary: Love is the greatest weapon of all.

- and last but not least, is @mariakov81​ ‘s wonderful, simply beautiful pieces with colours so warm they make me feel warm inside and for which @pirateherokillian​ created lovely kinda (no, okay, totally) drunken banter in:

→ Witches and Romans

Summary: Halloween keeps throwing the unexpected at Killian Jones.

And that’s a wrap on the first Role Reversal event ever! Again, thank you so much to all of you, and... keep your eyes open, because something fluffy your way comes ;)

[reckoningss]

The Shield - Part 7

Summary: Homicide detectives Mia Wallace and Thor Odinson are partners with a reputation for closing the tough cases. Their latest, however, proves to be more difficult than expected as the two contend with a killer with an interesting MO, an overbearing District Attorney, and unreconciled feelings.

Pairing: Detective!Thor x OC (Mia Wallace)

Warnings: Language, Mild violence, discussions of death

Wordcount: 2.7k

“I just... I just can’t believe she’s really gone.” 

Marsha  Peters further crumpled the piece of tissue clutched between her slender fingers to about the same density of a supermassive black hole and dabbed the tiny sodden ball beneath her red-rimmed eyes. The action removed more than a little bit of concealer. She hiccupped another sob. “I keep expecting her to call me over to watch The Bachelorette.” 

Thor pressed his lips into a grim, yet sympathetic, line, and patted Marsha’s quivering shoulder. “I don’t have cable, so we would always have wine and movies at her place and now it’s a crime scene.” 

Mia felt sorry for her too. 

Women like Marsha Peters and Sharon Carter weren’t used to not being so put together. Losing control of their lives wasn’t something that they expected, and so it wasn’t something they could ever truly plan for. But good God, if they didn’t look great when it happened. 

Mia took the thin woman in -- her black hair, still gleaming, but with a little less luster, delicate wisps of it escaping her intricate updo in a way that said “help me” more than it said “hopeless.” Her silk top was wrinkled but expensive, the same as her blue-black pencil skirt. And the dark circles her constant dabbing revealed beneath her green eyes made them appear larger when they sparkled with tears. She sagged pitifully against the frame of her front door.

Everything about her inspired protectiveness, demanding that everyone who saw her give her all the comfort and reassurance they could muster. Mia herself nearly felt like folding the woman into a hug. Nearly. 

They were back at the site of Annette Gordon’s murder, following up with her neighbor and apparent best friend from down the hall. They were all back, Mia reminded herself. Sharon stood between her and Thor, dark eyes bright with interest. Mia was half surprised the DA hadn’t taken out a pad of paper and a pen to take supplementary notes to the ones Mia had already jotted down. 

It had become something of a point of contention in the week since their appointment as security detail -- Mia and Thor conducted their investigation, Sharon took issue with some part of their procedure, and she and Mia would argue while Thor remained painfully silent only to talk Mia down in private later. Wash, rinse, repeat. She was developing a headache from the speed with which they moved through the cycle every day. 

Thor was always quick to remind her that Sharon wasn't the enemy. “We all want the same things,” he liked to say. Mia partially disagreed with that. Sure they both wanted the killer behind bars, but where Sharon wanted power and recognition, Mia’s needs were more simple. At the end of the day, she wanted her partner to be just that -- her partner -- and not Sharon’s arm candy down at city hall. She knew it wasn’t a very generous thought, but the mental image didn’t inspire very many generous feelings, so she wouldn’t fault herself for internal honesty.

“Did she...have any enemies that you know of? Anyone with a less positive perception of her?”

Marsha managed a watery smile. “I wouldn’t know who. Annette was so cordial! You know, she organized the monthly wine social for all the tenants. She said everyone knew everyone in Vermont and she wanted it to be like that here. She missed that sense of community.” Another sniffling sigh. “She invited everyone. Even Mr. Walski upstairs and he’s practically a shut-in. Never talks to anyone, not nicely anyway, and she marched all the way upstairs when he didn’t RSVP to say no and handed him the invitation herself.” She let loose a tinkling laugh that, under any other circumstance, would be infectious. A few more tears slipped down her porcelain cheeks. 

Thor shot Mia and glance overtop Sharon’s head, alarm was plain as day in his eyes undercut by something else -- recognition. They’d met more than one loved one of a murder victim who wavered somewhere between despair and giddy hysteria. No sooner had Marsha started laughing than she sobered again, her mouth shrinking to a thin, pale line, her eyes wide and wet. 

“I won’t pretend,” she began again, her voice quavering, “that everyone loved her. Because they didn’t. She could come on...a little strong. She knew that people didn’t like her -- exes, people at the office. But this? I can’t imagine anyone disliking her enough to do this.” 

Mia scribbled absently on her pad. They’d already checked into Annette’s relations and acquaintances to find little of note, and there’d yet to be any recognizable overlap between her life and that of the killer’s other victims. There just had to be something else. 

“Did you notice anyone out of the ordinary hanging around before that night? Anyone at all in or around the building? Maintenance men or service pro-” 

“Or anyone since?”

Mia bristled at Sharon’s interjection, gritting her teeth and cutting an eye at the shorter woman. She’d intended to ease into that portion of the question.

Marsha’s eyes went wide, thin brows furrowing. “No but- not that I can think of. Should I be worried?” She flitted her frightened gaze between the three of them. “Is he going to come back? Do it again? Here?”

“That-” Mia shot daggers at Sharon before she could open her mouth, “isn’t likely. This guy’s been operating under a pattern. He’ll probably just move on.” 

Sharon didn’t seem to be satisfied with that answer. “Do you have a license to carry?” 

Marsha’s eyes were as big as saucers now. “No. Shoul-” 

“Here.” Sharon whipped a business card out of her purse and scribbled something with more speed than Mia had ever known her to use. She shoved it into Annette’s pale hands, squeezed in next to the crumpled tissue. “When you get one, go here. It’s where I got my pistol. Give them my name.” 

“Yo-you think I’ll need a gun? He’s going to come back here isn’t he?” 

 The back of Mia’s neck was growing hot, anger creeping up to strangle her. She could already imagine the heated remarks she and Sharon would exchange on the ride back to the station, while Thor -- predictably -- stayed neutral and quiet. 

Thankfully, mercifully, Thor stepped in now. “No one’s saying that. This guy hasn’t struck the same place twice since he started and he won’t want to break pattern now.” 

Sharon almost continued, but Thor cut her off. “Your best bet is to look into a home security system. Automated locks and some cameras. I’m sure...”

At the far end of the hall, near the stairs, a floorboard creaked so low Mia nearly didn’t hear it beneath the rumble of Thor’s voice. Her gaze was drawn to the dark stairwell, eyes straining into the darkness of the cracked exit door...when her ears caught the muttered hiss of “shit!” Something gleamed in the sparse light. 

“Get inside!” Mia turned her back on the DA, using her own body as a shield and keeping eyes on the figure disappearing down the stairwell as the door swung shut. Sharon and Marsha both jumped at her hardened tone, and Sharon began to protest, but Mia didn’t care. Turning she grabbed Sharon by the shoulders and shoved her into Marsha’s open doorway. “Lock the door. You do not open until you see either me or Odinson, got it?” 

She didn’t wait for a response. Knowing that Thor would get the two women secured, Mia took off down the hallway at a sprint. She could hear feet hammering against the old stairs as she flung the door open.

“Stop!” Mia unclipped the gun holster beneath her jacket as she ran. “Police!”

Whoever had been watching them, didn’t even break stride. Mia scrambled to the banister and peered over, training her pistol down ahead of her. A figure in black clambered downward, nearly two floors below her now and descending fast. 

“Shit! He’s heading down!” Mia shouted, hoping Thor heard her as she threw herself down the first flight. 

She took the stairs two at a time -- three when speed and balance allowed -- her shoulders slamming into the walls as she hurtled into each landing only to rocket down the next flight. She could barely keep enough air in her lungs, but she knew this feeling -- the adrenaline, the rush. It pushed her faster. Made her sharper. 

Mia flew over the last flight of stairs onto the ground level, boots jarring against the stone floor just as the figure reached the door to the lobby. He was wheezing with the effort, one big hand splayed across the wood of the door and he pushed.

“POLICE!”

Mia leaped. 

The pair of them -- Mia and this fleeing figure -- spilled into the lobby in a grappling, grunting heap. Something black skittered away from them across the floor. Mia straddled the man’s back, grabbing his right arm and wrenching it behind his back as he struggled. 

“Get off me!” 

“Not a chance.” She shoved her knee across the restricted arm, bearing down with her weight to keep it in place. The man jerked back with his free arm, catching Mia’s left brow with a sharp elbow. Light bloomed behind her eyelids, but she shook it off. Cursing, Mia wrestled his other arm down and pressed the muzzle of her gun between the man’s shoulder blades. “Stop. Resisting.” 

The sensation gave the man some pause. He stopped squirming, but  he cut one wild eye at her, pressing his sweaty cheek to the stone as he spat, “this is excessive force!” 

“Uh-huh.” Mia freed her handcuffs from her back pocket and tightened one cuff around the man’s wrist. Sure as day, she could already feel a warm trickle of blood rolling down the side of her face. “I identified myself and gave you a direct order to stop. You ran.”

“I feared for my safety!”

“Was that before or after you hid in a stairwell to eavesdrop on official police business? Hear anything interesting?” Mia clapped the other cuff around the man’s wrist and tightened.

He grunted as she pulled him to his feet, slotting the pistol back into her holster. “Can’t I just be a concerned citizen?” 

“A concerned citizen who runs from the police?” Both Mia’s and the man’s heads snapped to Thor as he emerged from the elevator. He cocked a disbelieving eyebrow. 

The toe of his shoe prodded something as he walked and he bent to pick it up. “What’s this?” 

“That’s private property! MY private property!” The man started squirming again, struggling to get out of Mia’s grip. 

She held on tighter, clenching her jaw. “Calm. Down.” 

Thor lifted the Canon DSLR camera to eye level and inspected it. He shook it at the man. “Catch anything good?” 

“Nothing that’s your business!”

“We’ll let CSIs determine that. Could be evidence.” Thor strode forward and snatched the black ballcap off of the man’s head. He flinched away. “She said. Stop. Struggling.” 

Peering around the (now silent) suspect, Thor caught sight of his partner’s split brow.  A storm front of anger swept across his face and he scowled at the man before slipping his phone out of his pocket and punching at the screen. Mia could hear the faint ring of an outgoing call as he lifted it to his ear, never taking his eyes off the man.

“Yeah, Parker? I’m going to need you to come down to the Gordon crime scene and pick up a suspect. Wallace and I need to secure the DA.” 

The man stiffened in front of Mia. “What? Wait, wait, wait, suspect? Am I under arrest?” 

The look in Thor’s eyes said something akin to ‘are you stupid?’ “Yeah. You are.”

“For what?” 

Mia rolled her eyes at the indignation in his voice. “Resisting arrest, smartass.”

“Assault of an officer,” Thor added, “if you’re feeling lucky.” 

“Wait.” The man craned his neck to lock eyes with Mia, his own huge with alarm. “This is all a big misunderstanding!” 

Mia snorted. It would seem that now the man was trying for some level of cordiality now. Thor only nodded, his feigned sympathy seemed alarmingly sincere. He patted the man’s back like an old friend. “We’ll sort all that out at the station.” 

Right on cue, officers Parker and Leeds strolled through the door, more than eager to take part in the high profile investigation. Mia and Thor passed the suspect off to them for transport back to the station where he’d be processed and put in a room for questioning. Mia took her time, moving toward the elevator as they left, she hoped he waited for hours. 

As they hummed upward in the metal box, Mia was keenly aware of Thor’s eyes on her.

“What?” She tried to squint at him but grimaced instead, reminded of the wound she’d soon be adding to her catalog of scars. 

“Come here.” Thor’s hand wrapped around the back of her neck, cradling the base of her skull as he drew her in. With the other, he skated his fingers along her jaw, extending a thumb to swipe at the trickle of blood drying on her temple. “You ok?”

Mia shuddered despite the familiar warmth. “I’m fine, it’s nothing.” She tried to shrug out of his hold, but Thor cupped her face and dipped his head.

His dark eyes caught hers and searching. “Mi, are you all right?” 

Mia could feel the back of her neck growing hot again, but this time, it wasn’t anger. She quietly prayed her partner wouldn’t feel the flush rising in her cheeks. “I’m fine, Thor,” she pulled away from his caring touch, swatting him with more good humor than she felt. “Don’t baby me.

His blue eyes watched her carefully, though he said nothing. But Mia hoped he couldn’t read what she’d really wanted to say all over her face. 

Part 8

[realityhelixcreates]

Lasabrjotr Chapter 63: Land of Enchantment

Chapters: 63/? Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Mature Warnings: none Relationships: Loki x Reader (There We Go) Characters: Loki (Marvel), Heimdall(Marvel), Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), What Beautiful Music They Make, Even When Diner Food Is Bad It’s Still Pretty Good, Not Very Healthy Though, Get Thee To A Waffle House

Summary:   Loki visits Townsvill, USA

Loki had to admit a grudging respect for the human invention known as the internet. Such lawlessness. Such chaos. Such memes! And the fact that anything, anything at all, could be found there. Including information on the-to Loki's surprise-thousands of species of cicadas. It was one of the great mysteries of Midgard; this grand proliferation of living things. When just one version of something would have been fine, there somehow had to be dozens to thousands of kinds of that thing. Especially among the insect world. Why so many beetles? Why?

In your vast Iowa, there seemed to be almost twenty species, though, aside from size and color, there didn't seem to be much difference between them. They were all shaped like fat teardrops, with lacy, gossamer wings covering, but not hiding, their chubby, pointed abdomens. He did learn some interesting insect facts-there were some that only appeared every decade or so, some even went a full seventeen years without showing up, but when they did...

The word 'swarm' seemed to put it lightly.

Horrifying.

He learned about the singing frogs, and their whimsical names; the Bullfrog, the Chorus Frog, the Spring Peeper.

He researched the crickets, locusts, and grasshoppers.

He found recordings of all of these and more-coyotes, owls, the soft squeaking of bats. The loud, crepuscular Swifts, the equally loud, nocturnal Whip-Poor-Will, a well camouflaged bird named after its signature cry.

He could do something with all of this.

In the times in between doing his princely duties, he had things prepared. Some silk needed to be woven, some wooden frameworks made. It would take a little bit of time, but everyone worked faster when it was at the prince's request.

Once he had the blank 'canvas' on its series of wooden 'frames' he sent it to his favorite painters, with an image he wished for them to reproduce.

All the while he waited, he also dove into the study of your homeland.

Midgard was so very large, and he had spent so little time actually being there, and learning his surroundings. The sizes of countries baffled him sometimes. The United States was one of those countries that seemed to contradict its own existence. While not the largest of countries, it was still so large that its central government could not govern its entirety. Instead, it was broken up into 'states'; great chunks of land, many being so large as to be countries all their own. Each of these states governed themselves, reporting back to the central government. It was an odd arrangement, that struck Loki as woefully inefficient and ripe for rebellion.

In fact, his studies taught him that several such rebellions had occurred in the past, and had the possibility of rising again in the future.

He tried to listen to some of the music common to your nation-sized state, but could not stand it for more than a few songs. Modern Midgardian music was mostly terrible, in his opinion, lacking in melodiousness and refinement. The lyrics tended to be simplistic at best, examples of beginner's poetry.

He found some grudging enjoyment in the unusual instrumental achievements of what the radio stations called “Eighties Hits”, whatever that meant, but he would not be admitting that anytime soon.

The pictures and recordings didn't seem like enough. The music wasn't enough.

He needed to be there.

Loki could not take you to Old Asgard exactly, but he could make illusions to immerse you in the world in which he grew up. But you couldn't do that, you couldn't bring your homeland to him. If he was to understand you better, he would have to go there himself. Surround himself in your land, eat the food, breathe in the air.

And so he began planning a little vacation.

Or was it an espionage mission? No one other than Heimdall could know he was there: He was still very much a persona non grata in the United States. He could not take you with him. He would have to go in disguise. He would have to go at night, while you slept, so that you would not suffer for his distance from you.

Maybe someday he would be allowed back; to take you back to see all your friends and neighbors. Until then, he would just have to bring some of it back to you.

One evening, he kissed your forehead gently, telling you that he had an errand to run, and might not be back until morning. You were tired; it was clear to him. You didn't even question what he would be doing.

As he left the city limits, he let his outline shimmer and fade away, replacing himself with features that would be less likely to draw suspicion. Soon there was nothing but a grizzled old man in worn jeans and a stretched out black tee shirt. Boring. Ordinary. Unremarkable.

All the things he was sure he was not.

Heimdall met him with a sarcastic stare.

“What have we here?” He said in a flat voice. “A lost, Midgardian peasant? I suppose I shall have to send you home.”

In a time past, Loki might have felt bashful, but that was before he had realized that the gatekeeper had a sense of humor drier than the center of a star. Now he only felt grateful about how willing Heimdall was to break the rules.

“I wish to learn some things.” Loki said. “It's for the good of my subjects.”

“Plural?” Heimdall questioned. Loki pursed his lips and looked away. Heimdall twisted the sword.

The light gathered Loki up, and flung him across the sea.

                                                                          *****

The fields were vast in the dying light, stretching so far on every side, that it was impossible to see their end. The only break in the tall rows was the equally endless road Loki walked. He could smell the green plants as the sun disappeared beneath the corn, and the dust, and the mud in the roadside ditches.

Heat distorted the distance, assaulting his senses, but not as much as the noise.

Everywhere, every cubic inch of the world was the sawing scream of cicadas. It filled his skull, filled his bones, inescapable and omnipresent. How did you sleep in this? How could anyone sleep here?

But as he walked, as the day faded and the night awoke, Loki began to hear the song. The insects cries had a rhythm that rose and fell in rounds, constantly changing as a frog in a ditch puddle sang along, as crickets among the corn roots added their harmonies. The interruptions as something, perhaps himself, disturbed the nearest singers, causing them to fall silent, and change the melody entirely.

The whole world around him was alive, and reveling.

A dome of light on the horizon indicated your town. He would be there soon, an hour's walk at most.

The closer he got, the less he could see the emerging stars, a problem even the smallest of Midgardian settlements seemed to have. There were more vehicles too, several of them stopping to ask if he needed help. These he waved away with a friendly declaration that he was just out for a nice evening walk.

Eventually, there came a break in the cornfields, a wide verge between farmland and civilization. A sea of grass and barely visible wildflowers, closed up against the darkening night. He leaped over the ditch and strode a few feet into it, focusing on the last vestiges of wildflower scent, of the insects that rose into the air, the evening choir all around him.

The flashlight shining in his face, the stern questioning of an officer. The warning to move along. He wasn't even bothering anybody, and still, he was somehow in trouble.

The officer also offered him a ride, but Loki didn't trust it. A ride to the local prison maybe. The fellow was a bit too canny; he didn't seem to believe a thing Loki said.

He finally passed a city limit sign, that boasted of its two thousand residents. Smaller, even than Asgard, yet you'd spent your whole life here. Hemmed in by cornfields, like great, green walls. Lulled by the song of nature. Sick, and starving, and scared, without him.

And for a year of it, nearly alone, surrounded by dead fields, like even greater walls, no word from the outside world. Isolated, endangered, without even a single member of your family to draw comfort from. All because of Thanos. Just like Thor had been, in the aftermath. Just like he had been, after he fell.

But never again. None of you had to be alone now.

For a town, the place was surprisingly empty. There were large spaces between buildings, overgrown lawns and poorly manicured houses. There were churches; though in this country, there seemed to be churches on every corner. There was the grocery store he had taken you from. The memory had grown soft and treasured in his mind. The way you had fallen so dramatically in front of him, like a swooning maiden faced with raw power. The way life had flowed back into your limbs when he touched you, the way strength seized your soul, and you had so adorably tried to break his nose.

All he had felt then was your warmth. The blow might have felled a human man, but he was so much more. And he had since proven that to you. Mostly.

You still weren't ready for further steps into this relationship. That was okay. You had a busy life now, lots to think about. Your days were full of so much more than just deciding what icing to put on the cupcakes.

Speaking of...

Loki wandered the isles of the grocery store, imagining that you had done the same. Day in, day out, up and down these cramped, harshly lit shelves, until it was memorized. He stood outside the bakery section-closed by this time of night-knowing that you had spent years in that very spot. How the work of your hands had been appreciated by everyone who had bought any of the wide variety of baked goods on display, but had never been attributed to you. Every worker in this place wore the same uniform, the same hat, the same color. They were forced into facelessness.

You had worn that same uniform when he first found you. You'd lost your hat in the mire outside New Asgard, and he'd had the ugly, ill-fitted uniform thrown out. Only the apron remained, decorated, bettered, made more worthy of you and what you were becoming.

Loki adored the style of clothing you wore now; a mix of traditional Midgardian forms and Asgardian details-as unique in its position as you were. And you had taken to it so naturally! It would be nice to see you in some purely Asgardian pieces though. Specifically, Asgardian lingerie...

Loki tore his wandering mind away from that alluring subject, lingering instead on the array of presumably delicious baked goods before him. There were confetti cupcakes with galaxy-colored icing, covered in glitter, labeled 'Sayd-cupkakes', and a little photoshopped picture of you with rainbows and sparkles fountaining from your hands. He was sorely tempted to filch it, but he had already stolen something from this place.

On a table next to the cupcakes, there were green iced croissants, slightly unfurled before baking, in order to make them look less like a swirl, and more like bulls horns. These were labeled 'Lossants', and Loki struggled with amusement at the awful puns, and awareness about how inappropriate this probably was, considering all he had done. This would never have gone over in New York. The store would have been shut down immediately.

But your old workplace honored you. And seemed to at least acknowledge the reality of himself. If this tiny town could do that, perhaps there was hope yet.

Loki headed down the street, where it seemed a majority of the local eateries were located, and chose the most rustic looking. This would be the place where the local poor would eat, when they could afford to.

The décor was odd to him-it seemed there was little thematic cohesion, with everything from old signs, to movie posters, to farm animals made of wood or tin affixed to the walls. The false leather of the booth seating was red and cracked, and the yellowish lighting threw a grungy pall over everything.

Even in the guise of a rough old man, Loki managed to charm the waitress, ordering a combo plate of breakfast foods, which he was pleased to find were served all day. These were delicious, but he could see how they would be unhealthy for a human, who burned calories at a slower rate than Asgardians did. But Loki knew that peasants of both species needed hearty fare, to do the work that they did.

Personally, Loki found these 'waffles' to be delightful in taste and texture. Did you like these? Had you sat in this seat, smiled at this waitress, eaten waffles off these plates? Did you like this sublime sweetness known as maple syrup?

Or did you eschew these things in favor of the protein? These heavy scrambled eggs, the crunchy bacon, the sausage that was uncomfortably greasy. Asgardian food had been refined over millennia to provide for the needs of mighty warriors: it would be much healthier for you than this.

But maybe he could have some greasy sausage brought for you sometimes. He knew how you loved strong flavors.

He could feed you little tidbits. You could lick his fingers.

Again, Loki had to drag his thoughts away from such subjects, and concentrate on satisfying his other hungers. He had to pay with Icelandic money, bespelled to look like American dollars, but he would likely not be back this way again, so it wouldn't matter when the spell wore off.

Besides, they could just exchange it, couldn't they? It was the correct amount.

He wandered out into the night, allowing himself to get lost in the streets of your town. It was mostly quiet, but the sounds of music and television sets could be heard inside the houses, and cars ran back and forth infrequently on the hot streets. There was smoke in the air, the sounds of gatherings in backyards, and even here, the cry of cicadas.  Loki located your 'High School', and what must have also been your 'Middle School', and 'Elementary School', though he still didn't understand the distinction. But there was only one of each in this little town, so you must have attended at least one. Perhaps you had been selected for the 'High school' due to your intellectual acuity? But then why were you still a peasant among humans?

You were exalted in Asgard now, paramour to a prince. He wanted to believe that it didn't matter, but it was your upbringing. It was what had shaped your personality, and informed your outlook on life. This town, with its run down buildings and overgrown lots, fenced in by walls of corn, it had created you. This was your true maker; it moulded you, and was still a part of you, like the Shining Realm would always be a part of him, no matter what was going by the name of Asgard now.

Loki was not so sure that he really liked this place. For being so flat and open, it still felt hemmed in and constricting. But he liked you, so he liked something of this place.

He walked all the way to the other side of town, and out towards the corn. There was a verge here as well; grass and wild plants between the town and fields, and he lay down there, watching the stars go by.

He must gave dozed off, because next he knew, he was waking to a different song. Birds made up the chorus this time, and he sat up to the rising scent of clover, their little pink and white flowers heated by the light of the morning sun. They mingled with the honeysuckle vine winding along the fence behind him, and-yes those were the flowers you had shown him in the Akureyri botanical garden.

Eager to be gone before anybody noticed, he gathered a bouquet of the cheerful, purple blooms. These he pressed into your hands when you greeted him on his return, as well as a quick kiss on the top of your sleepy head

If you wondered how he had gotten them, you were too drowsy to ask, and he bid you go back to sleep. You could both be late today.