#I handed her gift to her and said 'next time use a hair dryer'

[wuxian-vs-wangji]

Hey Fort? It's hot out here, right?

"Yes, it's Thailand, so-?"

Yeah... just a second, can you hold this with your face a moment?

*sticks a strip of Gaff tape right between his eyes.*

Just, like, for 15 seconds.

*waits while it gets hot*

Perfect.

*rips the gaff tape- and his unibrow- off*

[house-of-slayterr]

Blink Twice if You Need Help:

@myers-meadow-selfship

Otis’s POV:

I woke up today already in a shit mood. There was so much to get done and not nearly enough time to do it all. And of course, Baby was no help. She had Mama wrapped around her little finger and never had to lift said fingers to help. I grumbled under my breath as I greeted them in the kitchen.

“Somebodies grumpy” she commented.

I glared at her, taking the cap off the milk and taking a sip. She scrunched her nose.

“You know other people use that.” Mama commented.

“I bought the damn milk Mama, I’m gonna drink it!” I snapped.

She raised a brow at me, rolling up the frilly sleeve of her frufru dress robe. It looked so out of place in our run down piece of shit house. But that’s just how she was, extravagant beyond our means. And who was I to crush mothers happiness. I sighed.

“You look nice today Mama.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere boy, use a glass next time.”

“Yes Ma.”

“Good. Spaulding needs some help down at the store today, Baby and I will handle the house.”

I gave her a curt nod, pulling a glass from the cabinet and pouring the milk. I grabbed a banana from the counter and made my way out of the kitchen. I new better than to think they’d actually get anything done here. I could clean up later. I used my keys to unlock the back door of the store and make my way inside.

“Well look what the cat dragged in.” Spaulding commented. “You look worse than roadkill Otis.”

I growled.

“Says the clown.” I spat back.

He just grinned that stupid grin he always had.

“The house is a nightmare.” I explained.

“Baby getting into her arts and crafts projects again?” He asked.

“If by arts and crafts you mean leaving half ass projects on every surface in the house, then yes.”

He cackled.

“I swear that girl needs something to channel her energy, she’s like an over active chihuahua.”

I chuckled.

“Damn ankle biters. You think we’ll get any guest today?”

He shrugged. Absentmindedly adjusting things in our little gas station, gift shop combo. It was a studious business venture really, but the little trinkets made Mama happy, so we sold em anyway.

“I hope so, this town is dryer then your moms vagina.”

I rolled my eyes. He talked a lot of shit for a man that slept in her bed every night.

“Yet you stay.” I commented.

“That I do Boy, that I do…”

The first few hours of the day were entirely uneventful. Ain’t shit ever happen in this desolate town. But as luck would happen, some van finally pulled into the gas station.

“Look alive boy, we got us some tourist.” He smirked.

I watched as he walked outside, greeting the driver. In our state it’s illegal for customers to pump their own gas. Dumb as shit law of you ask me. But I guess it makes sense, these shit for brains hippies couldn’t work their way through a corn maze with a map. Probably didn’t even know how to use the damn pump. I laughed to myself.

The guy looked pretty average, some sort of jock type. Wearing tight shirts to show off his muscles, and I couldn’t decide if it was a scare tactic, or a way to get the ladies. Either way I wasn’t impressed. Next hopped out a cute little thing, her blond hair in a messy ponytail and her shorts entirely too short. I watched as she ran her hands along his bicep as he spoke with Spaulding. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, and honestly I didn’t much care. It wouldn’t matter by the end of the day, they wouldn’t be getting back in that van anyways.

I pretended to busy myself with random things, until I heard the bell from the front door chime. Seems Spaulding sent them in for some snacks. There was a shorter boy who looked like a damned greaser from one of those 50’s movies Baby liked to watch. He had enough gel in his hair to drown a baby in. He had his arm wrapped around a brunette, who unlike her other friend, had barely any skin showing. Damn city kids.

And lastly there was some kid with them. Their appearance struck me as odd right away. There hair was wild and unruly, almost as if it had never been brushed. I could see the knots from here. Their clothes were I’ll fitted too, shirt devouring their entire form, and shoes so warn you could see their socks through the little holes. I frowned, but quickly rid myself of the emotion.

I kept quiet behind the desk as they looked around, not really wanting to offer my “help”. Baby was much better at pretending to be friendly. I looked up when something was slammed on the counter in front of me. A six pack of beer and some chips. I looked down at it before meeting his eyes.

“Anything else?” I gritted in disgust.

“Gotta any good smokes?” He asked.

“Yeah… we stock Marlboro or Maverick.”

“I’ll take a pack of the Marlboros.”

I reached under the counter and slapped them down with the same force he had.

“That’ll be $18.50.” I dead panned.

His focus was drawn away from me as his girlfriend placed an ice tea on the counter.

“And the lady’s drink.” He said.

“$20 even.”

He reached into his wallet, and I looked past him through the window to see how things were going with Spaulding.

“We’re you folks headed?” I attempted to make casual conversation.

It was the girl who answered.

“It’s spring break, we’re headed further south to the beaches.” She explained.

I hummed, not really interested.

“It’s getting quite late, you don’t want to be caught on the roads out here this late. Some sketchy people hanging around.” I freihned a warning.

“Suppose we could rest for the night, what do you think babe? I think Mikey’s getting tired of driving anyway, we’ve been cramped in that stupid van all day.”

The man shrugged.

“Any motels near by?” She asked.

“Just down the road. Cheap rate too.”

“Perfect.” She smiled at me. “Thanks for your help.”

At least she was polite. Couldn’t say the same about her boyfriend. I lazily hummed again. He was about to hand me the $20 but was untrusted once more, this time by the kid. They were gripping tightly to a pack of gummy worms.

“That’ll make it $21.50” I sighed, annoyed that I had to talk to them for longer than I wanted to.

He proceeded to hand me just the $20 and I looked confused. Maybe he didn’t hear me.

“I’m not buying you some damn gummy worms, you got your own money.” He snapped at the kid.

They flinched slightly, shuffling awkwardly on their feet but nodded. I finished out the transaction. He forcefully grabbed the beer off the counter and shoved passed them. His girlfriend more delicately her tea and followed after him. I was surprised she didn’t even seem off-put by his outburst, her bubbly personality not faltering for a second.

“City folk.” I grumbled under my breath.

The kid just kinda stood there for second. Their grip tightened on the plastic and I could hear it crinkle in protest. Their small shoulders were shaking slightly. The wordlessly reached into their pocket and pulled out a few coins. They looked between the bag and their money and sighed, going to put them back. They seemed to notice my staring as they mumbled out a soft,

“Don’t have enough.”

I don’t know why I took pity on them, they looked like a damned drowned rat who just got kicked by their owner. I held out my hand and they looked confused.

“Take the candy.” I said.

They looked shocked, honestly I was a little shocked myself.

“But I don’t have the money to pay you-“

I didn’t budge and they awkwardly shuffled over and dropped the money in my hand.

“It’s only 85 cents, but I guess we’re staying, I think there’s a few coins in the dash if you let me go get them.” They offered.

It was honestly sad.

“Would ya look at that, says her the gummy worms only cost 85 cents now. Guess it’s your lucky day kid.”

That was a fucking lie and I knew it. Probably kill them first so they won’t have to witness the carnage. Poor thing looked miserable.

“Why are you being nice to me?” They asked.

“Guess I’m in a charitable mood today.”

I don’t know why they wouldn’t just take the damn things and go. I watched as they fiddle with their necklace before taking it off and putting it on the counter. I starred down at it.

“It’s not worth much, you could probably get like $5 for it. I don’t want to short you, that’s not right. Thank you for your kindness mister.” They said.

Before I could protest they were already running back outside as the boy from earlier yelled out there name from the door.

“Stop bothering the man and get your ass in the van!” He demanded.

I watched as they drove off, not even giving the kid enough time to sit and close the door first. Spaulding came back in.

“Sent em to the motel.” I explained.

He laughed.

“Stole their tired cap when they weren’t looking, they ain’t getting far anyways.” He said smuggly.

I just shrugged it response.

“What’s got your panties in a twist boy, you’re usually happy about this shit.”

“Nothing, I’m fine.” I lied.

I should be fine, so then, why wasn’t I? I’d killed kids before, younger than them even. So what the fuck was my problem.

“You got your thinking Face on Otis, you know you’re a shit liar right?”

I groaned.

“You should have seen the way they were treating that kid, Spaulding. Something don’t feel right about that.”

“What, gonna give em a lecture while you’re ripping out their spleens?” He joked.

“Oh I’m gonna do a lot more than that, dumb fuck was a prick, treating me like gutter trash. Baby’s gonna have her fun with them, specially that sports boy.”

“Your sister does have a type.” He mused.

After a few minutes of working in silence, he spoke up again.

“Look if it’s really bothering you all that much, why don’t you go talk to your mama?” He sighed.

I shook my head. “We should just put the poor thing out of its misery. They damn near cried cause I gave them some gummy worms. I don’t think they’re feeding that thing.”

Of course he noticed my attempt to dehumanise them. Not like I needed to. Humans were disgusting by nature. Watching them beg for their worthless lives was always funny. People did desperate shit when they felt out of control.

“Whatever you say.”

“Imma go warn Mama about our new guests.” I grumbled.

Baby was the first to greet me back at the house. She was practically jumping up and down.

“Is it true? We got new friends to play with?” She asked.

I cracked a smile.

“Yeah, nasty little shits too. You wanna show em some southern hospitality?”

Mama came from around the corner, sipping some wine still in her robe. As expected, nothing got done while I was at the gas station.

“Been pretty quiet around here. Baby why don’t you head on down to the motel and offer them a home cook meal? Nothing open at this hour.”

She adjusted her top, showing off more cleavage and I cringed. I mean hey, it worked to lure in those dumb fucks, but she was still my sister. Can’t blame me for hating it. The men who ogled her were disgusting low lives. I rolled my eyes at her.

“You seem down, what’s wrong child?” Mama asked.

“I’m not a fan of our new guests.”

“You never are.” She laughed, “want to help your mama in the kitchen?” She offered.

And of course I could never say no to her. We slipped a special ingredient in the stew. They’d be out like a light before they new it, idiots wouldn’t even know what hit them. I wasn’t shocked when Baby came back half an hour later with the tourists trailing her. They never could resist her charms, if there’s one thing about Baby, she’s persistent. She could actually get shit done when she put her mind to it. Even if she did get a little distracted sometimes.

“Your home is… lovely.” The nicer girl from earlier complimented.

“Thank you sugar, where you folks from?” Mama attempted conversion.

“Way up in Michigan.” The jock spoke.

His voice wasn’t nearly as grating as his I’ll mannered friends.

“Couch told me they had good beaches down south, figured we’d have one final hurrah before collage.” He explained.

“Bet you’re pretty good at surfing” Baby attempted to flirt, and I had to hold back a chuckle when the blonde girl glared at her.

“Actually I’m awful at it, foot ball players aren’t really known for our good balance. One to many concussions I guess.”

Baby giggled at his joke.

“Sorry there ain’t much to do in this town, round her thinks close down at about five. But don’t worry, Mama makes the best food this side of Texas.”

“Great, I’m starving.” The greaser said.

The kid from earlier stayed behind them, not really joining in on the conversation. Spaulding was probably breaking into their motel room as we spoke, stealing their fancy shit so we could pawn it off. Not like a corpse would be needing it anyway. We all sat down for dinner, but the kid stayed near the door.

“We’ll come on in and sit sugar cube, we don’t bite.” Mama said.

It was odd how they waited for permission, the context was already there. They sat down next to Baby who smiled wildly at them. Obviously we didn’t put the sedative in our bowls, but I was hesitant when Mama placed the stew in front of them.

“This is amazing! You made this yourself?” The bubbly girl asked.

“My Son helped, he’s good to his Mama.” Mom praised.

The thing about Mama is she loved to brag about us. And I couldn’t lie it made me feel proud. Not that I wanted to look good to these worthless shits anyways, but the recognition of my hard work was still nice.

“My Nan used to make stuff like this all the time, she’s from down in New Orleans. She used to tell me food was the way to a man’s heart. Guess she was right.” She smiled at her boyfriend, looking at him expectedly.

“Your cookings decent.” He said flatly.

What kind of dick couldn’t even be nice to his own damn girl? Baby could have the jock, but he was all mine. She frowned for a moment, but shook it off.

“Maybe I could bother you for a recipe.” She hummed.

“Sure thing sugar.”

I was more than glad when the medicine started taking effect and the conversions slowed down. The jock was the first to fall, his face slamming into the stew. The blondes eyes widened as she starred at her boyfriend in horror. Everyone’s eyes were on him.

“What the fuck did you do?” The greaser spat.

Mama didn’t take to kindly to his tone, and frankly, neither did I. He and his girlfriend attempted to get up from the table, but I placed my hand firmly on his shoulder and shoved him back down.

“You sit your ass down.” I growled.

His girlfriend was the next to pass out, almost falling out of her chair. The blonde was in total panic mode, just saying “what the fuck?!” On repeat. Baby clamped a napkin over her mouth, cutting off her oxygen until she passed out.

“Get your hands off me!” He glared. “What the fuck is wrong with you people?”

You people… I hated when people called us that.

“Your mama ain’t teach you now respect boy.” I commented.

I looked across the table to see the kid still struggling to stay awake. They made eye contact with me, and for a moment I felt my heart stop. They didn’t look scared, or nervous, or even upset like I expected. They had a look of acceptance in their eyes, like they were ready to die. It made me sick.

“This is your fault you little shit!” He growled at them.

Their eyes widened slightly. How could he possibly blame this on them? They had nothing to do with this.

“You probably pissed off this freak back at the gas station. You can’t do anything right!”

They were shaking now. And I had enough. I hit him over the back of his head with my beer, knocking him out cold. I guess Baby and I were on the same Page, cause she quickly turned her attention to them. She placed a gentle hand on their shoulder.

“It’s ok pretty thing, you can stop fightin’ your medicine.” She cooed.

She brushed a lock of mangled hair out of their eyes. They looked up at her.

“But I don’t want to go to bed.”

Their words were slow as the sedative took hold of their brain.

“I’m not tired.” They lied.

“Oh, aren’t you just the most precious thing.” Mama said.

They leaned into Baby’s touch, their head collapsing into her hands as their eyes finally closed. I let out a loud sigh.

“So that’s what’s been botherin’ ya.” Mama said.

“What?” I asked confused.

“I can see it in your eyes Otis. You’re not happy about killing this one.”

I hated that I couldn’t hide from her. But I’d never lie to my Mama, that shit just ain’t right.

“This piece of shit has been treating them like that all day.” I growled, shoving the man off the chair and watching as his body crumpled in a heap on the floor. “Wouldn’t even buy them some damn Candy.”

Mama frowned.

“Is that so?”

I nodded. Mama stood up from her chair, making her way to Baby’s side of the table.

“Give em here.” She said.

Mama knelt down beside their chair, leaning them back on it so they wouldn’t loose balance and fall. I knew what she was doing, inspecting them.

“They’re hairs more matted then a rats nest.” She sighed. “Suppose we could fatten them up a bit too. Poor things frailer than a porcelain doll.”

“They ain’t scared of us.” I stated.

“Seems they aren’t, guess we’re no scarier than that low life.”

“Can we keep em Mama? Can we?!?” Baby asked excitedly.

“It’s another mouth to feed. We’ll have to ask your father.”

“I don’t think he’ll have a problem with it.” I chimed in.

“Otis, be a dear and take them up to Baby’s room. They’re gonna need the rest. I don’t care what you do with the others, just get that ‘thing’” she glared at the man on the floor “out of my Damn house.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

Baby looked giddy, well more than usual I guess. Suppose it would be nice to have someone to keep her company so she didn’t bother me so Damn much. Always with her constant questions. I made my way around the table and gave Mama a kiss on the cheek. I turned to Baby.

“You can have the rest, but he’s mine.” I said.

She smiled up at me.

“Oh I can’t wait to see what you do with him Otis! Gonna make him beg for his Mama?” She asked.

“Think I’ve heard enough from him, not like he’ll be needing his tongue when I’m done with him.”

She grinned, that familiar glint of insanity in her eyes.

“Just don’t kill him until I’m done ok, I wanna watch him suffer.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Ahh, nothing like a little torture to bring the family together.” Mama smiled happily. “Just clean up after yourselves ok Kids? And stay off the new rug, Spaulding won’t be happy if we have to replace it again.”

That warning was mostly aimed at Baby. She was Certainly messy with her toys. I turned back to the kid, they didn’t even have a name, and yet here I was feeling protective over them already. Damn thing should be grateful, we don’t take pity on many folk around here. I scooped them up into my arms and was surprised at how light they were. Mama’s assessment was right, they were tiny. Weighed nearly half as much as someone their age should.

I carried them upstairs to Baby’s room and set them down on the bed. I draped a blanket over them before sitting at the edge of the bed.

“Don’t worry kid, they ain’t gonna hurt you no more. No one’s gonna treat you like that again.”

I knew they couldn’t hear me, but it was the sentiment that counts. I heaved myself off the bed and locked the door as I left. Couldn’t risk them waking up and trying to run before I was done with me ‘chores’ for the day. Maybe I’d finally have someone who will help out around the house.

An: Kid is more so used as a term of endearment here. Blinky is about 17 when they first met everyone, Doe eyes comes along about a year later.

[lilithbasically]

Surprise

*Minors DNI*

DILF Kiri's birthday with his pretty little nanny

I'm late but this was for Kiri's birthday bc he's daddy as fuck😩

Warnings: bit of dacryphilia, pet names, degradation and praise, light choking, cum eating, mention of masturbation (m)

-DILF Kirishima who had spent the last few weeks being pestered and taunted by the rest of the BakuSquad

-"Shitty hair, if you don't make your move, I will."

-"Kirishima, how have you not fucked her senseless yet?"

-Kirishima hadn't yet made good on his promise to ruin you. He was just so goddamn busy.

-But you can be sure the first thing his mind drifted to at night was your little hands trying to wrap around his thick cock. Your lips struggling to fit him into your mouth.

-DILF Kiri who had a hard day at work and just wanted to come home to relax

-His pretty little nanny had already taken care of everything before he got there because you were just perfect like that

-"Hi, Mr. Kirishima. Your dinner is on the table, babies are at their mom's for their scheduled visit, and laundry is in the dryer. I'll be sure to fold it first thing tomorrow when I get here," you say with a sweet smile.

__________

Kirishima took you in for the umpteenth time this week, his eyes raking over you, "Whatcha got planned for tonight, Y/N?"

"Oh, nothing, Sir. I just didn't want to get in the way of any plans you may have." That signature sickeningly saccharine smile lighting up your features. God, he'd love to see his dick in your mouth.

"Plans? What makes you think I have any plans, sweetheart? And I thought I told you to call me Eijirou?"

"Right, I'm sorry, Si-Eijirou. I just figured you had plans since today is your birthday," you shrug.

"Mmhhmmm...I'm honored that you remembered," Kiri's heart clenched in his chest.

"How could I not, Eijirou? Red Riot has always been my favorite hero."

Hearing his hero name fall off your tongue made his cock twitch in his pants and he decided tonight would be the night he'd keep his promise.

"Would you like to join me for my birthday celebration then, Y/N?" Kiri asked, his eyes not once leaving your figure.

"I'd love to, Eijirou. But, you should probably open your gift first. It's waiting for you in your bedroom." Avoiding his eyes, you watch him walk to his bedroom and disappear around the corner.

Kirishima searches his room for any hint of a gift but finds nothing.

"Hey, Y/-," he starts then stutters, seeing you in a bright red, strappy set, standing in his doorway. "Oh holy fuck, Y/N," Kiri breathes.

"You feel like keeping your word then, Red Riot?"

__________

"Fuck...say it again, baby...let me hear it, c'mon," Kirishima panted. Thrusting his dick into you, you were losing yourself in the delicious burn the stretch his massive member provided. He slipped a hand down to toy with your clit as you moaned.

"Fuck, Red Riot, break me...please, daddy, oh god"

Flipping you over, positioning you to all fours, he slammed his dick into you so hard you jolted forward with a yelp. Grabbing the headboard with one hand, he wrapped his other around your throat using his grip as leverage to pull you to meet his thrusts and sink himself into you harder, his tip kissing your cervix with every thrust.

"Goddamn, Little One you feel better than I imagined you would...Been wantin to fuck your perfect little cunt since I first saw you...fucked my fist to the thought of you creaming on my cock..."

His admission made you fly over the edge, covering him in your release, your walls pulsing around him.

"Fuck...good girl, just like that. Ahhhh fuck, babygirl," he groaned, releasing your throat to move his hand down to rub tight circles over your clit, "Gimme another, Y/N...gimme one more then I'll fill you up"

"hnnnn...Kiri, I can't s'too much, daddy," you sobbed, tears falling down your cheeks.

"Aww, poor baby...," he said, false sympathy staining his voice. He leaned forward to lick one of the tear tracks before biting down on your neck. Moving his lips next to your ear, "You wanna be a good little slut for daddy on his birthday right? Wanna give me the best present, yeah? Then fucking cum, goddamnit...take this cock and fucking cum. You said you wanted to be broken so fucking break for me, whore"

"Oh, god...fuck...daddy" you wailed as your body shook with your release, clear liquid gushing from your cunt, soaking the sheets, his cock, and his legs.

"Good girl, good fuckin girl...fuck that was so hot...m'gonna cum, baby. Shit..."

Feeling him twitch inside you as he sped up his thrusts, you knew just the thing to tip him over, "Please fill me with your cum Red Riot, fuck me full, daddy"

"FUCK" Kirishima yelled, flooding your pussy. He watched as it gushed out around his cock, dripping down your thighs. Hissing as he pulled out, Kirishima scooped up the excess with two fingers, lightly pulling you to sit in his lap. "You know how much I hate being wasteful, pretty girl," he said, pushing his fingers between your lips, letting you suck his cum from them before pulling them away with a soft 'pop'.

Wrapping his arms around you, he pulled you down against his chest to lay down. You giggled a little, planting a soft kiss against his pec, and whispered a sweet, "Happy Birthday, Eiji."

Laying a kiss to the top of your head, he smiled, "Best fuckin present by far, babygirl."

_______________

@fatbitchgeek-blog @sunflowers-rae @whatever-the-fuck-i-dont-care @totally-not-bakus-hoe @zerisfelin @auphelia @katsukisdynamite

[shemarmooresfedora]

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

A/N: i finally made a taglist! just send an ask to be added or removed at any time!

Masterlist

Chapter 26

“Ugh,” you said, looking through the kitchen cabinets.

“What do you need, love?” Spencer called out from where he was reading on the couch with Jo.

“We’re out of rice wrappers and I wanted spring rolls for dinner,” you pouted.

“I’ll go to the store and get some for you,” he closed his book and stood up, “Be back in 20,” he kissed you.

“Thank you, baby,” you smiled and watched as he walked out of the door and pulled out of the driveway.

“Okay, Jo! We don’t have much time! Go! Go! Go!” you exclaimed.

You knew you were out of rice wrappers and Spencer would generously go offer to go get some more. But what other choice did you have, Father’s Day was coming up and you and Jo needed him out of the house for a little which was especially hard now that he was a stay-at-home dad.

You placed the shirt on the table that read ‘I’m a Doctor Dad, Just Like a Normal Dad Except Much Cooler.” You knew it was cheesy but Spencer would proudly wear it regardless especially with the customizations you were about to make.

You squirted purple paint onto a scrap piece of cardboard and flipped the shirt around so the plain back was face up.

“Okay, Jo, remember like I told you in the car, cover your hands in the paint and then press them down on the shirt so Daddy’s shirt will have your little handprints on the back,” you instructed.

After Jo made her mark on the shirt, you carried her to the sink so she could wash her hands off without making a mess.

Then, you used a white fabric marker to write ‘Love, Jo,’ under her handprints.

Jo was on lookout duty by the door as you were trying to dry the shirt quickly with your hair dryer.

“Mommy, Daddy’s back!” she alerted you.

“Shoot, shoot, shoot!” you were running up the stairs with the half-dried shirt in your hands.

Ironically, you decided to hide it in Spencer’s old room because he never even went in there anymore.

“Hey, I’m back,” you heard him call out, “Why is the hair dryer on and sitting on the kitchen table?” he asked.

“Jo wanted to play salon,” you came running down the stairs, “Here’s the barrettes you wanted, sweetie. Daddy can be your next client while I make dinner.”

You grabbed the bag from Spencer and grinned.

Jo immediately went along with your plan, pulling out one of the chairs from the table, “Sit down, Daddy. I’ll be right with you in a second, we are very busy today. We are going to need some conditioner for those curls, they look dry.”

You let out a laugh.

“Yes, ma’am,” Spencer smiled, taking his seat.

-

Much like he did for you on Mother’s Day, you and Jo made Spencer breakfast in bed on the morning of Father’s Day.

Jo was in charge of pouring the orange juice and Spencer’s coffee into cups while you baked cinnamon coffee cake.

Jo hopped off the counter when her job was done.

“Don’t forget to sign Daddy’s card please,” you reminded her.

After she had, you scribbled something at the bottom and tucked it into its envelope, placing it on the tray.

Even though you woke up earlier than usual to make breakfast, Spencer felt you trying to slip out of his arms in the early morning and woke up but you made him stay up there as to not ruin the surprise.

You and Jo marched up the stairs, holding gift bags and the breakfast tray.

“Happy’s Father’s Day!” you both cheered as you opened the bedroom door.

“Come here, Princess,” Spencer opened his arms as Jo scampered up onto the bed to give her dad a hug.

“And you too,” Spencer smiled at you after he finished hugging Jo.

You hummed in acknowledgment and gave him a quick kiss before taking a seat on the bed.

“Presents or breakfast first, Daddy?” Jo asked.

“Let’s do presents,” he said, seeing how excited Jo was to give him his gift.

Jo crawled into Spencer’s lap with the gift bag in hand.

Spencer pulled some pink tissue paper out, revealing the shirt you and Jo made last night.

Spencer chuckled, looking at the front.

“Look at the back,” you suggested.

Spencer turned the shirt around and his smile widened.

“I love it,” he kissed Jo’s head, “I’m going to wear it right now.”

Spencer pulled the shirt over his head.

“So handsome!” you grinned.

Next, Spencer opened a big canvas photo print of the three of you on you and Spencer’s wedding day.

“We have all that space on the living room wall downstairs so I figured we would fill it,” you smiled.

“It’s perfect,” he agreed, giving you another kiss, reaching for the last gift.

“Wait!” you snatched it away quickly, “Card first, then this.”

Spencer sent you a wary look but followed your instructions, reaching for the card instead.

Spencer ripped open the envelope and your heart was beating so fast.

Spencer rolled his eyes playfully when there was a bear and a cub on the front of the card.

Spencer opened the card and began reading it out loud.

“Happy Father’s Day to Papa Bear. We love you beary much. Love, Y/N, Jo, and…”

Spencer’s eyes snapped up to meet yours, “Y/N, are you serious?”

You nodded ecstatically, not being able to get the words out.

Spencer dove across the bed to have you in his arms as quickly as possible. You hugged him back just as tightly.

“and little one?” Jo asked, finishing reading the card, “Who’s little one?”

Spencer looked at you with happy tears brimming in his eyes to match yours. You nodded, letting him know that he could tell Jo.

“Jo,” Spencer let you go and scooped Jo up in his arms, “Mommy is pregnant so you are going to have a little brother or sister,” he smiled.

Jo beamed, “Really?”

“Yes,” you nodded as Spencer pulled your shirt up slightly and leaned down to press soft kisses all over your tummy.

“The baby’s in there?” Jo asked.

“Yes, you were in there once too,” you smiled.

Jo leaned over and joined Spencer in planting a soft kiss on your belly.

“Okay, now you can open this gift,” you pushed the final bag towards him.

Spencer pulled out a photo album titled ‘Family’.

“It’s not all the way filled yet but I added a few photos to start us off. Obviously, we have a lot more memories to make,” you smiled, placing a hand on your belly.

A/N: DAD SPENCE DAD SPENCE DAD SPENCE AGAIN!!!

taglist (send an ask to be added or removed): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @g0lden-cth @spencerreid9

[revengeoftheantichrist]

Red Flags

Warnings: Serial killers, breaking and entering, torture, manipulation and broken bones AN: Huge thank you to @9layerdevilfoodcake and the lovely Carissa for bouncing some ideas and beta reading this while I was struggling!

AO3

Michael had enough. He was tired and hungry, getting nothing more than delirious in this forest. He stood on shaky legs, not caring about the blood of the goat he just killed. He didn’t know where he was going, just letting his feet carry him to wherever they pleased. He no longer cared about the destination. His surroundings faded into nothingness, until a familiar white-picket fence came into view. He finally focused on his surroundings, immediately starting to sob when he recognised where he was. His childhood home, his grandmother’s house. His body must have craved the familiarity and the warm embrace that only she could provide. But like every other mother figure in his life, she was dead, and he blamed himself. With bleary eyes he pushed open the squeaky gate. The smell of roses made the memories rapidly flash through his mind. With a deep breath, he opened the door.

The house had been untouched for years. Dust and cobwebs everywhere. He thought of his grandmother watching the house fall into this state of decay. Watching.

He felt the eyes of the house next door on him. He refused to look out the window. He didn’t want to see the looks of disgust and pity. He wiped his eyes and stood a little straighter. This was his house now. He could do whatever he wanted here. No one to answer to, no more deadlines and most of all, no more older blonde woman dictating his life. ////

He stared at himself in the mirror. The stubble and lack of sleep seemed to age him. His hair was no longer perfectly styled, it was wild and uneven. The more he looked at himself the more his face began to morph into the women in his life. He hated it. He didn’t want to look like the woman that threw him out at his lowest. Or the woman who, even in her death, could not accept him as hers. He carried the ghosts of next door with him, and he’d do anything to alleviate himself of that burden. He could only change his appearance for so long. Hair dye would eventually fade; contacts would need to be removed and he wasn’t willing to put himself under the knife.

The smell of blood on his clothes pulled him out of his thoughts. The mirror reflected the decrepit house he was in, turning his nose in disgust. With the last of his strength, he mustered a tiny bit of magic, using a spell to clean the house. He walked through the house as it returned to it’s former glory, remembering his own attempts at interior design when he was younger, looking up the beams and archways where he would nail his ‘gifts’ to his grandmother. Times were simpler then. He shook his head of the nostalgia, hoping the plumbing was still working; he needed a nice hot shower.

//// None of the clothes in the closet fit him anymore, he didn’t realise how much he had grown. For now, a towel was the best he could do until his other clothes were out the dryer. He spent his time scouring the house for legal documents, anything that entitled him to some money and the deeds of the house. He needed to get this all under his name, just in case his grandmother used that stupid medium to undermine him. He tugged open the last drawer. Bingo. Everything he needed conveniently placed in one place. Money, a will and the deeds of the house. He would need to go to whatever legal office to get it sorted. The dryer still had time to go. With a big sigh, he sat on the couch. The one that faced the ‘other’ house. He gave a smile to those still watching him. He must have looked demented by the reactions he got from them. The exhaustion and hunger were catching up to him, succumbing to sleep on the couch.

////

It was morning when he woke up. He let his towel fall with a big stretch. Thus was his house; he could do anything. Even walking around naked. He kept the blinds and curtains that faced that house open. Let them watch. He pulled his warm clothes on. The detergent brought back memories, he’d buy a new scent when the time came. He grabbed some cash and whatever documents he needed for the day, venturing out into the big bad world.

////

Humanity deserved to perish simply for the time it took at the bank. The manger was an old lady, greying blonde hair and a pair of ill-fitting glasses. Michael thought she was extremely rude and didn’t hide his distaste when he spoke to her. She asked far too many questions for such a simple procedure. “Young man, aren’t you far too young to be accessing these funds?” she asked, looking over her glasses. “I can’t control when my entire family dies now can I,” he spat back, sick of her already. She continued to look him up and down as she typed away. Printing something off, she slipped a booklet of paperwork to him. “Everything has been approved, your card should arrive in the next few days. Can I do anything else for you?” “I’d like to take out some cash.” “How much?” “$500.” She paused, “what are you planning on doing with that?” Michael was getting beyond irritated, his jaw clenched, and he rubbed his temples. “There’s no need to be so rude young man,” she huffed. Michael gave her a sarcastic smile before snatching the money and walking out of the bank. The world would be better off without her. He’d deal with her soon. ////

Michael returned home with numerous bags of clothing and food. He would learn how to cook for himself, takeout was not sustainable. The pantry was stocked with basic essentials, but most of it was stocked with candy and other snacks. No one could stop him from indulging in his gluttony now.

His wardrobe was full of blacks and reds, the perfect colours for him. He was most looking forward to the black jumpsuit. It stood out to him in the store, a style he had never tried before. His fingers drifted over the seams when he tried it on, turning and admiring the various angles in the mirror. He looked up to the clock through the mirror, it was almost 5pm, if he didn’t leave now, he would miss her leaving. ////

Michael waited for the old bank manager to leave. Biding his time in the shadows. He watched her as she said her goodbyes in her shrill voice, then as she walked to her car. Michael stalked behind her, waiting for her to get in. As she got comfortable, she dropped something by her foot pedals. When she reached down to grab it, Michael took the opportunity to get in the car and lock the doors. He smiled at her when she screamed. The parking lot was empty, no one would hear her. “Shhh,” Michael put a finger to his lips, the other hand held up a gun. It was one of Constance’s that she had hidden in the house. The woman suddenly stopped, her shaking hands on the wheel. “You’re going to drive, and I’m going to give you directions,” he said, his tone left no space to argue. She nodded, tears in her eyes, hoping he would let her go eventually.

////

They pulled up outside the murder house. Michael got out first, taking the keys from the ignition. The woman stayed in the car, still shaking. She wasn’t given much time to think, Michael dragged her out of the car and up the steps, his hand over her mouth. Her legs flailed around, heels falling off and feet dragging on the ground. Sill, Michael paid her no mind, not even as she thumped down the stairs when he threw her into the basement.

He felt eyes on him again as he went into the kitchen, looking for something sharp. When he got to the basement door, it was blocked by none other than Dr. Harmon himself. “You don’t have to do this kind, you know you’re better than this,” he tried to convince Michael. “You didn’t have to cheat on your wife, now here we all are, miserable in the same fucking house,” Michael spat back. “He didn’t give Harmon a chance to respond, teleporting into the basement where the woman cowered in the corner.

“Please, I’m sorry if I did something, there’s other ways to solve this,” she cried. “I need to get home to my grandkids,” she tried to appeal to his softer side. He continued to stalk towards her, ignoring her and inspecting the sharp knife. “You’re far too old to still be this rude. I think that it’s a habit that can’t be solved anymore,” Michael replied, sounding disappointed. The woman couldn’t back away any further, stuck to the wall. Michael got down to her level, wiping away her tears. “You have grandkids?” She rapidly nodded, hoping he changed his mind. “I had a grandma too. Looked just like you,” he took a blonde hair and sniffed it, it didn’t smell like her. “At least she had basic manners. And, she wouldn’t be caught dead in this hideous number,” he pointed out. He had to give Constance credit where it was due. “Do you want to know what happened to my grandma?” he whispered in her ear. She was too shaky to respond. “I killed her too,” he whispered again, this time his voice cracked a little; remembering the day he found her dead in this very house. Even if she was a ghost, she could have at least spared him a hug. His eyes began to well up. The woman took this as an opportunity to reach out, placing her hand on her face. He snapped back to her, taking her hand in his. “But no one can ever replace her,” his voice still shaking. He felt like a little boy again. He could feel the pity from the woman. She wasn’t scared of him anymore and he didn’t like that. He was no longer a child. He had a greater purpose. Without hesitation, Michael sliced her throat, letting himself be covered in her blood. He looked at his reflection in the knife. Maybe this was the look for him, covered in blood. He licked his fingers, tasting the liquid. “I’ll save the heart for later,” he thought to himself, before ripping it out and making use of one of the fridges. This was one way to pass the time and maybe, it would finally get his father’s attention. //// A car was found on a random highway. In it was the mangled corpse of the owner, and a simple letter signed by ‘the Alpha’. This marked the beginning of a new wave of violence in southern California. A serial killer was on the prowl. The victim profile was quite strange. Typically, killers would choose young women. However, this killer liked older blonde women, usually grandmothers or mothers. It scared you regardless, worried that one day the preference might change. You worried for your co-workers too, many of them fitting the description. The thought that you might have even interacted with the culprit made your skin crawl. ////

Things would inevitably go wrong if one were fuelled by bloodlust alone. Michael had broken into the wrong house. The woman that pissed him off at the supermarket lived a few doors down. Regardless, he was curious as to who lived here. The home was so different to what he was used to. The interior design choices were not the standard ‘live, laugh, love’ and farmhouse kitchen with seashell bathrooms. This house was nice, it had a younger feel to it, the heels by the door further proof of his theory. He quietly made his way up the stairs, looking into every room and taking it all in. He finally found the occupied room. The dark-haired woman was fast asleep in her bed. Comfortably sank into her pillows. He adjusted the blinds a little so he could see better. The way the moonlight reflected off her face took his breath away. His fingers twitched, he wanted to take her home this instant. He could take care of her, he knew he could. He liked a challenge however, he wanted her to come to him. He didn’t know how long he stood and stared at her, only leaving once she stared to stir. He’d be back. ////

Michael’s heart was jumping out of his chest when he arrived back to the murder house. The residents were surprised he didn’t come home with another victim or even a drop of blood on him. His face was flush and he was in deep thought. Luckily for the residents, souls were not congesting the house, as Michael would make sure to burn the new souls as soon as he could. He whispered nonsense to himself as he made his way up to the attic. His trance was interrupted by his foot hitting a box. Had it always been there? He slowly took the lid off, finding an old camcorder and lots of tape. Was he living in the movie ‘sinister’? He was the scariest thing in this house, no ghoul could ever top him.

The box gave him something to do for the rest of the night. Returning with some snacks and in his pyjamas. The entertainment didn’t last long. It was just shitty home movies from former residents. It got worse when they’d come forward and explain them. He turned his face in disgust at the last one; a homemade sex tape. He gagged before turning it off. The sun was rising, telling him to go to bed. As he put the camcorder way, he had a genius idea.

////

You felt weird when you woke up. It was as if someone had been watching you. Your blinds were slightly open, and your bedroom door ajar. Had someone been in? As you walked through the house, something just seemed a little off. Things were ever so slightly out of place. There even seemed to be less fruit juice this morning than you were sure you had last night. Maybe it was the paranoia of the current situation getting to you. You sighed and shook your head before going to get ready for the day.

////

You hated working in the family and wills sector of the legal profession. You were hoping to make the move to fashion law soon, just waiting for the right opportunity. You really weren’t made for the requests of dead people and their bickering relatives.

You greeted one of the partners. Ms Grace everyone called her. She was your mento and a mother figure to you out here in the big bad legal world. Hopefully, she’d give you a good reference when you left. “New client for you today, just… entire dead family,” she whispered the last bit, making a cutting gesture with her hand. “That sounds horrible.” She nodded, before letting you set up for the day. ////

It was afternoon before said client showed up. Your office phone rang informing you of his arrival. A tall, blond man sat in the waiting room; his eyes widened in recognition when he saw you. You decided to ignore it. “Hello, are you Mr. Langdon?” “I am.” “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, in Y/N and I’ll be taking your case,” you held your hand out for him to shake. It was comfortably warm. “Please, call me Michael.” You nodded and smiled, before leading him to your office. “Any refreshments before we get started?” He shook his head. From the outside, his case looked simple However, the deaths in his family left a convoluted mess, but you were sure Mr Langdon would get what he wanted. He was the only legal and living heir after all. You chatted away as you printed off and filled out the relevant forms. The conversation came easy. It had been a while since someone had caused butterflies in your stomach.   You weren’t unprofessional however, keeping it professional with clients. When all was done for the session, you saw him out and waved him off. The interaction with him had left you a little flush. The receptionist giving you a knowing look.

////

This was totally unplanned. Michael wasn’t expecting to see you so soon. He thought that maybe his father had a hand in this, a reward for his hard work. He made his way back home, keeping the packet you gave him close, it still faintly smelled of you. He sat on the couch facing the other house. Images of you occupying his mind. It all got too much, lazily stroking himself to the thought of you that afternoon. ////

He left the house again, camcorder in hand. He pressed record as soon as he got inside your house. Filming every little detail leading up to your room. Even filming himself waving in the hallway mirror, as if he were recording and innocent home video.

He slowly opened your door. You accidently left the lamp on that night, giving him the perfect lighting. He zoomed in on your face before getting closer. Your duvet was blocking the view, reaching forward to carefully move it a little. Running his thumb over your lips and getting it on camera. He groaned at the softness. His fingers skimmed over your face, neck and collarbones. He watched as your nose crinkled a little at the touch. Cute. His evening plans were abruptly cut short when your phone began to ring. At this hour? Who was it? You began to stir at the invasive sound. Michael didn’t have time to run, transmuting out the house as fast as he could.

////

In his free time, Michael indulged in all that his family would disapprove of. And nothing could vex Constance Langdon more than her shitty grandson doing all types of drugs. He liked the feeling weed gave him. It helped him relax after the adrenaline rush of a kill. Sometimes, the murder house had a horrible stench of weed and rotting flesh, prompting the residents to keep the windows open. He even tried other things, like Acid and MD. He didn’t like the restlessness they gave him. He especially hated when his face would morph in the mirror, turning him into the people he hated the most. He wondered what it would be like to get high with you. He wanted to melt into you just like he did the floor when the THC finally got him. If he couldn’t get to you that night, he would replay the tapes on the big screen and jack off, wishing you were there. The residents of the house watched in disgust and horror. They may have done terrible things but surely, they weren’t this bad.

////

Mr Langdon’s case had successfully ended, he had gotten what he wanted. You bumped into him a week later, on your lunch break. “Oh? Y/N? so nice to see you,” he stood in the line at your favourite coffee shop. “Like wise,” you smiled up at him. “Would you like anything? I insist. It’s the least I can do.” You tried to reject his kindness but didn’t want to hold up the line, giving him your order. You both sat at a quiet table, waiting for your drinks and pastry. “I don’t usually see my clients on lunch breaks.” “Former client,” he pointed out, taking a sip of his coffee. You watched him add five packets of sugar and wondered why he didn’t just get a sweeter drink. Your conversation continued, with your shoes constantly touching under the table. It felt very childish, but maybe you were missing the playfulness in life. Your phone alarm went off, indicating you had to get back to work. As your phone was unlocked, Michael took it and tapped his number in, leaving you at the table with a wink.

////

These interactions led to casual dates. The murders began to slow down, making you feel a little safer. With this in mind, you accepted Michael’s invitation when he invited you over. You were nervous as you waited for him to open the door. The evening breeze did little to distract you from the feeling of being watched. Michael opened the door and you sighed in relief. “You look… beautiful,” he stuttered. “Not too bad yourself,” you smiled back.

He moved aside to let you in, leading you to where he had set up. “I didn’t know you could cook.” “I’m a man of many talents.” He looked out the window, making sure the other house was watching. They looked nervous, hoping you would leave in one piece. They watched you laugh and talk. This could not have been the same boy that had terrorised so many. He was confident, suave, and personable. Worlds away from the awkward, nervous cry baby of a serial killer that they had become used to. He cleaned up well, even tidying up his wild hair. They wondered how long it would last. How long would it take for you to see the real him? They hoped you got out before it got to that state. The time flew by, and you both seemed to get closer by the second. You didn’t notice until your noses were touching, conversation halting. He seemed to be waiting for something, almost hesitant. You took the initiative and captured his lips. All of his hesitation melted away, his hand reaching around you and pulling you closer. The kiss got more heated, indicating that it would lead to something else. However, luck was not on your side. You phone ringing and interrupting you. Michael wanted to smash that phone; this was the second time it had stopped him. You apologised before picking up. Michael watched your expression change and brows knit in annoyance. You put the phone down, apologising. “I’m so sorry Michael, but I’m going to have to go, I’ve been called into work tomorrow and this is an important client, I hope you can understand.” “Of course, I’m sure you’re busy and I won’t keep you. Do you want me to drop you off?” He didn’t know why he asked that question, he didn’t have a car. “Oh thank you so much for understanding, and the offer. I drove here myself so there’s no need to worry about that,” you smiled at him. Michael helped you with your belongings, leading you out the door. You turned to thank him again, before he leaned down to give you another kiss, causing you to blush. He walked you to your car, taking in the interior. He waved you off with a smile. He knew you’d be back soon. ////

Michael shut the door behind him. He thought the night was a success. He opened the cupboard and pulled out your jacket. He hid it away, so you’d forget about it. The designer logo stood out to him. He buried his face in the fur, taking in all of it. Your scent, your warmth, everything. He had been so close to you. He wanted to watch the tapes with this in hand, for that he would have to venture next door. He wasn’t prepared to finally come face to face with his grandmother, looking down on him, cigarette in hand. “Michael fucking Langdon,” her southern drawl was harsh. He hadn’t been spoken to like that in years. He gulped as he watched her slowly walk down the stairs. “Why haven’t you grown out of that terrible habit of yours. You just have to destroy pretty things.” She stopped at the step just above him, still looking down. She gently stroked his face like she used to when he was a child, and he leaned into the touch. The peace was disturbed by a loud slap echoing through the house. Michael’s face turned to the side. He held his cheek, slowly turning to the woman with bleary eyes. “You have some nerve coming back to this house with that attitude of yours, clearly the ‘Church’ didn’t teach you any manners” Michael was trying to find his voice, to finally face the woman that he blamed for half of his problems. “And now look at you, that poor girl doesn’t even know the half of it.” She snatched the coat away from him. “Look at this Michael, this is Prada. And did you see the car she drove? What makes you think you deserve her? Look at yourself,” she gestured towards him. “Hair unkempt, Jobless, all you eat is candy and human flesh. What are you going to when she finds out the truth?” Michael hadn’t actually thought about that. He had neglected himself and his appearance for a while now. Did it really matter that much?

////

“Look, Y/N, all I’m saying is that you can do better. Look at you, you’re beautiful and well dressed and have such a good job. And him, well… he’s a little scruffy and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t even have a car,” Ms Grace did not approve of your relationship with Michael. She thought you could do better. “I see where you’re coming from but he’s charming. Although I do agree he could clean up a little better. I’ve seen him all dressed up and he looks so good. I just don’t understand why he chooses to look like… that most of the time,” the last bit was more meant for yourself. Your conversation was interrupted by Kevin, a colleague from another office. “He should take a page out of Kevin’s book,” Ms Grace pointed out. Kevin raised a brow at the conversation he had just become a part of. He too was on a lawyer salary, a well-dressed man that anyone would swoon for. “Who’s ‘he’?” “Y/Ns …. Boyfriend?” Ms Grace replied. “Nothing to concern yourself too much with Kevin, you know what Ms Grace is like,” you interjected. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend. He must be something to reach those high standards of yours,” he pointed out. “Oh he’s something alright,” Ms Grace muttered. You huffed at the conversation. You didn’t think you were a superficial person, but your colleagues thought otherwise. //// Michael had heard enough. Sometimes he would scry into your workplace, just to check on you, to see if you thought of him as much as he did. The conversation reinforced Constance’s criticisms from the other day. He hadn’t felt this self-conscious in a while. He was not one to idle, immediately finding a hair stylist with an availability. He wanted a transformation that would floor you. With that in mind, he headed to ‘Gallants’. //// The hairstylist was truly annoying, yet he seemed to have magic in his hands. The final reveal shocked Michael also. The confidence he had at Hawthorne seemed to return. He held his head just a little higher as he walked out. He felt everyone’s eyes on him, people stopping to stare at the angelic looking man that strutted down the street. On his way to his next destination, he stopped at the sight of a certain symbol. An inverted cross. His feet had a mind of their own, leading him inside. His scar began to tingle. The congregation turned to stare at the man that had just walked in. They knew. It had to be. The high priestess getting on her knees before him. He could get used to this. //// He reached his final destination for the day. He didn’t usually kill men, but if they got in his way, he didn’t care who he killed. He waited for Kevin to come home. He was going to kill him here. He wasn’t worth the effort of taking him all the way to the murder house. Michael didn’t even give the man a chance to scream. Getting rid of him with a snap of his fingers. //// The murder house watched Michael carefully curate his image the next few months. An entire new wardrobe, his old clothes dumped in the murder house. They watched the elaborate skincare ritual every morning. Carefully peeling away masks and applying serums. How very American Psycho of him. You loved the new look. You made sure everyone in the office new you’d made the right choice. Michael loved the new attention, but he made sure you knew he only had eyes for you. He even planned on offering you a better job in Kineros’ legal team, just so he could keep you close and get you out of the sector you complained about so often. //// A strange thing happened one night. Michael took the camcorder down into the basement with him, setting the lens to record his newest victim. After he was done, he burned the footage onto a disk. What was he up to? //// You were on autopilot as you opened your door. You felt numb. Ms Grace had become another victim to ‘the Alpha’ along with one of your neighbours. You spent the entire day in police interviews, trying to make sense on the situation. As you walked into the house, you stepped on something. A thick envelope, labelled only with your name. You picked it up with shaky hands and opened it. In it was just an unlabelled disc and a sticky note saying ‘love from the Alpha’. It made your blood run cold. This had to be a joke. Some was messing with you; it could be the only explanation. You ran to your DVD player, you had to see what was on the disc, you hoped it was some shitty quality movie ripped from the internet. The video came on, starting in a dark room. The camera turned to a woman tied up, it zoomed in on her face and you immediately recognised her as Ms Grace. Your eyes widened and you felt ill, running to the bathroom to be sick. It was still playing when you came back, changing to a different video. It was dark again but it all seemed so familiar. The camera panned up and you gasped, your hands covering your face. It was a video of you, sleeping in your own home. You no longer felt safe here. You quickly took the disc out and grabbed your essentials, running to your car. As you pulled out your street, you had no idea what turn to take. Turning right would lead to the police station, you could submit the disc and ask for protection. However, they rarely did anything about stalking cases, and the disc had your finger prints all-over it. A left turn would lead to Michael. You felt safe around him and you were sure he could offer you comfort at this time. The beeping behind you made you make your decision. //// You pulled up outside Michael’s house. You rapidly knocked on the door, there was no answer. No light was on in the house. You prayed to whoever that would listen that he didn’t have any other plans for the night. As you lost hope and looked around, your eyes fell to the imposing structure next door. You remembered a conversation where he had said he was restoring the home. A light was on. With a deep breath, you ran up the steps, repeating your previous actions and hoping for a response. A shocked Michael opened the door. You immediately wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his chest and sobbing. You didn’t notice the feral look he had going on. Hair dishevelled and blood-stained clothes. He gently put the knife down and wrapped his arms around you, cooing and shushing you. Telling you to calm down and it would all be okay. He was glad you were wearing a dark colour; you hadn’t noticed the stickiness of his hands and the stain they left. He gently moved you into the house, shutting the door. He used his magic to shut the basement door too. Your face was still buried in his arm as he walked you up the stairs. You should have paid attention to your strange surroundings. The ghosts of the house looked at you with the greatest of pity, wishing they could do something.

He sat you down on the bed, kneeling before you and taking your hands in his. “Hey, look at me. What’s going on?” he asked gently, wiping your eyes. You sniffled and calmed your breathing, trying not to freak out again as you explained the situation to him. “I… I think he’s after me,” you whispered. “Who’s ‘he?” “The Alpha, he’s after me, I know it.” Michael paused, you must have seen the DVD. He had to stop himself from laughing. “Why do you think that hmm?” his thumb stroked your cheek. “Three people I know have died and then I got this DVD in the mail,” you paused, “It… it’s a video of Ms Grace tied up and then one of me sleeping,” you began to cry again. Michael sat on the bed next to you, pulling you in for a hug, you buried your face into him again, taking in his scent and trying to calm down. “You’re the only person I feel safe around,” you mumbled. Michael smiled into your hair. He had you exactly where he wanted. ////

You decided to wash your face after you had calmed down. Wetting a towel with cold water, you placed it on your eyes in an attempt to de-puff them. The ghosts thought this was the perfect opportunity to warn you about your possible doom. Vivienne pulled open the shower curtain behind you. Revealing a bathtub full of ice and another victim placed in it. However, their plan didn’t seem to work. You didn’t even look back at the sound, having walked out the bathroom just in-time. Michael was sitting on the bad, waiting for you. He had changed into more casual clothing and was rolling a joint. “It might help you calm down,” he smiled up at you, twisting the end off. You sat back on the bed and joined him, relaxing into the headboard. The conversation was casual and mundane, something you really needed right now. Between the sound of his voice and the passing of the joint, you had no idea how much time had passed. All you knew at this moment was that you wanted to be as close to him as possible. Hands began to wander, and your lips met for a heated kiss, you ended up straddling him. You let yourself be lost in the haze, not knowing exactly when your clothes came off, just that you enjoyed the feel of his skin on yours. You lifted your hips, moving to finally having him inside you, to be as close as you could be. You waited a little, resting your forehead on his shoulder as you got used to his size and took it all in. The feeling of his hands rubbing up and down your spine was blissful. His hands finally rested on your hips, gripping them and encouraging you to finally move. You complied, taking your time. You moved away from his shoulder. He took the opportunity to leave marks all over your breasts. It just felt so good. You could feel that you wouldn’t last much longer, your movements becoming sloppier. Michael rested his hand on your throat, his face morphed into something a lot more vicious than you were used to. It must have rang some alarm bells, but you weren’t listening. His grip on your neck tightened, and his hips began to thrust up, meeting your movements. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as his grip tightened once more, causing the coil in your belly to snap. Your legs shook, walls pulsing around him as he followed not long after. He pulled you into a deep kiss by your neck, slowly moving you off him and onto the bed. You lay there catching your breath, staring into his eyes. Just for that brief moment, nothing else mattered, forgetting about the serial killer that was on the hunt somewhere. You got closer to him and got comfortable, your head resting on his chest, being lulled by his heartbeat. “I was thinking,” he started. “Hmm?” you mumbled back, enjoying the vibration of his speech. “Maybe you should take a break from work for a while and stay with me for a bit, just until things calm down,” he suggested. At that moment in time, the combined high of weed and sex made it seem like a genius idea. Surely it was the most obvious solution? “Yeah it’s a good idea,” you yawned. The exhaustion caught up to you, your heavy eyes falling shut. Michael squeezed you just a little tighter and smirked up at the residents that had surrounded you. Their looks of pity towards you were something else. Michael buried his face into your hair, turning off the lights around him. It was the most blissful sleep he had had in years.

////

You woke up sometime the next afternoon. Michael was nowhere to be seen. After using (the now empty) bathroom, you ventured through the house. It looked different. It looked complete in a way. The tarp, random cans of paint and building materials that you were sure where there last night, were gone. It was as if it had been transformed overnight. The strangest thing was how familiar the décor and interior looked. It looked like a bigger version of your own home. It felt familiar yet uncomfortably so. Quite frankly, it looked like your dream home, styled as if it was going to featured in Architectural Digest. You knew it didn’t look like this last night, nothing close to it. Then you thought back to the wardrobe upstairs, the one you had sleepily pulled your current clothing out of. It was full of your own clothing. Clothing that you didn’t bring with you. Did Michael do this while you were asleep? When did he get the time? You scoured the house for your car keys and purse. Only finding pieces of familiar décor instead. Your stomach got the better of you, heading to the kitchen and hopefully finding something to eat. The pantry was stocked full of your favourites, pulling out a box of your favourite cereal. It was at this moment you were sure that all the pieces were taken from your home. One of the cereal bowls had the same chip that yours had. The nervousness and paranoia of last night began to seep back into you, your face visibly twisted in those emotions. As you mindlessly ate your cereal, the basement door creaked open. You stopped mid chew to look. You quickly swallowed and slowly walked towards it. Telling yourself that there was nothing to fear, and that you were just going to shut it. You heard a thud as you reached the door. Maybe Michael was down there and needed some help or something. You slowly walked down the steps, being careful not to make any noise. Your hand covered your mouth to stop your scream and prevent you from vomiting from the smell. The image forever burned into your memory. There was blood everywhere. Michael had his back turned to you, you were sure he hadn’t sensed your presence yet. You slowly backed away, trying to be quiet and not alert him. You let out a shaky breath when you were back in the hallway. You didn’t care about finding your things now, you had to get out of here. The front door wouldn’t budge open, the backdoor was no different. None of the window’s downstairs would open either. You then remember one of the windows was cracked open in the room you were sleeping in. You may injure yourself, but it looked like your only way out. You pushed the window up even further, making enough room for you to jump out. You hoisted one leg over the ledge, looking out for your landing spot. You prepared yourself to move the other leg, but it wouldn’t budge. You tugged at it a few times before looking back. Those blue, rage filled eyes were staring back at you, holding your leg, and preventing you from getting out. “Get. Back. In.,” he said, through clenched teeth. You shook your head, looking away from him. You didn’t want to think about who’s blood he was covered in. “Please let me go,” you whispered, hoping he’d take mercy on you somehow. His grip just got tighter. You mustered up all your strength, kicking him off you. He let go of your leg, it gave you enough time to jump. You felt the wind rush around you as you fell. You hit the ground a lot harder than you thought. Your head ricocheted off the ground painfully. You ignored the crunch your legs made. Everything hurt so bad, the pain wouldn’t even let you scream. You knew you had calculated your fall right. The ghosts thought you did too, all watching with various shocked expressions. You tried to move and look around you and stay awake. You could only look up. Through your darkening vision, the last thing you saw was Michael leaning out the window, smiling down at you. The cat had caught the canary.

////

You groaned in pain as you opened your eyes.

The light was blinding, difficult to adjust to.

Where were you? Why were you here? How long had it been?

As you looked around, the room looked familiar, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

“Oh? You’re finally awake, It’s been a few days, I missed seeing your eyes” a male voice spoke from beside you.

You slowly turned your head to the voice.

The man looked familiar; you raked your brain to figure out who it was.

He placed his hand on your cheek, you hissed and flinched as he stroked scabby and bruised skin. “Look at you. If you had stayed inside, we wouldn’t be here now, would we?”

His eyes finally met yours and everything came rushing back.

A feeling of dread overtook you. You tried to shuffle away from him, but something was preventing you from moving.

You tried to figure out what it was. Looking yourself over, noticing the blanket was bulky.

You momentarily forgot about the predator in the room, pulling the blanket away and revealing your legs, both in casts.

One of the casts had been signed, ‘get well soon, Love, your Alpha’.

You wanted to sob, but you knew any sudden movements would be painful.

Michael rolled his eyes and pulled the blanket back over you, tucking you in.

“If you’re good, you’ll get your painkillers. If you’re bad…,” he leaned over you, putting his weight on your legs, “I’ll cut them off next time,” he grinned.

He got onto the other side of the bed, holding you close to him, squeezing you just a little too tight, and giving your forehead a kiss.

Not even the apocalypse could get you out of his grasp now, he’d kill you both before anything tried to take you from him. Wherever you were, that was his sanctuary. Even if it meant eternal torment in the pits of hell, it didn’t matter, as long as it was with you.

[akachaan]

the golden-winged king [xiao]

genre: angst

warnings: death, blood

notes: pls im so proud of this writing BYE

The gentle chirps of birds graced Xiao’s ears. He recognized this as a melody of nature, the sunlight cascading a loving warmth onto his pale skin. Lush and rich grass blew in the breeze, one of the few somethings that Xiao actually appreciated from the Wind Archon. He chuckled breathlessly, a feeling of lighthearted mischief settling upon him. Xiao imagined how Venti would pout and scold him for his unbearably disrespect remarks, as he liked to call them. The grass entwined itself into his gloved hand like a silky ribbon. The light, fluffy clouds passed by, drifting away like dandelion seeds floating in the winds.

Xiao’s legs began to ache— the reason unknown —so he’d sat himself down, assuming he’d been basking in the beauty of the flower field for much too long. Ah, flowers. He’d almost forgotten just how intricately designed they were. Well, as a Guardian Yaksha, there’s only so much you can stop and admire. What were the names of these? The petals were pale blue from the bottom fading into a remarkable teal color, four pastel purple strands sprawling out from the top.

Glaze lilies, he recalled. These flowers only bloom once sung to, yes? He remembers this from a certain... human. He smiles fondly at the thought of them. “Xiao, Xiao!” A familiar and soft voice called. Speak of the devil.

Xiao turned to them, and his breath was caught in his throat. It’s like time slowed down, just for them. Just for him. He took a deep breath, his eyes softening, showing vulnerability he’d been hiding for a millennia. Your shining, soft locks framed your face, [c] eyes shining with love and purity. Xiao had seen skies like an ethereal dream, twinkling like sparklers trapped in the deep cerulean sky... But none of those galaxies and any to come would even compare to your radiant image. You were an angel sent from heaven, one to remind him what life can truly bring upon humanity; people like you.

You were like his little secret of sorts. Not a secret of the world. Anyone could meet or find [Name]. He knew anyone could come and sweep you away from him— though he doesn’t enjoy thinking of such ideas —he knew. It could happen. But, he also knew, and he trusted that you wouldn’t truly leave him, after all they’ve been through. He knew that you confined in him just as he did you, he felt like he was finally certain in his eternity of suffering and emptiness. Days that went by where he felt as if he were just existing. He was not living, he never was. Xiao was simply a guardian, assigned to protect Liyue until he drops dead from exhaustion. He was existing as The Guardian Yaksha, Conquerer of Demons.

But with you, he was not any of those. He was not just existing, watching over a nation til his last breath. Your presence alone made him feel warm. Him feeling was already an achievement in itself, after all these years as standing on the sidelines, secluded; no matter how close to Liyue he physically was, he felt so different and disconnected from his people. He’d only be remembered as tale to be told. The way that you made him feel. Not only have you made him feel, you’ve made him feel warm. A ‘warmth’ that he wishes to bask in for the rest of his existence. Warmth. Xiao knew this wasn’t the word to describe how he truly felt. By definition, yes, Xiao admits, albeit hesitantly. But he couldn’t help but feel it was so much deeper than that. You made him feel a warmth that burned his insides. The feeling had words caught in his throat, he often struggled to form a single coherent sentence when you eyes twinkled with a joy he can’t quite grasp. It made him stutter, the way you looked so blissed and euphoric in his company. He loved it. He loved how the butterflies in his stomach never seized, fluttering and flying with each second. His heart raced like a tiger running after its prey, running at miles per minute. He felt so human. So alive. So loved, and he’s finally experienced what it’s like to love. He never wanted it to end.

You laid yourself onto the luxuriant meadow of nature, the blades of green tickling at your cheek. The sun caressed your skin like a mother would her child, giving you an angelic-like glow. Your eyes had drew closed as you listened to what was around you. Distant animals chirping and buzzing filled your ears along with the synchronized breathing of you and the boy next to you. You smiled, your heart thumping against your chest as savored the peace of this moment.

Xiao turned his head to admire the gift the Archons had given him. He saw how amicable this whole ordeal was and how much you were enjoying it. It wasn’t everyday the two of you had the time to lay down and appreciate each other and what the Earth truly had to offer, though I’m sure that’s been made clear. The soft whisper of his name felt like a melody being sang to him, and he couldn’t help but smile.

Another sweet murmur of his name was called. And another. And another. Xiao grew worried. With every purr of his name, he could hear desperation and panic in your tone. That alone had him sick to his stomach. He sat up, his eyes now greeted with an all-too-familiar setting.

The sky was dark with stormy clouds, rain thundering heavily onto the bloodstained ground. The air was no longer crisp and clean but instead reeked of the metallic scent of blood and sweat. He could almost taste the blood on his lips. Xiao looked at his hands, dirtied and course with dried ichor. What was once his peaceful escape of serendipity was now a horrid sight of what he used to be. The murderous machine of what he promised himself to cast away since The Archon War. Screams of retreat, pain, defeat and victory mixed in his head, which was now throbbing from the sudden change in scenery. Why was he here?

More importantly, where were you?

“Xiao... Thank god you’re alive.” Your broken voice chuckled, growing dryer in the passing seconds. His head snapped to you, who was laying on the floor, absolutely beaten up. His heart ached at the sight, and he reached to gently cup your face, as if one wrong move could completely shatter you. You gasped for air before continuing, “I knew you would survive. There’s,” You paused to cough harshly, your body crumbling as the cough was let out, “no way the Xiao I know would loose to anyone.” He pulled you closer to his lap, panic and adrenaline coursing through his veins. He knew there was nothing he could do. But he still tried. He still tried to grasp onto what little hope he had left; it was all happening too quickly.

“Hang on. I’ve got you, okay?” He choked out after the initial shock. The time you have left and the time he would be able to get you proper medical attention were so obviously not in his favor. He picked you up, carrying you on his back. And he just ran. His legs moved like he was going to die if he didn’t hurry. Quite frankly, he would most definitely die emotionally. Xiao couldn’t loose you. Not now, not ever. He wanted to live with you until your died of old age, peacefully where you could’ve smiled on your deathbed. He remembers how you used to get mad at him for carrying you like this. The way your cheeks heated up and you buried your face into his neck always got a goofy smile on his face. But now, you were clinging onto his back as best you could— though it was a loose grip, you used what energy you had left in you to let him know you were still there with him.

But soon, too soon, you wouldn’t be, and you both knew it. “Xiao,” you called weakly.

“I said hang on. I’ll get you medical help soon. Please, keep your eyes open. You still have time.”

“Xiao...”

“You can’t leave me like this. I swore to hold you and protect you and love you for the rest of my life. Out of the many promise I’ve broken I can’t... I can’t break this one.”

“Xiao, listen...” The utter amount of suffering in your voice tore him apart more than the searing pains in his limbs. He knew he wouldn’t be able to make it in time no matter how fast he ran. So he obliged to your request and set you in his lap once again. He stared at your face, covered in dirt and scars. Yet you still looked at beautiful as ever.

“Please. Don’t go. I won’t know what to do without you.”

“I’m always here with you even if...” You trailed off, both from the lack of oxygen you had and the discomfort of finishing your own sentence. You felt tears brimming in your eyes, as you saw Xiao in such a vulnerable and tormented state. “Xiao...”

He caressed your face like a mother would her child. The sting of his heart drowned any physical injuries he had. Nothing would hurt more than the thought of losing you. The grass scratched at your cheek, and you winced at the feeling. Xiao tucked a hair strand behind your ear. As he leaned down to press his forehead against yours.

“Xiao... You are and forever will be my Golden-Winged King.”

And that was when the tears spilled. Your body went cold and limp in his own very hands, your eyes that shone with love and purity where now dark and lifeless. The smile that lit up his world was gone; replaced with a face of sorrow eternally etched onto your features. Xiao wondered. Death was a pitiful punishment, yet somehow so enchanting. You still looked as heavenly as ever. It was only then the pain of truly losing you settled in. You were never going to grace his ears with your melodic voice. You were never going to grace his eyes with your smile. You were never going to grace his senses with your adoring hugs.

You were never to grace his life again.

The Golden-Winged King had a fall from grace, just as you did in his own very arms.

[passivenovember]

Thinking about Steve’s glamorous southern Grandmother teaching him haircare and the ways of men.

--

Louisiana Girl.

On wispy Saturday afternoons she sat under the hooded dryer in a world made of candy. 

Bubblegum walls upon which pastel images of women in shiny blue makeup oversaw the hustle and bustle of women in Eden. Magazines open in their laps, gum smacking between cherry red lips, talking a mile a minute about the intricacies of life. 

Husbands and kids away at college, building a world that Steve hoped he could understand someday. And, in that twangy southern drawl that he knew came from this same place his mother did; Louisiana, where women were spun of gold the color of corn fields, his grandmother shared her secrets.

She was called Boo Boo because it made her feel young, and that was the first lesson Steve learned in his life. Women should always be made to feel young and beautiful. His mother’s mother was not nanna, or grandmama, or even Cheryl, which the ladies at the beauty parlor disclosed to Steve with smiles on their bright pink faces.

She was Boo Boo because she looked like Dolly Parton and smoked Marlboro golds like Johnny Cash, and always said that Steve was her greatest love. 

Everything about her was plated in gold, from her strawberry ringlets down to her heart.

Boo Boo never had much of a taste for Midwestern life. 

She thought of it as some special sort of hell Steve’s mother had been exiled to when she married Patrick Harrington. A desolate wasteland far from the molasses bayou's of the promised land. Displaced from the twangy guitars of Crosby Steels and Miss Lorette Lynn. 

Boo Boo never understood why Delilah couldn’t bring Steve home, to New Orleans. Why she insisted on keeping him in the world of men, content with a life devoid of magic.

Everything about Hawkins confused her. The way women wandered the streets with flat hair and unpainted nails was somethin’ else, she said, curious how they went without their armor. 

That was one of Boo Boo’s best kept secrets; women need their chainmail when they go out into the world. Any southern lady worth her weight in hairspray wouldn’t be caught dead with chipped polish, and she taught Steve how to be a southern woman through and through after the first time she caught him playing in his mother’s high heels.

Boo Boo called it what it was, from the very beginning. “Got to look pretty for your man someday, baby doll.” 

Steve watched as she slipped one long, golden finger nail under the hooded dryer, checking highlights trapped under waves of aluminum foam. “Daddy says I won’t ever get a husband.” Steve said, frowning. “Daddy says--”

“That man thinks Lemon Pepper chicken wings come wet, darlin’, I wouldn’t listen to a word he says.” Boo Boo smiled down at him, her long eyelashes fluttering. “Pretty little thing like you? I bet the boys will be swarming like honey bees in the springtime.”

Steve shook his head. “I’m not pretty. My knees looked like baked potatoes.”

“Potatoes?” Boo Boo declared. “I don’t think so, you just gotta grow into that figure. And you will, someday.”

Steve never found it much use to argue, never found his footing even as the stylist came and removed Boo Boo’s hair from the dryer and they migrated, as all birds do, south for the winter. 

To the mint green chair in front of the big mirror where the spells were cast, boxing them into that perfect little dollhouse wonderland.

Steve watched in awe, leaning against the palm of his hand as Boo Boo grew more and more beautiful by the minute.

He wished that could be him. He hoped, someday, it would be.

--

Boo Boo said that being a lady lived in more than just the spray that went on in the morning. 

It was easy to be beautiful. To paint yourself up like a Barbie doll and gain attention of all kinds from good and bad men alike, but it was harder to keep a level head. To do the right thing, the way God intended.

He took her word as truth. As he grew up, Steve realized a lot of girls would never be ladies and it was evident, Boo Boo said, in the way they treated each other. Always tearing the next one down to make room for themselves, providing compliments that sting and bite back, taking chunks of invaluable flesh with them as they go.

That was the mark of Cain. 

The undoubtable truth that they would never grow into something worthy of respect.

When Boo Boo came to town for Christmas the year Steve fell in love for the first time, he had to know.

“How do I get girls to like me?” He asked, posted up in front of his mother’s vanity as Boo Boo went to work on his hair. “I mean. How do I get them to understand that I don’t want to hurt them, and I’m not a threat to them--”

“Why would you be a threat, baby doll?”

Steve thought of Billy. 

Billy Hargrove, who made his bones turn to pudding cups and his heart burn red with fire and heat under the light of eyes so blue Steve felt like Dolly probably wrote that song about him.

I can see the light of a clear blue mornin’--

“There’s a boy.” Steve said.

Because. “There’s always a boy.” Boo Boo began mixing the bleach in her little green bowl, smiling to herself. “And these girls feel threatened by you?”

“He likes me.” Steve thought of Billy’s lips, so pink they tasted like strawberry bubblegum, pressed against his under the bleachers during fifth period. Before he could stop himself, Steve’s fingers brushed his bottom lip, remembering.

Feeling the way Billy’s teeth had pulled that sensitive flesh, almost like he wanted to--

“I think he likes me.” Steve shook his head. “And they’re mad at me. Like maybe I took Billy from them, or something.”

“As long as he wasn’t kissin’ some poor girl while he’s kissin’ you, I don’t see how they hold any claim over him.” Boo Boo said, pinning Steve’s hair down as she added highlights to his soft brown locks. Highlights the exact shade of her own. “Real women see strength and they applaud it. Tearing other women down ain’t gonna get you nowhere.”

Steve knew what she meant. He wasn’t a woman, he was old enough to know that now, but in the matter of love?

Steve might as well have been a thirteen year old girl, the way he wanted to fight for this boy. The way he’d develop that killer instinct, to take what was so clearly his. What Billy had given to him. 

“If they try to tear me down first, what do I do?”

Boo Boo took a drag from the cigarette between her lips, fingers never stalling as they wrapped Steve’s head in aluminum foam. “If they’re weak enough to go after what’s already done, they aren’t worth your time, darlin’.”

Steve thought about his mother. His shining star. He thought, too, of Mary Bell. The pretty redheaded girl who sometimes held his father’s arm too long at the office. 

He thought of what his mother was always saying on the phone, to other women her age, a glass of wine in one hand and a funny smelling cigarette in the other.

She’s trying to take my man. Delilah Harrington, who was just as pretty as a magnolia in may and who was tough as steel, crumbled with the weight of that sentence. She’s gonna take him.

Steve stuck his lip out in thought. “What if they try to take Billy away from me?”

Boo Boo cackled, lifting her perfect fingernails to snatch and snub the cigarette into a pretty pink ash tray. “Honey,” She said, smiling. “I don’t care if that girl is God’s gift to this Earth, she ain’t woman enough to take your man.”

[apiratewhopines]

Thanks to @teamhook for the updated artwork. She’s the only person I know who will provide a gift for her own gift 💝

Thanks to @motherkatereloyshipper for helping me pick Killian’s hometown in this story and for being an all around lovely person

Midnight

Chapter 2 — The Stroke

Summary: In which our heroine does what she does best

Chapter 2 of 7 on AO3

“And my imagination will feed my hungry heart,

Leave me one thing before we part”

-A Kiss to Build a Dream On, Louis Armstrong

The spot he was referring to was an out-of-the-way pub serving the greasiest onion rings in existence and a lively clientele that didn’t notice it was one o’clock in the morning and all decent people were in bed. After days of getting by on breakfast bars and the memory of what a full meal tasted like, Emma thought she had died and gone to heaven.

Melancholy tunes droned softly in the background as she demolished enough food to feed an army. The pretty waitress earned her respect when the woman didn’t even blink at her handsome companion, and she liked to think she earned it back when she ordered three of their daily specials without a trace of shame.

Ignoring the way Killian watched with an expression close to awe as she stuffed her face, she happily gulped down a cup of coffee and observed, “Nice place. Come here often?”

“Not as much as I used to,” he murmured, taking a sip of his drink. “Tell me about this man you’re hunting. Is it personal?”

“Please, don’t make me lose my appetite. Surely we can come up with something else to talk about,” she groaned around a mouthful of beef and melted cheese. He had removed his leather jacket when they entered the pub, and his black short sleeve t-shirt stretched across his biceps in a manner entirely too distracting for comfort. Their high-backed booth made it feel as though they were on an island all by themselves, the dark wood and Tiffany lamps creating a cozy cocoon while still allowing a view of the nearly deserted dance floor.

“Ah, definitely personal then. Did he insult your honor? Break your heart? Have you ever even been in love?”

It stung how quickly he was able to see through her. Did she wear her heartache like a stamp on her forehead announcing to everyone she was an idiot? Ignoring the last question, she replied, “He hurt the only person who ever cared about me out of petty revenge. Neal Cassidy broke me. Now I’m going to return the favor.”

“Chills, darling.” His tone was teasing, but she thought she saw him shudder at her words. “I guess you don’t abide the notion of turning the other cheek.”

“Not when the first hit cost me my home, my possessions, and my peace of mind.”

“So he’s the reason you haven’t eaten in days and don’t have any luggage? Sounds like a lovely chap.”

“I don’t need your commentary or your sympathy, Captain. While I appreciate your help tonight, and I definitely owe you one for the meal, I think my past is closed for further discussion. Let’s talk about you instead. What’s your story?”

“I don’t have one, love. What you see is what you get.”

“What I see is someone dodging my question. Guess I’ll have to fill in the details myself then. Let’s see…thirty-something-year-old man who lives a life of boredom and pines for more while feeling stuck in his white picket fence world. You have a decent career in a field that pays well but decided to start a side hustle to meet new people and have something to do after eight in the evening.” Gesturing with her chin toward his forearm, she continued, “Currently nursing his own broken heart over the woman who loved and left him. The only thing I can’t figure out is what part of England you’re from.”

“Well, aren’t you the perceptive one,” he answered with a self-deprecating chuckle. “Although, I would argue it’s cheating since I have my emotional baggage inked on my skin for everyone to see while you carry yours around like an invisible tumor on your soul. As far as where I’m from, a man likes to maintain a little mystery.”

“Come on! You really aren’t going to tell me anything about yourself? After I guessed all that about you?”

With an unfathomable look, he smiled softly and said, “Fine, I’m from Cambridge. Now you know all my secrets. And allow me to call your attention to how well my devious plan worked. My first evening with my side hustle, as you call it, and I’m already having a late night rendezvous with a beautiful woman. One full of food and dancing.”

“There will be no dancing, Captain. But I wouldn’t be opposed to more food.”

“Not sure where you’ll put it, love, there’s no more room on the table. But I’m game if you are. Come on, one dance, and I’ll buy you a whole pie.”

She wanted pie but not as much as she wanted to feel his arms around her. She wanted it so badly her mind raced with images of skin on skin and restless hands exploring. Then her stomach twisted at the knowledge they would say goodbye soon. They probably should have already said it, truth be told. As she debated what harm could come from giving in just this once, he extended his hand and pulled her gently from the seat. Slowly, she felt a small section of her walls crumble and gave him a reluctant smile. “One dance.”

The soft music wasn’t loud enough to allow for an appropriate selection of dance style, but she didn’t mind when he gathered her close and swayed gently in time with his soft humming. She felt his breath stir the hair around her face and realized this was a mistake. Now that she knew how it felt, it would be harder to deny herself an encore. Especially knowing tonight was a one-time thing.

“Tell me something, Swan. Do you believe in love at first sight?”

“No, I don’t believe in love at all,” she answered. Her words conveyed her deeply held conviction that poets and Hollywood movie producers invented love to make people so miserable with the lack of it, they had to seek out fictionalized versions to find some measure of happiness. Her tone, however, sounded as though she was open to being convinced otherwise.

“That’s a shame. I think you’ll miss out on a lot of what life has to offer by being so close-minded and scared.”

“If I were scared, which I’m not, I have every reason to be. One of my foster moms told me a long time ago that love wouldn’t buy me a diamond ring, and it was as easy to be in a relationship with a rich man as a poor one. Easier really. I used to think she was a witch, but now I think she had a point.”

“Bloody hell, what exactly did that man do to you?”

She felt his direct gaze like a physical thing caressing her even as his eyes flickered with disappointment. “I told you. He broke me. And my bank account.”

“Money isn’t everything, love.”

“Excuse me if I ignore advice telling me to count my non-monetary blessings from the man who picked me up in his Beamer. It may not be everything but not having it leaves you with nothing.”

“A person who needs forty dollars a day and makes forty is richer than someone who has everything and needs more.”

“Now you’re just being silly,” she said as she slipped from his arms. “And when a rainy day comes? What then?”

“I recently took up being an Uber driver in my spare time, love. I imagine I’ll make more on rainy days.”

Laughing as she looked at his endearing face under the dim light, she shook her head. “About my pie…”

—

She knew what she was doing. She lingered over the large platter containing a sampling of every type of pie the surprisingly eclectic menu had to offer. She watched him with affection as he critiqued each in turn, always saving the bites with whipped cream for her. The best parts, in other words.

She was stalling.

The night hadn’t turned out as she expected. While her main goal was unfulfilled, she couldn’t make herself think of it as a loss when her sides hurt from laughing, and her troubled heart felt at peace. It was a pity it had to end. And not because she had nowhere to go, although that was certainly the case.

Slowly they made their way back to his car, neither one speaking as the noises of the summer night buzzed in the background. She’d said a lot of goodbyes in her lifetime, eagerly in most cases, but was strangely reluctant to add this one to the list. “Well, Captain, it’s been an expensive night for you. I think you better drop me off at the nearest bus station before I cost you any more.”

“You’re always trying to bring the conversation back around to money. Get in,” he ordered as he handed her into the car.

The air in the cabin of his luxury sedan felt heavy with expectation. Neither of them spoke nor hardly moved a muscle. She considered asking him to turn on the radio but didn’t want to miss out on the last few moments of hearing his even breathing next to her. Minutes passed, and it took her a while to notice they had left Storybrooke and were heading back toward Misthaven. “How much further to the bus station?”

“We passed it several miles back. You’re going to stay at my place.”

Under normal circumstances, this would be where she prepared to kick someone’s ass, but she knew deep down, as surprising as his announcement was, she had nothing to fear from him. Well, nothing except a repeat of the broken heart fiasco that was getting harder to remember with every second spent in his company. “Oh no, I’m not. What happened to no strings and no funny business?”

“Calm down, Swan. Our deal stands. I’m working the rest of the night so you’ll have the place to yourself. Trust me, the bed in my guest room is much more comfortable than a seat at the bus station.” Without taking his eyes off the road, he reached into one of the compartments in the console and pulled out a key. “There are some shirts in the dryer if you need something to wear. Help yourself to whatever you want. If you hang around until nine, I’ll even make breakfast. If you don’t, leave the key under the Welcome mat.”

“I think you better keep your key, Captain. There are two ways this could end, and neither one is pretty.” She gave him a sidelong glance and was mildly irked to see him grinning at her.

“Only two? Please enlighten me with your power of premonition.”

Heaving a sigh of frustration, she wished he would be logical about this whole thing. Sure they had attraction in spades; the very air around them seemed to crackle with electricity whenever their eyes met. But she knew it would fade, and the only thing left then would be goodbye. Better to skip the messy part and go straight to the end. “The first is I stay and have breakfast, and it turns into the day and then another night….”

“That doesn’t sound so bad, love. And the second?”

“I leave the key under the mat, and we never see each other again.”

“Hmm, option two is decidedly less appealing. I’ll take what’s behind Door Number One, please,” he joked.

“You think so until reality sets in and you realize you’ve taken in a stray with a score to settle and not a cent to her name. It won’t be long before the sight of me in your shirts makes you cringe, and you resent having to share the couch with a woman who has nothing to give.” She would know having been in a relationship with a person who was only capable of taking, and she vowed never to do that to someone else.

“I have half a mind to hunt down this Cassidy fellow myself after seeing the hit job he did on you. Listen, Swan, the key has no strings. Breakfast is just food. Whatever happens, happens. But if you think I’m going to drop you off at a deserted bus station with only the clothes on your back, fetching as they are, you’ve got the wrong idea about me in more ways than one.”

“I’m not yours to rescue, Captain.”

“You could be,” he whispered in a voice that made her skin tingle. He tossed her a half-hearted smile, eyes stormy with the knowledge she was going to turn him down. Again.

“The fact we both want me to be is warning enough it’s a bad idea. Come on, Killian, let’s call it a night now so we can remember it fondly in the years to come.”

His jaw clenched, and she was worried he was going to fight with her sensible argument. People didn’t meet people in the middle of the road and form attachments in one night. This wasn’t a fairy tale, and she was as far from a princess as a person could get.

Although she had to admit he made a rather fine prince.

Pulling off into a nearby gas station, he turned to her and said almost threateningly, “We’re not through discussing this.”

Then he stepped out and slammed the door as the sky opened up.

—

It was a dirty trick. She knew even as she did it, but it was for his own good. For whatever reason, he felt like he needed to protect her, and she needed to save him from himself. So she waited until he walked into the convenience store and made a run for it.

That’s not to say she didn’t have a brief moment of whimsy. She couldn’t stop herself from placing a kiss on the key he had casually tossed to her as if inviting her into his home and his life wasn’t a big deal. Then she carefully placed it on the dash, grabbing the newspaper from his backseat as an afterthought, and scurried away before she was caught.

Like a rat.

Maybe Neal was exactly the kind of man she deserved.

The rain beat down in a punishing way, her makeshift umbrella getting soggy and soft under the onslaught. She was so busy looking over her shoulder, convinced he was going to search for her and half hoping he was successful, that the sudden absence of the storm took her by surprise.

“Here, miss, it’s raining cats and dogs tonight,” the sturdy doorman of the fancy establishment she was passing said as he reached out to place his umbrella over her. The burgundy awning extended to cover most of the sidewalk and, despite the late hour, classical music was drifting from the open door. Limousines lined the street, spilling well-dressed patrons as they approached the swanky club.

Before she could maneuver out of the way, she was swept into a tide of rich fish, all glammed out and ready for the party to start or continue as the case may be. She overheard one woman, whose hat was so large she had to tilt her head to make it through the door, complain, “Regina’s parties are always so dull even nature weeps.”

Deciding a boring party indoors was better than a lonely night in the rain, Emma changed her stance and walked over the threshold with her head held high like she belonged there. She noticed the plaque on the wall as she entered read The Rabbit Hole and couldn’t help but think it was aptly named. With its marble floors and curving staircase, it was no wonder this wasn’t one of the stops on the Captain’s tour of town. This place was as high-end as they came.

There was a man collecting tickets at a small side table and, with only a minute to improvise, she was glad to see the stubs were roughly the size of the photo she was toting around, one of the few remaining possessions to her name. Without a moment of regret, she turned the photo face down, relieved the love note Neal had written on the back was faded and worn, so only his faint signature was legible. Luckily, the sheer volume of people entering the place meant the employee merely took it from her without looking to confirm it was what it appeared to be.

Following the crowd into a large ballroom off to the side, she saw a black grand piano played with a precise kind of violence by a wild-haired man in a tuxedo. The room was packed to the gills, the group she straggled in with taking the last seats on the far side of the room. The audience was appreciative but far from silent, conversations carrying on as if private concerts of this caliber were a normal everyday occurrence for them. Every time Emma thought she found a place to rest her sore feet and sorer heart, someone took it before she could get there and, in one near miss, she almost flattened a lap dog that warranted his own seat for the show.

Finally, after pushing her way through a narrow row, she found a place and asked the man in the next chair with a hint of desperation, “Is this seat taken?”

Shrugging a silent negative with brooding eyes that lit up when she neared, she tried to ignore the searching glance he gave her as she dropped into the chair and surreptitiously removed her shoes. She could tell by the hint of a smirk he noticed the movement, but at least he had the good grace not to comment on it.

He was handsome in a careworn kind of way. His tousled dark hair and thick stubble were eerily similar to the Captain’s look, and it made her shuffle in her seat with guilt. The man kept staring, his light-colored eyes settling somewhere between gray and green, keenly taking in her appearance and finding it amusing if the continued presence of his smirk was any indication.

As the final notes of the concerto echoed through the room, a burst of applause started. Now that she was fed and able to sit for a few moments, Emma realized she was exhausted. It was a bone-deep weariness far beyond fatigue, and she was fairly confident it could be traced back to a man with blue eyes and more charm than any one person should be allowed to have.

She wondered where Killian was now. If he had already given up or if he was wasting more time and losing out on more money combing the streets looking for his erstwhile damsel in distress. Emma knew what she did was for the best as surely as she knew she would be haunted by the feeling of his arms wrapped around her for a long time.

After a brief break, the musician approached the piano again. Before he could start hammering out another song with the intensity of a madman, a raven-haired woman stepped in front of the instrument. She called out in a commanding voice, “Pardon the interruption but does anyone recognize this man? It would seem there was a mix-up at the ticket counter and someone accidentally handed in a photograph instead of their invitation to this private event.”

Resisting the urge to sink deeper into her chair, she furtively looked around as the audience murmured amongst themselves regarding the unusual disruption. She could tell by the sardonic tone of the woman’s voice and the way she emphasized the word private she wasn’t convinced it was an innocent mistake. A scene would be made if the guilty party were found and couldn’t provide the appropriate documentation.

“Really? No one is going to come forward?” With an annoyed look at the assembly, she sulked, “Fine, I won’t waste any more of your time.”

She saw the woman hurry to the corner and carry on a quick conversation with a few men before the group disbursed and fanned out to cover the room. Feeling her luck was running out, she slipped her feet back into her shoes with barely a wince and slowly stood under the watchful gaze of her neighbor.

She needed to escape for the second time that night, but now she had hundreds of witnesses. Nonchalantly, she surveyed the room, trying to determine the best way. During this perusal, a man caught her eye, and she froze as he began to cut across the room to her side. So much for a stealthy getaway.

Her pursuer had an air of refined boredom with an edge of mischief. His graying hair was an attractive finish to a lean, well-dressed form. Cocking an eyebrow in disdain or maybe curiosity, he spoke quietly to not draw the notice of the surrounding crowd. “A word, madam.”

“With me?”

“Indeed.”

“I was afraid you were going to say that.” Squaring her shoulders, she ignored the way her neighbor watched with rapt attention as she resolutely marched toward her fate.

@teamhook @kmomof4 @jrob64 @motherkatereloyshipper @stahlop @xarandomdreamx @xsajx @klynn-stormz

[theamberwriter]

Ficmas Day 1: One More Sleep [Tenya Iida]

Pairing: ProHero!Tenya Iida x Fem!Reader

Song: One More Sleep by Leona Lewis

Word Count: 5.4k

A/N: I tried to get this done a few days ago, but I was just so tired 😭 Anyway, I hope that you guys like it!

~

Tenya rubbed his eyes groggily, staring at the ceiling. He rolled over to look at the clock on the nightstand. 3:43 AM. How frustrated he was by this. He should've been asleep hours ago. He sat up, deciding it was no good. Sleep wouldn't come, not until you were here by his side.

    He checked his phone for the date. December 21th. Four. More. Days. Five more grueling, restless nights. Tenya figured he should've been used to this. Spending time apart. Your relationship had been that way since the beginning. You traveled for work while he stayed put. Doing the hero gig he'd always dreamed of.

    But now - so close to Christmas - it was impossible to think of anything else but you. Here. In the bed you'd spend nearly a year deciding on because he insisted you had to look at all the options first. Your side was barely worn. It made his heart ache in ways he was too stubborn to admit.

    Tenya wondered if it's be too cruel to ask you to stop. To stop traveling. To stay put, just for a little while. No more calling at wild hours. No more flickering signals or long distance fees. Just you and him. Together in the home that you'd bought. The place you made love and fought and kissed endlessly to make up for lost time.

    But when was enough, enough?

    He swung his feet out of bed, put on his glasses, and slid on his slippers. A blue bathrobe hung from the best post. It was one you'd bought him last year from somewhere over seas. You had said it reminded you of his eyes. Apparently you'd worn it considerably before gifting it. It was drenched in your scent by the time it reached his hands. The collar smelled like your shampoo, the rest of smelling of your favourite spray. You'd bashfully admitted you wore it because you missed him. And this one little thing made you feel closer.

    Your smell had been washed from it by now. But he silently wished it was still there as he put it on. He only flicked on a few lights as he made his way to the kitchen. A warm cup of tea on a cold, snowy night sounded wonderful. Tenya looked out at the piling snow as he waited for the water to boil.

    He worried your flight would get delayed. Or worse – it'd be put off until after the storm passed. Sure, he'd video chatted you early that evening. But he felt like he'd die if he had to wait even a single day more than he already had to. He ran a hand through his hair. What a funny thing love was.

    Tenya had never expected you to come into his life. He never really expected to share love with anyone. It was just another thing his brother talked sweetly of. Telling him, “Tenya, you'll know when she's the one.” Tenya breathed his brother's every word like gospel.

    Except for that one.

    What had Tensei meant by you'll know – it wasn't very informative. It didn't help too much. It only kept him guessing as he passed attractive women. Until Tenya found you. It wasn't love at first sight. Not entirely. But the first words he thought when he saw your face? I just found my wife.

    It had been such a nauseating, powerful experience. One little glance as you said 'hello' from your new spot at a desk in his agency. Tenya had rushed away, and left out the back so he wouldn't have to pass you again.

    It was the single most powerful moment in his life.

    Many things had changed over the years. You were one of those earth shattering experiences for him. Breaking open the egg that was the world. Showing him more than he would've thought possible. Four years ago, that thought that he'd fall in love with a stranger and get married to them just two years after would've seemed ridiculous. But here you two were.

    You worked as a travel writer. Going to exotic places. Trying new things. Meeting new people. While Tenya was living his dream. Fulfilling his brother's legacy as Ingenium. He never thought being alone could feel so hollow and bitter and cold. He'd never really felt lonely when he was alone, until you two made a home together. Tenya worried that home was too boring for you. Surely it had to be after seeing so much of the world. It gnawed at him. No matter how much reassurance you gave him that coming back home to him was always the best part of the trip.

    Tenya contemplated his tea as he poured in the water. Watching as a deep red color soaked out from the leaves. Only four more days, he kept reminding himself. Five more nights, and she'll be with you. But the mantra didn't help at all.

    Tenya went to his reading chair by the window. Yours was next to his, a table separating them. Your side was stacked with books. Even your chair had a few on it. Bookmarks spouted from a few. Tenya was sure you'd never finish them. But watching you try was endearing nonetheless. Your wedding picture sat on the table, along with a vase of your favourite flowers. He went every day to get one while you were away.

    He counted twenty three. Twenty three flowers. Twenty three days apart. But only four more until you were back in his arms. Until he could kiss you and hold you. Feel your warm skin against his own. They'd made you stay longer, so you'd have writing material through the first of the year. Didn't they know you had a husband and a dog to get back home to?

    That picture encapsulated the best day of his life. A face splitting grin on his own. You wore a goofy smile because he'd made you laugh. Tenya cried when he saw you come down the aisle. Though he desperately tried to hide them. You teased him later about that. He simply covered you with kisses.

    A small lump formed in Tenya's throat as he watched your dog slump sadly down onto the floor in front of your chair. He rolled his eyes up at Tenya and whined, his tail wagging only once. Things just weren't the same with you away. Tenya blew on his tea with a sigh.

    “I know boy, I miss her, too,” he said softly. Then took a sip. The hot tea did nothing to warm the cold that settled in him.

    Only four. More. Days.

    Tenya didn't sleep much after that. Dozing on the couch until the morning light woke him up. He was very stiff and chilled to the bone. Like someone had left a window open. Tenya searched the house, simply pushing the heater up when he found no cause for alarm.

    Tenya was very surprised as he let the dog out. The snow was ludicrously high. Five feet, give or take. He was willing to say give. Your poor pooch could barely get down to use the bathroom. Tenya just knew he was going to have to shovel a path for him.

    Was his ideal morning bundled up and shoveling snow? He was fairly sure that no body's was. But he diligently donned his his coat, hat, scarves, gloves, and snow boots. Being a good dog father and shoveling a path down into the yard.

    Tenya chuckled at the thought of you out here last year in the snow. A hair dry plugged into the side of the house. He yelled at you about the hazard, trying to argue that a hair dryer was not the most efficient way the clear snow. You started a snow ball fight after that. You'd both gone in drenched, and took a nice, hot, steamy shower together. His body tingled warmly at the thought, his face (and quite a few other places) feeling hot.

    After shoveling, it was shower time. Then he made himself and the dog breakfast (yes, he makes the dog's food because he is a very good doggy daddy). After was time to tend to all the chores he'd been putting off in the wake of his depression. This included wrapping your gifts. Tenya knew you'd be home for Christmas, but it'd been too painful to wrap them before. Between his loneliness and the excitement that bubbled in him at the thought of you coming home in a few days, he felt numb but jittery. One canceling the other out.

    And there was still so much to do.

    Ochaco and Izuku had accidentally, inadvertently invited themselves over for Christmas. They wanted to throw a party. And somehow Tenya had gotten wrapped up in it all. He hadn't been able to get a hold of you to try and talk them down. So he did the responsible thing and said he'd take care of it all. They gushed about what to bring and who to invite, he just had to take care of the house and making sure everything was perfect. He supposed this was a sort of coming home celebration for you, so it didn't annoy him quite as much.

    Tenya measured the dimensions each and every package he wrapped. Then he measured the wrapping paper. The process was tedious, but it ensured every piece of paper was used to the fullest. He pulled off the smallest pieces of tape that he possibly could, so he didn't waste the roll. Honestly, Tenya thought of how you might react as you opened them all. The excitement, the embarrassment, the sheer happiness that he wanted so much to bring you. He'd gone overboard, sure. But you were worth every penny. And all the burnt fingers. The thing he'd tried to make you did not go as well as he wanted. But Tenya just knew you were going to love it.

    After wrapping, he figured having a nice tree to put them under would help. He'd only gone out and bought one. Nothing was decorated. That was something you two usually did together. There wasn't a tinkle of a light anywhere to be seen. Though he knew Ochaco and Izuku expected the place to look as warm and cozy as it always did this time of year.

    The decorations were stored in a closet under the stairs. You had made it a giant Janga tower. Honestly, Tenya was a little scared to pull everything out. If he was crushed to death by decorations, no body would know for days. He studied your tower for a while. Thinking about when you'd put them in. You had struggled tremendously. He'd just chuckled. Tenya always thought everything you did was endearing. In it's own sort of way. In the love touched way.

    When Tenya was sure nothing was going to fall, he started to pull things out and organize them into piles. Garland, ornaments, outside lights, indoor lights, the tree angel, upstairs decorations, table runners, stockings – he sprinted through the house as he sorted. He planned to start upstairs, then work his way down.

    By the time he finished the upstairs it was early evening. He'd missed lunch, stopping only briefly to feed the dog. Now it was dinner time. He had no gumption to cook, though. So he heated up leftovers and sat at the table. Tenya stared at your empty chair as he ate. It was made up with a place mat, and a book, and your favourite mug.

    Three more days.

    It surprised him in the morning when there was a ring at the doorbell. Tenya had been up, working slowly at things around the house. He wasn't planning on company. Nor for Ochaco and Izuku to be standing behind the door. They had their own bags and piles of things in their arms. They grinned widely at him.

    “What a surprise,” Tenya said, then moved aside. “Come in out of the snow. I hope the roads weren't too bad.”

    They nodded and ducked in. “Thanks!”

    “Most of the snow is melted already,” Ochaco pouted. “Izuku and I built a snowman yesterday, but he was just a pile of mush things morning!”

    Izuku looked around, clearly surprised by the bare walls and shelves and tree. “Tenya, you haven't started decorating yet?”

    Tenya looked away ashamedly. Eyes wandering on their own to a picture of you. His guests' eyes followed. Ochaco's grin dropped.

    “Oh,” she said, putting her stuff down. “You're probably waiting for [Name], right?”

    “Tenya, if you didn't want to have the party, you could've said something,” Izuku insisted.

    Tenya had tried to tell them he didn't want to throw the party. Not at his house anyway. But they were so excited that they didn't listen. “It's fine. [Name] is coming home on Christmas. It'll be nice to have everyone here to welcome her back. I've just been putting it off. I didn't want to decorate alone.”

    Ochaco hugged him tightly. “I'm sorry, Tenya. We're here to help!”

    “Yeah!” Izuku looked disproportionately determined for the task. But Tenya was glad that his friend was as enthusiastic as ever. He needed the energy boost. “We're going to make it amazing for when [Name] comes home! You have nothing to worry about.”

    The pair ran off, doing what, Tenya didn't know. But he sure was glad to have friends like them. They helped him finish decorating downstairs. And he made them lunch. Soon everything was dripping with sparkling lights and garlands and glitter. Three stockings hung on hooks that suctioned to the wall, one for you, one for Tenya, and one for the dog. He hoped to add more stockings in the near future. But how was that going to happen when you were barely home together long enough?

    Ochaco and Izuku treated Iida to dinner that evening. Taking him to a restaurant down the way. They chatted quietly, mostly going over holiday plans.

    “We're going to my parents' on Christmas Eve,” Ochaco noted, looking over the menu. “Then Deku's mom and All Might are coming with us to the party Christmas day. I hope you don't mind.”

    Tenya shook his head. “No, it'll be nice to see them.”

    “Are you doing anything Christmas Eve? You could always come with us,” offered Izuku.

    “I'm going to my parents house. Tensei and his wife will be there.”

    Ochaco's eyes lit up. “I didn't know he got married!”

    “Not too long before I did. She's a lovely woman, and takes very good care of my brother. We're all very grateful to her.” Tensei smiled lightly, thinking about his brother's wedding. It'd been a very beautiful ceremony with many tears. He was best man, and dreaming about the day he was going to propose to you.

    They ate and talked and laughed. For just a little while, Tenya felt like himself. Izuku and Ochaco walked him back home. It was dark now, and cold bit through their coats.

    “Oh, before we go – I have invites for you to pass out at your agency.” Ochaco produced a stack of envelopes from her pocket. “Could you give them out next time you go in?”

    “I managed to get a few days off to prepare for [Name]'s arrival, but I can run them in tomorrow,” Tenya said, taking the stack.

    “Let us know when you're back,” said Izuku. “We'll help you decorate the outside.”

    Tenya shook his head. “You've already done so much, I couldn't ask for more.”

    “It's really no problem. We don't mind helping.”

    “Very well, then.” Tenya nodded. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

    As Tenya shut himself in for the night he sighed, leaning his head back against the door.

    Just two more days.

    Tenya set off bright and early the next morning. The air was still frosty and the sky looked like it wanted to flood the ground with more white. He was going to try and make this trip quick. He'd been getting increasingly pitying looks. He didn't want to hang around long, to see their eyes boring holes in him.

    He hesitated at the doors, watching as his breath floated up to the sky. Even with gloves on, it felt like the cold seeped through from the door handle. Tenya didn't bother going to his office. He stopped at the front desk. The woman there smiled up at him.

    “Good morning, Mr. Ingenium,” she greeted. “How can I help you?”

    “I need you to distribute these to all of the staff and heroes,” he said, pulling a large stack of envelopes from his coat. He'd spent the entire night trying to remember all of the staff at his agency.

    “Can do.” She took the envelopes. But she didn't shift her gaze. “You look tired, sir. Are you doing okay?”

    “There's a lot to do, is all. My wife will be home in a few days.” Tenya cleaned his glasses, looking for an excuse to break eye contact.

    “Right,” she bit curtly. “Your wife.”

    Tenya leaned on the counter, hoping to charm her with a smile. He was far too tired for this today. He was going to have to hire a new secretary sometime soon. “Izumi, it would mean a lot if you could pass these out to everyone. I'd be very grateful.”

    The woman softened. “Anything you want, sir.”

    He nodded. “Thank you.”

    Tenya left swiftly, before he had to endure anymore one sided flirting. The distaste his secretary expressed for his wife got tiresome. Along with her not-so-subtle hints for him to have an affair with her. He had more important things to worry about. Like making sure you came home to a magical display.

    “Izuku,” he started, phone to his ear as he walked down the road. “I just left I should be home....soon....”

    “Okay Tenya!” Izuku cheered from the other side. Then there was a long pause. “Tenya?”

    But the man was distracted by the window he was passing. “I'll call you back when I get to the house.”

    “Wait, is something wro –”

    Tenya hung up, staring at the window display. It was perfect. It was just what he was looking for to top off the season. You were going to love it. He rushed in, demanding the display in the window. He wasn't usually the type. But he was just too excited. The clerks gently packaged it, tying neat bows around the box. Tenya had to stop himself from sprinting full force down the road.

    He rushed a message to Izuku when he got home. But there was no hope of sitting still for him. By the time Ochaco and Izuku got there, he'd already had half the outside decorated. He was on the roof, hooking up the lights. He waved down at them.

    Ochaco floated up the rest of the boxes for the roof. Izuku nearly floated away as he tried to help finish the lights. Tenya caught him and hauled him down. It felt like they were back in UA as students with the ensuing chaos.

    Tenya treated the pair to a home made dinner. They had a few drinks and some laughs. But honestly, he just wanted to chug through the next few days. Today was the twenty third. Two more days to Christmas. Two more days to you coming home.

    The trio examined their handy work when the sun went down. The house glowed and twinkled. It really did look like a winter wonderland. Tenya just knew you were going to love it. He was looking forward to seeing your face as you watched the display they made.

    Just a few more days.

    The morning of the twenty fourth was a lazy one. He didn't want to get out of bed. Tenya wanted to lay there until the following night. When you'd be there with him. To finally warm the thorough chill that hadn't left him in days.

    But eventually he pulled himself up, going to the vase in the living room.

    “Twenty five,” he muttered, slipping a flower in. “Twenty six....you'll have a very big bouquet this time, [Name].”

    Tenya set to breakfast. He'd lost all his fire from yesterday. He was a tired shell now. He was so sure you were going to love what he found for you. But now one, long agonizing day laid ahead of him. The house was decorated, inside and out. Presents were wrapped. The tree was ready. Filled to the brim with perfectly packaged gifts, awaiting your arrival.

    Tomorrow would be the party. You'd arrive after dark, hopefully with people still around to greet you. You wouldn't have to worry about a thing. Ochaco and Izuku were going to take care of all the other little details. All of the invites read a potluck and BYOB. In the meantime, he had to wait the day out. The only thing he had to look forward to distract him was seeing his family later that evening.

    Christmas morning was to be lonely. Then, by three, the house would start filling up. By eight, you should be walking up the front entrance. By 8:01, you'd be in his arms and smothered in kisses. With any luck, you'd be making love by midnight.

    Tenya went out and shoveled snow again. More than two feet had fallen in the night. The more snow that fell, the more he worried the weather was going to be too rough for your plane. He needed you, sooner rather than later preferably.

    The day seemed to crawl away. Only a few minutes had passed every time he glanced at the clock. Had it always been so difficult to entertain himself? He'd already showered, made lunch, brushed snow meticulously from the front porch and back deck. He uncovered all of the decorations he'd put up the day before.

    He was impatient by the time he had to leave to see his family. Even the ride there drove him crazy. The road seemed to stretch. The cars squeezing from every side. Would the tedium ever cease?

    As the evening with his family began, he discovered it would not. Even as he laughed with his parents and brother, as he listened to stories and shared a few. His eyes never left his watch for long. It didn't go unnoticed, but it was left unmentioned. Just a look exchanged around him.

    They knew, of course. That he counted down every second until he'd see you again. The light and fire you brought into his life was wonderful to see. But how they wished you didn't leave so much.

    Tenya went to bed when he got home. But sleep didn't come. Not for a very long time. He tried to force himself asleep, just a single thought leaping in his head.

    One. More. Night.

    A new tickle of joy danced in his chest as he realized the day. Christmas. You were going to be home. He was going to be counting down the hours until he saw you.

    Tenya zipped through his morning. Shoveling the fresh few inches of snow. Hand making the dog's food for the next week. Making breakfast for himself, showering, and pulling out the outfit you'd picked over video call a week ago. Just a red sweater with stripes and snowflakes and charcoal grey slacks. He spent time cleaning, making sure every inch was dusted.

    He had his fire back – until he checked his phone just after lunch.

[NAME] (Wife)

My plane is being delayed. I won't be home until tomorrow. I'm so sorry, my love, I wanted to be home for Christmas. So, very much....

    Tenya felt a little bit of himself break. He slumped in his reading chair, phone discarded on the table. He stared blankly ahead of him. His worst fear had come true. One more day had turned into two. And with this snow, two could easily turn into three or four.

    Ochaco and Izuku came not too long after. They knocked on the door, rang the door bell. The dog barked. Eventually they tried the handle, letting themselves in. They exchanged a worried look as they spied their friend. They could see the hollowness of his eyes.

    “Tenya...?” Ochaco whispered.

    “She's not coming,” he muttered numbly.

    Izuku put a hand on Tenya's shoulder. “What do you mean?”

    “[Name]'s flight – it's been delayed. She won't be home until tomorrow....” Tenya could barely scrap his eyes to his phone. He didn't want to look at it. To see anything else that might ruin him.

    “But she'll be home, at least.”

    “You don't understand. You two have each other. Tensei will be spending the holiday with his wife. And I have her. If [Name] isn't here....”

    Izuku and Ochaco glanced at each other again.

    “We'll still have a good time, Tenya,” Ochaco said, trying to cheer him up.

    “Yeah, people will start to be here soon! You won't even know she's missing!” Then Izuku began to panic. “Not that we don't want her here. But maybe getting your mind off of her will help. Not that you shouldn't miss your wife on a holiday but –”

    Tenya chuckled. At least something was normal. Izuku eased some at the sound. He and Ochaco set up the kitchen, while Tenya put away anything he didn't want broken. You never knew if someone was going to get rowdy.

    As the first people showed up, the booze flooded in. Tenya had only meant to have one. But he was having a self-pity streak. One became two, two became three. Different Christmas mixes that people brought, some made right in his kitchen; homemade egg nogs, and Christmas cocktails, holiday ciders. He claimed they were just to try. Normally, he'd be following people around. Putting down coasters, ensuring that they didn't slosh on the couch, making sure no one was scuffing up the floors. But Izuku was already doing a pretty good job of that. Probably to make sure Tenya didn't have to worry. But it left him too idle.

    Tenya chatted with his co-workers as they came. They complimented his house, saying they wouldn't have expected anything else from an Iida. He went around, greeting everyone. Thanking each person for coming. Each drink numbing just slightly more. He spent a good deal of time talking to Izuku's mom and All Might.

    He was caught in the middle of an inescapable conversation with his insufferable secretary when Izuku came to tap him on the shoulder. His friend pointed towards the entrance to your house. Tenya's eyes followed his arm, going wide at what they found. They swept to the clock on the wall – it only read 5:23. In alarm, he triple checked what he was reading, to be sure he was right. With a puff from his quirk, Tenya launched himself.

    You screamed as he tackled you. He kept you upright, making you didn't fall. Tenya smooshed your face with too many kisses to keep up with. He squeezed you tightly in his arms. You could smell the liquor on him. Since when did he drink? You hoped this wasn't the start of a bad habit.

    “[Name]! You're here!” he exclaimed in disbelief. He held you at arm's length, looking you up and down just to be sure you were real.

    You laughed, nodding. “Yeah!”

    “But your plane –”

    “I – uh – I lied.” You glanced away from him, your face hot. “My flight was actually bumped up. I wanted to surprise you. I wasn't expecting you to get stupid drunk.”

    Tenya sunk to the floor, and pulled you into his lap. He was so cute with his goofy grin and the pink dusting on his cheeks. He rubbed his cheek against yours. Your guests chuckled at the sight. You pulled him in for a long, hard kiss. So glad to finally have him in your arms. You could feel every bit of his body against yours. You had to calm his hands as they roamed freely over your body. They were dipping into places that shouldn't be caressed in public.

    Finally – no more counting the days.

    No more nights between you.

    No more hours to wait.

    You two were together. And it was the sweetest feeling in the world.

    “Why wouldn't I have been upset by the delay?” he rambled. “I've missed you, and I didn't want to think of another day without you here. I needed a little boost. Drinking was perhaps not the best choice.”

    Tenya clung to you all night, never letting you out of his sight. Seeing everyone was lovely. You really couldn't have asked for a better homecoming. The lights he'd put up outside were spectacular. And the warm cozy air your home had taken on was supernatural. Or maybe it was just because you were glad to be home.

    It was nearly midnight when everybody finally left. Ochaco and Izuku had stayed to help you clean. Tenya wouldn't let you go long enough to do anything. You were about to force him upstairs when he stumbled over to the tree.

    “No, no, no – you have to open this. While it's still Christmas. Please,” Tenya pouted, and forced a little black box with a shimmering silver lid into your hand. The childish pout on his face was adorable, but he really should've been getting to bed.

    “Tenya –”

    “Open it.”

    You eyed him suspiciously, but planted yourself on the couch. He adhered himself to your side. He held you closely, head on your shoulder. A red ribbon was tied lovingly around the box. It was always too beautiful to unwrap. You had a suspicion Tenya hadn't done this himself. He packaged things neatly, but aesthetics weren't his forte.

    You pulled the ribbon, then peered into the box. You looked at him, then in the box, then back again.

    “You did not go out and spend a fortune,” you scolded.

    Tenya shrugged. “You deserve the world.”

    “Tenya!” But you couldn't deny it was beautiful.

    It was simple, with a thin silver chain. Hanging from the end was a pendant. It had your birth stone in set on the part where the chain went through. And there was immaculate scroll work around the edges. Tenya took it briefly from your hands, the pressed the sides.

    The front popped open. A lump pressed in your throat. A miniature of your wedding photo was nestled inside the frame. Tenya turned it over, revealing both of your initials along with your wedding date on the back.

    “I left the other half open, for when we have a family of our own,” he muttered drowsily. “I love you more than the world. I'm very happy you're finally home. I'd be very happy if you didn't have to leave again.”

    “I love this. I love you,” you murmured in reply, then turned your head to kiss him.

    You put the locket back in the box, then helped him stand. You hauled Tenya upstairs, and got him changed. He insisted on brushing his teeth, even though he coud barely stand up right. The necklace took up a home on your night stand. You were going to wear this every day that you could. It was your new favourite piece of jewelry.

    Once you were settled into bed, he immediately took you in him arms. He hummed in content.

    “How would you feel about being a secretary?” Tenya slurred, nuzzling his nose into the back of your neck. “I'm going to need a new one soon. Mine is gonna get fired.”

    You sighed. “I actually wanted to talk to about that. I wanted to wait until you were sober. But – I'm going to quit my job. That way I can be home with you. If we want a family....I'm also tired of spending so much time away from you. You can't imagine how lonely the world is without you with me to see it.”

    Tenya sighed. “I want your....baabbeeezzz...”

    You chuckled. “Tenya? - Love?”

    A light snoring told you he was out cold. You smiled to yourself as he snuggled closer to you. You relaxed into him. You'd been waiting for this for ages. Or, it felt like ages anyway. You didn't want to be away from him anymore. Coming home to the one you love? It was amazing. But getting to stay home with them? That was the best Christmas gift you could ask for.

~

[redpandaramblings]

Laundry Day. Sero x F!reader

Content warning- Mature humor, Mineta mention, sexual situations, heavy petting.

 “Come on!  It would be so much fun!”  Mina was bouncing on her heels, practically vibrating with excited energy as she tried to convince the group to go along with her scheme.

“So let me get this right.” Bakugo sighed.  “You want to do this fucking thrift store scronging thing for Christmas?”

“Yep!”  Mina said.  “Let’s be real, none of us have a lot of money this year, and this will be a way to have a lot of fun on a budget!  It’s simple.  Everyone finds the weirdest or most inappropriate thing they can buy for five bucks or less, and then we have a white elephant party on Christmas Eve!”

“White Elephant?” Kirishima asks, tilting his head.

Kaminari nods, jumping in.  “Yeah man!  Means people take turns picking gifts out of a pile.  Or they have the chance to steal a gift someone else already opened.  Basically, don’t go picking stuff thinking it will go to a specific person.”

“Is this going to be just us?  Or are we inviting everyone?  Because I live in curious fear of whatever Mineta would manage to dig up.”  You asked from where you were lounging.

Mina blanched while Denki cackled in delight.

“Oh god, we have to invite everyone now!  Imagine Midoria’s face!  Imagine Iida’s!”

“It’s settled!  Party at Bakubro’s!” Kiri cheered.

“Oi shitty hair! Don’t fucking invite everyone over to my place!”

“But you make the best curry!  Please?  For your bestest friends in the whole wide world?”

“Fuck no!”

“Pleeeeaaaase?”  Kiri pleaded.

“NO!”

Kirishima looked around the squad, communicating silently as everyone nodded.  As a collective force, you all turned your best puppy eyes at Bakugo.  He squirmed, firmly trying to look away from all of you.  You all started fake whimpering and whining.  You knew you had won when Katsuki’s lips briefly twitched into a smile.

“Alright!  Alright!  Now stop it, you fucking extras!”

“Three cheers for Bakubro!” Sero exclaimed.

The weeks flew by and before you knew it, the party was upon you.  Katsuki had grumbled and bitched the whole time, and yet now was gazing with pride at the absolute spread he had spent the last two days cooking.  Everyone had showed up, had gorged themselves, and were now in the process of opening presents.  There had been a couple weird mugs, a lamp made out of a deer leg, and Iida had had the misfortune of opening the gift Mineta had brought.  Everyone stared in horrified awe at the three foot long, hot pink dildo.

“Are those teeth marks on it?”

“Yep, teeth marks.”

“Mineta, where the hell did you find this thing?”

“I swear I got it at a thrift store!  The price tag is still on the base, look!”

“Yep.  That’s a price tag.”

“I’m not drunk enough for this.”

“I wanna bite it.”

“Y/N!  NO!”

There was a lot of laughter and teasing as the evening continued, gifts continuing to be claimed or stolen at a slow pace.  Just about everyone after Iida had tried to steal ownership of the horror dong as it had been nicknamed.  Denki had just stolen it from you, so you had to pick a new gift.  You pointed toward a box that was rather conspicuously wrapped entirely in tape.

“Okay, someone toss me whatever the hell Sero got.”

The black haired man gave a little fist pump as he snagged the box, walking over to sit next to you as he handed the box over.  He casually pressed against your side and slung an arm around your shoulders.  “Amiga, I’m honored!  You’re going to love it!”

“Yeah, I’m going to love it if I can ever get into it.”  You began the process of slowly unwrapping the absurd amount of tape.  “Seriously, anybody got a knife?”

A chorus of “no”s replied, no one actually bothering to look for one.

You gave a dramatic groan.  “You’re all awful and I hate each and every one of you.”

Hanta gasped and placed a hand over his heart.  “Even me, Querida?”

“Especially you, you office supply elbowed freak.”  You replied, sticking your tongue out at him even as you snuggled more comfortably into his side.

After a couple more minutes of dramatic whining and tape unwrapping, you finally got the box open, only to reveal the gaudiest t-shirt you had ever seen.  It was a nauseating shade of Pepto Bismol pink.  There was glitter.  And oh god, what the thing said.  You started cackling.  You held it up for everyone to see, discovering as you did so that this had to be the largest shirt you had seen in your life.

“Ooo, nice one Hanta, that’s really awful!”

“Someone steal this from me, please!”

“No way, Y/N!  It’s the perfect addition to your wardrobe!”

“Hermosa! I’m wounded you would get rid of my gift right after opening it.”

“Look at this thing!  Fatgum would swim in it!”

You made a show of grumbling, but you stowed the shirt back in its box and enjoyed the rest of your evening with your friends.  When you got home quite late that evening, you shoved the box into the back of your closet and didn’t think about it again until almost a year later.

~~~

Today had been the day from hell.  You muttered curses to yourself as you stomped down the hallway to your apartment.  Work had been harder than usual, the kind of day that made you grateful to make the long commute back home.  So of course today would be the day that the subway would be taken over by a villain who had a sludge quirk.  Asshole had flooded the cars with the thick, foul smelling, viscous ooze that reminded you of things unmentionable.  You and the other passengers had had to scramble to make sure no one ended up in over their head.  Lucky everyone had been saved.  Unluckily you and many others, you had spent the better part of two hours standing shoulder deep in the muck.  It was in your hair.  It had soaked your clothes.  It was in your underwear.  And the icing on the cake was of course it was your friends and neighbors who had rescued you.  Of course your crush had seen you when you looked like you had taken up competitive septic tank diving.  

It took you three tries before your key actually got in the lock.  You shuffled into your apartment and straight for the bathroom.  Grimacing as you peeled your clothing off, you unceremoniously chucked everything into the hamper before stepping into the shower and turning the water as hot as it would go.  You stayed in the shower for over an hour scrubbing and rescrubbing every inch of you.  With great reluctance, you eventually stepped out of the shower, reaching for a towel.  You lazily dried yourself off as you walked into the bedroom, intent on putting on pajamas and pretending you didn’t exist for the next several hours.  

You opened your underwear drawer only to be filled with a deep sense of dread.  Empty.  Your pajama drawer? One pair of extreme booty shorts that say “creepy” on the butt.  Your t-shirt drawer?  Empty.  Your closet?  Empty.  Frustrated tears threatened to slip down your cheeks as you realized that the shorts were the only clean item of clothing in your apartment.  You had been meaning to do laundry for a while, but you hadn’t realized that it had gotten this bad.  As much as you hated to, you were going to have to do your laundry tonight.  You put the shorts in and  looked through your closet again, desperate enough to find a sheet to try and fashion into a toga when you spotted a rather bedraggled tape covered box.  You hadn’t thought about your ridiculous white elephant gift in several months, but now?  Well, it technically was a shirt.  It certainly would cover you better than an improvised sheet toga.  Before you could think twice about it, you opened the box, grabbed the shirt, and slipped it on.

The shirt swam on you, going past your butt.  The color was bad, and you winced at the image on the front.  But, you were now decent enough to venture down to the building’s shared laundry room.  So, after grabbing your hamper, detergent, and quarter jar; you did just that.

You hummed the Mission Impossible theme to yourself as you descended the stairwell to the ground floor.  Most of your friends lived on this level, but chances were they were fast asleep at this time of night.  You were glad of that as you hurried along.  You really didn’t want to run into anyone wearing your current getup.  It took several minutes to sort your laundry into a few machines and get everything started.  You were leaning against the last machine in the line, debating going back to your place or just staying here when you heard something that made you freeze.  Upbeat whistling that was growing closer each second.  You knew that whistle You did not want to see the owner of that whistle right now.  You had already been embarrassed in front of crush today, you really didn’t need him showing up for round two.  You were debating how quickly you could scramble into a dryer to hide when Sero Hanta entered the room.  

He briefly glanced your way.  “Hey Y/N!  I figured I might see you here.  I’ll admit I’ve seen some shit, and that was gross even by my standards.  I wanted to ask how you were doing.  Make sure you weren’t injured or any…”. He trailed off when he finally registered what exactly you were wearing.  His grin turned positively feral as he set his own laundry bag to the side.

“My, my, my.”  Sero gave a rumbling chuckle.  “Whatever do we have here?”  Sero’s eyes could sweep up and down your body.  His signature grin grew wider as his gaze lingered on your t-shirt clad chest.  

You crossed your arms, attempting to hide the gigantic image of a lime green, glittery, prancing unicorn proclaiming “I’m horny!”  What were the odds that someone else would be washing their clothes at two in the morning?  Apparently changes were pretty damn high, you thought as you leveled a half hearted glare at your friend and neighbor.  

“It’s laundry day, Hanta, don’t read into it.”

“But Hermosa!  How can I not?  The first time I see mi corazón wearing the gift I so painstakingly chose for her?”  He waggled his eyebrows as his trademark teasing grin spread over his face.

You blushed, turning your head to the side and refusing to look at him.

“You’re full of crap, Cellophane.  It’s been a really shitty day, and this was literally my only thing to wear.”

Sero nodded and hummed, turning to put his own laundry in the machines.  “Si, si.  It was a rather difficult time, it looked like.  And you okay though?  Not injured?  I didn’t get a chance to catch up with you after the fight was over.”

You groaned, tilting your head back and covering your face with your hands. “I’m afraid I got a nasty case of extreme embarrassment and took a heavy blow to my pride.  Of course you fuckers had to be the heros on duty for that whole debacle.”

Hanta looks at you seriously as shoves disorganized armfuls of laundry into the nearest machine.  “I’d rather it be me saving you than anybody else, Querida.”

You let your hands fall to your side with a disgruntled sigh.  “Why?  So you can witness all the embarrassing situations you can blackmail me with?”

“Well now that you mention it, yes.”  Sero dumped an obscene amount of soap into the washer before turning it on.  “However,” he purred in a sinful voice that startled you.  He stalked toward you like a hungry jaguar.  He stalked toward you like a hungry jaguar.  Squeaking, you inched away from him until the back of your legs were pressed firmly against the cold metal of the washing machine. Hanta leaned over your retreating frame, placing an arm on either side of you, caging you in.  “Querida mia, I want to always be able to make sure you are safe.”

You placed your hands on his chest, halfheartedly trying to shove him away.

“That’s very touching.  Now get out of my personal space.”

 “But Querida,”  Sero murmured, his voice going low and sensual, moving closer until your hips pressed against each other.  “There’s nowhere I’d rather be than your personal space.  Si supieras las cosas que quiero hacerte...”

With him so close, there was nothing you could do to disguise the shiver that ran through you at his words.  

“Oh?  What’s this?”  Sero said.  His large hands traveled to your hips, his long fingers finding their way under the hem of your shirt to tantalizingly stroke your skin.  He leaned forward, voice turning to a growl with his mouth next to your ear.  “Hermosa likes me speaking Español, hmm?”

You bite your lip before giving in and nodding.

“Well, in that case…  Taco supreme!”

The fingers that had been stroking your skin suddenly became deadly, horrible tickle weapons; digging into your sides and moving rapidly.  You shrieked with surprised laughter, thrashing from side to side as you tried to escape.  However, Hanta’s large frame and firm hips kept you pinned against the washing machine as his traitorous fingers continued their assault.  He continues to tease in between his own laughter.  “Nachos grande!  Cinnamon Twists!  Quiero Taco Bell!”

Tears are streaming down your cheeks as you wheeze and slap at his chest.  “Stop!  Stop!  You horrible man!”  He gets in a few more tickles before he does stop, wrapping his arms around you, pulling into a tight hug as you both take a few moments to pant and calm your laughter.  He nuzzles your neck before asking softly, “Feel better?”

You nod, just enjoying his warm body wrapped around you.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”  Your voice just as soft as his, one of your hands finds its way up to stroke his hair.

“I’d really like to kiss you right now.”

“Please.”  You whisper softly, tugging at his hair just enough to encourage him to move his head back.  Your lips find each other, cautious and gentle at first.  Then, Hanta nips at your lower lip, and you let your mouth fall open with a whimper.  The kiss is hunger and passion, and heat.  Tongues wrestling, teeth lightly biting and teasing each other as hands roam and grope.  Sero’s hands find the back of your thighs and soon he’s lifting you, setting you down on the edge of the washing machine.  He presses himself between your spread legs, bucking against you, and you can feel his hard length teasing you through your clothes.

“Wanted this so long.  You have no idea how long.  Y entonces hoy estaba tan preocupado por ti.  Cuando vi que estabas en peligro, quise matar a ese villano y encerrarte donde nunca más estarías en peligro.”

“Me too.  Wanted this so long, but didn’t think you felt the same.  Now get back here and kiss me like you mean it!”

He happily complied, his lips fitting over yours as if they had been made to be placed together.  The kisses and touches didn’t stay innocent long, his hands finding your breasts through your shirt, teasing and pulling at your nipples.  One of your hands traveled down to stroke the obvious bulge that was rutting against you.  Between his thrusting and the vibrations of the machine you were sitting on, your shorts were becoming visibly soaked.  His fingers found their way up a leg hole and he moaned sinfully when he found there weren't any undergarments keeping his touch from your soaking folds.  It was your turn to smirk, pulling away from his kisses to whisper in his ear.

“I told you, Darling.  Laundry day.”

“Amore, you’re going to be the death of me.”  He groans, shoving his face into your cleavage as he slips a finger into you.

You laugh breathlessly.  “You better not die on me, Hanta.  What I have in mind will be much less fun if you’re dead.”

“HOLY FUCK!”  Shouted a very recognizable voice from the doorway.  Your groan was not from pleasure as you rested your head on Sero’s shoulder.

“Piss off, Denki.”

“Hanta’s finally getting some honey!  Score man!”

“What’s going on?” Mina’s sleep heavy voice drifted in from the hallway.

“Y/n and Sero are going to Pound Town in the Laundry Room!”

“Denki, en el nombre de Dios, I will kill you if you don’t back out of that doorway and let me finish what I started.”

Bakugo’s voice rang down the hall “No fucking in the goddamn Laundryroom!”

Kiri’s voice soon followed “Take it easy, Tsuki!  They can clean up when they’re done!  Get some guys!  You need condoms?”

Sero sighed deeply, pulling his hand out of your pants as your shoulders shook from silent laughter.  “I think, Hermosa, we can agree no fucking in front of the friend group?”

You nodded, laughing as you jumped down from your washing machine perch. “Not until the third date at least.”

Sero moaned softly, not expecting the way that statement had made his cock twitch.  Acting quickly, he scooped you up, and threw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.  “My room.  Now.”

“Ooo, Caveman Hanta.  Sexy.”

Denki jumped to the side to let Sero pass, calling after you “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t!”

You called back “Well, I’m going to do Hanta, so what does that say about you?”

Sero’s hand came down on your bottom with a firm smack as he continued down the hallway and around the corner, taking you two toward his apartment and out of sight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spanish guide- 

Amiga- Friend

Querida- Darling

Hermosa- Beautiful

Querida mia- My darling.

 Si supieras las cosas que quiero hacerte- If you knew the things that I want to do to you

Y entonces hoy estaba tan preocupado por ti.  Cuando vi que estabas en peligro, quise matar a ese villano y encerrarte donde nunca más estarías en peligro.-  And then today I was so worried about you. When I saw that you were in danger, I wanted to kill that villain and lock you up where you would never be in danger again.

Hey guys!  Pan here, hope you enjoyed it.  It’s been quite a while since I’ve put any of my fanfic out there, so please be gentle with me.  I just used Google translate for the Spanish, so I’m sure some of it is very wrong.  If you have corrections, please feel free to send them my way!  Also, if you see any triggers that need tagging please let me know.  I also accept constructive criticism, and appreciate having spelling and grammar mistakes pointed out.  Also want to take the chance to answer this question ahead of time-

“The fuck is up with the dildo?!?!”

The Dildo of Doom is based on real events.  That actually happened.  One of my former sorority sisters found the dong of death at a thrift store.  It did indeed have teeth marks on it.  Human teeth marks, I should clarify.  Truth is stranger than fiction.

I have to thank @reinawritesbnha for helping me edit some clunky sections.  If you aren’t already familiar with her work, please check her out!

Taglist- @reinawritesbnha @nkjktk

[ohayohimawari]

And it was Love at First Brawl

A drabble written for Day 7 of @kakaobiweek Violet | Music | Fantasy

This is another humorous piece appropriate for teen-and-up readers and set in a modern AU.

This drabble is heavily inspired by my good friend @azuzeldraws incredible art series, Metal Konoha, and I dedicate this chapter to her. Thank you, Zu, for letting us use your amazing work to promote this event!

And it was Love at First Brawl

It was one of those Friday nights when Kakashi left the restaurant with a stomach full of his favorite supper and an empty soul after dining alone.

Though the day neared its end, Konoha’s club district was just beginning to wake. The streets were full of jaywalkers, inexperienced parallel-parkers, and the night owl versions of early birds lined up in boisterous queues waiting for the bars to open.

Kakashi felt entirely out of place and maybe almost too old for this scene while he dutifully waited at the corner for the pedestrian crossing light to signal his turn. He stepped into the crosswalk once it was safe, and he saw a man on the opposite side, jogging towards the intersection to cross before the light changed.

Kakashi stopped in his tracks in the middle of the street, entirely entranced.

He watched the individual blades of the other man’s black, unruly hair as they bounced with each step. He wore a t-shirt that fitted him like he was born to wear it and a healthy glow on every inch of exposed skin. His sparkling eyes met Kakashi’s as he trotted past him on the street and offered a greeting through a roguish grin. “Hey.”

And that was all it took.

Being a classic lit teacher, he had a multitude of words at his disposal. That man was vivacity personified, and Kakashi turned on his heel, following him with his eyes. The dark-haired man ran right up to the door of the seediest bar on the street and gleefully skipped up the stairs. He exchanged laughter and a handshake with the bouncer and disappeared inside.

The pedestrian light flashed red, alerting Kakashi that he still stood in the middle of the street. His feet moved of their own accord, and a moment later, his brain agreed with their plan. He retraced his steps, abandoning his intention to go home, knowing he would abandon much more than that for a chance to meet the stranger that charmed him.

As driven as he was, Kakashi hesitated for a moment outside of the club, assessing it. The sidewalk in front of it was littered with empty bottles and cigarette butts, and two people appeared to be doing something he didn’t want to interrupt in the shadows of the alley next to it. Then, he assessed himself.

He was dressed more casually than usual, out for a date with nobody but him, wearing a t-shirt that featured a band called ROOT. He had no idea who they were, or why they used all capital letters, but his students chose it from the trendy store Boiling Subject as a gift for him, and it was comfortable after wearing a tie all day. Deciding that his attire was appropriate for the venue, Kakashi walked up the stairs that led to the door, where he was stopped by the same menacing bouncer that laughed only moments before.

“You sure you wanna do this?” The man growled through scarred lips.

“Pretty sure,” Kakashi replied, though his confidence wavered.

“We don’t want any trouble.” The man’s muscles bulged in a show of strength as he folded his arms across his chest.

“I don’t want to bring any,” Kakashi replied, honestly.

“Let him in, Ibiki.” A pony-tailed bartender wearing a high-cut shirt that showed more cleavage than fabric chastised the bouncer.

“Whatever you say, Anko,” Ibiki moved aside to allow Kakashi into the bar.

As foreboding as the exchange was, it caught the attention of the handsome dark-haired stranger who stood at the bar. Bolstered, Kakashi stood in the space next to him.

“What can I getcha, hon?” Anko tossed a stained cardboard coaster onto the bar in front of him.

“A beer,” Kakashi ordered as if he’d never been to a pub before, too nervous to recall his favorite drink.

Anko retrieved a bottle from the cooler behind her while Kakashi withdrew a few bills from his wallet. Then, he wrapped his hand around the bottle of Lone Ninja Star she offered after opening it with her teeth.

Kakashi ignored how unhygienic it was to take a sip from the bottle as he did it, glancing around the bar, looking everywhere but at the man that led him there. It was half-full of patrons in various stages of sobriety and had a stage all set up and waiting for a band to perform. When he finished noting where all the emergency exits were, the most incredible thing happened.

“Cheers,” Mr. Vivacity said, bringing their beer bottles together in a toast.

“Cheers,” Kakashi replied, then pulled a long swig from the bottle, savoring the moment that the man of his dreams had spoken first.

“So, uh,” the dark-haired man glanced down at Kakashi’s shirt, and a chuckle bubbled out of him, “you like this band too?” He tilted his head in the direction of the stage.

“Um, yeah," Kakashi stammered, "I mean, yes. Yes, I do."

"Cool," Mr. Vivacity replied with a smile that made Kakashi's knees buckle. "Which of their CDs is your favorite?"

Kakashi's quick mind kicked into gear on the spot. If the band had multiple releases, then the safest answer would be, "I think their first one."

"Really?" The dark-haired man appeared pleasantly surprised. "So, you're an old-school fan, huh?"

“Yep, I guess I am,” Kakashi laughed a little awkwardly and brought his beer back to his lips.

“I think my favorite track on that one is, Kill Me With Your Kekkei Genkai,” Mr. Vivacity nodded, thinking aloud, and Kakashi felt his eyes bulge, worried that he might not be able to keep up the facade. But then he was spared when the other man suddenly changed the subject. “By the way, my name is—”

“Crybaby Tobi, you finally made it!” A man with slicked blonde hair and wearing a shirt with religious cult symbols literally crashed into their conversation, spilling his beer on Kakashi’s shirt.

The unwelcome interruption glanced at him. “My bad,” he drawled unapologetically, looking down at the soiled shirt. Then, his eyes shot up to meet Kakashi’s.

“WHOA! You’ve got balls, man!”

“Thank you,” Kakashi decided to take it as a compliment, turning towards the bar to grab a few napkins. He blotted at his shirt when Anko shouted to him that there was a hot air dryer in the men’s room, and, as much as Kakashi didn’t want to walk away from Mr. Crybaby before he could learn his real name, he didn’t want to stand there like an idiot in a wet ROOT t-shirt.

By the time he exited the bathroom, a makeshift merchandise table had appeared near it, so he bee-lined to it to learn more about the band to contribute to a conversation about them. At least, now he knew the band’s name was ANBU, and he wondered what was up with bands using all capital letters.

He had barely begun to browse the tracklist on the back of one of the CDs when the purple-haired, facial-pierced woman at the table asked, “You gonna buy that?”

Something about her tone made Kakashi feel obligated to pull out his wallet, and he handed over a twenty-dollar bill.

“I don’t have change for that,” she deadpanned, bored, and sarcastic.

Suddenly, the bar erupted with shouting, so Kakashi quickly grabbed a second CD to even out the exchange and hurried back to the bar and Mr. Vivacity, or Crybaby, or whoever he was.

Then, his heart sank when he saw that the other man wasn’t there anymore.

Kakashi stood in front of the stage feeling like the biggest fish out of water when the club’s sound system screamed into life with the ear-splitting sound of feedback through the amps. Kakashi covered his ears and spun around in time to catch the band taking their positions onstage.

The singer set down a six-pack next to his mic and yanked one can of beer free from it. He held it sideways in his hand, pulled out a kunai, and stabbed it in the middle before bringing the punctured hole to his mouth.

“Tenzō! Tenzō! Tenzō!” The crowd chanted while he shotgunned the beer and cheered when he crushed the empty can against his head. He grabbed the microphone in front of him when his large, almond eyes made bigger by copious amounts of black eyeliner landed on Kakashi.

“What the fu —” He roared, launching himself off the stage, tackling Kakashi to the ground.

Even though he was a classic lit teacher, Kakashi held his own for a long time in a fight against a bar full of punks until he took one bottle to the head too many and woke up in the alley next to the bar.

“Hey,” Kakashi winced as he turned his head to see who spoke to him, already recognizing that voice and feeling a little happier than concussed. “You okay?”

“I think so,” Kakashi muttered, “thanks, Mr. Crybaby.”

“It’s Obito,” the other man laughed, “and you’re welcome, Mr. Metalhead.”

“I didn’t fool you for a second, did I?” Kakashi licked at his fattened, split bottom lip, hoping he looked like he deserved sympathy. “I’m Kakashi, by the way.”

Obito snickered and pressed a bag of ice against Kakashi’s head. “I figured you didn’t quite know what you walked into, wearing a ROOT t-shirt to an ANBU gig.”

“What was that all about?”

“Tenzō used to be the drummer for that band, but he had a big blow-up with their manager, Danzō, so he quit and formed his own band. There’s a lot of bad blood there.”

Kakashi looked down, embarrassed, not knowing what to say and feeling like a total idiot.

“Why did you come to the bar?” Obito asked quietly.

Kakashi sighed through his nose. If he learned anything that night, it was that honesty probably came with less violence. “You.”

“Me?” Obito asked, even more timidly.

“Yeah,” Kakashi glanced up at him. “You passed me on the street, and, I… I just had to meet you,” he felt a little like a weirdo admitting it out loud, but he was past the point of stopping now. “I dunno, I, I just had a feeling, and I didn’t want to let you slip away.”

“Me too,” Obito confided, lowering the bag of ice, and Kakashi peered at him through the eye that wasn’t swollen shut. “I was just about to run back out when you showed up at the door. I uh, I’m the sound guy here,” he tilted his head towards the bar, “and I was running late; otherwise, I would’ve stopped right there in the crosswalk. But when I saw the band was running late, I was about to go after you,” he ended with a shy smirk.

“You’re the sound guy?” Kakashi’s brain was turning to mush and it had nothing to do with how many blows he took to the face.

“Yeah, I, uh,” Obito brought the ice back up to Kakashi’s head, “I messed with their levels hoping the feedback would distract Tenzō long enough for you to get out of his line of sight, but,” he grimaced.

“You wanna go for a drink with me?” Kakashi mumbled, knowing he couldn’t embarrass himself anymore that night.

Obito chuckled at him and held up his hand. “How many fingers do you see?”

Kakashi focused on the fingers in front of his face. “Three?”

Obito laughed louder and stood up, “Wrong.” He helped Kakashi to his feet, “Looks like Konoha ER is our first date.”

[onlysarah235678]

A Little Bit Part 2

Pairing: Billie Dean Howard x female reader

A/N:  Here’s part two!  Thanks to those who read the first part, or are just joining! Enjoy! I start work again this week, but I’ll do my best to keep writing ❤.

Warnings:  Slight kitten angst? Gay panic and very brief harassment.

You hear from Billie Dean exactly two days later.

You’re actually at home since you worked the weekend, but you are just hanging out with your dog when the phone buzzed from the coffee table. You had just finished lunch and you were about to fall asleep when Milo’s head jerked up at the annoying sound. You sigh before leaving the comfort of the couch to see who it is. Hopefully it isn’t someone who needs anything from you because you had your Monday planned out already. You were staying at home for the rest of the day trying to relax for once. You might take a long walk with Milo later, but you weren’t so sure.

All thoughts of where to hike left your mind as you grab your phone and see you have a text from an unknown number. You don’t really get out much and only talk to a few friends, but all of their numbers are in your phone. It doesn’t even occur to you that it might be Billie. You honestly just thought she was being nice to you since she’d been super late to her appointment.

Despite the flirting smiles and curious looks she’d shot you during the appointment, you hadn’t wanted to think too much into it. You’d hate to get your hopes up for nothing.

What you were hoping for, well you weren’t going to admit that yet.

Once you managed to find the courage to actually look at what the message said—beyond her name of course, you took a deep breath and sat back on the couch.

Hi Y/N, it’s Billie Dean. Are you busy, sweetheart?

There the nickname was again. You ignored how reading it and of course imagining her saying it made you feel and decided to focus on the question she asked. You looked around your living room where the television was paused on a scene from The Blair Witch Project, and where Milo sat on the couch next to you, his giant paws on your leg. You shook your head muttering something under your breath about being silly before you typed out a quick response.

Not at all.

You contemplated typing more because you supposed you should ask if she needed something. However, once you saw she was already typing a response you had to stop yourself from throwing your phone. You shouldn’t be this flustered. Not by the prospect of answering questions about kittens. That’s all this was going to be. Of course it was. You were just helping -possible helping – a client. A beautiful and charming client.

Don’t be silly.

Billie Dean Howard had worked hard to get where she was. Her career was somewhere she wouldn’t have even dared to imagine just 10 years ago. She was an accomplished woman who used her gift to help people. It wasn’t always easy of course, but as she traveled to random, remote places around the world trying to guide stubborn lost souls, she knew she wouldn’t change a thing. She loved what she did, and she liked to think that she was good at it.

Today, however, she was realizing that despite her best efforts, she may not be good at everything. Try as she might, she couldn’t get a hang of this kitten thing. They were a lot more work than she had anticipated. After leaving the vet’s office on Saturday, she’d gone to the pet store and spent a small fortune on food, toys, litter, and a bed. You had told her that the kittens wouldn’t be using litter for a while and she’d foolishly thought that meant they wouldn’t need to go. How idiotic.

As she found out the moment she got home, after the kittens had gotten a meal from Bit, they had all needed to go. She spent a good twenty minutes cleaning out the carrier and each kitten that had gotten themselves dirty. She had set everything up in the house, placed all of the clean kittens on their bed in a nice quiet room, only to have Bit take each one of them into a different room. The laundry room of all places. Billie had let her because she really didn’t want to fight with her, but she’d been constantly checking on them to make sure everything was okay.

She had to make sure they were all warm enough and that Bit was doing her job feeding and grooming them. It was exhausting and Billie was definitely reconsidering this whole fostering thing.

By the time Monday rolled around, she was already stressing about work. She had found someone in the neighborhood who agreed to watch the kittens while she left to do some promotional work for her show, but she quickly found she couldn’t focus. She rushed through work and was home by noon checking on the kittens again.

They all seemed fine at first glance, but then she recounted them and realized that one was missing. She did her best not to panic immediately. She moved Bit a little, earning a hiss of annoyance, to see if the last kitten was hiding underneath her.

No such luck.

Next, Billie looked around the laundry room before moving to the closest room to start a wider search. It wasn’t until she checked her bedroom that she found the kitten just sitting on the comforter. She cursed under her breath as she hurried to check on the little furball.

He, Billie had decided the runt was a boy, was cold to the touch and she panicked. She thought about her options before she ran back downstairs to where she’d abandoned her purse. She held the little kitten close as she found her phone.

When you responded to her first text, Billie considered sending another one, but decided against it. She ended up just calling you, and the urge to curse was strong, but instead you took a deep breath before answering.

“Hi Billie.”

“Hi, Y/N. I’m sorry to bother you. You’re not at work, are you?”

You smile at the concern in Billie’s voice until it occurs to you it may not be for the reasons you think. Still, you shook your head before explaining that you had the day off and that you were at home. She didn’t say anything immediately, but when Billie did speak up, you could tell she was a little stressed.

“Oh. I don’t mean to interrupt your day off, but I had a kitten question.”

So Billie tells you about what’s going on. That she found the kitten away from Bit and the others, cold and just randomly in her room. You ask a few questions, and Billie’s answers are more concerning than reassuring. You decide to focus on the matter at hand before asking anything else.

“Do you have an electric blanket or something you could use to warm him up?”

Billie nearly laughs at the thought, but she stops herself just in time. She simply shakes her head as she heads up the stairs to the linen closet.

“In LA? I’m afraid not.”

You nearly roll your eyes at your stupidity. You had forgotten the fact that it rarely reached freezing in this city. You had moved from a state of unpredictable weather where you needed to be prepared for ice storms and heat waves, and you sometimes forgot that wasn’t normal. You nodded in acknowledgment before you went to the next suggestion you had.

“Right. What about towels?”

You stay on the phone with Billie while she puts some towels in the dryer to warm them up. Surprisingly Bit and her other kittens don’t seem to care despite being right next to it. She then goes to her bedroom and grabs the first blanket she sees that coincidentally already has cat hair on it. She had forgotten about that part of having a pet.

“Be honest. Should I be worried?”

You hold back a sigh as you stand up and begin to wander aimlessly around the room. You don’t want to lie to Billie, but at the same time you remember how on Saturday she’d already claimed that the runt, the boy, they’d decided was her favorite. You would hate for her to be upset by his loss. That said, you couldn’t really give her an honest assessment over the phone.

“Has he been nursing today?

Billie shook her head at this as she put her phone on the bed so she can wrap the kitten in the blanket. She speaks a little louder as she works on making a kitten burrito.

“I’m not sure about today. I had someone watch them while I worked, but yesterday he seemed fine. Normal at least.”

You thought about this before considering your options. Billie had already told you that other than the fact that he was a little cold, he seemed fine. You decided to go with your gut on this one.

“He could get worse, but if you can just keep him warm today and see that he eats, he’ll improve. Let me know if anything else changes though.”

I’ll be back at work tomorrow.

You almost say this, but decide against it because you don’t want it to sound like you wouldn’t be willing to…No. Would you? Of course you would. It was your job. You couldn’t just not see a kitten who was sick. You could of course just tell her to go to work and see another doctor, but you secretly wanted to see her yourself.

Your musing is cut off by the sound of the blonde sighing in what you realize is relief. You smile slightly as she thanks you, but don’t really know what to say in response.

“Thank you so much, Y/N. I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing before I freaked out on you.”

You laugh slightly as you shake your head and turn back toward where Milo was still sitting on the couch. He was waiting for you to return so you both could go back to the movie you’ve honestly seen too many times. You didn’t realize you’d said this until it was too late. Fortunately, you didn’t get time to cringe at your word vomit before you heard Billie laugh.

You weren’t sure you’d ever heard something sound quite so nice.

“Don’t worry about it. I was just watching the Blair Witch Project which I’ve already seen about a dozen times.”

“You like stories about the supernatural?”

You don’t answer immediately because you can’t help but feel like this is a trick question. You do in fact like a good ghost story, but the question seems to be more about whether or not you believe in them. At least that’s where you see this going. So you jump the gun a little with a small smile as you plop back down next to Milo.

“I definitely like them. Good ones at least, but do I believe in them? It depends.”

At this point, Billie was seated on her bed with the kitten that she definitely hadn’t named Mickey on her lap. She could practically see you shrugging and she couldn’t help but ask.

“Depends on what?”

You’re not sure what possesses you to answer the way you do, but you’re smirking and speaking before you can stop yourself.

“Maybe I’ll tell you sometime.”

You barely resist the frantic urge to start screaming at yourself for your out of character display of courage. You’re not usually the one to instigate things. You’ve been accused of being a wallflower in the past by many of your friends and a few people you’ve dated. However, there’s something inexplicably appealing about the idea of getting to see Billie Dean again.

It doesn’t occur to you until too late that your statement could be taken as flirting. Only after you hear her chuckle in amusement do you realize what you’ve done.

“Is that an invitation?”

Despite your initial hesitance about flirting with a client, you decide to throw caution to the wind and just see where this goes. The worst you could do was embarrass yourself, right? It’s not like you were at work now anyway. Not like last time.

“That depends. Would you be interested?”

You and Billie Dean agree to meet later that week. With both of your work schedules full until the weekend, you have a whole 4 days until you’ll see her again, but you’d manage. Somehow.

Well, she did agree to send you updates on the kittens, but that would most likely be by text. You wouldn’t get the perk of hearing her voice.

That thought made you pause. After hanging up the phone, you’d returned to your movie with Milo, but you paused it again before reaching for your computer. You tried not to feel like a creep as you opened your browser and searched Billie’s name.

You figured that you should know at least the basics about her and her show so you didn’t put your foot in your mouth when you saw her on Saturday. The first thing you see when you look is her award-winning smile, literally with some information written underneath it. You disregard the details about where to watch her show for now and go to her website.

For the next hour or so you read a lot about how she got started as a medium and what she’d been doing for the past ten years. You watched a few interviews and started an episode of her show when Milo reminded you of how late it was.

You decided to take a break from being too curious and take Milo on a walk like you’d originally planned. He jumped up at the word ‘walk’ and ran to grab his leash while you ran upstairs to change. On your way back down the stairs you grab your phone and keys before heading to the parking lot. You’re determined to enjoy your day off, so you follow Milo out to the car and do your best to ignore the growing anxiety associated with seeing Billie again. You’re excited of course, but you don’t know what to expect from the medium. Perhaps you just shouldn’t have any expectations for this…get together. You hadn’t called it anything in particular. You were just going to get lunch.

You still hadn’t convinced yourself not to worry by the time you got Milo buckled in the backseat.

Billie Dean hadn’t really given much thought to the idea of having children. Since her career had taken off, she’d convinced herself that she was too busy. She wouldn’t have the time for them and she honestly wasn’t sure she wanted them. She’d never really thought she’d be a good mother.

That said, if raising children was anything like taking care of kittens, then she was definitely right. This experience was very humbling.  

Since she’d hung up with you, she’d been multitasking like a pro. She’d been spending time with the kittens, and making sure that Mickey had nursed and was cuddled up to Bit like the rest of his siblings. Billie had noticed quickly that Bit didn’t pay as much attention to the runt of her litter as she did to everyone else. This observation made her worry and as a result, she spent a lot more time caring for him to make up for it. She was getting a hang of this, but it was exhausting.

Between going over the rest of her week with her assistant and responding to emails from her producer, she was checking on the cats to the point that Bit was probably annoyed.

She hadn’t decided what she was going to do with the cats once they were old enough to adopt out. She knew with her work she couldn’t keep them. Not without changing her schedule significantly. She didn’t want to keep them just to have them stay with other people.

Unfortunately, no one had responded to the found posters she’d had her assistant print out and post around her neighborhood. This made her think that Bit really had been a stray, or at the very least no one wanted her. She sighed as she looked down at her watch again. She’d been checking on them about every half hour which seemed excessive, but she’d found that if she waited any longer, she’d just get antsy and not get any work done. She put out her cigarette in an ash tray, she’d only been smoking when she was away from the cats, and headed upstairs.

When Billie arrived to the laundry room, she saw Bit getting situated again onto the bed with all of her kittens. Or at least 5 of them. She sighed in annoyance before she confirmed who was missing, and immediately left the room in search for him.

This was the third time the Bit had moved Mickey to her room. She found him exactly where he’d been last time, on her pillow. She moved to pick him up and he stirred slightly before making the cutest little noise. Billie smiled before taking him back to the laundry room where Bit was busy grooming herself. She put him back among the other kittens, and after checking on them she headed back downstairs.

It was only a few minutes later when she heard the sound of quiet footsteps upstairs. She listened carefully and waited until she heard Bit jump up onto something to go investigate. She reached the top of the stairs at the same time that Bit was leaving her room and darting back to the laundry room. She groaned loudly as she saw Mickey lying on her pillow again shifting and mewling from being jostled once again.

“For the love of…”

You were still hiking at one of your favorite spots when Billie was struggling to deal with her cats. It wasn’t too crowded at the park you’d chosen because it was the middle of the day on a Monday. That said, there were still plenty of people and dogs around to keep your mind from wandering too much to Billie.

You had to be a little careful with Milo when out in public. Not because he was aggressive, but because it was easy for him to get overwhelmed.  He was blind in one eye due to an injury he’d suffered when he was a puppy, and it was sometimes difficult for him to keep track of everything around him. That said, even though parts of this park were designated off-leash areas, Milo usually preferred to stay by your side. He could be a little anxious when surrounded, but he was getting a lot better from going to work with you every day.

For this reason, you weren’t too concerned when you saw a family with several children approaching you on the trail. Milo loved children.

After Milo got his fill of pets from the children, the two of you continued on your path toward the park. Your mind started to wander as Milo dragged you toward the wide-open space with at least a dozen dogs. The two of you were only half way through your walk, but you had a feeling you’d be stopping for a while to make friends.

At the end of the walk when you arrived back to your car, you realized that you had been without cell service for most of the walk. You had a couple of text messages from Billie Dean, one of which included a picture. That made you smile until you read the message that came with the picture of Mickey sleeping in Billie’s arms.

Why does Bit keep moving him out of bed and dumping him in my room?

You frowned at the thought of this happening, but before you could respond Milo barked and reminded you that you hadn’t opened the door for him. You sighed before getting him settled in the backseat before leaning against the car to type a quick response.

I’m not sure, but Bit may just not want to take care of him.

You consider how that might make Billie feel, but realize that you can’t really sugar coat it. Sometimes a mother abandoned their runts because she didn’t think they’d survive. You hoped that this wasn’t the case for Mickey, but hearing what Bit’s been doing doesn’t make you feel very optimistic. You realize that Billie had sent this message over an hour ago so you send another quick message before heading home.

Sorry I didn’t respond earlier. I’m out hiking with Milo.

The drive home takes a little longer than it usually would because you take a detour at the pet store. You made the mistake of making Milo wait too long in the backseat by himself and he’d chewed his leash in half out of spite. At least that’s what you told yourself. So you led him on a short leash into the pet store to find a replacement. You find one in a few minutes and are headed to the register when you hear someone behind you say your name.

“Dr. Y/L/N.”

You turn to see an employee that you had honestly hoped wasn’t working today. She wasn’t at the register like she’d been last time and you’d foolishly hoped that meant she wasn’t in. You tried not to sigh in annoyance as you turned around with a tight smile, waving the leash in your hand slightly.

“Hey. How are you?”

You ask as a courtesy because you honestly don’t want to spend any more time talking to this woman. You didn’t have anything against the brunette, except that she couldn’t take a hint. She was persistent to the point that it made you a little uncomfortable. The first time you were in here she’d asked you way too many personal questions, and since then you’d called the vet clinic here a few times and whenever she answered she’d flirt some more.

You hoped that this wouldn’t happen again, but when you noticed Claire’s smile you realized it was wishful thinking.

“Oh I’ve been fine. Just bored silly around here. You haven’t called much.”

You didn’t really know how to respond to this, so you shrugged before gesturing to Milo who seemed to remember the brunette. He tried to move forward to sniff her, but his leash wasn’t long enough.

“Well, I’m not at work today, as you can see. I just needed a new leash for Milo.”

Saying this was a mistake because Milo heard his name and his tail started wagging which was the only invitation Claire needed. She moved forward and knelt down to pet him making the same mistake a lot of people do. She reached for him on his blind side and he jerked back a little before turning his head so he could see the hand petting him. He panted happily once Claire took the hint before his tail resumed wagging. You tried not to glare at him for being a traitor. It wasn’t his fault.

“Aw did you eat your leash? Handsome boy.”

You were glad that at least Milo was having fun. You just nod before shifting slightly so you could look around you for an excuse to leave.

“Yeah, he wasn’t too happy with me.”

You pause as you spot the food aisle a little bit away before adding. “You’ll be lucky to get dinner after doing that, Milo.”

Your bluff had its intended effect and Milo pulled away from Claire and started pawing at you. You just rolled your eyes before leading him toward the end of the aisle. To your escape.

“Yeah, I know. Dinner time. We can go.”

Milo tugs you to toward the front door but you stop by the register first, not failing to notice that the brunette followed you. You went to the first open register and put the leash on the conveyor belt before shooting the person behind the counter a pleading look. She was on your side.

“Hi Emma.”

Help me.

The blonde looked between you and her coworker with a frown, quickly understanding what had happened. It wasn’t like Claire was subtle. She’d ask about you almost every day she was working in the clinic, not that she’d told you that.

“Hey, doc. What’s up?”

You offer the blonde a smile before you open your mouth to respond when you’re cut off. You watch Claire move so she’s standing right next to Emma, practically pushing her out of the way as she eyed you curiously.

“Yeah, if you’re not working you must be free tonight.”

There are a lot of different ways you’d like to respond to this, but you choose to do your best to hide how annoyed you are as you shake your head. You’re free as a bird tonight, but that doesn’t mean you’re going to tell her that.

The lie you come up with though isn’t one you had intended on using.

“Actually, I’m not. I’m going out with my girlfriend.”

Luckily it doesn’t seem like Claire’s prepared a response for this, and you just breathe a sigh of relief as Emma hands you your bag with a smile.

“Thanks. Good to see you two.”

You leave quickly and curse yourself the whole way to the car. What an idiot. Why would you say that?

You’re ticked at Claire for being so aggressive, again. You slammed the door shut behind Milo, without meaning to, and you hurried to get in the car to scratch him behind his ears. You shoot him an apologetic look before sighing in defeat. You hate that you’d lied and that your self-esteem took a hit as well, but what could you do? It’s not like you were going to agree to going anywhere with Claire.

“Sorry, buddy. Let’s get you home for some dinner, hmm? Then we can watch whatever you want.” 

Part 3

[mcwriting]

The Marriage Project (7)

IT’S FINALLY HERE! MY FAVORITE CHAPTER OF THIS SERIES!!! Consider it a little Christmas gift from me to y’all :) there’s plenty more to come, but I loveee the vibes of this one so much

Story Masterlist

Word Count: 3491

Warnings: Some language but I’m pretty sure that’s it

% approximately the end of the 2nd week of October %

You stood on the Holland’s front porch Sunday afternoon holding a rust red jumpsuit over one shoulder and your volleyball bag on the other. 

It was nippy out, probably 50-something fahrenheit, but you’d tucked your long sleeved jersey into some black sweats and tossed on your letterman. You had decided to wear your favorite jersey, which was black except for the stripe down each sleeve in your school colors and the white words and number on the torso.

Since you were taking pictures, you straightened your hair again and put on some light makeup to complete the look.

Paddy opened the front door, looking star struck.

“Oh, hey Paddy. How are you?”

He stared up at you, flustered.

“I, um. Good?”

You gave a big smile.

“Good to hear. Mind if I come in? It’s kinda cold out.”

“Oh, yeah. Sure.”

He stepped out of the way and shut the door behind you. Inside, Tom was running around frantically, grabbing various clothing items and stuffing them in a bag. He noticed you as he passed by.

“Hey, y/n. Sorry, just trying to get all my football stuff together. It just came out of the dryer.”

You watched in amusement as he rushed back and forth. Nikki came and stood next to you.

“I love my sons, but they can be a real mess sometimes,” she joked. “Let's go put your things in the car while he gets himself together.”

You set the bag in the back of her SUV and hung the jumpsuit hanger on a loop to prevent it from wrinkling. You were talking in the garage when Tom burst through the door, a duffel bag on his shoulder.

“Okay, sorry. I couldn’t find one of my cleats,” he explained, tossing his own bag in the back. He didn’t yet put on his uniform since the pads would get uncomfortable, so Tom just wore some jeans and a tee for the ride.

“Y/n, do you want to hop in front? I’m sure Tom wouldn’t mind,” Nikki said, raising her eyebrows at her son.

“Are you sure? I don’t mind either way.”

“It’s fine. We can just switch on the way home,” Tom replied. You found it odd that he didn’t press but assumed it had something to do with his mom standing nearby.

With that, you loaded up and started the hour long drive. The time passed quickly as you conversed with Nikki, telling her about your plans for after high school. In the backseat, Tom dabbed a little bit of his mom's foundation over the still-discolored parts of his cheek.

Eventually, you got to a small neighborhood and pulled up to a cute cabin. As you and Tom retrieved your things from the trunk, an elderly couple appeared on the front porch.

“Hey, mom. Hey, dad,” Nikki began, hugging them. She gestured to you, “This is y/n. You might recognize her from Tom’s soccer games and some academic things, she’s on the girls team and very smart.”

You blushed at the compliments.

“Why, yes, I have seen you. It’s nice to meet you, dear. Just call us grandma and grandpa,” Nikki’s mother said as you were shaking hands with her husband. 

She walked up and enveloped you in a hug. As you awkwardly wrapped your own arms around her, you looked over her shoulder to find Tom shrugging sheepishly at you.

She pulled away, holding you at an arm's length.

“Well you are just the prettiest thing, aren’t you?” You blushed at her kindness and thanked her. “Now what are we all doing standing around out here? Come on in! I made cookies while you were on the way so they’re still warm.”

She ushered everyone in, Tom holding open the screen door for the group. Tom directed you to a spare room to set down your bags and hang your jumpsuit while Nikki got her camera things together.

You were sat around the dining room eating cookies discussing the afternoon’s timeline. You and Tom would take your sports pictures, then everyone would eat around five, and then you’d go back out in regular clothes for golden hour at around six.

After a few minutes, Nikki finished getting her lens ready.

“Okay. Tom, why don’t you go put on your football uniform and meet us down at the dock. Y/n, do you need to get anything else for your volleyball pictures?”

You answered yes, walking with Tom to the room to grab your volleyball shoes and ball. You were waiting to take off your sweatpants until you got outside for two reasons: it was cold, and you felt weird about walking around his grandparents’ house in only spandex shorts.

The dock wasn’t far, you could see it from the top of the wooden staircase built into the side of the hill the cabin sat on.

You and Nikki conversed as you walked down, discussing ideas of poses and where you’d stand.

You shimmied out of your sweats once you got to the dock, draping them over a metal chair covered in dead leaves. The cold air gave your legs goosebumps, but you sucked it up. You were just glad you’d remembered to shave your legs above anything else. 

Nikki directed you around some trees, had you toss your hair over your shoulder, and took a few pictures with you in your letterman. It had been about 15 minutes when Tom came down in his football gear, helmet and ball in hand.

“Oh, perfect. Tom, would you mind tossing some leaves for me? I have a neat idea for a shot.”

She had you stand in front of the water and palm the volleyball as Tom sent a handful of leaves in the air around you. You tried a few with a serious expression and some while laughing. After a few more shots that included you sitting on the dock, she had Tom jump in next to you.

“Okay, y/n, I want you to stand with the ball on your right side like that, and then Tom, get on her left and hold the helmet by the facemask,” she pointed around, guiding you. “Good! Okay now y/n, put your weight on your left leg and Tom, raise your chin. Serious faces people!” 

There were clicks and flashes as she continued to direct you in slightly different poses. One cool shot had each of you palming your respective sports balls in front of you.

“Okay, are you good with those, y/n? Is there anything else you want in your jersey before I start working on Tom’s?” 

You shook your head and gestured for her to move on with Tom’s pictures. By now your legs were used to the cold, so you refrained from putting your sweats back on, instead just standing behind Nikki watching Tom model like he’d been doing it his whole life.

Oh right… he has

His mom and he worked together well, as if they were reading each other’s minds. 

You studied the way Tom looked. After all these years, you’d never really looked at him intently enough to see the way he filled out his uniform so well. 

His biceps bulged when he moved his arms to flex for a couple shots, and the tight pants and pads around his legs gave the illusion of massive thigh muscles. As you looked back up, his necklace caught your eye. 

He hadn’t tucked it in completely, instead letting it dangle over his jersey, the red “ruby” glinting in the afternoon sunlight. You smiled at the fact he’d left it on, then looked down at your own hand. You’d forgotten to take yours off, too.

Would it be noticeable in the pictures? Was there a possibility family members would start asking if you’d secretly gotten engaged when you eventually shared the shots online? Maybe, but you decided it wasn’t a big enough deal to worry about. Some had already pestered you Friday at dinner.

You didn’t realize how long you’d been out there when a cowbell began ringing from above you. 

“Oh! That’s mom. Dinner must be about ready. Let’s head back up. I think we got enough, Tom,” Nikki explained.

She started heading up the stairs as you grabbed your ball and sweats, and Tom was waiting for you at the bottom, holding his jersey and pads so he was only left in a compression shirt on top. He started up a few steps ahead of you. 

Woah. His ass looks really nice in those pants was the first thought that popped into your head when you looked up. Oh wait. Shit, what am I saying?

You tried to avoid looking as you continued up the hill. By the time you reached the top, Nikki was already entering the house and Tom was again waiting for you. You passed right by him when he spoke up.

“You’re really gonna go in the house like that?”

You stopped and turned back to face him.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you really want to walk into the home of my elderly grandparents with your ass hanging out?”

Right. The whole point of the sweats.

You set the volleyball down while you pulled them on.

“Now I’m not going to say that I minded the view or anything but-” you slapped him in the chest before you tugged on the waistband, hopping a little to make them sit just right and tightening the strings, then picked your ball off the ground.

“Don’t be talking about my ass that way! Nasty.”

“Sorry, sorry, I had to say it.” He put his hands up in mock surrender.

“Well if you’re gonna say that, then I’m allowed to do this,” you said, right before giving him a light slap on his own butt and darting to the house.

“Ohhh, I’ll get you for that!” he cried, following you in.

You were both chattering as you entered the dining room, where Nikki and her parents were setting up the tableware.

“Alrighty, we have some roast chicken and potatoes and green beans tonight. Hope you all enjoy!” the older woman said before sitting down. The smell made your stomach growl quietly.

You all made up plates and chowed down. Tom’s grandpa sat at the head of the table, with his wife and daughter on his left, and Tom and you on the right.

You and Tom were talking about school things when his grandma addressed you.

“So, y/n. How long have you and Tom been dating?” 

You furrowed your brows, then looked between Tom and her, an awkward tension filling the room.

“Um, grandma… she isn’t my girlfriend,” Tom said for you. You gave him a light squeeze on the thigh to signify thanks.

“Oh! Oh my goodness I had no idea! You two just seemed so close that I just assumed you were together. Sorry about that!”

You talked a little bit longer as you finished dinner, but now things felt a little uncomfortable. 

What were we doing that seemed couple-y? Could they see our little spat outside?

You took your plates to the kitchen before heading back with Tom to change into your other clothes. Since it was already almost six, you both just changed in the room, backs to each other.

You slid out of your sweats and tugged off the jersey, leaving on the spandex shorts under your jumpsuit since they didn’t show through. It was sleeveless, so you needed to change into a different bra. You glanced behind you quickly to make sure Tom was still turned around.

He was, but he was butt ass naked. You turned back towards the wall quickly, eyes wide. You assumed it had to do with the fact he wore a jockstrap under his uniform, but dear God did he have to take off everything at once?

You were scarred to say the least.

You ripped off one bra and fumbled to put the other one on before sliding the shoulder straps of your outfit on all the way. By the time you were done, Tom was at least wearing jeans and tugging on a white tee.

You finally slipped on some wedges and refixed your hair in the mirror. 

“Ready to head down?” you asked.

“Why don’t you go on without me. I’ll be down here in a few. I need to restyle my hair,” he explained, sliding his own letterman jacket on. 

You accepted that and headed back outside and down the steps where Nikki was waiting, shooting pictures of the lake.

“Oh, I love that color on you, it compliments the autumn theme well,” Nikki said as you began taking pictures. Eventually Tom appeared, too. He had another shirt in hand for when he was done with his letter jacket.

You let them take those pictures real quick, and then Tom changed, buttoning up a flannel that’s colors matched your own outfit. You were sitting on the dock balcony posing when Tom appeared next to his mother, who noticed the coordination immediately.

“This is amazing! Tom, go stand in front of y/n and cross your arms, and y/n, drape an arm over his shoulder… uh huh just like that… yes that’s good!” she directed you.

Tom helped you hop down after a few different shots and you went to stand with Nikki as she took more photos of her son.

The sun was setting quickly, so she was about to call it a night.

“Okay, you two, I just need you to get together for a couple final pictures. Act like you like each other for at least a few minutes.”

You couldn’t help but snort as you stepped up next to Tom, him putting an arm over your shoulder as your arm snaked around his waist. She was taking pictures when Tom muttered out the corner of his mouth,

“Your hand’s a little close there.”

Knowing exactly what he meant, you slid your hand down his back, resting it on top of his butt.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you feigned innocence. 

He gave you a look that said “I’m onto you,” so you did what any rational person would do in that scenario. 

You squeezed his buttcheek. 

It must have scared him or tickled or something, because he about jumped from his skin, jaw dropped.

“Oh I’ll get you for that now!” he exclaimed, picking you up and tossing you over his shoulder.

You squealed and laughed and kicked your legs as one hand traveled along your waist tickling you. In the chaos, you didn’t notice the rapid clicks of the camera shutter. He kept you off the ground for a few more seconds before finally setting you down carefully.

“Rethinking that now?” he asked, eyebrows raised in amusement as you stared up at him, pouting. 

“I’d do it again just to see your jaw hit the floor honestly.”

He rolled his eyes when some lights around the deck kicked on, not adding much brightness to the darkening sky.

“Well that looks like our cue to wrap things up. The lights going up the stairs won’t be much better, and I don’t want anyone to fall,” Nikki explained.

Once again, she headed up first, leaving the two of you somewhat alone. Now that it was dark, the air made you grab your upper arms and shiver.

“Here, put this on,” Tom said, holding up his letter jacket.

“Oh, I’m fine. It’ll only take a minute to get to the house.”

“No seriously, you look like you’re freezing. Plus, I won’t have to carry it,” he joked.

You rolled your eyes and snatched it from his hand, sliding your bare arms into the sleeves. His jacket was at least a size bigger than yours, so it basically swallowed you. He chuckled.

“Come on. I don’t want you getting lost up the stairs since you’ve practically disappeared under my jacket.”

He put his hand between your shoulder blades, guiding you to step ahead of him as the darkness began to set in.

% 

You’d changed back into your sweats and put on a tee and your own letter jacket and were now loading up Nikki’s car to head back home. 

After walking back to the house, you had all sat around and visited a bit longer until realizing it was half past nine and there was an hour’s drive ahead of you.

“Come back anytime, dear. You were a real delight,” Nikki’s mom said, squeezing you into another hug. 

“Thank you, grandma. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Will you be at Tom’s senior night here in a few weeks? I’d love to see you there,” she said, holding your hands in hers.

“Yeah, I always try to go to the games. I’m hoping to be on homecoming court this year, too, so fingers crossed.”

“Oh, sweetie, if they don’t vote you queen, I’ll personally come count the votes myself,” she joked, shaking her head. 

You laughed and after final goodbyes, climbed into the back seat, expecting Tom to go up front. Instead, he slid into the other side of the back row.

“You can sit up front, Tom. I’m happy to stay back here,” you explained, showing that you’d already buckled in.

“Oh it’s alright. I’ve already sat down, we can both stay.”

You again found it odd that he was willing to do so, but didn’t push the matter.

Having spent most of the afternoon with Tom’s family, you hadn’t looked at your phone much as not to seem rude, so you immediately began responding to snaps and scrolling through social media.

Tom, on the other hand, was watching Tiktoks. 

“Hey, watch this,” he said, unbuckling his seat belt and sliding into the middle spot next to you, refastening himself in.

“You could have just given me your phone,” you said, eyebrows raised.

“Like I could trust you with that.”

He handed over an AirPod and you watched together, laughing. He continued to scroll through his for you page while you looked on. 

After a while, your neck became strained, so you resorted to leaning your head on his shoulder. He didn’t say anything, instead only tilting his cheek to rest on your head as you continued in silence. 

A little bit later, he left the app and went to Spotify, turning on a playlist containing songs with soft beats that made you sleepy. 

You didn’t realize how tired you really were until you were being shaken awake by your nemesis, sitting up straight in realization of what happened. 

“Hey, we’re about to pull into my neighborhood,” he whispered. You just nodded in response, trying to compose yourself.

Nikki pulled into the garage and you began collecting your things from the back.

“Y/n, would you like to stay in the guest room tonight? It’s almost eleven and I wouldn’t want you to feel unsafe going home.”

You thought about it for a moment before realizing you had no extra clothes and well… Tom.

“Oh that’s alright, my house is only 10 minutes away. Thank you though,” you told her as the three of you entered the home. 

Nikki said her goodbyes and disappeared up the stairs for the third time that day, once again leaving you and Tom alone.

“Why don’t I walk you to your car?” Tom offered, opening the front door. You unlocked the car and Tom opened the back door for you to set your things in it. You were about to leave when something popped into your mind.

“Thanks again for clarifying to your grandma earlier. I didn’t want to break her heart but I wasn’t sure how to let her down nicely. She seemed so excited,” you explained.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m pretty sure she would have asked any girl the same question. But she really did like you, grandpa too. He doesn’t quite show it like her.”

“That’s sweet. I enjoyed hanging out with them this evening, and the food was incredible.”

“She does make some of the best food you’ll ever eat, but you should taste grandpa’s grilled steaks. Those are a real treat.”

“Well, you’ll have to bring me again some time. Oh, and thanks for letting me use you as a pillow in the car. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

You knew your face had turned pink, but you could see Tom’s redden as well.

“Don’t mention it. I actually ended up sleeping for a little bit, too.”

A silence fell around you, so you eventually said your goodbyes and hopped into your driver’s seat. 

You watched in your rearview mirror as Tom stayed standing on his sidewalk until you had driven a few yards off, eventually meandering back to the house.

There was a familiar flutter in your stomach as your lips turned up into a smile.

Maybe he’s not as bad as I always thought.

%

A/N: omg I’m so happy to finally post this y’all have no idea. Hope you enjoyed! As always, feel free to send asks about anything or just say hi!

Send a message or ask if you’d like to be added to my permanent or series taglists so I can verify you’ve been added!

Story tag list: @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @l0lmk, @primadonnasdream, @bookworm06, @thenoddingbunny-blog, @agentnataliahofferson, @spider-babe, @stxfxniexreads,

[pain-somnia]

Title: Take Me Now, I’m In Too Far Rating: M (for sexual content) Disclaimer Playlist Art Credit: @inknigella​ (used with permission) Day’s Notes: I have recently updated this fic on Patreon. It is one of three fics of mine exclusive to Patreon, but here’s a chance to read Part 1 of my “exes as roommates” AU. This fic is dear to me in almost the same way Kingdom For Two is. The fic started as a simple Roommates AU, but then was molded into something else when I decided to add the fact that they were exes. I wanted to write about two people that love each other a lot but growing up and becoming “real” adults made things difficulty. If you would like to give this fic a chance and enjoy Part 1, you can find Part 2 & Part 3 on Patreon. Here is a link to the tag for this fic. I have opened up the $1 tier permanently for access to exclusive fics and early access to publicly posted fics, but I have other tiers with different perks. One of the perks for certain tiers are PDFs that contain exclusive art that will only be found in full on my Patreon (or in some cases Cj’s Patreon). The above banner was created with a preview of one of the many works Ink has provided to help bring my work to life.

I hope you all enjoy the first part of this fic and consider becoming one of my patrons 😊

Part One

She was going to kill Karin. And her stupid boyfriend. She was going to kill Karin and her boyfriend and then take back the armchair she let them have as a moving-in-together gift.

Sakura wasn’t that surprised when Karin told her she was moving out. She had been spending so much time at Suigetsu’s apartment, it was as if she had already moved out months ago. It was only a matter of time before the two of them would officially move in together.

Karin had been considerate and had found her a new roommate before she gave her the news. And although Sakura wasn’t too keen on the idea of living with a stranger—a man at that—she was willing to put up with it for her friend’s happiness.

At least for a few months while she looked for a new place if possible.

Unfortunately for Sakura, she couldn’t set a day to actually meet her new roommate before he was set to move in. Their schedules conflicted most days so Karin went ahead and took care of all of the necessary paperwork and was present when he moved in. With how things had begun, Sakura assumed she wouldn’t meet her new roommate until her day off.

She hadn’t expected to run into him as she was leaving for work at the bakery at three in the morning and he was coming home smelling of booze.

She definitely didn’t expect to see her ex-boyfriend holding a key to her apartment.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Sasuke muttered, running a hand through his messy, jet black hair.

“You’re my new roommate?” Sakura scoffed, wringing her hands in the scarf she was attempting to put on on her way out. “How did you not know that I was Karin’s roommate?”

Sasuke looked at her impassively for a moment, as if mulling over what he wanted to say before pushing past her and saying, “I’m going to bed.”

“What? We’re not even going to talk about this?”

“If we start now, you’re going to be late for work,” he called back to her without turning around. “Can’t have that can we?”

Sakura scoffed but couldn’t retort. He was right. If she missed her bus she was going to have to wait for the next one and it would cause her to be late.

She wanted nothing more than to bang on his bedroom door and demand that he come out and speak with her. How could he just go to sleep!?

“We’re talking when I get back!” She shouted, grabbing the front door. Sakura waited but there was no response. She growled in frustration and slammed the door behind her on her way out.

.

.

“Have you been taking your anger out on dough again?” Ino commented dryly between page flips of a cake catalogue, pointing out cute designs to the toddler sitting on her lap and cooing.

Sakura rubbed her temple with the heel of her palm and sighed. It was one in the afternoon and she had spent the day busy working on custom orders. At the moment she was sitting through a consultation with her childhood friend who needed to order a birthday cake for her son, Inojin. She had tried to throw herself into baking and packaging orders but now that there was a slow down where it was only her and two of the shop clerks, her mind was free to think about how her ex was now living with her.

“You know how Karin moved out and found me a roommate?”

“Uh-huh, it was kind of unexpected. Isn’t it a little early though? They’ve only been dating for━”

“Sasuke is the roommate she found me.”

“Holy━sorry, honey.” Ino interrupted herself and covered her son’s ears. “Holy shit!”

“I wanted to call her and chew her out but in her defense, she doesn’t know he’s my ex-boyfriend.” Sakura slumped in her seat, took a fork and dug into one of the cake slices she brought out for tasting. “When I did get a chance to talk to her earlier, she said that apparently Suigetsu is best buddies with him and Kiba. Kiba and Sasuke were rooming with their friend Shino but the lease was coming to an end and Shino was moving away for a teaching job and Kiba decided to move in with his fiancée. So━”

“So Sasuke needed a new place quick and conveniently Suigetsu knew a place close enough to his workplace and with someone that desperately needed a new roommate.”

Sakura tossed the fork over her shoulder in defeat and dropped her head into her hands. Ino reached over and patted her arm in a comforting manner.

“I give you guys two weeks.”

“Two weeks for what?” Sakura lifted her head up to narrow her eyes at Ino. “Before we kill each other?”

Ino covered Inojin’s ears one more time and said, “Two weeks before you’re fucking.”

“Ino!” Sakura sat up, looking affronted, hand clutching the front of her apron.

“You guys used to go at it like rabbits,” Ino gave her a sly smile, “and it’s not like you guys broke up because you grew to hate each other.”

“That was years ago, Ino.” Sakura rolled her eyes and pushed the cake slices closer to Inojin. He immediately sank his fingers into the cake and ate from his hands. “He’s probably moved on anyway.”

“It was the stupidest break up.”

“I know it was, but we were so busy and our schedules never aligned. It was frustrating.” Sakura sighed and stared off into space. “It’s been four years…”

Ino took out some wet wipes and cleaned Inojin’s chubby fingers. “So what are you going to do?”

Sakura shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Ino looked at her incredulously. “You’re just going to live with him and not do a thing about it.”

“I didn’t even notice he was there for three days already.” Sakura shrugged again. “And our schedules never sync up. I really don’t think it will be an issue.”

“Unless he brings someone home,” Ino said the words slowly so Sakura couldn’t miss what she was telling her.

“He’s not as insensitive as that.” Sakura crossed her arms in front of her chest. The action was to get as close to hugging herself without actually doing it.

The truth was that the Sasuke she knew wasn’t insensitive. But she didn’t know this Sasuke; a Sasuke that was twenty-five instead of the twenty year old she knew and loved.

.

.

The new apartment was a lot closer to the tattoo parlor he worked at than his old place. It was one of the things that sold him on it when Suigetsu mentioned that Karin was moving in with him and leaving her old roomie without. That and the washer and dryer included in the apartment which meant no more paying at a laundromat or to use the communal laundry center.

Sasuke wasn’t too keen on sharing a space with a woman he didn’t know but Karin insisted that his roommate was clean and quiet and that with her work schedule he wouldn’t be running into her except on Sundays when her bakery was closed.

Bakery.

That was the first sign that had him want to put the pen down and walk away. Because baking is what she wanted to do for a living. But what were the odds that Karin was talking about her? There were tons of bakeries in the city and Sakura didn’t own one the last time he checked.

But that was five years ago when she was nineteen and too young. She was still pretty young to be a business owner but with Sakura’s tenacity there was a highly likely chance that she would have her own shop. And wasn’t that one of the reasons she had been saving every penny she could when she started working?

Shaking his head of all of those thoughts, he had signed the documents that would transfer him as the new leasee replacing Karin.

It wasn’t until he was moving in that Sasuke found out who exactly Karin’s roommate had been.

Suigetsu and he were bringing in boxes while Karin gave him a tour of the apartment when he saw the photos on the wall. Anyone could dye their hair pink but what were the odds that another pink haired woman around Karin’s age would have gone to Catholic school for high school and wore the same uniform that Sakura used to prance around in.

“Sakura is pretty sentimental so she has photos all over the apartment,” he distantly heard Karin explain as he examined all of the photos that were lined up in the hallway leading to the bedrooms. “Come check out the bathroom. It’s pretty big ‘cause the washer and dryer are set up in there. There’s a door to block out that area from the toilet and shower cabin for some privacy. It’s frosted glass but you can’t really see what’s going on on the other side.”

Karin hadn’t been friends with Sakura when the two of them had been dating so he couldn’t fault her for not knowing but Suigetsu did know that Sakura was his ex.

An ex he was still kind of hung up on.

Which is why after work he headed to the bar with Kiba and Tamaki, Kiba’s fiancée. They were supposed to celebrate him finding a new place but after Kiba asked why Suigetsu wasn’t there, Sasuke explained that he was banned from their usual bar for a few weeks because he let him move in with his ex without warning him.

If he was lucky he would never have to run into Sakura while he was living there. Because wasn’t that the cause of their breakup before? With her busy culinary school schedule and apprenticeship and then his work at the parlor running into late at night, they barely saw each other.

So stumbling in slightly drunk and a little high at three in the morning, Sasuke didn’t expect to see her on the other side of the apartment door in the middle of bundling up for the November cold.

Sakura still looked like she did at nineteen but different at the same time. Her face had lost most of the roundness of youth, but her figure was no longer as slim. She was still on the thin side, but unlike Karin who was all sharp edges and harsh angles, Sakura had filled out either with age or from eating one too many of her own cupcakes.

Sasuke ran a hand through his hair before tucking the arm it was attached to behind his head. He was finding it difficult to stay asleep which was all he had planned on doing before work for the day. Sakura had said something about talking later and he had been dreading having to have the conversation. He vaguely recalled saying something snarky about her running late for work. No doubt she would be upset over that.

The conversation was going to happen. But considering he would be gone before she came home from work, who knew when it would actually take place.

If he was lucky, she would wait until they were home and not find him at work like she used to.

.

.

When Sasuke first met Sakura she was wearing all of the cliche warning signs.

He was busy sketching when she strolled into the shop. Sasuke was supposed to be manning the reception desk and was likely to get bitched at by his cousin’s best friend for not paying attention.

“Hey,” greeted a cheerful voice.

Looking up from his sketchbook, Sasuke blinked in confusion at what he was seeing. Before him stood two teenage girls wearing the dark green tartan patterned pleated skirt and white button down shirt of a school uniform. The blonde one had a sweater wrapped around her waist but the slightly shorter girl with rose gold hair had a cream colored school cardigan with the school crest emblazoned on the left side of her chest.

“Our Lady of Sorrows is seven blocks,” Sasuke pointed out the door, “that way.”

“We have an appointment.” The blonde girl blew a bubble with her gum and popped it. “The school day also ended like an hour ago, dude.”

Raising an eyebrow, he flipped through the appointment book and asked, “names?”

“Ino Yamanaka and Sakura Haruno,” the girl with the pink hair answered, pointing at the girl that matched the names she gave. “We have an appointment with my cousin Sasori.”

Looking down the schedule log there it was. The new piercer did have an appointment with an Ino and a Sakura.

“Aren’t piercings prohibited at catholic schools?” Sasuke asked, eyeing the uniforms.

“Yeah, but you can’t get caught if you get them where the nuns can’t see them.” The pink haired girl winked at him, green eyes sparkling mischievously.

“What kind of piercings are you getting then?” He asked, taking out the waiver forms.

“Belly button for Ino.” The blonde girl raised her hand and took her form and filled out the form.

He turned to Sakura and waited for her answer. Her lips turned upwards at the corners in a coy smile.

“Hips.”

Even now, if Sasuke closed his eyes and concentrated on the memory of Sakura swiveling her hips as he thrust up into her, he could see the jewelry twinkling at him as she dipped her hips.

A lot of years had gone by since that first encounter and Sasuke was no longer the shop slave he was during his apprenticeship and Sakura was no longer that rebellious catholic school girl.

It didn’t stop him from wondering if her dermals were still in place or if after all those years her skin rejected the piercings and they had to be removed.

“What’s up with you, kid?” He felt someone ruffle his hair and he swatted at the air. The only one that had the courage to do so was Konan, one of their piercers.

“Nothing,” he replied, sanitizing the tattoo bed before his next client showed up.

“His ex girlfriend found out he lives with her,” Kiba cackled from his work station. Sasuke took his discarded gloves and threw them across the room until they hit him with a smack. “Ow!”

“Why would that be a surprise?” Konan asked. Sasuke made himself busy taking needles to the autoclave to avoid responding.

“She works baker’s hours,” Sasuke heard Kiba responding for him. “They have opposing schedules so Sui’s girlfriend took care of everything.”

“Good luck with that.”  Konan went to the reception counter to check the appointment book. She had already moved on from the conversation.

I’m going to need more than luck, Sasuke grumbled inwardly.

.

.

Sakura drummed her fingers against her mug, nails clinking against the ceramic. She knew Sasuke wouldn’t get home until late so she called the co-owner of her bakery and asked her to oversee the baking of the everyday  goods the following morning.

While Sakura mostly ran the show in the kitchen—Hinata being too soft and gentle to command the staff—she was mostly the cake artist and worked on custom orders. It was a lot more relaxed than the job she had as a pastry chef for the high end hotel in the city, but it still demanded a lot of her time.

She could spend hours of her day just to work on a cake that would still take her three days to make all of the components for it.

It wasn’t until one in the morning that the front door creaked open, keys jingling as they were pulled out of the lock.

“You stayed up.” Sasuke toed his boots off and lined them up next to hers. The leather work boots were of a popular brand so they hadn’t alarmed Sakura despite them being part of Sasuke’s signature look.

Sakura stood up from his seat at the couch and wrapped her oversized cardigan tighter around her body. She hugged herself, feeling exposed in her pajamas. “I said we had to talk.”

“There’s not much to talk about.” Sasuke tossed his keys on the kitchen island. Sakura grabbed them and placed them on a wall hook next to her own set of keys. “I need a place to live, you need a roommate. That’s it.”

“That’s it?” Sakura asked, voice soft and slow, urging him to re-examine their situation. When he continued to stare at her impassively, Sakura scoffed.

“I didn’t know you were Karin’s roommate until I was moving in.”

“I know.” Sakura ran a hand through her hair, pushing her bangs back. Sasuke wasn’t a liar. At least the Sasuke she knew wasn’t a liar. “I know.”

“So is this the end of the discussion?” Sasuke’s eyes drifted from her to the hallway behind her. It was late and all he wanted was to get to bed. “I don’t really see any problem with us living together. You didn’t even notice that I was here for three days.”

The problem is that I never got over you. “Alright, if there’s no problem then let’s go over the rules.”

“Rules?” Sasuke gave her a blank look.

“Yes, rules. Karin and I had them and now so will we.”

“Okay.” Sasuke crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned against the island. “What are your rules?”

“Rule number one: no fucking on the couch.”

Sasuke’s eyes went wide and he choked on an inhale. “That’s a rule you guys had or is that one you made for me?”

“That was an actual rule we had.” Sakura shivered in disgust. “Suigetsu has a very pale ass.”

“Yeah, everyone’s seen more of Sui than they’ve ever wanted to.”

“Rule number two: toilet seat needs to be put back down after use.”

“Okay, that’s definitely one you made up for me.” Sasuke stood you straighter and looked her up and down. “Do I get to make rules too?”

“I will consider them.”

“Alright.” Sasuke was silent for a moment as he pondered. “No obnoxious noises such as vacuuming when you know the other is sleeping.”

“That’s reasonable.” Sakura sat down on one of the bar stools at the island and took out her notepad. She took out a pen and wrote down a few lines. “I do my laundry twice a week━Wednesdays and Sundays, usually around noon. Having a schedule kind of helps out ‘cause the laundry room is in the bathroom.”

They went back and forth writing down rules and going over each other’s work schedule. Sakura tapped the pen on the table and took a deep breath. She didn’t want to step on any toes or be misunderstood but she needed to bring up an uncomfortable topic.

“No overnight guests.” Sasuke raised an eyebrow and in a rush to recover Sakura blurted out, “for either of us! At least not without a heads up. I don’t want to be walking around in my underwear and there’s a stranger in my home.”

“Why would you be walking around in your━?”

“I sleep like that sometimes!” Sakura snapped, cheeks heating up. “I wake up to use the bathroom or get water and I’m too drowsy to consider pants.”

“Why do you sleep in your underwear if you get cold easily?” Sasuke’s face scrunched up in confusion.

“I come home too tired to change so I just sleep in my underwear.” Sakura stomped her foot. Sasuke raised an eyebrow. “Don’t judge me!”

“Just remember that I live here now and will see your ass if you decide that pants are too much,” Sasuke yawned, “effort. I’m going to bed now.”

Sakura watched him head to his room with a frown on her face. It wasn’t until she heard the lock on his door click that she let out an exhausted sigh.

Does he have to look cute when he’s sleepy?

.

.

“Is this too much for a three year old’s birthday?” Sakura sat back and looked thoughtfully at her sketch with her chin resting on her fist.

Hinata shrugged as she continued to pipe buttercream flowers. “I mean it’s more for Ino, isn't it?”

“God,” Sakura rolled her eyes, “it really is. I’m sure Inojin would be happy with a dinosaur on a cake instead of a dinosaur made out of cake.”

Hinata giggled softly as she continued to make a bouquet out of cupcakes. She was working on cupcakes for a bridal shower. Sakura had helped her with the structure to make it appear that it was suspended in the air and now all she had to do was decorate it.

When Sakura had met Hinata, the young woman wasn’t the best baker. It was an issue of confidence and being unsure if it was the best decision she had made. Upon discovering that Hinata had a few years to become a successful baker or get married to a man her father chose, Sakura took her under her wing and when they were ready they used Hinata’s trust fund to secure a location.

At that point Sakura already had a reputation for her cake sculptures so they lucked out.

Just because Sakura couldn’t be with the person she loved, it didn’t mean she was going to watch someone give up on their dream and marry someone they were forced to.

“So how has Tinder been working out for you?” Sakura drawled as she took out the ingredients she was going to need.

“I prefer Bumble, actually,” Hinata mumbled, face flushing pink. “You know it’s weird describing myself as pleasantly plump. Usually I would just say fat or chubby.”

“But you are pleasantly plump,” Sakura teased her. “And good call on Bumble. Message any guys?”

“I might have,” Hinata muttered under her breath, face turning a dark shade of red.

“Oh, you dirty slut.”

“We only met for coffee!” Hinata insisted over Sakura’s laughter. Sakura waved her hand at her and tried to reign in her laughter. It was quiet in the kitchen until Hinata said, “I wouldn’t have minded though. He has such pretty blue eyes.”

Sakura only stopped laughing when Hinata threw buttercream at her face.

The assistants walked in from the front of the shop to find Sakura covered in pink and purple frosting, armed with a piping bag full of green frosting, and Hinata shielding her cupcake sculpture.

.

.

Sakura was exhausted by the time she got home. It was one of those rare days where she didn’t get home until late. There was so much math and engineering into creating cake sculptures and trial and error.

She slumped against her apartment door and groaned. She had just unlocked the door but had no energy to push it open.

“You’re almost there, don’t pass out now.” Turning slightly, Sakura mumbled incoherently at the sight of Sasuke holding a take out bag. “Jesus Christ, you’re dead on your feet.”

“Carry me,” Sakura grumbled.

Sighing to himself, Sasuke handed her the bag of takeout and crouched down, scooping her legs up and cradling her. “How the fuck did Karin deal with you? She’s twiggy.”

“Suigetsu was usually around or she’d drag me across the floor.” Sakura opened the bag of food and examined the contents as Sasuke set her down on the couch. “Anything I’d like in here?”

“I thought you would be sleeping, but I have some stuff you could tolerate.” He grabbed two plates and brought them to the coffee table and began to serve her some of his food. “Do you ever take a break?”

“I have a day off tomorrow technically.”

“But you’re going to go to work.” Sasuke shook his head, unruly hair swaying around his face. “Typical.”

And with that Sakura lost all desire to eat despite not having had anything to eat all day except for some bread and tastings.

“Hey, where are you? It’s getting weird just sitting here. I can order right now if you’re nearby.”

“Oh, shoot! Sasuke I’m sorry but I’m still at work.”

“Wasn't today your day off?”

So what if she was a “workaholic?” If she were a man no one would see anything wrong with how much she worked.

She knew that eventually she was going to be faced with reminders of what a shitty girlfriend she had been, but she had hoped that she would be alone as she looked back on all of the mistakes she had made.

Sasuke had forgiven her for the first missed date but once he had been stood up a second, third, fourth, fifth time he stopped making any plans for them.

“I gotta take this coat off,” Sakura mumbled, fumbling with the buttons. Sasuke reached over and helped her get free of her coat and then hung it up on the hooks by the door. If he was going to be this nice for the duration of the time they lived together, the shittier she was going to feel.

“Karin said you owned a bakery. When did that happen?” He handed her a plate full of food, much more food than Sakura would have served herself, but one look from Sasuke had her clamming up and taking the set of chopsticks he placed flat across her palm.

“A few years ago…” Sakura swallowed a bite of dumpling. “It was kind of an accident.”

Sasuke raised an eyebrow and paused in his chewing. Sakura laughed through her nose and explained to him how she had met Hinata.

She had been working at the same high end hotel she had done her apprenticeship when Hinata had been hired on the spot. The tiny, plump woman was quiet and stuttered when speaking to her coworkers because no one wanted her there.

Hinata had been hired because of her last name—the hotel being owned by the Hyūga family—with no references nor any culinary school training which was required to work at the Michelin star hotel restaurant. Due to the fact they were around the same age and because she was the newest hire, Sakura was tasked with watching over the woman. No one else would take up the responsibility thinking that Hinata would hold them back.

Sakura just couldn’t leave Hinata alone. She reminded her so much of herself when she was younger. She helped to train her during her off time and guided her through the French techniques that Sakura had been trained in.

The desire to learn and the drive was there, hidden under the fear of failure.

Sakura moved on to work at a custom cake shop where she could use more of her artistic abilities. Eventually the owner was ready to retire and was willing to sell the store to her.

She wanted to own her shop one day. It was part of her goals but brick and mortar shops were expensive. If it weren’t for Hinata’s trust fund she would never have been able to afford the shop. The two of them had kept in touch and when Sakura found out that Hinata was on her way to quitting being a pastry chef, they made plans to go into business together.

Sasuke listened to her story, never interjecting but nodding at certain intervals and slight facial shifts showing that Sakura still had his attention.

“So what have you been up to?” Sakura asked, digging through the leftover noodles in one of the cartons.

“I still work at the same shop. I moved out a few years ago. Funnily enough it was my mom that was on my case not my dad.”

“Really?” Sakura was genuinely shocked.

When she had last seen Fugaku he wasn’t the biggest supporter of Sasuke’s chosen profession. He had paid for him to go to art school, not to waste his talent working at a tattoo parlor. His mother, Mikoto, was the one that had always been his personal cheerleader.

“I think it was all of the new ink,” Sasuke gestured to his sleeve covered arms, “that really did it for my mom. She always made faces at them and commented about what kind of girl I thought I would be attracting with them.”

I always liked your tattoos. Sakura shrugged and stuffed noodles into her mouth to keep from commenting out loud.

When Sakura was just freshly eighteen and finishing her final year of high school, Sasuke was the exact kind of guy her grandmother had wanted her to stay away from. She had left money behind in her will for Sakura to attend the same school she and Sakura’s mother, Mebuki, had attended.

Our Lady of Sorrows was a Catholic private school that Sakura’s parents wouldn’t have been able to afford without the money her grandmother had left behind. She had probably hoped that Sakura would go to private school, be abstinent, go to college and then medical school and then eventually marry a doctor.

It was too bad that Sakura preferred to be in the kitchen with her father a lot more than she cared for her school. If they had let her stay in public school there may have been a better chance of her focusing on her studies and eventually going to medical school like her grandma had wanted her to. Sakura had been miserable at Our Lady of Sorrows, her only solace being Ino and baking.

And Sasuke.

Sasuke had been the kind of cliché salvation a teenage girl fantasized about. And she still couldn’t believe that at one point in their lives, she had been his.

.

.

Ino cut off the boy that usually sat at the desk in front of Sakura and slid into the seat, a manic look in her eyes. “Guess what?”

“I’m not playing this game,” Sakura laughed, completely ignoring the boy that was frowning at Ino.

“Well, fine. Be boring.” Ino huffed, blowing her bangs up and letting them flop back on her face. “But anyway so I was talking to your cousin Sasori━”

“Ino, he’s way too old for you and he’s gay. And you have a boyfriend.”

“That’s not why I was talking to your cousin, Billboard Brow.” Ino flicked Sakura’s forehead. “But anywho. So I went to visit your cousin at that parlor he’s working at now ‘cause I wanna get those piercings you wanted for your birthday━no arguments. They’re on me. We’re going after school.”

“That’s awfully generous of you.” Sakura pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at her. “Is Sasori giving you a discount?”

Ino scoffed. “I wish! That miser,” she grumbled. Ino shook her hair out and then smiled slyly at her. “But that’s not even the best part.”

Sakura rolled her eyes. Ino was really milking the big surprise. She was too impatient for this and the homeroom teacher would show up soon.

“Remember that mega hottie from the public school at the student showcase down at The Factory Art Center?”

Sakura groaned, dropping her head onto her planner. How could she forget? She was just lucky that he hadn’t seen her run straight into a wall because she had been so distracted. The only good thing that came about that was that Ino met her boyfriend Sai that day. And that the boy hadn’t noticed her accident.

It had been a student showcase for the senior students in the schools in the city and Sakura and Ino attended for extra credit. Sakura had been mindlessly looking at all of the pieces until a tall boy wearing all black with messy hair had caught her eye. She had barely heard Ino call out “Dibs!” before she ran into one of the pillars because she wasn’t paying attention to where she was walking.

Ino had given up chase and did her best friend duties by checking up on Sakura. Luckily for her, a different dark haired boy had seen the whole thing and had come over to help out and Ino got her older boyfriend anyway.

“That was almost a whole year ago. Why must you remind me that I embarrassed myself in front of like, seven different senior classes.”

“Mega hottie works at the parlor your cousin does. He’s an apprentice-slash-shop slave.”

That, Sakura hadn’t expected. She had seen his work and expected him to go off to art school and then maybe come back to The Factory Art Center to be a resident artist or for him to even switch tracks and work at Glass & Iron━he did have some lampwork and some welding work as part of his showcase.

“So what?” Sakura swallowed. The grin on Ino’s face was foreboding.

“So,” Ino reached over and played with the ends of Sakura’s long pink hair, “someone is going to take her cute butt down there and finally meet him.”

.

.

“Sakura.”

Sakura blinked at the hand that waved in front of her face. Sasuke looked down at her with concern. She looked just about ready to pass out in her noodles.

“Are you okay? You should probably get to bed.” He would just have to clean up everything on his own. And if she tried to go to work on her day off, he’d call the tiny red terror━Karin or Sakura’s cousin, Sasori━to force her to rest for once.

Sakura rubbed her eye with the back of her little fist and murmured, “I should. Thank you for the food.”

She was so small and tired, Sasuke just wanted to scoop her up and bundle her up in her blankets. But then he remembered that she would be going to her own room and he would be going to his and there were four years between now and when he was hers.

Did she still curl herself inward like a cat when she slept? Bury herself under three blankets that weighed almost as much she did?

He could help her to her room and find out. She was dead on her feet and would probably need him to keep from stumbling and running into a wall. It would be so easy to just curl his arm around her waist, pull her closer to his sturdier frame.

It would be easy, oh so easy. And that’s why Sasuke left her to her own devices.

[konako]

DO YOU HAVE ART IDEAS FOR SIDCU? I’m dying to draw more!! #because ya know i’m in the process of drawing this really sad red snow comic#and i could use some light times in between

I don’t understand. What do you mean sad Red Snow? Who would hurt their precious relationship that is healthy beyond any shadow of a doubt?

David says it’s time to take the kids on a fishing trip. So he packs Emma, Henry and Neal. But it’s a dad thing, so Snow has a long week-end off. She calls Ruby. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Friday night? Yeah, um, Granny has me working… we’re re-doing some of the rooms in the b&b, gonna… paint… walls…” “Oh, okay, maybe something on Saturday?” “Maybe.” She calls Regina next. “Friday? At night? I have a ton of paper work to do, some revisions on the budget. You know that pothole on Main Street… well, I have to wait on some numbers and will probably work late and get too tired afterwards.” “Okay, that sounds important.”

Ruby and Regina had date plans, but now they don’t dare to go outside, because Snow can’t see them! They decide to stay in at Regina’s. It’s not like it matters what they do, how about starting with the naked business right away, it’s been like two weeks (if you don’t count that one quick kiss in front of Gold’s pawn shop, right when Snow walked out and they pretended they had just bumped into each other and Regina cussing at Ruby for not looking where she’s going).

Well, so Regina and Ruby have fun. They know Henry won’t be home, there is nobody there who could bother them. When Ruby comes in there is a very long greeting. Mostly it’s Regina getting pushed against the wall and held in place. When Ruby gets too feisty she teleports to the bedroom and… yeah, they have fun there. Doesn’t matter that the food is getting cold.

Ruby runs downstairs to pick that up after some… they need more energy, okay?! Running naked through Regina’s house is kinda fun though. She tells Regina who is like “you’re a kinky woman”. And they get childish, because ten minutes later they both run to the kitchen to get something to drink and it becomes a round of catch, even though it’s unclear who could even lose.

Now, Ruby keeps the lights off of course. Regina cries foul to that. But she can manage with a little spell for a tiny light ball instead of a flashlight.

So. Snow. She couldn’t find anybody for a Friday night date. Why is everybody busy with husbands or work? Ugh. She goes for a walk. And then she passes Regina’s house. And that’s odd. There is a light on in the bedroom. And somebody is clearly walking around in there. There! Light moving! She moves closer and definitely hears furniture getting moved. (She can’t know that Ruby tried to jump over the dining table to get to Regina and took down the chairs instead. Regina is appalled. Ruby grabs the table cloth she uses as a toga now.)

A ROBBERY!! Somebody broke into Regina’s house and is robbing the place! Oh no, but David and Emma aren’t even here. The sheriffs are gone! What is Snow supposed to do?? She gets her phone out. In her head she can hear David’s voice “Do not engage, you should call for help.” Snow nods to herself. “Got it, I’m here to help.” She picks up a garden gnome as a weapon (it’s a hideous gnome, Regina hates it, it’s why Emma gifted it to her) and then tries to find her way in.

By now Ruby is pinning Regina to the ground (there’s a theme tonight), thigh between her legs, growling. “Madam Mayor, your time is-” A pause. She looks up. There was the sound of a door. She sniffs (very Wolverine of her). Eyes widen in horror. “Snow is here!” And right this moment Snow has found the silhouette of the presumable robber, flings herself at it. Regina has time to poof away.

Now Snow straddles Ruby, gnome over her head about to strike. “Snow!” *blink blink* “Ruby???” Regina - now wearing her clothes, but her face still flush and anybody who would pay a minimum attention would notice the swollen lips, the horny radiance, the disheveled hair - comes in, flips on the light switch. “What is going on here?”

Snow looks between the two, slowly putting down the gnome. “I was about to ask the same.” - “This is my house.” “You said you’d be working late.” - “It was faster than I expected.” Snow looks back to Ruby. “What are you doing here? And why are you practically naked? What about the renovation?” - “My clothes… are dirty… spilled paint all over myself.” “But why are you here?” - “Regina came by… because…..” “The street in front of the b&b is part of the budget issue. So.. I went there.” “Right, she came in and saw me… painting… and had some work to do here… and… asked… for help…” “So you went home with Regina, painted some wall here and had an accident with the paint?” Both: “Exactly!”

Regina looks around. Well, the upstairs hallway was something she wanted to re.do for a while. One flick of the wrist and now there’s a wall covered in wet paint.

“I think the dryer must be almost done, Miss Lucas. Thanks for your patience.”

“No problem. I’m just sorry I was so clumsy. And again. Here in the dining room. I should’ve switched on the light. Get too comfortable walking in the dark.”

Snow blinks. Looking from one to the other again. She stands up, lending Ruby a hand. “I thought somebody was robbing your house!”

“And thank you for trying to catch the thieves.”

Ruby and Snow leave together fifteen minutes later. “It was nice of you to do that for her. I just don’t understand why she didn’t just magically renovate her place.”

“I think she’s trying this thing where she relies less on magic. And also asking for help more.”

“Makes sense.” Snow interlinks her arm with Ruby’s. “Your a good friend, Red. Glad you two are getting along a bit more.”

“Yeah, Regina’s alright…”

“I’m thinking about girls night tomorrow, you two have to come.”

Ruby smiles, but screams in her head ‘coming was the plan for tonight………’

[outerbankspreferences]

50 Wordless ways to say I Love You - Drew Starkey

WORD COUNT: 1380

MASTERLIST SERIES MASTERLIST

#12.  Following their family traditions that they enjoy.

It was a week before Christmas and both you and Drew had no idea what you were doing. You had discussed going to his parent’s place and spending the holidays with. You couldn’t go home for Christmas this because the Canadian and USA border was closed, and you were from Canada.

You were really upset about because you had never spent a Christmas where you couldn’t see your family. You were super close with your mom and broke your heart not to see her. Drew had caught you crying about it the other day.

  He had come home from filming and you were sitting on the couch crying. He didn’t really know what to do at first. Drew hadn’t put two and two together yet. “Hey baby, what’s wrong?” He asked coming to sit next to you. He scooped you up in his arms and you snuggled into his chest letting out another round of sobs.

  When he finally got you calmed down you explained to him what was going, and he felt terrible. He had spent Christmas by himself a couple of times and it upset him. He tried to suggest you facetime them on Christmas, and you could plan a trip once they got things figured out with self-isolating. “How about we got take a shower love, it’ll make you feel better.” He suggested, knowing that they always made you feel better. “Okay, I’ll go get some towels, will you start the shower?”

  The two of you got in the shower, and Drew washed your hair for you. You leaned against him, humming at how nice it felt to just wash away the worry even it was only for a little while. Drew figured it was better to not say anything during the shower, just to be there for you. You were always there for him, never questioning it and it was his turn to be there for you.

  Once you guys got out of the shower, he threw some blankets in the dryer to warm up and then put a movie on for the two of you to watch. It was what you needed, a calm night where you didn’t have to be overwhelmed. You were so tired that you fell asleep half through the movie, but Drew didn’t move you not wanting to wake you up just yet.

  Drew had texted your mom while you were sleeping, apologizing for not getting home this year. He explained that you were pretty upset, and he didn’t really know what to do for you. Your mother suggested that maybe you guys do some of the traditions that you did growing up. One of your favorite things was on Christmas morning your mom would make cinnamon buns for breakfast.

  You had spent the rest of the week moping around the apartment not really in the holiday spirit. You would go to work and then come home, avoiding anything Christmas related. You felt for doing this, because it was unfair to Drew, he loved this time of year, but you couldn’t get into it. You guys decided to spend a couple of days with his family.

  You guys boarded the plan with your masks and lots of hand sanitizer. Drew picked out a good place list and honestly it wasn’t a long flight, but you didn’t really enjoy flying anyways. You guys listened to music the whole way and talked about your plans for when you got to his parents. “So, I think Brooke and Logan are already there. But I don’t know Mackayla is going to be home.” He said looking at you. “Do you remember to pack the gifts? Because I don’t know if I grabbed that bag when I left.” You questioned him, “yeah I got it, and I locked the door because you also forgot to do that.” He said laughing at you.

  It was Christmas Eve, and it was the first time you had been enjoying yourself. You were looking at old Christmas photos of Drew, and he was explaining the stories behind them. You, Logan, and Brooke were laughing about the time Drew lost a tooth after a skating trip and had to take a picture with Santa with his teeth missing. “Oh god, don’t worry love, you still looked cute!” You said laughing.

  “Are you guys laughing about something stupid Drew did?” You guys look up to see Mackayla there, dropping her coat off. “Late as normal.” Logan nudged your elbow, making you giggle. “I prefer fashionably late you idiot.” She said throwing her hat at him. You guys go back to looking through photos, when Brooke piped up “what kind of stuff did you do at Christmas Y/N/N?” Drew gave her a dirty look; he had messaged them before to not say anything about Christmas with your family because it would just upset you.

  You hadn’t really thought about it all that much. “I don’t know the normal, I guess. My parents would let us open one gift on Christmas Eve, which was normally a small toy to keep us busy while we went to visit people. We grew up in one of the bigger houses, so my mom would lay all this food out for everyone.” You explained, kind of upset that you weren’t there to enjoy it. “And then New Year’s Day they do this thing called a Polar Dip, you raise money for a charity and then jump into freezing cold lake. It was the best way to cure a hangover” You said, “Seems like a typical Canadian thing” Logan said, “sounds like fun though, did you ever do it?” He asked. “No, my brother did one year, but I hate the cold, that’s why I moved to LA.” You explained.

  You guys continued talking and you got to meet some more of Drew’s family who would stop by. Once you and Drew finally went to bed you were laying there talking. “I know this isn’t the best holidays for you but I’m glad you here. I wouldn’t want to spend Christmas with anyone else.” He is kissing you. “I’m glad I’m here and not moping around the apartment, thanks for letting me come.” You replied kissing him back. You climb onto his lap slowing kissing down his neck, grinding down on him. He moaned into your shoulder “babe, my parents are down the hall, and you suck at being quiet.” He said, you groan, feeling in the mood to have him, but laying back down instead.

  You woke up Christmas morning to the smell of breakfast, and a snoring Drew in your ear. You smiled, looking over at your boyfriend. You were so happy that you got to be with someone like him. “Drew, wake up.” You whisper nudging him a little. “Y/N we’re not children, we don’t need to be up early on Christmas.” He spoke his eyes still closed. “I can smell food, and I’m hungry.” You whine, “well go and get food, then come back. My mom is probably making breakfast.” He said letting go of you.

  You walk downstairs to see his mom and sister Brooke in the kitchen. “Morning sleepy head, where’s Drew?” His mom asked. “Oh, still in bed. You know him, not much of a morning person.” You laughed to yourself. You look at what their making and you see cinnamon buns, you smile thinking about making them with your own family. “Me and my mom always make cinnamon buns too.” You said to them. “Yeah, that’s why we made them, Drew said he was talking to your mom about it. We felt so bad for you, we wanted to do something you might like too.” You were almost crying; you went over and hugged both. “Thank you so much, it does suck not being able to see them, but you guys have definitely made up for it!” You ran back upstairs, jumping onto the bed you shared with Drew. You lean down and kiss him “what was that for?” He asked pulling away opening his eyes. “Just for being the best boyfriend ever.” You said snuggling back into bed with him. “You forgot to bring food back with you.”

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