#but i do think pat will make a joking death threat here and there

[airenyah]

you know how pat and wai can't stand each other at first but ultimately end up friends through pat's relationship with pran? and like, esp in ep12 and the our skyy special we can see that they do genuinely like each other

well, i'd like to think that while they are genuinely friends... i'd like to think that they have a little joking hostility going on once wai and pa start dating. not in the way they couldn't stand each other pre pat getting shot, but in a protecitve older brother vs boyfriend kind of way. where pat will be all "don't you DARE hurt my little sister", you know?

[breadbrobin]

campfire games

luke castellan x reader - percy jackson and the olympians

[established relationship, fem!daughter of ares reader]

summary: bets are fun, until they aren’t. you’re fine though. luke knows you’re an absolute badass.

warning: pushy male behaviour, suggestive comments, swearing, bets, threats, assault (physical), sexual harassment.

word count: 1.6k

(help i’m writing too many of these but this is the only other good one also feel free to leave requests yall i’m on summer break i have so much time and need something to do 🤩🤩)

(also i am still in love with luke castellan thank you very much I CAN FIX HIM PLSSSS)

(also very sorry to anyone named andrew it was the first name i thought of)

——————————————————

there wasn’t much that your siblings in the ares cabin liked more than winning capture the flag, but watching you tear down another boys’ ego was definitely one of those few things.

campfires were great for many reasons. singing, marshmallows, games—and bets. when chiron and mr d. turned in for the night early, something that rarely happened, the bets would come out. guys would try and talk to you, your siblings would intercept them, find out what they wanted, then place bets among themselves and with other campers as to how long it would take you to tear them down a few notches, or, on occasion, tear them a new one.

clarisse patted your shoulder as two of your brothers talked to another camper. “incoming.”

“details?” you picked at the chipped red polish of your fingernails.

“son of apollo. been here for about two months. andrew. something about wanting to go on a date with you and thinking you’re prettier than the aphrodite girls.” she rolled her eyes. “he tried it on with me before and doesn’t like taking no for an answer, so break his spirit completely. or, you know, his bones.”

you saluted her teasingly. “yes, ma’am. you can count on me, sergeant.”

she patted your shoulder again with a joking grin. “good on you, private. godspeed.”

with that, she left you sitting alone.

well, not really alone.

luke castellan had somehow ended up as your bodyguard in all of these cases. probably something to do with the fact that you’d been dating in secret for the last three months. you weren’t a huge fan of keeping your relationship a secret, but when you’d told clarisse, she told you that her and your other siblings wanted to keep making easy money, and betting on me was the best way to do that. since everyone thought you and luke hated each other anyway, it was easy enough to keep it up, but as your mocking remarks turned to teasing, then to flirting, it was getting more and more difficult. and as he was getting more attractive each day, it was getting harder not to kiss him in front of everyone at camp.

you swivelled in your seat to look up at him. he was sitting three rows back, almost hidden in the darkness, a distinctly put out look on his face.

“you hear that?” you asked with raised eyebrows and a grin on your face. “he thinks i’m prettier than the aphrodite girls. when have you ever said that?”

“i told you you’re prettier than a model one time and you punched me,” he said dryly. “and then i said you look like a goddess while fighting and you punched me again.”

“in my defence, i did hate you at the time.” you shrugged. “got my back?”

“always.” he said seriously.

you grinned and winked at him as you turned around, waiting for the newest idiot to come annoy you.

luke had, once upon a time, been one of those idiots in your mind. he irritated you to no end. he was better than you at sword fighting, so you bested him at everything else. he was more popular than you, so you became one of the most well-liked people at camp. all of your attempts to break him down, however, only made him fall in love with you. now, there you were, wishing you could be sitting beside him instead of waiting for some loser to come annoy you to death.

“y/n, hey.” andrew said, sitting next to you, probably a little too close.

you looked over at him. “andrew, right?”

he nodded, his smile widening as you knew his name.

you sat up straighter and scrutinised him, looking him up and down. “yeah, you look like an andrew.”

you heard luke hide a laugh in his cup behind you.

andrew’s face fell a little, but he regained it quickly. “heard you were one of the best fighters in camp.”

“i am.”

“that’s pretty cool. i mean, i can help you become the best if you want.”

“no, i think i’m okay.”

“come on, i mean, everyone needs to improve. even the self-proclaimed best. bet i’m better at archery than you at least.”

you looked over at his smirk and had to stop yourself from smirking too. this would be too easy. “no. thanks, though. i’m good on my own. one of the best, remember.”

“you could be better. we should have a little challenge. a game.”

“i only play games with people i like.”

“you could like me.” he leaned a little closer. you leaned away slightly. “i bet i could make you like me.”

you had to stop yourself from laughing. “yeah, i don’t think so, buddy.”

‘buddy’ was usually all it took to break a man’s ego. you’d used it on luke many times during unusually flirtatious sparring, back when you still pretended to hate his guts. it didn’t work on him anymore, but it usually worked perfectly on everyone else.

andrew didn’t falter. “i bet i could. give me a chance. let me take on a date. show you a good time.”

“no, thanks,” you said calmly. your siblings were watching intently. clarisse looked ready to step in if you needed it. you wondered what he’d said or done to her to put her on edge. then you realised it wasn’t what he’d done to her. it was what he was about to do to you.

his hand was on your thigh, gripping onto the bare skin by the hem of your shorts.

his hand was on your thigh.

gross.

you looked up at him, eyes sharp. you could hear luke shifting slightly behind you. “what are you doing?” you voice was deathly calm.

“showing you that i can show you a good time, princess.” his voice oozed honey—sickly sweet and sticky, like a fly trap. good thing you hated honey.

“how about i show you how many bones there are in the hand? by breaking every single one.” your voice was equally as saccharine sweet, but your eyes were glaring daggers into his and your jaw was set tight.

he just shifted his hand higher. you tried to push him off but he was strong. annoyingly strong.

he tutted. “come on, sweetheart. you’re gonna make a scene.”

you finally managed to peel his hand off your skin. “i’ll make a scene, alright. get off me and leave me alone. and while you’re at it, leave my sister alone too.”

he raised his hands, a sickening, sleazy smirk on his face. “i was just being nice, princess. you and your sister need to relax. you especially. i can help you relax.”

“oh, i’d love that. you know how i relax?” you tilted your head mockingly, eyes hard. “i punch my enemies in the face.”

he laughed. “you’re cute. now, come on. it’s not like you’ve got anything going for yourself. i mean, you’re hot, sure, but no guys ever gonna look at you when they realise how much of a bitch you are. not like i will.”

you rolled your eyes and stood up. it was time to go and sit by luke. it grated at you, but if he wouldn’t listen to you, maybe he’d listen to another guy.

he didn’t let you leave. his hand gripped your wrist and pulled you back to him as he stood up too. you were chest to chest with him. he towered over you, at least six inches taller. you stepped back, but he pulled you in by your waist and laughed.

“look at how good we look together,” he smirked. “i could show you—“

you punched him in the stomach. he doubled over, finally letting you go, so you kneed his diaphragm. he gasped for air as you stepped back. your friend chris rodriguez whistled appreciatively.

“touch me, or anyone here, ever again and i won’t just hurt you.” you hissed at him. “i’ll beat your ass, then i’ll drag you past the boundary and leave you for the monsters. got it?”

he nodded, still hunched over.

“good boy,” you grit out.

“fucking bitch,” he grunted.

your eyes darkened, but you didn’t do anything. your siblings were right behind him, all ready to drag him away. “good luck walking tomorrow, andrew.”

“good luck finding a guy stupid enough to fuck you,” he scorned.

you laughed. “hey, luke?”

“yeah, babe?” he stepped down beside you, his hand settling on your hip and pulling you gently into his side. andrew faltered at the sight. he probably hadn’t even realised luke was up there.

“are you stupid enough to fuck me?” you asked with raised eyebrows.

he looked like he was trying not to laugh. “oh, i’m way past stupid.”

you didn’t care about any of your sibling’s bets anymore. you didn’t care that people thought you hated each other. you especially didn’t care that everyone was watching. you kissed him. and in front of the whole camp, he kissed you back.

your siblings groaned in disappointment, knowing their betting days were over, but you didn’t care. you smiled the stupidest smile ever as you pulled away, feeling like you’d just had your first kiss all over again.

“what?” he asked quietly.

“nothing.” you shook your head. “just glad we don’t have to hide anymore.”

after months of kissing behind buildings, pretending to fight in public and avoiding each other so people wouldn’t find out, it felt honestly freeing to kiss him in the open.

he kissed you again as your siblings dragged andrew away. “and all it took was an asshole.”

“thanks for not stepping in,” you said. “i had it handled.”

“oh, i know you did. i was more than happy to watch you destroy his ego.”

“good, because if you had stepped in—“

“i’d be going home in an ambulance?” he smiled.

“no, you’d be going home in a hearse.”

“ah, my bad.”

as the campfire kept burning, you sat down with luke. your legs were pressed against his and his arm was around your waist. there wasn’t much that you liked more than tearing boy’s egos down, but being with luke castellan was definitely one of those few things.

[bingoboingobongo]

Hey, don't know if you want more requests but here's this. Task force 141 reacting to their daughter grumpily trudging up to them saying some boy at their school won't take no for and answer and "apparently you're scarier than I am so could you please make him go away?" They're just bitter that their dad is more intimidating.

task force 141 + protecting their daughters

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, John Price, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

Warnings: none

A/N: hmmm i don't normally like writing family au's but in the spirit of growth here we are (and it's not so bad lol)

simon "ghost" riley:

okay so i don't think it's a surprise that if simon found out some guy was harassing his kid at school he would flip out

are we surprised that simon is a super protective dad?

no. not at all.

you would probably have to physically stop him from trying to find out everything about the harasser so he could go beat him up

because lord knows if left unattended he would do exactly that

he has his own experience with people taunting and harassing him as a child and simon wants his kid's childhood to be polar opposites with his own

and this annoying boy at school is a threat to that

and simon's literally been trained to take out threats guys let's be fr

after he manages to cool down he ends up going to pick up his daughter from school and he has her point out who the guy who's giving her trouble is

he doesn't even have to say anything because as soon as this little snot sees ur kid pointing at him with simon staring daggers at him he's two seconds away from peeing his pants

and it's for good reason too because keep in mind this is like a 3'2 child (i don't actually know how tall children are) compared to a 6'4, probably over 200 pounds of muscle, simon with a death glare that's sent shivers down grown men's backs

i mean this kid has no chance sorry dude

definitely turns around and immediately sprints away

and what do you know the next day the snot-nosed turd doesn't even look at your kid except for terrified peeks in her direction

but you know simon still wishes he got to talk with (re: beat up) the kid

john "soap" mactavish:

alright so soap tries to solve things with humor so when he finds out some turd is harassing his daughter the first thing he does is try to make her feel better with some jokes

"geez that kid's a real idiot, how'd he pass first grade?"

"don't let it affect you, sweets, you're too good to be worried about someone who spends 90% of their brainpower on stupid things."

basically soap will trash talk this kid

and yk what same so i can't even blame him

when his daughter asks soap to deal with the kid, he definitely pats her on the back and says something like "i'll see what i can do" and then takes her out for ice cream

soap desperately wants to be the favorite parent so he's hesitant about going all "this kid must be stopped and i will do anything to ensure justice is served" in front of his daughter

definitely calls the school to get a better read on what's going on and then goes to talk to the parents themselves

and unfortunately soap doesn't exactly have ghost's height to help him intimidate people but one thing soap does have is massive muscles

that being said he doesn't want to go full intimidation mode so he tries to breach the topic lightly with the parents

but he will put his foot down if needed

he also insists on talking to the kid and when he does you know he threatens him in the nicest also most vaguest way possible to try and protect himself from any guilt

and although his methods may be questionable they work because the next day the snot-nosed turd apologizes to his daughter

kyle "gaz" garrick:

alright so honestly i can see gaz as the kind of parent who preaches being kind and talking things out

but he's also definitely ready to throw hands if some loser is harassing his kid

now unfortunately for gaz he is not very intimidating

i mean he's tall but other than that there's not much

what can i say he has too many pretty genes to look intimidating

definitely will threaten the kid with a smile on his face though

like he's the kind of guy to sorta smile through it and pretend he's having a great time but his words are saying something else

like once he finds out he'll make his daughter show him who the loser is while he walks her to school

and then he'll pull him aside and tell him that he needs to stop talking to his daughter or else it's not gonna be pretty

and even though there's a smile on his face there's something unsettling about it that has the boy unnerved

and so that day at school he's definitely trying to avoid her

and after that he stops being a problem

john price:

alright price is a certified dilf and he's also super duper protective

especially over his daughter

as soon as hears that someone is harassing her he is seeing red

unlike simon though there's no threat of him doing something rash

definitely will have to go outside and smoke a cigar though

he'll ask his daughter who the guy who's harassing her is and will then find out where he lives

and he'll ask you to talk your daughter out for ice cream and a movie and while you're gone he goes to pay the harasser a little visit

i mean when it comes to protecting his daughter price is stone cold

i mean he is more than ready to threaten this kid if he even dares to look in her direction

and he will make sure the kid knows he's serious about it too

and price will only say things once so god forbid the kid doesn't learn his lesson

if so then um

the kids gonna miss a lot of school is all im gonna say

will then pick you guys up from ice cream and a movie and ask how it was

and will tell his daughter that everything's taken care of and to let him know if the kid tries anything again

and then the next day the kid literally refuses to look at your daughter

so mission accomplished

alejandro vargas:

alright so honestly i feel like alejandro is lowkey really intimidating

like idk it's that one smile he does that's sorta unsettling if you're not viewing it through a "omg he's so hot he's my babygirl i love him" lense

so to kids he can be scary when he wants to

when he finds out someone is harassing his daughter he absolutely flips out

one thing about alejandro is he definitely has a short fuse when it comes to people disrespecting stuff he cares about

also with the cartel and stuff he's very very concerned about his daughter's well-being and how she grows up

he wants to keep her seperate from all the violence of his workplace as long as possible so he tries to keep his cool in front of her

but it's pretty obvious how mad he is (as he should)

he makes his daughter point out who the kid is the next time he picks her up from school and then tells her to wait in the car while he deals with him

since it's in public he can't really do anything drastic but he can still be really scary

like he is not afraid to show this kid a glimpse of a gun to let him know that he means business

and maybe it's kinda sadistic but he wants this kid to be wetting his pants as retribution for what he did to his daughter

and you know what it worked because when alejandro returns the car he gives her a kiss on the top of her head, tells her he's proud of her for talking to him about this, and then drives away before she can see the kid crying with a wet spot on his pants

rodolfo "rudy" parra:

ok you guys know i love rudy but we have to face the facts

he just simply is not intimidating

i mean have you seen that clip of him yelling "special forces!" as he breaches that house in texas?

im sorry but he's just too cute it doesn't work out

but just because he's not intimidated doesn't mean he can't deal with his kid's problems

he absolutely loves his daughter and wants the best for her so when he finds out someone's harassing her he's less mad and more sad that she's going through this

he definitely will make sure she is okay at first and then take her on a day out just to make sure she's happy

and then he'll speak to her teacher to try and get a better feel of what's going on

at first he would probably let the teacher handle it because unlike some of the others he's on the fence about threatening a kid

but if the teacher proves to be incapable then he will take things into his own hands

he'll pull the kid aside and try and tell him nicely to back off and stop harassing his daughter

and if that still doesn't work then the serious voice comes out and you can just tell he's ready to throw hands

which honestly is kind of intimidating in and of itself because it's such a contrast to his normal behavior

and then the next day the kid apologized and then spent the rest of the year giving his daughter plenty of space

[ilovespec]

"Russian cold weather"

[ Yandere ! Fem ! gangster - stalker × Fem ! psychologist reader . ] part I

Words : 550

short description : you are quietly working as a psychologist, but after the appearance of one patient, your life has changed dramatically.

TW : mention of drugs , mention of drug poisoning , mention of the manufacture of poison and drugs , mention of self harm , unstable behavior , mention of drug murder , threats .

Her appearance.

You're sitting quietly in your office because you're a psychologist. And your new ward should be coming to you soon. And according to the rumors, she is the left hand of the local crime boss in your city. But rumors are rumors . It is better to know the truth yourself than to shake with unsubstantiated facts. And after a couple of minutes, there was a knock on your door and a girl came in. Sickly pale skin , thin build , black bandage hiding the right eye , brown , thick and curly short hair gathered in a low ponytail .. A large number of scars? Her height is above average. And she looks cold and distant. With a slight nod of greeting, she entered your office and sat down on the chair in front of you.

"what has been bothering you lately, miss?- "

" nothing. The boss made me come here at all. "

Hmm... So the rumors may have turned out to be true..? But maybe it's the boss at work. Not what you think.

"Well... Then can you explain where these scars come from?"

And you point to the scars on her hands and face.

" Ah...? On the hands I made myself. Because I didn't know how to vent all the negativity. And on the face from fights. "

She explained in a calm and cold tone. And you were sitting in your seat in shock. Did she make these scars on her own hands...? Fights...?? And she, seeing your face, calmly grinned.

" Doctor Y/N. My name is Zlatoslava Orlovskaya. But you can just call me Zlata, huh. "

Now it's clear why she has that Russian accent in her voice.. She is Russian herself. And it's only now that you've taken a closer look at her eyes... They are yellow in color. You raised your eyebrows slightly because of this, and continued to ask her questions.

"Well... And what do you do in life? How do you earn money?

" What am I doing..? I make new poisons and drugs in my spare time. And I earn my living by poisoning to death or the vegetable state of the people who are ordered to me. "

You laughed nervously, thinking it was a joke, but judging by her serious face, she was telling the truth. And you were the only one who wanted to discreetly turn on the dictaphone on your phone, but how the cold muzzle of a gun pressed against your forehead.

"I think this is not a very good decision on your part. Therefore, it is better not to write it down and do not tell anyone. Otherwise, this bullet will end up in your cute little head, or arsenic will be in your every meal and drink, and you won't even guess about it.. "

You recoiled in shock and fright , your chair tilted back and eventually you fell to the floor . When she loomed over you , you covered your head with your hands , and she just ... Gently...? She pushed them away and patted you on the head with a laugh .

"Hahaha! Sorry - sorry Doctor Y/N! I wanted to see your sweet, scared face too much. But seriously, remember my words. "

Then she turned around, and when she left your office, she put the gun back in her pocket and left saying that she would return for the next session...

[iron-hearts-ablaze]

"Hmm, I apologize. I was just thinking. Lost in thought, as usual. About the threat, the orb. Knowing how I could have ended this chaos so long ago and yet I didn't. I failed my goddess in her one request, but there's still a chance for redemption." His hand reached to his chest to pat where the orb would lie, all that power, the destruction. "I could please her just once more."

"With a few words, I could release the power of the orb and destroy the Absolute and the entirety of Baldur's Gate with it. Surely death is preferable compared to the life of a mindflayer? I must do this, there's nothing you can say to persuade me."

A hint of a sinister smile played on his lips following the threat. This was no smile of Gale's…

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Orin wanted him awake. Paralyzed, unable to cry for help as she dragged away his limp body, eyes desperately screaming for Karlach to wake and stop this. Yet, she remained in a peaceful slumber, they all remained asleep whilst he was lugged from the camp to the depth of the undercity.

That happened almost a tenday ago.

Something had not felt right for many days now. The rest of the fellowship thought her paranoid, but something was terribly wrong with Gale. Karlach and he had something a bit deeper than they had with the others. Able to speak on a level they couldn't comprehend. Not that it was their fault, and they weren't shut out, it was just how things fell. With that in mind, Karlach was able to notice small things the others could not. They didn't see how he seemed to take a lot longer reading nowadays, he was usually such a faster reader now he seemed to drawl over pages - as if he was elsewhere. Small inside jokes between the two of them began to be one-sided. His ramblings seemed less passionate.

Karlach's face twisted into that of disgust. This was not Gale. Yes, he had struggled with these thoughts before, but he had been doing better. He seemed nervous, but more hopeful of the future. It could be a setback, of course, so she was about to look a fool if he was relapsing. But she could no longer ignore her gut. He would hopefully forgive her transgression if Gale turned out to be real...

Karlach grabbed 'Gale' by the robes and pulled him up to her face, barely an inch between them as she sneered down at him. A growl in her throat, her breath so hot from brewing anger it was almost a flame in and of itself.

"Who the fuck are you? Where is Gale? If anything has happened to him, I will make you wish you were in his place instead of stuck here with me..."

[super-unpredictable98]

Head First (Robert Sheehan RPF)

Word Count: 1k

Warning: strong language

a/n: Okay then, the time comes for my first RPF... I decided to write something fluffy, totally silly and simple, and mostly something you could all relate to, tried to make it so everyone can see themselves. Hope it works lol

(Masterlist)

It all started with that interview. You were PMSing hard and your cramps were killing you.

"Sorry, I'm not gonna bother you during your press day," you mumbled on your way to the kitchen. "I'm just getting some paracetamol and a heating pad. I'll be out of your hair."

"Hey, you still hurting?" Rob asked with a worried frown.

"Yeah, this month is kicking my ass. I think I'm gonna take a nap."

"C'mere," he said, patting his thigh. "I'll warm you up."

"But the interview..." You looked at the laptop prepped on a pile of books on the coffee table. The press for the new season of Umbrella Academy was about to start and your relationship was still not public, so your plan was to stay in the bedroom the whole time preferably quiet.

"Don't worry about that, just lay down over here and take your nap, nobody will even see you," he assured.

The fact that he wanted to stay close to you at that time meant a lot and you simply couldn't resist.

So you slept for about an hour while he answered the questions and played games, all while gently running his fingers through your hair and rubbing your lower stomach. It was all going well until a sudden sound woke you up, and still disoriented, you lifted your head.

"What's wrong?" You murmured.

"Nothing, love, it's okay," Robert stoked your back and you settled back down.

"Who's there with you?" The interviewer asked with a chuckle.

"It's my girlfriend, she wasn't feeling so well and I couldn't leave her alone."

"Is y/n okay?" Tom asked.

"Yeah, she just needs to rest."

And that was it. All hell breaks loose online after that five second interaction. Even if your boyfriend assured you there was nothing to worry about and you didn't 'ruin' anything, you still had a horrible feeling about that.

Later that week while Robert cooked dinner, you were taking a quick look at Tumblr. It had been a while since you posted anything or checked your dash, and oh man... It was filled with opinions. Both good and bad, but everyone had something to say.

The gifs from the interview, more specifically the moment where your head is visible were spreading like wildfire. Pictures pinpointing every detail of your forehead and eyebrows, memes, and people had already reached your Instagram.

Luckily your name on Tumblr was just a random witty joke, so no one knew you were there, but the comments on your pictures and new followers were starting to fill your notifications prompting you to private your account, not to mention all the tweets and even some tiktoks.

It was overwhelming, to say the least. A little scary taking into consideration that some people were somewhat upset. There were no death threats (yet), but there were enough remarks about your looks, your age, your weight, and your voice to leave you uneasy. Most people were nice, but the ones who weren't were always louder and the first ones to show up.

Didn't know Robert was doing charity work

Man needs glasses LMAAO

She must have a great personality...

One particular Tumblr thread caught your attention. It was someone you knew from your time as an avid consumer and creator of the hillsite.

Essentially, the thread was a passive-aggressive rant about how you were not his type but it was so sweet and kind of him to give someone like you a chance, mentioning that you were probably faking not feeling well just to mark your territory by showing up seemingly accidentally.

"Y/n is the one dating him, you just sound jealous," you murmured to yourself as you typed that response. "At the end of the day, who's there? The ugly bitch you despise so much."

Okay, that wasn't your proudest moment. Your emotions got the best of you and you just wanted to fight back and make this person feel bad like they did to you.

"What's wrong, darling?" Rob asked, noticing how quiet you were.

As he closed the oven and made his way to the couch, you immediately shut the computer. He had no idea you had that account from years ago and you hoped he would never find out.

"Nothing," you smiled, opening your arms to embrace him.

"I know you, c'mon, spit it out," he chuckled, tickling your sides. "You can tell me anything, you know that, right?"

"It's nothing serious, just your fans are kinda tearing me a new one right now," you laughed, trying to make it seem like you didn't care. "Some of them anyway."

"Oh, I see," Robert nodded. "Hey, I'm sorry some people are giving you a hard time just for being with me. I love you, no one's opinion is ever gonna change that, but reading that shit is just gonna make you spiral."

You wanted to be as relaxed as he was, the world could be on fire and he would take it as an opportunity to make s'mores. Usually you were good at letting things go, but being a target like that was very hard to ignore.

"I know, I shouldn't be wasting my time with this, but-"

"But you're curious, aren'tcha? Why would you care what a handful of dickheads has to say?" He smirked knowingly. "Believe me. This is one day for you, about 20 years for me. Just trust me on this, okay? Dinner's almost ready."

"I'll try..." You said, already reaching for your phone to check your notifications.

"Nonono, give it to me," Robert snatched it from your hand and held it up in the air, way too high for you to reach. "I made your favorite, we're gonna eat and talk and forget this social media hell. This is why I don't like this shit."

"But, Rob-"

"No buts," he insisted, stealing a kiss. "If you wanna read something so bad, read my manuscript and tell me what you think before I send it to my editor. Either that or I'll have to keep you distracted in other ways."

"Hmmm... Yeah, that might not be so bad."

**

Tag List:@seanfalco​ @salvador-daley

[soulmate-game]

Hawkmoth was a bitch, and Marinette meant that with every fiber of her soul. Fu was also a bitch, and Marinette actually had good memories of the guy. Not many, but she had some. The fact that the guy got two ten-year-olds to become super heroes and fight a supervillain for him kinda soured those memories, though. But with Chat Noir not allowed to leave his house? Yeah, even as young as they were it only took about a year to find out who HawkMoth was and another year to take him down.

Except, that left Marinette alone. The final battle took her mom away, and Chat had to move out of Paris after his dad was arrested. Luckily Jagged allowed her and her papa to move into his house in Gotham, and everything was…

Well, it was okay. For about a month.

Then her dad was gone too, and she had no way to talk to Jagged, and the police were scaring her—

Yeah, that was the basic order of events that led to where she was now. Pushing fourteen years old, ex-superhero, protector of a magical box of gods, stealing the tires off of a very nice motorcycle.

Marinette was tempted to just take the whole thing, she loved bikes and knew she could drive it. But the thing had more security than she knew what to do with, and the fact that it belonged to Red Hood… she didn’t want to deal with trackers today, thanks. So the tires it was.

Should she maybe care more about the fact that she was stealing from a vigilante with a violent streak? Maybe. Did she? Hell no. For all she knew, maybe Red Hood was a bitch too. (Yes, she was still learning English slang. She was fluent by educational standards, but learning how to curse in a foreign language was fun and she still had a little bit to go. Her few street friends were very happy to help).

A shadow dropped down in front of her, and Marinette’s hero instincts kicked in. The tire iron she was using cut through the air, slamming right into the side of Red Hood’s knee.

—*—*—*—*—*

“Hood,” Batman’s voice grumbled over the comms, instantly grabbing the attention of everyone else who was on the comms. It wasn’t as gruff as he usually sounded, in fact it almost sounded like… he was trying not to laugh?

“Did you get gassed by Joker?” Dick asked before Jason got a chance to respond. “Need backup?”

“No,” Batman responded, sounding a little more composed. “Not a rogue. But Hood, I need you to join me at my location as soon as possible.”

Finally getting the chance to talk, Jason responded a little warily; “Sure, B. Wait,” he blinked at the location that was sent to him. “Isn’t that where my bike is parked?”

Batman didn’t respond at first, only the sound of labored breathing— again, as if he was trying not to laugh. “Just get here, Hood.”

Sighing, but not too mad since the night had been fairly quiet so far, Jason decided to humor the old man and head over. When he could see the cape-clad back of Batman, he easily leapt over the last roof and sauntered over.

“Okay, B,” he had his thumbs tucked in his pockets as he drawled. “What’s the issue?”

Batman was grinning. As in, actually showing amusement. And he just pointed down, straight at Hood’s bike.

Jason rolled his eyes under his helmet, turning to look. At first he didn’t see anything amiss, until he saw movement and looked harder. Oh. Oh, holy shit.

“Is that a kid?”

“Yep,” Batman’s grin grew.

“Is she… stealing my tires?” Hood was so, so glad he wore a helmet that hid his expression. Because… wow.

“Yep,” Batman finally lost his composure, chuckling. “This seems like Karma, don’t you think?”

“And you just watched her so you could rub it in,” Jason groaned, throwing his head back in exasperation. Of course he would. Nobody knew it (except the other heroes who knew him) but Batman was a petty little jerk when he wanted to be. He bought the whole Daily Planet just to spite Clark, for crying out loud.

“Don’t adopt her,” Batman said as he stood up, patting Red Hood’s shoulder. “It looks like she’s almost done.”

“Shit,” Jason hissed, looking down to see that she was, actually, very close to being done. She had already had one tire completely free by the time he had arrived, and now she was only seconds away from getting the other one completely free.

He took a quick assessment— she was tiny, and really thin. Definitely a street kid, he thought, though he didn’t recognize her. He knew most of the street kids that stole to get by, nowadays, which meant she must have been fairly new. But even though she seemed to know what she was doing, her small frame made her take longer unscrewing the tires than it normally would have taken. Sure that she wasn’t a threat by any stretch of the imagination, he jumped down. His plan had been to startle her a little by showing up out of nowhere, but he didn’t want to scare her too badly. Just make her jump a little.

But he had underestimated her, it seemed. Without wasting a second, she jumped up and swung her tire iron at his knee. He cursed, she was a lot faster than her had been expecting. He was able to move so that the weapon only clipped the side of his knee, his knee pad thankfully taking the worst of it. She still hit hard enough to make him stumble and hiss in pain though, which was an accomplishment.

That’s when she abandoned her weapon and her tires, darting to try and escape only for Batman to drop down and block her escape. Though really, it was the grin Batman had that scared the girl most of all, apparently, making her slowly back away from him.

“Please stop smiling,” she begged with a faint French accent to her words. “It is not natural.”

That made Red Hood laugh, already recovered and right behind her. He plopped a gloved hand on her head.

“I know, it’s creepy right?” He joked. “What’cha doin’ stealing my tires, kid? I kinda need them to drive anywhere,” he was careful to keep his voice light and devoid of any anger. He wasn’t really upset, all told. It would be hypocritical of him if he was.

She looked between the two vigilantes for a moment, clear intelligence behind those bright blue eyes as she seemed to consider something. Suddenly she pulled away from Red Hood and stepped away from his reach, straightening up and trying to look tall.

“My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” she said as firmly as she could. “My father was Tom Dupain, he was killed in a mugging three months ago. We were living in a house that our family friend leant to us after my mother’s death six months ago, and we moved here from Paris. I haven’t been able to contact him, and the police… I don’t trust them,” she admitted, clearly seeing this as the chance she had been waiting for. “I have been living on the streets since my father died. I am sorry for trying to steal your tires, Monsieur Red Hood. But it was a risk I had to take.”

“Did you expect us to catch you?” He asked, crossing his arms as he re-evaluated the girl. She was a lot stronger than he had assumed earlier, both physically and mentally. She seesawed her hand to indicate ‘kinda’.

“Even if you didn’t, I could make good money off your tires,” she justified with a shrug. “To me, I would win either way.”

“Who is your family friend? Can he help you now, take you in?” Batman asked, moving forward and kneeling down to be closer to Marinette’s height. Neither he nor Jason had missed the part where she was an orphan, but they had expected that considering what they had caught her doing. And they both knew that she wasn’t likely to take any apologies they tried to offer very well. It was best not to show pity, or she might get angry.

Marinette frowned. “... Our family friend is Jagged Stone. He lets me call him Uncle Jagged,” she told them, clearly expecting the disbelieving grunts they gave. “I mean it! You can call him, he might even be looking for me! I—“

“We know,” Hood assured her, now kneeling down as well. Man, she was short. “Calm down, we know you’re telling the truth. Jagged has made several public announcements about his missing honorary niece, we just didn’t recognize your name right away. And Jagged doesn’t have access to very many pictures of you, those he does have the Mayor isn’t allowing him to show because that spineless jackass—“

“Language, Hood.”

“—Cares more about keeping bad press off the air than finding a kid, even if it’s a world famous rockstar who’s asking. That’s probably why you haven’t heard anything, the mayor’s keeping it off the radio and not many reporters are brave enough to take the story and get on his bad side.”

“Oh…” Marinette took a deep breath, fighting the tears that were threatening to rise up. “He has been looking…” she sniffled, curling in on herself a little. “Can you take me to him?”

“I think we can do that,” Batman agreed, standing up. “I’ll contact him. Red Hood, can you handle everything here until I give you a place to meet up with Jagged Stone?”

Jason nodded. “No problem, B. Come on, little rabid pixie. Step one of gettin’ you back to your uncle is to help me fix my bike back up.”

Marinette sighed, shoulders dropping. “All my hard work, undone…” she playfully complained. But in the end she didn’t argue or fight against it, she just sat down and helped him reattach his tires.

All the while, Jason’s family kept teasing him over the comms. Clearly they were also thoroughly amused by the cosmic display of karma.

“...Monsieur Hood,” Marinette asked once they were done repairing the motorcycle and he had given her his too-big extra helmet. He tilted his head a bit to show he was listening. She squirmed. “Can… can we stop by my hideout? I have something really important I have to get.”

Jason smiles gently under his mask. She might not have been a street kid for very long, but she really did bring back some memories for him. He got on his bike and held a hand out to her.

“Sure thing kid. Wanna grab something to eat after? Can’t have a reunion on an empty stomach.”

She gave him a lopsided smile— not quite overjoyed, but definitely hopeful and thankful. Maybe this was the end of her streak of bad luck, she could only hope.

“Only if you don’t mind, Monsieur Hood,” she agreed before taking his hand and letting him help her onto the bike.

“No skin off my back, pixie,” he assured her. Then they were off. He followed her directions until they got to an abandoned building about three miles away, not in a good part of town at all but at least not in crime alley. Marinette easily led him through the building, skirting around other piles of ratty blankets and up broken stairs until they got to the badly-maintained top floor. She led him over to an almost invisible door in the concrete wall that pulled out to reveal what was probably a broom closet once upon a time. It was crowded with what looked like junk and empty boxes, along with a few blankets and two or three changes of clothes that were clearly her’s. A few belongings scattered around— a book, a small pink purse, and… Marinette came out of the pile of mess holding what had clearly been a very carefully hidden box. She also grabbed the purse and slung it over her shoulder, but didn’t seem worried about anything else.

Jason frowned at the box. It wasn’t that big, but it was clearly made of old wood. There were intricate carvings that were painted pink, in a symbol that was itching at the back of his mind. He recognized that symbol, but from where?

“Ready to go, kid?” He asked as he thought about it, getting a nod from Marinette. Twenty minutes later they were at a Batburger, sitting in a shaded booth that couldn’t be seen from the street.

She never let the box out of her sight. She kept it on the seat next to her, and Jason noticed that she tried to keep one hand on it at all times. But when she spoke, now her French accent stood out to him even more than before. But why—?

And then it clicked. Paris. Hawkmoth. Ladybug, Chat Noir, magic artifacts called Miraculous. Wonder Woman had raised a fuss when the heroes disappeared, declaring that something was wrong but she couldn’t put her finger on what. Then the magic users they trusted were called in, and returned from Paris with the grim news that the former Guardian of those artifacts had activated a failsafe and passed the guardianship on to someone else while erasing his own memories at the same time. But nobody knew who he could have passed it on to, so Batman had been given the green light to do all the research he and his team could into the Miraculous box to try and help track it down.

And here it was. The carvings were in pink now, which might have been the “cosmetic change” that Constantine had mentioned might happen when the box changed guardians. He had found the box full of super powerful magical artifacts… in the hands of a newly orphaned street kid who couldn’t have been older than fourteen at best.

What the hell?

“...” Red hood reached into his pocket and pulled out an old receipt and a sharpie. He scrawled on the back of the receipt and handed to Marinette. The girl was halfway into a bite of her burger when he did, and blinked at him owlishly before swallowing and cautiously reaching out to grab it. She frowned at the numbers scrawled there.

“What’s this?” She asked.

“My contact info,” he explained. “I won’t ask questions about why you have that box,” he watched her instantly stiffen but continued as casually as he could; “but it doesn’t matter. You can call me if you ever need help with anything, kid. Help with that box, help if you get in trouble in Gotham again, or even if you’re having a bad day. You can call me for whatever, got it? I don’t care if you think it’s stupid, if you can’t talk to anyone else in your life you can always call or text me and I’ll do whatever I can. Got it?”

“...” Marinette sniffled for a second and looked down at the table in silence for a second. “... what if I want your motorcycle?” she joked, but the watery tone of her voice gave her away.

Jason laughed, patting her head. “I need my bike, but we can talk about getting you your own once you are old enough to get a license. You almost done? Bats says that Jagged is ready to meet you, I can take you to him right now.”

“Yeah, lets go!” she was newly energized and shoved the last bite of burger into her mouth greedily. “And Red Hood?” She asked as they headed out to where he had parked.

“Yeah, kid?”

“Thanks.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Permanent tag list (I remembered it this time!)

@rosalineandrosemary @neakco @justanotherfanficlovinbitch @trippingovermyfeet @certainmuffinbagelcalzone @bigpicklebananatree @fantasylover-92 @prongs-flowers @jumpingjoy82 @prettylittlebutterflie @queenz-z @literaryhiraeth @waffelyunsure @deathssilentapproach-blog @waiting247 @theirlmikan @unoriginalmess

[mistertf2xreaderfluffballcake]

~How the mercs are when they are jealous~

hell yeah. I hope you enjoy some jealous boys~~~~ :D

Scout

He will make it VERY CLEAR that he is jealous. When scout saw somebody flirt with you, there was a weird feeling in his chest. That feeling grew when he saw you laugh at that dude's jokes. ...

He approached both of you and swung an arm around your shoulder and just kiss you. yep. A surprise random kiss. I mean that was the easiest way to say fuck off to the dude flirting with you. When he saw your blush he was super proud. And yes the dude saw that and got jealous. The look on that guy was priceless.

If the jealous flirter still continues to flirt with you even after all that happened. He will just insult and destroy that man's life in front of everybody :) yey...?

Once you both go home he will just suddenly hug you...S-scout? Cuddle. ! hehe ok.

Soldier

He is MAD BOYYY!!! He just walked up to the person that was flirting and just. HEY MAGGOT! *THE SOUND OF A CLEAN AND CRUSTY NECK SNAP* ORRR He will just yell the soul of that person. MAGGOT LOOK AT YOUR WEAK ARMS!!! He will just insult the smallest things ever too. LOOK AT YOUR HAIR! IT IS ABSOLUTE TRASH! Hey um, flirter I would recommend you to run if you don't want emotional damage. Because neither flex tape nor therapy can fix it….

ORRRRR he will just pick you up and just jumps out the nearest window. !!!! yey?? A man in Teufort just jumped out a window. (lol does anybody get the reference?)

Once the threat was gone he ordered for cuddles >:) he wants to cuddle!!! CUPCAKE I ORDER FOR CUDDLES AND HUG!!! yes yes, soldier hehe.

Pyro

Pyro would just stick with you. Pyro didn't mind s/o was just talking to somebody about something and just generally chilling. But when pyro sees the flirter mess with you is NOW it is a BIG PROBLEM.

Pyro would just skip off with you somewhere else while humming a nice tune. HMMM MMHHH PHH! ??? You will probably be confused but once pyro has dragged you out of that weird situation with the flirter, pyro would shower with you in affection.

Pyro? *head pats* MMPHHHH :D

Pyro isn't jealous. They just wants to make sure you are comfortable. If somebody is making you uncomfortable the wonderful and cute pyro is here to rescue you from uncomfortableness!!

Engi

He would think for a quick minute. Is that dude is s/o's friends or maybe even family?? *after observing* NOPE just an asshole messing with my lovely lover.

Engi would swing an arm around your shoulder. !! Oh hi sweetheart! Are you doing okay here? *smile warmly at s/o but give a death glare at the asshole* :)

Engi would then just excuse you both and just bring you somewhere private. Are you okay sugar? Did that dude hurt you? Once you tell him it was okay and give him a kiss for his brave act he will explode.

Heavy

Not really...? Heavy does not get jealous.....? Maybe... Heavy just wants to make sure you are comfortable! He doesn't want to ruin a conversation or friendship just because of his feelings. But after some few minutes of observing he saw them clearly making you uncomfortable. Heavy is here for the rescue. He just wants his lovely lover safe and comfortable.

Heavy will just stick next to you and give a big death glare contest. *STAREEEEEEE* ... ... *dude leaves* S/o wanna go somewhere else?

Once you both go somewhere else he just head pats and bear hugs. He is just letting you know that he loves you. *pat pat*

He would then suggest just chilling and reading some nice books that he has selected. Eventually, you both drift to sleep while still cuddling...Sweet dreams~!

Demoman

Demoman straight up just fistfights or have a drinking game with the dude if he makes you SUPER uncomfortable. (P.S he will both win both games I mean for the drinking game...he absolutely destroyed that filthy flirter.)

But if the man is just casually flirting with you demo will calm down. He would just give you a lot of attention. Oh hello, lovely~! Oh, you guys know each other? OH YEAH~ We are actually together~! oh... WE have been together for a VERY LONG TIME~Dont you think s/o is so lovely~? ......... :D

He would then just drink and chill with you. I~ *hick* Love ye soooooo muchhhhh!

Sniper

Sniper is...confused with his emotions. Like, should he approach you but he does not wanna make it awkward...or should he just leave you since that person might just be a friend...?

Once he realizes that person IS indeed flirting. His heart has this weird feeling of burning up.

Sniper will stick next to you. Just glaring at that person silently. He would also kinda growl under his breath.

He would also hold your hand VERY tightly. But once that flirter leaves he will realize what he did and kinda turn flustered.

If you tease about it he will explode. Just give him a nice head pat :))

Medic

Medic is enraged. His lovely lover is being flirted with!? He is the only one allowed to do that!

Medic would walk into both of your conversations. Hello my LOVE~♡

He will make you flustered by HIS flirting. Once he sees your cute red cheeks he is just happy as hell.

He would also just straight up kiss you in front of that flirter. Now let me tell you the kiss was deep... now that is also a huge fuck you to the flirter.

Once that flirter leaves he would just shower you in more affection. While having a maybe evil yet sweet smile.

Spy

He will stick next to you and just be a little more affectionate than before in public. He usually doesn't be super affectionate in public hmm why is he...?

he would just suddenly just kiss your hand, neck, cheek, etc, and also have a hand around your waist to pull you closer. He would also glare at that person. You swear his glare could cut and kill everyone in this room. Everybody runnnn

He also might insult the fool if really necessary. It's not just some random insults tho they are just so brutal yet the spy says it like a random conversation.

After that filthy fool leaves spy would still have the stone-cold glare. Pls, give him a sweet and warm smile he will melt.

Once you both go back home he will shower you in affection and love like always.

He just loves loving you and feeling loved, you know? Also, pls give him a nice and long head pat while he lays his head on your lap. He deserves it >:)

Jealous little boys honestly. They all just want to make you feel comfortable. Anyway I hope you enjoyed it~!

[cynettic]

Stay with Me pt.3

Summary - You manage to escape from Scaramouche, if only for a moment before you realize there’s no escape. It only takes until you’re sitting back in your regular spot that you know what you need to do.

Pairings - Kitsune!Reader x Yan!Scaramouche

Warnings - Suggestive content, mentions of death, swearing, slight gore / blood 

A/N - Its really hard to make this depressing while I’m vibing to Rasputin. Like no joke- I have it on one of the 1 hour playlists :D

Here you’ll find -  pt.1 and pt.2

He’d left a key.

Scaramouche didnt make mistakes, not while he had you captive in the vicinity of his bedroom. He didnt have room for mistakes, not when you were watching his every movement while he was in your line of sight. 

Sure, he mightve killed a person or two in front of you, but those were necessary mistakes. There was a sign on the door, it specified not to enter. You’d understand that, right?

Thats what he thought at least, lulling himself into belief after belief that you’d be there waiting for him every time. That you’d welcome him with open arms, even if there were chains ensnaring your wrists. That you’d accept your fate at his hands and submit yourself to him.

The Balladeer was a fool.

He’d kept you there for too long, and while you searched for an easy way to escape, time sent your head spinning. Into a spiral that begged only for the wind against your face, back laying on dirt with the familiar chirping up birds waking you up in the morning.

You wanted to go outside.

And when push comes to shove, you had to risk a little more to make it happen. Lure him into bed with kisses while your hands unbuttoned his vest. But what he believed to be alluring contacts was just your way of finding the keys hidden in the back pocket of his shorts.

It wasnt hard to find the one to your cuffs while he was asleep, cuddled in your chest with both arms around your waist as if to get you to stay put. You took the key, hiding them back in his clothing and hoping he didnt notice.

He didnt say anything the next day.

You werent going to wait any longer.

“Oh for fucks sake, why won't the goddamn door open?”

The room was left in tatters behind you, a little gift for Scaramouche once he got back. Turns out a pair of chains can smash up a lot of things, and rage can be used as a great source of strength when contained for such a long time.

But you’d done more than throw the blankets around, cut up the drawers and smash open the windows. Because your fists had bled red when you punched through the glass, puncturing your skin. Your knuckles were an ugly red, bruising already.

Ah, Scaramouche deserved a much better gift.

Gruesome as it was, you rubbed your knuckles against the pale walls. Till the blood stopped coming, till there was a nice little message for the boy which you held so dearly to your heart.

‘Balladeer.’

The first time you’d found out about him being a harbinger he’d told you not to call him by that name. You weren’t someone he associated with by work, you were a treasure to him. That’s why you continued to call him as he pleased, although the temptation always arose.

You were no longer his.

Shoving the door with your hand again, palm fiddling with the handle and groaning when it hardly budged. “Stupid,” you grumbled when the knob began to loosen. Backing up, you charged with your shoulder to the door, full force as the momentum broke the hinges. The door fell down with you along with it.

It was expected, you’d been stuck in the room for a long time, and thats considering you’d sat on the ground for decades. Your body was slight numb, muscles sore and unused for so long. 

“You a-arent supposed to leave your room!”

A young man stood in the hallway along with a woman who looked relatively the same age. The two were wearing uniforms, flinching when you stood up from the debris and off the door. “Excuse me?” You asked, voice unnecessarily icy and stern. But you couldnt care less, you were going to get out of this house, damn anyone who stood in your way.

They both continued to shake when you walked towards them, staggering from side to side. The woman stepped up in front of the man, presenting a brave face. “If you leave the mansion, the harbinger will kill us all!”

“Well then I expect you should be on your way then. Actually…” you gestured to the maze of hallways. “You can lead the way.”

“What…?”

Your hand went limp to your side, an exasperated looking momentarily crossing your face before you sighed. “Im not staying trapped in that room, I’m sorry if that ruins your life, but frankly you're not the one stuck in there are you?” You took an extra step just to intimidate them, eyes wide to make the appearance of crazy. “It would be a great help if you showed me where he hid my vision too.”

“We can show you to the door…” The man began, “But the whereabouts of your vision are unknown, he wouldnt tell us something like that.”

A gift bestowed from the gods, a piece to help me thrive with my ambitions and pursue my goals.

Gone.

You really wished you’d taken to clawing out Scaramouche’s face instead, but you’d take what you got. Right now your main priority was getting out of this place, even if it meant leaving a piece of you behind.

“Door.” Your voice was raspy and there was a terrible feeling that crawled up to your throat, but you didnt have time to be emotional. “Show me where the door is… please.”

The conflict in their eyes dissipates by the time they lead you along, mumbling words between themselves. You didnt bother to try eavesdropping, you were so, so tired. You wanted to go home.

Anywhere. Anywhere but here.

It took a few minutes until you were standing in front of a grand door, almost twice the size of you and just as wide. You then began to notice the decorational plants and furniture that filled the empty space, there wasn't an inch of dust. Even though you could tell none of it was used.

“Hurry,” the man warned when you paused. “I dont know when our master is coming back, but if its soon, we’ll all be screwed.”

You couldnt feel your head as you numbly nodded, hand clenching the knob and flinging the set of doors open. “Thank you,” you merely mumbled, taking your first step out of the house in what felt like forever.

The days after that were a blur, the area around Scaramouche’s house were nothing but void. Empty and filled with forests and vast plains. You knew he didnt like people or socializing in general, but to this extent?

Your only option was to run.

Let your feet take you somewhere, anywhere. It was a constant pattern of running and taking breaks, leaning on a tree and gasping in a few breaths before you were again scurrying through the forest. 

And yet you felt better than you’d felt in past months that you’d been stuck with Scaramouche.

Food became any boar you came across, the claws you’d spent so long hiding with Scaramouche coming to unleash a wrath beyond your comprehension. Till the animal was cut to shreds and no meat was left even to eat. You’d slaughtered it, without intention to eat or benefit for it, you’d killed it just to kill.

“I’m sorry,” you’d sobbed into the ground where you’d buried the harmless animal. Forehead pressed into the dirt as you pleaded for forgiveness to whatever archons would accept it. You couldn't even remember what archons you were supposed to pray to. “Forgive me- forgive me…”

But eventually you found your way around to somewhere you knew. Territory of Inazuma where you could find your way back, back home.

Where was home?

You’d been on the run from the vision hunt decree, abandoning your post for the Kitsune Saiguu for such a thing. Even now that you could return without a vision and as no threat under the decree…

You’d sacrificed everything for your vision.

Where were you to go now…?

Rain patted down, the trees providing only a slight cover as stray drops fell into your matted dirty hair. You didnt mind, it hid the tears that slid down your lifeless face, feet taking you into the far meadows of your hometown. Till you plopped down underneath a tree, knees curled to your chest and arms hugging them close. You were crying.

You were home.

____________________

“Awh,” a ginger haired murmured, elbow resting on the cool wood of the tabletop. “Is little Mouchie sad? I heard your kitty cat escaped~”

A death wish, even fatui that idly minded themselves around the bar knew it. Sipping cold drinks and swirling their cups, the soft chatter was nothing but a distraction from the main course of events. That being the smaller Harbinger who sat sulking in his seat, hunched over with a drink in hand. He’d drank far more than what was on the counter, but everytime he finished a glass, he’d smash it on the ground, watching the fragile glass shatter into pieces.

“I dont have a cat,'' was his only response, tone daring Childe to pursue further. To give him a reason to start throwing the glass in his face instead.

And Childe was an idiot when it came to challenging someone.

“No cat?” The rest of the drink in the taller harbinger’s glass was gone when he threw his head back. “Hmmm, I cant think of what else could’ve had you so enraptured in returning home then~!”

Scaramouche didnt respond, uneven bangs shadowing the bags under his eyes. “Stronger,” he said instead, elbow on the counter and hand outstretched for something. When there was no movement from the man managing the wine, the harbinger looked up. “I need something stronger to drink,” he repeated, voice seething.

“Of c-course!”

The glass was nestled in Scaramouche’s palm in no time, fingers curling around the circular form to down it in seconds. The drink merely slid down his throat in one movement, alcohol burning his senses. It didn’t matter, he was numbed by the growing rage inside of him.

Finally, he turned to the ginger haired boy, eyes hazily dancing along the counter till it reached his fingertips. Up his hand and along his arm, till Scaramouche was staring right into Childe’s eyes. “They escaped,” he admitted softly. “But it’s alright, because I sent something that’ll bring them back.”

Childe paused, raising his drink up away from his lips to pose a question. Hesitation danced along his features before he brought the glass back, he’d rather not provoke the shorter male any further. Wasn’t like he could interfere anyway.

____________________

“That… that…” 

It was preposterous, having returned to that same spot for a day or two and heading back to the hometown you’d once lived in. The one Scaramouche had lived in. There shouldn’t have been an issue, you were solely gathering supplies for the sake of it, ambition driving you to travel far far away.

Out of Inazuma.

It was your new beginning, convincing yourself that you didn't need a vision. Finding some sort of purpose before Scaramouche shattered the vision and your life along with it. You’d seen how people had reacted when it had been ingrained in the statue, neutralized and broken. They lost hope, purpose and aspirations for anything new.

It’s not like the Raiden Shogun took my vision.

But you’d taken that fact for granted, expecting some sort of new start without Scaramouche. A victory, getting away from him just for a split second and getting out of Inazuma altogether, you’d never see him again.

Until you got his message.

“How the hell…” You crushed the note until it was just crumbled paper in your hand, slowly leaning on the stone wall. “Piece of shit… what kind of person even…” 

Not only did he manage to find you, but without making his presence known, he’d tugged at your one weakness with an ease that had you down on your knees.

You threw the paper to the ground, deliberate as you stared past the alleyway. Pensive as you considered your options. Damn, what options did you even have? You’d been an idiot to underestimate Scaramouche, he wasn’t a child, you knew that… but archons he seemed like one when he was with you. Shown you a vulnerability he wanted only you to see. But maybe that had been part of his plan all along, until all you believed was his soft demeanor.

He may act like a child, but he’s a harbinger.

You stared down at the crumbled piece of paper in disgust.

Not only that, but he has no regard for human life.

Either way, you’d lived decades more than him. You could face him, you would present yourself to him just as he expected you to. Even when everything in you rejected the idea, sobbed at the thought of returning to that house, those chains. Being locked up and confined only for the purpose of coddling a small boy, a selfish boy, a cruel boy. 

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

You’d figure out a way, and this time you wouldn’t rule out the option of his death.

———————

Oh darling Y/n, how have you been?

I hope this letter reaches you rather soon, we both have much to discuss, no? About me, about you, and much more. You see, I’ve taken up quite a distaste to your little friends. Stone statues in Inazuma as small as Kitsunes truly hold no purpose, what will they do, come back to life? Haha, I should think not. I’ve already arranged to have them demolished, who knows what kind of material they might possess. Ah, and of course I’d show you the finishing product, unless you’re willing to come and have a chat with me once more? Under the Sakura tree like we used to, you’ve waited years, I believe you can wait for me?

I hope this letter reaches you in best interests. I’m always looking out for you after all.

Sincerely, your Balladeer

——————

It was raining.

Beautiful weather as you lay sitting there, feet crossed and tucked in the same you’d often do. After all, there was no need to fear the vision hunt decree or the Raiden Shogun. Let them come, let them take care of you before Scaramouche did.

You werent cold, not when the cold drops dampened your clothing, slipping down the length of your spine and drenching your face. Despite having lived in a luxury residency for such a long time, this was where you were most comfortable, enduring whatever the weather had for you, taking it with a smile. Because you were waiting…

The Kitsune Saiguu was a distant memory.

You were waiting for Scaramouche, the young boy that often bound into the field in lengthy strides, childlike wonder in his eyes. The one who’d cried when the other kids pushed him away, the one that just wanted to be praised. You’d held him in your arms, and now, even knowing the results, you wouldnt have done differently.

He was just a boy.

Just a boy when he joined the fatui, looking for praise that he was given. He created chaos and bellowed orders with a cruelty that was highly looked upon. Told that he was doing well, so he continued to do so.

He’s just a boy.

You wished you’d held him in your arms, if not only for a tad longer. Shield him away from the wrongness of the world, if only for one last time.

Banishing away your hatred for him was hard.

But you found it under the tree, rain soon dimming down to a clouded cold breeze that swept through the meadow. You’d hated him while stuck in the mansion, but you could now see it from a larger point of view. What he did was wrong of course, but you could remember him so vividly now. His small form giggling, tiny arms around your neck. 

“Play with me!”

Was it your fault?

For not holding him tighter? For trying to rectify his bad doings and teach him what was wrong and right? Maybe if your grip was firmer, if you’d spoken to him about the warmth he’d given you that day when playing cards...

“Lazy ass.”

Burying down that pile of worry and insecurities, you took a deep breath in to relax. The edge of your lip perked up, only slightly. “Still terrible with your social skills arent you?”

Slowly securing a dry space under the three with you, Scaramouche sat down. His features were the same ones you’d grown accustomed to at his mansion. Rich clothes, sharp eyes, and the baby face that refused to go away. His movements were soft as he pulled out a deck of cards. The two of you didnt speak as he distributed them between you both. It was tense… no, it felt too much like the warmth form long ago to be tense. You only wished the situation to be different.

“I love you.”

But you could only offer a bitter smile to his words. “I love my vision,” you replied. “I love the Kitsune Saiguu, and I love my friends.”

His touch was gentle when his fingers came to gently cradle your cheek. Holding your face dearly as he peered into your eyes, his were soft. Different from the cruelty he held within, the hatred that burned and destruction that seeked to explode.

You saw a little boy.

Your hand came to press his hand further against your cheek, till you slid his palm to your lips. He appeared so calm when you pressed the first kiss, lips tracing the lines along his palm with all the care in the world.

But you needed to change your view, see him as the man he now was. As the man he had become.

“I love you,” he repeated, and you let go of his hand. It fell limp by his side, cards all but forgotten. There was a much more pressing matter at hand, because you truly needed to see him as he was.

It was necessary if you planned to kill him.

[im-constantly-fangirling-backup]

Here Comes the Cavalry

REPOST BECAUSE TUMBLR HATES ME

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Swear words

Word Count: ~2.3k

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting this, anon! I had a really fun time writing this and I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Charlie's 10th birthday finds itself the center of a showdown between Thomas and his ex-wife over the new woman in his life.

[Masterlist] [Taglist Form] [Join my 200 followers celebration!]

Being a friend of the Shelby's- didn’t matter how close or distant- was like walking around with a target on your back. But you didn’t mind. As much violence and chaos that the family attracts, and as much as they try to have power over each other, there was a mutual love and respect between every Shelby that you hadn’t seen anywhere else. For example, when Polly found out Tommy had hidden crucial information, she was pissed; but also proud. It was a bit concerning, if you were going to be honest. Even Grace was kept in the loop after the divorce. Once a Shelby, always a Shelby, you supposed. Grace wasn’t involved in the family business at all, but she and the family met occasionally. Although, as time passed on, it was mostly so Charlie could spend time with his father. Grace was now remarried and her visits were far and in between. She drifted apart from all the Shelbys- not that they minded, as her betrayal was still in their minds all those years later. Thomas started to move on from her as well, now very much used to Grace not being a part of his day-to-day life. Today was the day that Grace and Charlie were making a rare visit to the Arrow House for his 10th birthday. Thomas postponed all of his meetings for the entire week to make time for his son, an action that made you smile when you heard Tom tell his clients of his absence. And they call him heartless, you had laughed to yourself. “Ada! How are you doing!” you said, hugging your best friend before walking into the Arrow House. You took off your coat and hung it on the hook next to the door. “Oh I’m doing great sweetheart,” she said. “Auntie Y/NNNNNN!” you heard a little boy’s voice yell from the stairs. The pitter-patter of their feet running across the wooden floor echoed through the large room and made you chuckle. “Hello, Karl!” you kneeled on your knees and opened your arms for Karl, who ran into them and almost made you topple over. “Someone’s excited to see me!” You squeezed him lightly, resting your cheek on his head. You pulled away from him and reached into your purse, grabbing a chocolate bar that you had bought for Karl. “I got you something!” Karl smiled, his cute crooked teeth on display. “Thank you!” He grabbed the bar from your hand and started unwrapping it, running away from you and towards the living room. “Uncle Arthur, look what Auntie Y/N gave me!” he yelled. “What did I say about the chocolate?” Ada chided you. You laughed. “I couldn’t help it Ada,” you defended yourself. “He’s too adorable to not spoil.” In the background, you heard Karl laugh loudly. “You can’t have any Uncle Arthur, it’s for me!” You chuckled and shook your head, looking down at the floor in mock exasperation. The Arrow House would be nothing without the echoes of Karl’s screams bouncing around the walls from time to time. Even Thomas seemed to brighten up a bit more whenever Karl and Ada visited. You supposed it was because his nephew reminded him of his own son that he barely got to see. At the thought of Charlie, you looked up to Ada. “When are Charlie and Grace showing up?” Ada shrugged. “They should be here in a couple of minutes. Why don’t we head to the living room? Tommy bought a shit ton of food for Charlie so we might be able to steal a bit.” _______________________________________________________________________________________ You and Ada made your way into the living room and smiled at the exquisite birthday decorations. There were balloons of every color bunched up every couple of feet around the room, a large birthday banner hanging proud and true on the wall across from the fireplace. “Hello, Y/N. Ada,” Tom said from where he sat on the couch, his elbows on his knees. You smiled at him. “Thomas.” Tom smirked slightly- which was a fucking bright-ass grin when it came to Thomas. “We’ve been over the ‘Thomas’ shit, Y/n/n,” he said, quirking his brow. You chuckled. “We have,” you said. “Tom. ‘S just fun to be all fucking formal.” Tom pat the spot on the couch next to him while Ada left your side, sensing that you two wanted some

time alone. You walked over to Tom and sat next to him. “You excited?” Thomas nodded, his blue eyes brightening slightly. “I hardly get to see Charles anymore. You bet your ass I’m spoiling me boy when he’s here,” he joked. You laughed. “I’m sure Charlie’s going to like all of this,” you gestured to the decorations around you. “Oh! Before I forget! Where should I put this?” You reached into your purse and pulled out a folded mancala board that Charlie had begged you for the last time he visited. Thomas smiled and took the board from you, leaning down and sliding it under the couch. “We’re going to open presents after cake, so just remember to pick it back up.” From there, you and Thomas began to talk about the family business. Unlike with Grace, Thomas found himself consulting you on many decisions that he made. You weren’t directly involved but your advice was greatly appreciated by the family. Especially since Thomas wanted to get into politics- a field that you knew well because your father ran for MP multiple times before his death- your advice on what not to do gave him valuable insight on how to maintain a favorable public image. “I know your past is something that can’t be erased,” you said in response to Tom’s concerns about the subject. “But that doesn’t mean it can’t be hidden. Or at least left ambiguous enough that people can’t ask the right questions. You keep the public from asking the right questions, and you make sure they can never find the answers.” “It’s a bit unnerving that you know this,” Tom noted, a smirk on his face. In truth, he was impressed. Your knowledge of politics was quite extensive considering your father tried to keep you away from it for most of your life. But you knew how to eavesdrop and read gossip, and so you gained a wealth of knowledge about politics. You laughed. “You’re acting like you don’t already know this.” Thomas took a drag of his cigarette and chuckled. “You got me there.” Your conversation was interrupted by the distinct shrill of the doorbell. Tom perked up and smiled. “Charles is here!” He practically jumped up from his seat on the couch and made his way to the hall. You followed him to the hall, beckoning Karl, Ada, and Arthur- who had been quietly eating food in the corner, thinking Tom hadn’t noticed- to come with you. You and the group walked into the hall to the sight of Thomas laughing and picking up Charlie in his arms and bouncing him up and down, making his son giggle. “Happy birthday Charlie!” you exclaimed, clapping. Arthur, Karl, Ada- and John and Polly, who had been talking in the hall after you arrived- clapped and joined in wishing Charlie a happy birthday. Charlie and Karl shared a hug that resulted in you awing. You looked at Grace and smiled. “Welcome, Grace,” you greeted her respectfully. Grace simply nodded at you and took off her coat. Turning around to put her coat on the coat hooks next to the door, she gasped lightly in shock when she saw your coat resting next to Tom’s. “Whose coat is this?” she asked casually. You apologized profusely. “It’s mine, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to impose. I can find a different place for it-” Thomas waved his hand nonchalantly. “Oh, no need. You’re not imposing, Y/n/n.” You blushed slightly. “Frances can take your coat, Grace. I trust you remember who she is?” He jabbed at her lightly. Grace huffed and nodded. “Alright.” The tension between Tom and Grace was palpable and made everyone make excuses to leave the room. You left as well, saying something about wanting to play around with Karl and Charlie. You knew things were bad between Thomas and Grace. So bad, in fact, that Tom had approached her with a divorce. Tom was many things, but he wasn’t the type of person to reach for a divorce. He believed that marriage lasted for life. But after Tom’s and Grace’s arguments over his ambitions and dreams started to grow from skirmishes to screaming matches littered with threats, Thomas had enough. He told you the night that he decided to divorce Grace that he didn’t want to spend his life with a woman

that didn’t support his political and business ambitions. You found yourself sympathizing with both of them. You understood Grace’s concerns about the target that would always be on her and Charlie’s back because of Thomas’s ambition. But you also understood Thomas’s argument that his ambitions were also the thing that would provide his family with more opportunities than he had. Thomas’s goals were a double-edged sword. Although, Grace had become quite cold to Thomas in retaliation for the divorce, often sending him and his family veiled insults. So you didn’t feel much remorse for her when Tom made barbed comments like the one made in the hall. You sighed while watching Karl and Charlie play. It was going to be a long party. _______________________________________________________________________________________ All of you were eating cake, you talking with Polly about some gossip that you heard when going shopping for groceries. “Apparently Brandon was just using her for her status,” you said, licking the frosting off of your fork. “But then Brandon caught Melissa sleeping with her boss-” “No fucking way!” Polly interrupted, putting her plate down and gasping. “How the hell do these things happen to people!” You laughed. “I know right! My life is boring in comparison- and I hang out with you insane idiots!” “Hey!” John said from across the table, his mouth full of cake. “We’re not that bad!” “Speak for yourself,” Ada muttered from next to her brother, cringing when John stuck his cake-covered tongue out at her. “Honestly, Y/N,” Grace’s refined voice reverberated through the dining room, “You shouldn’t be gossiping this much. It’s a boring pastime.” You quirked your brow. “I’m sorry?” “Oh it’s alright, I understand that some people have nothing better to talk about. I’m just saying, gossip signals a bland personality and I’m sure you don’t have that, hm?” Grace’s implied message was clear. You sat in silence for a moment, surprised. “No?” you said, going along with whatever Grace said. In all honesty, you didn’t care what Grace thought of you. She barely visited enough for you to give a shit. But apparently, Tom didn’t want to let it slide. “Look, Grace, it’s not a big deal to gossip, alright? You’d be a big fucking hypocrite telling Y/n/n not to gossip when pretty much everything you talked about was who was fuckin’ who-” “Thomas!” Grace chided. “What? If you’re going to walk in here and criticize how Y/n/n spends their time, you can fuck off, alright? I don’t need some posh stuck-up woman in me house. So either behave yourself and let Charlie have a good birthday,” Thomas threatened, “Or get out of me house and have fun on the streets for a week.” “You’d let your own son live on the streets for a week?” Grace asked, shocked. “My threat regards only you. Charles is me blood- you make me see blood.” Grace looked down at her plate and picked up her fork and ate her cake again. Tom took that as an agreement to get along with everyone and started eating again as well. You were just thankful that you had sent Karl and Charlie to play upstairs. But regardless of the tense situation, a smile graced your face at the immediacy that Tom defended you with. _______________________________________________________________________________________ “Hey,” you tapped Thomas’s shoulder when you both found yourselves alone in the back room. “Thank you for defending me.” Tom nodded and smiled slightly. “Of course.” “I mean it. No one really defends me so I really appreciate it. Especially since it’s Grace.” Tommy’s brows raised slightly at that comment. “What do you mean?” You shrugged, looking anywhere but at Tom. “I mean, she was the woman that made you the person you used to be before France. I understand there’s some bad blood between you two now, but she’s still special to you.” Tom hummed and walked closer to you, stopping at around 2 feet away from you. “So are you, you know. You’re special to me.” You smiled. “You’re special to me, too.” Thomas’s hand cupped your cheek lightly, his thumb stroking

back and forth. A flush made its way to your cheeks and you smiled shyly at Tom. There was always some unspoken bond between the two of you that you danced around. You were always scared that it was too early after his divorce, but with the way that he was looking at you, he probably got over it a while ago. You don’t know who leaned forward first, but one second later your mouths were connected in a feverish kiss. Tom’s hands were traveling places, touching parts of your body that you caught him eyeing from time to time. Your hands rested against his chest and reveled in the feeling of his heart thumping against his chest as erratically as yours. So you had the same effect on him as he did on you. The kiss was a good indicator of that, but it was nice to have reassurance. Tom pulled away and rested his forehead on yours. “Fuck, I’ve wanted to do that for months now,” Tom confessed. You smiled, pecking him on the lips. “So have I,” you replied, pulling his mouth back to yours.

[robininthelabyrinth]

3. I have no idea if this time line would work, but MYX and XY get attached to each other, so when the time comes that MYX and XY need to leave Koi Tower, JGY helps them get married in secret and run away to Dongu. Anyways, a few years latter, JGY has a kid that needs to go and people in a removed location that owe him favors! Isn’t that a wonderful combination! A Jin(?) Rusong raised by Uncles Mo and Xue, or whatever they go by these days, would be very chaotic. Bonus: they start a relatively safe demonic cultivation sect, maybe with some guidance from the Nie (has NMJ never been killed by the Jin in this Au?), or more specifically, Huaisang. SL and XXC who got a happy ending decide to check out this no blood line sect (it looks slightly dubious, but surely can’t be to bad! Right?) A-Qing at least is enjoying her new friend -🟪🦋

Should Have Been Listening - ao3

“Let go of me.”

“I won’t,” Mo Xuanyu said, clutching Xue Yang’s arm. “I won’t, I won’t! You’re my only friend here!”

Xue Yang looked down at him in what he thought was mostly exasperation, but might have also been a little fondness – after all, if it’d been anyone else who’d grabbed him, he’d have stabbed them.

He still didn’t know why he didn’t stab Mo Xuanyu, too, but in all honesty, he wasn’t that interested in exploring it. He did what he wanted, and right now, he didn’t want to murder Mo Xuanyu.

Irritating as he sometimes was.

“Little brat,” he said. “I have important business to go do.”

“It’s not something that he ordered, though!”

“So what?” Xue Yang bristled. “I don’t just do what hetells me!”

“But that means he won’t cover for you, and that means you’ll get in trouble!” Mo Xuanyu argued. “How can I let you go all alone to get in trouble? You have to take me with you! What will you do without me? Who’ll keep you entertained and sneak sweets for you if not for me?”

Xue Yang’s lips twitched. Okay, maybe there was a reason he kept the brat around.

“You don’t understand,” he said. “This is something I’ve got to do – something I’ve wanted to do for a long time. I’m going to kill a lot of people and get into a lot of trouble, more trouble than ever before. I’ll probably lose my life. How can I possibly take you with me?”

Mo Xuanyu scowled up at him. It was a very weak scowl – barely more than a pout. “You think that’s going to make me not want to come with you?”

Xue Yang’s eyebrows went up. “You cry at the sight of blood!”

“I cry at a lot of things!”

Xue Yang wasn’t sure how to respond to that. It was true, Mo Xuanyu cried at a lot of things.

“Maybe if I come with you, it won’t be so bad!”

Yeeeeah, Xue Yang wasn’t going to count on that.

“Or maybe you don’t have to go…?”

“I have to go,” he explained. “If I don’t go, I can’t get revenge, and I have to have revenge.”

Mo Xuanyu blinked up at him.

“I don’t really understand, but okay,” he said, and tugged on his arm. “Let’s go together, then. I promise I won’t cry!”

-

He cried.

He cried a lot.

-

“Stop fucking crying.”

-

“Just – ugh. Listen. You’re ruining the mood.”

-

“If you can’t stop crying, go away. Now. Or I’ll stab you!”

-

“Okay, see, look, I just killed the leaders, see? Just the old men. Everyone else is just locked in their rooms. Once the sect leader comes back, I’ll kill him too, and that’ll be all. Okay? Everyone else lives. I promise. Now stop crying, okay?”

-

“I don’t want to know,” Jin Guangyao said when they got back. “I don’t want to know at all.”

“Good,” Xue Yang grumbled. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Enough people heard about the reason for what you did that opinions are mixed as to whether your actions were the Chang clan’s just rewards for their former misdeeds or if they were actually wrong,” Jin Guangyao said. He looked irritated. “But you still killed high-ranking members of a sect, and you left enough alive that they’re demanding your head on a platter. You’re going to need to run away.”

Mo Xuanyu hesitantly gestured as if he wished to speak.

“Yes, you can go with him. Now that my father is dead, no one cares where you are.”

Mo Xuanyu beamed.

“You’re just going to let us go?” Xue Yang asked suspiciously. “That seems unlike you. What’s in it for you?”

“Oh, I’m not just going to let you go. I’m going to give you money, too,” Jin Guangyao said. “And all you need to do for me is one little tiny favor –”

Pity that that was when Xue Yang stopped listening, too busy staring at Mo Xuanyu’s delighted face and counting all the way he was in for it now.

-

“I’ve always wanted to take care of a baby,” Mo Xuanyu said happily.

“Good for you,” Xue Yang said darkly as he stalked through the streets.

He would rather that Jin Guangyao had needed a body buried and a death covered up or something – and judging by the baby’s perturbed expression, it probably agreed with him. Fuck, maybe Jin Guangyao had meant for them to murder the baby once they got it far enough out of the way. It was just as plausible as Mo Xuanyu's assumption that they were supposed to take care of it.

Damnit, maybe he should have been listening.

“Listen, neither of us are equipped to handle a baby. Go find a woman to help us – someone poor and helpless who doesn’t have any other choice.”

“Okay!”

-

Xue Yang shut his eyes. “What exactly,” he said slowly, “did you think I asked you to get us a woman for, exactly?”

“To…watch the baby?” Mo Xuanyu guessed. “When we’re busy or sleeping? Anyway, what’s wrong with A-Qing, anyway? She’s nice!”

“I’m not nice,” A-Qing said. The damn brat was smirking – and for once it wasn’t his damn brat, but some blind brat with a cocky expression. “I stole your wallet and you burst into tears and it was really embarrassing.”

“He does that,” Xue Yang said wearily. At least he’d noticed the theft this time – all of his lessons in ‘how not to be a sucker and get constantly taken advantage of’ were maybe having something of an impact. Maybe. “For some reason I’m apparently into it.”

He couldn’t explain it any other way.

“…loser.”

“I will stab you,” Xue Yang threatened. “I don’t care if you’re blind.”

“Won’t someone tell me why A-Qing isn’t a perfectly good babysitter?” Mo Xuanyu demanded. He was holding the baby in his arms again – the baby liked him more than it did Xue Yang, which meant that between Mo Xuanyu and the baby, the baby had better self-preservation instincts – and he was trying his best stern scowl which was of course barely more than a pout and a so-called ‘fierce’ expression that made Xue Yang want to laugh.

Not even Mo Xuanyu’s horrific make-up skills could make thatface intimidating. Or maybe it was just that the person behind the face was just so completely unthreatening that there was no help for it?

“Well? Tell me!”

Xue Yan opened his mouth, then shrugged and shut it again.

A-Qing patted Mo Xuanyu on the shoulder. “I’m too young. No milk.”

“…milk?”

“You know. The thing babies eat?”

“…milk,” Mo Xuanyu repeated, only now he looked absolutely heartbroken at having failed the mission that Xue Yang had assigned him almost entirely just to get him out of the way while Xue Yang collected some spare cash and threatened their way onto a ride out of this piece of shit town.

“It’s fine,” Xue Yang said hastily. “We’ll just get a goat or something, I don’t know.”

“Okay, I actually only came here to laugh at you,” A-Qing said. “But now I’m legitimately worried about this baby. Don’t you two know anything? How’d you even get a baby, anyway?”

-

“Stop laughing. It’s not that funny.”

-

“Seriously. Stop laughing, or I stab you.”

“Don’t worry, A-Qing,” Mo Xuanyu said. “He doesn’t mean it! Threats are just how he expresses affection!”

“It most certainly is not.”

“That is absolutely amazing,” A-Qing said, wiping her eyes. “Best thing I’ve ever heard., if by best I mean worse-but-hilarious. I mean. If that’s what he considers affection, what must his flirting be like?”

“No one is flirting with anyone!”

-

“Are you going to leave at some point?”

“Obviously not,” A-Qing said. She’d caught the same ride as them, using Xue Yang’s cash no less – Mo Xuanyu had insisted that it was the least they could do after the whole milk misunderstanding, which was stupid, she ought to be paying them for wasting their time. Xue Yang couldn’t wait to get rid of her, although he had to admit that she’d been pretty useful in terms of putting on the ‘poor sad blind girl and her two brothers all alone in the world’ act to get them a room at the inn at prices even Xue Yang felt comfortable paying. “Are you joking? This is so much funnier than walking by myself. Anyway, I enjoy watching people crash and burn.”

“Aren’t you too young to be such a bitch?” Xue Yang hissed. “And, I don’t know, blind?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I don’t care what you –”

The sound of crying came from the other room.

It was quickly followed by a second set of crying.

Xue Yang felt the onset of a headache.

“…truce?” A-Qing suggested sweetly, as if she knew exactly how much it pissed him off and thought it was the funniest thing ever, which was…probably accurate, actually. “I’ll get the baby to stop crying if you do the same with Mo Xuanyu.”

Yeah, that was definitely a headache. The sort of headache called why do I like that brat.

Mo Xuanyu owed him so much candy for putting up with this shit.

“Fine,” Xue Yang said begrudgingly. “Truce. Temporarily. And then you leave!”

-

“So we live here now, huh?” A-Qing said, looking around the house they’d claimed. “That’s neat.”

“Why do you live with us again?” Xue Yang asked her, though by now he barely even meant it. A-Qing was clearly another one in the same mold as Mo Xuanyu: you just couldn’t say no to her…or, rather, you could, at length and top volume and with threats, only it just didn’t stick. “I definitely did not recall asking you to stay.”

Though it was nice to have someone else around that wasn’t going to get immediately ripped off by literally anyone who came their way. Mo Xuanyu’d started getting conned by the literal infant that they were taking care of – he was completely hopeless.

Also, questionably blind or not, at least A-Qing had no hesitation about beating people with her stick if they struck her the wrong way, which was a life approach Xue Yang agreed with wholeheartedly.

“She’s going to learn to cultivate!” Mo Xuanyu chirped from where he was applying his make-up. “Demonic cultivation, too! We had a whole discussion about it while you were out getting groceries!”

That made a certain amount of sense, Xue Yang supposed. You didn’t need talent to be a demonic cultivator – technically speaking, given his bloodline, Mo Xuanyu was more naturally gifted in cultivation than Xue Yang, which was just wrong on all sorts of levels – and it was certainly more effective a defense mechanism than A-Qing’s stick. If there were two of them, they could protect Mo Xuanyu and the baby more effectively, taking shifts when needed, and Mo Xuanyu, who was also going to learn demonic cultivation no matter how many times Xue Yang had to hammer it into his head, could be the last line of defense, largely since no one would ever expect him to be able to do…anything…and they’d be right, too.

So it wasn’t the craziest idea in the world, only…

“…who is she going to be learning from, exactly!?”

-

“Have you ever considered charging for your skill in teaching cultivation lessons instead of your skill in stabbing people?” A-Qing asked one day. They were lying on the ground and having the corpses they’d raised fan them to try to reduce the temperature – it was that sort of day. Also, Mo Xuanyu, who might’ve objected, wasn’t around. “You’re not actually that bad at this. Might be more profitable, and less work. Just a thought.”

“Shut up. I’m great at stabbing people.”

“Yeah, but then after a while we have to move because people get annoyed at that, and it’s getting a little annoying to have to pack up all the time.”

“We’d have to move anyway. We’re wanted criminals, remember?”

“We could be wanted criminals with a house. Besides, wouldn’t you like to be called Teacher Xue?”

“What? No. Gross.”

-

“So you see, it turns out that they were teaching demonic cultivation in a safe and organized fashion,” Xiao Xingchen explained enthusiastically. “They’d even gathered up their own little sect! And of course everyone heard what the Chang clan did, so there’s no need to worry about them going around and murdering people at random – it was a targeted revenge scheme.”

“We’re working on teaching them regular cultivation,” Song Lan agreed, nodding. “To help mitigate the negative effects of demonic cultivation…well, we started out by just teaching them.”

“It turned out that they’d been secretly teaching all of the local delinquents, too, or at least Mo-gongzi had been teaching a few and Mistress Qing was teaching a few others, and even Sect Leader Xue had a few disciples,” Xiao Xingchen said, politely omitting or possibly having not noticed the fact that Mo Xuanyu had been teaching his ‘friends’ (read: scammers trying to take advantage of him), while A-Qing and Xue Yang had each been trying to form competing gangs and/or obtain lackeys. Xue Yang didn’t mind the oversight, largely on account of the fact that A-Qing had been winning, damn her – he’d kept getting distracted by inventing new things. “And a few of them had real talent – and you know that Zichen and I have always wanted to start a sect of our own, with no bloodline ties –”

“We’re joining their sect,” Song Lan said. “We’ll be leading the orthodox side, while they lead the demonic cultivation aspect – safely, of course.”

“I guess it’s better than them being crazy,” Jiang Cheng said. He sounded dubious. “I don’t like it, but at least all the demonic cultivators can be in one spot, you know?”

He made it sound like they’d be dropping off new ones there in the future.

Like they’d opened up some sort of pet rescue and were taking in unwanted puppies or something.

“Agreed,” Nie Mingjue said. “To the extent that they aren’t causing active harm, containment seems an appropriate remedy here. Who seconds the motion?”

“I do,” Lan Xichen said, and smiled at the newly agreed-upon sect. “Welcome back to the cultivation world, Sect Leader Xue.”

-

“I don’t want to know,” Jin Guangyao said, glaring.

“Don’t worry,” Xue Yang told him. “This comes as much of a shock to me as to you.”

The glare intensified, but that was fine. Jin Guangyao’s facial expressions, however minor and generally overlooked, had been the only thing getting him through that awful, awful meeting just now where people kept trying to salute him and make him salute back and if he didn’t then he was letting down Mo Xuanyu (who would send him a sad look) and A-Qing (who would hear about it from Mo Xuanyu later and then find a way to step on his foot right when he was concentrating on something).

Not to mention their two new resident lovebirds, who looked so righteous and proper from the outside but who also may or may not have accidentally full-on actually resurrected some dead asshole cultivator more or less the first time they’d joined Xue Yang in his demonic cultivation laboratory – which would have been fine, you know, that happened in demonic cultivation though not normally to quite such a wow-is-he-actually-alive extent, except that the guy’s intermittent moments of clarity suggested that his two new sect members might have just brought back the Yiling Patriarch himself, which was going to make all of them wanted criminal again the second anyone found out about it.

Ugh.

Being called sect leader was completely not worth this shit.

Xue Yang comforted himself with the reminder that later today he was planning on publicly introducing Jin Guangyao to the Xue sect’s head junior disciple “Xue Song” and announcing loudly that the brat needed some lessons in manners, that he’d heard that that was Lianfeng-zun’s specialty, and nominating him to take care of the kid while they were visiting.

See how the fucker liked that.

“I always knew Xue-gege could do great things!” Mo Xuanyu said, clapping his hands as A-Qing rolled her (by now, Xue Yang was almost definitely sure not actually blind) eyes behind his back. “As long as I went with him!”

[pies-writes-and-more]

the first time saying I love you p. 2

Warnings: nothing! Maybe some swearing but all fluff!

Characters: Iwaizumi Hajime, Oikawa Toru, & Tsukishima Kei, all with a Fem!Reader

A/N: Thank you so much @livy384​ for asking for a part 2 of this idea!!! I was so excited to see someone wanted to see more of one of my headcanons haha. So here you go lovely!! A big thank you as usual to my inspiration babies @thisnoodlewritesao3​ and @satan-ruler-of-hells​ <3  Also I’m sorry I know Oikawa’s is shorter than the others but I’ve never written for him or thought about writing for him so i’m so very sorry if it sucks xD

pt. 1

Iwaizumi Hajime Who says it first: Neither of you

It was supposed to have been a really cute date - Iwaizumi had remembered you telling your friend that there was a market near by that you’ve always wanted to go visit, but never had anyone to go with. Naturally, Iwaizumi tucked that information in the back of his brain and planned.

It was a Saturday and Iwaizumi had somehow managed to get himself away from practice, making you smile wide when he asked if you wanted to spend the day together. You knew he felt a little bad lately, being so busy with volleyball, and as much as you never blamed him for it, you were happy to be spoiled with his presence. When he started walking you towards the market, your eyes went wide, looking at all the cute stalls that you wanted to visit and the items you wanted to check out.

“Iwa!” You grinned up at him, shaking his arm excitedly. “How did you know I wanted to go here?”

He just shrugged and gave you a smile, patting your head gently, “Let’s find some cute things for my cute girlfriend hm?” You beamed and happily took his hand, the two of you going around to each stall.

There was too much to look at honestly and you wanted nothing more than to carry bundles of everything home. Iwa managed to sneak away from you for a second while you talked to a stall owner, picking out a necklace for you and holding it close to his chest for a moment, just thinking of you. Meanwhile, you managed to find a beautiful lucky charm to give him for his next game. He never really needed it but you always liked the gesture of being the one to give it to him anyways.

It was a perfect date so far.

And then Oikawa showed up.

“Iwa!” He grinned, waving from afar. You laughed, realizing that Oikawa had most likely followed you guys here. You never minded him tagging along on your dates (though the girls that followed him were sometimes a bit extreme), but Iwaizumi on the other hand... never seemed too happy to see his best friend.

Iwaizumi groaned loudly, annoyed at himself for casually mentioning that he’d be bringing you here this weekend, “Why are you here?” He grumbled, glaring at his friend as he made his way over.

Oikawa just pouted, “I just wanted to make sure you were being nice to Y/N!”

“When am I ever mean to Y/N?”

“I dunno, but you’re mean to me and I’m your best friend so I just assumed it was how you show affection,” Oikawa chuckled and gave you a wave, “Are you two having fun?”

You nodded and glanced around at all the other stalls you still wanted to visit, “There’s so much to look at! Are you looking to get anything, Oikawa?”

The boy just smiled and looked around, “I dunno, I’ll have to look around some! What did you two get?” He asked, nodding at the little bags and packages you were holding.

“Oh! I found this cute little decoration for my parents’ kitchen,” you explain, showing off some of the little knickknacks you found. “I wanted to find some sort of accessory for myself. Maybe like a barrette or a bracelet,” you admitted, eyes drifting away again as if you would be able to find something from where you were standing.

“Like this?” Oikawa asked, peeking into Iwaizumi’s bag and pulling out a little jewlery box, opening it to see the necklace that Iwaizumi had bought you.

“You asshole! Give that back!” Iwaizumi’s eyes went wide, realizing he had had his eyes locked on you the whole time you were talking because you were just so cute, he hadn’t even noticed Oikawa practically pickpocketing him.

Oikawa’s bottom lip just stuck out again, huffing and holding the item farther away from his best friend, “Why are you so mean? If you bought it for her, shouldn’t you give it to her? What, were you just going to let her buy something else for herself and waste her money?”

Iwaizumi’s whole face was red. He didn’t want to yell out his whole plan to the market, let alone to Oikawa when you were standing right there, laughing at the whole encounter.

“Stop being so shy, Iwa,” Oikawa cooed, smiling as he looked at you, “I’m sure she thinks it’s really cute that you buy her things to show her you love her!”

“Shittykawa, please shut the hell up,” Iwaizumi glared at his friend, still trying to grab the box away from him.

“Aw don’t put words in his mouth, Oikawa,” you giggled, smiling up at your boyfriend and his friend, “I think he just does it cause he’s sweet.”

Oikawa noticed the way you were so quick to dismiss his words, glancing between you and Iwaizumi, completely confused, “What do you mean?”

“Oikawa, I swear to god, please go before I kill you,” Iwaizumi was practically clawing his hands up to Oikawa’s neck, his whole body feeling flustered.

“Iwaizumi, did you tell her you didn’t want to be embarrassed in front of your friends? It’s okay! She can know I know! It’s not like you don’t talk about it all the time.”

“Talk about what?” You asked, growing more confused as the conversation went on.

“About how much he loves you! He talks about it all the time with the team!” Oikawa beamed, finally letting Iwaizumi grab the jewelry box from his hands.

Your eyes go wide, looking over at Iwaizumi, who seemed suddenly very concerned over kicking some dust on the ground. His whole face was red, eyes looking literally anywhere but at you.

“You love me?” You squeaked out nervously.

“No! I-I mean, yes but- hang on,” your boyfriend groaned. He had the whole thing planned out, he had wanted to tell you a whole speech about how much he loved you and now that whole plan was absolutely ruined.

Oikawa’s body froze as he watched the two of you, sheepishly laughing, “Oh... I spoiled it didn’t I? That’s what the necklace was for hm?”

“Shittykawa, if one more word leaves your lips-” Iwaizumi huffed, punching his arm with an annoyed look on his face.

“I’m sorry, Iwa! I didn’t mean to spoil your first love confession! But honestly, I’m such a big part of your life, maybe it’s better this way-” Oikawa grinned, obviously trying to lift up some of the tension.

“I’m going to count to three, and if you’re not gone by the end of it, I will literally bury you alive.” There was something different about this death threat, a growl in Iwaizumi’s throat building with his anger.

Oikawa’s smile tensed and he just turned to you with a little wave, “I suddenly remembered I have to be literally anywhere else but here. Have a nice date! Please convince him not to kill me!”

You had never seen Oikawa dash away so quickly, his figure gone almost immediately after waving goodbye.

Iwaizumi seemed so angry, all you could was offer a small smile, “You okay?” You asked softly, touching his arm gently.

He seemed to relax a bit at your touch, sighing and just turning to look at you, “Yeah. Please don’t listen to anything he says. He’s literally an idiot.”

You smiled shyly, rocking on your heels awkwardly, “So... you don’t love me then?”

Iwaizumi’s eyes widened immediately, shaking his hands in front of him quickly in denial, “N-No. I mean. Yes. Just don’t listen to him. But yes, I love you.” He hesitated for a moment, seeming to watch your eyes. “Unless you don’t love me back, then we can just pretend none of this happened,” he mumbled shyly, rubbing the back of his head.

You couldn’t help but giggle, pushing his arm playfully, “You idiot. Of course I love you.”

He blinked in surprise, staring at your face and trying to make sure you weren’t just joking with him, “Oh. Well in that case, this is for you.” He handed you the small box holding the necklace, watching as you open it to find a small pendant of your favourite animal. “The heart ones just seemed so cheesy,” he admitted with a shrug. “But I hope you think of me whenever you wear it.”

Your heart literally grew three sizes, this boy was being so cute and sweet. You nodded up at him happily, still admiring your new necklace, which was exactly what you had hoped to find at the market, “I will.”

He whispered another “I love you” to you as he helped clasp the necklace behind your neck, pressing a kiss to your cheek from behind and sending a tingle down your spine. 

He said “I love you” to you every hour after that - if his surprise was going to be spoiled, he was going to spoil you with those words over and over again, never wanting you to forget how he feels about you.

Oikawa Toru Who says it first: You

Oikawa was literally the worst person to study with - he was always so distracting. How could someone who barely looks at his notes during your study dates be in Class 6? He was always busy with volleyball anyways, so how was it possible that he had any other time to do work?

“Hurry up and finish your work so we can go do something fun,” Oikawa hummed with a smirk on his face, having already finished his homework. He refused to let you look at his answers, or even help you, because “how are you supposed to learn, Y/N?” Smug ass look on his face how rude. “I might just have to go on some adventure on my own while I wait for you to finally finish.”

You just roll your eyes and mumble something about hating him making him laugh.

“Aww, is someone pouting?” He teased, ruffling up your hair happily. “I’m sorry, baby, I just love looking at your cute concentration face!”

You rolled your eyes, glaring at him playfully, “You’re refusing to help me because you want to look at my face? Take a picture why don’t you.”

“I already have,” he beamed, showing you the new background for his phone. You did not look the least bit attractive in your opinion, but Oikawa was smiling so happily at the photo, how could you argue?

“You’re an idiot,” you mumble with a huff, scribbling a half-assed answer on your sheet of paper.

“Aw come on, Y/N,” Oikawa smirked, sliding closer to you and tilting your chin up with a singular finger so you were forced to look him in the eyes. “You know you love me,” he teased in that fake sultry voice of his.

Normally, you’d just get a bit flustered - there was just something about those bedroom eyes of his eyes that made you squirm. But here, just sitting here with him and realizing that even when he took ugly pictures of you, this perfect pretty boy still wanted to be with you... you realized there wasn’t a single person you’d rather be with right now. Or ever.

“Ya you’re right,” you smiled up at him, pulling away from his teasing look and turning back to your homework. “I do love you.”

The expression on his face was probably photo worthy and later, you’d wish you had snapped a picture of it. The utter shock was enough to send all the blood flying out of his face, a nosebleed soon ensuing.

“Oikawa! Are you okay?” You asked with wide eyes, rushing to get tissues.

“F-Fine! I’m fine!” The fact that all the blood was rushing to his rosy cheeks probably wasn’t helping his nosebleed, only making it flow faster.

The two of you laughed when his bleeding was under control, Oikawa blushing enough to look like a marker colour, “You can’t just say stuff like that to a guy, Y/N! That’s so mean! Teasing me like that.” He pouted, crossing his arms like a child.

You tilted your head slightly, watching him for a moment before saying, “Teasing? What do you mean? I meant it, Oikawa, you idiot.”

His eyes would just widen and suddenly homework wasn’t all that important anymore.

“Oikawa! it’s due this week!” You insisted as he dragged you out of the house, your hand firmly held in his.

“Too bad! We’re going for ice cream!” He declared with a grin. “Oh and Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“I love you too. Idiot.” His smile was as wide as ever but there was a genuine love in his eyes as he looked at you, soon leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek.

But don’t worry, later he’d help you with your homework. As long as you said “I love you” to him one more time.

Tsukishima Who says it first: Him

Tsukishima says he loves you in actions more than he does words at first, throwing you snacks that he carries with him specifically for you, when he notices you getting hungry. He’ll bring an extra hoodie or wear one when he knows he’ll get too warm for it, because he knows you like to be comfy and warm. He offers to come over and study with you when you’re getting nervous over a test, holds your hand and squeezes it gently if he notices you getting anxious over something, and he walks you to and from home every day.

He loves you. And even though you can feel it through his actions, you weren’t quite sure if he was ready to hear that you loved him too.

Honestly, you would’ve been fine just going about your relationship the way that it was. But of course, what good would having upperclassmen in his volleyball team be if they didn’t annoy the shit out of him and talk about your relationship?

Tanaka had been going on and on in the club room about how badly he wanted a girlfriend, pouting to himself because he was still unsure of how Tsukishima, a salty brat, managed to get a cute girlfriend like you before he did.

“God it must be so nice to have someone to hug and hold hands with and tell them ‘I love you’ every five seconds! If I had a girlfriend, I wouldn’t let her leave my presence until she knew how much I loved her!” Tanaka was saying, Noya nodding aggressively in agreement.

Tsukishima’s ears perked hearing this, pulling his gym shirt over his head as he got ready to head home for the night.

“How did you do it, Tsukishima?” Noya asked randomly, a grin on his face. “I bet you’re secretly super romantic aren’t you? You got her flowers and chocolates and stuff huh?”

“How did I do what?” Tsukishima asked flatly, glancing back at them. The second years shared a look and then looked back at him, both tilting their heads simultaneously.

“How did you first tell Y/N you loved her,” Tanaka explained, his eyes narrowing as he watched Tsukishima’s eyes move away from them. “Wait a minute, you haven’t told her yet?”

“Tsukishima! You asshole! Don’t you know how lucky you are to have such a cute girl on your arm? Always doing cute things for you like that time she made you a bento box? Or when she comes to our games and always cheers the loudest for us?” Noya’s yelling was soon turning into a tearful whine, still upset that he didn’t have these things that Tsukishima did.

The blond boy just tried to turn away, packing up his things as his upperclassmen moaned.

“Tanaka, Noya, leave the boy alone,” Sugawara scolded. “I’m sure Tsukishima’s going to tell her on his own time! Aren’t you, Tsukishima?” His voice was so sweet, as if he was only trying to help him out, but Sugawara’s eyes told a different story - one where he was really trying to pry an answer from the first year.

All eyes were on him once again and Tsukishima was silently wishing he had left earlier without getting dressed. The question loomed over the club room like a raincloud, pressure on Tsukishima’s answer building the more the silence lasted.

“Sure,” he answered finally before leaving the room, shifting his bag on his shoulder slightly. He hadn’t really thought about it before. Why hadn’t he told you yet? He knew he loved you, it’s not like he was an idiot in denial over it. He had spent a good year in denial but he wouldn’t admit it. He knew he loved you but why hadn’t he said anything yet?

The idea of telling you made his whole face feel hot but why? It’s not like he hadn’t sent you songs about love, or watched those sappy romantic movies with you and thought about you the whole time. So why hadn’t he said it? It was just three words after all, wasn’t it? Three little words.

There you were, waiting for him again outside of the gym. You had that cute little smile on your face that you always had whenever you caught his eye. He loved that smile.

“Ready?” You asked happily, him holding out his arm for you slightly and you link yours with it and just look up at him with those gorgeous eyes. He loved your eyes.

“How was practice?” You asked as the two of you walked and he told you all about how annoying Hinata and Kageyama was, you always laughing when he expressed his annoyance. He loved your laugh.

At some point while you two were walking home, Tsukishima felt himself stop. He could feel Tanaka and Noya’s words starting to get to him, an uneasy feeling in his stomach making him feel... different. He knew if he didn’t say it now, he never would.

“Tsukishima?” You blinked up at him, noting the way he stopped so abruptly. “Are you okay?”

He took a breath - if you were going to reject him, that would be fine. Everything would be fine. No it wouldn’t, he heard that little voice in his head say. What the hell would we do without you?

Despite his conflicting thoughts on the matter, Tsukishima pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to silence them as he managed to get out weakly, “I love you, Y/N.”

You just stood there for what felt like forever. Why weren’t you saying anything? His heart fell a little as you just stared at him, your face not betraying any of your emotions.

“What?” You squeaked.

He sighed frustratedly, unsure if you were trying to give him a way to go back on his words, or if you were really this deaf. “I love you,” he repeated himself, his voice louder and firmer this time. If he was going to get rejected, it wouldn’t be because he backed down. He would make sure of it.

But soon your lips were curling into that smile that he loved, your eyes were sparkling up at him, and a giggle fell from your lips, “I-I love you too, Tsukishima!” You beamed, hopping a little where you stood in excitement.

He couldn’t hide how happy that made him. His lips turned into a smile and he reached up to pat your head, his arm wrapping around your shoulders, “Alright, stop looking at me like. It’s late, we should get you home,” he told you, scolding you as if you had been the one to stop first.

But it didn’t matter. Because Tsukishima Kei said he loved you and those were the last three words you had ever expected him to say, even though you had felt the same all this time.

For the first time ever, Tsukishima actually took the advice of his upperclassmen and made it his promise to himself that he would never let you leave his sight without telling you “I love you”, even if it had to be over text because he wasn’t quite ready to say it in front of everyone else yet. But he would tell you over and over again, because even when he was annoyed at you or in a bad mood, Tsukishima loved you and he didn’t ever want you to think otherwise.

Haikyuu taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added!)

@scphiredrafts​ @aurumk​ @devilkittymusic​ @thisnoodlewritesao3​ @satan-ruler-of-hells​ @trashy-simp​ @jeppiet​ @lucyheartfilias-wife​ @darkvadeeer​ @haikyuutothetop​ @wolfishwriting​

[giorno-plays-piano]

Vicious

Part IV

Pairing: Steve x reader, Bucky x reader, Thor x reader, Loki x reader, Peter x reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, stalking, possessiveness, theft, all characters are adults.

Words: 1880.

Summary: Transferring to Stark Academy that has only allowed to take in female students last semester, you realize you are just one of three young women among hundreds of students. Your things are constantly being stolen, and soon you begin fearing for your safety.

Part I

Part II

Part III

_________

After you came back to your room, you got a message from Steve about changing the locks on both you door and your locker. You were so taken aback by today's conversation in the student council room that you had completely forgotten about it. Apparently, Steve had already requested the change of locks on your behalf through email, and you were really grateful to him for that: you dreaded coming back to the room that had been forced open. Of course, tonight you would have to move your dresser to the door so that nobody could enter when you'd be sleeping.

Shit. It was absolutely crazy.

"I'm not sure about all this, Steve." You texted him while laying on your bed and staring at your phone in the darkness of the room. "It doesn't seem right."

Naturally, you meant the fake dating thing. It felt horrible thinking of what others would think after seeing you with five different guys. Would they be calling you a whore in the open? Make some nasty jokes behind your back? Report you to the school administration for immoral behavior? Remembering those bigots from the student office, you cringed at the thought.

Besides, it still didn't make sense to you why you had to date all five. Sure, if they were around you at all times like your friends, these unhinged bastards who stole your things wouldn't do anything funny again, but it wasn't like that. What could one guy do against a group of other students?

"Listen, I didn't want to talk about it in class, but I'm worried it won't end with a stolen lingerie."

You didn't like his message.

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. They might attempt something much worse than a theft."

Oh no. Was he talking about rape? Seriously? Did he anticipate others were so crazy they would do something like that?

But then again, girls were being raped in colleges even if it weren't the all-boys schools. A shiver ran down your spine.

"But if several people attack me, just one of you won't be enough." You typed with your shaky fingers, trembling beneath your blanket.

"It's not about the pure force. Each of us has a certain reputation, and others wouldn't want to cross us over because of it."

Wait, this was interesting. What on Earth did he mean? What kind of reputation was that to prevent people from messing with them?

"Thor is a good athlete and a great leader, his basketball team is ready to beat people to death for him."

"Loki's father is one of academy’s main sponsors, and he can have this school turned upside down if he wants to."

"Bucky is a threat by himself, but he also have a company of loyal friends."

"I don't think Peter is serious enough to scare anyone, but with his computer skills he could easily blackmail others, I’ve already seen him doing it. Students would be wary to cross him over just like any of us."

Steve was writing you a bunch of messages with a terrifying speed, and you could barely read the first when he was already sending you the second. It felt absolutely insane. Did he choose every guy because the more powerful admirers you have, the less others would intervene? Well, at least in case of Bucky and Thor who could beat people to near death, it was wise. You preferred not to think of Peter - you had no idea someone as sweet and caring as him did something as disgusting as a blackmail.

“But what others will think? 5 boyfriends? Others will think you are dating-” you paused, chewing your lips to bit, “- a whore. Nobody gonna stood up for me.”

"Imagine if each of us tells our friends that other four guys were just asked to watch over you, but you date only one.”

Oh. Yes, this was slightly better. Then you wouldn’t have to do something as bold as kissing every guy in public, instead maintaining the mystery who you were really dating. 

Damn, how Steve even came up with this plan? Why was everything so complicated?

“It’s getting late. Good night.” Your phone vibrated again, and you huffed with irritation. You hoped you could ask him a bit more - about what you were going to do with the thieves Steve found, for example - but he was probably getting tired with all your questions. It was better to ask him tomorrow.

___________________

The next morning you were restless: since you were starting to going out with guys, you felt like you needed to look better than you usually were, so you spent your morning working on your hair and makeup. It was like fake dating, right? You had to pretend you wanted to look pretty for them.

What else did you have to do? Cook something sweet for them? Yeah, probably, but not at the start of your relationship. Going to cafe together? Helping each other study? Loki also mentioned the cinema...

You felt dumb. Of course, you dated guys before, but now you realized you had no idea how to act not to cause any suspicion. Oh boy, it was going to be a tough day.

Thor nocked at you door thirty minutes before your first session, but you woke up so early you were more than ready to go. As you opened the door, first moving the dresser back to its place, the guy looked at you with a puzzled expression on his face.

"Hey, what was that?"

"The dresser. I can't leave the door just like that until the lock is changed."

He blinked at you, watching the door and then probably remembering somebody forced the lock open to steal your underwear.

"These guys are batshit crazy." He mumbled and nodded you to go with him, putting his hand on your shoulder. "Don't worry, they won't do it again."

You wanted to argue they definitely would, but, seeing his warm smile, you thought Thor simply wanted to cheer you up and smiled at him in return. In the end, he was here only to make you feel safer: you didn't doubt he was very popular with the girls every time he went out to the city.

"You look great today!" He said sheepishly, walking in the dorm's corridor while other students were staring at him silently, obviously surprised to see you two together. "I mean, not that you looked bad yesterday, I just..."

Watching his face suddenly getting crimson red, you couldn't help but giggle at his expression. You could never think Thor was actually bashful around girls. Yeah, at your old place he'd definitely be one of the most popular guys around.

It was lunch time when you two could actually talk, sitting together at the same table and being watched by everyone around. Strangely, with Thor constantly talking and often rubbing your hand with his, it didn't feel suffocating, and you held your head high: regardless whether those pricks were looking at you, you weren't going to run away to your room and cry there like a little girl. Loki was right: you weren't a silly little sheep, scared of your own shadow. You wouldn't let anyone spoil your time in the academy you dreamt studying in.

Funny enough, Thor turned out to be a talkative type when he was speaking about basketball and his team in particular. He loved sports: while you were more into hockey, the way he talked was so enthusiastic it made you listen to him with a genuine interest. Thor's love for basketball was infectious.

He seemed a simple man, this giant bag of muscles who was laughing so loud people around him flinched; Thor wasn't the exact type of a guy you would encounter on your own, but he seemed nice, sincere, and surprisingly softhearted. You felt at ease talking to him, and soon you too acted like you'd known each other for long.

It was a pity you'd only met under this circumstances. It felt like you two could became friends.

But then when Thor absent-mindedly put his arm around your shoulders, you remembered Loki's warning: they would try to gain your favors. Was it the reason Thor was so nice to someone he just met? Wasn't it suspicious of him? You couldn't let your guard down after just one lunch together. In fact, you knew nothing of the man sitting in front of you.

"I knew something like would happen." Some guy to your left sighed loudly, catching your attention. "They were fucking crazy."

"I'm not surprised either. I just wanna know who they got in a fight with to be beaten like that. Have you heard they broke Gray's both legs?"

"Woah, both? That's brutal, man."

You shivered, trying not to listen to them.

"It'd happen sooner or later anyway. They were completely wild."

A word caught your attention right away: that was what Steve called those students who were stealing your things. Could it be a coincidence? Surely, in an all-boys school the students were fighting each other constantly.

But to the point of breaking both legs of someone? Really?

As you sent Thor a nervous look, he gently patted your shoulder, lowering his voice so no one would hear him, "I'm sure it's nothing to do with you. These things happen here from time to time because the guys have no idea what to do with all that testosterone."

You hoped he was right.

The rest of the day went as usual aside from Thor walking the corridors with you and chatting about sports: he managed to convince you to come see the game next month when they would be having a tournament. You were grateful to him for helping to ease your mind because the news of guys being sent to the ambulance made you shook. Steve also mentioned something about his and other's friends ready to beat anyone to death, right?

By the middle of your last class you couldn't think of it any longer and quickly typed a message to Loki. Of all people, right now he seemed the most sincere to you.

"Hi. Are the guys who were beaten last night are the ones who stole my things?"

Waiting was a special torture when you held the phone in your arms beneath your desk, hoping to see your screen lighting up with a message. In five minutes you got your reply.

"Yes." The message said simply, but it was enough for you to stare at your phone with horror, wishing you didn't ask Loki anything.

Oh shit. It wasn't a coincidence, right? It's impossible. Somebody did it on purpose. But who of the five?

"Do you know who did it?"

Next time he answered pretty fast, "No."

A part of you felt relieved. Maybe it wasn't related, finally. Maybe they got beaten by somebody who was fed up with their attitude because they were crazy as the guys in the cafeteria said.

But what if it weren't true?

"Who's the most brutal among you five?"

Biting your lips, you started rocking in your chair a little, making the guy on your left to roll his eyes in irritation.

The phone's screen flashed again.

"Barnes."

Part V

_________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin ​@inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherub @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @soleil-dor @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @ximebebx @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @sourpatchspinster @biiskuitx @iheartsebandchris @lovelydarkdaydream @illyrianprincess @vampirestrawberries @stupendouslovegardener @goodgodimaweirdperson @frontmanash @freya-heya @yandematic

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

Wrong Number, Asshole - A Bakugou Katsuki Soulmate AU

All Parts

Part 25:

You blinked blearily, rubbing the sleep away from your eyes.

For a minute you were disoriented, head spinning in confusion until you pieced together where you were. Who’s apartment you were in. Who was currently still fast asleep in your lap.

You flushed, still just as affected by his proximity as you were earlier. Except- it was slightly different now. Those little kitten snores? The ones you’d previously only heard over the phone? Well, now they were falling from his mouth in real time- in real life. In front of you. He was so close and warm and soft and uncharacteristically quiet and all you wanted to do was kiss him. 

The past few days, you’d been so focused on how he’d lied and his injuries that you’d almost forgotten just how much you liked him. You couldn’t forget now. Not with the way he had a hand under his cheek, fingers just barely curling your sweatshirt in his sleepy grip.

Your fingers itched with the need to touch him- to somehow expel all that rolling fondness and affection that was boiling over in you. You couldn’t help yourself, your fingers beginning to once again move lightly through his hair, scratching idly at his scalp as you went. 

You knew he’d be mad at your actions if he was awake- or flustered and embarrassed at the very least. But you just wanted to be nice to him. To show him how much you cared about him, and you were determined to do that- even if he seemed absolutely allergic to it. 

So you sat and stared shamelessly and soaked up the proximity and warmth radiating off his body. And it was perfect and serene and so sugary sweet for a while- until you realized how much your legs hurt.

They hurt and ached and were sore because Katsuki was heavy.

Absurdly heavy.

And the thing about him was, you were only supporting his head and his shoulders! On your legs too- not even your arms! Even so though, the honest to god weight of him was just ridiculous. He was a solid mass of nothing but strength and power and, quite frankly, ludicrous musculature. And if he wasn’t murdering your legs right now, and not in the fun way, you’re absolutely sure you’d be much more thrilled about these facts.

As it stands now though, nothing but an escape plan was on your mind. Even if the rest of you was only screaming to pull him closer.

“Katsuki.” You tried once more, prodding at his cheek lightly. “Katsuki, c’mon-time to get up.”

He had no reaction. Not even an eye twitch when you ghosted your hands over his face. In all honesty it seemed like he was dead. His breathing was so deep and slow it was almost non-existant and when you called him name, no matter how many times you said it, there wasn’t even a mumble- now whether that was effect of the pain meds or just him ignoring you, you had no idea.

Sighing with finality, and a genuine apology, you lifted his head. It was a struggle, and his unresponsiveness surely didn’t help, but eventually you escaped. You slipped a pillow under his head, patted his cheek fondly, and left towards his kitchen.

Now, was the easy part. Or was supposed to be the easy part- but considering this was Katsuki you should’ve known better.

His fridge was packed to the brim, overflowing with ingredients, but they were all ridiculous health foods. You wanted familiarity and comfort and grease- not green. Not the terrible, bitter, dark green vegetables that seemed to be the only thing he had.

What kind of guy doesn’t have junk food? You thought, shaking your head in utter disbelief. And he tells me I’m the weird one?

With a sigh, you begin rifling through the drawers for something at least a bit fattening, and you can’t kid yourself, it does soothe that itch from earlier. That weird, tingling, constant itch to pick apart every little detail and mix and match them together until you knew every possible thing about Bakugou there was to know. Until you knew things about him that no one else did- until you knew him better than he even knew himself.

And maybe that was selfish, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care all that much. If talking to him, knowing him was intoxicating before, just over the phone, than it was an addiction now. Here in this apartment, surrounded entirely by pieces of him, Katsuki felt real. He felt tangible and honest and complete, and you’d never be satisfied with just texts and phone calls again.

Grinning widely, you grabbed the blocks of cheese, and a few different freshly-cut herbs. Inspiration had struck, and within the weirdly hearty contents of his refridgerator lied your saving grace.

Grilled cheese- because at the end of the day, you were a child through and through.

Gathering the rest of the ingredients, and searching for a pan, you couldn’t contain the warmth in your chest. Not only were you going to be eating good food, but you were sharing it. With your soulmate. It was a weird little bit of domesticity, preparing a meal for him, but you couldn’t say you hated it.

Apparently, you’d made too much noise with the pan, because suddenly you hear shuffling. Glancing behind you, Katsuki is grumbling under his breath as he clambers into the kitchen. He’s all loose limbs and sleepy grunts, grumpily throwing himself down into a seat at the counter, just a few feet away from you.

“Jesus fuckin’ christ, sunshine, could you be any goddamn louder?”

You’re not sure if it’s the combination of the nickname and his crackling sleep-laden voice, or maybe it’s the way his cheeks are stil warmed from sleep, but you melt. Practically dissolve into the floor beneath you. That feeling- that aching one from earlier where all you wanted to do was kiss him silly? Yeah, it’s back now. Back in full-force and unleashing a hellish barrage of butterflies in your stomach.

“Nothin’ to say? Yeah. Thought so. Idiot.” He barks.

“Not a morning person?” You recover, quickly turning back to the stove. Hopefully it’ll cover up the absolute hearts you currently had for eyes.

“It’s 8 PM.”

“It was a joke, angry man.” You laugh. Turning back, you sneak a glance at him, completely unable to help yourself. “Don’t be so grumpy.”

“I’m not fuckin’ grumpy.”

Bakugou mumbles it so quietly and petulantly that you almost can’t hold back your squeal. There he is, just feet away, currently holding the title for World’s Most Adorable Pout and you couldn’t do anything!

Well, maybe you could- if you were bolder and stronger. But you weren’t. Right now you felt weak.

“You could just go back to sleep, you know.” You finally say.

“And let ya fuck up my kitchen unsupervised?” He yawns widely, rubbing at his eyes. “No fuckin’ thanks.”

“It’s only grilled cheese, I think I’ll manage.”

“Grilled cheese? Am I five or some shit?”

“No- but I am. And it’s what I’m making.” You supplied, an easy smile gracing your lips. “So it’s either you have one too, or you starve to death. Your choice, Katsuki dear.”

He blushes when you look at him, hiding it behind his hand. “Yeah. Whatever. Just make sure it’s fucking edible.”

“That’s a tall order, angry man. I might not be able to do it.” You say teasingly, terribly high on a mixture of him and your own fuzzy feelings. “We’ll see, huh?”

Katsuki just nods, dropping his head into his hands. He still looks tired, his eyes half-lidded and eyebrows drawn low, but he’s fighting sleep. Every time you turn to glance at him, he’s blinking himself awake, and every time you turn away you can feel his eyes on your back. It was sweet- until it wasn’t. Until he ruined it.

“Your knife skills are fuckin’ terrible, idiot.”

“Wow- thanks.” You snort, but your motions don’t cease. You’re steady and sure with your chops, even in the face of his ridiculous criticism. “And to think I went to all this trouble for you.”

“You’re just chopping stupid onions.”

“And caramelizing them!” You defend, adding the diced onions into your pan full of oil. You turn back to him, brandishing your knife playfully. “Which you’d know if you let me get that far!”

“A knife! In my own fuckin’ kitchen? That supposed to be a shitty ass threat or somethin’?”

“No, if I was gonna threaten you, I wouldn’t use a knife. That’s just a bad battle tactic, really”

“Yeah?” He takes the bait, perks up a little bit as an easy smile rolls across his face. “What’d you fuckin’ use then, idiot?”

“Fire extinguisher.”

Katsuki’s amused- you know he is, can see it in the way his eyes shine, but he’s fighting it. He’s pulling his mouth into a half-hearted grimace and scowling at you when he replies.

“You’re not fuckin’ funny. That wasn’t funny.”

“I am and it was, but that’s okay.” You shrug, going back to carmelizing the onions. They’re nearly done now, and you add a few spices and a dash more oil in with them. “Can’t win ‘em all, I guess.”

“You’re talking like you can win any.”

“Hey! I’d be careful there, angry man. I know where you live, you know.”

That does elicit a snort from him, and you can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks. “You plannin’ to kill me in my sleep?”

“Now if I told you that wouldn’t very much of a plan, would it?”

“No. Guess even a dumbass like you can understand that much.”

“Katsuki,” You sigh dreamily, turning your head to bat your eyelashes at him dramatically. “You have such a way with words! Makes a girl feel so special.”

He seems stunned for a moment, before he blushes and averts his eyes. Recovery for him takes a second- but only just a second.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re so fuckin’ funny.” He grumbles, mouth drawn into a thin line. “What’s got you so goddamn cheery anyway?”

“Took a nap. Feelin’ energized.”

“When?”

“When you took one?” You say, idly stirring the ingredients in the pan. “What- you thought I was awake the whole time? That I did nothing but just pet your hair and watch you sleep? For hours?”

He doesn’t say anything, and that seals it for you.

Katsuki had to be the cutest thing on Earth. Just the most adorable little rabid thing who you wanted to keep forever and hug super close and maybe kiss all over. He was precious, and when you looked over to see that he was indeed blushing- well, those feelings only multiplied 1000x over.

“N-no! I didn’t! Fuck no! Don’t be fucking stupid!” He defends, all sleep now gone from his features. “I didn’t! I didn’t and I don’t so shut the fuck up about it!”

You’re not sure if it was the nap or his flustered state that gives you strength, but you’re crossing the room before you can help it. Standing just on the other side of the counter, you lean across it on your elbows, catching his gaze. There’s feelings fluttering wildy in your chest- warm, blistering, uncontainable feelings threatening to burst through your skin and you find you just can’t help yourself.

“Would you like me to pet your hair and watch you sleep for hours? Huh? Katsuki?”

He damn near jolts in his seat- back ridgid and jaw set and eyes so very, very, alive. Flushing, red gathers around his cheeks and his neck and the tips of his ears. Your ears ring prematurely in anticipation, in pure sympathy for the way your ear drums are seconds away from being burst entirely.

“Why the fuck- I didn’t! Why the fuck would you even say that?” He screams, voice tearing from his throat with a feral growl. “You think your funny or some shit? Asking weird shit and being fucking weird in my goddamn kitchen? Tryna start a fuckin’ fight with me? I’ll start a fuckin’ fight!”

Bakugou square his shoulders, mouth set into a determined line through his harsh words. He’s pushing away from the counter, just barely swinging his legs over the chair when you reach him.

“Sit back down, angry man.” You laugh, the sound uncontrollable as it tumbles from your mouth. You push at his rising shoulders until he relents. Watching as he sinks back into his seat, you smile widely. “No fight! I was joking!”

“Well I don’t think your jokes are very fuckin’ funny!”

“Mhm, I know.” You say indulgently, unable to keep the fondness from your tone. “But don’t worry, grumpy, I think that’s all I have. No more jokes for tonight.”

“Now you’re just fuckin’ lying to me.” He barks, but even through the bite you can hear his smile. “You really are askin’ for a fight, aren’t ya?”

“No, I’m not. Seriously.” You soothe.

He doesn’t say anything, just goes back to watching you cook. You’re dropping bread into the pan, watching it brown and adding cheese. Some of the shredded cheese hits the pan, burns quickly- makes a popping sound.

The smile captures your face before you can stop it. Again, you find that you really just can’t help yourself around him.

“And even if I was starting a fight,” You start again, laughing lightly with your back turned to him. “I wouldn’t get very far now, would I? You’d blow me up in a second, huh, angry man?”

You hear him shift in the chair, hear his sharp exhale and his arms hitting the counter. You expect an angry retort, hell, maybe even a cocky one- but that’s not what you get when you turn to face him.

“I would never blow you up.”

His eyes widen, shoulders tensing immediately. You weren’t fairing any better- just as surprised by his quick statement as he was.

In all your life, in all your soulmate fantasies, you had never imagined the words “I would never blow you up” to be the tipping point for you. You never imagined that those words would be what sent you over- what broke the weird dam of feelings that had been welling in you since the day you texted him. But it was.

You were crossing the kitchen before you knew it, careful, sure, strides carrying you to his side. You hands fell around his cheeks, tilting his head up to meet your eyes, and suddenly, all at once, it hit you.

“I like you.” You admit breathlessly, your fond laugh erupting from your chest and raw and unfettered and real. “I- I like you so much, you asshole. You know that? Right?”

He looks winded, his eyes widening as you draw slow circles with your thumbs on his cheeks. You can just barely see it, he only just hardly lets you, but you watch the way he leans into your touch. Just the barest bit of extra weight in your hands, only for a moment, before he pulls back just a bit, smirking up at you.

“Fuckin’ said that already, dumbass.”

“Katsuki!”You whine in protest, rolling your eyes as you let go of his cheeks. “I was being nice!”

You had planned to retreat after that, but the way he suddenly smiles keeps you rooted where you stand. It’s confident little smirk, sitting just at the edge of his mouth- it’s so coy and immature and playful and so very much him that it pulls you in. You’re stepping closer, just a little, and that only makes him, as if he understands, smirk a little more.

He’s like a magnet, you realize, blushing wildly. A dangerous magnet- and I’m an idiot for letting myself get this close.

“I was bein’ nice.” He finally says, grin absolutely shit-eating at this point. “What the hell are you complain’ about, woman- that was nice. You don’t like me bein’ nice to you?”

“That was not nice!”

“I think it was.” He shrugs, so very self-assured and taking the piss. “Think maybe you’re just too fuckin’ sensitive? Hah?”

It’s the way he says it- so cooly and calmly and almost smugly. Like he’s got you backed into a corner and just waiting under his finger. And, truthfully, he does, but you’re much too competitive to just accept that. Much too familiar with the way he’ll blush and scream and fluster at even a hint of pushback. So even with shaky breaths, and a heart fluttering out of control, you challenge him.

“Out of the two of us,” You start, a shaky hand ghosting feather-light under his chin, just barely tilting his face up. “I’m not the sensitive one.”

He takes the bait, just as you knew he would, and rises to it. Even blushing as he was, Katsuki only inches closer in challenge, catching your gaze in full. “Big fuckin’ words, sunshine. Be careful.”

The nickname was playing dirty, and he knew it. You could see it in the careful set of his jaw, the way that incredibly irritating smirk was still sitting unbidden across his stupid beautiful face. You couldn’t let him win. You just couldn’t. 

“Yeah, you’re so angry, aren’t you? So scary, pop rocks.” You tease, desperately trying to move past your breathlessness. Your hand moves on it’s own, threading carefully through his hair. “But not around me.”

“Fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

“Means you’ve gone soft, Katsuki.”

His hackles raise at that, and he clenches his jaw, eyes raging like wildfires. Bakugou doesn’t move away though, only gets closer, his hot breath hitting your face. “I’m. Not. Fuckin’. Soft!”

“Really?”

He nods, so very determined and offended and focused that you laugh. Your giggle makes him angry, you can see it in his eyes, but that only draws you closer. Only a few inches separate the two of you, but it’s like you can’t get close enough. It’s his magnetism, the way he’s still provoking you -despite being so red- that has your hands dropping from his head, crossing together behind his shoulders. You giggle again, warm, happy, heat flooding you at the proximity.

“Prove it then, Katsuki.”

Your defiance only seems to make him angrier. To make him boil because then he’s snarling, eyebrows creasing sharply, and he’s surging upwards, pressing his lips to yours. There’s no grace to it, no soft romance, just brutal pressure and his sharp teeth and his rough hands on your face. All things considered, it was the most aggressive kiss you’d ever recieved, but maybe you should’ve expected that. Still, it takes your breath away, nearly knocks your feet out from under you.

“Still think I’m fuckin’ soft?” Bakugou pulls away, so red he’s about to explode, but he’s still sitting there smirking like he’s won. “Hah?”

You can’t help it- you’d never heard his voice, felt it against your skin this close before. You shiver. That only seems to amuse him more, but then he’s looking past you. 

“Bread’s gonna fuckin’ burn.”

“Y-yeah!” You’re shocked out of whatever hold he had you in, shoulders straightening as you backed away. “Yeah. I know. I got it.” 

You felt winded, nearly weightless and fuzzy and flying as you turned back to the food. Your lips still tingled, fire sitting unrelenting in your cheeks as you finished. Part of you wondered where the hell that Katsuki came from, but then again, you figured that was part of him all along. He wouldn’t lose to anybody- and definitely not to you. 

You plate up the food, and when you turn around he’s still smirking. You want to kiss the smugness right off his idiotic gorgeous lips and you promise yourself you will. Later. 

“It’s hot, so be careful.” You say, sliding his plate across the counter to him.

“Obviously, dumbass. You think I’m that fuckin’ stupid?”

“No, but I’d hate for you to burn your taste buds off before you could really eat.” You smile, rounding the counter with your own food and taking a seat next him. “You’d really be missing out!” 

“What- you make it special or some shit?”

“Mhm. Just for you, angry man!” You laugh. “Figured you deserved something good after all your hard work and heroics.”

Bakugou’s eyes widen, so comically large and bright as he blushes and bites his knuckle. He turns away so quick, nearly cracking his neck with how fast he averts his eyes. “D-don’t just say that shit to me. Fucking weirdo.”

You took a deep breath, physically willing yourself not to turn away and squeal as loud as you could. He just had no right to be that adorable. Katsuki had fully kissed you, hands on your face and biting pressure, but he drew the line at being served food? At being served kind words? 

Oh- oh. You realized. It was words for him- affirmation. That was his real weakness. You filed it away, incredibly excited for the next time you got to test that little theory out on him. 

Dinner was an interesting affair- it was quiet and relatively calm, at least for everyone but the poor grilled cheese you’d served to him. He’d torn into it the second it was cool enough, nearly demolishing it in his sharp teeth. You figured you should’ve guessed that, that he’d eat the way he did everything else- aggressively.  

“You want anything else?” You ask, gathering the plates and cleaning up the counter.

“No. I’m good.” He grunts. “Thank you for the food, but if I want anything else I’ll get it my fuckin’ self.” 

“A simpler thank you would’ve worked just as well.”

“It’s- I’m not,” He grumbles, stubborn as ever. “The food was good. Thank you. I’m just saying you didn’t have to go to all the fuckin’ trouble. If I need somethin’ I’ll get it. I’m not a fuckin’ invalid who can’t do anything.”

“Oh my god.” You mumble under your breath, spinning around to face him. “Will you please just let me help you?”

“I don’t fuckin’ need it.”

“Katsuki- c’mon, just let me take care of you. Help you. Please.”

He looks stunned, maybe even vulnerable, as you near. You take one of his hands in yours.

“Don’t be so stubborn, angry man. I just want to take care of you.” You plead, not letting him look away. “Somebody’s gotta right? Especially since you’re still sore.”

“‘M-’m not that sore. I’ll be fuckin’ fine. Done it before.”

“Yeah, maybe, you have, and I’m sure you still could. I know you’re strong.” You supply. “So strong- but you don’t always have to be strong all by yourself anymore. We can be strong together. I’m here for you, you know?”

Something in his eyes seems so tiny and small and unsure at your words, and it breaks your heart. There aren’t enough words in the world for all you want to say in that moment, so you just take his head in your hands, kiss him with every bit of care and concern you hold for him.

Well you pull back, he won’t look at you, his cheeks gone nearly as red as his vulnerable eyes. His shoulders shake, and he takes a deep breath, turning his head to place a tiny little kiss into the palm of your hand. He doesn’t say anything, but the tiny action communicates almost everything you need to know.

“I saw that fall, alright?” You soothe, thumbs rubbing over his cheeks. “It was pretty nasty, and you’ve gotta be feeling shitty right now. I get it, and I don’t think less of you for it, and I’m not taking ‘pity’ on you or whatever you’re thinking so much about- I really just want to help you feel better. Because I care about you, and I’m so proud of you of saving that kid, and you deserve so many nice things. You gotta let someone help you, okay?”

He nods slowly, but you can see the resistance in the grimace of his mouth. It wasn’t easy for him- accepting help and admitting to any sort of fragility. You’d knew he’d fight you every step of the way- but that was okay. You’d never backed down from one of his challenges before.

“Now, I’m gonna ask you again, and I want you to just listen. Just listen and answer.” You tap a finger against his cheek. “What can I do to help you right now?”

“I-I fuckin’- I can’t.” He breathes, stuttered and anxious, frustrated eyes flitting between every object in the room. “Embarrassing- you’re fuckin’ tryin’ to- I don’t need stupid special treatment! I’m not weak!”

“I know. I know. I’m not saying you are.” You close the distance, pressing a light kiss into his hairline. “Being hurt isn’t the same thing as being weak. Being injured doesn’t mean you’re weak- and accepting help due to those injuries doesn’t make you weak either. You survived that fall because you’re strong, but you don’t have to be right now. Not unless that’s what you really want- not unless being alone right now is really what would help you best.”

He doesn’t say anything, just stares up at you with eyes so guarded that it makes you want to cry.

“Is it? Is that what you want?” You ask tenatively. “If you’re really not feeling up to it, just want to shut down and sleep instead, I don’t have to be here. I want to, because I care about you, but I won’t force you. I can leave if-“

Bakugou suddenly grasps at your wrist, fingers twitching on your skin. His eyes are closed and his eyebrows are pinched, but he presses your hand into his burning cheeks.

“Yeah. Okay.” You whisper, the fondness and affection dripping from your words, thick and heavy as they leave your mouth. “I get it. I understand- you don’t have to say it.”

He just nods tightly, eyes still closed.

You stay there for a moment, just breathing in the rare vulnerability that was rolling off of him. Then you find it’s not enough- that you need more contact. You’re surging forward, tucking his head into your neck as you wind feather-light arms around him, careful to avoid his injuries.

Bakugou fights it, going rigid and stiff and resitant at first. He hardly looks at you, just barely, but you catch his gaze and nod. It’s all it takes before he’s allowing himself to sink into you, his arms pulling you closer.

It’s hesitancy, than acceptance and than desperation, and suddenly he’s holding you so tightly, clutching at you like you’re gonna fade. Like you’ll slip through his calloused fingers. It makes you ache. Sends volts of throbbing pain through your chest that have you squeezing him tighter.

It makes you want to sob- the way he seemed so resistant to softness despite being so obviously starved for it. You wondered if anyone else had stuck around this long; if anyone else had noticed just how desperate he was for someone to finally hear him.

It was alright now, you figured. He had you now and you’d listen for as long as he allowed you to.

“You don’t have to say anything,” You start, voice quiet, turning your head to whisper against his hair. “But I want you to know that I think you’re good. That I think that you’re so strong, the absolute bravest, and that you did a really good thing saving that kid. I believe you- when you said that you were working on it. You’re not so angry anymore and I get it. I know I haven’t know you that long, but still, I’m so proud of you for it.”

He just melts into you further, a shuddering breath against your neck. You think you can feel a smile- just the tiniest little twitch of his lips. A hesitant, honest, thing that has unbridled fondess tearing through your chest.

You stay like that for a few minutes, so close and warm and connected, before he’s pushing you away. Just barely pressing away from you until he can look you in the eyes.

“I- uh, I fuckin’ like you too.” He stutters out, so very red and exposed and genuine. He seems to struggle with the eye contact, but he holds it anyway. “And think you’re okay. Or whatever.”

Truthfully, you wanted to tease him. Wanted to giggle and laugh and pick apart the words because he just added a “Or whatever” to the end of his declaration. It was quite possibly the lamest possible phrase to tack onto the end of an emotional statement and you wanted to say something- but now wasn’t the time for that. You didn’t even want to imagine the walls he’d put up if you laughed at him right now.

So you didn’t, you just pulled him close again. Hugged him tight and hid your pleased smile where he couldn’t see it. Bakugou stills then, resting his head against you and shutting his eyes. His anxiety fades from his shoulders and his breathing slows; if you you didn’t know any better you’d swear he was falling asleep.

“You want more pain meds?” You ask after a while. “Think it’s probably about time.”

He just nods. You begin to move away, and he follows you for a second. Just a second though- and then he’s catching himself and fisting his hands tightly shut in his lap, cheeks flushing.

“The nightime ones look pretty intense.” You comment, reading the label on the bottle. You give it a playful shake. “You wanna get high, angry man?”

He’s scoffing and rolling his eyes but he’s smiling too. Katsuki holds a hand out and you toss him the bottle.

“Not a fuckin’ baby.” He grunts, twisting open the bottle. He dry-swallows the pills; you he does it just to prove a point. “I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t know, those pills kinda look like horse tranquilizers. Worringly so.” You refill his glass of water, shoving it towards him before he can protest. “Now drink up. Then you’re spending the rest of the night on the couch, where you should’ve been. The whole time. Resting.”

“Jeez, pushy woman. I get it. Chill out already.”

“How am I supposed to chill out when you keep not listening to me, huh?” You take the empty glass from his hands. “Now, c’mon, go- back to the living room. I know you’re not gonna let me help you, but I swear to god, if I don’t see you hobbling away in a few seconds, I’m gonna be really angry at you.”

Bakugou rolls his eyes, all petulant dramatics and huffy sighs, but gets up anyway- actually listens to you even if it seems like it physically pains him. Actually, knowing him, it probably does.

He collapses into the couch as you bring another water over- just in case. You meant it when you said you didn’t want him getting up again.

“So, I’m thinkin’ you’ve got, max, maybe 30 minutes? Possibly 45?” You say settling in on the other side of the couch. “So pick a movie.”

He looks at you a little weirdly. “Why?”

“Because those meds are gonna knock you the fuck out.” You laugh, unable to hold it in. “And because watching movies is a relaxing activity. And that’s what you’re supposed to be doing right now. Relaxing.”

“So you’ve fuckin’ said. I get it, woman. Put whatever you want on, I don’t care.”

“Really? No preference at all?”

“No.” He puffs out his cheeks, averts his eyes. “Normally don’t have time for that shit.”

You can’t help it- the way you find yourself sidling right up next to him. You’re careful, sure to avoid all his sore limbs, but you take a chance and poke at his chest lightly.

“No time, huh?” You say, catching his eyes. “I’ll find a way to change that.”

His eyes widen and his cheeks redden, and as usual, he doesn’t say anything. Katsuki just hides his face over your head, tucking you into his chest as he huffs.

“Course you fuckin’ would. You’re the most irritating woman I’ve ever met.”

“I’m gonna choose to take that as a complement.”

“You fuckin’ shouldn’t. It’s not.”

“Well, I think I will anyway.” You giggle, sinking into his hold. “Besides, I’m pretty sure you like me- you did kiss me first, you know.”

Bakugou goes ridgid at that, face heating as he forcibly shucks you from him. He looks appalled, absolute disbelief covering his features.

“T-that’s not! I fuckin’- I did that shit to win! Because you said I was soft! I’m not fucking soft, you shitty woman!”

“Mhm. I know.” You laugh, nearing him again and stopping just inches from his red face. You’re blushing too, horribly so, but you can’t help teasing him. Nothing could stop you from riling him up further- it was your favorite past-time after all. “You wanna try winning again? I’ll promise I’ll let you. Katsuki.”

Pop.

He shrinks back in his seat, jolts like he’s the one who just got shocked. He isn’t. You are- and you’re laughing and smiling and breaking the tension all at once.

“That’s- Don’t fuckin’ do that to me! Goddamn witch! What the hell is that? Fuckin’ breaking my quirk? What the fuck?” He roars as he tucks his hands under his legs. “You know how long I been workin’ on controlling that shit? Just to have you walk in and fuck it up? Stop it! I fuckin- you make me so mad! Stop laughing!”

“I-I’m not. I’m not! It’s just,” You begin, breathless and gasping. “I was wondering, you know, why that hadn’t happened in a while, but now I know why. And it’s adorable.”

“Shut up! It’s not and I’m not- I’m fucking cool as shit so don’t go running your fuckin’ mouth about it! You don’t know what you’re talking about, damn dumbass, you don’t know shit!”

You sober a little bit, admiration shining clearly in your eyes when you look at him. When you look at his red face- the way he flustered. Because that’s the secret, you discovered; he only popped when you embarrassed him.

“Stop yelling already.” You giggle, pressing closer to him. “It’s not a bad thing, angry man. You make me nervous too, you know?”

He spares a look at you, blinking dumbfounded at your statement. Like he couldn’t believe it. It was such a ridiculous, oblivious look on his face that you couldn’t stop yourself- you just had to kiss it away.

As much noise as he was making, it all dies away the second you meet his lips. All the resistance fades and he melts into it, hands grasping under your chin to keep you close to him.

The first kiss was about winning, and the second one about validation, and those were good, amazing, but this one was nothing but fondess. A torrent of burning, boiling, affection as your lips moved against his. It was a tender kiss, much softer and slower than the first one, and a lot more delicate but you liked it just the same. Liked being able to finally act on all the feelings you’d been storing up for weeks.

The completion you’d felt from this kiss far surpassed the charged kisses from earlier. This was kissing him just because you could, because you wanted to, and you were sure this was heaven- at least, as close to heaven as any one human should ever be allowed to get.

It felt like flying, like hurtling above the earth and surging through the clouds. Like you were Icarus and you breached the atmosphere to soar against the surface of the sun. His hands fell to the base of your spine, pressing you firmly against him, and suddenly you knew. Knew it for sure, in your bones like it’d always been carved in there-you might’ve been Icarus, but he’d never let you fall. You would get to blister and scorch and burn for as long as you’d wanted but your wax would never melt. There was no fear when falling with him. Falling for him.

You pull away, but you don’t go too far. Don’t think you could separate even if you tried. Katsuki was an addiction, a powerful, potent thing and the only salve for that itch in your skin was being close to him. As close as you could possibly manage.

He didn’t say anything, just ragged breathes as he pulled you close. That was alright, you figured, you already knew he wasn’t a man of many words. At least not of many nice ones. The thought made you giggle.

“What the fuck are you laughin’ about, idiot?” He huffs, cheeks still bright red. “What’s so fuckin’ funny, hah?”

“Nothing. I just like you. A lot.”

The statement was easy, falling from your mouth like it was seared into your tongue. You’d knew the affect it would have- that he’d jump in his skin and go shy under your touch. That was half the reason you said it after all.

“Oh my god,” You whisper, dropping a quick kiss to his heated cheek just because you could. He only seems further embarrassed by your action, hands unconciously scrunching the material of your sweatshirt. “You’re killing me.”

“Good.” He mumbles juvenilely, looking anywhere to avoid your eyes. “Die then. Fuckin’ burn, you witch.”

The laugh that tears from your chest is full and heavy and so very filled with joy that it sucks the air out of you. Has you grasping for breath as you clutch your stomach, a hand braced on the cushion behind you as you absolutely lose yourself. When the tears finally clear from your eyes, you see him smiling, apparently very pleased with his joke. Which, to be completely honest, you were too. It was a very funny joke, after all.

“You can’t- you shouldn’t call your soulmate a witch, Katsuki!”

He just shrugs, smile still stretched across his face as he watches you.

“Jesus christ, what am I gonna do with you?” You ask, heaving a breath as your last giggles fade. “You’re a real handful, you know?”

He nods, looking once again all too pleased with himself. You see his pupils though- the way they’ve slowly dialated from the meds. You had to hand it to him, being that present while fighting heavy narcotics? He really was the best at everything.

“Alright, alright, enough jokes from you, Mr. Funny Man.” You say, standing quickly to grab the blanket across the room. You sit back down, setting it to the side as you pat your lap. “Lay down.”

“I’m not-“

“Just lay down, you stubborn idiot.” You sigh. “I can see your eyes. You’re tired, aren’t you?”

“Not that fuckin’ tire-“

“I said, you’re tired, aren’t you?” You interrupt sternly.

He just looks at you, rolls his eyes for the umpteenth time that night, and collaspes into your lap. You spread the blanket over him, nearly cooing when he pulls it up to his chin and closes his eyes. He then abruptly shifts, movements jerky and aggressive as he turns onto his side and wraps his arms around you stomach.

“Aww, Katsuki-“

“Shut the fuck up, woman.” He bites out, not even bothering to open his eyes. “Say a goddamn thing and I’ll fucking bite you.”

“Ooo kinky.”

True to his word, he does bite. Not a cute bite either- it’s all pressure and sharp teeth and locked jaw against your stomach, all ridiculous force through your sweatshirt, and you swear to god if he wasn’t so cute you’d slap him.

“Katsuki!” You shrill, hands pushing his head away. “Ow! Stop! That hurts, you bitch!”

“Told you. Fuckin’ warned ya.” He grunts, relenting with a smug smile as he nuzzles back into your stomach- this time without teeth. “Now turn on the TV. Need background noise to drown you the fuck out.”

“You’re so mean!” You whine, but you’re still petting his hair fondly, shifting as minutely as you could to grab the remote.

He doesn’t say anything as the TV clicks to life, filling the room with soft instructions as the cooking channel drones on. You watch it for a while, perfectly content and sated as you scratch at his scalp. You wouldn’t pick the cooking channel on a normal day- but let’s face, you weren’t really paying that much attention to it.

Katsuki shifts suddenly, sleepily prods the base of your spine with a single finger until you jump.

“God.” You huff. “What?”

“You should stay.”

“S-stay?”

“Tonight.” He slurs, eyes just barely sliding open to display his glazed pupils. “Here.”

He’s trying to blink himself away now, hardly able to keep his eyes open. You see his blown pupils and feel his sluggish limbs- that medicine really was doing a number on him. Turns out, even the great Bakugou Katsuki wasn’t stronger than literal drugs.

Your stomach sank as you continued to look him. You wanted to stay- truly you did. But you couldn’t. It was a sunday, you had class in the morning, and your university was over in the next city.

You should stay.” He insists again.

“I’m can’t stay.”

“Fuckin- why?” He pokes your cheek with a sluggish limb, just barely missing your eyes. His own are coated in mild irritation. “Hate me that much or somethin’?”

“No.” You laugh fondly, batting his hands away and gathering them in your own. “I have class tomorrow morning, angry man.”

He’s quiet for a moment, but you watch his lips pull into a pout. He pokes your cheek again. “Drop out of school.”

“I’m not gonna drop out of school.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m almost finished.” You supply indulgently, cradling his sleepy face in your hands. “I can always visit tomorrow.”

“No. Now.”

“Katsuki,” You giggled, unable to contain it. “I really can’t. I can’t just do everything you say, you know.”

“Never fuckin’- never do anythin’ I say.”

“I know.”

He’s quiet again, head lolling to bury itself back into your stomach. You look at the time, and laugh- you guess 9:47 was past his bed time even when he wasn’t sky high off of pain meds.

“Stay.” He orders again, arms winding tighter against your stomach.

“You’re so loopy, my dear angry man.” You coo, catching his face in your palms, tilting his head until you meet his glazed eyes. “God, I can’t wait to tell you about this tomorrow morning.”

“When you’re still here.”

“I’m not- Katsuki!” You giggle. “What has that medicine done to you, oh my god.”

He just shrugs, closing his eyes as he drops his head back further into your palms. At this point, so flustered and outright giddy at his adorable actions, you were sure that your hands had to be shaky- but if they were he certainly didn’t seem to mind.

“Are you serious, right now? It’s- that’s all your weight! What’re you gonna do; just break your neck if I move my hands?”

“Yeah. Fuckin’ probably.”

“That’s not a good answer.”

“Mhm. Don’t move ‘em then.” He slurs. “World’s- world’s gonna be real fuckin’ mad if you kill me.”

You want to retort, want to argue with him and his ridiculousness, but he wouldn’t be awake to find out. He’s fallen asleep almost as soon as he finishes the thought, head falling completely into your palms, even more dead weight than before. Surpressing a squeal, you set his head back down on your thighs, heart pounding wildly when he nuzzles into your stomach.

His kitten snores start again, those same adorable little ones from earlier, and it’s like you had no choice. Mid-terms were coming up soon, and it was a terrible choice to skip class tomorrow morning, and your back would kill you when you woke up, but your grave was dug the second he’d cuddled into you.

Bakugou Katsuki always got his way after all- always won, even when it came to you. So you didn’t fight the sleep gathering in your eyes, letting your head fall heavy against the cushion behind you.

You stayed. You would stay, and you knew it was just because he asked you to, because he had you wrapped so tightly and completely around his explosive fingers- no matter how much you wanted to deny it.

//-//

enjoy the fluff kissy kissy :))

[watermelonlipstick]

Septic

This was written as a request for anon, who asked:

I was wondering if I could request one with Dean. The reader's injury gets badly infected and she gets a high fever and they are stuck somewhere and can't go to the hospital (maybe a cabin during a snow storm or something else if you want?). Anyway her condition keeps getting worse and dean is doing everything he can to keep her alive? As for their relationship it's up to you, whether they're dating or hiding their feelings...?

I hope this is something along the lines of what you were thinking. I decided to go with a ‘hiding from Leviathans’ angle because that seemed the closest to canon compliant to me. Thanks in advance for reading; I would love any advice or critiques!!

Title: Septic

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2124

Summary: Unable to go to a hospital for fear of getting trapped by Leviathans, Dean tries his best to manage the reader’s worsening infection and fever. 

Warnings: fever, illness, swearing, implied threat of death, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff (maybe? if you squint)

           “Dude, I have a fever, I haven’t been decapitated. Can you stop pacing? Sam’ll be back in a couple days, I’ll take some Tylenol and sleep it off, we’ll be good as new in no time.”

           He glared down at you where you laid on Rufus’s couch with flared nostrils. “You’re shivering under every goddamn blanket in this place and it’s been 3 days already. We’re going to a hospital.”

           You rolled your eyes at him and tried to hide the way you snuggled deeper into the woolen bundle. “So dramatic. As if we wouldn’t get made walking in the door. And if you’re so worried about me, why don’t you make yourself useful and get me a hot water bottle and some tea?” You tried to give him your most casual smile in reassurance.

           Dean appraised you with a hard set to his jaw and a twinge of concern at his eyebrows for a moment before relenting. “Fuck, fine. One more day and if the fever hasn’t broken, then we’re going.” It was only a few steps to the kitchen, and you heard him putting a pot of water on to boil. “You sure I can’t just do coffee? I don’t know how you drink this stuff.”

           Like it always did, Dean’s aversion to tea made you laugh. “It’s literally just mint flavored water—you act like you haven’t drunk all kinds of potions and hangover cures.”

           “The fact that I have drunk all kinds of potions and hangover cures should show you how gross it is.” He tossed a hot water bottle covered in worn waxed canvas on top of your blankets and you shimmied it under your feet while he got the tea together. After a moment, he set the tea (and a plastic bear full of honey, which made you smile to yourself) on the coffee table next to you. “Can we at least watch something else? These chicks are driving me fucking nuts.”

           That made you laugh hard enough to shake loose the blanket corners tucked in under your chin. “You might be able to trick Bobby into thinking you don’t like the Real Housewives, but I’m not buying it for one second.”

           He shot you some side eye but didn’t protest, patting your feet in a signal to raise them so he could sit with your legs in his lap. You didn’t remember past the first few minutes of the next episode.

           “Hey, come on, you gotta drink something.”

           You squinted up at Dean, feeling the sickly stickiness of dried and re-soaked sweat in Dean’s stolen sweatshirt where it bunched around your neck. “You want me to sleep, you want me to wake up, pick a lane, asshole,” you tried to joke, feeling each word like a stab in your, well, stab wound. It took more focus than it should’ve too hold onto Dean’s face where he perched on the coffee table right in front of you.

           “You’ve been asleep for 16 hours, Rip Van Winkle. And you’re sweating like a whore in church, gotta rehydrate.”

           “Thanks, Nurse Ratched,” you croaked, carefully keeping your face neutral around the throbbing ache in your side as you sat up and accepted the bowl of broth from Dean. When his hands were free, he put the back of his hand to your forehead in a very maternal way that might’ve made you giggle if you weren’t in so much pain.

           Dean’s lips pressed into a tight line and he breathed a hard “fuck,” as he sat back. “Lemme see it.”

           “If you wanted to get me naked, all you had to do was ask,” you tried to joke.

           “No slick shit, I’m serious. The fever’s getting worse.” There wasn’t even a touch of playfulness in his tone, tight chord of anxiety clipping his words.

           “It’s going to be pink and raw like every other set of infected stit—”

           “Cooperate or don’t, but my bet is there’s no way you can slip out of getting pinned right now.”

           “Who knew you were so kinky, Dean?”

           He didn’t rise to the teasing at all, the just-this-side-of-friendly banter you normally had, and it made the nervous bile rise a few degrees in your throat. You eased back and slowly flipped down the blankets, immediately started shivering as you pulled up your damp layers to show him your stomach.

           It was worse than you’d thought it would be even before he tenderly pulled back the tape to see the injury itself, the gauze a mottled tie-dye of blood and greenish pus. The stitches strained against swollen, angry tissue oozing at the corners, and you looked away to hold onto a little denial that you weren’t completely fucked. “Jesus Christ, kid,” Dean murmured. He reached behind him for a bottle of rubbing alcohol and you didn’t even try to argue, hissing and grabbing his wrist when he poured it over the wound. Dabbing off the worst of the external mess with the moisture, you watched as his mind raced.

           You decided to try to grab the reins of the situation before he locked you both into a crazy plan. “Help me up, I want to take a shower. I feel disgusting.”

           “Can you even stand?”

           You rolled your eyes at him exasperatedly.

           “Roll your fucking eyes at me all you want, you look like Marvin the Martian. Can’t believe I let your dumb ass talk me out of taking you to a hospital.”

           “I’ve got a much better chance of beating a little infection than I do the combined force of however many Leviathans are looking for us and the full force of the federal government. Now get out of my way if you’re not going to help me up, I need a shower.”

           He pushed back the coffee table and watched you stand up, grabbing your arm and waist when you immediately swayed. “Goddamn it, sit back down, I’m getting your shoes.”

           “Dean. I am not going to a hospital. Especially not before Sam gets back. Not a negotiation. I just—you’re freaked out, I get it. I just need you to please let me call the play for once.”

           His jaw muscles tightened into firm balls and you could see the flare of panic behind his gaze as he flicked between your eyes. Ultimately he didn’t say anything, just giving you a tight nod and offering a hand to guide you up and to the bathroom. When you’d gotten there, he hovered in the doorway as you started to peel off layers, hoping that your leaning on the sink didn’t look as obvious as it felt. “Think I can take it from here, chief,” you offered, hoping he’d take the hint.

           “Not adding a head injury to this bullshit stew, sorry.”

           “No way, psycho. You’re not watching me shower.”

           His face screwed up in a scowl. “I’m not going to watch you shower, I’m just staying in here while you do in case you get dizzy again.”

           “Dude—”

           “Not a negotiation,” he growled, spinning your words back on you. You held each other’s stubborn gazes for a long beat before you gave in, getting in the tub and yanking the curtain closed with the rest of your clothes on, shucking the rest of them off and dropping them outside the tub behind the plasticized shield and curtain. You turned the water on and held onto the dial for support, hearing Dean’s movement in the bathroom as he sat down on the lidded toilet next to the shower. Laborious as it was, it felt a lot better getting clean. You’d started washing your hair when he started to talk.

           “You know what you’re asking me to do, right?”

           “Let me take a shower in peace?” You didn’t want to acknowledge the elephant in the room—what was the point?

           “If you’re not septic yet you will be in a day or two.”

           “By which time Sam will be back and you guys can strong arm some vet into giving me antibiotics like the mafiosos you fancy yourselves to be.”

           “Don’t deflect.” It was quiet but firm, and you blinked away the way your vision was starting to fuzz out at the edges. Something about it finally got you to drop the joking, if only for a second.

           “I know what I’m asking you to do.” You hoped he could hear the resolution in your voice.

           Dean was silent for a long enough beat that you thought maybe he hadn’t heard you, but you heard the roughness in his voice when he finally replied. “Please don’t make me?”

           The shower washed away a hot, stupid tear when it shot out of your eye like a kamikaze at his vulnerability. “I can’t be the reason you guys get caught.” You were clean now, but something about the confession-style quality of the shower curtain and the way it was letting both of you say what you really meant held you in the stream of water anyway.

           “I’m not—it’s going to fuck me up forever, you know that, right?” It was almost a grunt, the way Dean’s voice strained as he pleaded with you.

           “Long as you guys are alive.”

           He didn’t respond.

           After a long minute you felt your legs start to turn to jello. “You have something out there I can put on?”

           You heard him clear his voice, sticky and coarse. “Gimme a second.”

           A callused hand shot behind the shower curtain with a towel before Dean’s footsteps got quieter, and you tried your best to dry yourself off without stumbling. Not 15 seconds later, a bundle of clothes came in the same way. You smiled to yourself at your underwear and yoga pants with Dean’s t-shirt; he would’ve had to deliberately go into 2 different bags to get the clothes, no way it was an accidental grab. When you were dressed, you tugged the shower curtain back and didn’t argue when Dean wrapped his arm around your waist to ease you out of the tub, let him guide you back to the couch and fussily rearrange your blankets and pillows before he got out his first aid supplies.

           You watched his face as he worked on cleaning the wound again, knowing he just needed to be doing something, that he couldn’t just sit still and hope it got better. You could give him that, sat stock still even when it stung like a bitch and didn’t even tease him when he made you swallow a handful of vitamins as though that would help. Another cup of soup eaten silently and two mugs of tea later, your eyelids were beginning to droop again.

           “Tired?” he murmured, messing with the cover of the hot water bottle before ultimately getting up to refill it.

           “A little, yeah. Will you, um, will you sit with me?”

           Dean mercifully didn’t acknowledge the shake in your voice, nodding gently and sliding himself beneath you on the couch, tucking you under his arm and onto his chest, burrowing you both into the cushions. You reached your hand out of the blankets to place your palm over his heart, feeling the vibrating thrum of his pulse under your fingertips and cheek. His hand shifted so that he was smoothing the drying hair back from your temple, and after a few beats he bent his neck to kiss the crown of your head. The tenderness of it, the giving in to your request, pulled another tear out of your eye that fell straight into the cotton of Dean’ t-shirt underneath you.

           He sounded like he’d just woken up, that sleepy-syrupy sandpaper of a long night on his vocal cords. “You know, right? If it was going to be anyone for me, it would’ve been you?”

           The weight of it turned the blankets on top of you into a hug. You were nodding into him before you could speak, the tears turning your voice creaky-soft. “Same to you, dummy.” He chuckled once nostalgically at the ribbing, and you felt the rumble of it under you. “Thank you, Dean.”

           You felt the tension of the hiccupped breath before Dean got it under control to answer. “I love you, kid.”

           “Love you too.” It was the only thing to say, and neither of you had to answer or explain this undercurrent that had never been acknowledged so plainly before, no matter how rock solid it might’ve been for years. You laid there together for a long time, beating of Dean’s heart underneath you something constant to hold onto, warmth off his body better than any hot water bottle. The last thing you remembered before passing out was hearing Sam walk through the front door.

-

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[fanficimagery]

Wildest Dreams.

Imagine it's a couple days before your wedding and your friends start coming in for your last days of freedom. Only you start having second thoughts, old feelings crop up, and you end up having a breakdown.

Words: 5.1K Warnings: This happens to be an AU with no children and Liz is alive. If a character isn't mentioned, I'm sorry. I had too many characters already.

The Mikaelsons, plus a couple of significant others, are sitting around a fire pit in the backyard of their mansion down in New Orleans after a surprisingly calm family dinner. The only one missing is Rebekah who'd gotten up to answer the door when one of Klaus' minions was dropping off some things inside. But mere seconds later she's returning, a smile gracing her lips as she reads from what appears to be an invitation in her hands.

"You have been cordially invited to witness the celebration of love between Landon Wesley and Y/N Y/L/N," she says as she retakes her seat next to Marcel. "Aw. Our little Y/N grew up so fast."

Elijah, who'd been staring into the fire, suddenly frowns. He sits up a little straighter in his seat. "Y/N is getting married?"

Skimming through the invitation, Rebekah doesn't see her brother's expression. But Klaus, Marcel, Freya, and Keelin do. "Mhm. In two weeks, but she wants me down there a couple days before for a girls thing. She said I could bring whoever I wanted, so Freya and Keelin are coming with."

"Oh. Okay," Keelin huffs. "So I guess we don't get a say in this?"

"Nope. Not at all."

Keelin rolls her eyes, but she's smiling all the while. Freya pats her wife on the back of the hand, chuckling, just as Elijah clears his throat and stands up. "Well if you excuse me, I think I'm going to call it a night."

As Elijah makes his exit, Rebekah finally lifts her head from the invitation. Klaus hides his smirk behind the glass tumbler he's sipping from as everyone else watches Elijah go with their interest piqued.

"Am I the only one who found that weird?" Keelin asks, gesturing towards where Elijah disappeared off to.

Marcel chuckles, shaking his head. "Not at all. Someone please tell me what the deal is there?"

Rebekah sighs. "Y/N holds a special place inside Elijah's heart."

"Dear Y/N is cousin to one Caroline Forbes of Mystic Falls, part of the scooby gang we once loathed." Klaus smirks. "But we never loathed Y/N."

"Not at all." Rebekah now starts to smile. "Y/N was kind, even when her family and friends plotted our deaths. She was the only one whose word we could trust and the only other person who purposely engaged 'lijah in conversation."

"We obviously thought our dear brother had a thing going on with Y/N, but he denied it every time," Klaus says. "It was because she was only seventeen at the time, but it's been years now."

"Y/N is definitely all grown up." Rebekah slowly smirks. "And definitely still asks after Elijah."

Klaus chuckles. "And it appears Elijah still harbors something for our favorite Mystic Falls resident."

"Well damn," Marcel mumbles. "We're so going to this wedding. We haven't had normal people drama in a while."

Keelin raises her glass in salute to Marcel's words. This was definitely going to be an interesting trip.

The Salvatore brothers have given up the Boarding House for the night so you could meet with your girls. Caroline took care of getting food and drinks, and Bonnie and Elena knew it was best to just stay out of Caroline's way. Because as Maid of Honor, Caroline took her duties a little too seriously.

"Can we eat yet?" Bonnie asks, already munching on a breadstick. "What are we even waiting for?"

"I'm expecting a few more friends," you say. "They're about five minutes out."

"And which friends are these?" Caroline wonders.

"Rebekah." Caroline immediately groans whereas Bonnie and Elena look uncomfortable. "Don't even give me that look," you tell your cousin. "I made Rebekah promise to be on her best behavior and she did so long as none of you made snide comments towards her. And the other two are Freya and Freya's wife Keelin."

"Freya and Keelin? How come we've never heard of them before?" Elena asks.

"Because Freya is a Mikaelson and her story was really sad," you say. "I didn't think I should tell you when I had first found out." All three girls look at you and you sigh, locking your phone and shoving it into your back pocket. "So long story short, Freya is the eldest Mikaelson. She was taken hostage by her aunt, forced to live for one year and then magically sleep for a hundred." Bonnie's eyes widen in shock. "She escaped and sought out her siblings who helped her kill their aunt so she'd finally be free. It took them a while to trust one another, but they eventually did and then Freya met Keelin. I've only spoken to them a handful of times, but they seem like great people. Just give them a chance."

The girls are quiet after learning that, but then Elena can't help but ask, "So is Freya human or..?"

"She's a witch and her wife is a werewolf." The girls all blink in surprise and you sigh. "Please. Just please give me this night and the day of my wedding. I don't need any drama."

Your pleading expression is enough to have the three of them agree and just in time as well. Elena and Caroline alert you and Bonnie that a car is pulling up, and it's not long until Rebekah, Freya, and Keelin and walking right on in.

The tension is obvious when Rebekah says hello to everyone, but the genuine smiles come out when you greet Freya and Keelin for the first time face to face, and then introduce them to Caroline, Bonnie, and Elena. Caroline, having put her best hostess persona, then leads everyone into the dining room.

Caroline and Bonnie are the only two to remain standing as everyone takes their seat, Caroline then dishing out either spaghetti or chicken alfredo while Bonnie serves up the wine. Conversation is a bit stilted, but the moment Bonnie asks Freya a question about magic it's like the flood gates open. You're surprised Freya gives up more of her story so freely and it's like a weight is lifted off your shoulders when Rebekah cracks a joke about how deranged her family is that has everyone laughing.

The food is devoured between the seven of you and by the end of dinner you've finished two bottles of wine. The third wine bottle follows you all into the lounge where more comfortable armchairs are carried in so everyone has a seat of their own after Freya and Keelin take over the loveseat.

"So," Caroline chirps as soon as she's comfortable, "are there any other Mikaelsons we should be expecting?"

Rebekah grins. "Is this your subtle way in trying to figure out if Nik is coming?"

Bonnie and Elena giggle as Caroline scoffs, but everyone sees right through her. Even Freya and Keelin who have no idea of the history between the two blonde vamps. But suddenly Freya stops giggling and leans forward in her seat, looking quite pensive. "Wait. Are you the Caroline that my brother couldn't help but compare every female to? You're that Caroline?"

"Yes. Yes she is," you say and take another sip of your wine.

"Huh. Now I get it." Freya chuckles. "You're cute and feisty, and can apparently keep up with Klaus. I approve." Keelin can't help but nod along as everyone laughs at Caroline's surprised expression.

The surprised expression quickly morphs into smugness, but then Caroline is quick to shake it off. "We're not here to talk about me. We're all here for Y/N. I was just wondering because you know how Damon and Stefan are with Klaus."

You sigh. "Which is why I've talked to them too," you say. "I know everyone has issues with each other, but it's my goddamn wedding and there will be no death threats or neck snapping or so help me I will stake somebody." Your friends and guests are stunned into silence before Keelin snorts, everyone then giving into their laughter quickly after. You too, eventually, and then you groan as you attempt to hide your face in the palms of your hands. "I just- I don't want any issues. I'm already freaking out as it is."

The laughter fades off, sympathetic expressions taking over, and it's Keelin who then leans forward in her seat, reaching for your hand and gripping it in comfort. "It's going to be fine. You have nothing to worry about. If you love- er, uh what's his name?"

"Landon."

"Landon! Yes, Landon," she chuckles. "If you love Landon, you'll be fine." Your smile falters and you don't have to be an onlooker to know that the light in your eyes dims just a little. Your pretty sure everyone's noticed it if the sudden intake of breath is anything to go by. "You do- you do love him, don't you?"

"Yes!" You blurt a little too fast. Your response is a little cringeworthy and you sigh, retaking your hand and slumping in your seat. "I mean we've been together for three years. I love him. I do, but.."

"But he's not 'lijah."

"Rebekah!" Freya is quick to scold.

"What?" The blonde Original shrugs. "You haven't seen them together. You don't understand."

"I'm not one to ever agree with your sister, but she has a point," Elena says. "Y/N and Elijah-"

"But there is no me and Elijah." The girls fall silent at the tone in your voice. "There never was." You retake your glass of wine, chugging the rest of its contents before setting your glass back down. "Now if you guys will excuse me, I need some air."

No one tries to stop you as you go and you end up on the back patio, hopping up onto the brick railing and then leaning your back against the brick pillar. The cold air outside cools your flushed face and you try not to let your mood tumble down the rabbit hole.

You knew inviting the Mikaelsons was bound to bring up the past, but you didn't think it'd affect you quite like it is now. Elijah was, for obvious reasons, a touchy subject with you and your friends knew not to bring him up. But then Rebekah broke the ice and Elena, of all people, just had to agree with her.

"Here. Put this on." You're surprised to see Freya offering you a jacket, but you take it nonetheless and offer her a small smile in thanks. She grins, placing a smoking bowl down on the railing next to her. "Sage," she explains. "It keeps the vampires from hearing."

"God I love magic."

Freya chuckles and then after a moment passes, she says, "I'm sorry about what my sister said in there. They shouldn't bring any of that up so close to your wedding."

You shrug. "It is what it is. And if I'm being honest, she's not totally wrong."

"No?"

You shake your head. "I almost didn't invite Elijah because I knew my stupid crush on him would resurface, but then I thought I'd look like an asshole if I sent out personal invites to everyone else and he saw he didn't receive one." Freya chuckles quietly and you sigh longingly. "And the closer it comes to my wedding, the more I find myself longing for those talks with your brother rather than what Landon has to offer. I miss our talks about history and just life in general," you say. "And the more I listen to Landon talk about the latest Xbox game or the stupid jokes he's heard from his coworkers, it feels like I die a little more every day on the inside."

Freya frowns a little. "I apologize if I'm overstepping, Y/N, but do you honestly love Landon? If you continue to compare him to my brother, you're just setting yourself and Landon up for heartbreak down the line."

"I know. And I love Landon. I do, but I don't think I'm as in love with him as I once thought."

"Y/N.."

The first tear falls and you huff a laugh as you wipe it away. Quietly, you rhetorically ask, "Why couldn't your brother just love me? It'd have made things so much more easier." You're so caught up in your feelings that you don't see Freya tense or her eyes widen in surprise. "I don't even know what I'm saying," you then mumble. "I'm getting married in two days. Maybe I should just lay off the wine until then."

"Uhh, yeah. Maybe." Freya agrees.

You snap out of your spiral then, eyes widening. "Oh my god. I'm so sorry for laying that on you."

"No. Don't be," she laughs. "You needed to vent and I'm glad it was me, an unbiased ear."

"Really?"

"Really. You're fine," Freya assures you. "Now come on. Let's get you inside before we freeze."

As you hop off the railing, heart aching and mind going a mile a minute, you can only hope that your mind clears in time for you to say I do to Landon. It would really be terrible to enter a marriage while longing for someone else.

The morning of your wedding dawns bright and early, and you immediately know you're in no shape to be getting married. Since Rebekah, Freya, and Keelin have come into Mystic Falls you've put on a brave face for everyone, but now there's no hiding exactly what you're feeling. Because the moment aunt Liz, Caroline, Elena, and Bonnie wake you for your big day with party horns and confetti, you burst into tears.

Immediately the cheerful atmosphere vanishes and the girls are stunned into silence. "I can't do this," you cry. "I can't do this to myself or to Landon. It's not fair to him."

"Oh sweetie." Liz takes a seat next to you on the bed, putting a comforting arm around your shoulders. "What's going on in that pretty head of yours?"

"I'm so sorry, aunt Liz, but I can't- I just can't get married today."

Elena shifts uncomfortably next to the bed. "Y/N, if this is about us bringing up Elijah the other night I'm so sorry."

"No. No, you don't have to be sorry." Sniffling, you wipe at your eyes and look at those in the room. "I will admit to being nervous about seeing Elijah again after only talking about him brought back this stupid crush on him, but the more I thought about it," you trail off, shaking your head. "Can I really marry a human?"

Bonnie frowns. "Y/N, you are a human."

"I know that, Bon, but after everything we've been through.. knowing all that I know, can I actually settle down behind a white picket fence and pray every night that Landon doesn't ever find out about the supernatural? Whether you guys want to admit it or not, Liz and I will always be in danger because of our ties to you guys." Seeing their frowns makes your heart break just a little bit more.

"I don't mean to offend you," you say. "I love you guys alot. But I've put Landon in danger for years now and I can't risk it anymore. Because what happens when he asks for kids? I won't bring a family into our already messy lives."

"Y/N," Caroline murmurs. "The wedding is in nine hours. What are we supposed to do?"

"Compel them to forget or to be okay with the wedding being called off. I don't care. Just please do something."

"What are you going to tell Landon?" Bonnie wonders.

"I'm not sure. If I have to, I'll call in a favor from Klaus. He likes me enough to compel the groom away."

"And the caterers?"

The bedroom door suddenly swings open and Rebekah sighs as she leans against the door jamb. "Don't worry. Us Mikaelsons have a bit of money to throw around. All caterers will be told the wedding is off and to not to mention the money they've already been paid, and Landon's family will find that they're not missing a penny from their bank accounts."

It feels like a weight has been lifted off your chest. "Thank you, Bex. Thank you so much."

"Don't even worry about it," she assures you with a smile. Then pushing off the door jamb, she pastes on a smile and claps her hands once. "Okay. All vampires and witches with me. We've got a wedding to cancel."

Caroline and Bonnie are quick to rush out of the room, but Elena lingers by the bed. When you meet her gaze, she says, "If you need some time, my family's lake house is empty. You're more than welcome to take a week or two for yourself there. We'll give you some space."

"Thank you, 'Lena. Some space and time actually sounds pretty good."

"Well then it's settled," Liz says. "You go freshen up in the bathroom and I'll pack you a bag. We'll grab some groceries while everyone cancels your wedding, and then I'll drive you down to the lake house. Does that sound like a good plan?"

You offer her a faint grin. "Yeah. It does."

The moment Elena leaves the room, it seems like everything is in a fast forward motion. Liz ushers you to the bathroom where you have a good cry in the shower and then as you're getting dressed you have numerous text messages from your friends coming in to tell you how all the compulsion is going. Damon even offers to compel Landon for you, admitting that he never quite liked the human blood bag and he was glad you had come to your senses before you took the guy's last name. That had earned your first chuckle of the morning and even Liz chuckled when you had read her Damon's text.

Liz helps you put the groceries away at the lake house and then makes you promise to call her should you need anything, no matter the time. And only after you've agreed does she finally leave you all alone.

You send off one last text to your group of friends that your phone is going to be off for the time being and then promptly fall asleep in the master bedroom.

When you wake up again, it's only a little past one in the afternoon and you decide to make yourself something to eat. You eat and then settle on the couch for a little tv, only to end up outside on the dock and staring out into the water.

The time your wedding was to take place comes and goes, and you can't help but turn your phone on to see if you have any notifications. The only messages you have are from Caroline who assures you that everything's been taken care of and that she thinks you made the right decision. Hearing confirmation from your cousin eases some of your worries and you don't feel as bad about what you did.

By the time night falls, you're snuggled up on the couch and watching the best horror has to offer in order to keep your mind off any romance for the time being. You're in the middle of watching The Conjuring when there's a knock on the front door, startling a yelp out of you. Cursing your overbearing friends and their need to make sure you're really okay, you pause the movie and get up to see who it is.

Only when you open the front door you're more than a little stunned to find Elijah standing there by the top of the porch steps as he turns to face you. There's a moment where you both drink each other in and then your eyes narrow into a glare whereas Elijah's lips stretch into a smile as he steps closer to you.

"Elijah."

"Hello, Y/N."

The butterflies take flight and your heart beats double. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, but what are you doing here?"

He huffs a quiet laugh. "Someone near and dear to me had to make possibly one of the most difficult decisions in their life this morning. Did you really think I wouldn't come to check up on you?"

You do your best not to swoon, smiling softly at him as you shake your head in amusement and open the door wider as an invite. "You're lucky you've already been invited in otherwise we'd be stuck out on the porch. Come on. Let's go take a seat."

Elijah follows you into the living room after shutting the door behind him and you turn off the movie so you can place all your focus on him. There's a fire going in the fireplace, but you still turn on a few lamps so you can see him properly. And when you turn back around it's to see that Elijah already made himself comfortable smack dab in the middle of the couch.

Grinning, you drop in the spot next to him with one leg curled beneath you and the other hanging off the front of the couch so your foot is planted on the floor. "Hi," you muse.

"Is it too soon to ask you what happened?"

Straight to the point as usual, his question makes you faintly cringe. But before he can take the question back, you decide to tell him. "I'm too involved with the supernatural world, Elijah. What kind of person would I be if I had dragged Landon into the mess that is our lives? He deserves to have a normal and happy life."

"And what about you? Don't you deserve to be normal and happy?"

As he speaks, you notice how his gaze drops to your mouth before quickly darting up and looking elsewhere. You try to play it off but you know your damn heart gives you away immediately when he fights off a smile. "Normal and happy is so overrated," you then manage to say. "After all that I've seen and been through, a normal life would be boring."

Elijah finally allows himself to smile. "Is that the only reason why you wouldn't marry him?"

You tense at his knowing gaze, heart beat tripling as it's your turn to avert your gaze. You'd never been good at confronting your feelings head on, especially with the person said feelings are for. So as the seconds tick on by, you can feel your face flushing. You quietly groan. "Do I really have to say it out loud? It's embarrassing."

"Y/N."

"Elijah," you retort. You manage to hold his gaze for three seconds before you break eye contact and sigh. "It was obvious I had a crush on you back when I was seventeen and apparently it's still obvious now."

"I think it's adorable."

"Of course you do." Against your better judgement you reach out to swat at his arm and your breath hitches as he catches your hand and then maneuvers it so he can press a kiss to the back of your hand. You smile sadly. "It's been you since I was seventeen and I don't think anyone can ever compare to the Elijah Mi-mmph."

Elijah stuns you by pulling you into his lap and quickly maneuvering you so your knees are on either side of his lap, his mouth slotting against yours with such ease. There's a moment where you don't know what exactly to do with your hands, but the second his hands tug on the hem of your shirt, your hands find purchase on his shoulders before sliding up the side of his neck.

It's you who breaks the kiss for some much needed air, but you don't go far because Elijah keeps you close. His hand cups the side of your jaw, but his thumb runs gently under your bottom lip. You nip at his thumb, he grins, and then you groan when your predicament finally settles in. Elijah chuckles as you drop your head to his shoulder, your hands clutching at his sides under his suit jacket.

"What are we even doing?"

"I believe you're finally going after what you truly wanted."

"And you? What about you?" You ask, shifting nervously in his lap as you sit back.

"I am making my move," he says as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, "before someone else comes in to ask for your hand in marriage." You roll your eyes and he chuckles softly. "Since I made you admit something earlier, I will admit that I too have compared everyone to you. My family knew I held you above all else and they were quick to rub it in my face that you were to wed this evening. And earlier when I got Rebekah's call, I knew this was our chance."

"You're a big 'ol softy, Elijah Mikaelson."

"Only when it comes to you, Y/N Y/L/N."

You can't help but smile at his words, leaning in for a quick kiss. But it's not so quick as Elijah pulls you back in, peppering a few kisses across your mouth and cheeks. You giggle, but then that giggle turns into a groan. "The girls are going to be unbearable."

"Niklaus too, but I'm willing to put up with it as long as I have you by my side." You make a noise and facial expression as if you have to think about it, and Elijah gently squeezes your waist in retaliation which makes your jerk in his hold. "If you're that worried about their reactions, we can go away for a bit until everyone has had enough time to get used to our new situation."

You huff a laugh, but upon seeing Elijah's expression your amusement fades away. "You're serious."

"I am. New Orleans is a bit crowded at the moment and if I remember correctly you've always wanted to see Ireland. So what do you say to a spontaneous vacation with me?"

You blink owlishly at Elijah before your lips stretch into a smile. "Yes!" Your excitement makes him chuckle, but then you're quick to to come down. "My friends won't go for it. They'll continuously ask if I know what I'm doing and want daily updates and everything."

"They won't. And if they do, they'll have Sheriff Forbes to answer to." Your brow furrows in confusion and Elijah smirks. "How do you think I found you all the way out here? I stopped by the Forbes residence and Elizabeth was kind enough to point me in the right direction. It seems we already have one person in our corner."

"Jesus Christ," you huff. "Are we really doing this?"

"Only if you're sure you want to."

You take a moment to think things through, but before that moment can stretch on too long, you say, "Yeah. Let's do this. When do we leave?"

"Whenever you want," he tells you.

"As much as I wanna leave right now, I kind of just want to take you up to bed and get reacquainted with you."

Elijah slowly smiles. "I quite like the way you think, Miss Y/L/N."

"Then what are you waiting for, old man? Take me to bed already."

SIX MONTHS LATER

Freya and Keelin have just gotten home, a stack of mail on the hall table catching Freya's attention. Her siblings are out as usual, wrecking havoc no doubt, so on her way to the kitchen she grabs up the stack to sort through it.

As Keelin goes about grabbing the wine from the fridge and two glasses, Freya starts to filter out the trash from the stack of mail. Only halfway through the stack, one particular envelope catches her eye.

Freya starts to smile. "It seems like Elijah finally broke his silence."

"Oohh," Keelin coos. "What does he have to say? How is Y/N doing? Because last I heard not even the girls in Mystic Falls know."

Freya opens up the envelope, pulling out a picture and a letter. She smiles brightly upon seeing her brother and Y/N smiling under the Northern Lights- which is utterly adorable, in her opinion- and then goes on to read the letter to herself. Her smile slowly falters as her eyes widen in surprise. "No. They didn't," she breathes in awe. She quickly scans the picture again, her eyes lighting up as she laughs joyously. "They did!"

Keelin startles. "What? What did they do?"

Freya drops the letter and quickly flips around the picture for her wife to see. "They got married!"

"WHAT!?" Keelin practically shouts. "Let me see," she says as she hurries around the kitchen island.

Freya openly laughs now. "They got married under the Northern Lights last month. They'll finally be coming home in a couple of weeks."

Keelin grabs the photo so she can study it itself, her smile blossoming. "Oh my god. They really did get married."

"In the letter, Elijah said only Caroline and her mother know. They're going to come here first so they can figure out living arrangements and then they'll go see everyone else."

"Rebekah is going to be so pissed," Keelin muses.

"I can see it now, she's going to force a small ceremony on them when they're settled in."

"As long as I get to see Elijah smile in person as he is in his wedding photo, I'm all for it. Jesus looks at how adorable they look together."

"I know," Freya says. "I don't think my brother could have found anyone better for himself. We had only met Y/N and I immediately knew they'd be perfect for each other."

"Right?" Keelin then huffs. She looks at the picture one last time before setting the picture down. "We need to blow that up and hang it on the wall. Getting married under the Northern Lights was such a neat idea."

"Mhm. So much better than that Christmas themed wedding she originally had planned."

Keelin chuckles. "I thought I was the only one who thought the Christmas theme was tacky."

"Oh no. Rebekah secretly hated it too, but she didn't want to upset Y/N. She will, however, be upset she missed the Northern Lights wedding."

"I mean I'm pretty bummed, but I'm also excited for them to get home so we can pick their brains and get to the bottom of whatever the hell they were thinking. I'm super stoked for them, but I also want to know who proposed to who and everything!"

"Same here." Freya turns towards her wife, wrapping her arms around her waist while Keelin settles her arms around Freya's neck. "But until then we got family to inform of the couple's new status. Not it!"

"Not i- dammit!" Keelin pouts, she now having to be the one to inform Klaus and Rebekah. "I hate it when you do that."

Freya laughs. "Better luck next time. Now let's go. I can't wait to see their reactions."