#i did talk about the fifth commandment thing with him and it was nice too <33< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[shalom-iamcominghome]

I had a really nice discussion (almost two hours long in my car that was hot!) with my rabbi. As some background, he's kind of a naturalist/hippie kind of character. He started out our meeting with deep breathing and meditation, to illustrate this.

So, the interesting thing he said was about Rosh Hashanah and Tu BeShvat. It went something like...

"When the leaves fall, we celebrate the new year. Our own leaves fall as we shed our old habits and the things we choose to leave behind, and we enter the hibernation of winter to reflect. It's the new year for ourselves. Once the leaves bud again with leaves, we celebrate the new year with trees just as we ourselves wake up and rejuvenate to dedicate ourselves to growth. We are connected with everything in nature, with the trees around us as we continue to live"

I don't know, there's something about connecting ourselves with nature that I really love about judaism. We are not an island - we cannot survive alone. We need each other, we need nature, we need g-d, we need to live. And that's what I love so much.

[sea-you-in-paradise]

Hi can I please get an Erwin x secret wife reader? Just a lot of fluff and how the scouts finds out that their commander is a married man. Thank you

homie... this is the cutest ask ever oh my god i'm fucking giggling over this and i'm not even an erwin girly

summary: erwin smith x secret wife reader: meeting, married life, and the discovery word count: 1.449 setting: canonverse features: erwin smith fem!reader warnings: season 2 & 3 spoilers

when erwin smith met you, not even his resolve to stay away from relationships could stop him from falling in love. and somewhat unfortunately, there was no stopping you from loving him back.

frankly, your relationship was the last thing erwin wanted. being a scout, the commander of the scouts nonetheless, meant that tomorrow was never promised. with the disproportionately slim chance of surviving his career until retirement, he had made a silent promise to stay away from love. of course, meeting you changed that in spite of his better judgement...

-it was shortly after erwin had been named the new commander of the scouts. after is appointment, he often went and got a beer at this small tavern in one of sina's outlier districts so he could try to organize his thoughts

-you were the one to approach him, asking if he was alright because he looked a little dejected. erwin, always hellbent on demonstrating his strength, overcompensated a little bit and exuded a little too much of his illusive confidence

-you laughed at him and told him that he acts like a politician

-it wasn't often that someone saw through him, he found it intriguing. you talked for awhile that nigh, expecting to go your separate ways, but you ran into him there a few more times, and when you did, you would sit together and talk. eventually, you organized some cafe dates on sunday mornings. you didn't actually know who he was until your fifth or sixth meeting, which was funny to you because he never thought to mention it, and funny to him because he thought you knew all along

-you made him realize that there was more to life than discovering the unknown- that there was a lot of value in what he already had. he made you think more about your existence in the walls. you challenged each other

-within a year of meeting, you were married. you decided that if you were determined to be in a relationship, it was best that you went all in since time might end up being short

-married life with erwin doesn't always feel like married life. there's a lot of being alone for both of you while he's away on missions or in other districts for planning and other administrative tasks

-he sends you letters if he's away for more than a week. they are not very emotional letters and they don't ever detail anything specific about people, just events. but he is sure to tell you about the things he thinks you would enjoy the most- like how he saw a sunset that reminded him of one you watched together early in your relationship

-he's the type to be like "i'm not a romantic, but.." and then write something really gushy lol

-when he gets home, he likes to bake those cookies that are shaped like flowers with jam in the middle. he has mastered his family recipe for them. he feels like it's a nice way to show you how much he still cares about you after being away from home for so long

-when you're together, he tries to be very present with you. he enjoys cooking meals together and playing card games

-his love language is acts of service so he really wants to make you feel at ease when he's home because he's sure it stresses you out a lot when he isn't. he ends up doing a lot around the house, even if nothing really needs to be done. like especially on longer stretches of being home, he would start home improvement projects if there was nothing to clean or help with. somehow, he always finishes them even if it's at the expense of a decent night's sleep

-he has a home office, but he does his best to only do work after you've gone to sleep/before you wake up if it's his day off (this man is always working :( even if he doesn't have a deadline)

-you don't usually go out on the town. it's exhausting travelling as much as he does, so he likes to feel like he has a real home base and spend a lot of time there

-definitely "lets" you win arguments, but he still thinks you're wrong lol

-he is a bath man. like he spends an unhealthy amount of time in the tub if he has the time for it. he likes salts that help with soreness and he likes when you take them together so you can just talk about your day

-if you were part of something like a book club/knitting group/something where other women get together and do granny activities, erwin loves when you host. he is making cocktails/tea and hanging out with you all to get the latest gossip. he doesn't like to interact with too many of his coworkers bc he doesn't want to get attached lmao, but he loves knowing the neighborhood tea

-"ingrid, waiting for him to come to his senses is a waste of your time. you deserve someone who respects you." (needless to say, everyone loves him.)

-because of stuff like this, you aren't exactly secretly married. like your family and friends all know that you are married to the scouts' commander, they just know better than to run their mouth about it. erwin just never talks about his personal life at work

-his section commanders all know, but they were all super shocked to find out. everyone would have been up late working on a plan or something and he finally tells them to go home. someone would have asked a last minute question and he's like, "tomorrow. i'm late for dinner." and hange is the only one bold enough to be like, "haha, you got a secret wife or something?" and he just raises a thick eyebrow like "my wife isn't a secret."

-everyone was shook and waited for him to leave to talk about it and try to figure out the lore

-levi found out later, awhile after he joined the scouts when he heard everyone gossiping about you two. he pretended he didn't care but the man was shocked

-you might meet a few section commanders/captains over the years by picking him up at work for a date or eating lunch with him in his office when he's in the capital, but the introduction is always brief and it's never long enough for you to get to know anyone

-any day that you plan to visit him at work, he calls miche into his office beforehand and tells him that he's not allowed to sniff you in the event that you meet

-when erwin loses his arm and levi finds out, he's obviously pissed that he couldn't have been there to help, but all he ends up saying at first is "sucks for the mrs."

-when erwin comes home for the first time after this, he almost feels embarrassed that he can't be doing things on his own, and terrible that he can't do things for you like usual. tbh, he'd ve kind of aloof at first bc mans is avoidant, so you'd have to show him that you're not throwing in the towel

-it's a massive moment of vulnerability for him when you help him out with things that used to be second nature, like buttoning his shirt and writing. however, he spends a lot of time at home while he's healing and although there are some moments of tension, you grow together a lot

-hange would offhandedly mention you at the beginning of the events of season 3, like half joking and half curious. "you think erwin's wife is gonna leave him? he lost an arm and now he's in prison. that's gotta test the ol' vows."

-levi would glare at them in utter disbelief like ?? "honestly, shitty glasses. where do you get the nerve?" and sasha and connie would overhear and look at each other and just go off the rails trying to piece it all together, like trying to figure out if they missed signs or smth

-levi squad uses this as a distraction from the horrors of humanity within the walls :D

-overall, erwin values you and your relationship above any other relationship he has. he wants to protect you from getting attached to his coworkers because it's bad enough that you fell in love in the first place. he considers your relationship the most selfish and self indulgent thing he's taken part in, but he can't bring himself to feel remorse because you're impossible not to love and he wants you waiting for him when he gets home

[iloveyanderes]

Yandere hunting dogs analysis, I'm doin it. Doing it for my fellow hunting dogs lovers.

This will not include the captain and the fifth member because one there names are two hard and I hate the captain (don't tell teruko) also teruko will be platonic.

First analyzations:

Tecchou: he's a rather odd guy, very questionable food tastes, but he seems like a very kind and loyal dude, he also drinks respect woman juice, be like him. He has complete and utter respect for justice and those that show respect to others. He's good-natured to the bone and an absolute idiot, he seems attached to jouno in some way despite how jouno tells him he wishes he were dead like every other five minutes, in the manga he lost jouno for like 15 minutes and then threw away justice and beat up a 14 year old child. I think he was kinda having a panic attack. This actions prove that he would put his love ones above justice, his usual number one thing, we don't know much about his backstory so I can't analyze that too.

Jouno:I haven't seen his backstory in the manga so what I'm about to analyze might not be true so talk it with a grain of salt, I heard from third party information that he was originally a criminal who got reformed and joined the hunting dogs. He's also a sadist with exceptional senses other then his sight, because you know he's blind. Despite the fact that he's a sadist he loves saving people and in the end will put people over his own pleasures.

Teruko: personally I believe she is a lot older then she appears, she is a bit more sadistic then jouno but a lot better at hiding it, with her relationship with the commander if she truly loves an admires someone she just end up doing whatever they want, but I did see a theory that she's being brainwashed of some sort and I have to admit I believe it so that character point is debunked for me but I'll still use it because there's a probable chance the theory is not true, her most scary side is when she goes along with what others say with a smile, shown in the manga when she fights sigma, absolutely loves getting piggy back rides from litterly anyone, not to mention she cried when she finally got this one evil guy whose name I don't remember to confess. So very fun character.

Type of yandere:

Tecchou: harmless, protective, out of the three I'd probably want him as a yandere, he's so weird in general that you probably wouldn't even notice that he's a yandere at all, very protective, like I said earlier he's willing to put his loved ones above justice and your on the top, he doesn't care if the person that hurt you was a normal civilian or even a hero like him, he will make them pay. If you were a normal civilian he probably would be like that one guy you have complete trust in, visits your home and buys you a bunch of food, if you were a hunting dog he would be right next to you like glue, never leaving you alone, think tecchou and jouno but 3×, might take a lot of your missions to protect you so just bonk him on the head and he'll back down. If you were a villain it be a very very different story, a lot more rough but would definitely believe he could reform you.

Jouno:manipulative and sadistic, at first glance he'd look like he would be an easy yandere to escape because of his blindness but it's the complete opposite, his heightened senses and the fact he's in a worldwide military unit makes him a very hard yandere to escape, if you were a civilian he absolutely will kidnap you and keep you in some bunker, if you were apart of the hunting dogs he would volunteer to be your partner all the time and then nitpick you for every little mistake you make, his sadistic tendencies would go through the roof if you were a villain, physically torturing you simply because he can. Don't get him wrong, he genuinely cares for you but has a very hard time expressing it.

Teruko(platonic): clingy and sadistic, she is sometimes super nice and sometimes super mean, is not protective but would not hesitate to beat the shit out of someone and torture them for giving you the slightest of bad looks, regardless of what you are she will demand you carry her over her shoulders. if you were a civilian she's gonna be more of a stalker type of yandere, most of the time you don't even know she's in your house until you wake up at three a.m. to your tv going off and she's right next to you on your bed, smiling at you as if you'd invited her to have a sleepover at your house, if you were a hunting dog think how she is with the captain but a lot worse never leaving you alone kinda like tecchou but through physical contact, if your a villain I'd suggest pulling a Xie lian and staying in a coffin for a 100 years, because damn this girl is terrifying, the type to enjoy terrorizing the terrorists and she thinks of you as the toy she can never break, the longer you last through her torture the more she likes you, so I'd suggest dying quickly.

Bonus: tecchou and jouno: having tecchou and jouno as a yandere would be better then having them as separate yandere's, mainly because there too busy talking to each other to talk to you, bickering ×10 jouno can't be sadistic with you because tecchou will stab him in the butt and tecchou can't let you be free because jouno absolutely refuses to let you go. To be honest you might end up laughing a bunch of the time because of there bickering and it being ridiculous, though you do have to be nice to jouno or else he'll like tecchou feed you his weird food combinations, overall this wouldn't really be that bad of a duo.

Bonus bonus: same as before but add teruko to the mix, this is absolutely wild jouno and teruko's sadistic nature combining with each other and more of suegiku bickering= wildness, imagine just you and teruko sitting in the corner and suegiku argue about the move random things, teruko really likes to tease you and depending on your reactions it'll either turn sadistic or gentle.

I don't have ideas for individual but I do have one for the three of them together.

1. I've been trying to write this on Wattpad but I haven't gone far or posted it, imagine previously being really close friends with the hunting dogs, like they visit you every opportunity they get at this point in time their not yandere but then you get kidnapped by some random evil man and get experimented on until you become some half human half bird thing, were you can turn into a bird but you forget everything, then get rescued by the arm detective agency and then you begin to work for them. When they get framed by the decay of angels your to busy trying to get atsushis foot out of the ground and don't appear on tv, but later when your helping your groupies out you get ambushed by tecchou and jouno who recognize you immediately but you have no idea who they are, immediately they jump to the conclusion that the ada brainwashed you and that your doing this against you will and meanwhile your like "who tf are you!?" Escaping with the help of chuuya they go to tell teruko and she is super pissed. "Not only are these guys terrorists but they freaking brainwashed my bestie!" Is what she thinks, oh boy, angry teruko is terrifying. Eventually they end up kidnapping you and keep you restrained for "your own safety" not to mention you keep fighting back simply because you have no idea who these weird people are and your more focused on helping the people that helped you.

2.your someone who joined the military at 12 years old, your entire life was dedicated to it, everything you are is to serve in the military, so anyone can imagine your happiness when you were told by your Superior that you were getting promoted. Becoming an assistant for the hunting dogs, or at least you were happy about it until you learned this meant all paperwork and no saving citizens whatsoever, that was there job. Regardless of that you still went to the job openheartingly, the moment you step into the place your immediately bombarded by the sight of a little girl crying, giving the girl a piece of candy you had she immediately stops, smiling you ask what's wrong and her answer confuses you to the max, she whined about finally getting a confession from some evil dude, complaining about how she thought she could torture him forever and he'd never break but he did, 'wtf?' You had thought, your confusion was answered when two very different looking males came into the room, one having dark spiky hair and the other white. You soon find out that these are the people your working for, quickly getting to know them you discover each of there personalities, let's just say they have really really strong personalities, tecchou is a dumbass with a strong sense of justice, jouno is very sadistic but you can still talk to him, teruko... Well she follows you everywhere but is the most scary human being you've ever met. Doing paperwork is the most boring job you've ever had, as much as you hate to admit it but the front lines are where you thrive, your duty is to die on the battlefield not be holded up in this place. The hunting dogs fought more then actual hunting dogs, a lot more powerful then you'll ever be, you felt awe watching them but also fear, hearing teruko and jouno torture people in the middle of the night when your trying to get paperwork done is not helping, tecchou really isn't that much of a help either his weird food choices in the middle of the night may or may not have made you throw up in the middle of the night. Eventually it becomes too much and you hand in a resignation letter thinking you can just join another military in Canada or the u.s. when the hunting dogs were told of this they were not happy, it wasn't until you heard someone breaking and entering into your house that you realized how much they were attached to you.

This is all I've got for you guys, hope you enjoyed and please give me your ideas.

Have a good day.

[the-cult-of-riley]

Sleeping With Ghosts (Act One: Chapter Eighteen)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC

[[Masterlist]]

A/N:

While I did try and do my research, I just want to remind you all that I know fuck all about the military lmaoooo

Also, fun fact; in the UK the word fanny doesn't mean ass like it does in the US. It actually means female genitals lolololol

Simon was distracted and it made guilt bloom in his stomach. Lottie had planned a nice day out for them for Bonfire Night and here he was, a million miles away in his head. He had been since the day before when his Commanding Officer had called him into the office and broke the news. He’d been excited at first, a deep sense of pride filling him so much he thought he might explode. He’d wanted this for so long and now it was within reach, his dreams finally able to become a reality. But then he’d thought about Charlotte, thought about what it meant for their relationship, thought about how it would change things, thought about how this might be too much for her and she might say fuck it and walk away. 

All of his excitement got sucked right out of him and he’d been stuck in his head since the day before, worry tearing him apart from the inside out at how to break the news. And she’d noticed something was off with him, of course she did. She noticed how he was more withdrawn, more distant and when he’d given her lies as she asked if he was okay, she’d given up with words and settled for just being close to him, trying to show him she cared and she was there for him and it made him feel like a bastard. 

They were walking hand in hand, Lottie pressed against his side as they made their way through Platt Fields park where the bonfire was. She’d asked him if he’d ever been to a firework display and he’d told her hadn't been to a proper one but back in Gorton some of the kids would light a bonfire at the fields out back. He and Tommy would sneak over to watch it as they let some fireworks off but it always ended with the fire brigade being called and sometimes even the police. She hadn't ever been to one either and she thought it would be nice for them to go. But now he was here and he couldn't smile to save his life and he knew he was casting a dark and gloomy cloud over something she thought was special and he hated it. 

He knew he’d have to tell her about it when they got back, he knew he couldn't last another day like this keeping it from her. It made him feel sick, not knowing how she’d react and even just knowing things would change even if she was okay with it. It almost felt like he had to sacrifice in order to get what he’d wanted for the longest time and it was an uncomfortable feeling. For so long now he’d been in a comfortable part of his life where everything seemed to be going great and he wished he could have what he wanted without things changing with them. 

They'd watched the firework display silently, Charlotte glancing at him worriedly every few minutes and making his guilt increase. Everyone else was in high spirits, kids running around yelling ‘remember, remember the fifth of November’, everyone just enjoying themselves. Once it was over, they stayed around the bonfire for a little while longer before she turned to him.

“Let's go home,” she gave him a soft smile but he saw right through it. She was worried about him but she was also disappointed that her planned day didn't go as she wanted it to. He really wished his CO had given him the news after Bonfire Night instead. 

“Alright, love,” he murmured, getting tugged along by his hand and she led him out of the park. 

The wait for the bus was rather uncomfortable. He knew she was dying to ask him what was up with him again but she didn't want to push it since it was obvious he didn't want to talk about it. He was trying to will some confidence within himself for when they got back. He needed to rip it off like a fucking plaster and just tell her so he knew how it would all go. It was no good ruminating in his mind, thinking over every possibility of how the conversation would go. 

When they got back to theirs, they shrugged off their coats and hung them up and he could feel her eyes burning into him before she meandered off to the kitchen. He heard the kettle boil and he blew out a deep breath, rolling his shoulders before he walked over to the couch and sat down heavily on it. She came back with two steaming cups and settled them on the coffee table and he hated how she hovered uncertainly like she wasn't sure if he even wanted her around him.

“Come here, love. There's somethin’ I need to talk to you about,” he uttered, trying to keep the nerves out of his tone but failing. This has been his plan for years, the goal he'd set his sights on long ago. Now he was there, now it was in reach and he wanted to share that with her despite his nerves. He wanted to be happy about it.

“That sounds… ominous,” she murmured with a frown, anxiously twisting her fingers in front of her. 

He could see her brain was probably going through every bad thing he could be about to tell her, no doubt settling on some bullshit about him leaving her. As if he ever would. So he held his hand out to her, looking at her with warm and expectant eyes that made her relax a little. She padded over, taking his hand and allowing him to pull her to sit in his lap. She watched him warily and he settled his hands on her hips, squeezing them affectionately.

“I uh… I'm gonna be trying out for the SAS,” he admitted. 

He knew it would be tough going and yet he knew he'd fucking thrive there. He'd known for a long while that was where he wanted to end up but he didn't have someone else to think about then. Now he had a girlfriend to think about, things would change. He'd be gone for training for a while, his base would be different and a lot further away. Ultimately, he knew it would mean less time with her, a fact that had bothered him deeply since the day before after his Commanding Officer put his paperwork through for him. He was eligible now to try out, had his CO’s blessing and approval, had his fucking backing. But he'd been tying himself in knots over it because of how it would change things with them. 

It had been a hard choice for him to settle on, despite it being his dream for a while, because he didn't want to hurt her, didn't want to upset her, didn't want the relationship to fall apart with more distance and time between them. He wanted this though, he really fucking wanted this and it felt like his entire military career had been building up to this moment for him. He'd try and convince her and if she still wasn't happy about it, then he'd give it all up. Of course he would, he'd give up anything if she asked him to. But he would plead his case first because he did genuinely want this. And even though it would be rough going with all the changes, he knew they could make it work. He'd always make it work when it came to her. 

“Isn't that where they simulate torture?!” She asked mortified, brows pinching together. He wondered how the fuck she knew that, what she'd been reading. He was well aware of RTI training and it wasn’t something he was exactly looking forward to but he’d put in the fucking work because he was good at what he did.

“Yeah… it is,” he sighed, not wanting to lie to her.

“Simon…” She started, a panicked edge to her tone that softened his hard lump of a heart.

“I'll be fine, love, they're not gonna kill me. It's just to make sure you can take it, to weed out the weak ones. And I'm anythin' but weak,” he replied firmly, raising a brow at her. 

He knew it wasn't that she thought he was weak, knew it wasn't that she didn't believe in him. It was just the idea of him going through something horrible like that cut her bleeding gold heart in half. She cared about him, soft hearted sweetheart she was, and she didn't like the idea of him being hurt in any way. He could see she wanted to protest, wanted to confess her true feelings on the matter as her blue eyes swirled like twin stormy seas. She didn't though. She schooled her face, eyes glued to his chest where she toyed with the fabric of his t-shirt. 

“And you're sure?” She asked him, dragging her eyes to his face. The heaviness that looked back at him weighed him down as he nodded.

“I'm sure. Been wantin’ this for years,” he confessed but it felt like it left a bad taste in his mouth, saw the look that rapidly passed across her face. 

He hadn't meant to say it the way it came out but he knew his words would burrow deep in her insecure brain. Knew she realised he'd wanted this since before she was even in his miserable life and he knew she wouldn't protest it now. Felt a bit like manipulation to him despite that it hadn't been intended. Knowing she was soft for him, weak like he was for her. Knowing that she cared enough to not want to take his dreams away. But he didn't like the idea of his words twisting her arm like that, didn't like the idea of her once again putting others first and herself last ‘cause she thought that was how it should be. 

“If you really don't want me to, then I won't. You'll always come first, Charlotte, you need to know that,” he insisted sincerely and he meant every word of it. Fuck, if she told him to leave the army full stop and get a fucking office job like a monkey in a suit he'd do it for her. She looked away from him, licking her lower lip as she shook her head.

“You know I’d never ask you to do that,” she started with a frown and he did know but he still needed her to know. “How… how will it affect us?” she asked him carefully, still unable to look at him and he hated the wall it felt like she’d put up. He massaged her hips, watching her sadly as he tried to summon the words.

“Honestly, I dunno yet. I’ll have to leave for selection which takes about five weeks but then… if I’m selected… I’ll have to go through a lot of trainin’... I’ll be gone for most of the year,” he admitted and her face crumpled as she looked down quickly, her hands balling into fists with his shirt. She let out a shaky breath and it felt like someone had lodged a stone the size of his fist in his throat seeing her this way.

“Where will your new base be?” she asked in a whisper and he frowned, his heart thudding dully against his ribs.

“Herefordshire,” he answered. It was just over two hours away and while it didn't seem like much it still meant less time with her. If he stayed here and not on base then he’d have to get up much earlier to get there and he’d be home two hours late every night. It would be worth it though, he knew it would. He hadn't been away from her properly since his deployment back at the start of their relationship and he was glad that even though he’d be away longer, she at least had Tommy, Beth and his mum this time.

“When will you be going?” she asked him, eyes glued to his chest.

“January 7th,” he murmured and she nodded, taking a few deep breaths. 

“I… I won’t be able to contact you there, will I?” she asked knowingly and a deep ache formed in his chest at her words. When he'd released that himself it had been a hard pill to swallow but the SAS was highly classified which meant there would be no contact at all, that also went for any deployments he went on. 

“No, love,” he lamented. He didn't know what else to say, didn't know how to make this better for her as she sat there looking like she was trying to sort through her thoughts and feelings. He knew it was a lot to take in, a lot to spring on her, especially when it meant he’d be gone in only a couple of months. She looked so sad and it broke his heart. 

She didn't say anything more, just moved to lay her head on his shoulder and while his heart was heavy, he was glad for the closeness. He wrapped his arms around her, a hand cradling her head and playing with her soft hair. The quietness wasn't pleasant and it felt like it was suffocating him. After a long while, she seemed to have gathered herself enough as she sat up once again, looking at him now. A shot of fear ricocheted through him, suddenly panicked she was about to say she was leaving him.

“I love you,” she murmured softly and instantly eased his worries. He melted, dark eyes gazing up at her affectionately as he gave her a sad smile and tucked her hair behind her ear.

“I love you too, more than I could put into words,” he confessed. Relief flooded him when she smiled, as if he’d just witnessed one of the seven wonders of the world. 

“I’m… I’m upset… just because I worry about you and I'll miss you. But… I am proud of you. I don't really know what you have to do to even go for this but I know it isn't easy. I know you’ll pass it all with flying colours,” she said sincerely, her hands smoothing up his chest. 

Her words made his throat clog up, a warm emotion settling deep into his bones. Her approval, her belief in him, it was something he hadn't even known he’d craved from her, yet having it now meant more than his own CO telling him he knew he’d pass. He smiled at her, eyes shining with emotion as he cupped her cheek, watching as she leaned into his touch. 

“I know you’d never ask, but I’d give up everythin’ for you, Lottie and I hope you know that. You… You’re the most important person in my life and there isn’t a fuckin’ thing I wouldn’t do if you asked me to,” he blurted and her eyes widened a fraction, a pretty pink blush dusting her cheeks. 

“I hope you know that I feel the same,” she uttered softly and deep down he did know it because she was allowing him to go off chasing his dream even though it meant he’d be gone for almost a year with no contact. 

He gripped her jaw, pulling her down for a slow and gentle kiss. He tried to put all of his feelings into the kiss, all his love, his appreciation, his gratitude. She kissed him back, melting into him and he soaked her up like a greedy sponge. He had no idea how he was going to cope so long without her but then again, he’d be going through hell so his mind would be pretty preoccupied. 

A week passed by in a blink and at first, it had felt a little off. She tried her best to seem normal, act happy for him, but he could tell it was still playing over in her mind. He’d started to worry things wouldn't ever go back to normal, that he’d somehow broken the relationship and he didn't know how to fix it. Luckily though, as the week wore on, things started settling back to normal and he figured maybe she just needed time to wrap her head around it. Hell, he didn't think he’d fully wrapped his head around it yet and maybe he wouldn't until the day he was fucking off for almost a year, but he tried not to think about that. 

They’d had a pretty normal Friday night. He’d met her at her work, they’d gone home together and they cooked tea together, this time some cheeseburgers. After that, they’d snuggled up and watched some shitty TV and then went off to bed, knackered from a full day's work. It was such a simple routine yet it became one he craved. It was 2.56 am when his phone started ringing and he sat up like a shot, eyes darting around for a moment before he reached over and grabbed it from the bedside cupboard. Tommy’s name flashed on the screen and a sudden swell of dread smacked him in the face. There was no reason for his brother to call at his time, not unless something bad happened. What if something happened to mum?

“What is it?” he asked quickly as he pressed answer and Tommy snorted down the line.

“Wow, hi to you too, arse wipe,” he muttered playfully and the tone instantly made Simon relax. He wiped a weary hand over his face and shook his head.

“Any reason why you're callin’ at this time?” he bit out and Tommy took a deep breath.

“Beth went into labour last night, little Joseph was born an hour ago,” he breathed and Simon sat up straighter, an emotional warmth settling over him.

“Fuckin’ hell… is he… is he alright? Beth alright?” he asked, a smile tugging at his lips that he couldn't have fought off even if he wanted. 

“Yeah, yeah, both really good. Labour was tough. Women are crazy, I tell you. I ain’t pushin’ something that size out of my fuckin’ fanny,” Tommy laughed and Simon shook his head incredulously as he breathed a chuckle.

“Good job you don’t fuckin’ have one then, innit?” he asked wryly and Tommy laughed down the line again. “You told mum yet?” he asked curiously.

“Told her when Beth started having the contractions, she’s been here this whole time,” Tommy chuckled and Simon smiled to himself. Didn't surprise him in the least, as if she’d miss the birth of her first grandchild. The line went silent for a moment and Simon didn't need to see his brother to pick up on his change in breathing, the shift that suddenly happened.

“I can't believe I’m a dad. I mean… I knew it was coming for nine months but… now he's here it just feels so real. What if I mess up? What if I end up like da-” he started anxiously rambling and Simon cut him off right away.

“You won't be. You're nothin’ like that fuckin’ cunt. You're gonna be a good dad, Tommy, just like you're a good husband. I’m happy for you,” he murmured, trying his hardest to stop his voice from wavering. His baby brother was all grown up and had a kid of his own. 

“That really means a lot from you, Si,” Tommy whispered and Simon swallowed thickly. 

“Do you want us to come down then?” he asked, glancing at the clock before at Charlotte who was beginning to stir, her eyes fluttering open blearily.

“No, not yet. Visiting hours aren't until 10 am so, come down then. I’ll text you all the details and stuff,” Tommy explained and Simon nodded despite him not being able to see. His eyes were on Lottie as she yawned, looking at him questioningly with her cute and sleepy face.

“Alright then, I’ll let you go. I’ll see you later,” Simon murmured and after Tommy said his goodbyes, he hung up.

“Who was that?” Charlotte asked sleepily.

“Tommy. Beth went into labour last night, Joseph’s here,” he smiled, pride filling him up like a fucking balloon. 

Her eyes went big like saucers and a beaming grin spread across her face. Before he knew what was happening, she was up, squealing something like ‘oh my god’ before diving off the bed. Problem was that her foot got stuck in the quilt and she hit the floor with a loud oof. He didn't know whether he should be worried or laugh. 

“Fuckin’ hell. You alright?” he asked in amusement, peering over the bed at her crumpled up form tangled in the blankets. The look she gave him was scathing and he couldn't help but laugh.

“Aren’t you excited to go and see him?” she asked him, giving him an accusing stare.

“‘Course I am but we can’t go yet anyway, visitin’ hours aren't until ten,” he explained, reaching out and grabbing her before hoisting her back into the bed. She flopped against him like she had no bones and he sunk back into the bed with her sprawled out on top of him.

 “I hurt my arse,” she whined, her lower lip jutting out in a little pout. His large hands smoothed down her back, cupping her arse cheeks and giving them a cheeky rub.

“Want me to kiss it better, love?” he asked impishly and she snorted, shaking her head.

“You wish,” she muttered and he hummed in agreement. He didn't stop massaging her arse cheeks and she relaxed even more on him.

“Should get some more sleep, yeah? We’ll go see ‘em in the mornin’ when it's time,” he suggested and she shook her head.

“I'm not tired,” she mumbled and he knew she was a barefaced liar because she could barely keep her eyes open. 

He huffed a laugh, not saying anything and allowing her to fall back asleep on her own. Didn't take long. It took him a little longer with how excited he was. He didn't think he’d be feeling this way when his nephew was born. Not because he hadn't been excited or anything, but this was a little overwhelming. He had no idea how Tommy himself must be feeling right about now if this was how he felt. 

Eventually he did fall asleep and then when they got up in the morning, the pair of them were full of anxious and excited energy. They were both dressed and ready to go by 9 am, a little early but Lottie was adamant she wanted to get gifts on the way. She’d gotten Beth some pretty white roses, interspersed between some baby’s breath. She’d bought Joseph a little dinosaur teddy and she didn't need to get Tommy anything because Simon already had that covered in the form of a cigar. He’d bought it a few months ago in preparation. When he asked Charlotte if he should get his mother something, they’d decided it would be a nice thing to do so he got her a mug that had the words 'world's best grandma’ on it. They topped it all off with a blue baby boy balloon and Simon had to force her to get going before she bought the entire shop. 

They arrived at the hospital at 10:06 am, checking in at the desk and then went to the room they were given. He was a little overwhelmed from the second he stepped foot in the room. His mum came to him first, wrapping him in a hug as she cried, blubbering about something, he couldn't understand her through her tears and they only got worse when he gave her the mug. Tommy was next as his mum latched onto Charlotte and Simon hugged his tearful brother, slapping him on the back roughly to compensate for his own damp eyes. 

“Congrats, Tom,” he murmured and Tommy grinned at him when he pulled away and he handed his brother the cigar. Tommy’s eyes lit up and he wound up with another hug for good measure. When he glanced around for Charlotte, she was no longer in his mother's grasp but was now next to Beth, giving her the flowers as she cooed over the baby in Beth's arms. Simon walked over, eyes glued to the tiny bundle Beth was holding and she looked up with a smile, eyes knackered, and he leaned down to kiss her cheek.

“Fuckin’ hell, he’s tiny, ain’t he?” he asked quietly, not wanting to bother the small boy. 

“He’s a baby, Simon, he’s supposed to be tiny,” his mother piped up from across the room and he levelled a look at her to tell her she wasn't funny. Tommy disagreed with him though as he snorted. 

“You should hold him,” Tommy declared excitedly and Simon could do little else but be shoved into the armchair beside the bed and then a baby was being placed in his arms. 

Tommy mumbled to himself as if reciting steps he’d been told, rearranging Simon’s arms to cradle the baby better. He was mumbling something about the head and a soft spot but Simon wasn't listening, he was staring at the baby. He was blinking up at him slowly, totally unbothered by the large man who was holding him and Simon felt a lump form in his throat as he smiled down at him. 

“Hey, little man,” he whispered, touching the tiniest hand he’d ever laid eyes on and the boy wrapped it around his finger.

“He’s adorable,” Lottie beamed, hovering next to him as she leaned down to get a good look at him. He looked up at her then and her soft eyes warmed him right up.

“You wanna hold him, sweetheart?” he asked her, still keeping his voice low. Her eyes widened and she stood up straighter, shaking her head frantically.

“Oh… no… I-” she rambled but Beth cut her off.

“You should hold him, Charlotte, you're his auntie,” she smirked and Lottie turned to her.

“What if I… What if I drop him?” she asked, sounding mortified. Tommy laughed at her question but Simon could tell she was deadly serious. 

“You won’t drop him, you can sit here,” Simon stood at a snail’s pace, terrified of dropping the boy himself. 

Once he was up, he gestured with his head and Lottie obediently sat down. Tommy came over then and Simon was glad because while he could handle guns, bullets and explosives, babies were a whole other fucking thing. Tommy took Joseph and gave Charlotte the same treatment, arranging her arms in a certain way. He could tell by her face that she was observing his movements carefully, as if trying to memorise them. Tommy placed Joseph in her arms before smiling triumphantly and moving away. 

Simon was helpless, unable to not look at her as she held the tiny boy so gently. She smiled down at him, a smile he’d never seen before which shocked him because he thought he'd seen them all, but this one was new. Reserved only for this special little boy who looked up at her curiously. She swiped a tender finger down his small face, eyes sparkling brightly as she watched him in awe. She looked enamoured with him, so full of love that he felt ready to burst at the seams watching her. 

A thought struck him then that startled the shit out of him. One where she was holding a different baby. One with blonde hair and dark brown eyes, one that was half her and half him. He’d never thought about kids before, been sure he wouldn't have any and didn't have the desire to either. But then again, he’d felt the same about relationships too, hadn't he? 

She’d thrown all that right out of the window and now she was doing it again because as he looked at her, he felt a deep yearning inside of him for something he never thought he wanted. Made him ache for it so badly he almost forgot how to breathe. Not yet, of course not yet, it was far too soon and he’d be fucking off to the SAS soon enough. But one day… maybe. He hoped.

[crowfeatherquill]

Hindsight

“If…if you had the chance to end the Blights. Would you?”

Alistair looked up at his oldest friend, backlit by the fire in his private rooms. Elyon had changed considerably in the years since the fifth Blight. His frame had filled out and his freckles had multiplied during his time abroad. At the same time, though, he seemed just as tired as he ever had. Moreso, even, at times.

“I dunno if you remember this, but I actually did end a Blight once-upon-a-time,” he said, hoping to coerce a rare smile out of his companion, “You were even there, I think. It’s difficult to remember -- everything that happened before all this King business gets a little fuzzy these days.”

He trailed off when he saw that Elyon hadn’t taken his offer of humor -- just turned to the side to glance over his shoulder at the crackling fire.

“I didn’t say Blight, singular,” he said, and his tone was unsettlingly grim. “I mean all of them. If you could put a stop to it, forever, would you?”

Alistair frowned. This wasn’t the first time that Elyon had posed a strange hypothetical just to see what he would say, but they had never seemed to weigh on him so heavily. There was something…different about this one that made him want to pay it more mind.

“I mean. An end to the Blights doesn’t seem so bad on the surface, but I doubt it’d be as simple as asking the Darkspawn really really nicely, would it?”

Elyon sighed -- an immensely world-weary sound that made Alistair itch to ask what had happened at Vigil’s Keep. It had been over a year and they still hadn’t talked about it -- not in a way that mattered, anyway. Any time Alistair had tried to broach the subject, Elyon had found a convenient bit of Warden Commander dreck to bury himself in and stopped responding to missives until Alistair inevitably gave up and let the subject drop.

“How much would you do? If someone told you there was a chance that you could put an end to all of it, how far would you be willing to go? If it meant you might save hundreds of people…”

“Might save?” Alistair leaned forward onto his elbows, wishing Elyon would look at him so he could read his face better, “So it’s not a guarantee then.”

“Well. No. It’s not.” Elyon reached up to fiddle with his Warden’s Oath, twisting the vial between his fingers. “Does it matter, though? Could you live with yourself, if you passed up the chance to spare countless lives because it wasn’t a sure thing?”

“I think it does. Lot less I’m willing to risk on a guess than on a certainty.”

Even at the angle his head was turned, Alistair could see Elyon’s brow crease into a scowl.

“You mean to tell me that you wouldn’t bother to try sparing all those families the cost of losing somebody unless it was guaranteed to work? Doesn’t sound much like the Alistair I know.”

Alistair sighed, tried to think of a way to divert course away from the nerve he’d so clearly struck, and found none. In the absence of other options, he pressed forward. It was a familiar feeling -- advancing into a mess he could see coming from miles away, resolved to do whatever he could to clean it up, even if he didn’t think he stood a very good chance.

“Am I putting an end to all war while I’m at it?”

Elyon’s frown shifted just slightly, away from anger and toward confusion.

“What?”

“Well, stopping Blights is one thing, but it seems a bit like you’re talking about trying to stop people from dying tragically at all, which. Well. That’s a lot more involved, isn’t it? Even if we never see another Blight, there’ll still be wars. Obviously, you know, I’ll be doing my best to keep everybody away from each other’s throats -- fabulous King that I am -- but I can’t pretend like it’s always going to work out that way. ‘Specially with all those other royals out there, making decisions and such. Ah- and, plagues. Those just happen sometimes, not much I can really do about those either, would I be trying to stop plagues, too? And hunting accidents? Any messy business with frightened livestock you think I’d-”

“Alright.” Elyon snapped, “Enough. I get it. Forget I asked.”

“People die. El.” Alistair reached across the table to put his hand on Elyon’s arm. Elyon seemed to startle, and for the first time, he turned to look at Alistair fully. “I’m not sure where you got this idea in your head that it’s your job to save everyone in Thedas, but it isn’t. You do what you can. We all do. And that’s fine.”

For a moment, Elyon’s eyes flickered over Alistair’s face, never quite landing for too long in any one spot. But it was only a moment. And then they were brimming with tears.

“It always feels like I could be doing more. How- how am I supposed to know whether I’m doing enough if it never seems-”

“Hey.” Alistair shook Elyon’s arm gently, cutting him off. “If you let yourself go on like that, it’s never going to feel like you’ve done enough. Not until you’re dead. You’re so concerned about perfect strangers losing their loved ones, and whether there’s anything you could do to stop it, but how do you think we’d all feel if you dropped dead? You can spare your family too, you know.”

Elyon’s tears spilled over, and for a long moment, he simply looked at Alistair, cheeks wet, breathing just the slightest bit unsteady. Eventually, he turned back to the fire. He didn’t say anything else, but his shoulders seemed to drop a few degrees. He relaxed a little into his chair.

Alistair kept his hand on Elyon’s arm. He wasn’t sure whether it was because he thought it would actually help, or because he couldn’t think of anything else to do.

[beantothemax]

Looking at him now, that was not the man Olberic once loved. Erhardt's will to fight, will to see another day had all but dissappeared. He fought only to protect a desert town, half hoping to die in combat.

The Erhardt that Olberic knew and cherished fought to see a new dawn. He spoke of a bright future with stars in his eyes.

Perhaps that's what revenge did to him. The anger never abandoning him, only finding a man person to fall upon and destroy, even if it was himself.

"Draw your weapon, Erhardt! For warriors like us, there is no other way!"

Without a word, Erhardt followed the command. He held his sword high, staring at the man he still once loved.

It was strange how time changed you. He once wanted to abandon his quest for revenge to live with this man. Olberic was still his only chance to feel at peace, but now his definition of peace was different.

"Of course, let us fight!" he said.

The duel was short lived. Erhardt's grip on his blade loosened till the fifth time their swords clashed. It clattered to the ground and Olberic struck him in the chest.

As he fell the ground, he could only smile, satisfied that his life would be ended by the only man who had the right. He couldn't fall to a lizardman or mercenary, they did not matter. Only Olberic, the man he had hurt beyond repair, could end his life. Only Olberic deserved such satisfaction.

"So? Was it everything you wanted?" Erhardt smirked.

Olberic sat beside him and pushed the hair from his face. He caressed his cheek as tears welled up in his eyes.

"I wish things were different, I wish we could've spent our lives together," he cried.

"That'd be nice, we could have a house on the countryside and keep a farm. Just the two of us, no politics or war to seperate us," Erhardt agreed.

Blood stained his lips when he coughed. Olberic held him as tight as he could while he sobbed.

Why couldn't thing have been different? Why did they have to suffer when worse people still lived and thrived?

Erhardt coughed again before muttering, "when I said I dreamt of dying in your arms, I thought it'd be different."

Olberic could only cry as Erhardt laughed at his own unpleasant joke.

"I-I know."

"I'll see you soon, my love," Erhardt smiled.

My love. How wonderful it felt to be called that again.

The life left the traitor and his lover laid him on the ground. The color drained from his eyes as his body grew cold. And yet, Olberic couldn't let go of his hand. Not yet. He didn't want to.

But he did. The tears poured like a waterfall as he muttered endless messy apologies.

Through his tears, he spotted his sword on the ground. It still bore Erhardt's blood.

Soon, it would have his too.

a small collection of lines from this fic that make me want to crawl into a hole and scream

PIE I AM SHAKING YOU RAPIDLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!AAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!!!! GGGGGAAAHHHHH!!!!

I saw that it was an olberic fic and thought ‘hey how bad could it be?’ and then you plunge a dagger directly into my chest

olberic about how erhardt has lost all purpose in his life and how he half hopes that he dies protecting wellspring… the fact that erhardt fell so quickly, and how he’s happy that his life was ended by the sole man who had the right… their whole talk after the fight where..! where they talk about the peaceful life they could’ve had!!!!! pie I want to cry!!!!!!!!!!!!

OLBERIC SAYKNG AG THE END THT ERHARDT’S SWORD WILL SOON HAVE HIS BLOOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HE JUST WANTS TO BE WITH THE ONE MAN HE LOVES!!!!!! EVEN IF IT MEANS HE HAS TO DIE HE’LL DO ANYTHING TO BE WITH HIM!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAA

[forestdragoncat]

Galfrey and Irabeth (and, i think, Crusaders as a whole?) deserve better :') Makes me kinda sad that my KC is not on very good terms with the queen, and did not forgive her in the end, but she has her (roleplaying) reasons.

Would still 100x times choose them (and Iomedae!) over Hellknights, Nocticula or Areelu, no matter how "nice" the latter are to KC specifically.

Like, everyone like to ridicule Galfrey that it's "the FIFTH Crusade" already, and how imcompetent she must be, but the thing is - without her and her allies there wouldn't be ANY Crusades at all! If they were as bad at their job as some players (often the same ones who praise Hellknights) claim, there wouldn't be any Mendev already, and the Worldwound would have been whole Avistan's problem (and we can see how "good" the rest of the countries are at handling said problem in one of the tabletop's versions of "bad ending").

So i think it's safe to say that Crusaders managed as good as non-mythic mortals can in holding the threat back for a freaking 100 years. They weren't perfect by any means, and neither is Galfrey, but still!

And, like, Hellknights like to talk big, but... What are their achievements in the Fifth Crusade specifically? I don't talk about those that are in collaboration with KC's army, but about the "independent" ones. They took this one mighty fort in demon-infected lands, and hold it good, and send their squads on missions from it, but... what are those missions? Maybe there are some Crusade management cards that i missed, but the only other instances in the game where we meet hellknights "in the wild" are either

1) We need to help them, otherwise they end up captured by gargoyles (Regill's recruitment. And why didn't they commit a glorified suicide to avoid giving their enemies intel or torture material, like they did with those wounded soldiers, huh?)

or

2) They are, sans the runaway slaves, all dead from the giant demonic worm's attack (Sosiel's quest). Quess those were the wrong Hellknights, and they made the wrong tactics! Regill seems to agree.

For example, in Azata's path you sometimes can meet your Free Crusaders in different locations, fighting demons. And succeeding! Maybe there are similar events with HK, but i forgot?

Like, where are they when Drezen is under siege (in Fifth Chapter)? Isn't it strategically valuable to everyone here, and not just crusaders? But there is only Yaker (if you invited him to be the ambassador or something), and after that (if he is alive) he even defends you (and crusaders too, sort of?) on the trial. Guess his opinion changed when he actually spend time with people he previously liked to bash?

[Off Top, but Yaker is actually the only reason my KC ended up saving Regill's squad in the first place. And, unlike with Regill, she even somewhat likes him]

There are some cool Hellknight moments, of course, but somehow they all happen when HK and Crusaders are working together. It almost looks like cooperation with your allies is actually important, and is not to be discarded easily!

And it's funny (not really), when Sosiel is considered some kind of "whiny kid", and Regill as a hyper-competent commander, but then Sosiel's results at the Leper's Smile are actually better than Regill's :) Woops.

(Sosiel, too, needs more love 🌈❤🐦)

Replaying WotR with all the DLC, I forgot how full of shit Regill is about the rest of the Crusades.

What prompted this is his nonsense about Irabeth. He acts as if she had no achievements to her name so he can pretend that she's unqualified when she has a PTSD breakdown before Drezen - as if she had not gone through Kenabres, or hadn't rebuilt the Eagle Watch from scratch to the point where it's one of the most competent forces (more competent than the Hellknights, TBH: at least the Eagle Watch doesn't have to threaten every soldier with execution for the slightest infraction)

I mean look at it - 'her first serious challenge'? Is Hellknight intelligence so incompetent that you don't even know her career before returning to Mendev? Did you forget that she and Anevia rebuilt the Eagle Watch from scratch after uncovering Baphomet's infiltration? Or do you not know that Kenabres survived because Irabeth managed to weld together a cohesive fighting force at the Defender's Heart and that the plan to take back the Grey Garrison was entirely hers?

Irabeth is no wet-behind-the-ears recruit thrown into high command without being tested: she's a veteran commander who's been fighting the Worldwound longer than anyone in the tent besides Anevia and Queen Galfrey (whom the narrative also maligns, I'll get to that in a minute). Irabeth has been fighting for high stakes: Mendev dies if they fail. If the Hellknights' token expeditions die? They lose some lances, but none of their core territories are threatened and they can easily shrug it off because the Crusades are basically Avistan's dumping ground for undesirables anyways.

This is a perfect example of the sheer arrogance of the Hellknights. Especially since Regill admits that just a glimpse of what happens in the Lost Chapel is almost enough to make him puke. Irabeth lived it and watched good people die in a horrible manner and be transformed into monsters against their will.

Irabeth isn't a coward. She's dealing with unrecognzied PTSD given how fast the march on Drezen usually occurs after Lost Chapel, and it picked the absolute worst moment to manifest... especially if the KC is an incompetent leader who constantly berates her and makes her a scapegoat for other people's failures.

It's not like Irabeth is asking to be dismissed - if you warn her that you'll bench her, she's terrified of being left behind to be the one who gets to mourn everyone that dies. She's still in the fight, she's just conscious that the odds are against them after how badly the gargoyle ambush went.

Galfrey, as an aside, acts as a leader should: she works to reassure Irabeth and console her. Galfrey has suffered immensely under the pressure of defending Golarion from the Worldwound with basically no support (Avistan's nations more or less uses the Crusades as a way to dispose of undesirables) - she knows what Irabeth is feeling. And the narrative did Galfrey so dirty by not giving her more moments like this - Galfrey's presence should have been an auto-success for reassuring Irabeth even if the KC still got to do a reassurance option even if only to give Irabeth an extra and much-needed verbal hug.

It's telling how much the narrative had to bend over backwards to make the Hellknights seem competent rather than a bunch of arrogant pricks who are trying to take credit for holding back the Worldwound while offering little actually useful. I think the most useful thing they do in Act II is give you another option to get at the giants at Drezen, everything else is them either being counterproductive, needing the crusaders they sneer at to save their asses, or volunteering to be vescavor fodder because their egos wouldn't let them stay behind while those best equipped to tackle the threat deal with it... and get the credit.

[messers-moony]

My Everything | S.B

Paring: Sirius Black X Wife!Reader

Summary: When five marauders goes to two within the instance of a day. Two children are left without fathers and a wife is left without a husband.

Request: Sirius Black x Wife!reader reuniting and she's Remus sister

A/N: My first Harry Potter request. I got so excited to see this in my inbox and I hope it isn’t the last :)

Perhaps it was the feeling of betrayal she felt when he was finally gone. The fact that everything he’d ever said was a lie. She couldn’t help but think maybe his vows were a lie too. The five Marauders were now two. Only two left. How did this even happen? 

The unbreakable group of five. James Potter, the so-called leader of them all. The mom friend who always made sure everyone was okay and cared for. Sirius Black, the second in command. The mischievous, charismatic troublemaker who was always in detention. Peter Pettigrew, the outcast of them all. The shy and naive boy who gave them all a sense of logic. Remus Lupin, the intelligent and solace of them all. The only boy smart enough not to get caught. Y/n Lupin, the creative and sneaky one. The only one who could sneak and out of the Potions cabinet without Slughorn noticing. 

Now it was just the Lupin twins who, as Sirius called them, the “Linking Lupins.” It was hard in the beginning. First-year was difficult. All they had was each other. Lyall hadn’t really been accepting in the first place, but Hope was always blissfully unaware of her son's problem. All she knew was that he had to go away once a month. Lyall cursed himself out every night that Remus went away, cursing himself for letting this happen to his son. 

The cries of his baby girl begging for her brother. The wails of Y/n pleading for Remus not to go away. Not wanting to let go of him, hearing Remus from inside the room in the basement begging to be let out. Sobbing, crying for his mum or his dad to let him out, praying that the wolf doesn’t take over. Whimpering at how much it hurts the way his bones dislocate and relocate back together in a new way. 

So yeah, first year was challenging. But Dumbledore had a safe place for him to go every evening of the full moon, and Y/n would be there when he woke up every time. Remus relished in the way her hands felt in his. They were so soft compared to his calloused ones. So gentle compared to his often rough movements. Small compared to big. She was everything he wasn’t, and he was happy about that. 

James Potter was the first to talk to them with his flamboyant nature. His eyes were the lightest of browns with spotted glittering green. His smile was perfect and straight. How could someone’s smile be that way at the ripe age of eleven? Despite his aura screaming, “I’m the popular kid, and you’re the loser,” he was actually quite nice. 

Upon looking at James, the Lupin twins both thought of trouble. They remembered the popular kids from their muggle school before this one, how they used to belittle Remus for his scars and how Y/n used to push them away. So, forgive them for being a little cautious around him. It didn’t help that James’ counterpart was the opposite of them both. 

Sirius Black, lanky and confident. This boy had no boundaries and absolutely no limits. If he wanted it, he was going to get it. His eyes were the purest iron, and his smile was white like quartz. Hair black as coal and personality as gregarious as the color wheel. His style was toned back, but his character could’ve put the color wheel to shame with how bright he was. Sirius Black could’ve been the antonym to Remus and Y/n Lupin. 

During second year they found another boy who was being beaten by Slytherins for his scarlet and golden robes. He was stocky, and it seems that he was pretty timid. His blond hair was disheveled, and his blue eyes full of fright. Y/n had stepped in front of him just like she had Remus from the bullies back in muggle school. Her wand was held tight in her grip as she stared at them. 

“What are you gonna do, Loony Lupin?” One of them snarled. 

“Aguamenti.” 

The Slytherins were now covered in water. Damp like they had all taken a shower with their clothes on. Their black robes turned a shade darker. The evergreen accents turned olive, and the silver turned into grey. The main Slytherin boy gritted his teeth, and his icy eyes stared into Y/n’s e/c ones. 

“You’ll pay for that.”

Y/n pocketed her wand in her robes, smiling sweetly, “I’m sure I will. Now, run along before I do something worse.”

They didn’t want to obey, but they also didn’t want to stay in that situation. The Slytherins scurried off like dogs following their owner's command. Y/n fixed her hair with her hand and turned around. She was offering her soft hand to the boy who was frozen, shocked, staring at her. Hesitantly he gripped her hand, allowing her to pull him up. She was only slightly shorter than him. 

“Y/n Lupin.” She introduced, “You are?”

“Pe- Peter Pettigrew.”

Y/n bowed playfully, “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Peter.” 

“Pleasure.” Peter muttered shyly as her group of friends approached. 

Remus swung an arm around her shoulders, “You’re bloody brilliant, you know?”

“Our star.” Sirius swooned jokingly as Y/n punched his shoulder, causing him to pout, “Who’s this?” James queried, looking at Peter, who cowered under the hazel-eyed gaze. 

“Boys,” Y/n smiled brightly, “This is our new member of the Marauders. Peter Pettigrew.”

Peter fiddled with his hands anxiously, “New- New member?”

“Mhm!” Y/n hummed, “You’re our new addition.”

James smiled, “Any friend of Y/n’s is a friend of ours. Welcome, Peter.”

From then it went from four to five. Peter never really stopped thanking them for letting him in. For the first time, Peter felt at home, and it was thanks to Y/n. He realized how kind she was, how creative she was. It was so strange. The group was so different, like extraordinarily diverse, yet they worked together so well. Y/n and Remus seemed to be the brains of things. James and Sirius seemed to be the trouble makers. Peter just did his own thing but always contributed. 

In fifth year Remus started to worry. Everyone was so secretive. They stopped hanging around as much, even his sister. It hurt. It really hurt to see them seeking around on the map that he and Y/n created together for the most part. It wasn’t until during the winter break did Y/n finally realize what they were doing affected them. 

Remus barely cried. Or at least that’s what people made it out to seem. Remus actually cried a decent amount. He was snuggled up in his room. His blanket encasing him, and his arms held around his pillow tightly, gripping it as if it’d leave him like he felt everyone else was. His heart felt broken. Y/n was outside his door, hearing his soft cries, and gently knocked on the door. 

“Rem. Can I come in, please?”

He didn’t say anything, so she just let herself in. The door closed behind her with a click, and she saw her tall brother curled up into the tightest ball with silver streams on his cheeks. Y/n sat in front of him and rubbed the side of his arm. Remus’ eyes continue to release water like a dam that had been broken. He couldn’t swallow it no matter how hard he tried. 

“What’s wrong, Rem?”

Remus didn’t say anything. He just dug his head deeper into the pillow he was holding. Y/n’s hand made its way to his sandy-colored hair. She was scratching at the scalp and smoothing his hair away from his face keeping the strands from getting wet. Her hand hesitantly reached his cheek and wiped away the tears that kept falling. 

She sighed, “Remus, please.”

“You’re- you’re gon’ leave me, aren’ you.” Remus choked. 

“Leave you?” Y/n questioned softly, afraid if she raised her voice any more, it’d make things worse, “I wouldn’t leave you if I was given a chance, Remmy.”

He sniffled, “You- you haven’ been a- around.”

“I know.” Y/n soothed, caressing his cheek, “But there’s an explanation for it. James, Sirius, Peter, and I have been distant. We know that. But there’s a reason for it. You’ll find out soon.”

Remus’ eyes met his sister's warm e/c ones, “Please don’t leave me.”

“Never.” 

He smiled gently. The corners of his lips barely curled, but she knew it was there. Remus had fallen asleep with his sister's hand in his hair. When she was sure he was sleeping, Y/n left the bedroom, allowing him to sleep peacefully. Then she wrote a letter to James where she knew Sirius was staying too. 

One more week, Y/n thought. One more week of this Mandrake leaf in their mouths until they could be done with this. 

It took another month before it was ready. Before they were ready. They were in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom when they started. James started first. When he turned into a stag, they all began laughing. James turned back, pouting. Sirius turned second into a huge black dog. Y/n smiled and petted his head. 

“Very fitting, Sirius.”

Sirius turned back, letting Peter turn next. He was so tiny that Sirius almost stepped on him. James and Y/n sniggered at their rat friend. Next was Y/n, who turned into a graceful cat. Her fur was black, and her eyes were a striking e/c. James smirked and nudged Sirius. 

“Matching animagus’, eh?”

Sirius scowled, “Cats and dogs don’t match.”

Y/n turned back, “Don’t they?”

“Ready for this full moon?” James asked them all. 

“‘Course!”

“Yep!”

“Can’t wait.”

That full moon was better than them all. Remus had people to join him. There was something that he noticed, though. Every time he’d get close to the cat, the dog would growl and stand in front of her. It was like the dog was protecting what was his. Y/n noticed it too. Every time Remus got close, Sirius stood in front of her, keeping him at a safe distance. 

It wasn’t until a quiet night in the Marauders dorm did Remus finally bring it up, “Sirius.”

“Remus.”

“How long?”

Sirius furrowed his eyebrows, “How long what?”

“You know,” Remus moved his hand in a circular motion for him to continue, “How long have you liked my sister?”

“Woah, Remus.” Sirius stated in shock, “That’s quite the accusation.”

Remus tilted his head, “Is it?”

“Yeah. It is.” Sirius replied, “Y/n is my friend. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“So, you not sleeping with any girls for the past year is just a coincidence?” Remus questioned knowingly, “You staring at her during class and parties is just on accident?”

Sirius’ cheeks went pink, “And it’s definitely a coincidence that you always hug her first after every Quidditch match.”

“Okay, fine, fine.” Sirius confessed, “I like Y/n. I have for a while.”

“So why haven’t you asked her out?”

“Excuse me?”

Remus shrugged, “Why haven’t you asked her out yet? You know she enjoys going to Honeydukes and the Three Broomsticks.”

“Mate, have you forgotten we’re talking about your sister?” Sirius asked, “Like your twin sister?”

“I know.” Remus replied, “She likes you too, you know.”

Sirius’ eyes were practically bulging out of his skull. How in the name of Merlin was Remus so calm about this? He said it so casually as if they were talking about the weather. Sirius expected Remus to get angry or throw a book at him. 

“Are you- Are you giving me permission to date your sister?”

“As long as you don’t hurt her, sure.”

Sirius hesitated before asking his next question, “Can you help me do it?”

Remus smirked, “Casanova of Hogwarts can’t ask out Y/n?”

“Please, Remus.” Sirius begged, “I really like her, and I don’t want to fuck this up.”

Remus snorted, “You always fuck things up.”

“That’s why I need you!” 

Remus just smirked triumphantly. 

“Pleaaaseeeeeee.”

“Alright, fine.” Remus relented, “Just be cool about it, yeah? Take her to Honeydukes and the Three Broomsticks. She’d enjoy that a lot. Maybe take her to Tomes and Scrolls.”

“You’re a lifesaver!” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Remus rolled his eyes, “Now shut up. ‘M tired.”

The following day Sirius and Y/n did go to Hogsmeade together. She was amazed when they went into Honeydukes together. She picked out some of her favorite sweets and some for Remus since the full moon was a week away. When she went to pay for it, Sirius pushed her hand away, paying for it himself. Y/n wouldn’t stop thanking him. 

Next, they went to Tomes and Scrolls. On any ordinary occasion, Sirius would’ve hated this. Truth be told, he wasn’t really a reader or a book person in general. But for her, he’d do absolutely anything. Y/n picked out some new books and began raving to Sirius about one in particular. So again, Sirius paid for them and told her to find a table in the Three Broomsticks. 

Sirius went to the area where the book she was raving about was found. He grabbed one for himself, planning to read and annotate it for her. Maybe he’d give it to her as a birthday gift or just a random gift. Nonetheless, he knew she’d love it, and Sirius would fall off a cliff if she asked him to. 

Inside he found her sitting with a hot chocolate and a butterbeer for himself. Sirius slid into the booth smiling at her. They talked about everything and anything. Sirius even went as far as to tell her some stuff about his family the other guys didn’t know about. He went on about how he envied Remus and her relationship wanting the same thing with Regulus. 

Sirius told her how he wanted his future to look. How many tattoos he wanted. Where he wanted to live. How many children he wanted. So on and so forth. He was so open and so honest it surprised her. Generally, if someone asked Sirius what he wanted his future to look at, he’d just shrug. Now he was spilling everything to her. 

It didn’t take long after that for them to become official. Remus smiled when she announced it. He was happy for her. Remus could see how happy Sirius made her, and for that, he was grateful that someone could take care of her in his absence. Y/n only wanted that for him too. One day she’d have a family, and Remus wouldn’t be her main priority. That scared her because, for all seventeen years of her life, it was just her and Remus. 

After graduating from Hogwarts, they got married. It wasn’t anything huge, especially with Voldemort on the rise, but it happened. James was Sirius’ best man, and Marlene was Y/n’s maid of honor. Remus walked Y/n down the aisle and gently kissed her cheek before letting her go. Seeing Sirius and Y/n get married made James overjoyed to marry Lily, but that would happen all in due time. 

So what was it that made her feel this way? Was it the betrayal? Was it the dishonesty? Was it the disloyalty? What was it in truth? The moment Sirius was locked away in Azkaban, everything changed. When Remus heard about it, she was his first stop. Inside he saw her with a baby on her lap. Their baby boy, just a year old. He was born only months before Harry. 

Little Perseus Sirius Black. Y/n’s pride and joy. He was everything to her. Remus had walked into the house seeing his broken sister holding her child close to her as he cried. Remus walked in and gently took the child from her arms, allowing her to lean on his shoulder as he held Perseus. The little boy smiled at the familiar face of his uncle. 

“Rem!” 

Remus smiled softly, “Hey, Perseus.”

It took a long time for Y/n to collect herself. Remus had taken a spot in the house since he couldn’t find a place by himself. Y/n worked at the ministry most days, and Remus would take care of her little troublemaker. As Perseus grew, he looked more and more like his mother. The same e/c eyes and h/c hair. The only thing that made him look like a Black was his defined body and facial structure. 

The sharp jawline, the defined nose, the straight cheekbones, the semi-hollow cheeks, and the pointed chin. His features were that of the Noble House of Black, yet he could’ve made his way to look like a Lupin even more. For a while, Y/n worked a lot. She was trying to keep her family afloat. But it wasn’t until Remus said he got a job offer at Hogwarts did she have to stop. Working for her felt like nothing. Every day she was worried about Perseus going to school. Especially with Sirius being out of Azkaban. 

The night that Remus saw Peter Pettigrew on the map, he knew something was wrong and sent Y/n and owl for her to come to Hogwarts. Without hesitation, she did. On the night of that full moon, she was also down in the Shrieking Shack, holding Harry close to her, not wanting him to get hurt. When everything got resolved, she cried. 

Y/n went home that night rethinking everything. A week later, Remus and Perseus returned home. She couldn’t remember holding Percy that tight ever. Y/n was just thankful that he was safe and he was home. That night that Y/n and Remus told Percy what really happened, why his father was never really in the picture. 

A year later is when Perseus finally met his father - well, that he can remember. He was fifteen now, going into his fifth year at Hogwarts when Y/n and Remus took him to Grimmauld Place 12. It felt foreign, and it felt evil. Needless to say, Percy didn’t like the place. Inside, Sirius was waiting for them along with many others. 

When the door opened and shut gently, he knew it was her. For the first time in over twelve years, he’d be allowed with his wife again. The woman he loved and the woman he felt the most solace with. He’d also see the boy that he used to know grown up into a young adult. The young gentleman Sirius always wanted. 

Perseus stood in front of her, Y/n’s hands on his shoulders. Sirius almost chuckled at it. Percy was protecting her even if she didn’t know it herself. He stood in front of her for a reason, to make sure she’d be safe. Sirius stood in front of them, swallowing harshly. 

“Remus, Y/n.” He choked on the last name.

“Good evening Sirius.” Remus greeted politely, “How have you been?”

Sirius shuffled, “I’ve been better.”

Remus hugged him, whispering in his ear, “Don’t fuck this up.”

“Hey, Siri.” Y/n smiled with tears in her eyes, “Hey, love.”

Gently she walked in front of Percy and hugged him tightly. Sirius’ arms went around her waist, and his nose dug into her hair. The scent of her perfume and shampoo calming his nerves slightly. Y/n dug her head into his neck and placed her arms around him. They pulled away and smiled. Gently he kissed her forehead. 

“I’m sorry for believing that you would ever,” She looked down, “You know.”

Sirius picked her chin back up gently, “You have nothing to be sorry for, love.”

Y/n kissed his lips softly. His lips were far from how she remembered. They were no longer soft and tasted of smoke. Instead, they were chapped and tasted of firewhiskey. Perhaps some things never change. Their lips melded together perfectly, just as they did so many years ago. They pulled apart, smiling brightly. She pulled from his embrace to stand by his side. 

“Sirius, this is-“

“Perseus, I know.” 

Perseus smiled nervously; they had the same smile, the same straight smile, “Hi.”

“Hi.”

It was silent for a while as Perseus shuffled, “Are you- are you staying this time?”

“I’d like to.” Sirius replied, “I’m not quite sure the extent of my living abilities, but I’ll be here.”

“I’m- I'm in Slytherin.”

“Okay.”

Perseus looked incredulously, “Okay? That’s all you have to say?” 

“There’s nothing wrong with being in Slytherin.” Sirius stated, “Your heart is in the right place.”

“How would you know?” Percy snapped, “You’ve been gone for most of my life. You don’t know anything about me.”

Sirius quirked an eyebrow, “So you standing in front of your Mather was just a happy accident? You weren’t planning on protecting her. Shall something go wrong?”

Percy looked at the ground, “Someone had to make sure she was safe while you were gone.” 

“That’s not fair.” 

“Life isn’t fair!” Percy yelled, “You left us. You don’t realize how badly you hurt her while you were gone.”

Remus walked back into the corridor to see Y/n frozen staring at her son. Sirius was standing in an argumentative stance. Percy’s eyes were filling with tears of frustration as he stared at the man who abandoned him from the start. 

“You left me. You left mum. You left Remus.” Percy cried, “How did you expect this to go, huh?”

Sirius didn’t say anything, “Did you expect me to be happy?! Did you expect me to hug you and fall into your arms?!” Percy shouted, “Because I’m not. I’m not happy, and I’m not going to fall into your arms and hug you like a naive little boy. My mum deserves better than this bullshit.”

“Enough!” Remus snapped, and Percy froze, “Your father is risking his life to be here right now. To meet you. I get it. I wouldn’t be happy either if my father did what Sirius did. But with things, the way they are right now is holding a grudge really that important?”

“N- No, sir.”

“Percy.” Y/n called, and he stared at her with watery eyes as she approached him, “I get it. You’re angry, you’re upset, but he’s still your father. He wants to be here now.”

“B- But he-“

“I know, my love. He’s going to try and make up for it. You don’t have to trust him right away. You don’t have to say ‘I love you’ right away. He isn’t expecting that.” Y/n wiped the tears from his cheeks, “All he’s expecting is his son. The little boy that he last saw.”

Percy looked down, “I know you aren’t that little boy, and I wish you still were. The little boy that used to make me smile and laugh. The little boy that used to cause mischief around the house driving Remus mad.” 

Sirius smiled, “You’re older now, and that will take some getting used to. I know you don’t remember, but Sirius used to be the only one who could get you to stop crying. He used to hold you all night, sleep with you in the rocking chair.”

“Sirius used to babble nonsense to you while I was at work. He used to take you to the park. Make you laugh by turning into a dog.” Percy sniffled, “Back then, Sirius was your everything, baby.”

Percy hugged his mom tight, “I- I’m scared.”

It was only loud enough for her to hear, “Why, baby?”

“What if- what if he leaves again?”

“He’s not going to.” Y/n moved the hair from his face, “Sirius wouldn’t leave us unless he had to.”

Percy knew what that meant. Sirius wouldn’t leave unless he got killed or died. Percy looked at Sirius’ eyes which were filled with tears from recalling the moments of his past. Y/n smiled reassuringly before Percy allowed himself to hug his father. He was wrapping his arms around his stomach, nuzzling his nose into his chest. 

When they pulled apart, Sirius smiled, “You’re my everything, kiddo.”

[parchmentedpetrichor]

➳a mastermind ♡

in which fred weasley turns to the resident mastermind, y/n l/n, in hogwarts for advice. the problem? he has a crush on the same girl george does: angelina johnson. the story spans over a couple of months in their second last year at hogwarts.

fred weasley x ravenclaw!fem!reader

word count: ±1.4 k

tw: nothing really??

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my masterlist:D

ft. cassius warrington

wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure

a mastermind

after fred and george weasley had given up trying to enter the triwizard tournament, their sights set on a different matter. for george, it had always roamed his head. for fred, it simply popped up at the randomest of a time.

they were in the age of chasing after pretty girls with pretty smiles.

one pretty girl in particular. angelina johnson.

george's crush really wasn't a crush. it was more like a deep love for angie. he knew her really well, they were almost best friends. and angie loved him back.

fred knew both these facts, yet he couldn't possibly grasp why he still had a good old schoolboy crush on her. and he couldn't tell george either. no, george was too considerate and needed a girlfriend. and he had been patiently waiting long enough to deserve something.

sometimes he wished he was george. still funny and prank-loving, but calm and collected at times. but sometimes he liked himself just as he was. spontaneous, dramatic and terribly idiotic.

and hey, george was handsome, so he must be too, right?

one morning after tossing and turning all night, he decided he needed help.

he spotted the girl in the blue uniform and the glasses, she had the brightest yet the wisest eyes. even before he approached her, she swiftly lifted her head from the parchment she had been writing on and saw him. she met eyes with him. she didn't show any emotion she hadn't already been showing, but the simplicity of understanding was written, like all the ravenclaws, in her brain.

"um, hello," fred started.

"good afternoon, what's up?" y/n replied friendlily, parchment now away and now doodling randomly on a scrap piece of it.

"i need some help."

"okay then, go on, i'm listening," her tone was gentle and reassuring.

"i like the same girl as my brother. i don't know what to do, really."

there was silence for a little while. her eyes were focused, her hand absentmindedly drawing across the parchment.

she pushed her glasses up.

"would you consider this 'liking' you say, to be potentially love?"

"no, not at all, it's just a crush, y'know."

"a silly one? i know we all have silly crushes which are full of quite foolish feelings. but they're nice for a while."

"yeah, that's the feeling."

"why do you think you like this girl?"

"um, because-because she's pretty, and she's nice."

"two very valid reasons," y/n chirped, "and why does your brother like this girl?"

"he loves her, because she understands him and she puts up with him and they've been best friends for years. they like the same things and have the same beliefs."

"mhm."

she was still deep in thought.

"does this girl like one of you?"

"that's the problem. she's in love with him and we all know that. i just can't get over her."

"oh, moving on is easier than you think it is. simply put, your brother or the girl?"

your brother or the girl?

everything seemed so much more clearer.

"think about it this way, fred weasley, if your brother is happy, are you? good day, sir!" she saluted jokingly and set off merrily, her steps quick and paced.

she knew it was good to be cheerful around him, because if she was cynical and way too practical, it would break him. he needed to get over angelina, she thought, or it would severely affect his and george's brotherhood.

she didn't tell him that though, that would be mean and sad.

fred was quite astounded. he didn't know how this girl, who was, to him, small in size and in ego, and probably younger by a few months, knew this much.

that's the eagleclaws for you, he thought.

she didn't look intimidating, if anything, she was nice and fun, but she somehow seemed like she could be the end of you.

she knew, she knew, she knew.

she knew who the girl was, who the brother was, she knew more about him than he did himself, and she barely knew him. she about solved his issue.

he found himself being drawn to her. instead of his eyes floating to angie, they were on the chatting, studying, daydreaming girl who wore the ravenclaw blue with much nonchalence.

☆

y/n was freezing. it was the end of the school day and it was snowing. so she made her way to the ravenclaw common room, muttering a haphazard answer to the riddle, told her best friend julia that she was going to take a nap and then bundled up in the heavy sheets.

julia just smirked. she quickly went to grab fred.

"oi, fred!"

he was laughing with george and lee.

they would make cute babies, julia pondered.

"oh, hello," he said.

"come with me."

her tone was ominous and commanding.

"okayyyy."

he followed her to the ravenclaw common room, where she sat down next to a telephone.

"in a few minutes, y/n will call for a blanket because it's cold. just wait."

"and how does this concern me?"

he got a scorching glance in return.

"i have to talk to cassius in a few minutes."

sure enough, the phone rang.

"juliaaa, you're a darling, you know that right??" y/n flattered her.

"yeap." julia's face broke into a smile.

"yeah, so be a darling and could you please possibly send a nice blanket up here?? or two or even three??"

"of course, and a handsome prince with the hair colour of fire too to cuddle," she winked at fred who turned red.

"yEs oF cOurSe, juLiE, aNd prEfEraBlY thAt hE hAs sTaRs iN hIs eyEs aNd gAlAxIeS iN hIs MinD tOo," she joked back.

"okay. right up."

"wha- julia what??!!! thanks."

they both chuckled.

he handed fred a stack of neatly folded blue blankets.

"go. fifth door on the left."

and so he did. it seemed the ravenclaws were too mature to need barriers on their dormitory quarters. the door was open and the room was insanely neat. y/n was lying in a bed, eyes wide open, a small pout on her lips.

she was clearly surprised to see him. when he placed all the blankets nicely on her she smiled.

"thank you, freddie."

"aren't you gonna let me in too?" he asked, smirking.

"oh," her cheeks heated up, "i thought julia was just joking!!!"

"apparently i am indeed a handsome prince with hair of fire, stars in his eyes and galaxies in his mind," fred smirked and y/n huffed.

"it's an expression. and i didn't know she was talking about you!"

"well, scoot over."

y/n just stared at him, before shuffling over.

"i hate you."

fred just scooped her up in his arms.

"you smell good," she blurted out, before immediately turning red.

"mhm, 'pparently my cologne does have that effect on girls."

"pretty sad that only your cologne attracts girls," y/n retorted, "and i was just telling you. it does not have an effect on me."

"'kay, whatever you say."

there was a silence.

"this is boring," y/n frowned.

"wanna make out then?"

y/n glanced at him. was he for real?

she thought not. so she pretended she was asleep, and soon she really was.

fred didn't feel defeated at all.

for he had noticed the faint blush rise on her cheeks.

☆

y/n decided it was probably time she asked fred out or something. if she got rejected, she was great at moving on.

so she asked him to meet her at the corner of the library on a thursday afternoon. he didn't show.

dismayed, she went out of the library, and met george weasley.

"hey george!"

"yello!"

"have you seen fred?"

"check the astronomy tower."

"okay."

there was something mischievous about the way he winked at her as she departed. then again, it was george.

the astronomy tower was well lit and there in all his glory, stood fred. she felt a frown on her face as she approached him. he turned around and smirked at her.

"stop it. i invited you to the library to tell you that-"

her voice was muffled as fred put a hand to her lips.

"you are not going to beat me to this."

"this isn't a game!"

"eh, everything is. i really really really like you, y/n."

he anxiously awaited her answer.

a cheshire cat smile formed on her lips.

"well i was just going to tell you that transfiguration homework is due tomorrow but okay."

"..." he was staring grumpily at her, lips in a pout.

"i like you too."

he smiled, "good."

"isn't this the part you ask me on a date or something?" y/n teased, "or should i? wanna go to hogsmeade with me?"

"you beat me to it."

[cutesuki--bakugou]

Anything

Rating:  Explicit

Warnings: Rough Sex (Vaginal), Rough Oral Sex (blow job, face fucking), Spanking / Whipping (with a drumstick), Obsessive Reader, Toxic / Power Imbalanced Relationship, Emotional Manipulation, Suggested Dubcon / Reluctant / Compliant Reader

Words: 10,418 

Pairing: Drummer!Bakugou Katsuki x Superfan!Fem!Reader

Quirkless, Punk rock band AU

BTW, please blacklist the tag cutesuki-lemons if you do not want to see this content from my blog. I will no longer be tagging with specific keywords for this type of content.Thank you~

Due to the nature of this post, the characters are 18+

Tags: @lady-bakuhoe​, @gallickingun​, @mirakumiruku​, @wakaoujisenhime​, @sunnieskies02​, @hisoknen​

Art in banner by me.

This was incredibly frustrating. Finally, after years of admiring and being an incredibly dedicated fan, you were standing in front of your favorite punk rock band. They were just a few feet from you, so close that you could reach out and touch them. How badly you wanted their full and undivided attention was near suffocating, and yet, it was so difficult for you to find the courage to speak at all. You had given them your name after you had been brought backstage for the meet up, which was a perk of the insanely expensive VIP tickets you and your friends had purchased. 

That’s all that you had been able to say. Your friend, however, was absolutely bursting with questions. You were very close to her, but damn, you wished that she would just stop talking long enough for someone else to get a word in. All day you had been brooding over what you wanted to ask, what you wanted to say to these men that had been such a huge part of your life for the last few years. Their music had inspired you, made you cry, pumped you up so much that you’d jump around your room and just jam out. But, more than that, they had saved you. You didn’t know how to explain it, or even how it happened in the first place, but you had truly begun to feel like their existence is what you lived for. 

Was that unhealthy? Probably. But who could blame you? You loved every single one of them. All five men were like your best friends, and you felt so close to them from your time following them on social media and attending their concerts. You knew them like the back of your hand, from birthdays, to favorite food, drinks, hobbies, past or current girlfriends, and you had even found out their personal telephone numbers. Had you ever called them? No, of course not. That would be creepy. 

Midoriya Izuku, the band leader and lead singer, was being the most engaging as far as answering questions. Unlike their punkish attire and aesthetic, he was like sunshine, incredibly friendly and soft with his curly green hair and freckled cheeks. He was adorable, able to make all the little fangirls scream and squeal with his grin and a cheeky wink. 

Todoroki Shouto, lead guitar and backup singer, was the quiet pretty boy of the group, breaking hearts with his intense and piercing stare. That wasn’t to say he didn’t have a soft side to him, but more than anything, he was extremely dense, and his genuine confusion was what made him so desirable. 

Kirishima Eijirou, second guitar, was another ray of sunshine amongst the black clothes and punk piercings. He loved to get the crowd riled up, his endless energy and cheery personality infectious. Out of everyone, he was the most openly friendly without a hint of shyness and treated everyone like he had known them forever. 

Kaminari Denki, bass guitar, was the group idiot. He was nice, but often did and said things that could get the group into trouble or make a fool of himself in the public eye. Funny and playful, he could make anyone laugh, either from a joke or from just being a silly fool. 

Although you adored them all, one of them had you in his grip, like your heart had been locked in a vice that grew tighter every time you saw him. The fifth member, Bakugou Katsuki, was your absolute dream man. Rough, arrogant, mean, and foul mouthed, he was the bands second in command, drummer, and backup singer for moments that required his deep and gruff voice. God, he was everything you ever wanted in a partner. Boyfriend. Husband. Whatever! You wanted him so badly that you dreamed about it constantly, picturing yourself in those strong arms or having those calloused hands on your body. Much to your misfortune, he was the most private on social media, so there was still a lot about him that you didn’t know. 

That was one of his most attractive qualities to you. His mystery and his silence. What was he really like? Was he this grumpy and off putting with those close to him? Did he have a gentle side of any kind?

You wanted to know everything about him! But, standing here in front of the entire band, you were frozen, not able to make a squeak. Even your eyes were locked on the floor, unable to look up at them in fear that you would gawk a little too intensely. Or start crying. One of the two would happen, probably. 

Your chance to interact with your heroes was slipping by with each moment, however, and you didn’t know if you’d ever get to have this chance again. What did you want to say? What questions had you thought about? You had a million of them, all you had to do was just say one. Something. Anything! 

“Bakugou-!” 

The name slipped from your lips in a sharp snap, which tapered off at the end with a tremble. Just as the sweet name left your lips, your eyes darted up, catching the confused and irritated crimson glare of the blonde drummer. At first, you were taken aback by his current appearance, still flushed and sweaty from the concert performance. His blonde spiked locks were wild and unruly, bangs stuck to the sweaty skin of his forehead and cheeks. He was so handsome, all messy and hot--

“U-uhm…” Your friend that stood beside you gave you a nudge in the side, though she was unable to pull your gaze away from Bakugou, who’s annoyed snarl made your heart begin to race. “[Name], I was about to ask something else…” 

“What’d you want to say, you damn shitty extra.” Bakugou barked at you, ignoring your friends' whine at being interrupted. “Don’t just bark out my name and then stand there like a fucking moron.” That gruff and demanding voice was intoxicating, making you involuntarily clench your thighs together and clutch at the fabric of your skirt.

“I… I was wanting to know. Uhm,” Your eyes darted across his face and his chest as you tried to think of what you had been wanting to ask him. You couldn’t remember for the life of you, but as your gaze landed on the piercing he had on the bridge of his nose, a thought popped into your head and curiosity flourished instantly. “How many piercings do… do you have?” 

Bakugou’s eyebrow cocked in initial confusion at the question, before returning to its usual furrowed position. “The fuck? That’s kind of personal, ain’t it?” 

“I’ll tell you how many I have.” You weren’t sure if the teasing, flirtatious sound of your voice was purposeful or not, but just hearing yourself made the tips of your ears flush. “Five types… Nine piercings total. I bet you beat me on that, hm?” 

“Tch, that’s fucking nothing, you little punk poser. I have nine types, thirteen total.” Bakugou shoved his hands into the pockets of his loose shorts, pulling the fabric down just enough to show the skin of his left hip and a peak of his boxers. One of the stated piercings gleamed in the light once exposed, and it took all your willpower to not hyper focus on it. “Not like you’ll ever know them all or see them.” 

“I bet I could guess.” “You’d fucking fail, moron-”

“A-ah, let’s not!” Midoriya interrupted, giving a nervous laugh and a wave of his hand to pull your attention off Bakugou. “We’re not here to talk about such personal things, you know! Right, Kacchan?” 

“I don’t give a fuck,” Bakugou shifted his weight from his right foot to his left, giving an annoyed click of his tongue. “I’m not in the mood for this bullshit.” 

“Why?” You once again spoke without thinking. “Because you missed your cue during Collide?” The accusation immediately had Bakugou’s eyes widening in surprise before he scoffed, glaring crimson daggers at you.  

“Well aren’t you just a fucking super fan.” 

“I try to be.” Although you knew that he wasn’t kind to you, the fact that he noticed your extreme interest in the band made your cheeks flush, looking down at the ground between your black combat boots. The t-shirt you had paired with your skirt was your favorite that you owned of the bands merchandise, and just seeing it as you gaze down over your chest made your stomach bubble nervously. Was it really that obvious? Was it weird to him? Did he like it? 

“Ah, well, anyway!” Your friend piped in again, taking a step closer to Midoriya with a sparkle in her eyes. “Deku! Please, tell us about your girlfriend!” 

Midoriya instantly went into his flustered state of rubbing the back of his head, his stuttering and embarrassed gibberish cracking with his exhausted voice, leaving you once again off to the sidelines. With a small, quiet sigh, you fiddled with the hem of your skirt, more questions burning on the tip of your tongue. In your down casted vision, you saw Bakugou’s feet shift, and there wasn’t a second thought in your mind about looking up at him. Your gaze immediately locked with his, which was still a dark and threatening glare. 

Your heart instantly skipped a beat, the heat in your cheeks growing hotter. Had he already been looking at you? Why was he glaring so intensely? You didn’t think that he would get upset with the mention of his mistake that you had pointed out, but perhaps he had gotten embarrassed? In truth, you hadn’t meant your statement to be argumentative in any way. You were more concerned about him. Messing up during a performance was a big deal, and though most people might not have noticed, you were curious if it was eating at him or if he just doesn’t care. 

Then, he made a move that you didn’t expect. With a quiet click of his tongue, he began to make his way out of the room, only stopping at the door when Kirishima spoke up. 

“Woah, man, where are you going?” The redhead interrupted Midoriya, who also looked at Bakugou curiously. 

“I work a lot harder than all of you assholes during a show! I’m sick of fucking standing around, and these losers aren’t even interesting. I’ll be in my room.” Before anyone could stop him, the door slammed shut with his exit, and you turned your attention to Midoriya as he sighed. 

“A-aha, I’m sorry about Kacchan! He’s uh… he doesn’t like meetups much.” 

“That’s a shame…” You mumbled under your breath, already missing his presence. You could still feel that glare on you, so threatening and dangerous. This had been your chance to really make yourself stand out from the crowd and show him how genuinely interested you were in him, and you wasted it. You cared about him more than these other women that fawned over him like brainless zombies. You were perfect for him. You knew you were, without a doubt, and you wanted him. 

It was true that the rest of the band members were close to your heart, that you admired all of them as your heroes. But Bakugou… You had just ruined your chance to talk with him and get to know him. 

There wasn’t anything else you could do.

“Is there a bathroom I can use?” Your question once again popped out of your mouth during the middle of a conversation, though instead of stopping it, Kirishima smiled at you sweetly. His kind face and gentle touch to your arm to lead you away from the group so he could talk to you had your heart racing, almost too scared to take a step in fear that you’d trip with how distracted you were by his face. 

“Yeah, babe. Go left down the hall, you’ll see it marked. Don’t get yourself into trouble, m’kay?” 

B-babe? Aahh, why would he call me that? He’s too sweet for his own good. Cheeks flushing, you gave a small nod, thanking him quietly before heading out of the room, taking a final quick glance at the group behind you to catch Kirishima giving you a playful wave. Of course, by the time you stepped outside into the hallway, Bakugou had already vanished. Using what you had remembered of the route to get to this room from backstage, you hadn’t seen anything that was labeled as a changing room for any of the men. So, you went left down the hall as you had originally been instructed, glancing at each door you passed to see if there were any names scribbled on the dry erase board many of them sported. 

Your heart nearly stopped when you finally saw it. Bakugou Katsuki, written in red marker with a shitty doodle of what looked to be a hand holding up the middle finger, along with the words “fuck off”. Before going in, you took a moment to press your ear up against the door, listening closely to see if there were any signs of life. There wasn’t a single sound or hint of movement, so gathering your courage and glancing up and down the hall for danger, you took hold of the doorknob, your heart beginning to race as it moved without resistance. 

With a quiet click, the door opened, not making another sound as you cracked it just enough to look inside. The lights were on, and your suspicions that he hadn’t been inside were confirmed. Feeling a bit discouraged, you considered just going back to the room to finish off your time with the rest of the band. That would probably be enough to satisfy your longing for them, right? The others could be great company, and maybe Bakugou would come back before you left. 

But, deep in your chest, you could feel the need to be with Bakugou alone to talk to him one on one. You wanted his attention more than anything, and you knew that there wasn’t going to be another chance for you to see him this close again any time soon. No, you couldn’t run away. You had already come too far to back out now. What’s the worst he could do? Kick you out? Call security to have you removed? Call you names? Press you up against the wall and threaten you? 

Ah, well, maybe that wasn’t all that bad. You’d probably melt in his hands and collapse on the floor in a blushing puddle of tears if he so much as touched you. 

Gathering your resolve, you pushed yourself on into the room, walking lightly and glancing this way and that to make sure he wasn’t just laying on some furniture or something to take a nap. Feeling confident that he wasn’t in the room, you shut the door behind you with a light click, taking a few timid steps into the room. Almost instantly, you were completely engulfed by the scent of his body spray, which you had only been faintly able to pick up while in the group. It was such a powerful scent, bold and intense, just like him. How quickly just the simple scent of him made your core burning hot was a bit staggering, feeling your knees already growing weak and your chest growing tight. 

This is harder than I thought… Just from smelling him like this I feel like I’m going crazy. And he’s not even in here! I should leave before I get too distracted… But… This is his stuff! 

Beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed being in the presence of Bakugou’s possessions, your teary gaze scanned the room methodically, surprised to see that the room was actually very well kept. With his brash personality, you more expected Bakugou’s personal space to be a wreck, but the only thing that was really out of place was a small pile of clothes tossed aside next to a suitcase. A desire to be close to Bakugou driving you, there wasn’t a moment of hesitation as you made your way towards it, squatting down. Right on top was the tank top he had just been wearing, still soaked with his sweat. It was the most recent thing that had touched his body. It still had his essence all over it. How could you just leave it there? 

Picking it up, you brought the shirt up to your nose, inhaling deeply. It was absolutely delicious, your body quivering from the excitement and adrenaline beginning to pump through your veins. You were actually holding one of Bakugou’s sweaty shirts in your hands, one that he had just performed in! This was absolutely real. It wasn’t a dream!

Becoming overwhelmed with your feelings for him, you flopped back to sit on your butt, spreading your legs open. Since you were wearing fishnet hose with decently large holes, you had direct access to your already soaked pussy, the little lace thong easily moved aside. Now, all that existed to you was the scent wafting off his shirt and your fingers eagerly stroking your sex, alternating between stroking your clit and digging two of your fingers inside you. The cloth of the t-shirt pressed up against your lips and nose, you panted and moaned softly against it, imagining that you were right up against his chest, his fingers teasing your cunt. 

You were so engrossed in your fantasy that you could even hear him taunting you, that deep growl of his voice in your ear. 

“That’s right, babygirl. You like when I finger that slutty pussy, don’t you?” 

“You’re so fucking wet, you little whore. Dripping all for me.” 

“Getting horny just from the smell on my clothes? You dirty fuck.” 

“What the fuck are you doing?!” 

The sudden rattling boom of a familiar yell startled you out of your pleasant daydream, turning your moan into a squeal as you nearly jumped out of your skin. Spinning around, you were met with the wide-eyed shocked crimson glare of your dream man, who was standing halfway in the room, as if he had stopped in his tracks upon seeing you. All you could do was sit there in shock, still holding his shirt up to your face as your other hand tried to pull your skirt down between your legs, as if to hide your sin. 

“I,” Stuttering, you tried to gather yourself, clenching your thighs together tightly. “I, uhm, Bakugou, it’s not- How’d you… get in?” 

His shocked expression contorted into one of confusion, then into annoyance, his brows furrowed deeply as he startled at you. “Are you fucking kidding me? You didn’t lock the door, ya dumb cunt.” Walking the rest of the way inside, he slammed the door shut loudly behind him, startling you again enough to scurry back against the wall, your knees pulled up to your chest protectively. “What the fuck are you even questioning me for? You’re the horny bitch sitting on my floor sniffing my fucking clothes and touching yourself.” Without having to look back at the doorknob, Bakugou gave the little lock a twist, setting the latch firmly in place. 

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you could only stare at him, your eyes captivated by that fierce glare. How hot he made you only intensified now that he was back in your presence, and more than that, the asshole was even shirtless. His flawless muscular figure made your mouth feel dry, as if any and all liquid your body could produce was pooling between your legs. It was everything you could do not to start touching yourself again, clutching onto his shirt with both hands tightly. “I… I’m sorry. I just… I-” 

“You’re just a damn psycho fan, aren’t ya?” Reaching up to give his hair a quick ruffle, Bakugou started making his way towards you, his ruined and ragged skater shoes squeaking against the smooth wooden floor. “I’m surprised you didn’t rip your shirt off during the fucking concert and throw your bra on stage.” 

“I’m not stupid like those girls… I have dignity. And I don’t want a bunch of other people seeing my tits anyway.” Your voice lowered down to a meek whisper by the time he stood in front of you, both of his hands on his hips, as if he were about to scold you like an angry parent. With him so close, your eyes glanced over every inch of his bare torso, drinking in how absolutely flawless he was. What was even more enticing was the piercings he had so proudly boasted about not long ago, a pair of them placed on his collarbones, nipples, and hips. 

“Tch, dignity?” Bakugou scoffed, a sly smirk crossing his lips. “‘Dignity’, the little slut says, as she sits on the floor in my dressing room fucking herself to the stench on my shirt. Pathetic.” 

“What are… Are you going to kick me out?” 

“There’s a lot that I could do to you,” Bakugou’s smirk turned wicked, his lips curling up to show his gums. “But how about you tell me what the fuck you were doing in here?” 

“I just… I really wanted to get an autograph or picture with you. You’re my,” Your breath caught in your throat, not wanting to let it slip that he was your absolute dream man. “You’re my favorite band member.” 

“Then what are you doing with my clothes?” 

An intense burning suddenly rushed to your cheeks with a new round of embarrassment, and with it came the stinging sensation of tears building up in your eyes. What had you been doing? You had just wanted to talk to him more, to get to know him better, and just spend time with your hero. And yet, you had let yourself get completely overwhelmed by a burning desire for him, one that was just too strong to ignore in the moment of solitude with his possessions. You knew that you had a very intense crush on him, but that bad and that… gross? You had told yourself over and over that you weren’t like the desperate women who would do anything filthy to get his attention, yet here you were, sniffing his clothes and touching yourself. 

“I… I don’t know what I was doing.” Your voice quivered as you avoided looking at him, trying to blink the tears away. “That was really gross of me. I had just… wanted to see you in private. I wasn’t getting a chance to talk to you, to any of you, and… I just wanted my chance.” 

“You wanted your chance, eh?” Bakugou brought a hand up to his chin, rubbing it as if he were in thought, contemplating his options. “So much that you’d sneak into my room, to wait for me or try to corner me?” 

Swallowing the lump that had grown in your throat, you coward down back against the wall, wishing that you could just shrink away in shame. Your impulses had completely ruined your chances. He had to think you were a total freak by now, he’d never want to even give you the time of day. 

“Ya know,” Bakugou crossed his arms over his chest, taking a half step closer to you. His posture and presence over you was so aggressive and domineering that you couldn’t find it in yourself to move, only pulling your legs up tighter to your chest to try and get further away from him. “You talk all big, saying that you’re not like those other extras out there that’ll drop their pants in seconds for me. That you have ‘dignity’. But I don’t think that’s true. I think you’re just like those other sluts out there, a stupid whore that is driven by nothing but her cunt.” 

You gave a small shake of your head, trying to ignore the throbbing between your legs and the swirling in your stomach from how he was treating you. You couldn’t believe it was turning you on so much. “No, I… That isn’t what I wanted.” 

“I think it is. You’re disgusting. Nothing but a filthy super fan and a stalker. Why don’t you just admit it?” 

“Because… It’s not true. I love you, but not… It’s not all like that.” 

“If you loved me, you’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you?” The change in tone caught you off guard, his voice no longer accusatory and vicious. Instead, his growl was almost soothing, as if he were trying to calm your frantic thoughts of failure. “You’d do anything to stay in the same room as me. To just be able to fucking look at me or get a shitty autograph, hm?” 

“I would… yes.” Your heart racing, you tried to blink away the tears still prickling in your eyes, but they were persistent. “But if you want me to leave, I’ll… do that, too. I shouldn’t have come here like this in the first place…” 

“You regret it?” Bakugou moved his hands back to his hips, his fingers resting against the pristine shape of his hips with such rugged and confident posture. You were so conflicted on your feelings, and that question only made your throat grow tight. Did you regret it? All your actions up to this point had gotten you here, alone in his room with him, and no matter what the interaction was or may end up being, just getting to be here was a dream come true. 

But what would you do? Would you really do anything he asked of you? Anything? In truth, you didn’t think that you had the courage and you would just annoy him until he kicked you out. What would he even want from you in the first place? You weren’t innocent enough to not have noticed the bulge beneath the zipper of his shorts, pressing up into the fabric. Was this entire situation, having you cowering on the floor in front of him like this, actually turning him on? Did he… like you, then? Was he attracted to you? 

“I asked you a question.” Bakugou snapped when you didn’t answer him, leaning forward a bit to glower down at you with that typical snarl. 

“I don’t… I don’t regret it. I just don’t want to upset you.” 

“Aw, don’t want to upset me, eh?” With a click of his tongue, Bakugou’s snarl stretched into a smirk. “Poor little stalker, scared to upset me. Don’t worry, babygirl. Just do what I ask, and you won’t upset me.” 

“Really? You’re not upset?” 

“Not at all, babe. But you have to do what I say. You’ll do anything for me, won’t you?” The condescending growl of his voice was lost to you, only able to latch on to the pet names and hope of getting back on his good side.

“Yes.” 

“Because you’re not like those other girls. You're my number one fan. Aren’t you?” 

A new burning of heat and tears flared up, unable to stop the happy smile on your lips. “Yes. Yes! I am! I love you so much-”

“Get on your knees.” 

Smile faltering, you were confused by the demand, looking up at Bakugou through your gathered tears. “What?” 

“Get on your fucking knees.” Bakugou snapped again, the gleam in his glare almost… sinister. Still, there was something in you that begged for you to comply, and just like your impulses earlier, you couldn’t ignore it. Squeezing the fabric of his shirt tightly in your hands, you slowly shifted yourself up onto your knees as demanded, though the space between him and the wall was limited. Worried about your face being too close to his crotch, you sat back mostly on your legs, but he was quick to correct you. 

“All the way up on your knees.” 

Nibbling at your bottom lip, you pushed yourself up to be kneeling, your eyes glancing and looking everywhere but at the crotch of his baggy blank punk shorts, which reached his knees and ended in tattered fabric. The chains on both hips rattled lightly as he shifted his weight to his other foot, and that slight sound pulled your eyes to look at them, and thus at his crotch. At this angle, you could truly see how strained he was, the form of his cock clearly visible. The heat in your cheeks grew fiercer just thinking about what was just a few inches from your nose, and what was worse, the smell of him was overwhelming all your senses. He must have just recently reapplied his spray after sweating like mad for hours on end, but even his natural scent was enticing. 

“What are you looking at, babe?” 

Bakugou’s voice broke you out of your stupor, bringing you to look up at his face. “Nothing… Just, well…” Your voice tapered off, unable to find it within you to ask him. He obviously had a boner, but what the hell did that mean?

“Open your mouth. Keep those pretty eyes on my face.” His commands had grown softer, as if he were purring at you to keep you compliant. Opening your mouth as told, you peered up at him through your lashes, tilting your head back a little. The way his smirk grew had your skin tingling, but that isn’t what had all your attention. Your focus was on his hips, listening to the rustling of fabric and watching the movement of his arms through your peripheral vision. “Good girl. Now stick out your tongue. And don’t move.” 

Slowly, your tongue lolled out, and the low groan he gave in satisfaction of your obedience had you opening your mouth wider. As you sat there waiting for him, you could feel the saliva beginning to dribble down your chin and along the length of your tongue, gathering in a slick pool before dripping off the tip of your tongue to the floor. 

Suddenly, you felt a hard and hot presence slap against your tongue, making you squeak and recoil back. Though, before you could get far, your hair was in Bakugou’s fist, yanking you back up into position and peering up at him in shocked fear. He was visibly agitated, but his smirk was still wide, teeth bared. 

“What do you think you’re doing, slut? I said don’t move. You told me you’d do anything I say.” 

Trembling now, you pulled your gaze from his to look at his hips, pressing your lips together tightly as you gazed upon his erect cock. As he held it steady with his free hand, you couldn’t help but take in every detail, from the girth and length, the prominent veins and ridges, and the frenum barbell piercing nestled just under the blushing head. It was truly the most attractive cock you had ever seen in your life, and a fire began to rage in your core as you realized that was what had just hit your tongue. 

Bakugou’s cock… He… He wants me to suck him off? What if I’m not good enough… I shouldn’t! 

You could feel the heat of your essence beginning to dribble down your thighs, your poor excuse for underwear and hose completely soaked through. You could feel the throbbing all the way into your stomach, and it was impossible to deny that you were the horniest you had ever been. But this isn’t what you had expected or wanted to do. Was it? 

“That’s what you said, isn’t it?” Bakugou pulled your head a bit closer, giving you a few rough smacks to the cheek with his impressive cock. “You would do anything for me.” With your lips still tightly closed, he ran the tip of his cock across them, smearing his precum along your skin. “So be a good girl and give my cock a little kiss. Be sweet, now.” 

Although the demand was embarrassing, the pressure of his grip on your hair and his cock literally at your lips made you feel like you truly didn’t have a choice. He was in control of all of this. He could do anything he wanted. He could get you arrested, even. You had to do what he said, not only for your own benefit, but because you adored him. So, you placed a tender kiss right beneath the head, your eyes fluttering closed. Abandoning the t-shirt in your hands, you reached up to softly caress his cock, using your grip to move it up to give you more access to the underside. Your kisses were quite timid at first, but as one lingered against the underside of his shaft, the pulsing you could feel against your lips made your body ache. 

Eventually, your kisses became more passionate, even giving light suckles and little kitten licks, teasing the piercing and the sensitive head. Hearing him groan with the attention pulled your eyes up to look at him, a bit surprised to see that his cheeks were quite flushed, and his smirk had faded. Was he really enjoying this? 

Bracing himself against the wall with his free hand, Bakugou only further crushed you with his overwhelming presence and dominance, making you pause in worry. “Good girl. Now open your fucking mouth.” 

The instant your lips parted wide enough, Bakugou simultaneously pulled your head and pressed his hips forward, shoving his cock into your mouth, the tip stopping at the back of your tongue. Squeaking and groaning in surprise of the forced entry, you clutched on tightly to his thighs, only just having noticed that his shorts had fallen around his feet. His boxers had simply been pushed down out of the way, but the elastic kept them up on his hips for now. You were unable to move, his grip on your hair too tight to pull back. He didn’t want you to do the work? 

“That’s it, baby. Keep that mouth nice and open for my cock. You don’t gag easily do you?” You could hear the feigned concern in the question, and the only answer you could give is a furrow of your brow, new tears prickling in the corners of your eyes. “Oh well. Guess we’ll find out, won’t we?” 

It was then that Bakugou began to thrust his hips, fucking your mouth slow and shallow. You were actually surprised that he started out so cautious, but you could tell that the pleasure was beginning to grow quickly. “Fuck babe, you’re such a good little slut for me.” Ever so slightly, he began to thrust faster and deeper, until the tip of his cock was hitting against the back of your throat. You were lucky that you didn’t have a strong gag reflex, as you knew that anyone who did would have already puked all over him. But you could take it. You could take it for him, to let him have his way with you just to stay with him a little longer. 

Though, you were finding that it was difficult, breathing in through your nose and trying to distract yourself from the burning in your jaw. Each thrust had your nose touching his pelvis and his balls slapping against your chin, which was coated in drool that dripped freely. It was so difficult to handle him, in fact, that you couldn’t stop the tears from running down your cheeks, only further displacing your already ruined makeup from crying earlier. You were a mess already, but the fire within you didn’t falter. If not for needing to grip onto his thighs to keep you balanced, you would be touching yourself again, the craving for your own pleasure just as suffocating as the dick in your throat. 

Still, your struggles were worth it. You got to watch Bakugou’s expression, his brow no longer furrowed in anger but in pleasure, his eyes glazed over with the undying need for release. His face was flushed and sweat was already beginning to drip down along his skin, his body still affected by the intense performance he hadn’t finished not even an hour ago. The way his body moved, muscles tensing and rolling beneath your grip on his thighs. He was so gorgeous. 

You had expected him to finish in your mouth, but after some time of fucking your throat raw, he stopped, holding the back of your head as he dug his cock as deep in as he could. You groaned and whined from the pressure, wishing desperately for relief while pushing on his thighs. With his own groan and hiss of pleasure, Bakugou pulled out of your mouth slowly, his smirk returning as he took in the sight of you. “You should see yourself. Filthy. Keep your tongue out.” When he finally removed himself completely, you took in a deep breath, gasping and panting to try and recover from the brutality you had to endure. Your tongue, however, stayed out as he demanded, allowing him to rub the underside of his tip against it. 

“You’re fuckin’ hot, you know that? So fucking sexy. I bet you have a nice tight little pussy, too.” After a few rough slaps of his cock against your tongue, he took a step back, stepping out of his shorts as he did so as well as his shoes, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. “Stand the fuck up.” 

Swallowing hard, you took the moment of getting to your feet to wipe your chin of the mess of liquids, but you didn’t get much time to steady yourself. Snatched by the arm, Bakugou dragged you over a few feet towards the couch, grabbing you once again by the hair and forcing you down over the armrest. The couch was quite tall, so with your upper body pressed into the cushions and your hips snuggly in place against the armrest, you could barely touch the floor with your tiptoes. It was another uncomfortable position, but you ignored the pressure on your belly as your ass was suddenly exposed to the cold air of the room, your skirt flipped up out of the way. 

“Fuck you have a nice ass.” Gripping your backside with both hands firmly, Bakugou squeezed and spread you open, taking in the pleasant view. “What a fucking punk poser you are with these shitty fishnets. They don’t even do shit.” Digging his fingers into the holes along your crotch, he gave a rough yank, ripping the fabric open to give him easy access. “Holy fucking shit, you should see how wet you are, babygirl.” 

You whimpered at the feeling of his thumb stroking along your sex, the slick that coated your skin giving him no resistance. You could feel it, all over your inner thighs and aching cunt, but now your favorite person in the entire world could see it, too. He could see how wet he made you, how getting tossed around by him made you feel. 

I… I didn’t agree to all of this. I know it isn’t right. I didn’t want it to go this far, but… How can I stop him? Why would I stop him? He’s… I love him so much! I want him to touch me, even though I know I shouldn’t--

Your thoughts were cut off by your own gasp, your body tensing and legs bending at the knee involuntarily at the sudden pleasure that rocked through your body. You knew what it was, his tongue hot and eager against your clit as he ate you out. The sounds of him lapping at your cunt and grunting in delight at the taste of you had your mind spinning, the pleasure devouring your body. Not wanting to be heard by anyone outside, you moaned and gasped into the fabric of the couch cushion, digging your nails into it as you did everything you could to not writhe out of his grip. 

You were so sensitive to his touch that you could feel everything, from his nails digging into your hips to the way his tongue piercing slid across your clit. It was as if he knew exactly how to use it to be able to drive you completely insane, the hard metal sending shocks of lightning through your body with each stroke and flick. 

“Ba-Bakugou, ahh-!” You tugged and pulled at the couch cushion in your grip, digging the toes of your boots into the floor. “It’s too much! Wait--!” 

“Too much? Don’t be such a fucking wimp. You’re my little slut, aren’t you? You can take anything I give you.” As he stood back up, you looked up at him over your shoulder, having to peek through your messy hair to see him. That wicked and excited smirk was back, and you were only able to watch as he gripped your ass in his hands, sliding his cock between your cheeks to coat himself in your essence. “And I know what you want me to give to you. You want my dick inside you, babygirl?” 

Immediately, you stomach rolled nervously, eyes on the tip of his cock and the precum dribbling from it. You were on birth control, there wasn’t necessarily anything risky about that, but there was something else that pricked at the back of your mind. If you did this with him, then you knew that you could never settle for another man. You would want him forever, as you always had, but would you ever get a chance like this again? Would you ever even see him again after today? 

It doesn’t matter… I’ll do it! 

“Yes! Yes, Bakugou, I want you.” You were surprised as he leaned away from you for a moment, though what he was doing was quickly made clear as he came back into full view with a drumstick. The way that it was beaten and chipped told you that it was one he had used that performance, and the other was probably close by, set to be discarded or handed out to fans. 

“And why do you want me?” Bakugou dug the stick into your hose, giving a sharp yank to further rip the delicate fabric and expose more of your ass to him fully. “Just because I’m your favorite of the band?” 

“No!” You couldn’t help but become defensive. “I… I care about you more than that!” You bit down onto your bottom lip as he began to run the tip of the stick across your skin towards your cunt, mind racing with thoughts of what he was going to do with it. You could still feel and see his cock between your cheeks, hot and pulsing, and you were honestly surprised that he could hold out to tease you this long. Just seeing you like this, bent over and so submissive, was enough to keep him going long enough to torture you a bit. 

“You love me? Even though I’ve slapped you, pulled your hair, and fucked your throat until you went hoarse? Even though I have your ass bent over the couch and haven’t given you any more than a few minutes of pleasure?” Suddenly, he brought the stick down hard onto your ass, making you yelp out and tremble beneath him. The pain was so good! You wanted that again, and you received it without having to ask, a moan slipping from your lips. 

“Yes! I’ll love you no matter what you do to me! Always! I love it when you throw me around and use me like this! Please, use me more! I’m your little slut, Bakugou--” You were silenced as he leaned over you, his palm pressing into the side of your face and pushing the hair roughly away from obscuring your flushed and teary features. Now with your full attention, Bakugou smirked, narrowing his eyes at you. 

“No, no, my pet. Call me by my name.” 

The heat that rushed to your face made even his burning palms feel cool, trying to blink the tears away as they rushed down the side of your nose to soak into the couch. Was he being serious? He wanted you to call him by name… by his first name. Something that he never allowed anyone but those close to him to do, and you had seen him on more than one occasion snap at people when they did it. He was huge on respect and feeling dominant over others, so to him, his given name was sacred. 

“Ka… Katsuki…” You couldn’t speak any louder than an airy whisper, though his reaction was enough to tell you that he enjoyed it. Smirk growing, Bakugou sat up from over your back, his fingers curling into your ruined hair as he began to rut his hips against you. His cock stroked slowly against your ass, his tip teasingly pressing into your cunt before slipping up back between your cheeks. 

“Again.” The drumstick still in his free hand, he brought it down hard onto the already abused and welted cheek, right as your voice had begun to leave your lips. 

“Ka-ah! Katsuki!” With another whack, your body instinctively tried to shift away from him, though all it did was off set his cock. His tip slipped into you, making you pause, both from the feeling and from the irritated growl that left his chest. 

“What a naughty little bitch, trying to get me to fuck you before I say so.” 

“N-no, it was just--” 

“-- Well if you want it so fucking bad, I’ll give it to you!” Abandoning your hair and the drumstick, he gripped your hips tightly in both hands, sinking his cock into you with one quick snap of his hips. “I’ll show you who fucking owns you!” 

You didn’t have time to think or respond as he began to fuck you, fast and hard. Already, the pleasure was overwhelming, rolling through your body like electricity. It was perfect, everything you had ever imagined and more. The way he filled you up to the absolute brim, not leaving a single inch of you untouched, had the coil in your core tightening so quickly that you couldn’t even think about how to restrain it. You were going to cum very quickly, and you had never wanted to so badly in your life. 

“How does my cock feel inside you, slut?” 

“G-good,” You struggled to choke out a response behind your moans, which squeaked with surprise as he picked up the pace. “It feels good!” 

“You want to cum all over it, don’t you?” 

“Yes!” 

“Beg for it.” 

At first, you couldn’t even comprehend what he was asking you, your mind growing hazy to everything but the pleasure. “I… please!” You reached back, clutching onto his hand tightly, digging your nails into his skin in hopes that it would keep him latched to you. “Please! Please let me cum, Katsuki! I want to cum all over your cock! I love it!” 

When the pleasure stopped, all you could do was sit there in shock, the emptiness you felt as he pulled out of you making your stomach sink. Had you said the wrong thing? Before you could really ask him, you were grabbed by the elbows and lifted up off the couch, your body flipped so you were sitting on the armrest with your legs now loosely hooked around his hips. In the next moment, his strong arms were around your body, one hooked around your hips to pull them snug against his own while the other supported your upper body. What shocked you more than that was the fierceness of his lips against yours, kissing you with intense passion and aggressiveness that you couldn’t help but to give in. 

Wrapping your arms around his torso, you moaned and gasped softly into the kiss, his hips once again rutting against yours to stroke his length against your clit. For a moment, things seemed to feel different than they had during this entire experience. It wasn’t as if he were using you anymore, doing everything entirely for his own benefit. Instead, his touch was attentive, caressing you and moving your body into position without force. Even the way he kissed you was quick to change, from dominating your mouth to a more tender sweetness. You didn’t ever want it to end, but you allowed it when he pulled away, gazing up into his piercing crimson gaze as he pressed his forehead against yours. 

“I want to see that pretty face when you cum.” The growl against your lips was teetering on threatening, as if he were warning you to not even think about turning away or hiding your face in his shoulder. “I want to see how good my cock makes you feel, baby. So cum all over it like a good girl.” As he began to sink his cock into you slowly, you couldn’t control your reactions to it, Your eyes rolling back and fluttering closed as he bottomed out inside you, even biting down onto your bottom lip as you whined. 

“Yes, Katsuki--” Your voice hitched as he began to thrust into you again, his cock reaching even deeper inside you that it had been before. “--Please watch my face… See how happy you make me!” 

“That’s right, you slut. That’s because you belong to me, don’t you? You’d do anything for me.” As he fucked you, he relied on your grip on him to keep you up, both of his hands moving to grip your hips again. As the pleasure began to boil, you dug your nails into his back, your voice spiking as he became rougher with the added pain. 

“Yes! Yes, anything! I’ll be your little slut forever, Katsuki! Just please don’t stop!” It was impossible to tear your eyes away from his even if you wanted to, but it was more than just the fact that they were intoxicating. He may have wanted to watch your face for the visual expressions of pleasure, but he didn’t realize that his demand to keep your eyes on him gave away more than he probably had expected to. There was no anger or frustration that you had seen before. Instead, he seemed absolutely overwhelmed with the pleasure himself, just as you were, and the flushing of his cheeks paired with his upwards furrowed brow gave him almost a… desperate look. Like he was pushing himself to make sure he was fucking you as well as he possibly could. 

Was he feeling some self-consciousness about all of this, too? Or regret for pushing you to this, unwillingly at first? You didn’t know, and you knew in the end he wouldn’t tell you if you asked. 

“Fucking hell, babygirl, your pussy is so fucking tight,” Bakugou pressed his forehead against yours again, wrapping his arms back around your waist to hold you closer, both to the edge of the armrest and his body. “You’re the best fuck I’ve had in months. I hope you’re ready for my cum all over that pretty face--” 

“No!” You moved your arms to wrap around his neck instead, one hand pressing against the back of his head with fingers tangled in his hair. “Come inside me! Please, Katsuki, I want you to fill me up! It’s okay--” Your voice cracked with a cry of pleasure, your encouragement pushing him to fuck you harder and deeper. 

“Then cum for me, bitch. Cum all over my cock.” 

With that command, you couldn’t hold the coil still any longer. It shattered with his movements inside you, each rough hit of his tip against your cervix only prolonging your orgasm and sending wave after wave of harsh pleasure through your body. Trembling, you squeezed onto him tightly, clutching a fist full of his hair and kissing him roughly, moaning and sighing softly into the kiss as he didn’t give you a moment to breathe. Within moments after your climax, his thrusts became slower and erratic, before he was finally able to release. 

Groaning and cursing against your lips, Bakugou kept his gaze locked with yours, not giving you any room to move or pull back as he came inside you. How hot it was coating your walls made you shiver, squeezing his hips with your thighs and pulling yourself in closer. It was an incredible high, and as you both came down from it together, you both loosened your grip on each other. 

For a moment, you stayed connected, your head on his shoulder with your forehead pressed against his neck, able to feel his pulse against your skin and his chest heaving against yours. Had all of this really just happened? You were pressed up against your crush, his arms wrapped around you with one large hand stroking up and down your back softly. It was so strange compared to his aggressive demeanor just moments before. You knew that it should have made you happy, but instead, all it did was confuse you, and you felt a new wave of tears rush down your flushed cheeks. 

Able to feel your tears run down his chest, Bakugou gave a click of his tongue, prying you off him with little pressure. In the same moment, he slipped his semi flaccid dick from within your still aching cunt, pulling his boxers back into place to cover himself. “Fucking crying again? Seriously?” 

Steadying yourself on the armrest with your hands, you kept your gaze downcast, squeezing your legs together as you could feel his cum beginning to leak out. “I’m sorry, Bakugou, I just--” 

“--Katsuki!” 

His loud correction made you jump, looking up at his face in shock as he glowered down at you. His cheeks were still flushed red, but you were unsure if it was from the exertion of what you had just done or from something else. Reaching over, Bakugou wiped your cheeks roughly with his thumbs, before giving you a bump to the bottom of your chin, as if telling you to cheer up. “I already fucking told you, psycho fan. Katsuki.” 

“Right. I… should I leave now?” 

Unsure of what to do with yourself, you stared up at Bakugou expectantly, fiddling with the hem of your skirt. With another click of his tongue, Bakugou bent over and snatched the forgotten drum stick up off the floor, taking a few steps away towards the vanity that was neatly organized with what you assumed he wore during a performance. Picking up what looked like a marker, Bakugou wrote something on the thick end of the drumstick, before presenting it to you. “Here.” 

Feeling your throat begin to close up as nerves began to take hold of you, it took you a moment to even find the courage to look at the stick, scared of what he might have written on it. Of course, it was probably just his autograph, which he had promised you at the beginning of all this. There wasn’t much time to look at it, though, before Bakugou huffed, shoving it against your chest and forcing you to grab it. “Take the damn thing!” 

Body still feeling quite weak, you squeaked as you fell backwards onto the couch from his push, clutching the drumstick tightly. You could see the tips of Bakugou’s ears flush as he scoffed, pointing towards the door that led out into the hallway. It was… cute. 

“Will you get out! Fuck, you’ve wasted enough of my time for now, go back to your friends!” 

For now…? 

Sitting up, you took a moment to fix your hair and wipe your face again, using the edge of your shirt to help you. “Do I look clean enough?” 

“You look just as fucking hot as you did when I first walked in. Now you better fucking leave, and I expect you to do what I say.” Walking over towards his pile of laundry, Bakugou picked up the shirt he had caught you with, tossing it at you and hitting you in the face. “And take that shit with you! You like it so much; you can have it.” 

Clutching both of your new prized possessions close to your chest, you hopped up like an excited child, smiling wide and squealing as you hopped towards the door. “Aahh, thank you, Katsuki! Thank you! I’m… sorry again for intruding…” 

“Yeah, and I’m sorry for the welts on your ass. Now fuck off!” Bakugou barked again, trying to rush you out for whatever reason. Stepping outside, you couldn’t help but take a moment to lean back against the wall when the door shut, breathing heavily and blushing fiercely. In truth, you weren’t sure what to make of that entire endeavor, thrown into a confusing mix of shame, embarrassment, arousal, and longing. You shouldn’t have done that, and yet, you just didn’t want to leave his side. 

“Got a little lost, didn’t ya, babe?” 

The squeal that left your lips was quickly doused by the t-shirt in your hand, jumping and nearly slamming yourself back against the wall in shock of the unexpected voice. Standing across the hall was Kirishima, whose presence you were surprised you didn’t notice immediately. The mischievous smirk on his lips quickly widened into a pleasant grin, uncrossing his arms and pushing himself off the wall to stand up straight. Had he been waiting for you to come out?

“You skipped the bathroom, you know! It’s down that way. I decided to come look for you before we were forced to call security guards, but I guess Bakugou found you first.” 

“A-ah, sorry! I… saw him go in his room and I just wanted an autograph.” Holding your treasures close to your chest, your stomach rolled nervously as Kirishima leaned in closer, his eyes locked on the visible part of the drumstick. 

“Aahh, I get it! Bakugou can be kind of a jerk, I’m surprised! But uh… if you want to convince anyone else that you were just getting an autograph, you should really go to the bathroom. I’m sure Bakugou didn’t give you a mirror, but you look like you had a real good time.” You could hear the tone in his voice lower from friendly to flirtatious, and you quickly tried to fix your hair. 

“H-he told me I looked fine!” 

“To him you probably do. May I?” Still grinning with a friendly disposition, you glanced at both of Kirishima’s hands as he held them up in an offering of help, before nodding timidly. He began to run his rough fingers through your hair, fixing it back into a state of normalcy with a tender touch that was so opposite to what you had just experienced with Bakugou. “You’re cute. I can see why he was so into you right away.” 

“That isn’t… normal for him?” Your eyes glanced over Kirishima’s exposed muscular arms and sides, the deep cut in the arms of his tank showing all the way to his hips. You thought you saw his smile turn sly out of the corner of your eye, but you couldn’t be sure. 

“Nah sweetheart. Bakugou might be a lot of things, but he doesn’t go for random chicks.” Seemingly satisfied, Kirishima also used his thumbs to wipe your cheeks and under your eyes. “Such a messy thing.” 

“Thank you, Kirishima… I’m… I’m really sorry for causing you trouble.” Your heartbeat grew heavier as the redhead in front of you didn’t step back, towering over you just as the blonde had. “I’ll go to the restroom and then... Back to the group.” 

With a chuckle, Kirishima nodded, tapping the end of the drumstick a few times. “You do that! I’ll meet you back there, just going to have a few words with our drummer. Careful with this stuff, yeah? Someone might just try to take it.” 

“I will…”

“Go on, then, scoot.” With a nudge, you were pushed forward down the hall gently, only taking a moment to look back at the pleasant smiling man behind you. He was so different from Bakugou and yet they were the closest friends in the band. You knew that Bakugou was going to tell him everything, and you could only hope that it was going to end up a positive conversation. You hated the thought of Kirishima spending the rest of the VIP visit looking at you in disgust, or even the possibility of him putting you down in front of everyone. 

Flustered, you scurried down the hall into the bathroom, slipping into a stall. After pushing down what was left of your hoes and your drenched thong, you plopped to sit, relieving yourself as you held the t-shirt and drumstick close to your chest. Though, it dawned on you that you hadn’t even looked at what Bakugou had written on the stick, so growing curious, you held it with both hands and spun it slowly to look over every inch. The ridges, dents, and splints in the wood were marks of every beat Bakugou had played, a solid crack down the middle representing just how powerful he was. 

In truth, you felt like that drumstick. You were always a splintered person, emotionally broken and splintered off from the world. And yet, Bakugou had touched you with his passion. But did that mean that you were truly broken now? Could you ever be used again by any other person, or would you snap into pieces the instant your heart tried to find its beat again? 

Eyes tearing up, you tried to blink them away, carefully running your finger along the crack until it met with a smudge of black writing. Unlike what you expected, there was no autograph. Instead, the words “Call Me” were scribbled in the black ink, along with a series of numbers. 

Is that… his cell phone number?! It’s different from what I had found… Those must have been fakes.

Reaching down into your boot, you pulled out your phone, having placed it there for safe keeping, though you were surprised it stayed in place the entire time in Bakugou’s room. Without an ounce of hesitation, you created his contact and started a message, sending it so quickly you didn’t even consider the consequences, though his words did ring in your ear loud enough to make you think he was right beside you. 

“Now you better fucking leave, and I expect you to do what I say.”

He said to call him, but… texting is the same, right?

Me 10:45 pm: Katsuki? 

Bakugou 10:47 pm: hey babygirl. ever been to an after party? 

[untaemedqueen]

Third Wheeling

CEO!Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 6.

Warnings (Updating Still): Smut, Cheating, Unexpected Pregnancy, Unfaithful, Emotional Damage, Asshole!Yoongi

A/N: As always, my loves @ppersonna, @ladyartemesia, @xjoonchildx consistently support me and make me feel better about how I’m writing. I’m so fucking grateful to them! I really wouldn’t be here without them and of course without all of you <3

Hospitals have always frightened you. They always smelled a little too much like cleaning supplies and for some odd reason they always had an underlying scent of sickness. Not that you could equate the smell of sickness to anything in particular-- but it just had that scent.

You can remember when your mother got her appendectomy and your dad told you to bring her doshirak while he went off to work, it scared the ever living hell out of you.

It's not that you were a hypochondriac or at least you didn't think you were. But now, as you stand beneath the large entrance to the VIP admittance area, your skin begins to crawl.

Maybe it’s the fear of entering the hospital and getting sick from others or maybe it’s the fact that you’ll be in a small space with the father of your child quite like that fateful night.

You hear a car quickly approaching behind you as you stare up at the gold trimmed sign of the entrance and you can practically feel him. You choose not to turn around, memories of your shopping trip still stuck in your mind like superglue.

Shopping with Yoongi was like a very failed, fucked up montage. You would try something on, come out of the dressing room and he would grimace and wave his hand while sipping champagne telling you to go put on something else.

Namjoon told you that he is a good person, and his life has been hard so being a dick is how he compensates. You want to believe him, but it’s just so hard.

“Little dove. Good morning,” you hear from behind you.

Angling your head to the voice, you take in his appearance. His black hair was combed back, a few odd hairs landing on his forehead. His eyes were fierce and piercing as always. And, his voice is as smooth as silk. For the first time, you notice two piercings on his left ear as he approaches. One is a small hoop made of diamonds and the other just a diamond stud. They look good on him, really fucking good.

“Hi.” you say, lifting your arm awkwardly to wave.

“You ready to see the Kisung heir?” he asks as he looks down at his Rolex.

Just the thought has a lump forming in your throat. Are you ready? This is all so fast and so fucked up.

“I think so,” you reply, earning half of a smirk from him.

“Let’s go up. We have other things to do today.” he tells you as he walks off to the entrance without you.

He makes you feel like such an intrusion. You really are a pauper in his lifestyle.

He holds the door open for you and you’re immediately hit with the smell that can only be akin to a hospital. It makes your stomach churn and suddenly you feel flush. Your skin prickles with heat, a thin layer of nervous sweat beginning to build up on your body.

Stopping at the entrance, you watch as nurses and doctors pass by without a second glance. The simple sight of scrubs and surgical caps is enough to have you leaning against the large potted plant that sits adjacent to the door.

Yoongi begins talking and the sound starts to drown out as you focus on the marble floor.

“Hey. Y/N.” you hear him call impatiently.

“Water,” you whisper softly as your vision begins to tunnel.

“Y/N?” he asks again, softer this time.

“I-I need water.” 

Your mouth is going dry and it’s starting to become hard to swallow.

Your shaky hand reaches out for the lip of the planter beside you to hold you steady.

“Oh fuck!” Yoongi yelps out, he catches your arm as you begin to fall.

“Can I get some water over here?!” he calls to the receptionist and they’re quick to do his bidding.

“I-I’m sorry,” you feel your eyelids getting heavy as you speak.

“Just relax. Calm down. What is it? Is it the kid?” he asks softly in your ear as he hauls you up. Tugging your arm just enough, he’s able to slide his body behind yours. You can feel the hard plains of his abs through his crisp shirt as he molds your body to his.

A receptionist rushes over with the bottle of water and he cracks it open quickly before handing it to you.

“Let’s sit down for a second. Come on,” he whispers in your ear.

Your feet feel as heavy as bricks while he pulls you over to the seating area. Tying your hair up in a ponytail, you lean back into the plush couch with a sigh.

“Drink the water.” he commands, his voice is gruff but the tone is riddled with nervousness.

You sip the water slowly, the spots in your eyes beginning to diminish as he puts his hand on your knee.

“Look at me, just focus on my face,” he calls, tapping his index finger beneath your chin.

Slowly turning your head to him, you can see his eyebrows furrowing with nerves. He cards his fingers through his hair as his thumb rubs gentle strokes on your knee.

“Is it...morning sickness?” he sounds uncomfortable even saying it. You feel uncomfortable hearing it.

You shake your head to him and that seems to make him relax just a bit.

“I have an irrational fear of hospitals,” you reply as your heartbeat begins to slow down. He tilts his head curiously and he wonders to himself what you’ve been through to get a panic attack quite like this.

Was it something that’s happened to you in the past? You seem to be scared of almost anything.

Usually, Yoongi would be annoyed at the mention of anything irrational. But, he fights it for once. For once, maybe he should be honest too.

“I’m afraid of hospitals too,” he admits to you.

“Really?” you ask as you press your hand to your stomach, the feeling of nausea slowly settling away.

His eyes flicker to your hand and he swallows uncomfortably. He turns his head to the large painting on the wall, he traces the abstract lines and shapes on the canvas before nodding.

“Yeah. It always smells weird and the thought of getting even more sick makes me nervous,” he says.

“Me too.” you murmur hopelessly as you look down at his hand on your knee.

“But, this hospital is really good. My family owns it. It’s one of three that we own in Seoul. You’re safe here. I promise,” he swears as he turns his attention back to you.

It’s almost comforting to hear his words. Right now, in this moment, it’s almost difficult to remember how much of an asshole he is.

“When you’re ready, we’ll go up,” he says softly.

His eyes drift over others in the lobby. They’re all staring. His hand rubs uncomfortably at the back of his neck and you follow his gaze.

He shouldn’t be down here with you like this. He’s married. It hits you all in one second.

“Let’s go.” you tell him as you stand up on shaky legs.

“No, Y/N. Wait. Sit down and relax. It’s okay.” he calls to you, but you’re already off to the elevators.

He watches as you slam the button for the elevator, his hands slide over the knees of his pants before he’s standing up to follow you.

Maybe you weren’t a leech. Maybe you were just kind.

You hold the door open for him and he brushes past people without an apology before stepping into the elevator.

“You have a fear of elevators too?” he quips but his joke is brisk and it makes you scowl.

“No.” you murmur as he pushes the fifth floor button.

The silence is uncomfortable as the doors slide shut, the saxophone elevator music would be comical if your crippling embarrassment wasn’t beginning to swallow you whole. Now that your senses were returning to you, you just seized up as soon as you stepped inside the hospital.

You almost fell on the fucking floor like a flopping fish! How embarrassing!

Yoongi can practically sense your nervousness. He can see it in the way your knees knock together, and certainly how your hand grips the railing of the elevator. Your knuckles are practically white as you stare at the floor.

He should find a way to make you feel better, he thinks anyway.

“I like your dress. Looks not so homeless,” he says and he closes his eyes at how he sounds.

Maybe Maya is right, he needs to think before he speaks.

“Oh. Nice. Thanks.” you mutter as you pull at the fabric of the dress.

So much for trying.

“No. I mean-”

“I wear deliciously brown burlap sacks. I got it.” you retort as the doors open. He sighs to himself slightly as he watches you leave him alone in the elevator.

You walk off without him and he’s only a few steps behind but he feels as if he’s losing his ground.

Not only did he almost beat up Park Jimin at the mention of you, but now he’s starting to feel sorry for the things he says? Just what the hell is going on?

But, he can see a different personality almost peeking out of you every time he confronts you. It’s almost nice to see you being different then just nervous and scared.

“Oh! Mr. Min! Right on time, you can follow me!” a nurse calls to him from the reception desk.

“This is the VIP wing, only my family is taken care of up here,” he announces to you. You feel his hand press gently to your lower back and you pull away uncomfortably as you follow the nurse.

His hand feels too comfortable on your back for your liking.

The VIP room is gigantic, so far beyond what you originally had thought just a little while ago when you were downstairs.

The table with stirrups looks intimidating and uncomfortable.

“Just take off your underwear and the doctor will be right in,” the nurse says, her hand slides over Yoongi’s shoulder and you find yourself grimacing at how comfortable he is with it.

It’s like he doesn’t even register that to normal people, that would be uncomfortable.

“Thanks Mira.” he says as he folds his arms.

You watch the door shut and you shake your head in disbelief as he casually sits down in the chair beside the examination table.

“You fuck her too?” you ask him as he pulls out his phone.

“Just once. She wasn't into what I'm into,” he replies calmly and you roll your eyes.

Looking around for somewhere shielded to take off your underwear, his eyebrow quips up.

“I have seen all of you before, y’know. You can just take off your panties and give them to me,” he gives you a big smile as he holds his hand out and you scowl at the notion.

“Asshole.” you whisper, earning a chuckle from him as you walk into the bathroom.

Taking off your underwear, you stare at yourself in the mirror. This was just an out of body experience at this point. You were so far beyond the point of anything making sense. Your life has quite literally changed in a matter of weeks and today you’d be moving into a completely different home. You’d be seeing your child that was a surprise. Everything was moving so fast and it’s so terrifying.

You put your underwear in your purse, one that Yoongi has actually bought you instead of having to borrow Leenas.

Yoongi hasn’t moved an inch as he looks up from his phone, “Your room is ready. The kid’s too. Looks good.” He says as you walk over to the table.

You can only wonder what it looks like, did he buy cheaper things because he feels like that’s all you deserve? Or did he buy expensive furniture to really sell just how much money he actually has?

“I didn’t buy the kid furniture though. Thought you might want to do that. Maya said women go through something called nesting? Sounds like a bird,” he says as he looks back down at his phone.

He sounds really fond of Maya. You wonder what she must be like for him, the king of assholes, to be fond of her.

“Sounds fun!” you reply earnestly as you hop up on the table.

“Fun?”

You hum in agreement as you pull the dress down lower to your knees. “I think picking out furniture and stuff is fun. Leena let me pick out all of the furniture for the penthouse apartment. I like doing that stuff.”

He nods, his lips puffing out like he’s almost impressed before the door opens.

The white lab coat the doctor wears is almost enough to send you into a spiral once more but before your breathing can even hitch you hear the father of your child. “Drink your water. Now.” he calls to you.

He doesn't know where it came from but all he knew was that the water helped before and you should feel better with it. He seemed to get protective of you in that mere second.

“Min Yoongi. A pleasure,” the doctor says as they shake hands.

You practically chug the water, the cooling liquid seems to bring you a sense of peace as he approaches you.

“Y/N, I’m assuming. It’s so nice to meet you,” you shake his hand and out of the corner of your eye you watch Yoongi stand tall before taking his place beside you.

“Hold my hand,” he instructs briskly and you grimace at the thought. He rolls his eyes as he grasps your wrist before placing your hand in his.

You notice just how sweaty his hand is… or is it your hand that’s sweating? There’s moisture, for sure.

“Are you ready to see the Kisung heir? This must be exciting!” the doctor says as he sits down on the rolling stool before you.

Swallowing thickly, you give a small nod. Now, the nerves are really getting to you. Yoongi squeezes your hand tighter before looking down at his phone like this isn’t important to him. Or as if he was trying to avoid it.

“Okay, how are you feeling, Y/N? Any nausea? Tiredness?” the doctor asks as he puts on gloves.

“I’ve been really tired lately. Not so much nausea,” the doctor nods as he sets up the ultrasound equipment.

“Any breast tenderness? Are you in pain?” the question peaks Yoongi’s curiosity and he looks up from his phone to look at you as you nod.

“Yeah, they’re really painful,” you reply softly, almost embarrassed at the questions.

He had no idea. You hadn’t said anything about pain.

“That’s normal. Abdominal pain too? Getting mildly bad cramps?” you nod again and the father of your child blanches.

Jesus, you don’t make it seem like you’re going through a rough time. You really may just be stronger than you look.

Maybe this is what Maya meant about you going through a difficult time.

“So, the things you want to look out for are lightheadedness, cramps, very little vaginal bleeding, breast changes, food aversions, mood swings, and increased vaginal discharge,” you nod studiously as he grasps what looks like a wand in hand.

“You got all that, dad?” Yoongi’s eyes widen and he points to himself in confusion.

“Who? Me?” he asks aloud and you hide your smirk behind your hand as the doctor nods.

“Yeah, you. You got her into this mess, right?” yhe doctor jokes as he rolls a condom onto the end of the wand.

Yoongi scoffs gently. “Well it takes two to tango.” he mumbles to himself uncomfortably.

Your giggle makes him instantly relax. This isn’t the first time this has happened and it’s beginning to really freak him the fuck out. Sometimes, the things you do calm him so easily, set him into such a state of peace. It’s terrifying.

“This may be uncomfortable for you. I’m going to insert this and we’ll be able to see your baby,” the doctor says to you.

With a nod, you look at the black screen of the ultrasound machine. Yoongi buries his face farther into his phone at the mention of seeing his kid.

But, he’s pulled out almost instantaneously as you squeak out uncomfortably as the wand invades you. Your hand grips tighter in his and his eyes are on you in a second.

“You’re alright. Don’t worry,” he doesn’t know where the kind words came from but he doesn’t take them back.

The screen begins to shift to dark greys and whites, earning Yoongi’s attention.

“We may be able to hear a heartbeat, we’ll find out.” the doctor says happily.

You wriggle uncomfortably as the wand continues to invade you. Squeezing your hand a few times to try and set you right, Yoongi stares at the screen with a raised eyebrow.

“There!” the doctor says loudly and you both jump with nervousness as you see the small blip on the screen.

It’s so small.

You feel your throat clenching uncomfortably and you close your eyes for a second to make sure this is real.

For Yoongi, he feels his heart begin to beat faster. He can practically hear it in his ears as he squeezes your hand tighter.

This was his kid. He fucking made this. He has to become a parent to this small little thing.

“Oh my God.” he mumbles to himself, but in the large silent room you can hear him so clearly.

“Let’s see if we can hear the heartbeat,” the doctor says before pushing a button on the machine.

The sound is voraciously loud in your ears. The heartbeat is strong and unwavering. It makes you smile. Although this isn’t what you had planned, it feels good to see your child.

Yoongi lets go of your hand quickly, as if you had burnt him. He pockets his phone and his hands before looking down at the ground uncomfortably.

“What do you think, dad?” the doctor asks him happily.

What the fuck does he think? That this is terrifying. That he made a child he has to take care of. He thinks that he’s not ready, at all!

But, it’s his child. That heartbeat -- he made that. He created something so small and so perfect.

His eyes begin to burn uncomfortably, as if he’s about to cry and he makes his way back to the seat before plopping down and taking in a deep breath.

“I think it looks like some sort of weird worm,” he replies to the doctor.

Snorting gently, you tilt your head at the screen.

“Like a sesame gremlin,” you say.

Just your words make him chuckle and he looks down at his shoes before closing his eyes once more.

“So the baby’s heartbeat is really strong which is great! From the size, it’s about five weeks and three days old. Everything looks great, but you’ll be coming back once a month to make sure things aren’t changing or getting out of hand. We’ll take a blood test now to see how your levels are but other than that, things look really good over here. Congratulations.” 

That was the first time either of you have been congratulated on the news.

Yoongi can feel himself filling with something akin to pride.

It almost makes him respect you more. You’re carrying his child.

Looking over at you, he feels as if he’s never actually looked at you before. He’s always known how beautiful you are. But now something feels different. It feels explosive. Like something cosmic was coming into being.

“I’m going to give you some prenatal vitamins for you to take, no smoking, no drinking, no raw fish, no hot tubs or saunas, you should eat really well, drink a lot of water and make sure you just take it easy,” the doctor says as he pulls the wand from you.

You can feel a weight lifting off of you as you look at your child. You certainly aren’t ready. You would never begin to call yourself ready but just seeing the child within you makes you hopeful.

“That’s it?” Yoongi asks the doctor, ripping his gaze away from you.

“That’s it! We’ll take the blood in another room near the elevator before you leave. I’ll get Mira to take her blood,” the doctor takes off his gloves and throws them in the garbage before clapping his hands finitely.

He helps you down from the examination table and you excuse yourself to the restroom suddenly feeling the urge to pee.

While he waits, Yoongi can’t stop staring at the screen. While the heartbeat isn’t loud in his ears any longer, the image of his child is still staring him dead in the face.

“Do you print those pictures?” he asks softly, looking over at the closed bathroom door.

“I can if you want me to.” the doctor replies as he sanitizes the examination table.

Yoongi nods at the thought. “Yeah. Can you print two sets?”

Waiting for the elevator, you squeeze your arm tightly trying to stop the blood flow from when Mira took your blood. She was eyeing Yoongi the whole time like a five star meal and it only got more uncomfortable as the minutes ticked on.

“Here.” the CEO says as he hands you a white envelope.

You look down at the package before tilting your head as you both get on to the elevator.

“What is it?” you ask as you open it up.

“The kid’s pictures. Thought you would want some of our sesame gremlin.” his voice sounds distant but you begin to smile at the small black and white photos before you.

“Did you get some for yourself?” you ask happily as you put the pictures in your purse.

He hits the button for the ground floor before leaning back against the railing of the elevator as it descends.

“Why would I need pictures of a five week old kid?” he retorts.

You shrug with a smirk before looking down into your purse and staring at the pictures.

His hand brushes the pocket of his suit pants, feeling his wallet that secretly holds the picture of your child.

The drive to Yoongi’s mansion sends butterflies fluttering around in your gut. This is like going to a new school in the middle of the year and being awkward and uncomfortable. The silence in the Rolls Royce apart from the random gusts of wind that come through the window don’t help either.

Yoongi is completely comfortable, his legs are outstretched as he scrolls through his phone. You wonder if there’s ever a time where he doesn’t look like he stepped right out of Time magazine.

“Oh, here.” he says as he pulls out a credit card before handing it to you.

You hold the black card in your hand for a second, the weight is as light as paper but just the notion feels heavy.

You throw the card into your purse without a second thought and you miss how Yoongi smirks at your actions.

“You’ll also have a driver. I picked out Minho. But, if you don’t like him then I can get someone else.” his voice is flippant. He’s probably used to firing a bunch of people without wondering about their home life and how much they need their jobs.

The car pulls up to the gated community which Yoongi lives in. Now, you too.

“Welcome to my home. Well...our home.” He says as the car drives past a large fountain that is spurting water on all sides.

You take in a bunch of large mansions as the car drives down the large stretch of road that is lined by pretty cherry blossom trees. Everything about this is so picturesque. You can imagine just how gorgeous his house must be.

“Wow!” your voice is above a whisper as you look off into the distance. You can see a few people riding horses in the far off distance.

“Namjoon’s wife loves horses. She breeds them for contests.” Yoongi states as he follows your gaze.

Leena has told you so much about high profile life, but actually being here surrounded by what feels like billions of dollars is jarring. It’s almost difficult to put into words.

Every stone, every tree, even the flowers seem like they’re perfectly placed as you continue to drive.

“Don’t go into Sera’s wing please. I don’t want to hear her bitch,” he grumbles as he puts his fist beneath his chin.

You give a small nod to him understanding before looking ahead as his mansion comes into view.

“You got knocked up by the right person, huh?” he chuckles as your mouth opens slightly at the sight.

The face of the house is enough to make someone weep, it’s all marble with black quarts trimming and large perfectly clean windows. Each piece of marble is perfectly cut and precise. It’s almost too beautiful to look at.

“I had an architect from Greece come out and build my home. I used to live in it alone until y’know, the demon came.” he says as the car drives around the large marble fountain in front.

“Jeez.” you whisper as he gets out of the car first.

You follow behind him not knowing where to look and wanting to look at all of it. The house spreads out wide and surrounding it are gorgeously cut hedges and tall growing flowers that look perfectly taken care of.

“So. The first two wings on the bottom floor are the gallery. Don’t fucking touch anything. There’s millions of dollars in paintings and statues.” Yoongi says as he steps up the black quartz stairs.

There’s even a man at the front to open up the double doors for him. Which is ridiculously posh and so completely out of your element. Your eyes gaze upward taking the whole house in and you swallow at the sight.

“Little dove, I really don’t have all day. Get your pert ass inside.” Yoongi calls to you as he enters without you.

You follow behind him clumsily, thanking the doorman who gives you a smile in return.

Stepping into the entryway, you can all but marvel at how gorgeous everything is. You do not belong here.

“It’s like a museum,” you whisper and you jump at how loud your voice is in the quiet area.

“Whenever I go out of the country, I like to pick up art or a statue. They’re collectors pieces. Do not fucking touch anything.” he warns you. 

Nodding quickly, you look down the large stretch of the front wings before following him as he continues into the house.

You'll definitely have to look at all of the beautiful art later.

His hands clasp behind his back and you grip tighter onto your purse afraid to touch anything.

None of this looks real, it’s so grandiose and so amazing that it feels like you’ve stepped into a movie.

“Both of these staircases lead up to either wing. Our wing is the right one.”

Walking past the staircases, you spot a sitting room filled with luxurious black furniture and so many throw pillows you have no idea how anyone would sit on them. They seem like they’ve never been touched before. A bar lines the wall behind it and your eyes widen at how fancy it looks. Mirrors line the back of the bar and the dark oak trimming really brings the room together.

“We don’t sit down here in the sitting room. It’s more for show. Doesn’t mean you can’t, it’s your house now too. But, you have your own living room upstairs in your room.” Yoongi says and you turn to him slowly as he leans against a carved marble pillar.

“I have a living room in my bedroom?” you ask softly to which he grins.

“Yeah. Doesn’t everyone?” he quips with a chuckle.

You blanch at the thought before rolling your eyes as he winks at you.

“Come.” he commands as he pushes off the pillar.

“Holy shit.” you mumble as you walk further into the house.

The kitchen is fully open, with two marble islands and top of the range equipment that make you gasp. There’s a long bar lined with chairs that barricades the kitchen from you so you can eat and it makes you blink rapidly at the sight. You can see people working in it, keeping the place tidy and at the mere sight of Yoongi they bow deeply before returning back to work.

“We have a chef from five in the morning to twelve at night.” Yoongi tells you as he leans against the long bar.

The chandeliers that line the place are absolutely beautiful and yet again, you have no idea where to look.

“This is the dining room, where we don’t eat because it’s for parties and I don’t host parties. The leech does.” Yoongi says as he slides open two cherry wood doors beside the kitchen. The table is long and beautiful bouquets of flowers line the cherry wood top.

“Jesus Christ.” you whisper as you clutch the purse tighter to your body.

He closes up the doors before putting his hand on your lower back and pushing you past the kitchen.

“This door right here leads to the maid’s quarters. You don’t have any reason to go there.”

You nod to him as a maid opens up the door before bowing to you both and heading towards the kitchen.

“This is the library slash poker room. Thursday nights are for poker. It’s one of my hobbies.” he says as he grips the gold handles before shoving open the doors.

You’ve always loved reading, maybe in here you can find some good books and take them to your bedroom to read.

“Do you like reading?” he asks softly as you step inside.

“I love reading!” you reply as your fingers graze the marble bookshelves that line the walls from top to bottom.

You then realize how rude it was of you to just barge in and start touching stuff. “Sorry.” you murmur as Yoongi walks over to the bar caddy.

He pours himself a glass of whisky before shaking his head at you.

“This is your home now too. You don’t have to be scared, little dove.” he says above the lip of his glass before downing the contents in one burning go.

Your eyes spot a few books that look interesting and you make a mental note to check them out later when you’re settled in.

“Past this room is the game room. There’s a pool table and some old fashioned pinball machines. Stuff for decoration mostly.” 

It brings up a question that just bursts free from you.

“So you’re exorbitantly rich, you have all of these cool things inside of your home and you never use any of them?” you ask as he closes the library doors behind you.

“Well in order to be exorbitantly rich, you need to work hard. I don’t have time to just sit on my ass and play Pac Man all damn day, little dove.” he whispers in your ear. You blush at how insensitive it must have sounded.

“Through those glass doors is the indoor pool. It’s heated but not too hot for the baby,” he tells you as a maid opens the doors for you both.

He comes to realize that was the first time he hasn’t called your child ‘kid’ or ‘thing’ around you.

Maybe seeing the small sesame gremlin on the screen really did do something to him.

“Wow. This is amazing Yoongi. Your parents must be so proud of you.” you say as you walk along the heated floor of the pool. He chuckles to himself as you look at the marble recliners that are for relaxing on the side.

“Parents.” he snort at the notion.

He tilts his head cryptically as you look out the glass walls of the room. It’s almost as if you’re in a snow globe. Every wall is glass, there’s some stained glass pieces that fleck the floor with pretty colors as the sun comes out from behind a cloud.

“Shall we go up to our win-” his voice is cut off by screaming in the distance and you jump at the screeching noise.

“That’s the leech. She probably lost a follower on Instagram.” he says as his hand wraps around your arm before tugging you toward the noise.

While you haven’t been fully versed in just how evil Sera is, you’re positively nervous to see her. Leena told you to look her up on the Internet but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You were too frightened for what you would find.

“Sir!” the voice is absolutely elated and so sweet sounding that it puts a small smile on your face.

Yoongi positively lights up as an older woman approaches the both of you from the maid’s quarters. Her hair is in a neat bun and her clothes are wrinkle free. She seems a bit older and has a tan to her skin as if she’s been out in the sun working.

“Y/N. This is Maya. Head maid.” you shake her hand happily as Yoongi begins to smile.

“It’s so nice to meet you! I've heard amazing things about you!” you say happily as she puts her hands on her hips.

“Well! Aren’t you just absolutely gorgeous! Welcome to the home Madam, I’m so happy to be of service to you!” Her words are so kind and she’s so sweet but it’s the intent of the words that make you feel uncomfortable.

“Oh, Maya. No. You can call me Y/N. You don’t have to treat me like Yo-”

“Nonsense! You’re a big part of the home just as much as the other two that live here! Don’t be silly!” you hum uncomfortably as Yoongi snorts.

“Please be as kind to Maya as you possibly can. She’s an angel.” 

This is the first time that you’ve heard him speak so kindly about someone. It’s heartwarming, if you’re being honest.

“Let me take your purse.” Maya says softly, noticing how you clutch onto it for comfort.

“Oh no. It’s okay.”

“Give her the purse, little dove.” Yoongi retorts before snapping his fingers as you pass the kitchen.

“Yes, Sir?” a woman in the kitchen asks as he stops short.

“What do you like? Strawberry? Lemon?” he asks as he leans into the long marble bar.

“Both.” you reply curiously.

“Strawberry lemon sparkling water. And a vintage whisky. Now.” he calls out before turning back to you and Maya.

“Show Maya the pictures.” he says as his whisky is handed to him.

He must love her a lot. His demeanor seems to change when she’s around like no other.

Digging into your purse, you pull out the black and white pictures of your baby before handing them to her.

“Oh my goodness! Look at this! How amazing! With such a handsome father and a beautiful mother, your baby is going to be absolutely breathtaking!” Maya says and her voice seems to choke up as she stares at the picture. She turns thoughtful as her thumb swipes slowly over the picture in hand.

“I raised Yoongi from when he was very little, y’know.” Maya says proudly as she hands you back the pictures.

That’s news to you.

“Okay, Maya.” Yoongi mumbles uncomfortably.

“You did a great job,” you compliment her and her smile is megawatt as she rubs your arm comfortingly with her hand.

Yoongi smirks above the rim of his glass before tilting his head. Maybe you two would get along, you’re kind enough and Maya certainly is. Maybe there won’t be so much toxicity around the mansion anymore.

“Do you like to cook?” you ask her gently as Yoongi pulls the seat out of the bar for you to sit.

“I love cooking! Although Frederic is in the kitchen seven days a week, I hardly get to use it.” Maya says as she fixes Yoongi’s tie. 

You watch how well she takes care of him, how she babies him and how he doesn’t move or feel uncomfortable at the notion. It’s like watching a rabid dog be kind only to his owner.

“Maybe soon, we can get in the kitchen together. I love cooking too. Give Frederic the night off.” you offer with a smile.

The smile lines by her eyes crease in delight at your suggestion. “That would be a lot of fun. I’d love that.”

“I would get a night off? That sounds amazing to me.” you hear a heavy French accent behind you and you turn to the chef as he hands you your water. He winks at you with a smile and you return it before sipping your water.

“Wow!” you whisper at the taste.

“Everything is better in the higher class.” Yoongi whispers.

“MAYA!” You hear scream throughout the mansion and you cringe at the sharp noise.

Jesus, she is loud.

Everyone in this house is so nice and kind. Even if you feel uncomfortable living here, the people may make up for it.

“Yes, Madam?” Maya calls sweetly as her thin frame peeks down from the second floor.

Even from far away Sera is blindingly beautiful. Her cheekbones are high and filled perfectly, her lips are the perfect pout and her eyes are big and doe-like. She’s absolutely stunning.

“Didn’t I fucking tell you to put a different fabric softener in the laundry? I don’t like my clothes smelling like a fucking flower field!” She barks out as she throws something off of the marble balcony onto the floor.

“I’m sorry, Madam. I must have forgotten. I won’t forget again.” Maya promises as she scurries over to the dropped shirt.

It’s almost a sin to watch the sweet woman fumble over herself to please her. While she may be beautiful, she’s a bitch. And, you’d hate to be confronted by her by any means.

“Bitch.” you and Yoongi mumble at the same time. He chuckles to himself as her gaze lands on you and you find yourself wanting to cower but the way Maya shifts nervously makes you angry. Really fucking angry.

“What the fuck is that? A new maid? Or a dig ditcher?” Sera barks out as she points her perfectly manicured finger at you.

Yoongi opens his mouth to speak but you beat him to it. “I’m Y/N. The mother of Yoongi’s child.” you call to her.

Her face begins to flush pink before she’s scoffing. “Should have picked someone prettier Yoongi, ugly women make ugly kids!” she calls down to him as she retreats back to her wing.

“Ugly personalities make ugly people.” you retort softly, bringing your glass of water to your lips.

The father of your child chuckles softly beside you and your heart warms at the noise.

“That’s the leech. I’m sure you’re thrilled to have met her.” you hum playfully in agreement before hopping off the bar stool.

The only thing in Yoongi’s mind is just how right this all feels. How perfect you are as a person, to each and every person you see. You’re strong willed and stronger than he previously thought but he likes it. And, he wants to see you come out of your shell here. He wants to see you thrive like a flower.

Maybe he should ease up on being so downright negative around you.

“Let’s do the rest of the tour and then you can relax. Alright?” he asks as he guides you to the staircase.

“Madam!” Maya calls to you and you don’t register the word for a second before turning to her with a smile.

“I’m really happy you’re here.” Maya says sweetly and you giggle as she bows to you.

“Me too, Maya. Thank you for being so welcoming!” you reply happily as you ascend the steps with the CEO.

“One half is mine, the other half is yours. My side is the right side and yours is, well obviously, the left.” Yoongi says as his hand drifts over the black quartz wall.

At the end of the long wing, you can spot rushing waterfalls that come out of the walls and into the floor, the sound is comforting as you get closer.

“So the third floor of the mansion is for my hobbies in particular and my home office. I rarely use my home office but it’s up there if you ever need me and I work from home.” Hobbies? What kind of hobbies does he have?

“Taehyung told me that you like painting? Apparently Leena talks a lot about you in her post coital glow-” you laugh at his words as he swings the first door open, “- So I got you some painting supplies and turned this room into a studio for you. It’s really bright so you can work well.”

It’s so thoughtful. The studio is beautiful, canvases of all sizes line the walls and the amount of paints and brushes are almost too good to be true.

“Thank you, Yoongi. That’s so kind of you.” you say as you step into the room.

Your fingers gently graze over the fluffy heads of the brushes before turning to him in the doorway and smiling.

“I do love to paint.” you say happily as he leans against the door jamb with folded arms.

“I just won’t paint anything orange.” he rolls his eyes with a snort at your comment before pushing off of the doorway and moving on to the next room.

“This is your closet. I had all of your clothes moved in here, even the ones you insisted on bringing here. I’m a giver.” 

You roll your eyes at how degrading he is and you don’t even open the doors to your closet as you walk past.

You don’t care about materialistic objects like clothes or bags. You think the mansion is gorgeous but it’s just all materialistic stuff! It shouldn’t mean that much to someone.

“This is the nursery. It’s pretty empty still. Maya thought it would be a good idea to put in the rocking chair she used with me so...that’s in there.” 

The admission makes your eyebrows raise. She must have taken care of him from when he was so small. Maybe Maya is like his mother, that’s why he loves her so much.

“Then this room is your room,” he continues on, not wanting to stand in the nursery for longer than two minutes. Just looking into the room reminds him of the pictures that sit heavily in his wallet.

When you open the doors to your room, the wind is almost knocked out of you. This is not a room. This is a fucking house. A small living room and a television situate themselves before your eyes and you walk around the thin marble wall that shields your bedroom from view.

You have a balcony, sitting chairs, a fucking vanity and the bed is so gigantic it can probably hold four people comfortably with room to spare.

Even the sight of the en suite bathroom is enough to knock you on your ass.

“Jesus Christ. This is... Wow.” you say breathlessly as you sit down on your bed.

“Now do the finer objects in life hold weight?” Yoongi jokes as he sits down in the armchair by the balcony.

“Not everything is about money, Yoongi.” you retort as your hand skims over the plush black comforter.

“No. Not everything. But, it’s still nice.” he says as he lifts his whisky glass to his lips.

“There’s a television in the bench at the end of the bed.” he whispers loudly across the room to you.

“A...television in a bench?” you mutter pulling your legs off of the bench and onto the bed.

“Mmmhmmm.” he drolls with a chuckle.

You’re so absolutely stunned at all of this. This is where you live now. This is your home.

He can tell just how starry eyed you are by all of this. It must be overwhelming to be thrust into such money from out of nowhere.

“I’ll leave you to it then.” he says as he slaps his knee. Your mouth opens and your hand raises to wave goodbye but he doesn’t look back at you.

You look around your room once more taking in all of the new gadgets and toys before throwing yourself back on your bed. Your hair fans out around your head as you stare up at the silver chandelier above you.

“Jesus Christ.” You mumble before turning and pressing your face into a pillow.

Next Chapter --->

Third Wheeling Taglist- @wickizer, @imluckybitches, @slothykreuger, @claireelise19, @ggukkieland, @rspbrryy, @iv-bts, @bambuzlee, @chanelbts, @mxxngxdss, @bluewhale52, @milesjeon11, @diamonddia-mond, @vinylphwoar, @yxnxxli, @hubbytaehyung, @140503at-dawn, @bts-7beauts, @jadeblackwoll, @sunshiine-hobii, @creatorspalace, @eclectically-esoteric, @nikkiordonez12, @kaitswrld, @skamlover200, @sevgilove98, @kooeuphoria, @jikooksgirl19, @hobbledehoy26, @singular-itae, @dchimminie, @lowlifeoeuvre, @sugaslittlekookies, @bloopbloopb, @pjmcth, @softysuho, @codeinbelle, @jaiuneamesolitaiire, @betysotelo18, @jeonmisha, @iwanttohitmyself, @ayyyocee, @neverthefirstchoice, @itsbangtanoclock, @little7bitchh, @veryuniquenamegoeshere, @deathkat657, @firstlovesuga-93, @namjoonia, @paperpurple, @muzikabijou, @liebeoppa, @veronawrites, @kleff03, @ruinsofangels, @brightwingr5, @leekanchol, @rkivemagic, @ithinkileftmycoatoutside, @melaninkpops, @y00ngisbabygirl, @ungodlyjoon, @prochnost513, @dunixxd, @athenakyle, @igotnotype, @chxmachxps, @tinymintyoongi, @vangameren-blog, @alpaca1612, @ohcarolinamin, @thegreatestsushi, @jooniebugg, @eltrain80, @btsmylife21, @deeepvibes, @httpminyg, @deliciouslydisturbed365​, @rkchmestizangmaldita​, @jimin-chu​, 

Some people couldn’t be tagged, I’m so sorry about that!

[ipuckwithhockey]

Just Ask- N. Patrick

a/n: More Nolan stuff? Yup. I should preface this with the fact that we should all be considerate of all hockeys and their personal lives. They have lives that do not include us and we should respect that. This includes their online accounts whether they are private or public. I say that because this does slightly touch on Nolan’s music taste/interest in music, but there’s nothing specific. Also, lets remember that this is all fiction! We’re just here to have some fun. Anyway, this is a short one, nothing too crazy. Let me know what y’all think!

warnings: drinking, swearing

------

Meeting the Flyers was a byproduct of your friendship with Carly. The two of you have been friends for ages and she introduced you to the boys early into her relationship with Travis. You were able to avoid being the consistent third wheel by finding a comfortable place within Travis’ group of friends. Although Carly and Travis have insisted that they try to set you up with someone on the team, you continually refused, saying that it would be awkward if it didn’t work out. Not to mention the fact that you didn’t think any of the guys were interested.

The lovesick couple bothered you about it for ages, trying to push Beezer and Frosty on you, and then saying that you and Nolan would be “so cute” together. Joel and Morgan were great, you loved them both dearly, but there was no way you were dating either one of them. They were more compatible with each other than with you.

However, the last one you didn’t disagree with. You agreed, and thought that you and Nolan would make an exceptionally cute couple. It takes two to tango though, and Nolan definitely isn’t interested. Nolan has always been friendly and your personalities mesh well enough that you would consider him a good friend. The two of you even hang out by yourselves when TK and Carly cancel on you to do god knows what. You’ll grab food or watch a movie, but he has never made any inclination that he feels anything more than platonic towards you.

Nolan is shy, and dry, yet incredibly funny. He’s blunt and has a few sharp edges to him, but he’s not the fiery time bomb that TK resembles. He’s more reserved, laid back, and you can feel at ease with him because of it. You loved Travis to bits, and he was the perfect match for Carly’s outgoing personality, but you can only handle so much of him.

Take right now for example. You’re standing in the kitchen of a post-win house party, and Travis is incessantly nagging you to go talk to Nolan. The house you’re in is full to the brim with people you’re sure they don’t know and you and Travis are in the kitchen fixing yourselves another round of drinks. From where you’re standing you can see Nolan in the family room towering over a few doe eyed girls who hang on his every word. They are fixated on him, and you think that he could tell them to get on their knees right then and there and they would do it gladly. (You’re not sure you would say no either, so no judgement there.) 

You’ve seen him take girls home from parties and bars, and he’s seen you with your fair share of conquests as well. It doesn’t bother you, and you figure it doesn’t bother Nolan either. Would you mind being the girl he took home? No, not at all, but unfortunately that was a role you would probably never be cast in. Even if you were you wouldn’t want to be one of those other girls anyway. You wanted to be the girl. You wanted to be the girl who made him forget about all the girls before you.

Your silent pining was becoming a little sad, and as much as you hated it, you couldn’t do anything to change how you felt about him. When you first met Nolan, you figured your little crush would soon dissipate, but the opposite ended up occurring. Now you were the sad, lonely, pining girl. You hated being her, but you couldn’t help it. You were totally gone for him.

“Come on, he’s not even listening to whatever those girls are saying to him. And you know he’s been checking you out since you got here.” Travis lays it out simply for you but you’re quick to refute, “Trav, he’s only looking over here because you haven’t stopped staring at him all night. If any two people at this party are into each other it’s you and Nolan, not me and Nolan.”

“What are you guys getting so heated about over here? And why do you keep looking at Nolan like that, Trav?” Carly comes over to tuck herself into Travis’ side as he puts his arm around her. You make a face at Travis as to say, “I told you.”

“He won’t leave me alone about Nolan, thinks I should go over there and interrupt the fan club.” You motion in the direction of where Nolan is still standing in front of his little doe eyed fans.

Carly’s eyes light up, “Oh, he totally checked you out earlier! You should go over there. Scare all those little girls away. They never had a chance anyway,” she explains matter-of-factly.

“Carly! You’re supposed to me on my side, remember?” You look between your friend and her boyfriend, who’s grin is getting bigger and bigger as spreads across his face.

“Look, you can deny it for as long as you like, but he’s totally into you, and you’re totally into him. Travis and I both know it.” Carly and Travis look so satisfied with themselves, that they think they’ve played matchmaker between the two of you, but you’re still not convinced.

“Ok, give me 5 reasons you think he could possibly like me, or that we are somehow compatible, and then maybe I’ll go over there.” You motion back in Nolan’s direction.

Travis is quick to the pitch, “You’re both oddly quiet. Like it kind of freaks me out when I come into the room and it’s just the two of you sitting there on the couch, and you’re not even talking! Sometimes the TV isn’t even on. It’s just silent. Like who even does that?”

This elicits an eye roll from you as you remember the many times Travis has walked in on you and Nolan sitting in a quiet room together, neither of you feeling the need to constantly fill the air with pointless conversation. Travis has never understood it.

“What about how Nolan always gets you drinks when we’re out?” Carly chimes in.  “He doesn’t do that for everyone. Hell, I don’t think he’s ever asked me if I needed another when he’s headed up to the bar.”

You’ve never noticed that he doesn’t ask anyone else when he goes up to the bar. Thinking about it now, it does seem kind of odd. But the two of you will often find yourselves next to each other while you’re stuffed inside a packed bar on any given weekend, and you figure he’s just being nice since you’re usually one of the only single ones there.

“That’s only two, and your reasoning is horrible. He’s just being nice and being introverted is not a crime.” You lean back onto the counter behind you as you cross your arms in front of your chest.  Now you’re facing toward the open room where one of the girls has inched her way closer to Nolan.

“He’s been a lot more excited to go out lately. He always asks if you’re coming. The last time we all went out I gave him a hard time about it. I don’t think his face has ever been that red.” Travis explains. “That’s another one! Whenever you show up or you do that thing that girls do when they’re flirting, you know the one where they touch a guy’s arm when they’re talking, he gets so red. Like tomato red.” Travis isn’t very eloquent in delivery, but you understand what he’s saying. “That’s four, baby.” He reminds you.

“He gets red when anyone talks to him and whenever anyone is brave enough to touch him. And I do not do that flirting thing.”  You look to Carly for reassurance, “Do I?” you ask.  She doesn’t offer the reassurance you were looking for, instead stating, “Oh, you totally do that. Sorry, you’re just not that subtle.”

“Oh my god.” You let your head hang back as you look up to the ceiling, “He probably thinks I’m an idiot or just creepy.” You really didn’t think you were that obvious, but clearly you were wrong. He probably feels bad for you because he knows you’re totally into him. “Well, if that wasn’t enough to deter me from ever speaking to him again, that’s still only four, so I think I’m going to call it a night and head home and then never show my face near Nolan again.” You try to exit the kitchen with the last bit of dignity you have left but Travis is quick to jump in front of you.

“Nope. I have a fifth one.” He’s standing there with is hands on his hips and you’re sure he thinks it makes him look more commanding. You just roll your eyes for what feels like the millionth time tonight.

“Really? You think it’s good enough to get me over there?” You quip back at him as you nod back towards Nolan.

“Oh yeah.” He nods back, “And if it makes you feel better Nolan is super obvious too. Like I said, tomato red.”

“So, are you going to tell me the fifth reason or are you just going to keep me hostage here all night?” Now you’re mimicking his stance with your hands placed firmly on your hips.

“It pains me to admit this one because he doesn’t even let me do this,” Travis sighs. “He lets you have the aux every time you’re in his car. No questions asked, he just lets you play whatever you want. Doesn’t even complain about it!”

You’re processing what Travis is saying. Nolan did always let you choose the music in the car, but you didn’t think anything of it. You probably grabbed the aux without hesitation the first time you hopped in his car. That’s just what you always did with your friends. It never dawned on you that he might not let other people do that too.

It checks out though, Nolan loves his music. It’s important to him, and his perfectly curated playlists are like little works of art for him. You’ve watched him manicure his playlists for hours as he sits on the couch, and admittedly you have similar taste in music. Maybe that’s why he didn’t care? Maybe you just always chose songs that he would have also picked? Although there was that one week where you made him listen to the Frozen soundtrack on repeat. He probably wouldn’t have picked that one…

You don’t have time to decide on why you think Nolan would ever let you get away with something he holds so sacred because he has since left his group of girls and has found his way into the kitchen where you’re still squared off with Travis.

“You guys gonna pull your pistols out soon?” Nolan mumbles an announcement that he has entered the room, and you realize that you’re still stood in front of TK, both of you with your hands on your hips.

“Nope, we were actually just heading out to play pong, we’ll see you guys later!” Travis quickly ushers himself and Carly out of the room, and before you can protest, you’re left alone with Nolan. He’s leaning against the counter opposite to you, and when you move your eyes to rest on his figure you can’t help but do a quick intake of just how good he looks. He’s wearing the same basic outfit that just about every other guy in the house is sporting, and yet it looks so much better on him.

“What was that about? You guys okay?” Nolan asks.

“Uh- Yeah, Trav just being Trav, you know?” You attempt to brush off the topic of what you and Travis were discussing prior to Nolan’s arrival. Similar to those times that Travis was referencing, neither of you feel compelled to fill the air with unneeded dialogue, and you fall into a comfortable silence. Neither of you are saying anything now and Nolan takes the time to twist off the cap to another beer from the fridge.

“I was gonna go out back. It’s too hot in here, wanna come?” Nolan nods his head to the sliding glass door at the other end of the kitchen, and you respond by following him out to the deck. The quietness and crisp winter air that fills your lungs is refreshing. The two of you lean against the railing of the deck and enjoy the break from the chaos inside. You continue in your silence and you can’t help but watch as Nolan takes long drags of his beer, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

“Can I ask you a question?” You ask, and without speaking he nods, giving you the go ahead.

“Why don’t you let Travis have the aux?”

Nolan chuckles a bit, “Of all the things you could ask, that’s what you choose?” he retorts before answering, “If you must know, he has horrible taste in music. But also, I don’t let anyone have the aux. My car, my music. It’s the rules,” he states, taking another quick swig of his beer that’s almost empty now.

He confirmed what Travis had said to you, but you’re not convinced. There had to be a catch. He probably never realized that you did it. You’re sure of it.

“But you let me have the aux?” You form the sentence with a question mark on the end, and your eyes follow Nolan as he leans over the railing to look out into the backyard. He’s avoiding meeting your eye, and you can tell he’s thinking, deciding on what he’s about to say.

“Probably ‘cus I can’t say no to you,” the muttered words come out under his breath, like he doesn’t want you to hear it.

“What? What does that mean?” He lets out a huff of air as his hands push is his long hair back out of his face, something he only does when he’s stressed.

His body turns to face you now, “You could literally tell me to jump off a bridge or run through this house naked, and I would probably do it. No questions asked.”

The quizzical look that occupies your face prompts him to continue. He’s frustrated, you can tell, “I just don’t know how to say this without fucking us up as friends…” He starts to pivot away from you again, but you reach out for his arm, stopping him from leaving, “What if I don’t want to be friends?” You’ve chosen to be the bold one now, and if it bit you the ass you were just going to have to live with that, but you can’t help but feel like you’ve both been on the same page all along.

“You don’t want to be friends with me?” Hurt. Confusion. Annoyance. They all flash across Nolan’s face before you can interject again, “I don’t want to be just friends with you. I want to be more than that. I want to be the girl you take home when this party is over, and the girl who gets to wake up next to you every morning after, and even if you don’t want that, you need to know that’s how I feel about yo—“

He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’tt pull you into a heart wrenching kiss, there aren’t fireworks playing behind you. To your surprise, Nolan has chosen to haul you over his shoulder, your arms falling over his back as he walks swiftly back into the house.

“NOLAN! What the fuck!? Put me down!” You yell at him as he continues to carry through the house. The party is so wild by now that you’re sure no one even notices the 6’2 hockey player with a girl over his shoulder.

“Nolan! Seriously. Put me down!” You’re feel like a little toddler who has gotten herself in trouble, and when Nolan finally does place your feet back on the ground, you’re outside next to his car that is parked in front of the house. He sets you down, and you’re slightly dizzy from being swung around like a rag doll, but he steadies you in front of him with his hands on your waist.

“What the fuck was tha—”

He cuts you off again, but this time he isn’t hauling your body into the air. This time his hands are on either side of your face and his lips find yours and there are even metaphorical fireworks going off as you kiss him back. You stand there, pushed against the side of his car, with his hands tangled in your hair, and your tongues exploring each other mouths. When you finally come up for air he pushes back away from you so that he can meet your eye.

“If you wanted to be that girl all you had to do was ask.” A smirk is plastered across his face, and you lightly shove at his chest even though it does little to move his large figure.

You surrender, “Okay, but we have to get an Uber, we’ve both had too much to drive.” You can’t help but grin back at him as he reaches for his phone to order a car for the both of you. When the car arrives, you get in to head back to Nolan’s apartment with your hands wrapped together. “I can’t believe Travis was right,” you say as you let your head rest on Nolan’s shoulder and he turns his head to you with his eyebrow furrowed, “Right about what?”

[miko32]

Obey Me The Lost Lamb and the Seven Avatar of Sin Chapter 3

Okay now into the boys introduction 😘

"...elp, help me

" please save me,"

"The bad guys caught me,"

"You are different, so I'm sure you can save me."

"I beg you. You must find me."

…

The light blinds her that she can't help going back to the darkness. A distant voice. More voices from different people. Are they? Were her encounter with the demons all dreams?

Desperate, Kristin struggles to open her eyes. A squeal from her side as they exclaim her movement. Her eyes adjust to the three floating heads. She groans and sees three different people watching her from a bedside. 

"Hello, sleeping beauty! You look so beautiful, I almost kissed you!" It's the same pink-haired man she saw on the court. Beside him is the redhead who keeps talking about eating her. Kristin groans. It wasn't a dream. 

"Nooo…" Kristin put her hands crossed her face, closing her eyes as she did. 

"Heh?! Is that how you react to seeing my beautiful face?! How dare you, human!" Asmo complains, glaring at Kristin.

"That is enough, Asmodeus,"

Kristin flinches at the deep dark voice. She opened an eye, and behind the blonde strawberry, the fallen angel himself. 

"How are you feeling, Kristin?"

Kristin tries to move, her body is stiff and uncomfortable. She tries to sit up. "Hmm, how long was I asleep?"

"Just a day," Beel answered. "You humans are so fragile,"

Kristin glared at the demon. "Well, humans don't transform into sheep, twice!" she added. Kristin remembered how she turned back into a human, naked! Kristin looks down. She's wearing full pajamas with black sheep icons. She did not have these pajamas. 

"Do you like it?" Kristin whipped around the blond strawberries demon. "I choose it especially for you," the demon purred at her. Kristin crossed her arms on her chest protectively, did this demon…?!

"Hey! Don't get too hopeful, human; we will never let Asmo change you into those pajamas!" Kristin turned at the demon with white hair at the end of her bed. The demon Mammon scolded. "As if we let the avatar of Lust touch you like that, Lucifer would have a fit!"

Kristin shivered at the new demon; how many are they?? "Then, then, then!" 

"I assure you, it wasn't any of us," Lucifer spoke. "It's them," Lucifer snaps his finger. Kristin thought they might have a maid here. What came out instead were little black blots with eyes and wide smiled shows their pointy teeth. 

"Eep!" Kristin shriek. 

"Hi!"

"Hello!"

"Nice to meet you, human!"

"Uhhhh, her soul looks shiny! No wonder Lucifer choose you!" 

"Enough!" Lucifer command and the little blots back off from the human. "They are Little D's; they are low-level demons servants in the castle and ours," 

Kristin looks back at the four little D's playing with each other. 

I have no idea what to feel knowing these creatures put on my clothes. They look cute, though. Kristin nodded. Lucifer flicks his wrist and swooshes away the Little D's. 

"What's happening next?" Kristin asked, rubbing the side of her face and feeling overwhelmed by all the strange things happening next to the next. 

"If you feel well enough, I should introduce you to my brothers," Lucifer spoke.

"Brothers?!"

"Yes, as much as I dread the idea of doing so," Lucifer sighs, Kristin glares at him. Hate much? 

Asmo protested. "Oh, come now. Really? You should be honored to be introduced to such a sweet little brother like me!"

Lucifer sighed heavily and said. "This one here is Asmodeus. He's the fifth eldest. He is the avatar of Lust."

"Wh…! I can't believe you ignored me! And refer to me as this one! How rude!"

"Hmph. At least he didn't ignore you altogether. How do you think I feel?" Kristin leaned forward and saw the blonde demon who held her when she was the sheep. 

"That one there is Satan, the fourth eldest of us. At first glance, he may seem like a responsible demon with a good head on his shoulder, but looks can be deceiving." Lucifer continued, ignoring Asmo's rant.

"Ah, so that's how you want to introduce me," Satan scowled at Lucifer and turned to Kristin with a smile. "I am Satan, the avatar of Wrath,"

Kristin put a hand up. "Wait the minute, the avatar of lust and wrath?" She pointed to Asmo and Satan.  "So, you demons represent the seven sins?"

"Not represent, we are more the embodiment of sin." Satan explained. 

"It sums up what Satan is about, he may flash you a pretty smile like that, but be careful because it is all an act." Lucifer added. 

"Huh?! If you continue saying such nonsense, you'll scare Kristin." Satan voiced annoyance to his brother. Kristin felt chill at Satan's. His whole aura changed into something heavy and angry. Satan turned at Kristin with that smile he gave when he cornered her. Kristin stays still on her bed. "Don't take him too seriously, Kristin. He is the Avatar of Pride, so he enjoys speaking ill of his brothers," 

Kristin glanced at Lucifer. It was befitting that he represented the sin of pride. It's his reason that made him fall from heaven. Kristin glanced at the next demon beside Asmodeus. "And you are?" She asked nervous. 

The redhead demon introduced himself. "Beelzebub, I'm the sixth brother, the avatar of Gluttony," 

Kristin gulp, the demon who wants to eat her. Once more, the demons reflect their sins. 

"Oi! Human!" Kristin glances at the end of her bed where the white hair demon is. "Don't forget me, the second eldest. I am the Great Mammon, the avatar of Greed!"

The room was quiet. Kristin responds with force. "Um, nice to meet you?"

"Oi! What's with that reaction?! You should be groveling to your knees to meet the Great Mammon!"

Kristin awkwardly smiled. 

"Ahahahaha! Did you see the human reaction! She feels weird!" Asmo exclaimed loudly. Kristin glared at him. "Such an interesting human you are, Kristin," Asmo moved, leaning into Kristin. She froze under his stare. "I'm really intrigued with you,"

There's the little shiver she felt in the hallway. A tingle was sending to, there! 

A gloved hand grabs Asmo's shoulder, Lucifer. "Asmo…! Enough!" Lucifer hiss, Asmo leans back to his chair, pouting at his brothers. 

"Boo…I almost entrance her," 

The eye contact somehow shut down whatever feelings Kristin has. She leans away deeper into her bed.  

"Careful not to see directly into Asmo eyes, he can charm anyone if he wishes," Satan said. 

"Awww, don't spoil Satan!"

"Back to the introduction!" Lucifer growled, rubbing his forehead. "Levi?"

The brothers turned in the far corner of the room where a man with shockingly purple hair. His eyes concentrate on his game console. 

"Oi! Levi! Introduce yourself!" Mammon scolds the demon. 

"Hmph! Fine!" The demon put his consol away. "Leviathan, third eldest, an avatar of envy," he said and returned to his console. 

"Leviathan? As in the creature of the sea?" Kristin asked. 

Levi stops with his console and looks up at Kristin. "Huh, you're familiar with the name?"

"I heard some myth about the demon Leviathan roaming the sea as a serpent," Kristin said, holding her chin in thought. 

"Oh, that's probably Lotan," Satan said. 

"Lotan?"

"Wait a minute!" Asmo gasped. "The humans recognize Leviathan but not me?!" 

Asmodeus seemed upset, and Kristin stuttered. "Uh, well, considering my background, I don't remember other demons but Lucifer."

"Tch! Of course, the human would remember Lucifer!" Levi grunted and glued his eyes back to his console with a scowling look. Somehow it made Kristin feel guilty. 

"Now that everyone's introduced,"

"Wait!" Kristin protest. "There's six of you, where's the seventh brother?" Lucifer and Beel flinch at her question. "If it were the last sin, it would be sloth, right?"

The room stayed silent, unlike when with Mammon, it was heavily silent. Kristin shivered, and her heartbeat fasted in fear.

Thump, thump, thump, thump,

"That is correct," Lucifer's words cut the silents and skipped Kristin's heart. "His name is Belphegor, the seventh brother and the avatar of Sloth. But he was chosen as an exchange student to the human world with the other demons. You may not see each other until the end of the year."

"Oh," Kristin mumbled. It was weird, though. Why the tension? Kristin feels there was something more. 

"Now, that's that," Lucifer got up from his seat. He turned at one of the brothers. "Mammon! I shall assign you to take care of this human!"

"Huhhhhh???"

Alright, the next part, I'm guessing everyone knows where this is going.

Oh! In between this chapter, I have also writes the yokai parade for short. See you in the next fic... 🤗

[bosspigeon]

if you're still bleeding

Pairing: Jax/M!Merc

Words: 2657

Summary: Jax should know better. He should know to mind his own damn business. But, unfortunately, he's well beyond "knowing better" now that he's gone and gotten tangled up with an unhinged mercenary with more knives than sense, and the scars that say the chances of him finding any sense are slim to none.

and if you're still bleeding, you're the lucky ones.

'cause most of our feelings, they are dead and they are gone.

we're setting fire to our insides for fun.

collecting pictures from a flood that wrecked our home,

it was a flood that wrecked this home.

- "Youth" by Daughter

CW for: implied/referenced sex, sexual humor/innuendos, references to blood, violence, and trauma, and implications of kink

Knox is a man with scars.

Jax has plenty of his own, of course, but Knox has a lot of scars. There's a story to most of them, too, and he's never shy about telling them. Hell, half the time he tells those stories completely unprompted, whether you want him to or not.

There's a scar on his chin from where Royal told him he couldn't knee slide the entire bar. There’s the ugly knot of scar tissue where his left arm used to be, where the port to his prosthetic is grafted on. There's the scar in his stomach from the mook Jax had to help him bury. There's a scar on his lip where he bit himself too hard with his freakishly sharp teeth trying to keep quiet while Jax bent him over the hood of his car outside Saints and Sinners in the wee hours of the morning.

He's particularly happy to blab the story about that one to anyone who'll listen.

But he doesn't talk about the scar across his throat.

As little clothing as he tends to wear on the day to day, ("As little as I can get away with," he says with a sleazy wink) his neck is always covered. High-collared shirts, a jauntily knotted scarf, decorative chokers and heavy leather collars always keep it covered. He'll flash his tits before he'll show his throat—but in all fairness, it's not really all that hard to get him to flash his tits.

Jax didn't even see the scar until the fourth or fifth inadvisable hate fuck, at which point he was beginning to think he didn't hate the merc quite as much as he thought, considering he kept letting the little bastard in when he showed up at the door out of nowhere—and didn't shoot him when he decided to forgo the door entirely and come in through the window. (Jax still can’t be sure how he even got to the window, seeing as Jax lives in an apartment well above ground level, but he figures he’s better off not asking.) He didn’t think to ask about it until he’d actually lost count of how many inadvisable hate-fucks there’d been, and when they’d progressed somehow from inadvisable hate-fucks to still pretty inadvisable but otherwise amicable casual fucks.

Knox was loose and relaxed, quiet in a way Jax didn't even think was possible when they first met. And, to think, all it took was shoving him face down into the pillows and thoroughly wearing him out. Usually, he rolled out of bed as soon as his legs could hold him again, commandeered Jax's shower, and used half a bottle of his expensive conditioner before he disappeared without so much as a thank you. This time, he stayed. He sprawled gracelessly across Jax's sweat-stained silk sheets, arms stretched over his head, eyes half-closed and his ever-smirking mouth curled into something softer... almost sweeter.

Jax doesn't know what possessed him to roll over, to reach out and touch, but he did. He started at the inner thigh, the bruises he'd left with teeth and then fingers, a rumbling of possessive pride stoking the banked coals of satisfaction in his belly. His knuckles skimmed the soft curve of the merc's belly, the angry red scar tissue of that knife wound, then higher still. Inked into his sternum is a coyote skull, surrounded by boldly outlined flowers that curve along the underside of his breasts. Jax was almost surprised by the softness of the design, especially in comparison to the rest of the merc's ink, like the crude stick-and-poke perforated line and little pair of scissors right above his prosthetic, or the dirty pinup of some generic muscled pretty boy on his bicep, or the peach on his inner thigh that bears an artful addition of a T-dick very much similar to Knox’s own.

He wondered vaguely if the flowers meant anything to Knox.

Before he could dwell on the uncomfortably tender direction his thoughts had taken, his fingers travelled upwards, flicking absently at one of the heavy, angular piercing through Knox's nipples. Knox huffed a rough laugh, watching the progress of Jax's hand through eyes narrowed to dozy, yellow slits.

He traced Knox's collarbone, and his body was all but melted into Jax's bed, soft and pliant. Like he belonged there.

And then Jax’s curiosity got the better of him. He saw the scar, a thin line, pale with age, but standing in stark relief against Knox's tanned skin. It sits at a bit of an angle, slicing across the middle of the merc's throat.

The second his fingers made contact, skimming that raised line of flesh, he knew he'd fucked up.

Knox's body went taut for a split second, and that was all the warning Jax got before Knox was twisting his wrist hard enough for the bones to grind together and snarling in his face like a wild animal. If his knives weren't two rooms away in his discarded pile of clothes, Jax knows he would have lost fingers.

For once, Knox didn't say anything. For once, he was dead silent, mouth a grim sneer, eyes flat and hard. He shoved Jax roughly off him and rolled out of bed. He didn't look back once, stalking out of Jax's bedroom naked, every inch of his compactly muscled body vibrating with tension. Jax heard the rustle of clothes, the jingle of buckles and zippers and a half dozen knives, and then the front door slamming shut.

He didn't see Knox again until Orla called them in for another job, and it was as if nothing had happened. He was his usual smug, annoying self, not a single break in his usual facade of irreverent humor and Napoleonic bravado.

And maybe some of Knox's reckless stupidity is rubbing off on him, because Jax can't shake the curiosity that grips him, even now. He shoves it down, naturally, because he doesn't want the batshit merc to get twitchy on him again when he's got enough knives on him at any given time to outfit a military squadron. Hell, for all Jax knows, that's the end of it. He's not going to go crawling back to Knox (even if the sex is really fucking good—it's always the crazy ones, isn’t it?) and he knows Knox won't come to him first.

Except he does, dragging Jax into one of the back rooms after a meeting with Orla, shoving him against the wall, and dropping to his knees. Things go right back to normal after that, or as normal as they ever are with Coyote Fucking Knox. And as normal as they can be once Orla oh-so-sweetly reminds him there are cameras in the back rooms, and if he doesn't want stills of his dick forwarded to the entire Mirage gang, he'll keep his and Knox's exhibitionism where she doesn't have to see it.

So Knox continues to invade Jax's privacy, steal petty shit from his apartment and/or pockets, and loudly demand that Jax fuck him hoarse (-er) if he wants him to shut up.

And he winds up tangled in Jax's sheets again, sprawled out on his belly with one leg tossed over Jax's thigh, his face smashed into a pillow, one smug yellow eye watching Jax try to catch his breath beside him.

He could let it be. It's not like this is anything but a convenience. Some fun between… well, they're definitely not friends. Coworkers, if anything, and even that's pushing it. For a while, Jax considered it a fair trade for dealing with Knox's bullshit constantly. Now, it's becoming a pattern, and when it comes to semi-regular sex with a stab-happy mercenary, patterns can be dangerous.

But he can't kill the curiosity.

He figures his best bet is being blunt. And maybe getting ready to dodge in the very likely event things go south. He doesn't touch this time, at least not where they aren't already, Knox’s knee between his legs, the skin feeling a bit feverish and clammy as the sweat cools. The urge to touch is still there—he left some nice bite marks on Knox's shoulders he'd like to reacquaint himself with—but he ignores it for now. He rolls onto his side, meets that one yellow eye with quiet consideration, and props his head up on his hand.

Knox must read the change in his face, because he goes from cat-got-the-cream contentment to a warily curious tension. Jax just goes right for the throat, so to speak. “Any chance of hearing the story behind that one?” he says, casual as anything, and nods in the vague direction of Knox’s neck.

There’s a growling noise building up behind Knox’s teeth, but he bites it back. He smiles, but it feels feral, like an animal baring its teeth looks like a smile, but it's really a threat. It looks brittle, like it'll shatter if he tightens his jaw any further.

Jax gives in to the urge, reaching out to touch, fingertips skimming down the mercenary's spine. A shiver ripples across the skin. He’s not sure if it’s the right move, but at this point, if you’re going to Hell...

“I don’t know,” Knox says flatly, and Jax is almost shocked he answered at all. There’s no inflection, no mirth. Just that broken-glass smile.

Jax snorts. Knox never fucking shuts up, that much is true, but Jax isn’t stupid. He knows when someone’s talking a lot and saying nothing of importance on purpose, and he also knows when Knox can’t deflect, he lies his ass off like he was born to do it. Even Orla barely knows anything about her least favorite favorite merc or where he came from, though the chances of her caring enough to even try to find out are slim to none. Still, he has no idea what the mercenary even has to gain from lying, especially here. "If you don't want to say anything, just tell me to fuck off."

The knife edge smile stretches wider. Tips closer to the breaking point. "Fuck off," he echoes like a parrot.

Something starts to uncurl in Jax's gut, something burbling and acidic, a nasty niggling feeling he can't quite name. "You're serious," he says, and he doesn't want to believe it, mostly because he can't imagine someone like Knox taking that sort of… personal unknown well. “Nothing?”

The smile cracks, and Knox lifts his head so Jax gets the full effect of it. His eyes are wide, wild, and suddenly that smile is too big for his face. Slowly, he sits up, and there's the scar. Old and faded, but splitting his throat neatly and boldly from east to west. He drags his thumb across it, digs it in hard enough the white scar tissue goes a bit pink. He laughs. He's never had a pleasant laugh, rough and raspy and mean. Somehow, this one is worse. “Not a lick,” he drawls, and the effort it takes him to sound so casual almost makes Jax cringe. “There’s a reason Orla found me in the fuckin’ bargain bin.” He taps his temple, his messily painted nail clicking against the chip in his head.

Jax’s eyes flick down to the scar, frowning deeply. It doesn’t make sense. Knox is deflecting again, he has to be, but there’s something in the way he’s holding himself, the tension radiating from him, the way he slumps against the headboard of Jax’s bed with his knees pulled up, not quite close enough to hug to his chest, but more like he’s thinking about it, resisting the urge to physically hold himself together and risk looking weak.

"I have nightmares, sometimes," he admits, so soft the syllables catch on the rough edges of his ragged voice. "They never make any fucking sense. I'm just… I'm choking. Something’s cutting into my neck, and there’s someone behind me, and I know them, but— But I'm guilty? I don't know for what." He laughs, bitterly brittle. "Could be fucking anything. Got a lot to be guilty for that I can remember, never mind what I can't."

He inhales, and it sounds like it hurts him, like his breath is made of shards of glass. He drags his hand down his face until he can curl his fingers around his throat so the scar doesn't show. "I just know there's this perfume Orla wears that makes me want to climb the fucking walls and I don't know why. I think I know how to play the piano, but I can’t even look at one without wanting to smash it to pieces. Sometimes I hear some… some fucking opera song, or some shit? And I know the words, and I want to sing along, but then my voice just—just cracks, and I feel like… like a broken fucking wind-up toy? It's like my head doesn't remember anything, but the rest of me does and it makes me so fucking angry. What am I missing? Why does it matter?” His voice hitches dangerously, and there’s a stab of panic in Jax’s belly, his hands twitching like they want to—to reach out? “Why can’t it just leave me the fuck alone?"

Knox squeezes his own throat so hard the skin dimples around his fingers and bleeds white where he’s cutting off bloodflow. His shoulders tremble. There's something in the furrow of his brow, the twist of his mouth, that says angry isn't the only thing it makes him, but he either doesn't have the words to say it, or he just won't, not even to himself.

The silence falls again. Jax always thought he preferred silence where Knox was concerned. Turns out he was wrong. This silence is brutal, heavy and choking and just… wrong. When Knox does see fit to break it, it's with a loud exhale that almost makes Jax start.

"Would you look at the time," the merc says loudly, shaking out his bare wrist and looking at it critically. Jax could almost laugh. Knox tosses his legs over the edge of the bed smiling crookedly over his shoulder. "I should really head out, huh? Don't wanna overstay my welcome."

Before he can think, Jax snaps a hand out and catches Knox’s hip, squeezing. Not enough to stop him if he really wants to go, but enough to give him pause. Once again, Jax counts himself lucky they rarely make it to the bedroom before one or both of them are naked, which means all those knives are somewhere by the door, or scattered across his coffee table, or in the leather jacket tossed over the back of his couch. Coyote turns slightly, just enough to eyeball him. Just one yellow eye.

There's a lot Jax could say, a lot he even wants to, but there's something raw in that one yellow eye, something wary and broken that just wants to hide somewhere quiet and lick its wounds. They've been at this for way too fucking long at this point, Jax should know what to do with that, shouldn't he?

Maybe he does.

He snorts. "When the fuck have you ever cared about overstaying your welcome?" He smacks Knox's hip just on the wrong side of gentle, and rolls over. "You're not leaving until you help me change these sheets. Hell, maybe if I'm feeling generous, I'll let you back in bed after we shower."

He pushes up to his feet and stretches out the kinks in his muscles, allowing himself to luxuriate in the pleasant soreness leftover from their romp. Knox is quiet behind him, and he can't really think of when he actually started to trust the crazy bastard enough to turn his back to him.

Knox makes a rough little sound, something not quite a laugh. "Is that an order, Sir?" he asks, low and raspy-sweet.

Jax glances back with a raised eyebrow. "Do I need to make it one?"

[winterscaptain]

intellectual guesswork.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: another ajf update that requires absolutely no context to enjoy! i love you all so much. send some extra love to your favorite writers this week :)

one quick thing - if you’re on my taglist, please consider dropping a reply or a reblog! i love to see what you all think, and it encourages me to keep going :) it’s also getting a bit long, and i want to make sure my mutuals and people who engage are seeing everything - tumblr sometimes has a hard time with a lot of mentions. 

words: 1.6k warnings: none!

summary: “ignorance of the law excuses no man - from practicing it.” - addison mizner. au!may 2008

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | taglist | what do you want to see next? edited: january 12th, 2021

You all settle into one row. Aaron’s on the end beside you, looking very sharp in a crisp black suit, his favorite Rolex, and a settled kind of confidence you’ve only seen in him a few times. It’s like he’s in his natural habitat. 

Aaron’s record as a federal prosecutor speaks for itself, of course, but you’ve never seen him in action. As often as they can, the bureau’s leadership sends him in as an expert witness. This time, the case happens to be one of yours. The judge hasn’t required a sequestration for Aaron, so you get the treat of sitting together in the courtroom. 

He’s scoffed and mumbled snide remarks under his breath all morning. You’re just itching to see him get up on the stand and give this joker an education. 

Emily leans over, whispering in your ear. “I promise you’ve never seen anything like this before. Hotch is going to rip this clown to shreds.” 

You stifle a laugh and look over at Aaron. He heard her. Leaning toward you, he murmurs, “All my JD does is collect dust. When I use it, I’d like to enjoy it.” 

“Your Honor, the prosecution would like to call our expert witness, Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, to the stand.” 

He takes a breath and rises, buttoning his suit jacket and crossing the courtroom. His presence commands respect and everyone in the courtroom seems to shrink before him. 

The prosecution’s questions go over smoothly, and the defense attorney stands with an unreasonable amount of confidence. 

Emily leans over. “He thinks he can get Hotch with at least one of these questions, and he might. But just watch.” 

You nod, taking everything in. 

“So you’ve stated that it was your profile of the killer that led you and the police to my clients door that night.” 

“Behavioral analysis was a factor in our investigation, yes.” 

Without hesitation, the attorney follows up. “And was behavioral analysis also a factor in the Olympic Park bombings case in Atlanta?” 

“Yes, it was.” Aaron’s eyes and tone never waver, no hint of arrogance or cheek. 

“And was that suspect you identified,” the attorney asks, far too aggressively, “Richard Jewell, ever convicted of the bombings?”

The prosecution objects, and you watch Aaron. Every part of him observes the proceedings with an outwardly detached interest, but his eyes are alive - strategizing and anticipating. It’s like you can see the wheels turning as the lawyers bicker. 

 The judge ends the squabble. “I’ll allow it.”

Aaron, now with permission, answers simply, “No, he was not convicted.”

“Because he was innocent. Your profile led you to the wrong man.” 

Oh, give me a break. It takes everything in you not to scoff and you can feel Emily’s eye roll.

“Jewell was not the perpetrator, but if you look at the real Olympic Park Bomber, Eric Rudolph, you’ll see that our profile was dead-on.” 

Dead-on indeed, Aaron. 

“Well, how about we look at the Baton Rouge Killer? Your unit said that he was white and living in the city. He was Black and from the suburbs.”

Aaron’s eyes narrow and you feel Spencer shift beside you. Emily shakes her head. “Don’t worry,” she whispers. “He always recovers, never in the way you’d expect.” 

“How do you know?”

Emily’s face pulls into a little smile. “I’ve read the transcripts. Hotch is terribly clever.” 

“You said that Dennis Rader, the B.T.K. Killer,” the attorney continues, “was divorced and impotent. He turned out to be married with two kids.” 

JJ huffs, and you hear her whisper to Spencer, “Can we quit with the sermon?” 

His lips turn up. “Just wait.”

Dave leans over and stares them down over Derek. Stop talking. 

All of you look down at your hands like chastised children, but your gaze floats back to Aaron right away. 

The prosecution objects again, this time on the grounds of preaching. The judge forces a question, and the attorney turns back on Aaron.

“Having been wrong on those cases, isn’t it possible that you were wrong about Brian Matloff?” 

“No.” Your chest squeezes. He’s completely firm in his denial. 

How does he do that?

“Fact is,” the attorney continues like Aaron didn’t speak at all, “behavioral analysis is really just intellectual guesswork. You probably couldn’t tell me the color of my socks with any greater accuracy than a carnival psychic.” 

“Objection!” 

Her outburst is unnecessary. Aaron has a plan. His eyes track to you as if to check in. Are you paying attention? 

If you weren’t watching before, you’re certainly watching now. Always. 

“Withdrawn.” 

“Charcoal grey.” His flat assertion makes you gasp and you immediately cover your mouth with your hand to stifle the sound. 

The attorney turns around. “Well, look at that,” he exposes his socks to the court, and they are, in fact, charcoal grey. “He got one right.”

Aaron’s not finished. “You match them to the color of your suit to appear taller. You also wear lifts and you’ve had the soles of your shoes replaced. One might think you’re frugal, but in fact, you’re having financial difficulties.” 

You do your best to school your expression and remove your hand from your mouth. Checking down the row, you see six smirks watching the witness box. 

“You wear a fake Rolex…”

And you’d know. 

“...because you pawned the real one to pay your debts. My guess would be to a bookie.” 

Is he smiling?

“I took this case pro bono.” There’s tension in Mr. Charcoal Grey’s voice. You can hear it behind the false confidence and it pulls a smile from you. “I am one of the most successful criminal attorneys in the state.”

Hotch continues, completely bypassing him. “Your vice is horses.” There’s definitely a little smile on his face now. “Your Blackberry’s been buzzing on the table every twenty minutes, which happens to be the average time between posts from Colonial Downs. You’re getting race results.” Your smile gets wider, and Emily grabs your hand. 

“Just watch.”

“And every time you do, it affects your mood in court, and you’re not having a very good day.” There’s something that looks almost like concern on Aaron’s face, but you know it’s nothing if not facetious. He’s ripping this poor man to shreds without changing a single thing about his presentation.

I love - 

Don’t finish that thought. 

Why not?

Remember how he’s freshly divorced?

I know, but have you seen him?

“That’s because you pick horses the same way you practice law -” 

You lean forward and Emily follows, her thumbnail between her teeth. 

The final blow. 

“- by always taking the long shot.” 

If this was any other setting, you’re sure the entire team would be on their feet, shouting and jeering. But alas, you’re in court, so you settle for a wide smile and a suppressed laugh. Amused brown eyes meet yours from across the room and you shake your head just the tiniest bit. I can’t believe you.

His lips twitch. 

“Well, you spin a very good yarn, Agent, but as usual, you’ve proven nothing.” He’s just trying to recover something, anything left of his dignity. He fails, miserably. 

“If I’m not mistaken,” Aaron says, his eyebrows raised just a little, “the results from the fifth race should be coming through any minute.”

Just then, his Blackberry buzzes on the defense table. “Why don’t you tell us if your luck has changed?”

You raise your hands to your face to cool the rising heat in your cheeks. 

“Your honor, this is - “

The judge takes matters into his own hands. “What do you want me to do? Either show us your Blackberry or cut him loose, counselor.”

Hotch and the defense attorney share a loaded look. It’s a battle of wills. 

Aaron wins. 

“Nothing further.”

+++

When you all leave the courthouse, you practically latch onto Aaron’s arm, completely floored. 

“How did you do that?”

He laughs and Derek jumps up beside him, shaking his shoulders. “Come on, Hotch. That was incredible.” 

“Why have a law degree if you aren’t going to use it?”

+++

He offers you a ride home later that evening and you take him up on it. You’re both still in the car, idling in front of your house. 

“That really was impressive today,” you admit, your eyes on your hands.

You can feel his soft smile rather than see it. “Thanks. I know it didn’t quite go the way we wanted as far as the case itself, but there’s more to come.” 

“It’s never as bad as it looks in the first couple of days.” 

“Exactly.” He sighs. “Thanks again for being there today. It’s…” his lips twist as he thinks, “nice to have the team around.” 

You reach out, squeezing his forearm before immediately letting him go. “Of course. We’ll always be there for you. Plus, there’s nothing better than watching you tear blowhard lawyers to shreds in a court of law.” 

“I’m not sure that’s exactly how it went.” 

“You’re kidding!” You laugh. “That’s just what happened. The man left without half his soul! You absolutely tore it from his body.”

The pair of you quiet, and you move to get out of the car. He stops you with a hand over yours as you unclip your seatbelt. “Really. Thanks for being there today.” 

“I can’t emphasize this enough - it was my pleasure.” 

Enough of a pleasure as it was, his smile in the dark of the car is the best part of your day.  

+++

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @wandaswitxh @hurricanejjareau @fics-ilike @ange-must-die @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @good-heavens-chris-evans @davidrossi-ismydad @angelsbabey @gublergirls @writefasttalkevenfaster @venusbarnes @hotchsflower @micaiahmoonheart @ogmilkis @thatreallyis-americas-ass @marvels-agents100 @hotchslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @joemazzello-imagines @pinkdiamond1016 @sebbybaby0 @pan-pride-12 @hotchlinebling @lee-rin-ah @sunshine-em @word-scribbless @jdougl-love @sageellsworth05 @nohalohoseok @giveusbackourbucky @writerxinthedark @bauslut @yourlovelynewsbian @sparklingkeylimepie @aili28 @kingandrear @reader4027 @spnobsessedmemes @rogers-mouth @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @hotchnersgoddess @buckybau @phoenixfyre374 @sana-li @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandi-ass-prentiss  @dontkissthewriter @ellyhotchner @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @laneygthememequeen @ahopelessromantic @violentvulgarvolatile @andreasworlsboring101 @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @violet-amxthyst @bwbatta @roses-and-grasses @lcvischmitt @capricorngf @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @mandylove1000 @garcia-reid-lovechild  @cevanswhre @colbyskoalas @qvid-pro-qvo @jeor @spencers-hoodrat @infinity1321

[shorkbrian]

Give in to Love

so I have several thots about this. Like with Kiri, he would be like, relieved you’re being submissive but then he’d become like super depressed that you aren’t like idk seeming to live in your body, like you’re just a husk and he’d get so worried and sad and pamper you with so much love.

Yeah so aside from Kiri, a yan that I imagine this type of scenario is with someone like Victor Nikiforov from YOI 

yes. This Bitch right here.

So first fucking off, he’s rich. Money is no problem for him.

Second off, he’s so confident that he would not hesitate to do whatever he wanted.

Third, he’s actually pretty kind (especially to pretty, vulnerable little things like you)

It’d probably start out with the man spilling coffee all over you or something SUPER cliche like that. 

(Warnings - not much. NSFW but only the teeniest tiniest bit. barely even a mention. but obvs Yandere, dub con, dark content.)

He’s in a rush, he was bursting out of the coffee-shop, you just so happened to be walking by and in the direct path of the door and so smacks into you, knocking you onto your butt.

Immediately, you’re being helped up by a silver haired man, he’s apologizing heavily, patting your clothes into place, smoothing your hair, steadying you onto your feet. He’s so sorry, he didn’t even see you! And then the man stops, looks at you, smiles blindingly and blurts out that you’re pretty.

You’re understandably stunned. but you quickly just brush it off, his accent is foreign, it’s probably just a cultural thing. 

Then he’s offering to buy you something to make up for him trying to give you a concussion, asking if you like coffee, sweets, maybe a sweater? You look cold.

And you’re just so tired, life is exhausting, you don’t really even care anymore what happens to you. You don’t protest as the man doesn’t wait for an answer, immediately grabbing your hand and marching you into the coffee shop he had just burst out of.

“Pick anything you’d like, my treat! An apology for not paying attention to such a beautiful thing.” He smiles, gesturing at the menu.

You study it for a second, but there’s too many choices, and it’d just be easier if you didn’t have to, and you’re so used to people telling you what to do and making decisions for you and you’re lost. Where do you even start?

After a few moments of silence, the man (who's been not-so-subtly watching you as you deliberate) speaks up. “Can I pick? I LOVE their raspberry cheesecake! So good!”

It sounds fine, and you’re somewhat relieved that he was going to choose, take the burden of responsibility off of your shoulders.

He buys one of the giant slices, ushers you to table, sits you down. The man watches you take a bite, his face lighting up and giving a little clap when you give a thumbs up. He has his own fork, and he takes bits and pieces here and there from the slice. While you eat, he talks.

His name is Victor, he’s from Russia, are you from around here? What’s your name? 

“That’s such a pretty name!” He says your name once, twice, rolling it around in his mouth like it’s something to savor. 

Victor is a ball of energy, confident, full of life. He’s frankly an intimidating man, with how attractive he is, the obviously expensive suit he wears, the way he dominates the conversation and expertly handles your awkward silences and uncomfortable pauses.

By the time you leave, he’s entered his number into your phone, quickly scrolling to find your own number (even though he was only supposed to put in his own - but you really didn’t care) and note it down.

You’re pretty sure he won’t actually be texting or calling you - he was just being polite, feigning interest in someone as boring and pathetic as yourself.

Lo-and-behold, that evening you get a notification that “Vitya! (:” has texted you.

Hello! Is your body feeling alright?

Immediately confused, you send out a reply

Who is this?

It’s Victor!!! From the coffeeshop, haha. 

Oh, hi (: your contact name says “Vitya” lol what a typo

Not a typo, I like it when pretty girls call me Vitya (;

Baffled, you don’t reply, and no further messages are exchanged.

A few days go by, Victor texts you on the fifth day, asking if you wouldn’t mind recommending some fun local activities. You have to apologize - you don’t get out much, you’re sure there’s info online though.

Victor asks why you don’t go out, you decide to be blunt and succinctly explain the fatigue, you’re anxious, this is your first time being out on your own and you’re so used to other people dictating your life that it feels uncomfortable and wrong to be able to make decisions. 

The man asks if you would go to that coffeeshop again with him. The switch of topic relieves you, but at the same time you’re frowning. You probably word-vomited all over him, complaining about your problems. 

For some reason, you agree.

He meets you at the coffeeshop again, this time not even bothering to ask what you’d like to order. Victor just gets a few cookies, leads you to a table and plops down, spreading them in front of the two of you 

“In case you don’t like one of them. And if you have allergies!”

You smile at his explanation.

Victor slowly becomes a constant in your life.

The texts turn into quick calls, inviting you places, begging you to come sit with him in the park, feed some pigeons. Go to the grocery store with him? He’s lonely, don’t make him go by himself!

Even if you refuse, you’re gently bullied into doing virtually everything he says. It’s not like you mind though, you’re used to it.

He starts showing up at your apartment, you aren’t even sure when you gave him your address, but now he invites himself inside.

The first time he had shown up, completely unannounced, you had protested only once before letting him in. You could tell he was scrutinizing your home, but what did it matter? Victor was wealthy, everything you owned seemed shabby and poor.

He came over most nights, sometimes bringing food, making you sit with him at your table and eat. Sometimes he brought a book, or his laptop, and quietly sat on your couch while you puttered around. He’d always get distracted from what he was reading though, chattering towards you about this or that or the other.

Victor was nice.

He made decisions for you, he made you eat, he quickly picked up on when you were too tired to function, when all you could do was collapse somewhere and fall asleep.

But Victor was also threatening.

If you tried refusing him too many times, or if you mentioned your coworker telling a funny joke (It’s not like he wasn’t funny, the joke was hilarious - Victor just didn’t seem to like it) Victor’s face would sour, eyebrows drawing low, a deep frown etched onto his face. HIs voice would take on a commanding tone, low, as if he was going to do something that neither of you would enjoy if he had to ask again. 

It was scary sometimes.

But he had invaded your life, and you had stood by and idly watched. It’s not like you had put up a fight. You didn’t even know why he hung around you so, with the way you were constantly tired, moving through life like a zombie, sad and sleepy all the time.

Months passed and like every other year of your life, you could barely remember them slipping by. When had Victor become so comfortable in your apartment? It made you uncomfortable, but you were used to discomfort.

It came to a head when you retreated to your room for a nap, body sore and fatigued from merely existing. Victor followed you, nagging about wearing something cooler, to drink some water, how he heard about this new thing recently-

He followed you into your bed.

Like it was normal. Crawling under the covers with you, still maintaining a respectful distance, still talking. You were so tired, you didn’t care about how it made you uncomfortable.

When you woke up, he was curled around you, holding you tight. When you shifted, he had perked up, peeking around your shoulder to see your face. He had been awake the whole time, just chilling.

It was weird.

You were too tired to fight it.

Victor started paying for too much.

Of course it started small, as everything concerning Victor did. Sweets, small little gifts, occasionally a week’s worth of groceries. 

Then it escalated. He was paying for your medications, for your therapies, for your health aids. He started trailing after you to doctor’s appointments, introducing himself as a concerned friend.

You knew this wasn’t good, wasn’t healthy. Something was wrong about this, but you just didn’t care. Something was always wrong, you were always being directed and pushed towards this or that. You just had to accept it.

Then Victor was paying your rent, buying you clothes (since when did friends buy each other underwear?) surprising you with bigger and more expensive gifts until you tried to put your foot down.

You had gotten a stern talking-to, treated like an ungrateful child. And maybe you were? Victor was doing so much for you, shouldn’t you just accept his care?

Victor suggested that you move into his house, since he practically lives at your little apartment anyways. 

“My place is so much cozier! I have a fireplace, I miss it! I want to spend time with you but we could hang out in a more-” He looked around at your apartment “-comfortable place?”

You tried to argue, you did. But it took one disapproving glance from Victor and you were subdued, meekly agreeing to do whatever he wanted.

He called your landlord to terminate your lease. He helped you pack your clothes (that he had bought) into boxes (that he had bought) and arranged for your furniture (that he had bought, always complaining that your couch was bad for his back) to be sold.

Once moving in with him, he got more and more affectionate.

Right from the start, you quickly realized that Victor was very tactile-oriented. He wasn’t shy about physical touch, always wanting to hold hands or giving super long hugs, or begging to cuddle. He didn’t think it was weird, so you tried not to think so either.

Now that you were in his house, his gigantic, expensive house, Victor became even more physical. He showered you with kisses on the cheek, pressed to your forehead, on your shoulder, your neck when he curled around you at night (because of course you slept in the same bed. Victor had just laughed when you asked where your bedroom was)

Eventually, he kissed you on the mouth.

You were surprised, but you didn’t fight it. Why would you?

A heartfelt confession followed - how he had fallen in love with you at first sight, and how every day he fell more and more in love with you. You were his everything, the light of his life, he would die for you.

Don’t you feel the same?

You did, because that’s what Victor wanted to hear.

So now the two of you were dating, sharing kisses and intimate touches and eventually sharing bodies, letting him touch you even though it made your flesh crawl, touching him because he asked you to.

He provided everything, it was simpler just to do what he asked, what he desired. You didn’t even really mind being told what to do, what to wear, what and when to eat - it gave you a sense of comfort, knowing that you didn’t have to make decisions for yourself like that.

Victor would take care of you.

Even when you didn’t want him to

After all, it was simply easier to give in to love