#grumpy feelings are normal for my pack

[theborzoiarebackintown]

I usually post general ridiculousness, but this is a good example of uncomfortable body language that lead to a warning growl (the last pic) at Charlie for getting too into her biz.

I let my dogs communicate as they want for the most part, which includes letting them warn each other off and correcting each other to a degree. If you shut down any “negative” communication, you just get unpredictable dogs.

[charliemwrites]

Sniff, sniff…. Woof.

Content: Voyeurism

“Johnny? Johnny, baby, come here!”

Your big wolf boy comes bounding in from the living room as you shut the front door, immediately rearing up to sniff at your neck and face and hands. Satisfied, he licks your cheek and drops down again.

“Alright, listen up, handsome.” You grab his cheeks, scritching along his jaw and grinning as his big blue eyes go dopey. “My sister and her husband are going to stay the night. You are going to be a polite boy because you love me and don’t want to give my sister anything to talk shit about. Yes?”

A sneeze that he (for once) aims away from you. You laugh, drop a kiss between his eyes.

“Good talk.”

As usual, he follows you through the house as you shed clothes and shoes and bags. You ramble about the grocery store and your day, mostly just to get it out so your headspace can be clear for the evening. Helps to have a little (relatively) listener following at your heels.

He camps out in the bathroom while you shower, licking the glass door until you scold him - per usual. And again when he tries to lick the clean water off your leg. Only starts getting restless and grumpy when he sees you change into “outside” clothes rather than pjs.

You groan as he tries to herd you away from your own closet. Must be mixed with a shepherding dog because he’s a damn pushy jerk.

“Enough, bud,” you sigh. “Look, I don’t wanna go much either. But it’ll be worse if I don’t.”

He mouths off at you, a new thing he’s started up that reminds you of a husky. Maybe you should get one of those doggy DNA tests.

“I know I know,” you coo, shimmying into a pair of pants that your sister won’t be able to tease makes your ass look flat. “I’d rather snuggle up and watch 90s vampire movies too. But I already said I’d go and this means I’ll be able to skip seeing her on her birthday.”

More grumbles, but at least he climbs up on the bed to pout. You finish dressing and head for the vanity - no way you can go out with your sister without makeup.

As you pass, you roll him over to scratch his belly - politely ignoring his reaction. God, you really need to get him in for a neutering. If you catch him humping one more pillow—

When it’s time to go, you drop down to give him one last hug.

“Be good, baby. I’ll be home soon with some new friends. I love you.”

—

After dinner, your sister’s husband suggests a bar. And, of course, it’s a sports bar. Man can’t go more than an hour or two without.

You and your sister chat while his eyes stayed glued to the screens. Well, she chats. You mostly just provide the audience she constantly craves, the validation she always needs.

At some point your excuse yourself to order another drink, weaving between the patrons and sighing at a chance to let your face rest for a moment. While you’re waiting, someone brushes up close behind you, startles you.

“Och, sorry, hen. Madhouse in here.”

You blink, tilt your head back to see a gorgeous pair of blue eyes shining down at you. Takes your breath away.

“Oh! Um, no problem, I get it.”

You try to scoot as much as you can - but it really is packed, especially at the bar - and the man takes the opportunity to occupy any free space you have.

Not that you’re complaining. He’s got the type of face they put on magazines with hooks like “sexiest man alive.” A killer grin as he winks down at you, arm bracing on the bar.

“Buy ya a drink for bein’ so rude?”

You’ve barely gotten the start of, “oh it’s alright,” out before he’s signaling the bartender. His stature and presence gets him instant service though, so you let it go, fidgeting restlessly.

Even his voice sounds like a sin worth committing. He’s too attractive. Too handsome to not know it; and definitely too handsome to be chatting you up and ordering you a drink.

“You here with anyone?” he asks with an edge that makes your spine prickle. Yet you almost feel like you imagine it. His tone is normal, his expression hasn’t changed and yet. Something subsonic in the timbre of his voice, maybe.

“My sister and her husband,” you reply.

“No husband of your own?”

You try to laugh, it comes out strained and awkward. “Ah, the only man in my life has four legs.”

Instead of looking annoyed by the brush off, his eyes spark.

“Dog?”

“Yup!” And okay, alarms in your head aside, you’re always happy to talk about Johnny. He’s a safe topic. You fish your phone out of your back pocket and show him your lock screen.

The man takes a quick look at the screen, an odd, private smile flicking across his face. There and then gone, before those intense eyes are locked on you again.

“He friendly?”

You laugh a bit, perk up as the bartender returns with your drink. “Not with men. Thanks for buying!”

as you turn to go, he grabs your hip. Not hard, or even too low. But you gasp quietly, the heat of his palm searing through your clothes.

“Name’s soap, by the way.”

Infinitely more nervous now, you stutter out your own and then retreat to your sister and her husband.

Spend the rest of the night pretending not to watch Soap. He doesn’t return the courtesy, eyes trained on you, lurking around the bar. So visible it seems to only you. Something about the way the light catches his eyes reminds you of when Johnny senses a threat. When he gets low and growly, hair standing on end, eyes focused.

Soap looks like he’s hunting you.

Thankfully, your sister complains about the noise after an hour or so and the three of you leave. You’re relieved to be going home.

As you step inside, you call for Johnny again.

“Wait, who the hell is Johnny?” your sister’s husband asks, an odd look on his face. “You’re living with someone?”

You snort a bit. Does he seriously not remember you talking about your dog?

“Yeah,” you joke, “he’s the love of my life, my one and only—”

You hear the clack of the doggy door and call out again. Johnny trots in panting.

“Did you just come in from a run?” you chuckle, putting a hand out in greeting.

He comes right up to you, presses his nose to the spot where “Soap” grabbed you and snuffles.

“I know, I smell wrong,” you soothe.

He grumbles and licks at your shirt, but you gently nudge him away, turning as your sister scoffs.

“You still do that thing where you talk to them like people?” She asks. “Don’t you think that’s… childish?”

“Johnny’s basically a person in a human body,” you reply, laughing. “You’ll see.”

“Dogs shouldn’t have human names,” her husband pipes up, reaching for Johnny.

“No, wait—”

Johnny snaps just shy of his fingers and puts himself bodily between you two.

“Easy!” you yelp, hooking your hand in his collar. “Sorry, I meant to warn you - Johnny’s shy with men.”

“He almost took my bloody hand off!”

“He’s just protective. Johnny, heel.”

He stops snarling, but plants himself at your feet right there, eyes sharply trained on your brother in law. Your sister snorts.

“How are you supposed to get men back here, then?”

You jump as Johnny barks, a full deep one that your rarely ever hear. Your sister startles too, then scowls.

“I don’t,” you answer, shaking your head. “Anyway, let me just get the sheets for the spare room and we can call it a night.”

Johnny stays close at your heels the entire time, though you swear he throws a nasty glance back at your sister’s husband.

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Masterlist

[hyukalyptus]

or else what? —hueningkai x fem!reader | enemies to enemies with benefits(?). NSFW/MDNI!

cw. mean dom!kai, reader and kai are mean to each other, feat. soob and yj and their partners for a very short amount of time (not in smut part tho), camping, reader is a type A boss bitch kinda person, mentions of rain, kissing, hair pulling, mean names (slut, stupid, dumb, loser), pet names (baby), sex, light restraining, ruined orgasms, biting, nipple play, some dacryphilia, maybe a lil bit of publicness? (theyre at a campsite but implied no one else can hear anything), creampie, reader is embarrassed that she did stuff w kai and tells him, reader has a dog, reader is good at video games, chubby!reader implied, lmk if i missed anything! notes. im usually not one for mean stuff, im way more of a softie, so i tried something new but im quite nervous about it. oh! and this is based off a thought i posted the other week. lmk what ya think ;) smut under cut. wc. 4.1K

“Why are you being nice to him?” You snap at your dog who is currently greeting your friends at your front door. Normally, you wouldn’t mind, of course, but they have taken a particular liking for Kai. Apparently, you’re the only person in the world that hates him. Kai that is. The constant laughing, the sickeningly sweet optimism, and his sheer humility—it all screams fake to you.

You hate every little thing about him and he hates you right back. The way you disagree with everything he says just because, how you’re always pointing out when he’s wrong, how you seem to be depressingly pessimistic. You put up with each other for the sake of your friends—not everyone in every friend group has to get along, right? 

“Nice to see you too.”

“Someone separate them please?” Soobin asks. “I can’t deal with another argument right now.” He rubs his temple out of caution.

Everyone’s over for a game night—Soobin, his partner, River, as well as Yeonjun, and your best friend, Sage, who has been in an on-again-off-again relationship with him since they met. Right now, they’re off, but definitely still friendly. 

“How about some Smash Bros?”

“No,” you say to Kai. “Mario Kart.” 

“River and I have been talking about playing Smash Bros all day.”

“Not my problem.”

“How about we take a vote?” He suggests. You reluctantly agree, watching as you’re the only one that raises your hand to play Mario Kart before you glare at Sage, guilting them into voting for it too. Regardless of their vote, though, it’s still four against two. Kai sticks out his tongue at you just to rub it in your face. God, you hate it when he wins. 

“Maybe you should stop pouting,” Sage says, nudging your shoulder. “Beat him in the next round. You know you’re better than anyone here.” You take the opportunity to easily—and quickly—beat Kai in a one-on-one match. Now it’s his turn to pout while he grabs a snack. 

Luckily, everyone makes it through the night without any blood or tears shed but when the group’s annual camping trip comes up, the cold weather mixed with the prolonged close proximity to people leads to a grumpy Kai arguing with an even grumpier you. 

The reason behind the initial argument is long forgotten—you’re seemingly arguing over anything and everything from you stopping too often to take pictures to him taking sips from your water bottle, which he insists was an accident. Everyone’s keeping you two as far apart from each other as possible, with him leading the pack and you bringing up the rear. 

“It looks like it’s gonna rain soon,” River points out. “We should probably set up camp.” Everyone agrees, setting sights for the campsite. 

“What do you think about this spot over here, Sage?” You ask but are immediately answered with the guiltiest look from them, eyes glancing between you and Yeonjun. “Don’t tell me.” You roll your eyes for what feels like the millionth time that day. “You’re back together?” You ask quietly.

“Please don’t be mad,” they say. “It’s going really well this time.” 

“I didn’t bring another tent.” 

“Kai’s tent is huge,” Sage says, loud enough for Kai to hear, as if they’re making a suggestion to him. “Can she stay with you?” 

“I thought Yeonjun was sleeping in my tent.” 

“I was gonna stay in Sage’s,” Yeonjun responds, with an attempted wink. Everyone looks between each other, dodging each other’s eyes, no one wanting to give in. Everyone’s desperate to stay with their partners but you and Kai are desperate to not spend a single second alone together. Soobin and River won’t budge. Sage’s pleading eyes looking at you added to the pleading eyes Yeonjun sends Kai, you look at each other before he finally agrees—

“Fine,” Kai says, dropping the poles to the ground. “You gotta finish setting it up though. I’m gonna go get some water and refill the cooler with ice,” he says, leaving you with an impossible task. There’s a reason you didn’t bring your own tent.

Struggling with the tent for at least thirty minutes, it’s even less put together than when Kai turned the task over to you. The two couples have snuggled into their tents for the night and the drizzle is quickly turning into a downpour. Soaked, cold, and annoyed, Kai’s making his way back to you, anger etched all over his face when he doesn’t have a dry tent to walk into. 

“Do you not know how to put a tent up?”

“No, actually I don’t.”

“I could’ve set up three tents by now,” he says, but doesn’t have time to be much madder—he’s gotta get a roof over his own head. Without speaking, he takes over completely, getting it up in about ten minutes. It would’ve been quicker if he didn’t have to work in the rain. 

Settling in, you try to dry the parts of the interior that got wet from the rain, but it doesn’t help much. He peels off his now-soaked shirt and searches for a dry one. 

“Ah, that was my last t-shirt.”

“I’m sorry. I tried—”

“I don’t care,” he stops you, holding his hand up.

Falling silent, you change the subject, “What took you so long anyway?”

“I was talking to someone at the ice machine for a while,” he says matter-of-factly, holding up his laptop. “Wanna watch a movie before bed?” 

“No.” You lay your head on the stupid camping pillow hoping for some rest. But your plan is disrupted by the blaring trumpets of a movie intro. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Watching a movie.” 

“Turn it off.” 

“I didn’t ask for permission to watch it,” he points out. “I asked if you wanted to join me.”

“Isn’t it gonna bother the other campers?”

“Doubt they can hear it.”

Frustrated, you roll over and cover your ears. You thought you could sleep through anything, especially with the rain pouring outside, but you were wrong. Eventually, you give up, throwing your pillow down and slamming his laptop shut.

“What are you doing? You asshole—” he snaps, glaring at you. 

“Me? You’re the ass for not letting me sleep,” you fire back, narrowing your eyes. 

“I wasn’t supposed to have you in here anyway,” he mutters. 

“I’m not an asshole,” you say defensively.

“Yes, you are,” he spits. “You always have to have it your way.”

“I’m not having this argument with you,” you say, turning away and trying to block out his escalating anger. You pull the thin camping blanket over your head, desperate for some peace.

He huffs, clearly frustrated, but you ignore it. The sound of rain tapping against the tent becomes your only solace. Minutes pass in silence, each second stretching longer than the last. You can feel his restless energy beside you, the tension almost palpable.

“I can't believe you. You're so annoying,” he says. 

You simply lay there, trying to block out the muttering under his breath. The stickiness of the damp sleeping bags and the cold camping pillow are ridiculously uncomfortable.

Remembering the clean, dry blankets you have stored in the trunk of your car for emergencies and you get up to grab them silently, ignoring his insults. Returning with them, his eyes light up and he asks, “Where did you get those?”

“My car,” you answer nonchalantly, setting up your new bed. You try to salvage what you can of the sleeping bag to have some kind of barrier between the damp tent floor and your blanket, but it’s not perfect. Eventually settling on the makeshift bed, you can feel Kai staring at you through your closed eyelids. “Can I help you?” You ask without opening them.

“Aren’t you gonna share those with me?”

“Why would I?”

“You’re the one that got our other blankets and the tent all wet.” 

“Not my fault you didn’t bring back-up.”

He exasperates, clearly done with you and all your…what does he call it? Selfish nonsense? “I can’t believe I have to share a tent with you. And you get it all wet in here and won’t even share the dry blankets with me?” 

“You think I'm happy about this either?" Your arms flail before you go on one of your famous rants. “I don’t even like camping but I come along with Sage because they’re my best friend and I was looking forward to spending time alone with them to talk but because they decided to start fucking Yeonjun again I have to sleep in a tent with you, which you make me put together even though I don’t know how to put it together so its disgusting in here and you expect me to share my blankets with you? You’re never nice to me why the fuck would I share them with you? You’re always making me look like a bitch in front of everyone when I know you’re just—”

Kai suddenly yanks you by your elbow and says, “Would you please just shut up?” 

Seeing him this mad…you don’t know if he’s ever looked like this. Red in the face, eyebrows furrowed, not to mention he’s still shirtless since all his clothes are soaked. You look over his body—you’ve never seen him before—and you realize just how muscular he is. Broad-shouldered, defined pecs and ripples in his arms, particularly the one gripping you so harshly. 

You smirk at him before saying, “Make me." Looking over your face, he doesn’t know what comes over him. Maybe it's anger or frustration or the ambiance from the sound of rain against the tent and the small camping lamp, but he can’t help it. 

Crashing his lips into yours, you’re taken by surprise. You feel the power his plush lips give off, but only for a second before you push him off. 

“What the hell are you doing?” 

“I don’t–I don’t know, I, uh…” He stutters, trying to find something—anything—to say, but no luck. Looking at each other, something clicks like we need to have each other now. 

You pull him to you by cupping his cheeks and crashing your lips into his quickly, eagerly, desperately. Hands in his hair, his on your hips, he squeezes your chubby thighs, wanting more, but—

“Woah, woah, woah, what’s happening? You and I are making out?” He asks, shock etched across his face as his eyebrows furrow. 

“Well, not anymore.” You look at him confused. “Did you forget you’re the one that kissed me first?”

“That was just so you’d shut up.”

“Don’t act like you don’t want me. I see you staring at my tits all the time.” You smirk at him and his eyes shift, admitting guilt. Realization hits you. “...Is that why you’re such an ass to me? Because you’re sexually frustrated whenever you’re around me? Do you…like me?”

“No,” he says defensively. “I hate you actually. You’re so annoying.” He rolls his eyes. “But the most annoying part about you is how much I wanna fuck you.” Your eyes widen, but a smile slowly spreads across his face before he asks, “Is that why you’re such an ass to me?” Leaning in closer, he examines your face, looking for any sign of weakness. “It is, isn’t it?” You shake your head. “Say it.” 

“Kai.”

“I wanna hear you say you want me.”

The quickest, most disingenuous, “I want you,” comes out of your mouth. Did you really just say that? It’s not like you haven’t noticed how handsome he’d gotten recently, but it’s also not like you’ve ever thought about doing anything. Before tonight, the thought of him even touching you made your skin crawl. But right now, you don’t think you’ve ever wanted anyone more. Reaching for him, you add, “Now shut up and fuck me.” 

Still shirtless from when he peeled off the wet fabric a few minutes ago, he tugs at the hem of your tank top. Slipping it off you, his eyebrows raise at your bare chest—full and needing to be squeezed, which he does immediately. Your nipples perky and hard from arousal and the cool air are simply begging to be sucked. His warm, welcoming and wet lips wrapped around one elicit a sound from you that you hope is covered by the rain outside. 

The others would never let you live it down if they heard you two fucking. 

Mouths all over—his on your nipples and your collarbone, yours on his mouth and his shoulders—it’s a whirlwind of kisses and pure lust. 

“I hate you,” you murmur, adding a nice hair tug for good measure. 

“I hate you too,” he responds. “So much.” The tent, damp from the rain and hot breath warms you up, skin slick with a sheen of sweat. Sleeping bags and blankets ruffle underneath your bodies as you rush to undress each other fully. “You’re so fucking stupid,” he says against your ear. “Don’t even know how to put up a tent. Need my help for everything?”

“You’ve never been any help to me,” you respond. “Plus, we wouldn’t have gotten rained on so much if you didn’t get lost leading everyone. Need your phone for everything? Can’t even handle one short hike? Good for nothing,” you spit. “Except…you’re kind of a good kisser.”

“Wish I could say the same about you.”

“Don’t lie,” you smirk. “I’m an incredible kisser.” He may roll his eyes but he heads straight back for more. “But you’re taking too long. Hurry up,” you say between kisses. Grazing his hand down your hip, he slides two fingers between your pussy lips and—

“You’re that wet for me and I’ve barely even touched you? Desperate slut.” You grab his cock, making him jerk forward, his mouth dropping open.

“You’re already that hard and I’ve barely even touched you? Horny loser.” Without warning, he lines himself up at your entrance and shoves his cock inside you, forcing a yelp from your throat.

Covering your mouth, he leans down, gracing his lips over your earlobe before whispering, “You never shut the fuck up, do you?” And he’s relentless. Fucking you fast and hard, whispering mean, dirty shit in your ear, shivers rolling down your spine at every syllable. “You don’t deserve to feel this good.”

“And you think you deserve this pussy?” You fire right back. Although, he does seem to be winning with the sheer amount of moaning coming from your mouth compared to his controlled sounds and expert movements. You try your best to compose yourself before saying, “A dumb fuck like you doesn’t deserve to even touch my skin.”

“Is that why you gasp when I pinch your nipples?” He asks. You narrow your eyes at him. But he definitely proves himself right. Rolling your nipple between his pointer finger and thumb, basking in the chills it gives you, clearly sending shocks of pleasure throughout your body. You reach to touch his broad chest but he stops you. “Nuh-uh. Hands to yourself,” he says, gripping your wrists harshly and pinning them to the ground. 

Suddenly, you’ve never wanted to touch someone more in your life. The way his skin glistens, muscles looking so strong, a bead of sweat drips between his pecs and you swear you clit twitches. Honestly, you’re in shock. What do you usually do with your hands? Since when has he been like this? An absolute slut? A mean slut at that. But you love it. 

Your hands stay at your side after he moves to squeeze your body again but you can’t help but reach up—you’re desperate to touch him. He halts, lifting his fingers off your tits. 

“Every time you try to touch me without permission, I’ll stop touching you,” he says. You surrender, putting your hands under your back. “Good girl.”

Fuck. That felt nice too. Being degraded is one thing, but getting rewarded for following directions? That’s delicious. Heat rushes to your ears. 

“Please—”

“Ah,” he places his pointer finger over your lips. “I told you to shut up, didn’t I?” You make a show of keeping your mouth closed. “You learn so fast, hm?” You smile—a genuine giddy smile. “So cute,” he whispers, placing a thumb on your clit, circling it gently. 

But when a weak little, “Fuck,” slips out of your mouth, he stops.

“Did I say you could speak?” You shake your head. Running a thumb across the apple of your cheek, he gives you a look somewhere between my pathetic little slut and you’re being such a good girl for me. 

Keeping your mouth shut, your body is in complete bliss, succumbing to the overwhelming pleasure his cock and hands are giving you. You’re positively drunk on his cock, letting him do whatever he wants to you—touch you here, lick and bite you there, kiss on this, suck on that—not only to be his good little slut, but because it feels fucking incredible. He knows what he’s doing, you’ll give him that. 

Then you feel it, your orgasm is slowly approaching, every move he makes pushes you closer and closer to the edge. And he knows it. The little whimpers you make, trying to hold back. The twitches your clit makes. The pulses of your pussy. 

“Aw,” he starts condescendingly. “Is my good little slut gonna come for me?” You nod rapidly, being sure to keep your mouth shut and movements under control. The last thing you want right now is a punishment. Or maybe it’s the thing you want most? The lines are too blurred to tell. “Say it.”

You can barely mumble it, but you manage to croak out, “You’re gonna make me come, Kai.”

“Good girl.” He doesn’t change a single thing. It creeps closer and closer until you can feel your body start to tip over. And then he does something…expected? Surprising? Honestly, you’re not so sure anymore. He stops, your orgasm so close to crashing over you, ruined by this son of a bitch. 

Tears form in your eyes. Was he really doing this to you? This annoying, stupid fucking jerk you’ve hated for years making you cry over his cock? 

“That’s for being such a goddamn nuisance since the day I met you.” 

What do you do now? Be a jerk to him? Overpower him and pin him down? Sit there like a hole needing to be fucked? You decide to go for the last option, hoping he’ll make you come as fast as he can. Although, truthfully, you feel like one swipe across your clit would make you finish you at this point. 

“Tell me you don’t deserve me.” You keep your mouth shut. Gently wrapping his fingers around your throat, you stare at his eyes. He chuckles like he’s proud of you before he says, “You may speak.” 

“I don’t deserve you.” He squeezes harder, almost like he’s saying that’s not enough. “I don’t deserve to feel this good. I don’t deserve your cock. I don’t deserve…anything.” 

“Good girl.” He loosens his grip around your throat. He’s done with his fun now. The ache in both of your bodies is getting unbearable and he’s determined to make you come first. Which he supposes he already did, despite ruining it for you. But he’s gotta get you back to that place before he gets there first.

Returning to the hard and fast pace of fucking you like he was a few minutes ago, his cock slams in and out and out of your pussy, ripples running down your thighs, ass, tits, everywhere. He stares in awe of your perfect tits bouncing in rhythm with his thrusts. 

Your mouth opens and closes like you want to say something, but if you speak without permission, he may stop. You decide to take a chance anyway. 

“Kai…” you squeak out through the rough movements. He responds with a sweet yet sinister smile that says you may speak. “You are gonna let me come, right?”

His eyebrows furrow, face full of pity. He asks, “You think I should?”

“You better or I’ll…” You trail off.

“You’ll what?” He stops moving, therefore earning a pathetic whine from you, trying to protest without words. “What are you gonna do to me?”

Now what’s a good punishment for him? Clearly, he’s used to being the one punishing his sexual partners—you wonder how his other subs have dealt with him being a jerk. You don’t want to overpower him like you thought you did. There’s something about being pinned down like this, letting him do whatever he wants, not having to move an inch. You’re such a powerful woman everywhere else—the type A personality type, which you admit can get overwhelmingly exhausting. 

Letting someone take full control over you like this—it’s relaxing. You wonder how much he’s enjoying himself but you notice the way his eyes flutter when you simply tighten your pussy around his cock, how he hasn’t stopped touching you since you finally let him, hell, he kissed you first. Of course he’s enjoying this. And bingo—you’ve got just enough control to get what you want. 

“I’ll never let you fuck me like this again.” 

Narrowing his eyes at you, it's like he knows that you caught him in the act of something. Cocking his head to the side, he asks, “We can’t let that happen, now can we?”

Somehow, the energy shifts to be even more desperate. Taking out years and years of frustration from hating each other while simultaneously wanting to have sex. Fucking as fast as your bodies will let you, the tent fills with the absolutely obscene noises coming from your mouths. The only reason you aren’t holding back is because the rain beating against the plastic tent and the occasional thunder thankfully covers most of it. 

When one of his thumbs finds your clit, you feel like you’re floating. The air falls out of your lungs, pleasure taking over your body as you relax into your orgasm. You’re drunk, high on his cock and the only thing you’re seeing are stars and that stupid smirk plastered across his face. It rips through your body like lightning, shooting out your toes and fingertips. 

“Talk to me,” he says breathlessly in your ear. But you can’t. You can only manage strangled noises to let him know you’re having an incredible orgasm. 

Coming down from your high, though, you finally say, “Fuck, that felt so good.” 

“Tell me how good.”

“You made me feel so…so fucking good, Kai,” you say, shaking your head, unsure of what else to tell him. Call it post-nut clarity, but why the hell were you having sex with him again? Honestly, who cares? He’s actually pretty hot and he’s damn good at this too. What happens after this? Enemies with benefits? Never mention it again? You make a note to come back to this with him later. But right now, you need to get to the matter at hand. “Why don’t you tell me how good I feel?”

“Oh baby, you feel so good,” he says. “Your pussy might be the only thing I like about you.” He chuckles, his mouth dropping open, undeniably close to his own orgasm. “Well, maybe your pussy and your tits.” Burying his face between them, he bites down on the plush, groaning against your skin. 

“I need you to come inside me, Kai. Please.” 

“Keep talking to me like that.”

And you do. Giving him praise, touching him in all the right places, putting on a show for him. With a few final thrusts, he groans, whispering something you don’t catch, but you feel it. Him coming inside you with a sexy groan, covering your chest in the sloppiest of kisses and bites. 

Catching his breath, he whispers breathlessly, “Damn. That was good.” Sliding out of you, an awkwardness catches up with the two of you. You push yourself up on your elbows, attempting to gather your thoughts. His eyes are still dark with desire as he looks at you with a satisfied smirk. 

“Listen,” you say, covering your chest with your blanket. “This can’t happen again.” His smile drops.

“What?”

“The fact that we did that,” you gesture between the two of you, “never leaves this tent, you hear me?” Cocking his head to the side, he nods awkwardly. “No one can find out about this. God, I’d be so embarrassed. Let’s just…get some sleep.” 

Did you forget about what he said?

Or I’ll never let you fuck my like this again. Using that as a threat if he didn’t let you come meant you wanted to do it again, no? Slowly putting on his boxers again, he agrees, turning away from you to try and get some sleep but, all of a sudden, there’s too much on his mind. 

[vivwritesfics]

Hooked On A Feeling

Chapter Two - Milo's Momma

Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.

Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)

1.6K

Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader

Series Masterlist

Olivia Ricciardo had hoped her father would be home in time to take her to daycare. But her grandparents comforted her as they drove her. With that attitude every five year old had, Olivia climbed out of the car and walked into daycare, without talking to anybody.

The first person she spoke to that day was Milo. She was clearly in a bad mood, but he gave it time, waited for her to cheer up. Maybe she was tired; Milo knew he was always grumpy when he was tired.

But Olivia wasn’t getting any happier. So, Milo got up from the floor and went to talk to the teacher.

As she watched him walk away, Olivia looked ready to cry again. Her bestest friend (of a whole week) walked away, leaving her on her own. Olivia shed a single tear, but the other children were watching, so she sucked it up.

But then Milo returned, dinosaur teddy bear in hands. He clutched it tight as he walked back over to Olivia and sat on the floor beside her. "This is Rexy," he said as Olivia hesitantly reached for it. "He's my favourite teddy in the whole wide world but you're sad so you can have him for today, but only for today okay?" He said quickly as Olivia squeezed the plush toy.

"Thank you," she said quietly and squeezed Rexy tighter.

Olivia didn't let go of the bear for the rest of the day. As she and Milo played with toys of chased each other around the yard, she always had Rexy.

That was exactly why Milo brought Rexy to daycare. Because, when he was having a tough day, nothing made him happier than having Rexy there.

At the end of the day Olivia handed Rexy back. Milo packed him into his bag and, together, the children walked out of daycare, heading to where the parents gathered. Olivia had no hopes of her daddy being there, waiting to pick her up and drive her home.

She still scanned the faces of all of the parents, and didn't see her own. "C'mon," said Milo, taking Olivia’s hand and pulling her towards his mummy, who was waiting by the gate.

As he walked over, his mother crouched down, pulling her into her arms. "And who have we got here, munchkin?" She asked him, taking his dinosaur backpack and swinging it over her shoulder.

"Momma, this is Olivia," Milo said.

Immediately Y/N noticed the tears in her eyes. "Hello, Olivia," Y/N said in a kind voice. "Milo has told me all about you," she said, trying to give the girl a reassuring smile.

Olivia levelled her a look. "Did Milo tell you about my famous race car driver daddy?"

"He did," Y/N replied, trying to stifle the small laugh she had at the little girls determination. "Well, if he or you mummy anywhere around here?" Y/N asked as she held Milo's hand in her own.

Crossing her arms, Olivia looked around the car park for her grandparents. Or their car. But it wasn't there. They weren't there. For the millionth time that day, Olivia wanted to cry.

But then she saw the 2006 Toyota Hilux.

And there he was, striding towards her in am AlphaTauri hat and sunglasses. "DADDY!" Olivia screamed at the top of her lungs and went running towards the man. He wasted no time in scooping her up and planting a kiss on her cheek.

"Hey, badger," he said, walking her towards where she had come from to thank the parent that was keeping an eye on his little girl.

Daniel walked over to a young woman, who looked as tired as he felt, holding the hand of a little boy. "That's Milo, daddy," she said into his ear as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

But she was walking away. "C'mon Milo," she said and tried to pull the five year old away.

Milo pulled away from his mother. "But Momma! That Olivia’s race car dad!" He insisted.

Trying to hide a sigh, Y/N picked Milo up and placed him on her hip. Milo had been wanting to invite Olivia over for a playdate for the last week, but had insisted his Momma wait until Olivia’s grandparents or dad were back, instead of her mum.

And now that Olivia’s dad was here, Milo was gonna get that playdate.

"Are you Olivia’s dad?" Y/N guessed as she approached.

Wearing his typically charming smile, Daniel held Olivia with one hand and held the other out towards Milo's mother (who couldn't do the same with her son in his arms). "Yeah I'm Olivia’s dad, Daniel."

"I'm Milo's mum," said Y/N as she nodded towards him. "Milo would like to know if Olivia would like to come to our house for a playdate," she offered.

Daniel let his smile falter. He loved that Olivia had made a friend, that somebody wanted to invite her for a playdate, but there was always doubt at the back of his mind. What if they were using her to get to him? It was incredibly sad that he had to think like that, but, with the life he had, he had to think like that.

“Can I, daddy?” Asked Olivia as she grinned. “Pleeeeaaaase!”

Daniel looked back at Milo’s mother. She was pretty, and she looked honest. But you couldn't tell what somebody was all about just from their face. "Do you mind if I come with her?" He asked. Milo might be been Olivia's friend, but his mum was still a stranger, and Daniel just wanted to make sure his badger was safe.

"Of course," said Milo's mother. "Say, this Friday after daycare?" She asked.

It wasn't a race weekend, so Daniel nodded his head. "Great," she said, adjusting Milo in her arms. "I'm Y/N, by the way," she finished.

The two said a quick goodbye, with the kids waving enthusiastically to each other as they went. Even as Milo got into his booster seat in the back of Y/N's Peugeot. Y/N offered Daniel one last smile as she put Milo's bag in the back and climbed into the driver's seat.

Daniel watched as Y/N pulled out of the daycare car park and made his own way out, driving Olivia home. "Are you excited for your playdate with Milo, Badger?" He asked as he looked into the rear view mirror.

Olivia was bouncing in her seat, cheeks red from smiling. "Yeah!" She shouted. But, mostly, Olivia was just happy to have her father home.

***

It was a Wednesday when Y/N met Daniel. The playdate was scheduled for two days time, so she immediately set about cleaning when she walked through the door.

If it was just Olivia coming for the playdate, she wouldn't have been cleaning so obsessively. Still cleaning, just not this obsessively. But, now that Daniel was coming too, sue wanted the house to be perfect.

With a house the size of theirs, it didn't take long to clean. She had Milo cleaning up his toys in the living room while she dusted the surfaces downstairs. "But Momma," Milo protested as he picked up a tray of lego. "'Livia and I are just gonna get my toys out again."

"Please, Munchkin," she said as she crouched down to gather up more of his toys. "I want Olivia and her daddy to see how nice our house is." She opened her arms and Milo collapsed into them, quietly muttering an 'okay momma'.

Y/N cleaned the entire house from top to bottom. She cleaned the two rooms that made up the downstairs and the bedrooms upstairs. She put Milo's shoes away in the cupboard and made sure the kitchen was clean, wiped the muddy cat paw prints from the wood of the stairs.

While Milo watched television, she cleaned his room, making sure it was perfect for when Daniel and Olivia came over.

"Momma, Olivias dad is gonna like our house," he said as she straightened up the rug in the living room. "Olivia said he's really nice."

"I'm sure he is, Munchkin. Momma just wants the house to be nice and clean, okay?"

"Okay Momma," Milo answered and went back to watching the television.

Taglist (OPEN): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @cassie0sstuff @spideybv28 @andydrysdalerogers @aundercover @lou-bean28 @landossainz @purplephantomwolf @ggaslyp1@layazul @phantomxoxo @minkyungseokie @gills-lounge @hollie911 @annispamz @lillians-world-is-f1 @cixrosie @notyouraveragemochii @charli123456789 @amalialeclerc @stay1strongbeautiful @tallrock35 @teenwolf01 @chiliwhore @darleneslane @sava207 @thatsusbitch @formulaal

[milaisreading]

Your isagi sister!yn and sae is soo cute!! Image them being turned into toddlers and toddler isagi sister!yn cries whenever you try to take her away from Yoichi and toddler Sae bites anyone that tries to take him away from isagi sister!yn

🌱🩷: Hiii! Sorry it took this long to do the request! Hope this is fine and thank u for requesting!

Warnings: Reader uses she/her. Requests are open.

⚽️Blue lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

Rin didn't know who or what he had pissed off to go through whatever this was. The morning was very normal, in his opinion. He woke up, exercised, did his bed, did his usual routine in the bathroom, and then went to get breakfast. Now, usually he would wake up his brother to get food with him, but he decided to let him sleep in since he arrived pretty late from Spain last night. But, as the clock hit 12, Rin grew worried and decided to check up on the older Itoshi. The room itself looked normal, as you would expect the room of someone who just arrived from a long flight to look like, but what wasn't normal was the person he saw on the bed.

'A... Is that my brother?!' Rin' eyes widened in shock as he looked at the 3-year-old Sae sleeping soundly on the bed.

'What the hell happened here?!'

And the rest that happened Rin could only remember in a daze. He remembered getting a call from Yoichi, saying there was something off with his sister as well. So, the younger Itoshi did whatever he could think of in that moment. He packed up his brother into some old clothes their mom kept for memory's sake and made his way to the Isagi house as fast as possible. Sae, as Rin could observe, was grumpy the whole way and really looked like he was plotting murder. Rin was a little worried about the older Itoshi, but knew his brother well enough that he will behave.

As they arrived at the Isagi house, Rin knocked on the door and waited while holding Sae in a secure manner.

"Thank God you are here! Sis turned- Sae as well?!" Rin's eyes widened as soon as Yoichi opened the door. In his arms was a toddler version of his sister, blinking at both Sae and him while holding a plushie of a spiny lobster.

It looked like the girl could recognize them, but was too shy to say or do anything. Well, thank God Sae was there for those things. The boy's eyes widened as his face turned red while looking at her.

"Mine." Sae said as he made grabby hands towards the girl, while also trying to get out of Rin's grip.

"Hey! No! Stop it!" Rin yelled as he glared down at Sae.

"No! Mine! Gimme!!"

Yoichi flinched at their loudness and quickly covered his sister's ear and hugged her closer.

"Please stop yelling. Sis is really sensitive to loud noises. You will make her cry."

Rin shut up and so did Sae, who immediately looked at the girl. (Y/n) stared at them both with wide eyes as a few tears slid down her face.

"Yochan..." She sobbed and grabbed her brother's shirt to comfort herself.

"Just come inside." Yoichi said as he started comforting his sister. Sae's eyes never left the girl, and he could feel his heart beating faster as he looked more at her.

"Mine..."

Eventually the girl had calmed down and the two were able to leave their siblings on the floor to play while they tried to figure out how to fix all of this.

"Boo..." (Y/n) smiled as she poked Sae's cheek with her lobster plushie. The redhead started blushing and put his hand on the spot. (Y/n) started giggling at his reaction, which caused the boy to get more embarrassed.

"I will go and get something to drink..." (Y/n) looked over at Yoichi as he for up from the couch.

"Yochan." She quickly called out as the boy turned to look at his older... well, now little sister.

"I will be back in a minute." Yoichi smiled calmly and walked away, leaving the girl looking at his back in sadness. Sae pouted that her attention wasn't on him anyone and quickly took the abandoned lobster and pressed it against her cheek.

"Boop." Sae giggled as (Y/n) looked at him in surprise, blushing just like Sae did previously.

--------

Now, Yoichi didn't expect much from his day... especially not being glared at by a toddler-sized Sae while his sister was hugging and crying for him not to leave her alone. The boy looked back down at his sister and put a hand on her head, causing her to look up at him.

"I just need to go to the bathroom-"

"No!"

"I will be back in a minute-"

"No!"

"Sae will keep you company-"

"NO!"

Yoichi sighed as he felt the redhead kick his leg.

"What is going on here?" Rin raised an eyebrow as he walked into the living room and saw the chaos that unfolded in it.

"Sis won't let me go into the bathroom."

Yoichi pointed at the crying girl, then at Sae, who tried to get onto the coach where (Y/n) was.

"And he is just mad at me."

Rin blinked a few times before sighing in frustration.

"Hold up. Kids their age can be easily distracted." The Itoshi said while going to grab his phone. Yoichi let out a defeated sigh while helping Sae onto the couch, the other Itoshi quickly hugging (Y/n) when he got close enough.

'He is quite attached to her... even more as kids now.' Yoichi thought as he witnessed Sae's actions as well as his glare.

"Here, (Y/n), look at this." Rin's voice caused her to look over and loosen up her grip on Yoichi. The loud music as well as colors coming from Rin's phone caused the girl to look over in confusion. Soon after, she smiled and loosened up her grip around Yoichi. Sae sighed and hugged her tighter while (Y/n) kept her attention on the phone.

Yoichi used this moment and got away from the toddlers. Rin was happy it had worked... for about 2 minutes, because (Y/n) quickly looked over to the side Yoichi was previously. The Itoshi's eyes slowly widened when he saw her smile drop and eyes slowly water.

"Wait- No!"

"Yochan!!" She started crying loudly as Rin groaned and looked over at Sae, who sported a glare on his face.

-------

"Play." Sae said, excitedly looking at (Y/n) as he held a football in front of himself. The said girl was sat on Yoichi's lap and frowned while shaking her head. Sae pouted and tried to walk closer to grab her and mover her away from Yoichi, but the girl just hugged her brother tightly and shook her head.

"No!"

Yoichi groaned silently as he felt Sae's glare on his form.

'Can't believe toddler Sae hates me now... I hope he forgets this when turns back to normal.' He thought and patted his sister's head, causing her to look up at him.

"How about you go and play with Sae? I will stay here and you can-"

"Noo!" She cried out and Yoichi quickly jumped in to save the situation.

"It's ok! You don't have to! We can cuddle for the rest of the day instead." Yoichi laughed nervously as (Y/n) calmed down and smiled, nodding her head in excitement.

Yoichi would have rejoiced in the fact that he had calmed her down, if it wasn't for the fact that Sae stomped on his foot in anger.

------

"Hate him." Rin turned to look at his moody brother.

"Who?"

Sae looked up and pointed in Yoichi's direction, who was busy playing with (Y/n).

"Is it because she prefers him over you-"

Rin quickly cut himself off when Sae sent him an icy glare.

"Look, Sae, she doesn't like Yoichi more than you... she just wants to spend some time with her brother." Rin started softly, causing Sae to look over at him.

"You are still her number 1, you know." He finished as Sae's face lit up at those words.

The Itoshis turned to look at Yoichi and (Y/n) again, only to see her give her brother a pack on the cheek. Rin sighed in defeat when he saw Sae's glare again.

'Back to square 1....'

[bakukags]

hiii i luv your blog!! honestly the 'more then enough' fanfic had my crying lol :)) so i saw your requests were open and was wondering if you could do a bakugou x reader were y/n is bakugou's and deku's childhood friend and they have a lot of trauma bc of their dad who is an ex pro hero becoming a villian when shes in ua and bakugou has always had feelings for her and comforts her when class 1-a sees it on the news. make any changes youd like :))

the 3 things bakugou taught you (bakugou x reader)

summary: As a childhood friend of Bakugou and Deku, you had always dreamed of attending U.A. to train and become heroes together. However, everything turns upside down when Class 1-A discovers that your father, once a former Pro-Hero, has now become a Villain. In the chaos of it all, you find that Bakugou is full of surprises and that there may be more to him than what meets the eye.

pairing: bakugou x female! reader

genre: fluffy angst 

warnings: slight swearing 

word count: 4,176

a/n: thank you so much for all of your kindness and support <3 my request box is open!! please let me know if y'all would be interested in a part 2 or how I can improve my writing :)

Growing up with Bakugou Katsuki had taught you three things:

Bakugou Katsuki had a temper like a firework - explosive, loud, and colorful. 

His bark was somehow worse than his bite.

No matter how grumpy he was, you couldn’t stop smiling around him.

“What’s wrong with your face?” Bakugou grimaced, as you jogged to catch up, an extra bounce in your step. However, he slowed down slightly, allowing you to fall into step with him. 

“My dad’s coming home today.” Your grin widened. “I’m going to visit home later today to see him.” 

Your father was the pro-hero Aeris, who was known for his air-like attibutes and unique speed. You had also inherited his abilities, and his day-to-day heroism was what first motivated you to enroll into UA alongside Bakugou. Growing up, he had encouraged you to become a hero that not only helps the world, but changes the world for the better. 

“Happy are those who dream dreams and are ready to pay the price to make them come true.” Whenever he came home from work, he always reminded you of his life motto with a warm smile lighting up his face. “And you my dear, have the most beautiful dream. But you must also be ready to have the strength to pay the price when it comes to fruition.” 

From then on, you had resolved that you would do anything to become a hero. You father’s words had inspired you to become someone who would willingly sacrifice yourself in order to fulfill your dreams of saving the world; just like your father. As he rarely came home, you were especially elated on the days he did, today being one of those days.

Bakugou grunted in response, eyeing your chipper expression with thinly veiled annoyance. 

“Well stop it. It makes you look stupider than normal.” He grumbled, looking away from your bright smile.

“Mhmm,” You hummed noncommittally, not really listening. The walk back from class had become your guys’ unspoken routine. Ever since the two of you had moved into the dorms, Bakugou always waited after class for you to pack your bag so that the two of you could walk back together. Of course, he’d rather die than admit to you that he was waiting, often making up excuses such as finishing up an assignment or perfectly timing the speed at which he placed his books back into his bag. 

“I’ll go with you. To see your father." His tone indicated that it was a non-negotiable statement. You tilted your head, slightly confused. He had never accompanied you before. 

“I can’t have an idiot like you wandering around at night.” He clarified, clearing his throat. “You’d be too easy of a target for Villains. It’s almost like you want to get attacked.” 

You opened your mouth to point out that you were one of the top 5 students of Class 1-A and that you could handle yourself, thank you very much. However, the words died on your tongue when you caught sight of how his fingers twitched restlessly at his side, at how he was intentionally looking everywhere but at you. Many people wouldn’t pick up on it, but you knew him better than anyone. The signs were were clear - Bakugou Katsuki, of all people, was worried. For you. Your smile widened.

“If you wanted to spend more time with me Katsu, you could’ve just asked.” You teased, laughter bubbling in your voice. 

“That’s not, I don’t- stop making things up crazy woman!” He spluttered in response, the tips of his ears turning pink.

Much to Bakugou’s dismay, you continued laughing, causing you to almost miss Izuku falling into step alongside you. 

“Hey guys! Good training today, huh?” Izuku exclaimed, smiling at you. You grinned back, nodding excitedly in agreement. Your spirits were still high from your previous conversation with Bakugou. However, upon spotting the freckled boy, Bakugou’s face immediately morphed into a deep scowl. His eyebrows furrowed irritably, but he remained silent.

“Izu!” You grabbed onto his arm, just like you had growing up. “Training was amazing! Did you get a chance to see my practice match? I could hardly believe it - Shoto and I tied!” You chattered incessantly, easily falling into natural conversation with him. The three of you used to always hang out together and you found yourself suddenly missing the green-haired boy’s presence. 

“It’s been a while since we’ve hung out!” You continued. “You should join us more often - it’ll be just like old times!" 

A pink flush spread across Izuku’s cheeks, trailing down his neck.

“Of-of course, I’d love to!” Izuku stuttered, eyes glancing down at your arms that were still wrapped around his. A faint crackling popping sound, along with the smell of smoked caramel filled the air, causing the both of you to glance at Bakugou. He now had his hands curled into fists, jaw tightly clenched. 

“He’s not invited.” Bakugou spat out, eyeing the two of you murderously. Growing up with Bakugou however, made you immune to his violent tendencies. You smiled sweetly in return, letting go of Izuku in favor of placatingly rubbing Bakugou’s arm. 

“You’re always invited,” You said to Izuku before raising an eyebrow at Bakugou, daring him to argue. He hissed like a cat baring his teeth, but didn’t protest.

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind!” Izuku nodded, eyes flickering between you and Bakugou hesitantly. “You guys must be pretty close now - almost inseperable huh?”

“We’re not.” Bakugou snarled at the same time you chirped “Yup!” The two of you looked at each other for a moment before you let out a laugh, shrugging nonchalantly.

“It’s funny because you guys are total… opposites.” Izuku spoke carefully, glancing at Bakugou as if he was a ticking time bomb ready to explode at any moment. The green-haired boy’s words were true - Bakugou oozed aggression and abrasiveness, while you were all cheerfulness and tact. While Bakugou burned intensely like the sun, you were constant like the moon. Just as bright, but in a different way. After the blonde boy had been kidnapped by Villains, he had refused to talk about the situation to anyone. Everyone had pestered him with countless opinions and questions - except for you. He didn’t need to speak in order for you to know how he felt or understand what he needed. You had spent your whole life learning him, and now, all you had to do was merely stay by his side as an unwavering source of support. The two of you had been attached by the hip ever since. 

“His grumpiness adds to the appeal.” You giggled. “Right?” You turned to look up at Bakugou, ready for a classic snarky remark, but your eyes met molten embers instead. Taken by surprise, you tripped, stumbling over your own foot. Two hands immediately reached out to steady you: one belonging to Izuku and the other belonging to Bakugou. The blonde boy let go of you just as quickly as he had touched you, as if your skin had scorched him. However, Izuku’s hand remained, steadying you. You shot him a grateful look. 

“Thanks.” You regained your balance with a sheepish smile. 

Bakugou’s face darkened as his gaze shifted from yours to Izuku’s hand, which still lingered on your arm. A low growl left his lips as his eyes burned holes into Izuku, who instantly let go.

“So-Sorry! I’m glad you’re okay! I mean-are you okay?” He sputtered, eyes wide.

“She’ll be fine once you leave.” Bakugou spat venomously, a vein bulging out of his forehead. Izuku chuckled uncomfortably while your gaze darted nervously between the two boys, unsettled by the sudden escalation of emotions. The air suddenly felt a little too warm, too tense. In a second Bakugou was moving, stopping only when he stood between you and Izuku, effectively separating the two of you.

“What kind of idiot can’t even get back to the dorms without falling?” Bakugou sharply retorted, nostrils flaring. “Hurry up, I’m hungry.” He stalked away, leaving you to direct an apologetic glance at Izuku before following close behind. 

“That was rude.” You glanced towards the blonde boy as you struggled to catch up to him.

“Not my fault Deku pissed me off.” He grunted in response. 

“And it’s not his fault that you have a short fuse.” You rolled your eyes in annoyance.

If those words had come out of anyone else, you probably would be slammed against the wall and blasted into oblivion. But you were always the exception. He growled, the sound low and dangerous.

“Not right now, sunshine.” He barked your nickname out like it was a curse, but you knew better than to take him seriously. Your words had struck a little too close to home, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. He angrily slammed the door to the dorms open, uncharacteristically propping it open for you.

“Move it. I don’t have all day.” He practically yelled in your ear, causing you to wince. He at least had the decency to look back at you half-apologetically, before lowering his voice to a more suitable volume. “Well? Why aren’t you walking idiot?”

“Thanks, I think?” You shrugged, hesitantly walking through the door. “But you really got to tone it down Katsu, I me-”

The words caught in your throat. You froze, causing Bakugou to ram right into you.

“What the hell sunshine? What kind of idiot stands in the middle of the doorway?” He barked, but you didn’t respond. Your eyes were glued to the television, trained on the newscaster Miyagi who imparted the breaking headlines for today.

“Breaking news - A Pro-Hero has turned out to be a Villain? You heard it here folks, Ex Pro-Hero Aeris was found injuring several innocent children just this afternoon. It appears he has been secretly working alongside the League of Villains as an undercover agent.”

The screen cut, and suddenly, footage of a man filled the TV screen. His grin looked borderline crazed, an unknown murderous glint flooding his eyes. Two heros held him down as he struggled against them, handcuffs digging into his wrists.

Your legs gave out, and you stumbled backwards. Somebody immediately caught you, muttering something into your ear, but you couldn’t tear your eyes from the screen. All you could see was your father’s deranged expression flooding the screen. 

“No.” You whispered, eyes peeled on the TV, arms trembling. “No. This can’t be real.”

"How could you do this?” A civilian yelled at the ex Pro-hero, angry tears blurring her features. “Don’t you have a child too? A daughter?”

All eyes turned to you, the dorm falling impossibly silent. This couldn’t be happening. Your whole world was collapsing, right in front of your eyes. Your arm reached outwards in attempts to grab onto something, anything, that could ground you. A warm hand enveloped yours immediately. You latched onto it, squeezing tightly. Something deep inside of you knew that you should look tear your eyes from the screen, but you for some twisted reason, you couldn’t. You needed to know more. You needed to know why.

Your father stopped struggling, finally allowing the heros to usher him into a police car. 

“So?” Your father shrugged. His posture suddenly looked eerily calm and nonchalant, but his eyes remained dark. Frenzied, yet disturbedly content. He looked stared right into the camera. At you. “Why would I care? I never considered her to be my daughter anyways.”

Those words were all it took to send you spiraling. The walls closed in on you, trapping you, until suddenly, it was impossible to breathe. Your whole life was a lie. The person you had always looked up to in life, the person responsible for your existence, had just revealed that he never truly cared if you existed. You thought back to your childhood. He had taught you how to ride a bike, how to cook chicken marsala, how to use your powers for good. He had been your sole role model, had shaped you into the person you were today, and now he was-

Happy are those who dream dreams and are ready to pay the price to make them come true.

Your dad’s life motto rang in your mind unbidden, yet it no longer sounded like encouragement. It sounded like a threat. 

Are you happy? You wanted to ask him. Was the price worth it? Was betaying me, betraying the world worth it? Even though the questions screamed inside your head, you knew you didn’t want to hear their answers. A part of you knew what his response would be and hated it. 

“It’s a trick.” You whispered, still in denial. A tear tricked down your cheek; you barely felt it. Your voice grew louder, more insistent. 

“They’re lying. They have to be lying!” The words rang in the room, sharp and empty. A gust of wind rushed surrounded you as your face twisted with fury. Your classmates stared back at you, speechless. You had always been the calm and collected one, the one to rein Bakugou in whenever he exploded. But the roles had suddenly reversed, and suddenly you were the one bubbling over, about to explode. They had never seen you like this before - all seething, abrasive, aggressive. Even you had never felt this way before. 

“It’s really a shame,” Mineta was the first to speak up. “that your father is a criminal. I mean, you’d think even criminals love their daughters-”

Before anyone could even blink, you were across the room, slamming Mineta hard against the wall. 

“Say it again.” You growled dangerously, hands wrapped around his throat. A couple classmates tried to intervene, only to be blown back by a harsh gust of wind. 

“It’s a pity. You’re so pretty, but I guess even you have violent tendencies.” Mineta sneered, wheezing when you tightened your grip around his neck. “It makes sense though. Like father, like daughter. ” 

His words crawled along your skin and you instantly dropped him. He spluttered, leering as you backed away. All your life, you had been proud to be called your father’s daughter. But now, you felt nothing but a wave of shame and disgust. You looked up at your classmates. They all stared back with stiff postures and raised defenses. As if they too, thought that you would become a Villain. Blinking back tears, you did the only thing you could do. You ran.

You ran until your lungs nearly gave out, until nausea overwhelmed you. Gripping the edges of a nearby trash can, you emptied out all of the contents of today’s lunch. Your body trembled as you fell to the floor, pulling your knees in. The sound of stomping echoed in the halls, loud and harsh. Bakugou. Your stomach churned; he was the last person you wanted to see.

“Go away.” You growled, torn between wanting to be left alone and being too drained to run away. He ignored you, like he usually did, but this time it made you furious. Why couldn’t he just listen to you, just take you seriously for once? 

“I told you to go away Bakugou Katsuki!” The words were icy cold and you heard the stomping pause for a moment. All your life, even when you both got into disagreements, you had never once called him by his full name before. Yet for some reason, you couldn’t let him see you like this - embarassingly weak and pathetic. 

“What are you, my mother?” He retorted. The footsteps continued again, until he was soon towering over you. “Don’t call me that - shit’s weird.” 

“I mean it.” Your words were coated with venom. You refused to look at him. “Leave me alone.”

Bakugou ignored you again, choosing instead to take a seat next to you. 

“When have I ever listened to you?” He scoffed. “Don’t expect me to start now.” 

You didn’t reply, curling deeper into a ball instead. The two of you sat in silence for several moments. The longer you sat, the more it all sank in. Your whole life had been a sick and twisted lie - how could you even start to separate the fiction from reality? Your breathing started to grow more ragged as you spiraled further, your throat tightening. You watched as your vision grew more and more blurry, until a choked sob ripped free from your chest. Hiding your head in your knees, you finally let the tears pour down your cheeks, let your shoulders shake from the sobs. 

You felt a hand grab yours, the same hand that had wrapped around yours earlier in the dorms. Bakugou silently pulled you towards him, wrapping his arm around your shoulders in a tentative hug. Immediately you burrowed yourself into his broad chest, finding comfort in the way he held you closer to him, as if his arms could protect you from reality. 

“I don’t even know,” You murmured, breath hitching. “what to believe anymore. If he raised me to be like him, then maybe I’m-” A villain too. You swallowed the words back into your throat, but they still hung in the air, unspoken. Another sob wracked through your chest, causing Bakugou’s grip on you to tighten. You stayed like that for a while, seconds passing into minutes. As the blonde boy tentatively rubbed soothing circles into your back, you couldn’t help the incredulous laugh bubbling alongside your sobs - Bakugou being calm and soothing? Your life was definitely falling apart. 

“Don’t be an idiot. You’re obviously not a villain.” He spoke with absolute certainty, as if he was merely stating a fact, like how the sky was blue or the grass green.

“You can’t know that.” You murmured, remembering the way you had nearly strangled Mineta, the way your classmates had all stared at you afterwards. “Mineta-”

“Is taken care of.” Bakugou’s chest rumbled as he cut you off, tone menacing. “He’ll no longer have the audacity to look at you, let alone even speak to you. Neither will the others. I’ve made damn sure of it myself.”

Warmth spread throughout your stomach, rising up into your chest and onto your cheeks. You hid your flushed face further into his shirt. You opened your mouth to protest-

“Don’t even start sunshine.” Bakugou interjected, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You were upset and Mineta had a shitty attitude. If anything, he deserved it.” 

You let out a watery chuckle. Only Bakugou would justify nearly strangling someone. As if sensing your upcoming retort, he spoke again. 

“You didn’t hurt anyone. And you never will because…” He paused, eyes trained at the wall above your head. The following words sounded like they were being ripped from him against his will. “you’re one of the good ones, alright? Why else would I spend so much time with you? It’d be embarassing, ya know?”

You understood what he was trying to say. Bakugou always needed the best of the best, in every aspect. Which meant that whatever he chose to do or whoever he chose to spend time with, all of it had to be good. The best, in every sense of the word. After all, it’d be embarassing to him if it wasn’t. He’d view it as an unforgiveable slight towards his perfectionistic tendencies. 

“Thank you Katsu.” You breathed in deeply, his signature smell of ashy caramel and fresh pine filling your nose, relaxing your limbs. You weren’t quite sure how you had gotten here, how you had somehow managed to slip in between the cracks of his impossibly high standards. You certainly didn’t feel like the best and you weren’t even sure if you believed his words, but they somehow still brought you comfort. At least you knew that someone in your life was raw and real. It had always been that way with Bakugou - what you saw was what you got. 

"It’s nothing.” He huffed, but you caught a hint of a smile on his lips. Moving his hands upwards, he started playing with your hair, his touch oddly gentle. 

It wasn’t nothing, but you didn’t have the strength to argue. Instead, you silently accepted the bottle of water he was offering to you. After muttering a soft thanks, you allowed the liquid to coat your dry tongue while matching the sounds of his even breathing with your own. And as the two of you sat in comfortable silence, you felt something in the air shift. For the first time, you noticed the fluttering in your stomach; the racing of your heart. You wondered if Bakugou felt it too.

The blonde boy eyed the window, watching as the rain started to pour down, droplets splattering across the glass. The sound was soothing, melding perfectly with the melody of our matched breaths. 

“I like the rain.” You said, tilting your face slightly toward the window. 

He snorted. “Of course you do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You like everything.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s annoying.”

“Not everything.” You protested, shifting your body.

“Well, you like me.” He joked, all bravado. You stilled. One moment passed, then two. 

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Bakugou paused. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was flustered. A faint crackling pop echoed in the hallway. “I only meant who wouldn’t like m-”

“I do.” The confession blurts out of your mouth before you can even think. “Like you I mean.”

Maybe your defenses were lowered because of the constant crying. Or maybe it was because of the way he was gazing at you now - like you were something precious, something so beautiful that he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you, even for a second. 

“Took you long enough to catch on.” He swallowed, nonchalance forced into his voice. Another pop echoed in the hall. You stifled a grin as he forcefully stuffed his sparking palms into his pockets to hide them. A moment passed before your eyes widened as you connected the dots.

“For how long?” You breathed, voice catching in your throat.

“Too long.” He said gruffly, keeping it vague. “A snail moves at a faster pace than you.”

A laugh made it’s way out of your throat. “You could’ve said something!”

“That’s lame,” He huffed. “and you know it. But since we’re already on this topic, Deku better stay the hell away from you now that-”

You kissed the edge of his lips, partly to shut him up and partly because you could. He instantly froze, a shade of red rising up his neck. 

“If you’re gonna do that.” He whispered, the sound deep and husky. “Then do it right.”

He yanked you towards him, the move rugged and harsh, pulling your mouths together. Kissing him was like a smoldering fire - hot, burning, and intense. His arms pulled you closer, and you wanted more of this, more of him. He kissed you like a starving man tasting bread for the first time, and when you pulled away, he groaned reluctantly, chest gasping for air. You caught his gaze and held it, a brief moment of understanding passing between the two of you. And for the first time, you knew that despite everything, you were going to be okay.

A smile crept it’s way onto your face, the way it always tended to whenever Bakugou was present. In your head, you found yourself unconsciously amending the list of things you had learned about Bakugou over the years: 

Bakugou Katsuki had a temper like a firework - explosive, loud, and colorful. But when the time called for it, he could also be gentle, quiet, and fiercely protective. 

Although his bark was somehow worse than his bite, when it came to you, he had no problems following through with his bite. After all, he was an excellent kisser. 

No matter how grumpy he was, you couldn’t stop smiling around him. You still weren’t quite sure why yet, but you did know one thing for certain. 

Through thick and thin, through the lies and the villains, Bakugou Katuski would always be there for you. He might be abrasive and biting. He might be aggressive and impulsive. But he was also solid and real. He was true to his word and below all those layers, he was inconceivably, irrevocably good. And of course, most importantly - he was most definitely all yours. 

[callsign-rogueone]

that time of the month

fourth wing boys (Aaric, Brennan, Bodhi, Dain, Garrick, Liam, Ridoc, Sawyer, Xaden) x reader

how our favorite boys would take care of you when you’re on your period [request]

words: 588

🏷: no book spoilers. gender neutral, no pronouns used. mentions of periods, cramps,, etc. soft and fluffy. these are kinda short bc it was hard to not make them repetitive — I think they all give excellent care + cuddles 🥰

Aaric is a quiet support kind of guy to me. he’ll be by your side, but not overbearing or too touchy. really good at playing with your hair and massaging the back of your neck if you get migraines (like I do) he also sleeps flat on his back and perfectly still like a total weirdo, so he’s great to use as a body pillow.

Brennan is the number one man for the job, and I’m not just saying this because he’s my favorite. he’s a mender, so he can literally stop your pain, and he can get stains out of clothes super easily. also just a very nurturing and gentle person, takes excellent care of you all week.

Bodhi is going to use this as an excuse to cuddle you and take naps all week (I love how the Bodhi girls have collectively decided that he’s just a lil cuddlebug 🥺). expect lots of murmured words of affirmation about how strong you are and how much he loves you.

Dain, the overgrown boyscout he is (I say this affectionately) is prepared. he knows when that time is coming up, and he is properly equipped to take care of you. has everything you need in both his room and yours. also gives a 10/10 back massage (canon, actually.)

Garrick insists that you spend the week in his room, because his bed is more comfortable (it honestly is) and that way he can take care of you. he’s very nice to cuddle up with. lets you sleep in his clothes, too, for maximum comfort. has a secret stash of all your favorite snacks, too — he’s been getting them from the fliers. don’t tell Xaden. (Xaden totally knows, and is also getting snacks from them.)

Liam makes sure you’re eating even if you have no appetite, and that you’re staying hydrated, etc. you might grumble about it, but absolutely nobody can say no to that face. he knows not to take it personally if you get mad at him, because you’re hormonal + in pain. gives fabulous cuddles, too, and lots of sweet words.

Ridoc knows not to make any jokes at your expense or fuck with you when you’re feeling fragile, instead showering you with cheesy verbal affection to get the grumpiness out of your system and get you feeling a little better — as much as you can, when you feel like your insides are being ripped out. uses his hands like ice packs for you, holding them on any place that’s particularly achy.

Sawyer was a little awkward about it at first, but now he’s a seasoned boyfriend who knows what you need and does it without you needing to ask; snacks, cuddles, back rubs, so on and so forth. helps you with whatever’s particularly difficult this week. ties your shoes for you so you don’t have to bend down and strain your back, etc.

Xaden can sense that you’re in pain, and the minute he’s able to, he’s scooping you up and whisking you away to rest in his arms. abuses his wingleader privledges a little bit, letting you have the worst day(s) off. don’t bother trying to lie to him and say that you’re fine — he knows you aren’t. don’t question the sudden change in his normal tough-guy persona either; just enjoy it.

++ none of these men are at all scared or grossed out by a little blood. they’re men, not boys, and they’re used to it anyway, going to this deathtrap of a school.

[mj-iza-writer]

Warning: infantilized Whumpee. Whumpee is baby and Whumper agrees.

"Are you my cute little baby?", Whumper cooed at Whumpee as they changed their diaper, "smelly baby is more like it, geesh."

Whumpee wiggled away while Whumper cleaned up.

"Don't go too far", Whumper spoke over their shoulder.

Whumpee tried to reach up for a higher shelf. They climbed up on their feet to get a better reach.

"Whumpee no", Whumper came from behind and smacked Whumpee's butt.

Whumpee jumped from the warning and slap. They fell to the floor with a bang.

They looked up at Whumper with tears threatening to fall.

"Oh no, did baby go boom on the floor", Whumper knelt down, "did that cause an owwy?"

Whumpee's lip quivered as they nodded.

"It's okay baby", Whumper scooped them into a hug, "that's why babies shouldn't be standing up", Whumper grinned and kissed Whumpee's forehead, "let's put on your bootys."

Whumpee struggled to get away, "ymhmm", Whumpee shook their head no.

"We have to Whumpee, you know better than to say no to me", Whumper reached for the slippers, "do you want another spanking?"

Whumpee watched Whumper for a second before pointing at the item they were trying to reach.

"Does baby Whumpee want their chewy?", Whumper reached up and grabbed it.

Whumpee nodded as they watched Whumper carefully.

"Alright, come here then, let's clip it on you", Whumper held it up.

Whumpee crawled to Whumper and stopped a few steps away.

"Very cute attempt", Whumper watched them stretch as far as they could, "you need to come a little closer."

Whumpee scooted a few inches.

"You're being ridiculous. These don't hurt you unless you stand up, and you know better than to stand up", Whumper sighed, "come here before I get up and get you."

Whumpee huffed in annoyance.

"Don't huff at me", Whumper warned, "I'll give you the icky syrup if you keep being disobedient."

Whumpee quickly scooted closer... anything to not have that sludge go down their throat.

"That's what I thought", Whumper clipped the toy holder onto Whumpee's outfit, "I have a feeling my mind control is losing its edge on you", Whumper tickled Whumpee's sides playfully, "do we need to fix that?"

Whumpee quickly put the toy in their mouth and happily chewed on it.

"You're probably hungry. We'll get breakfast once these booties are on you", Whumper grinned, "is my baby grumpy because your hungry."

Whumper slipped the booty onto Whumpee's foot, and made sure the bottom sat right, they then buckled the boot and locked it.

Whumpee whined as cold metal touched their feet.

"I know Whumpee, just don't stand up. The spikes won't hurt you then", Whumper started to put the other one on.

These boots were a soft padded slipper with a belt around the ankle. They could be adjusted and locked into place . Inside the slipper, a removable insert with a few dull spikes waited for the wearer to stand up. This would cause severe pain and cause the person to fall over. It normally didn't cause bleeding though.

Whumpee rolled onto their stomach when Whumper was finished.

"Let's go get breakfast", Whumper watched Whumpee try to pull at the slipper, "nuh-uh", Whumper smacked Whumpee's hand away, "do you want me to add the mittens?"

Whumpee cowarded away and shook their head no.

"Let's go get breakfast then", Whumper sighed.

Whumpee sat in a highchair type seat in the kitchen. Whumper fed them while also eating their breakfast and packing lunch for work.

Whumpee realized the weekend was over.

"Please don't leave me", Whumpee whispered, "I-I don't want to be alone."

"Wow a baby who can speak... amazing", Whumper turned, "who gave you permission to speak."

"I-I'm sorry, I just don't want you to leave me", Whumpee looked down.

"As much as I enjoy hearing that, I do, in fact, have to go to work", Whumper frowned as they gave Whumpee another spoonful of food, "trust me, I'd rather stay here and play with you all day, but I can't. I had a feeling you were breaking out of my mind control. You've been a bit more difficult than normal this morning."

Whumpee let another tear fall.

"No need to cry, little baby, I have something fun planned for you. Considering you just talked to me, I think you already know what that means for you."

Whumpee panicked, "no master please....I-I'll be go..."

Whumper forced another spoonful of food deep into Whumpee's mouth making them choke harshly.

"Save it", Whumper grinned, "sometimes the brainwashing wears off and you lose your edge. Nothing a little coaxing won't solve."

Whumpee was strapped into a sleep sack and tied into their crib. They could only wiggle now.

"It's a shame, you normally get to play while I'm gone now you have to lay here until I get home. Don't worry though, I'll let you have plenty of screen time."

Whumper adjusted a screen directly in front of Whumpee's face. They gave it a few wiggles to make sure it didn't fall on Whumpee.

"Please, I promise I'll be good", Whumpee panicked as Whumper attached an electrode sticker onto Whumpee's neck.

"I know you will be. It's okay, you just need a little mind adjustment, it happens occasionally", Whumper grinned as they attached a wire to the sticker, "this will send a small shock every ten minutes to make sure you stay awake while I'm gone."

Whumpee whimpered, "please."

Whumper showed Whumpee a pacifier gag, and forced it into Whumpee's mouth and locked it into place.

"You'll be able to drink water through that, you have a full container of water to keep you hydrated", Whumper laughed as they turned on the screen, "I'll be checking in on you throughout today with this camera here."

The first shock stung Whumpee.

"Ymph", Whumpee jolted, "pwease."

"Enjoy the screen time", Whumper chuckled as they snapped a picture and left.

Whumpee screamed into the gag as the video started. A never ending black and white spiral took over the screen. Next an extremely annoying song played in several different volumes: extremely loud to almost quiet.

Whumpee fought against restraints. They squeezed their eyes close and wished they could cover their ears, especially knowing what was coming next.

Another shock went into their neck, making them scream again.

"Whumpee open your eyes you cute little baby", Whumper's recorded voice came on. This video was a continual loop of Whumper saying the same de-aging triggers over and over. This mixed with the hypnotic spiral and sensory overloading music would put anyone in a trance. Then, to add being shocked every ten minutes to make sure you do not fall asleep, which is both painful and torturous, Whumpee was doomed to go numb again.

They had already felt their body stop fighting. Their eyes widened as they stared at the screen.

Their mind kept yelling to move... or do something to fight for their freedom.

All fight left them. The spiral was just to beautiful and Whumper talked in such a soothing voice. They wanted their master back to see how good they were being. This song was so catchy.

"Ah, ah, ah", Whumpee tried to sing along until their eyes closed.

A shock jolted them awake again.

Drool pooled down the sides of their mouth now.

'Pretty colors', Whumpee thought to themself.

Whumper grinned as they watched Whumpee from their desk at work.

"They are long gone", Whumper chuckled, "they still have a long time to. Their brain will be like jello at the end of this."

A little before Whumper was to leave work they logged on to see Whumpee again.

Whumpee was crying uncontrollably. The overstimulation had gotten to them more than Whumper had wanted.

Whumper watched as Whumpee's back arched up in pain as another shock came through.

"Yep, you have definitely had too much now", Whumper sighed, realizing nine hours was probably too long for the mind control program to be watched.

Whumper hurried into Whumpee's room and hurried to turn the program and shock mechanism off.

Whumpee shook weakly.

"Aww, is my little baby okay?", Whumper cooed.

Whumpee sobbed as they tried to get out.

"That was scary for my baby... I'm here now. You're okay", Whumper hurried to untie Whumpee and free them from the sleepsack.

Whumpee quickly rolled to the further side of the crib and sniffled.

"It's okay baby come here, we'll get your diaper changed, and we can have a snack before dinner", Whumper tried to reach for them.

Whumpee tried to stand up.

"No Whumpee the slippers", Whumper tried to stop them.

Whumpee screamed as they fell over.

"Whumpee, it's okay, I need you to take a deep breath for me little one", Whumper tried to pull them out of the crib, "come here."

Whumpee continued to cry as Whumper finally got a good grip to pull them up.

"My poor baby", Whumper lowered themself and Whumpee to the ground, "I over did it."

Whumpee struggled for a second before finally burying their face into Whumper and crying.

"I know, it's okay. Let it all out", Whumper rubbed their back, "you've never had to go that long with that video playing. That was not a good idea for my little baby."

Whumpee quieted, but their body shook. They jolted again as though the electrode was still on them.

"Ahh, my baby", Whumper sighed, "come on let's get your diaper changed, and we can have some cookies while I make dinner. You are such a good baby."

Whumpee thought for a second before weakly nodding.

They laid quietly while Whumper changed them. No happy babbles like normal.

Even after watching the video for a while, Whumpee hadn't been this disoriented by it.

Whumper sighed, "I guess next time I'll just tie you down and regress you later. I shouldn't play with mind control so recklessly. I don't want you brain dead... not yet at least."

Whumpee watched them, but they didn't react to anything Whumper was saying. Their eyes were dull.

"Look at those lifeless eyes of yours", Whumper sighed while booping Whumpee's nose, "let's see if my little baby is in there still."

Whumpee was sat in their play pen in the living room. Some of their favorite toys were spread out for them to play with. Whumper then carried in a sippy cup of milk and a container of cookies.

Whumpee crawled to where Whumper sat the cookies and grabbed one.

"Well that's a good sign", Whumper stated in relief, "you're still food motivated."

"Hu-hu", Whumpee mumbled.

"I bet you're hungry... dinner is almost ready", Whumper smiled, "is my baby coming back?"

That evening Whumper lifted Whumpee to the couch and started to cuddle them.

"I see a little more life in your eyes now", Whumper grinned, "I bet you're sleepy though."

Whumpee rested their head on Whumper's chest.

"Aww my poor baby.... so sleepy", Whumper patted their head, "tomorrow will be a better day."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

@lumpofsand @watermeezer

@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains

@3-2-whump @risk606

@electrons2006 @paperprinxe

@whumprince @kaz-of-crows

@mis-graves @decaffeinatedtimetraveler94

@sausages-things @sunglasses-in-the-bentley

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request Gojo's s/o ignoring him and not making him sweets after he made them mad? Not in a mean way, they're grumpy but still want him to live longer so they still pack lunch for him. Just no more sweets.

Gojo opened his bento for lunch with his precious students, and frowned immediately when he saw there was no dessert in his lunch box.

For the past few days now, [Y/N] had been mad at him. He couldn’t figure out why and at this point he was too embarrassed/concerned to ask. They acted fairly normal, but the shift in their demeanor had subtly shifted. They would push his arms away when he tried to hug him. They slept on “their side of the bed” instead of in the middle with him like they always do. They hardly texted him at all through out the day other than maintenance text like ‘what do you want for dinner?’ ‘when will you be home?’ ‘pick up milk.’

The kicker though was that they weren’t packing him any treats in his lunch box. [Y/N] knew how much of a sweet tooth Gojo had. They usually thought it was cute. But the past few days he had been without homemade treats, and he had to resort to store bought vending machine snacks to get by.

Still, Gojo ate his bento in its entirety. Because despite the lack of sweets it was still very good and he wouldn’t waste it. When he got home that evening, he decided to take the bull by the horns. Gojo would have to ask what was going on and fall on his sword for an apology.

He just hoped their wasn’t a real sword involved.

“[Y/N], can you tell me what’s wrong?” Gojo asked. Just jumping right in when he came through the door and saw them doing dishes.

“What? What are you talking about?” They weren’t playing dumb. They were literally caught off guard by his question.

“I know something is up. You’ve been distant lately. Cold.” He watched as they put down the sponge with a sigh.

“I’ve been distracted.”

“Too distracted to put snacks in my bento.” Gojo muttered to himself quietly. He knew it was petty, but he needed those sweets to function. “Look, if you just…tell me what’s wrong, I’ll fix it. I’ll apologize. We’ll move on. We’ll go get ice cream.”

“I don’t want ice cream.” ‘Well not everything is about you’ He wanted to say, but was smart enough to keep his mouth shut. “You didn’t do anything. Not…technically.”

Gojo arched a brow. “What does ‘not technically’ mean?” Usually if he did something, he 100% did it and there was no question that he did it. Gojo never claimed to be the model of temperance, patience, or restraint, but he’s also never been ‘kind of in trouble’ for something.

“I’m pregnant.” That left a haymaker in his gut. “It’s why I’ve been distracted. I was trying to figure out what to do and how to tell you, and I guess I thought I was playing it cool. Sorry if you felt left out in the ‘cold’.”

Gojo rubbed his head. Oh shit, he felt bad for that now. But there was an overwhelming feeling coming up inside him. He rushed over to [Y/N] and scooped them in a hug. “Why didn’t you just tell me?!”

“Well…it’s not like we planned this. And I wasn’t sure you wanted kids.”

“What are you talking about?! I love kids!” He was the best teacher in the whole world.

“You love teenagers you only have to spend a few hours a day with.” Fair. “A baby is…different.”

“Yeah, but it’s our baby.” He told them. Leaning in to press their foreheads together.

This was a much surprise than anything he could have hoped for in his lunches. He and his beloved were going to have a baby. There was no sweeter treat than that.

[writeforfandoms]

Fear Not This Night

Find my CoD masterlist

Being part of the 141 pack meant you watched out for your boys, always. As their medic, it meant you sometimes flew into danger for them. When someone uses that knowledge against you to separate you from your pack, you pay the price.

Warnings: Blood, treating wounds, medical inaccuracies, shifter biology, shifter dynamics, psychological torture, physical torture, being blinded (hood over head), brief self-harm (pulling feathers). This one is a bit dark so if you would like more in depth warnings, come ask me.

Word count: 7.6k

Harpy eagle f!reader x 141 poly

You soared over the trees, sharp eyes watching for your team. You’d gotten the call that they needed you a few hours prior, so you knew they’d likely moved some from their last coordinates. But you doubted they’d gone far. You weren’t even tired yet, broad wings carrying you and your pack. 

Finally, you spotted Soap, in a convenient space between trees. Good man, making your life easier. You didn’t cry out in recognition, because that was dangerous. But you did dive, tucking your wings close and waiting until the last possible moment to pull up, flapping down to land on your pack. It was specially designed to be sturdy enough for you to land on, fortunately. 

“There ye are,” Soap murmured, grinning at you and reaching out one hand to stroke the top of your head. You blinked at him, chirping. “C’mon. Someone got a lucky hit on Ghost.”

You hopped off your medic pack, hopping a few steps away before you shifted. “How bad?” you asked, opening up your pack and throwing on clothes. For the chill more than for modesty. 

You had no modesty around your boys anymore. 

“Price wants ye to check, because Ghost is bein’ an ass.” 

“I heard that,” came the grumpy growl from Ghost. 

You rolled your eyes and picked up your pack, which looked more like a picnic basket when you carried it this way. “If you’re alive enough to growl, you’re alive enough to behave,” you pointed out. He still had his mask on, but he wasn’t arguing lying down, either. Hmm. Must be feeling worse than you thought. 

You settled on your knees next to Ghost, giving him a quick once-over. Bandages had been packed down against his thigh, though you ignored them for the moment. Nothing else looked out of place. 

“Anywhere hurting besides the thigh?” 

“Took a round to the vest,” he admitted, a little reluctant and a lot grumpy. Probably mostly grumpy that he got hit. 

“Just bruised,” Gaz said as he crouched a little to the side of you and behind you, out of the way but ready to assist. “Didn’t even crack a rib.” 

“Lucky bastard,” you agreed, shifting your attention down to his thigh. “And this?” 

“A graze,” Gaz said. “But it bled a lot, more than normal.”

You hummed acknowledgement, leaning closer. Ghost shifted, and you cooed softly, almost reflexively. He huffed but settled. 

The wound wasn’t bad under the bandages, but it was in a tricky spot, just above his knee. You couldn’t see any real reason why it would have bled more than normal except use, which was kind of inevitable. But even so, just to be on the safe side, you smeared it with ointment and rewrapped it. 

“How far do you have to go?” You packed up the rest of your supplies after forcing Ghost to drink more water. 

“Little ways yet.” Price shrugged, planting his hands on his hips. 

“I’m fine to keep going,” Ghost said, because of course he did.

“You finish your water,” you said, poking his hip. “Then we’ll see.” 

He huffed, eyes narrowing at you. But he subsided. Mostly because you both knew Price would side with you. 

“If you left now?” You raised one eyebrow at Price.

“We’d make it by dawn.” 

You puffed out a breath. That was not too bad. Ghost was tough, you knew he could last that long, especially since he’d already been forced to rest (and probably to eat something, knowing the rest of the pack). “I’ll scout ahead,” you said, pushing up to your feet. “Circle back and follow behind, make sure you’re fine.” 

“I’ve got your pack,” Gaz offered before you could say anything more. You rolled your eyes at him but didn’t protest. You knew better. 

You also knew better than to shift again without eating something, so you ripped open a protein bar and ate it as fast as possible under Price’s approving eye. Tossing your clothes back at Gaz and grinning at his playful huff, you shifted back and took off again. 

The route forward to their exfil point was clear and quiet, even to your keen gaze. Turning to circle back, you made sure to check back in on your guys as you flew above them. 

No enemies behind, either. They’d done a good job of either killing everyone who’d tried to follow, or losing them. You expected nothing less from them. 

Pleased, you made a few big circles just to be sure. Still nothing. No sign of enemies. You took your time following your pack to the exfil point. 

True to Price’s prediction, just as the sun broke the horizon the pack made it to exfil. You dove down to join them, landing next to Ghost. Gaz tossed your clothes to you as soon as you shifted, and Ghost shoved water at you.

“You all are mother hens, y’know that?” you grumbled without any heat, grinning, even as you double-checked Gaz’s straps. 

“Says the biggest hen of us,” Soap pointed out with a wicked grin.

“Now now, just because my tits are the best–” you started playfully. 

“Enough,” Price interrupted, sitting on Gaz’s other side, between him and the opening. Smart man. 

You and Soap subsided, though you did both roll your eyes. “Everybody good?” You looked around at them, meeting each gaze squarely for a moment, to make sure none of them were lying. They all tolerated it, well used to you by now. Satisfied that none of your guys were about to keel over, you settled back for the trip back. 

Flying in a heli had never been your favorite thing to do. You much preferred to fly on your own. But you had to admit that the heli was faster - you’d tried once to keep up, and couldn’t. Which wasn’t actually surprising, just disappointing. 

This flight was not bad. Not too long. Which was good, because you were getting antsy. Ghost had caught a nap on the heli, but you still wanted to make sure he was fine in better conditions than you’d had before. 

As soon as the heli landed, you were out, watching Ghost carefully. He wouldn’t accept help, not in front of others, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t check in. 

“‘M fine,” he grumbled at you very quietly as you fell into step next to him. 

“I’m sure you are,” you agreed. “And I’ll be more sure after I get to look you over.”

Soap leaned closer, waggling his eyebrows. But he didn’t say anything, because he couldn’t. Not here. Not where people could overhear and get the wrong idea. 

Simon was fine, as it turned out when you finally got him to medical. Heightened metabolisms were good for some things, after all, and that included faster healing. 

But you still bullied all your guys into the nest to take a nap. 

“Stop fussing,” Price grumbled, lifting his head to pin you with a look. “And get in here.”

“It is literally my job to fuss,” you grumbled right back, although you did stop messing with the pillows and observed the nest. There was a good spot next to Simon. You carefully stepped over Gaz and Price before you settled down with a soft chirp, nestled between Simon and Price. There. That was better. 

Price’s soft huff made you grin to yourself. At least until Simon tucked you under his arm and started scratching your scalp. Then you relaxed into him.

Okay. Maybe you could take a nap too. 

One good thing about having pack-only spaces was that you could be with your guys without fear. 

Simon had been ordered to stay and rest and finish healing while the other three went on what was supposed to be a quick mission. A day or two all told, is how Price had phrased it. You didn't know the details, didn't need to know the details, but you did know that Simon hated this. 

"Relax," you murmured to him soothingly, scratching your fingers against his scalp. "They'll be back soon." 

He grumbled wordlessly, one hand curling against your thigh where he was also using it as a pillow. 

"Easy, Simon," you murmured, low and soothing. The little bit of grooming helped both of you, you knew. And it was almost all you could do for the moment. 

Until you got called to help with exfil. 

You hated leaving Simon, knew he'd be all but climbing the walls in his anxiety, but… needs must. He understood. 

This time you went without your med pack - supplies would be available after exfil. 

You weren't even sure Price had called for you. But the order came from higher up, so off you went to go help. 

From high in the air, the battlefield looked bad. You could see bodies still laying where they'd fallen, a visual indication of the path of retreat. It took a little time to find your guys, the three of them huddled together behind a half-burned building. There were no immediate threats, but you could see where enemies had set up to hinder them. 

It was not an easy situation, nor an easy fix. You flapped your wings a few times, changing your trajectory. 

You needed to give them a distraction, a chance to get out. Most people didn't look up - you could use that, get a good sneak attack or two in. Cause a little chaos in the line. 

It would do for now, until you came up with a better plan. 

You flew a little higher, using the angle of the sun to help disguise your descent. And then you dove, aiming for one soldier a little apart from the others. He never saw you coming. 

But he screamed as your talons ripped through the vulnerable skin of his scalp and neck. 

You flapped hard, leaving him to bleed out even as shouts started up around you. You managed to vanish into the sun, flying up high again. You'd be harder to hit that way. 

Of course, now they were on alert. Damn. That hadn't quite been enough of a distraction for your guys to get away. 

You needed something bigger. 

Scanning the ground, you looked for something out of the way to pick up and drop on the enemy line. 

It was a good plan, and it even worked. 

Until you were flying away. Someone must have been watching, because there was a sharp pain in your wing, enough to make you screech. Your wing faltered and you fell, just able to slow yourself enough that you didn't injure yourself further. 

You hit the ground in a flurry of blood and feathers and screeching. Your wing hurt, leaving you unable to fly. 

Behind enemy lines. 

The first man to lunge at you got your beak to his throat, blood hot as it splashed across your face and chest. Maybe you'd have time to get to safety, maybe you could shift and–

Something heavy fell over your head, completely blocking your vision. You screeched, loud and angry, but more heavy things landed on top of you. Something held your wings firmly down against your sides, the pain sharp enough to make you try to jerk away. But you couldn't, too many hands grabbing you and securing you. 

Blind and trapped, you could only feel as you were picked up and moved. 

But you weren't dead yet, which was terrifying. 

People handed you off between them, and you tried to flap your wings or flex your claws or anything. But movement of any kind resulted in you being squeezed to the point of pain. 

With no way to see where you were or how many of them there were, you gave up. Conserved your strength, so you'd have a better chance of escape once you could see again. 

An engine rumbled to life, and you got squished in against a body. 

"Try anything funny and I will break your wing," a man hissed to you in heavily-accented English. You didn't doubt that he, or someone, would. 

So you behaved, because you wouldn't be able to escape if you had a broken wing. You listened to the occasional chatter in Arabic. You tried very hard not to panic. 

Sooner than you expected, the car stopped and you were once again handed off. The thing never came off your head, never let you see anything. 

But you could hear more people, orders shouted in Arabic, more movement. 

Oh this was bad. 

Someone carried you somewhere cooler. More movement around you, and for a brief moment you could see as the heavy thing over your head was yanked off - you could see two men in front of you, one of them grinning to show off two empty spaces where teeth should be. 

Then darkness again as a hood was secured over your head. You'd never been put in a falconry hood, but you knew immediately that's what it was, just from the feel of the leather and ties around your head. You screeched, trying to flap your wings. 

"Enough of that," a sharp voice scolded. You nearly startled to realize it sounded like a woman. There was another flurry of Arabic, orders it sounded like, and then hands grasped your right wing, the one with the bullet hole. Big hands held you in place, wing extended, other wing pinned to your side. 

You had no idea what they were doing until you heard the snip, snip, snip. You screeched, enraged and despairing and agonized. But they didn't stop, and there was nothing you could do. 

"There." The woman sounded far too smug, too pleased. "Now you can be my bird." She laughed, low and throaty and sadistic. 

You shivered, tucking your wings in as tight as you could, shifting restlessly from foot to foot. Bells jingled as you moved and you froze in horror.

Hood and jesses. They were treating you like a falconry bird. 

If you could, you might have thrown up. As it was, you made a tiny distressed noise. 

A door shut somewhere nearby, leaving you with the terrible feeling that you were alone. 

You tried to pace off the room, but the fucking bells kept breaking your concentration. You could stretch your wings, at least, though the right one hurt. And the way the air moved around your wing was… wrong. 

That was all the confirmation you needed, even as you pulled your wings in tight again and huddled in place, shivering. They’d clipped your primaries. 

Even if the hood was gone, you wouldn’t be able to fly. 

You had no idea how long you stood there, alone in the forced darkness. Time was meaningless as you mentally went in circles. Simon knew you’d gone. There was a chance the other three had seen you or heard the commotion. People knew you were gone. 

Someone would come for you.

Or you’d be killed first. 

But you didn’t want to die, your pack needed you, you couldn’t leave them, they’d never forgive themselves if you died here–

The door opened hard enough that it slammed into the wall, and you jumped, wings flaring in agitation. 

“There’s my pretty bird,” the woman from before cooed, over-sweet and mocking. “Hungry yet?” Her steps were deliberately loud as she approached you. You stiffened, holding yourself tense, but didn’t move. “Now, are you going to cooperate? Be a good bird?” 

You didn’t reply, but you figured that lack of fighting would be a response. Because you had no idea where you were, and you held almost no power here. You knew that if you got too uppity, they’d make your life worse. Probably not kill you - they’d had plenty of opportunity to do that, and hadn’t yet. 

But you could think of plenty of things they could do to make things worse for you.

The hood was pulled off your head, and you blinked rapidly as you adjusted to the light. The room had no windows and only one door. The artificial light washed everything yellow. 

And, most importantly, left you no way to know how long it had been, how long you’d been gone. 

The woman in front of you wore khaki and brown, simple clothes that were more functional than fashionable. Brown eyes held yours, a smirk slowly stretching her lips when you refused to look away first. But she didn’t seem to care about a dominance game. She just stepped further into the room, setting down two bowls for you. 

Like you were a pet. 

Your stomach turned and you stayed very still, head tipped, watching her closely. 

“Well? Go on. Eat while you can.” Her grin had stretched into a cruel thing, showing too many teeth. 

You shuffle-hopped forward, the bells on the jesses setting off every nerve you had. You hated this. Hated her. But this wouldn’t be forever, you knew it wouldn’t. You needed to eat, needed the fuel to heal and save up for your escape (as soon as you had a decent plan). 

So, much as it grated on you, you ate from the bowl, keeping your gaze on her as much as you could. It felt demeaning, dehumanizing. 

You felt like some exotic pet. The feeling made your blood boil, made you seethe. But you were careful to do so very quietly, only to yourself. 

“Good bird,” she cooed mockingly. “We shall see how long it takes to train you.” 

Before you could do more than flare your wings in protest, the hood was shoved back on your head, plunging you into darkness once more. You flapped your wings twice, momentarily off-balance. 

The door shut. A lock clicked.

And you were alone again, in darkness and silence. 

It was impossible to track how much time had passed. You could hear only occasional muffled sounds beyond your room, had no way to mark the passage of time. 

The only breaks from the darkness were for food, always far enough apart that you were hungry, always the woman and one underling. Always demeaning. Always difficult. 

You suffered through five meals. Five meals. Each one worse than the last, with more taunting, more mocking. It was harder every time to not just leap at her and rip into her. 

But you remained patient, somehow. 

The muffled sound of gunfire drew your attention, and you moved back and forth restlessly. It was hard not to get your hopes up, after however many days of being stuck here. 

When the gunfire got louder and you heard the muffled shouts outside your door, satisfaction surged. That was probably your pack, coming for you.

And if it wasn’t, well… There was more than one way out of here. 

You waited for a lull in the fighting, in the shouting and gunshots and chaos. And then you screeched, as loud as you could. 

There. If that was your pack, they’d know it was you. If it was anybody else… You’d deal with that when you could. 

The fighting and gunfire got closer, and you backed up slowly, carefully. The jingling of the fucking jesses still grated, but it was easier to ignore with the fighting outside. 

There were two shots outside, two thuds. Your heart beat faster and you half-spread your wings, talons clicking against the floor. 

“Found her,” came Soap’s voice from the door, and the breath whooshed out of you all at once. “Fuck,” he ground out, as angry as you’d ever heard him. “Okay, ‘s just me, sweets. Ah’m gonna take this off, yeah?” Hands fumbled with the hood for a moment before it was gone, leaving you blinking and near-blinded by the sudden brightness. 

And there was Soap, clothes a little bloodied, expression torn between rage and sympathy. He spared a moment to smooth a hand over your head. 

“Can ye shift?” 

You clicked your beak and awkwardly held out one leg, jingling the jess still attached. 

His expression immediately darkened. “Ah’ll burn the whole place,” he swore, rapidly removing one jess, then the other. 

Relieved, you immediately shifted back. Your arm ached where the bullet hole had mostly healed, and you knew you probably looked a wreck. You felt a wreck, a little shaky and unsteady. But you were also determined to get the hell out. 

“Give me a gun,” you rasped, throat dry. 

“Ah donnae have supplies for ye,” Soap murmured apologetically, even as he unclipped his handgun and handed it to you. “Keep close.” 

You nodded silently, pushing down everything else. You’d deal with everything else later. 

Warm wetness on your feet made you look down as you followed Soap out of the room that had been your prison for however long. Two guards, both dead. Clean shots. Blood had pooled in the hallway. Your upper lip curled and you stepped carefully through the hall, not wanting to slip on anything. 

Soap motioned you to wait as you came up to a corner, and he peeked around first. A gunshot had him jerking back. 

“Counted eight,” he murmured to you. “Wait here.”

“But–” Your shoulders raised, and if you’d had feathers they would have been floofing out.

“Ye have no vest, no protection,” Soap pointed out, soft but firm. “Jus’ got ye back, sweets. Donnae ask me this.” 

And you deflated again. As much as you wanted to kill every bastard in the building yourself, he had a good point. “Okay,” you agreed quietly, grip tightening briefly on your gun. “I’ll wait.”

Soap pressed a quick, hard kiss to your temple before he was gone, picking off one before he even rounded the corner. You could do nothing but listen to the chaos and wait for the all clear to move up.

A scuff behind you had you whirling, gun up. The woman stood no more than ten paces away, teeth bared, a gun in her hand. 

“Well well, is this what pretty birdie looks like when she’s not a birdie?” She laughed, the sound unhinged, divorced from reality. “What a waste.” 

“Don’t move.” Your voice didn’t shake. Your hands didn’t shake. But your mind… your mind quailed. 

“What’s the matter, birdie? Missing your hood?” Her teeth were bloody, eyes fixed on you as she took a step closer. 

You swallowed hard, breath coming faster. If you never saw a hood again it would be too soon. 

“We can fix that.” She took another step forward, lifting the gun slowly, as if it was much heavier than it actually was. 

You didn’t hesitate. You didn’t blink. You shot her, center mass. 

She fell. 

“Sweets?” Soap sounded only a little panicky. 

“Clear!” You swallowed. Then again. You were a medic, yes, but this was far from the first time you’d killed. You’d hoped this would bring a little peace.

Instead you were simply numb.

“Move up!” Soap called after another minute. You obeyed wordlessly, turning your back on the corpse without another thought. 

“How far?” you asked softly, stopping behind him, letting him be your shield again. 

“Not much farther.” He glanced back at you, worried. “Ye alright?” 

“Fine.” Your answer was short, clipped. Because you couldn’t think about being anything other than fine. “Let’s go.” 

Soap hesitated a moment longer, gaze searching your face, before he nodded once, slowly. Then he moved, keeping you behind him. You kept close to him, moving as quietly as possible, ignoring the tackiness of blood drying on your skin. 

He had you wait as he cleared one more room, and then the two of you met up with Gaz. Gaz breathed in sharply when he saw you but was quick to tug you to him in a hard hug, the edges of his vest and gear blunt and uncomfortable against your skin. You didn’t care, returning the hug with an edge of desperation. 

“Here,” Gaz murmured, pulling spare clothes from one of his pouches. “Couldn’t bring extra gear for you, but this’ll do for now.” 

You nodded, pulling the clothes on silently. They didn’t actually help you feel any better, but being with two of your pack did. 

“Price and Ghost are almost done,” Gaz told Soap, tucking you between the two so you were protected. “Ready to meet up?”

“Ready.” Soap grinned, brief and vicious. “Ye’ll like this,” he promised you, taking the lead. You followed him, Gaz on your six. The building was quiet now, tension thrumming under your skin. But you kept up, swallowing back your nerves as best you could. 

“All set up?” Soap asked as he stepped into a room. You followed, a little more cautious. 

“All set,” Price agreed, eyes immediately finding you. A bit of tension leaked from his shoulders and he smiled, just a little. “Ready to get out of here?” 

You nodded silently, but didn’t say anything. Which didn’t matter, because Ghost was in front of you in a few long strides, one hand gently cupping your cheek to tip your head. 

“Injuries?” he asked softly, gaze sweeping over you.

“Just my arm.” And your feathers, but you couldn’t think about that for longer than a moment or you’d start screaming. 

Ghost nodded, pulling you into his side. 

“Let’s go,” Price ordered, taking point. The others kept you in the middle between them all the way out. 

At a safe distance, the group of you turned. Soap waggled his eyebrows at you, grinning, before he pushed down on a detonator. 

The entire building collapsed, shaking apart as explosions ripped through it. It was incredibly cathartic to see. Or, well. It probably was. You were… kind of numb. 

“Here.” 

You blinked slowly to find Price holding out a water to you. Your hands trembled as you took it, drinking slowly under the watchful gaze of your pack. 

“It’s not far to exfil,” Gaz murmured, one hand resting on your shoulder. You leaned into the touch, breath momentarily hitching. 

“Okay.” You swallowed hard and took the protein bar Price handed over, eating mechanically. You could barely taste it. 

You knew this was bad, but. Not much to be done about it yet. 

“You alright to walk the rest of the way?” Price asked, glancing down at your feet. 

You blinked. You… couldn’t actually feel any discomfort from your feet, though you knew you should. You were standing barefoot on the ground, and it wasn’t even flat ground. “I’m fine.” 

Price eyed you for a moment before he nodded. “Let’s get out of here, then,” he murmured. Contrary to his own words, he leaned in until he could press his forehead to yours, taking a moment to just breathe. Then he pulled back, once again taking point. 

You followed, a little slow but moving under your own power. At least you weren’t in pain. 

Yet. 

The heli was waiting for you when you arrived. You shivered briefly against the wind and hurried in, buckling in with shaking hands. Soap dropped down on one side of you, Gaz on your other side. They both double checked your harness. 

The flight back didn’t seem to take any time. You sat upright, tired and numb and cold, but unable to show any of that. You would eventually, you knew. You should probably warn your guys, you knew.

But you couldn’t. 

The heli set down with a bump and you jolted. Two pairs of hands steadied you, Gaz and Soap both looking at you with concern. 

But nobody said anything as they escorted you to medical. 

You answered anything directly asked of you, quiet and stiff. The bullet hole in your arm was deemed mostly healed (it should have been more healed, really, but you hadn’t eaten enough), and otherwise you were dehydrated and bruised, but mostly unharmed. 

The problem arose when one of the medics asked you to shift. 

“No.” The word was only a whisper but you leaned away, hands curling into fists, muscles pulling taut. 

The medic paused, eyeing you carefully. You were known to be more easy-going and cooperative, so this? Was unusual. “If you need privacy–”

“No.” It came out a little stronger this time, even as your gaze darted to the door, heart racing. No. Absolutely not. 

The medic slowly leaned back, away from you. But their voice was calm as they called, “Captain?” 

Price was in front of you a moment later, taking in your posture in a quick glance. He put one heavy hand on your shoulder, ducking his head to look you in the eyes for a moment. “Easy,” he murmured, frowning a little. “You done here?” He glanced back over his shoulder at the medic. 

“She hasn’t shifted yet, so we’re not technically done,” the medic explained. 

Price glanced down at you, and you shook your head, jaw clenched so tight your teeth ached. “Another time,” Price grunted, gently tugging you off the exam table. 

The medic sighed, exasperated but unwilling to fight. “Fine. Make sure she sleeps,” they ordered, moving out of the way. “And eats.”

Price nodded, letting his hand fall from your shoulder. You tried not to focus on that, tried to focus on following him instead. But it was hard. The touch had been grounding, helpful. Helping to pull you back into yourself. 

“You should get cleaned up,” Price murmured, heading back towards your quarters. “It’ll help.”

“Yeah.” You couldn’t manage more than that, couldn’t force more out. The numbness was slowly fading, leaving you aching. And tired. So very tired. 

Price paused outside your door, studying you. “Do you want someone here?” 

You swallowed and forced yourself to nod. You didn’t want to be alone. But you didn’t want anyone looking at you just yet, either. 

Price nodded slowly, brow furrowing a little. “I’ll stay,” he rumbled, pushing your door open and ushering you through first. “Get cleaned up, dress down for the evening.” 

You nodded wordlessly, slipping past him and grabbing comfortable clothes. You had a bathroom to yourself, something you were extremely grateful for, and you shut the door between yourself and your alpha. And then immediately opened it a crack, because you felt too trapped otherwise. 

Hot water felt heavenly, after everything. Getting to scrub your head felt heavenly. Everything else… Well. You definitely overdid it washing yourself, scratching your skin nearly raw in places. You did make yourself bleed again, accidentally breaking open the wound in your arm. 

But you finally felt clean enough for the moment and emerged, drying off and wrapping your head in a towel. That would do. 

Price was still sitting on your bed when you emerged, phone in hand, though he turned his gaze to you as soon as the door opened. His gaze lingered on your skin, and you knew he was making note of everything. But he didn’t comment. 

“Figured we’d go to the pack room,” he said, carefully phrasing it as an option, rather than an order. “Got Gaz and Soap bringing food.”

You nodded. “Food sounds good,” you admitted, walking over to him. You didn’t ask, just plastered yourself to his front, cheek pressed to his chest, inhaling the comforting scent of your alpha. Price hummed softly, one hand cupping the back of your head, his other settling on your back. 

“Take as long as you need,” he murmured, low and soothing. “We’ll walk together, hm?” 

“Yeah.” You closed your eyes, relaxing into his warmth. Just a minute. You just needed a minute. Price only held you tighter. 

You finally pulled back with one last deep breath. “Okay,” you croaked. “Let’s go.” 

Price didn’t object, but he did keep you close as the two of you walked to the pack room. Almost nobody was around, which worked out well, because you were starting to use your captain for help staying upright. 

No sooner had you stepped into the pack room than you got swarmed. Somehow, you weren’t exactly sure how, they settled you on the couch pressed up against Simon, with Gaz and Soap chattering as they made up plates of food, and Price hovering behind you and Simon. 

“Don’t ask,” you murmured to Simon, fairly sure Price could hear too. “Not yet.”

Simon hummed softly, carefully bundling you even closer to his side. “Not yet,” he agreed, about as soft as he ever got. 

Gaz and Soap carried the conversation through dinner, both of them settling around you as well until you were entirely enclosed by pack. It should have made you feel better.

It didn’t. 

All you could think of were the past eight days. Eight, you discovered when Soap let it slip. Eight days you’d been stuck in that hood and silence but for the jesses, treated like an animal.

It was almost enough to make you sick. 

You swallowed down what you could, but ended up leaving food. It was odd - you would have thought you’d be ravenous, after the last days. But you weren’t. You were barely hungry, only ate to try to stave off their concern. 

Which didn’t entirely work, from the quick looks and little touches you endured through the evening. 

And then you just… settled. Let one of them take your plate when it was obvious you weren’t going to eat more, and relaxed. Simon stayed on one side of you, refusing to move. You leaned more and more into him as your eyes tried to shut, until he simply pulled you in to use his chest as a pillow. You murmured something, half complaint half thanks, and closed your eyes, the soothing sounds of your pack settling around you. 

You woke to total darkness.

For a moment you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. If you moved you’d hear those damn bells, and there was no point because you couldn’t get anywhere, you were trapped, and your wings– your wings–

“Hey, hey, s’alright love,” Simon murmured urgently, hands patting at you. Which was when you realized you were keening, breath hitching in your chest. You still couldn’t see but you could feel your pack moving around you.

“Get the lights,” Price ordered. “Simon?” 

“Not sure.” Simon put one hand over your chest. “You need to breathe.” It wasn’t until he put your hand against his chest, letting you feel the exaggerated inflation of his lungs that you realized he was talking to you.

The lights flipped on, bright and sudden, and you went limp. You were fine. You were in the pack room. You didn’t have a hood on. 

“Love?” Simon leaned closer to you, eyes dark and worried. 

“‘M okay,” you gasped, blinking a few times, finally settling back into reality. “Just. A minute.” 

Simon didn’t move, just breathing in again. You did your best to follow along, nerves still strung taut from waking the way you did. Soap pressed up close to your side, his head resting near your hip. Your fingers curled gently in his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp to help calm yourself. Based on his pleased hum, that’s what he’d wanted in the first place. 

“Better?” Price moved carefully closer, doing a quick visual check.

“Yeah.” You licked your lips, very aware of your dry throat now. “Just.” You clenched your jaw. Admitting weakness was never easy, and this was no different. “Couldn’t see.” 

Soap lifted his head to look at you. “Sweets,” he started, carefully, like he was feeling for land mines. “Did they keep the hood on ye?” 

You swallowed hard. “Except for when they brought me food.” 

“Hood?” Gaz asked, handing over a bottle of water to you, expression mostly blank. 

“And jesses,” you confirmed before taking a deep drink of water. 

“We’ll make sure there’s a light on for you,” Price said, before anyone else could say anything. Which was honestly for the best - you didn’t think you could talk any more about what had happened just yet. 

“You should go back to sleep,” you murmured, setting the water bottle down and scratching Soap’s scalp again. “Too early to be up.” 

“Hm.” Price tipped his head, looking at you. Then he huffed softly. “Stubborn.” 

You only had time to blink before he was settling back in with the rest of you, getting comfortable. The nest was big enough for all of you, because you’d made sure of that, but still. 

You didn’t think anyone would manage to get back to sleep, especially with the light on. But they surprised you - Gaz snored gently against Price’s ribs, while Soap used your hip as a pillow. (He always made the oddest choices.) Price didn’t sleep, but he did close his eyes and relax. 

Simon just kept you close, his steady breathing helping your own. 

Your pack didn’t quite hover the next few days. They did, however, take rotating shifts making sure someone stayed with you. Simon nudged you into the pack room every night. Gaz had pulled up a nightlight from somewhere, the soft yellow light always left on now. They didn’t let you feel ashamed of it, either, though shame still tried to wiggle into your brain. 

Things weren’t okay. Wouldn’t be okay for a while. But they were getting better. 

Except for your wings. 

You managed not to think about it most of the time, focused on staying human and getting through the worst of the aftereffects. Sure, it wasn’t conventional torture, but it was almost worse. 

Things finally came to a head when the rest of the pack shifted, Gaz and Soap racing outside immediately, growling playfully at each other. Ghost followed, more placid, looking at you once over his shoulder. 

Price stopped in front of you, the bear easily able to meet your gaze. You knew that if he stood up straight on his hind legs, he’d be much taller than you. 

“No.” Your smile was small and tight, pained. “You go. I’m not shifting.” 

His head tipped, fuzzy little ears flickering back towards the open door and back to you. He grunted softly and nosed your ribs gently. 

“Okay,” you agreed. “I’ll come out for a bit.” 

Satisfied, he huffed and went first, lumbering out the door. You followed him, briefly squinting against the light before you adjusted. 

Gaz and Soap raced across the open space, occasionally trying to trip each other or jump over each other. Soap even got bold enough to bite Ghost’s tail and run for it, angry cat hot on his tail and gaining fast. Price found a nice sunny spot to watch and make sure they didn’t actually go overboard. 

Pretty normal. Except for you. You stood stiff and still, watching them and making no effort to join. It was… too much. It wasn’t their fault, or yours. The only people responsible were dead. 

None of them looked when you slipped back inside, as quietly as you could. You had one more thing you needed to do, and you needed some privacy to do it. 

Your room was far enough from them that you didn’t worry about being found immediately. You carefully took off your clothes, folding them on your bed. One deep breath. Two. 

You could do this. Hell, you’d been doing this since you were a child. Nothing would stop you now.

You shifted between breaths, braced for… something. But nothing happened. You didn’t immediately panic.

Okay. So far so good. 

You spread your wings carefully, flapping them a few times. You could just see your reflection in the mirror. Your beak was just as sharp, your crest still upright. Bits of downy feathers stuck up from a lack of preening, but you ignored the vague feeling of wrongness. You had something more important to fix. 

Your primaries had all been cut on your right wing. Not just some of them. All of them. It would take months for them to molt on their own. Months of being grounded, being flightless, being useless. 

The soft, mournful sound ripped free from your throat, and you flapped again. You could hop, maybe get a bit of air. But you couldn’t fly, not like this.

Unless…

No. No, that was a terrible idea.

Except that it wasn’t, really, a terrible idea. The longer you stood there, head tipped, staring at your clipped feathers in the mirror, the more sense it made. 

One last deep breath in and you dipped your head, tipping your wing to make it easier. It took a little shuffling and a little preening to get the right feather in your beak. 

The first one came out cleanly, a few drips of blood accompanying it. You dropped the shaft to the floor, not giving yourself time to really feel the pain. You just did it again. And again. And again. 

Until the floor was littered with blood and snipped feathers, the red stark on the black and white banded feathers. Your wing burned and ached, throbbing in time with your heart, and your chest heaved with your panting, beak open. You felt almost dizzy with it, mind gone blank. 

“Sweets?” The panicked yell made you blink and cheep softly, though you didn’t move yet. Your door was unlocked. “Sweets, I smell blood.” Gaz hit the door a moment later, nearly tumbling inside when the door opened easily. He froze when he spotted you, anguish twisting his features. “Oh, Sweets, what did you do?” 

You chirped at him, turning carefully, keeping your right wing flared. 

Gaz knelt in front of you, ducking down to examine where you’d pulled out your feathers. “Doesn’t look like you’re still bleeding,” he murmured, almost absently preening your feathers. “But why–?” 

You chirped at him and picked up one of the feathers by the shaft, showing him the cut end. 

“Cut?” He frowned, gaze darting between you and the small pile of feathers, before realization hit. He swallowed hard, rage like a dark thundercloud. “But why pull them?”

You chirped softly, dropping the feather and hopping closer to him. You were not designed for flat floors, dammit, you were designed for trees! 

“Do you wanna shift?” Gaz asked, frowning a little at you.

You shook yourself. Now that you’d shifted, you actually felt a little better. Still kind of awful, because you couldn’t fly, but you didn’t feel quite as raw. 

He huffed. “Course not,” he agreed with a wry smile. “Can I help you preen?” 

You chirped softly again, ducking your head under his hand. He took it as permission, which it was, and began combing through your feathers gently. 

“Gonna have to talk to one of us eventually,” he murmured, hands gentle over your injured wing. “Can’t put it off forever.”

You clicked your beak at him and stretched, gently preening his hair. He huffed but allowed it, muttering something about you being a menace. 

Gaz ended up letting you perch on his arm as he walked back to the pack room. Price huffed at your wing, gently pulling it to get a better look. 

“Did you do this or did they?” His voice was calm, but you knew your alpha. He was not calm. 

You chirped softly, looking to Gaz to answer for you.

“She pulled ‘em, but they were clipped.” 

“Ah.” Price blew out a breath, fingers gentle as he checked your secondaries. “Force ‘em to come in sooner?”

You chirped a soft affirmative. 

“Gonna need to eat more, then.” The look he gave you told you this was not an argument you would win. So you didn’t fight. 

You let them take care of you and fuss (not too much), and you just worked on being better. 

It took time, but the worst of the nightmares faded. Pitch black still bothered you but it was manageable, rather than panic attack inducing every time. 

Things got better. 

Your feathers still hadn’t come in yet, but you could be patient a little while longer. You could feel the itch where they were forming and growing. Good enough. 

Your first op was supposed to be an easy one. Well. As easy as anything the 141 took on. 

You, Price, and Gaz were clearing one building while Soap and Ghost cleared another. It was… not easy, but routine. 

Until you stumbled over one man Gaz missed. 

The man was in the back of the room, laying low. You probably wouldn’t have spotted him except a bit of light fell right on a very familiar feather. The black and white banding could, hypothetically, have been from any number of birds. 

But you knew. 

An angry snarl twisted your lips, and you stepped intentionally into the room, barely remembering to call to Price over your shoulder, gaze locked on your target. Your gun was steady on him. 

He watched you right back, one hand reaching for a weapon from a fallen comrade in a way he probably thought was stealthy. 

The bullet you planted between him and the weapon disabused him of that notion. 

“Where did you get that feather?” you asked, voice low and growly. If you weren’t so focused, it would have startled you to hear how furious you sounded. 

He looked up at you and grinned, front two teeth missing. You jerked back, body recalling more vividly than your mind the sudden darkness that had followed that grin. 

“Easy,” Price murmured from behind you, just to the side. Close enough to support you and take the shot if you needed, but giving you space to do it yourself. 

You breathed in deep. And shot him. For many reasons, including not leaving an enemy alive at your back. 

But bending down to pull your feather from his shirt was just for you. 

“You broken?” Price watched you, giving you space still. Letting you decide.

You tucked the feather in your vest and smiled. “Not today.” You nudged him, tipping your head to rest against his shoulder for just a moment, before you started walking again. “If we finish up before Soap, he promised he’d buy cookies.” 

Price’s chuckle followed you out of the room. Gaz called over comms that the building was clear, and Soap started swearing. He and Gaz went back and forth on the matter of the cookies, easy bickering in the middle of everything else. 

You just laughed, knowing your pack had you. Always. 

[spencer-sweets]

House MD Fic Recs | House/Wilson

[Part 1] [Part 2]

so... my first foray into this fandom after passively watching clips of it on youtube growing up. finally got around to watching it even though i have spoiled myself with all of the fan content i consumed before even finishing season 1. this is just some of my favorite fics i have compiled here. :) hope yall feel old knowing this show is older than me - and i can vote.

I'd Make A Deal With God (I'd Get Him to Swap Our Places) by TheFandomLesbian (ao3) Teen+ 11,357 Summary: When Wilson receives his terminal diagnosis, House flees to the hospital chapel. He doesn't know how to pray, but he strikes a deal: his soul for Wilson's life. When Wilson goes into remission, he has no choice but to uphold his end of the bargain. In which House learns nothing about God, but everything about worship, in the arms of his husband.

as someone who has a very complicated relationship with religion, this fic warmed my heart. the devotion from house in this fic to be able to put aside his own feelings towards religion in the small chance that he really does owe wilson's life to a higher power blew me away.

Riddle Me by magie_05 (LJ) R (I would say Teen+) 12,300 House loves puzzles. Wilson…doesn’t. When House starts asking his friend seemingly pointless questions that get progressively more confusing, Wilson’s left to wonder what (if anything) it means.

i loved the way they communicated in this fic and it was fun to try to figure out the riddles with wilson

fifteen minutes by eating_custardinbed (ao3) Mature 11,907 When James Wilson came to work this morning, he was expecting a normal day. That is, he has been expecting to tell a few people they were dying, getting bullied into buying his grumpy best friend lunch, maybe flirting with the new nurse in radiology to make him feel just a little better about his third divorce. What he has not been expecting is to be locked in his office with a madman, staring down the barrel of a gun. or, wilson gets shot and locked in his office. he and house have a conversation

oh, my beloved trope of one character thinking the other is about to die but not wanting to show how scared they are. hurt/comfort and wilson is hurt - right up my alley.

Defensive Strategies by m_butterfly (Wayback) NC-17 (Explicit) 14398 In which Wilson has a problem, House has a cunning plan, girls hunt in packs, chocolate cake has unexpected dangers, furniture is unintentionally ordered, several conversations occur, and dinner is repeatedly served.

this was a cute getting together fic that was funny and heavily recommended back in the say - at least from my sleuthing.

House-opathy Series: Diagnosis: Wilson, Patient Write Up: Cameron, Chase Foreman, Treatment: House by Commodoresexual (LJ) PG13 (Teen+) 14498 Wilson gets more than he bargained for when he lets the ducklings diagnose him - Cameron, Chase and Foreman delve into the healing process for Wilson - You can't always get what you want, but sometimes, you get what you need.

these were cute fics that were admittedly written prior to my conception. i enjoyed reading them - it follows the ducklings as they diagnose wilson with being in love with house and how the two get together.

Lost Causes by Eos (Wayback) PG13 (Teen+) 17164 An unguarded comment from Wilson proves to be quite unsettling for House's state of mind. Has three sequels, Same as It Ever Was, Reverse Psychology, and Foolish Hearts

this fic is older than me by almost half a month... that being said it can only be found in the deep recesses of the wayback machine. i enjoyed this fic and its sequels when i read them - it is mostly house coming to terms with his feelings for wilson following an accident in the first fic

Things That Go Bump by peg22 (ao3) Explicit 18,381 Wilson has nightmares. House gets a headache. Everyone tries to diagnose just what's going on between them. This story is set in Season 2, before House got shot, before the first ducklings left us, before Amber, before House/Cuddy . . . those halcyon days where House and Wilson were just . . . House and Wilson. Wilson is sleeping on House's sofa, after moving out from cancer patient, Grace. "Wilson just shook his head and limped back into the kitchen. He unloaded a sack of fresh produce. Good produce. Endives and garlic and tomatoes and asparagus. He moved on to the next sack. Beef. Good beef. Brisket and rump roast and ribeyes . . . he was halfway through the third sack of spices and imported cheeses, whistling and daydreaming about braised salmon with fresh asparagus when it hit him. He was being seduced. Through groceries. By groceries. By House through groceries. And he was falling for it. Hard. Lox, stock pot, and basil."

was actually reminded of this fic while digging through the recesses of old livejournal fic recs for house. i thought "hey wait.. wasn't that also on ao3?" it is! which saves you all the formatting of chapters that aren't linked and are spread across the original livejournal page it was uploaded on. but this fic is sweet and is a hurt/comfort nightmare fic done well. very dialogue heavy but very much in character.

R.I.C.E in Reverse by Phate Pheonix (FF.Net) Teen+ 22,000 An AU of 'The Greater Good' caused by a simple… twist. What if Wilson had discovered that Dana Miller was House's patient just an hour earlier? Cuddy won't know what hit her.

i remember this fic being longer than it was but i also remember really enjoying this fic. cuddy is a bit of a bitch in this but i don't find it to be bashing or anything - they (house & cuddy) are the same as they are in the show they just don't end up together like they do in the episode this is based on. also wilson coming to terms with his feelings for house. the writing is great and feels like it could be out of an episode of house.

buy some time, it's on my dime by ORiley42 (ao3) Explicit 27,034 Well, this took a longer time to write than I expected! Probably because it's five times longer than I intended lmao Wanted to try my hand at something more AU-ish. Though, because House is an ornery bastard and won’t do what I say at all, the setting is still broadly the same. The main difference being that House and Wilson have never met… I’d say this has season 1 vibes, but no actual timeline or plot refs. Also, AU idea sparked by I57371’s lovely “Phoning It In.” Also-also, title from "Nothing New" by Fly By Midnight.

this is not the only time you will see this author on this list - for good reason. i'm traditionally not one for au's or for strangers to lovers fics... but this one pulled it off. very smutty but the plot is still fun.

Witness, Witness by SkyeBean (ao3) Teen+ 29,111 It was past midnight when Wilson arrived, and House’s team had all left hours before. Cameron was the last to go, shooting House a pitying look as she pulled her coat on, but House had ignored her. A Wilson who’s been dating House for years doesn’t work at Princeton-Plainsboro. It takes House’s team years to find out that their boss is dating someone, let alone who, but they see more of the relationship than they know.

cute! what-if house and wilson did not work together but were together prior to season one. its a fun secret relationship fic.

Something to Prove by orphan_account (ao3) Teen+ 30,700 When House suddenly wants to initiate a relationship with Wilson, Wilson is overjoyed. The feelings he'd held for years are finally mutual. Or are they?

if you don't like angst this one isn't for you. house is kind of a massive dick in this one and spends the rest of the fic trying to make it up to wilson and win him over. has sequels that i did not read.

little glass vial by SupposedToBeWriting (ao3) Mature 39,093 House and Wilson have a peculiar friendship - though if you asked Wilson, sleeping together once while one man was reeling from a traumatic surgery slash breakup and the other was in a failing marriage isn't all that unusual between friends. They manage to make it work, mostly by never bringing it up again. While out, a patient's grieving brother approaches Wilson and injects him with an unknown compound. Wilson is rushed to the hospital. Though initially fine, he begins to exhibit strange and deadly symptoms. House is swept into a case that he cannot emotionally distance himself from, with a patient that he has exceptionally complex feelings for. Wilson clings to life as House hits brick wall after brick wall, desperate to save the one person he can't lose.

hurt/comfort with sick!wilson. Its also a case fic with a race against time that i enjoyed.

A Patient's Guide to Living with ICS by ORiley42 Explicit 40,071 House and Wilson share a hotel room at a medical conference. Read on for goofy acronyms, endless banter, horny middle-aged men, and more!

smutty work conference + friends with benefits to lovers fic. also!!! this author is generally just great with house fics.

A Modest Proposal by ignaz (ao3) Explicit 55,649 Tritter's case against House still depends on subpoenaed testimony from Wilson. To save House from losing everything, the doctors of PPTH decide on an unusual solution, which in turn leads to unexpected consequences. This is a story about the sacrifices we make that turn out not to be such great sacrifices after all. (Contains spoilers for everything up to and including "Merry Little Christmas.")

its on everyone's rec list - i know. but this is my rec list and i enjoyed it so its going on here. marriage of convenience trope my beloved. it has a sequel that everyone says is great but i haven't gotten around to it... yet.

Gaseous Nebula by TheFandomLesbian (ao3) Teen+ 77,372 After a hard day at work, House and Wilson intend to spend their evening watching the Princeton Philharmonic Orchestra. Instead, the building collapses, leaving one of them trapped in peril and the other desperate for answers. The chaos drives them to revelations about themselves and each other, but it may be too late.

another hurt/comfort fic that i absolutely adored. also, the second time this author is on the list! god i enjoyed reading this one - it had me on the edge of my seat despite how fantastical it is sometimes. felt like quality television surrealism with how bizarre some of the coincidences are but it tied everything together and had a happy ending.

there is a sequel but I have never read it and it is incomplete.

either love is a shrine (or else, a scar) by jamesevanwilson (ao3) Mature 79,985 House has a brilliant plan, and he needs Wilson's help. Wilson is a chronic enabler. Getting married for the fourth time should be relatively easy.

fake marriage in order to get money from house's dads will with a heafty dose of miscommunication and mutual pining between these morons.

It Will Find You in the End by junkyard_angel Mature 146,954 Gregory House is a misanthropic bastard with trust issues, who doesn't do feelings. But he's pretty sure he's in love -- or lust -- or something anyway -- with his best friend. Life is funny, in a not-funny way.  *UPDATE* -- Here's a link to the Spotify playlist of all songs referenced in this fic to date. Happy reading/listening! https://open.spotify.com/playlist/76B4n4UUncNYJG8scmKqVc?si=e5cd5de147924fb5 Thanks as always for reading, and feedback and comments are welcomed.

god this fic was long (not that thats a bad thing). they finally get together but then they also break up and then get back together so if angst isn't your cup of tea...

Here is a link to a great fic on ao3 with links to old house fic recs https://archiveofourown.org/works/16826263

I will update this as I read more/comb back through the LJ and FF.net archives that I slouthed through. I didn't keep track of most of those before i decided to make this list :/ sorry

originally posted 8/13/2024

[roryacker]

I love hybrid AUs. I dunno what it is, my current theory is it's just a weird autism trait, I won't get into that for now, but I just really like the idea of taking humans and giving them animal traits and instincts. I have. SO many headcanons lemme tell you.

I like to think of hybrids as a good mix of animalistic and human in behavior, most of the appeal for me is the behavior so I mean. That's a given.

so here's a bunch of my ideas for a Hybrid AU :) I'll probably utilize this for writing about them later on

• I like to think of Soap as a rough collie hybrid. Fluffy, herding dog, Scottish, and I feel like their fur lends well to his lil mohawk thing he's got goin on.

• Absolute menace. 100% he herds anyone and everyone he can get his hands on, primarily prey hybrids. Gaz is one of his most common herding targets, he tries to herd Ghost sometimes but usually gets nipped at for it, and Price is exempt from such instincts.

• Gaz is a deer hybrid, I think he'd look cool with antlers, specifically a red deer. Bucks are strong, man. He just gives me ungulate vibes most of the time idk what it is.

• He usually tolerates Soap's herding. :)

• Price could be lots of things. I've found that I'm actually quite fond of him just being a normal dude who sees the value in hybrids (and treating them like people) so I'll probably go with that. Otherwise I suppose another dog or something could work. Rotts are big and angry but also have a very unintimidating smile so maybe them? They're super good working dogs so. Still I'll mostly stick with the human idea.

• Ghost always depends on what I'm looking for really. Sometimes Wolf if I want the wild vibe, sometimes Dog because he just reminds me of a grumpy working dog. Definitely a GSD hybrid. I do prefer writing him as a dog hybrid anyways so I'll stick with that.

• Shepherds are technically a herding breed, but Ghost lacks any herding instincts and finds Soap's irritating. Best-case they're useful for gathering up the team in a mission to prevent unnecessary separation, though, and it's amusing to watch him weave around folks barking and snapping his teeth at people to get them to stay in line. Sometimes Ghost tolerates it, and sometimes he nips at him to get him to stop.

• I feel like outside of combat Ghost and Soap have a habit of wrestling. Like how real dogs tend to, yknow. You leave them alone for one second and suddenly someone's arm is in someone else's mouth, there's growling, it looks like they're fighting, and the only thing saying otherwise is the wagging tails and the lack of any blood or fur anywhere. It's how they bond

• Price definitely made an effort to not get any hunting hybrids because he'd rather not have infighting thanks to Gaz looking huntable, thank you. It's not even worry that Gaz would get hurt given the fact bucks pack such a punch, he just doesn't want to deal with all that tension.

• Feral, Domestic, Tame, and Wild all mean different things. A Domestic hybrid can be Feral and a Wild hybrid can be Tame, etc. It's mostly rooted in real-life terms, think feral housecats.

• Feral refers to temperament and handleability, it's a term that can change over time based on treatment. Tame is the same but flipped; so a Feral hybrid is harder to handle and acts more like their animal counterpart due to a lack of (positive) human contact, while Tame hybrids seem more intelligent in comparison just due to being easier to handle and better at communicating. Neither are fully unable to communicate by default, but personal traits can mean either are, if that makes any sense.

• Wild vs. Domestic is entirely about the species; a wolf or lion hybrid is wild, while a dog or housecat hybrid is domestic. This one's as simple as finding out if the species they're considered a hybrid of is domesticated or not. If they are, Domestic, if not, Wild. This term cannot change over time, but like their real-animal counterparts, Wild hybrids can be domesticated over time via selective breeding (it won't do much, but it is possible) and Domestic hybrids can slowly regain Wild traits only if multiple generations are exposed to conditions where they need it. So, selective breeding, but backwards. This practice is heavily discouraged as it just leads to unnecessary confusion and hybrid breeding is considered pretty cruel.

• "Hybrids" are not a literal hybrid of human and animal, because that's just kind of weird, but humans with a mutation that closely resembles certain animals. This phenomenon has only been properly recorded as of late, maybe a couple centuries, but there are implications that it might have existed earlier in history and just been ignored, seen as taboo, etc etc.

• There's a few different rules to which hybrids get what treatment. It's not uncommon for any and all hybrids to have a handler, and one handler can be in control of multiple hybrids, but they're not required to live together, and it's more like an emergency contact/trainer/guardian than an owner or something of the sort.

• It is, however, different for Wild and Feral hybrids. Tame Domestic hybrids are not required to have a handler, but Feral Domestic hybrids are at least supposed to have a trainer or therapist or something of the sort. With Wild hybrids it depends on the specific species, smaller Wilds are usually fine, especially if they seem harmless, herbivores tend to be exempt due to stereotypes, and most omnivores are fine, but medium-large carnivores and all Feral hybrids are required to have a handler and in some places required to live with them and be accompanied by them to most places. Wild carnivore hybrids are usually considered more dangerous, also due to stereotypes.

• Again, in certain places, Wild carnivores are expected to wear a muzzle and be properly handled (physical restraint in the form of a leash or the handler just being close enough and able to handle them), but this is mostly a private property/commercial spaces thing that depends on the exact place. Think like how a Petco or something (ew) might let you bring in your little dog or something, maybe a cat, but probably won't let you bring in a big rottweiler or something of the sort, depending on the location. Or how in some locations specific stores will let you bring in a pet as long as they're handled well, but others only allow in service dogs.

• This is very intentionally inhumane, as given how the real world functions I feel like yes we would base how we treat folks with carnivore-oriented traits on how we personify those animals in our minds. Going further I also imagine some places are permitted to bar certain species entirely, and species that are viewed as "unappealing" and violent (hyenas, coyotes and maybe jackals, probably foxes and raccoons in some areas, etc etc) tend to show up on this list a lot.

• Probably lots of folks advocating against this, but it sticks around like a tick because plenty of people are just little cowards about it and don't want the change. I imagine most herbivore hybrids are also against it because what's stopping them from being mistreated in the same way next, so it's mostly a non-hybrid thing.

• How much someone resembles their real-animal counterpart depends on content! This is a term seen in some real-world hybrids, most often I see it in wolfdogs as they're very easily hybridized and their offspring can breed. However, rather than being based on that, because again they're not actually hybrids it's more of a form of mimicry, it's based on the genetics deciding how much of their species they look and act like. I like to think there's a specific set of genes that causes this, and 1-2 traits that factor into how the traits look and how the behavior and instincts develop. Someone who's relatively low-content doesn't look much like the species if at all, and doesn't act much like them, while someone who's high-content will have a lot of the animal's traits and are more likely to fall into that Feral state due to how their brain is built. It isn't set in stone, but more of a big scale.

• Most of TF141 are pretty in the middle of that scale. Ghost is the highest content, Soap isn't far behind, and Gaz is about in the middle, maybe a bit below.

• Nikolai could be a human and I like the idea of normal guy Nikolai BUT he's russian, and to that I suggest: Russian Wolfhound, aka the Borzoi, because I love Borzois they're the best. And greyhounds but Borzoi is a Russian breed :) their fur reminds me a bit of his hair as well

• I just. Really like Borzois, man. I was SO excited when they started gaining popularity a while back, I know it was because of a silly joke but screw it man!! They got more love!!! Smooch smooch Borzois my beloved. They're a sighthound breed as well, and honestly, I feel like that just fits him somehow.

I have tons more but I'll leave it here because I got stuff to do, rambling over take my funky animalfolk and go

[writerjayne]

"C'mon Scott, it's Halloween!!" 

"Every day is Halloween for us Stiles," Scott sighed, picking at the food on his lunch tray.

"Not every day!" Stiles tried to protest, but when Scott gave him a look, Stiles relented slightly. "Okay, sure, every day can feel like Halloween when you're a teenage werewolf, but hear me out!!"

"Here you out about what?" Lydia asked as she and Allison joined the table, setting down their trays. 

"Scott's saying he doesn't want to do anything for Halloween!" Stiles whined slightly. 

It was childish, he knew, to whine about this, but Halloween had always been Stiles' favorite. The decorations, the atmosphere of fall and fun, dressing up, and getting to be something else other than yourself. Not to mention the candy! 

"What did you have in mind?" Erica asked as she, Isaac, and Boyd sat across from them. 

"It's not like I want to go trick or treating or anything," Stiles explained. "I just thought it would be fun to spend it together and celebrate. Though handing out candy would be fun." 

"We could watch scary movies," Boyd suggested. 

"Or we would walk some of the more decorated neighborhoods to look at the lights," Isaac added. 

"Normal stuff!" Stiles pointed out as he looked pleadingly at Scott. 

"Where would we even meet?" Scott countered. 

"Any of our houses would work," Lydia said practically. "Except maybe Allison's." 

"That's a good point," Allison agreed. "Dad's come a long way accepting my friendship with the pack, but I don't think he would be thrilled if I brought the pack home."

"We could ask Derek if we can use the loft!" Erica offered, enthusiasm warming her voice. 

"Costumes?" Stiles asked. 

"Optional?" Lydia offered the compromise, and Stiles nodded. 

"I'm good with that!" Stiles couldn't help his growing smile. "And if we don't want to commit to a full movie, we could look up Halloween episodes of TV shows we like!" 

"Oh, I like that idea!" Allison looked at Scott, hopefully. "What do you think?" 

Scott sighed again, but before he could answer, Stiles chimed in one more time:

"C'mon Scott, it'll be like when we were little!" 

That sentiment, along with Stiles' pleading eyes, was enough for Scott to give in with a reluctant smile. 

"I'm clearly outvoted. Who's house should we use?" 

"I think it depends on how late we'll be staying," Lydia said, ever the practical hostess. "Do we want to spend the night?" 

The group debated for a while who's house to use, and the pros and cons of the different locations weighed and considered. The Loft vs the Lake House. The Lake House vs Scotts House. Scott's house vs Stiles' House and, of course, Stiles' house vs the Loft. Full circle a few times before it was eventually decided that Stiles' house was the best choice, not only because his street got a decent amount of foot traffic and trick-or-treaters but because Stiles had the most movie options. 

******

"I still think every day is Halloween for us," Scott said by way of greeting when he arrived at Stiles' house after school. 

"And today, it's for everyone!" Stiles grinned, tossing a pack of Reese's pieces to the grumpy werewolf. "So you'll just have to deal with it. Nice costume, by the way." 

"It was easy enough," Scott shrugged. He was wearing a set of scrubs and had a stethoscope around his neck. "I didn't even have to steal anything." 

"I resent that comment," Stiles laughed. "I didn't steal anything either!" 

"So you just happened to have a leather jacket lying around?" 

"For your information, I borrowed it from Isaac," Stiles huffed. 

"He's lucky it fit," Isaac teased as the two entered the living room. The were' was lounging on the couch in a white T-shirt and jeans. The T-shirt had been written on with a Sharpie to say, 'This is my costume.' "He's kind of short," Isaac said. 

"Am I short or are you just freakishly tall?" Stiles shot back. 

"What are you supposed to be anyway?" Scott asked, plopping on the couch next to Isaac. 

"Isn't it obvious?" Stiles' grin had a hint of mischief now. "Here I'll give you a hint!" 

Stiles crossed to the furthest side of the room and struck a pose. His hands in his pockets, feet apart, and something close to a glare on his face as he stared at Scott. Scott stared back for a minute, thinking before he burst into laughter. 

"Are you Derek?" He managed to gasp between peals of laughter. 

Stiles dropped the glare, his face lighting up at Scott's delight. 

"Yeah! He'll probably kill me for it, but it's still a good costume!" 

"I know I said he didn't steal it, but if Derek asks, he absolutely did," Isaac grinned too, but before he could say more, he cocked his head towards the door.

"They back with the pizza?" Stiles asked, and Isaac nodded. 

Scott could hear them all now, too. 

"Perfect timing. It sounds like Lydia is here, too. Allison's with her," Isaac reported what he could hear to Stiles' human ears. 

"Awesome! Scott, grab plates for us?" Stiles asked. 

"Sure," Scott stood, heading to the kitchen. 

When he came back, everyone was settling around the living room. 

Erica was in all black and had a pair of cat ears. Boyd didn't seem to be wearing a costume but had brought several bags of candy (both to share and to pass out). Allison had braided her hair over one shoulder and brought her bow for a simple Katniss costume. Lydia was in a simple green dress with fake ivy twined around her head in a crown. 

"Poison Ivy?" Scott asked as he handed out the plates. 

Lydia nodded. 

"It had been my plan for handing out candy at home so I figured I would still wear it!" 

"Ivy and Catwoman," Stiles joked "wish we had known there was a theme." 

"Don't worry, Stiles, you're still my Batman," Erica winked. 

The group fell into easy banter, occasionally interrupted by trick-or-treaters as it got later. Eventually, they put on the Addams Family Values just for the atmosphere, as they mostly kept talking and handing out candy. It wasn't far into the movie when Derek showed up. 

"Hey Sourwolf!" Stiles called from the couch when Derek followed Erica inside. 

"Erica said you were all hanging out for Halloween," Derek looked awkward as he explained. "She said I should come." 

"Absolutely!" Stiles grinned. "Come sit. I think we have pizza still. Where did the box go?" 

Derek settled next to Stiles and was handed a plate with a couple of slices of pizza on it. He took a bite and subconsciously scanned the room as he ate, noting everyone's costumes or lack of costumes. He was confused by Stiles', though. The jacket was clearly Isaac's, and for the life of him, Derek couldn't figure out what Stiles was supposed to be. 

It was when Stiles was coming back from his turn to hand out candy that Derek finally asked.

"So what are you supposed to be?" 

Derek was confused by the giggles that broke out at his question. 

"Haven't figured it out yet, big guy?" Stiles smirked. "I'm you!" Stiles struck his pose and aimed his glare at Derek. "Back when you were a creeperwolf who would stare instead of actually communicating!" 

Everyone was laughing again, and Derek couldn't help a small smile. 

"Terrible," was all he said, and Stiles shrugged, his usual smile coming back. 

"At least I have a costume!" 

General protest broke out at this, and Stiles had to dodge thrown candy as he made his way back to his seat next to Derek. If Stiles took advantage of that fact to tuck himself closer to Derek (to use him as a shield), no one needed to know. 

And if, a couple of hours later, Derek casually put an arm around Stiles, who could blame him? He just needed to stretch; it was cramped on the couch. 

And if they were still like that, leaning into each other, fast asleep, surrounded by the pack (also asleep through the room, haphazardly covered with blankets and using each other as pillows), when the sheriff came home the next morning, who would be surprised? Certainly not Noah Stilinski, who snapped a few photos before grabbing some candy from the bowl on the table and heading upstairs. He could let them sleep. Questions could wait. 

[luveline]

hey babe, i was wondering if you’d write something with grumpy!sirius platonic or romantic (your choice) where the readers normally sunshine and all happy but everyone forgot her birthday so he does everything he can to cheer her up

not projecting at all 🤭

if you don’t want to that’s so okay i understand diolch cariad 🫶🏻🫶🏻

hi, thank you for your request! I hope you can make the very best of your day, anon, I’m sorry the people close to you forgot it :( please have a happy birthday! grumpy!sirius x sunshine fem!reader

Sirius is guilty of pretending you irk him. You're always smiling, always complimenting him, and always touching him. He knows you wouldn't touch him if he asked you not to —you checked with him a couple of times when you first met if it was okay, and he said, Yeah, it's okay, with no further explanation or objection. 

He pretends your sunny disposition doesn't make him happy, too, but it does. It's selfish, then, when he notices you aren't feeling good today and decides he has to correct it immediately, lest the ray of sunshine that is your presence diminish. 

He sits down beside you on the bench, propping his face in his hand, elbow on his knee, a picture of nonchalance. "Hey." 

"Hi, Siri." 

He takes his pack of Lamberts from his jacket pocket and offers you one. You never take one, but he offers anyway. He doesn't want you to start smoking, he just figures that it's a nice gesture. 

He puts them away without lighting any when you say no. 

"Don't not have one on my account," you say. 

It's exactly why you deserve to have someone checking on you, no matter how cold it is, and no matter how much fun everyone's having at the bar. You put everyone else first.

"I didn't want any." He was trying to cheer you up. He should've known a cigarette wouldn't do it. Best go in with guns blazing. 

Sirius rifles through the inside pocket of his leather jacket and pulls out the white box inside. He hadn't wrapped it. There's a confidence that comes with sincerity, and it's the kind of confidence he lacks. He's embarrassed enough to have bought you something in the first place. 

"Happy birthday," he says. "Don't tell me if you don't like it, please." 

You sit up a little straighter, inch by inch, accepting the small box into your hands. They wrap around the lid, your fingers moving with a deliberate gentleness, until your thumbs clamp over the top of it hard enough to make the lid bend. You smile at him, and it is perhaps the most heartbreaking smile he's ever seen. Disappointment and gratefulness all wrapped into one. 

"I didn't think anyone remembered," you say. Your voice is hoarse, and you cough rather than let it crack. 

He thought maybe you'd been upset because it was your birthday —Sirius himself has a weird relationship with his. He hadn't considered that no one else thought to celebrate with you. And despite his general unhappiness, his permanent headache and all the constraints of being as introverted as he is, Sirius sort of snaps.

He puts a hand on your shoulder, his elbow resting against your back, and pulls you toward him. "I'm so sorry." 

You're clearly surprised by his touch, but you don't shy away. "No, it's okay. I realise that it's my fault, you know, we're all adults and I should've mentioned it again, I can't expect people to know if I don't say." 

"I think…" He licks his lips. "Okay, I think that people genuinely do forget things, but it's a special day, and you expected special things. I really don't see how it's your fault." 

"Maybe not," you concede. You sniffle, and Sirius is horrified to realise you've a tear traversing down the soft slope of your cheek. "I don't know, I just wish people remembered." 

"I'm sorry," he says again. 

You wipe your cheek with a cruel hand. He can't stop himself from taking it, wanting to prevent any further self-meanness. Your eyes widen as you look him in the face, tears dewy at the waterline. 

"But you remembered," you say, tone happy even while thick with tears. 

"I wrote it down," he confesses. "I wanted to get it right." 

"That's so nice," you say, another tear cresting your cheek. You wrap your arms around his waist and tuck your cheek against his in a hug. "That's really thoughtful, Siri. Thank you." 

"You're welcome. You… make so much time for me. Whenever you see me. I don't know if you know how much you affect people, you can make anybody smile. I wanted to make sure I could do the same, even if it's only once." 

"You make me smile all the time." You squeeze him and then pull away, wiping your cheeks and straightening your jacket. 

He'd usually roll his eyes, but not right now. He just smiles at you, hoping you understand it for all the silent appreciation that it is. 

You huff a little breath in and drop your gaze to your hands in your lap, where you're untying the bow that's been wrapped around the jewellery box. You lift the lid, the sides emitting a shushing sound near enough lost to the sound of the street and the people laughing in the pub behind you. 

It's a bracelet. The beads are simple but not something you'd see everyday, silver backed hearts, flat on the silver side and a milky white that seems to glow on the bevelled fronts. There's four hearts, connected to smaller milky white beads. 

He was terrified buying it and he's scared now. 

"I really like you," he says. "I'm sorry about your birthday. You deserve a lot more." 

Your cheeks apple as you turn to him, your eyelashes kissing with the force of your smile. You pull your knees to touch his and offer him the bracelet on two fingers. "Can you hook it on, please?" 

"You don't have to wear it," he says, because he didn't think this far. 

"I want to wear it, please. It's beautiful. It's the nicest gift anyone's ever given me." 

He blinks hard and dips his head slightly to one side as he murmurs, "If you're sure," hands coming up to take the bracelet from you. 

You're both quiet as he unlatches it and lays it across your wrist. He's gentle to the point of aching, and he's putting every bit of effort that he can to stop his hands from trembling, he's so nervous.

"There," he says. "Anything else you need?" 

It's meant to be sarcastic, as if to say, you're working me like a dog, here. 

You shake your head hurriedly. "Nothing else. Thank you, Sirius." 

He takes his cigarettes out, knowing he won't be able to calm down, not when you're looking at him like he just hung the moon. "It's okay," he says, putting a cigarette between his lips. "Don't mention it. Please, don't." 

[delirious-donna]

Tales From The Housekeeper [Extra Drabble]

story summary: Your best friend lets you crash at her place over the spring break since you have nowhere else to go. Little did you know that it isn't actually her place. Instead, it belongs to a tall (grumpy) hot guy who finds you in his apartment–her brother.

an: despite never being seen, the developing relationship between you and Kento has been witnessed up close. Mrs McGarden has been Nanami's cleaner for many years and she knows in her heart what is happening within the walls of the apartment... a little diary that I thought was a fun idea.

warning: none, SFW, fluff and humour

Series Masterlist

𝓜𝓻𝓼 𝓜𝓬𝓖𝓪𝓻𝓭𝓮𝓷’𝓼 𝓒𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓛𝓸𝓰

𝓒𝓵𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓝𝓪𝓶𝓮: Nanami Kento 

𝓟𝓻𝓲𝓸𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓲𝓮𝓼: general tidying, kitchen deep cleaned once a week and trash to be removed, vacuum and mop every other day, windows on a Friday, ad hoc jobs as and when 

𝓒𝓵𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮𝓼: very polite, young professional man, values his privacy, has a younger sister who has been known to visit unexpectedly (she has her own key for the door, keycard for the elevator and the passcodes), sister aside it is unusual for others to be visiting. Enjoys homemade bread and good coffee (reminder to bring by baked goods every now and then – especially banana bread and caramel pecan muffins) 

𝓢𝓬𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓼: steer clear of anything overly floral, prefers subtle scents that evoke a sense of cleanliness, use Tom Ford Ébène Fumé reed diffuser in the master bedroom 

𝓜𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓪𝔂

No incidents to report. Apartment was empty on entry. Kitchen deep cleaned, skirting boards and cupboard doors included. Trash emptied. Took receipt of laundered items – left on master bed as requested. Replaced diffusers in living room and both bathrooms. 

𝓣𝓾𝓮𝓼𝓭𝓪𝔂

Strange phone call from Miss Nanami, client’s younger sister. I… I don’t know how to feel about it all. Over the years of my employment, I have grown very fond of Mr Nanami and whilst I do not see him most of the times I am here, on the occasions we do cross paths, he is always courteous and easy to converse with. That being said, I am not sure if I wish to be a part of the scheme she has proposed. I will have to think on it this evening, perhaps I will run it past Mr McGarden to see what he thinks of it all… 

Oh, before I forget. No other incidents to report. Linens from the beds stripped and remade with new sheets. All floors hoovered or mopped as planned. Plants watered. 

𝓦𝓮𝓭𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓭𝓪𝔂

I don’t know if my conscious will hold out, but I have decided that I could not ignore the plight of Miss Karin’s friend. What kind of woman would I be if I were not to allow a young woman a safe place to stay? I’ll be honest, Miss Karin was extremely persuasive… she would make an excellent lawyer. All I have to do is act oblivious if asked, which should not be a problem given the upcoming business trip. It might be nice to have a feminine presence in the apartment, and I can remove all trace of her before Mr Nanami returns, of that I am certain. 

One broken coffee mug (I expect my clumsiness was a result of my slightly frayed nerves) and I have left a note with the promise of replacing it. Couch cushions fluffed, blankets refolded and the ceiling fan and other hard to reach areas dusted. Counters sprayed down with disinfectant. List made for tomorrow – operation deep clean. 

𝓣𝓱𝓾𝓻𝓼𝓭𝓪𝔂

If I listed everything here it would take me an age. Suffice it to say the apartment is spotless, and I have left a Tupperware box of fruit scones for Mr Nanami to take away with him on his trip (my guilty conscious acting again and Mr McGarden was rather upset that there were no leftovers for him). Funny that I didn’t see his luggage out of the closet yet, perhaps he is packing last minute. I am both nervous and excited. I feel like a co-conspirator of some awful heist! 

𝓕𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓪𝔂

I am a nervous wreck… I barely slept last night and found myself starting work far earlier than normal simply because I couldn’t relax. All last-minute details straightened out. Mr Nanami had left for work or the airport by the time I arrived. Unusually there were some leftovers from the previous evening left out – a crystal tumbler with a hint of whisky in the bottom and a bowl with the stems of grapes. It’s not like him to not pick up after himself but maybe he was in a rush. I left as quickly as I could, not wishing to startle the poor girl who would be staying in the apartment. This is going to be fine, right? Oh, dear lord, what have I let myself in for… 

𝓜𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓪𝔂

If I avoid being fired it will be a miracle. From what I’ve heard there was a mix-up and now Mr Nanami knows of his sister’s scheme and apparently, she might have thrown me under the bus too. I will be having words with her as soon as she deems to answer my calls, the little madam. I caught the barest glimpse of the guest this morning as she was heading into her room, she smiled and I got the sense that despite the confusion, she is happy to be here. 

Mr Nanami, on the other hand, had less to say to me than I thought. He asked if I had known about Miss Karin’s plan and I couldn’t play dumb, not under his gaze. The man can be intimidating without really trying and I hope to goodness he hasn’t scared the poor woman. Rather than react with anger, he simply tightened his jaw and gave a firm nod. There is something different about him, I’m not sure what makes me say that, call it woman’s intuition. I am on reduced hours until his guest leaves and I can only hope he doesn’t reconsider my offer of resignation. I really would miss him as a client. 

𝓣𝓱𝓾𝓻𝓼𝓭𝓪𝔂 

There is something brewing here, I can feel it. What I claimed as woman’s intuition is now so much more. Mr Nanami is more relaxed than I have ever seen him, and he wears it well. It is nice to see him looking less tired, his eyes are brighter, and I would swear he smiles more frequently. His companion is doing wonders for his mood and no wonder, she is such a lovely young thing. Very intelligent, witty, and most importantly, she doesn’t let anyone walk over her. We have chatted once or twice but only for a minute. I like her, and I don’t believe I am alone in that sentiment. 

I keep forgetting to detail my tasks, I would forget my head if it weren’t screwed on as Mr McGarden likes to remind me. Linens changed. Laundry ordered for collection on Monday morning. Floors cleaned. Mug replaced from last week. Plants watered and pruned. 

𝓜𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓪𝔂

Oh, my days. I don’t know what to think. The atmosphere continues to change every time I visit. Today it seems the two of them have ventured to the National Museum together. Would one consider that a date? Maybe I am reading into things too much. Too many Mills and Boon novels in my nightstand. He deserves happiness. Money can only afford so much. I’ve worked for Mr Nanami long enough to want to see him settle and be happy. I dare not get my hopes up but it’s impossible when I witness these furtive little glances between them. It’s also rather funny how they seem to fall silent whenever I am within earshot. It reminds me of my courting days… 

Living area straightened, a dog-eared book found down the side of the couch cushions, and I doubt it belongs to Mr Nanami. His bookshelves are stuffed full, but each book is in pristine, unread condition. The man simply does not have time for reading. Maybe they will change. Floors cleaned. I can’t help but notice that the apartment feels far more lived in than it ever has. Diffuser changed in the master bedroom. 

𝓦𝓮𝓭𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓭𝓪𝔂

She left. I don’t know what else to say. The apartment is a mess, well, as messy as I’ve ever seen it. Decorative ribbon on the living room floor, a half empty bottle of whisky on the kitchen island, two mugs unused but set out… Mr Nanami refuses to speak to me, refuses to even meet my eye. I’d take it for anger if I didn’t know better. There is guilt in his gaze. Whatever happened yesterday, he won’t be drawn on the matter. I’ve thought to call Miss Karin but is it my place? Never have I seen the man so dishevelled and utterly miserable. I suspect he hasn’t bathed as I can smell the lingering alcohol when he slouches past. I don’t like this. I should have never meddled in his affairs. Just when I thought he might have found someone to brighten his days… oh, it’s such a mess. 

Kitchen disinfected, dishwasher emptied and reloaded. Living area tidied except for the ribbon which I dare not touch. Bedrooms… the guest room is barren and sad. Mr Nanami prevented me from stripping the linens, in fact, he practically shooed me from the room. Bathrooms cleaned. There is a lump in my throat as I write this. I wish I had never been a part of any of this, not when it has seemingly ended so disastrously. What shall I do? I suppose that nothing would be the best answer, it is not my business to meddle in. 

𝓕𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓪𝔂

No one was home. I worry that Mr Nanami is not eating, there is very little trash and no leftovers in the fridge. I couldn’t help but peek inside the bedroom next to his and I found it exactly as it had been the last time I was here. The sheets are made but the ruffles show the clear form of a body huddled atop the bed. I’m not sure if it’s from the poor girl or if Mr Nanami has taken to sleeping in here. A sadness remains and I’ve taken to completing my tasks as quickly as possible to escape the gloom. If things have not improved over the weekend… perhaps I can offer a friendly ear? I doubt he would accept the offer, but I can’t continue on like this and feeling partly responsible. 

Windows washed. Floors cleaned. Empty liquor bottles taken out for recycling… he never normally drinks this heavily.  

𝓜𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓪𝔂

I was running late today, and of all the days to fall behind. It must be serendipitous! The key was barely in the lock when my phone rang from the depths of my bag. Lo and behold… Miss Karin had finally returned my calls. I was halfway through giving her a mouthful when she cut me off with seven words that I will remember for years to come.  

He left work to go find her. 

I’m in shock. Never have I known Mr Nanami to leave work before the day was done. In fact, he often worked far later than he needed to just to stay ahead of the competition. There was something in Miss Karin’s voice, I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but she knows more than she was letting on. I could have cried on the spot. 

Linens changed although I have again left the guest bedroom. Kitchen deep cleaned. Plants watered and pruned. Dusting done. I took the liberty of baking some bread whilst I was here. The sun was long down by the time I left. I guess I lingered in the hopes of maybe seeing them both, but it wasn’t to be. There is hope in my heart once more and I will nurture it. Mr McGarden picked me up this evening and listened to me on the drive home. He told me about a saying from the country he was born and raised in… ‘whits fur ye’ll no go by ye’, which means what is for you will not go by you and I believe that in my heart. 

There will be a happy ending, or I will eat my hat! 

[itsa-me-lily]

Here is your winnings from the poll. I hope you enjoy it. I did. I didn't suspect Simon to be so strange. I should have but I didn't.

Here is the MPS Au master playlist

Here is Simon & Thimble playlist

And here is Simon on his first med leave fic

Content warning

dentist, and dentist stuff, potentially odd use of teeth

You never did learn what had put Simon on his two weeks of med leave, but it did teach you that the man hated the idea of it. According to Simon, at least, med leave was a waste if a person wasn't nearly dying or missing a limb. Hell even major surgery seemed to toe the line to him.

All that to say it was rather surprising when one day Simon came to you looking grumpier than normal, which was saying for him, asking if you'd be willing to go to the dentist with him. Apparently at the last visit he was told he had to get his wisdom teeth removed, and that due to the anesthetic he wasn't allowed to drive himself home afterwards. And every member of his team was supposedly busy.

Mentally you called bullshit on that one. Because you were pretty sure that they'd drop out of their own wedding if it meant seeing Simon out of it after surgery. So whatever reason that they didn't want to be there only meant that it was going to be your pain in the ass.

But...technically speaking...Simon was your husband...and you didn't hate the guy. He was pretty decent some days, so you'd agreed be his ride home. You were starting to slightly regret the choice after waiting nearly an hour. The nurse had explained that depending on a few things getting one's wisdom teeth removed could take a bit, but Simon's surgery was suppose to be quick and easy. The supposed should have been foreshadowing.

Finally though someone poked their head into the lobby, a young woman in peach scrubs who didn't look nearly as perky as her voice tried to sound.

"Mrs. Riley?"

Oh thank god you lived on a base full of people who pretty much got manners drilled into them or else you would have completely assumed that they were calling for someone else.

"Here."

"He's all ready for you. Follow me."

The second bit of foreshadowing should have been the quick pace that the dental technician had as you followed her into the back offices.

The actual fucking warning you should have understood was the consistent low toned grumbling you heard as you pushed the door open, somehow unsuspecting of what you were about to walk into.

Hamster was the first thing that came to mind when you saw Simon. Even with his surgical mask back on you could tell that they had packed his mouth with gauze and cotton tubes by how much his cheeks puffed out.

Grumpy Cat was the second thing that came to mind when you saw him because holy fuck were his eyebrows pretty vocal about what he was feeling. They met in the middle of his forehead in a furrow that you were pretty sure was going to cause a permanent wrinkle.

Before you could say anything though, Simon was already making demands, sounding petulant the entire time.

"Make 'em put 'em back."

"Uh-"

"Mr. Riley like I-"

"Teef belong in my mouf"

"Yes but-"

"They's mine anyway"

"Simon-"

You could not giggle at the way Simon looked at you, eyes all big and trying to be serious, but looking more like a hound dog's droopy eyes. Really, you were going to be a supportive wife, in a few seconds.

"What are you going to do with your teeth Simon?"

You ignore the way the dentist was glaring at you, at least Simon had stopped demanding them back for the moment. In fact it gave you a blessed thirty seconds of quiet as he thought about.

"Gonna...gonna make rings."

Yeah that backfired on you.

"What?"

"Gonna make rings with yous and mines teef."

Why the fuck was he taking your teeth now?

"That's...nice? I guess?"

Thankfully Simon didn't seem to catch on to the hesitancy in your voice, nodding to himself very seriously.

"Gonna have matching rings with my missuses"

That...should not have almost sounded as romantic as you thought you did. God Simon's weirdness was starting to rub off on you. Fucking cohabitation. Thankfully though it seemed Simon was busy thinking about how to make matching rings with teeth because he was entertained enough for the dental surgeon to give you the timeline of healing, along with care instructions, and Simon's prescription of pain management medication. You were sure getting him to take those would so easy.

He seemed to still be engrossed in his design thoughts, because getting him out and to the car was simple enough. Getting him in the car was interesting. He kept insisting that he should have been the one driving, because he was the man and it was his job to take care of his wife. You kept reminding him that women had been driving for over a century now. This went on for a good five minutes.

You actually had to threaten to not wear your matching tooth ring for him to get in the car. Unfortunately the same threat did not work to keep him from passenger seat driving the entire time. To quote, the deal was already agreed on when he got in the car. You really should have just said you were going out of town.

By the time you were finally home you had felt like you'd failed your driving test five times and murdered your husband in your mind a dozen. Thankfully for both of your sakes, getting him from the car to your home was a smooth operation. And once he was inside? Not as smooth.

As soon as he had crossed the threshold, Simon wobbled his way over to the boys, nearly falling over when he tried to bend over to pet them. The only thing between him and a concussion was the fact that you'd managed to grab the back of his pants in time and pulled him back. Then he was looking at you with those same sad hound dog eyes, demanding to know why you were keeping his sons from him.

At least you knew he liked the pigs.

You'd managed to make up some lie about Simon needing to wash his hands first to keep him from trying again to pet his 'sons', and got him on the couch. You were only partially tempted to then turn on the TV to something like CocoMelon to see if it'd keep his attention. Only partially.

Whatever they had given him in the office must have been strong because Simon spent a good ten minutes just staring at the silent TV screen as if it was actually playing CocoMelon. You weren't going to complain as you got a quick plate together for the kids.

First unfortunate thing was, you never got the pigs their plate because as you were walking past him Simon decided to wrap his arms around you and pretty much haul you back onto the couch. Vegetables did go flying, but the plastic plate didn't break when it hit the ground. So small victories.

The second was that Simon Riley was like a fucking ton of rocks and you did not have any upper body strength. So when Simon decided that you both need to lay down on the couch, you were both gonna be on that couch. You had tried to wiggle out of his grasp but it only caused him to grumble and hold on tighter. At least you could still breath as the man decided to use you as his own personal body pillow for his afternoon nap.

The third was three little betrayed faces that you could just see over the curve of Simon's shoulder as they in fact did not get their snacks.

"Hey don't look at me like that. It isn't my fault your father's heavy."

With it obvious that you weren't going to go anywhere for the next while, you did at least manage to get your phone out of your pocket to shoot a message to Johnny.

'Y'all are fucking dicks.'

Rat bastard left you on read.

Simon woke up to his fucking mouth hurting. He had kept telling Price that his teeth were fucking fine, and then the Army dentist had to go and snitch on him. Then he didn't have a choice but to go and have his fucking teeth pulled, and of course supposedly all the guys were going to be too busy to drive him, so he had to go and ask you. And now he was going to be on med leave, again. For a bullshit reason. Again.

Probably the worst part about it all though is that he couldn't remember how he got home. The last thing Simon could remember was being in the stupid dentists office following the instructions to fucking count backwards as they gave him fucking propofol. So god only knows what happened between then and now.

At least you were decent enough to give him a pillow before he apparently fell asleep. He sighed as he shut his eyes and buried his face into it. You must had just washed the pillowcases because it really smelt like you and the detergent you used...though...why was it moving? Simon's eyes shot open as he took in his surroundings, namely whatever the fuck he was laying on.

Which was apparently you. Specifically a sleeping you. More specifically his pillow had been your...bosom. Simon was never more thankful that you were typically a deep sleeper because he did not need you to see the way he had a full body spasm over the fact he essentially had his face shoved into your chest.

Really Simon should get off of you. He should retreat and hide away in the bathroom while he tried to decide if he was going to pretend it never happened. But...you were rather comfortable, and he didn't know if he could slip out of the arms you'd wrapped around his shoulders without waking you. So he did the next best thing.

He fished his phone out of his pocket and messaged Soap.

'SOS Need you to come be distraction'

Rat bastard only sent him back the laughing face.

With another sigh, Simon thought over his options. Really he did. And well...his mouth fucking hurt and honestly a couple more hours of sleep weren't going to kill him.

You made a surprisingly good pillow.

Edit;

None of the boys wanted to get Simon because he's always super bull headed about driving and he is unsuspectingly cuddly after any kind of anesthesia. Price missed a meeting once because Simon refused to let go of him.

Johnny doesn't respond because he's a little scared of Thimble after she plucked what felt like half his bleeding eyebrows once.